Neostoicism and the Early Modern State (Cambridge Studies in Early Modern History)

CAMBRIDGE STUDIES IN EARLY MODERN HISTORY Editors J. H. ELLIOTT

H. G. KOENIGSBERGER

Neostoicism and the early modern state

CAMBRIDGE STUDIES IN EARLY MODERN HISTORY Edited by Professor J. H. Elliott, The Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton, and Professor H. G. Koenigsberger, King's College, University of London The idea of an 'early modern' period of European history from the fifteenth to the late eighteenth century is now widely accepted among historians. The purpose of the Cambridge Studies in Early Modern History is to publish monographs and studies which will illuminate the character of the period as a whole, and in particular focus attention on a dominant theme within it, the interplay of continuity and change as they are represented by the continuity of medieval ideas, political and social organization, and by the impact of new ideas, new methods and new demands on the traditional structures. The Old World and the New, 1492-1650 J. H. ELLIOTT

French Finances, 1770-1795: From Business to Bureaucracy J. F. BOSHER

The Army of Flanders and the Spanish Road, 1567-1659: The Logistics of Spanish Victory and Defeat in the Low Countries Wars GEOFFREY PARKER

Chronicle into History: An Essay on the Interpretation of History in Florentine Fourteenth-Century Chronicles LOUIS GREEN

France and the Estates General of 1614 J. MICHAEL HAYDEN

Gunpowder and Galleys: Changing Technology and Mediterranean Warfare at Sea in the Sixteenth Century JOHN FRANCIS GUILMARTIN JR

Reform and Revolution in Mainz 1743-1803 T. C. W. BLANNING

The State, War and Peace: Spanish Political Thought in the Renaissance 1515-1559 J. A. FERNANDEZ-SANTAMARIA

Altopascio: A Study in Tuscan Rural Society 1587-1784 FRANK MCARDLE

Calvinist Preaching and Iconoclasm in the Netherlands 1544-1569 PHYLLIS MACK CREW

The Kingdom of Valencia in the Seventeenth Century JAMES CASEY

Rouen during the Wars of Religion PHILIP BENEDICT Filippo Strozzi and the Medici: Favour and Finance in Sixteenth-century Florence and Rome MELISSA MERIAM BULLARD

Neostoicism and the early modern state Gerhard Oestreich

Edited by BRIGITTA OESTREICH and H. G. KOENIGSBERGER Translated by DAVID McLINTOCK

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS London

Cambridge New York New Rochelle Melbourne Sydney

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo, Delhi Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 8RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www. c ambridge. org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521242028 Copyright in the original German is held as follows: Chapters 1-7 © Mrs B. Oestreich 1981 Chapters 8-15 © Duncker & Humblot, Berlin 1969, 1980 English translation of the whole work © Cambridge University Press 1982 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of the copyright holder. First published 1982 This digitally printed version 2008 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 81—12285 ISBN 978-0-521-24202-8 hardback ISBN 978-0-521-08811-4 paperback

Contents page

Foreword: by H. G. Koenigsberger and Brigitta Oestreich Introduction

vii i

PART I JUSTUS LIPSIUS AND THE NETHERLANDS MOVEMENT

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Constantia in publicis malis The political intent in Neostoic philosophy The main political work of Lipsius Political Neostoicism The military renascence The European echo The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia

PART II THE CONSTITUTIONAL EARLY MODERN STATE

8 9 10 11 12

DEVELOPMENT

13 28 39 57 76 90 118

OF THE

The religious covenant and the social contract 'Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism The estates of Germany and the formation of the state The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century 13 Army organization in the German territories from 1500 to 1800 14 The constitution of the Holy Roman Empire and the European state system 1648-1789 15 The structure of the absolute state

135 155 166 187 199

258

Index

274

221 241

Foreword In 1976, the editors of the series Cambridge Studies in Early Modern History suggested to Gerhard Oestreich the publication of an English version of his collection of essays, Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates.l At first it was thought that only relatively minor changes would be needed, notably the substitution of some more recent essays of wider interest for two of the highly specialized and technical articles. These substitutions have become chapters g2 and io 3 in this book. Oestreich, however, decided on a complete recasting of the first four chapters, those concerned most directly with Lipsius, Neostoicism and the Netherlands movement. At the time of his premature death, in 1978, he had not fully completed this task and would undoubtedly have wished to make some emendations, especially to the second half of the rewritten text. Nevertheless, we thought that the last draft was sufficiently close to Oestreich's intention to represent fairly his last rethinking and reformulation of his subject. The final German text of these chapters (1-7) which was then used for the present translation was prepared by Brigitta Oestreich. The remaining chapters are essays translated substantially from the form in which they appeared originally, from 1953 onwards, and in which they were then republished in Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates. Neostoicism was a movement which has been known to historians in this country mainly in its French literary and philosophical form. Its political and social influence, radiating largely from the Netherlands, has hardly been appreciated at all and on the Continent it came to be forgotten during the eighteenth century. Yet in the seventeenth century this influence was enormously powerful. At a time of the most bitter religious, political and social conflicts, it provided a practical philosophy, based on reason, Christian morality and classical learning, for virtually every sphere of life. 1 2

3

Berlin, Duncker & Humblot 1969. * Policey und Prudentia civilis in der barocken Gesellschaft von Stadt und Staat', in A. Schone (ed): Stadt-Schule-Universitdt-Buchwesen und die deutsche Literatur im IJ. Jahrhundert. Munich, C. H. Beck 1976, pp. 10-21. 'Vom Herrschaftsvertrag zur Verfassungsurkunde. Die " Regierungsformen " des 17. Jahrhunderts als konstitutionelle Instrumente', in R. Vierhaus (ed): Herrschaftsvertriige, Wahlkapitulationen, Fundamentalgesetze. Gottingen, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1977, pp. 45-67. Vll

Foreword It by-passed the deadly disputes of the theologians and the disruptive struggles over the form of governments and the distribution of power within states. In their place it put the increase of the power and efficiency of the state itself and the political and social discipline of its citizens through the effects of education. This eminently useful and respectable philosophy found favour with the ' establishments' in both monarchies and republics. It found favour, above all, in France and Germany, where the principalities and cities composing the Holy Roman Empire were at this time still in the process of transforming themselves into fully fledged states. Unfortunately, Oestreich was never able to write the grand, overall history of early modern Europe which he had in mind. He visualized it as an histoire totale, wider perhaps even than that of the modern French school. The outlines, at least, of such a history, are clearly discernible in this book.4 The most immediate effect of the Netherlands movement was on the organization and morale of armies; but in the long run it affected all classes. Max Weber had stressed the spread of rationalization and of the Protestant ethic in the development of modern society. Oestreich adds to this the social discipline and self-discipline, and the consequent self-confidence, inculcated by Neostoicism. These were crucial in the later development of modern industrialism and political democracy. Yet Oestreich does not regard Neostoicism as the only important formative influence, even in the seventeenth century. Science and literature had other, equally important, sources as well. In political thought he stressed the tradition of natural law and of the religious covenants which developed into social contracts and modern constitutions. Constitutions and institutions themselves form a substantial part of his enquiries. In a clear break with traditional German historiography, Oestreich insisted on the importance of the estates and their representative institutions during the very period of the formation of absolutist rule in the German principalities and suggested reasons for this continued importance. The counterpoint of all these developments with the influence of Neostoicism forms the second part of this book, especially in chapters 8-10. These are followed by three chapters on the development of the German territorial states, with particular emphasis on their military organizations and on the survival of local autonomy and of representative institutions (chapters 11-13). Chapters 14 and 15 finally place these German developments within a European context. H. G. KOENIGSBERGER BRIGITTA OESTREICH 4

See also the most recently published collection of Oestreich's articles: G. Oestreich, Strukturprobleme derfruhen Neuzeit, ed. Brigitta Oestreich, Berlin, Duncker & Humblot 1980.

viii

Introduction Humanism, as a scholarly movement, emanated from Italy in the fourteenth century; it soon spread throughout Europe, from Paris and Oxford in the west to Cracow in the east, and reached the height of its influence in the sixteenth century. Though at first it had been a literary movement, centred upon poetics and rhetoric, the increasing exploration of the whole of ancient learning led to the promotion of knowledge and understanding in practical fields too. This applies not just to the arts, but in particular to the technical and practical sciences, which have received far too little attention as parts of this process. The body of knowledge in the fields of jurisprudence, medicine, astronomy, cosmography, geography, mining, mechanics, architecture and agriculture was built up systematically from the standard works of Greek, Byzantine and Latin scholarship; finally men drew upon the experience of antiquity in the fields of warfare and the structure of the state. The relevant texts were repeatedly published in new and improved editions, furnished with commentaries, and translated into modern languages. This was due not to literary and aesthetic interest, but to practical considerations which had to do with contemporary needs and the wish to apply immediately the knowledge supplied by the texts.I With regard to medicine we may cite a single set of figures for the sixteenth century: between 1490 and 1597/8 six hundred and sixty editions of Galen were published (eighteen of them complete), chiefly in Paris, Lyons, Venice and Basle. The peak of this publishing activity came between 1525 and 1560.2 The scientific encyclopedia of Pliny the Younger, Historiae naturalis libri 1

2

The major histories of science often pay scant attention to the connections between classical and modern science. For the view of a historian of ideas cf. E. Cassirer, 'Die Antike und die Entstehung der exakten Wissenschaft', Die Antike 8 (1932) 276-300. See also G. Harig, 'Die Aneignung des antiken Wissens auf dem Gebiet der Naturwissenschaft in der Renaissance', J. Irmscher (ed), Renaissance und Humanismus in Mittel- und Osteuropa, Berlin 1962, vol. 1, pp. 3-15; L. Olschki, Geschichte der neusprachlichen wissenschaftlichen Literatur (3 vols), Heidelberg 1919-27; M. Boas, The Scientific Renaissance 1450-1640, London 1962; A. C. Crombie, Augustine to Galileo, 2 vols, London, 2 i 9 6 i . A. Buck, 'Der humanistische Beitrag zur Ausbildung des naturwissenschaftlichen Denkens', Die humanistische Tradition in der Romania, Berlin 1968, pp. 165-81. For a summary see G. Sarton, The Appreciation of Ancient and Medieval Science during the Renaissance (1450-1600), Philadelphia 1955. R. J. A. Durling, 'A chronological recensus of Renaissance editions and translations of Galen', Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 24 (1961) 230-305.

Introduction XXXVII went into at least forty-six editions by 1550. Euclid's Elementa geometrica were printed forty times in full or in part by the same date, and during the same period there were thirty-two editions of Discorides' De materia me die a *

The links between classical literature and the practical science of early modern times must be viewed within the framework of a broad general development. Intensive study of the ancients and immersion in their works initiated an important process whose effects persist into our own age - the scientific study of many practical activities which had been carried on for a long time and handed down in a practical manner. By being treated systematically, certain areas of work became branches of learning; their subject-matter was condensed into manuals and works of reference used for instruction by universities, schools and private tutors. They were not yet treated in the purely theoretical and scientific manner of the ivory tower; on the contrary, the new humanistic learning served practical ends, and in the process its content underwent great changes. One instance of this, the one that has hitherto received most attention, is the reception of Roman law in the sixteenth century. The Corpus Iuris was first studied in Italy in the High Middle Ages, then in the Holy Roman Empire, whence it ultimately spread to other continental states.4 Opinions differ as to the significance of this development for the legal culture and the social and political conditions of the individual countries of Europe. Modern legal historians no longer see as its chief result the taking over of specific procedures, but the cultivation of scientific legal thinking. The symbolic figure in this continental revolution is the jurist trained in Roman law who replaced the jury, the lay magistrate and the untrained official in the spheres of justice and administration. The cultivation of a scientific approach to other wide areas of practical life in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries appears to be similarly bound up with the influence of the classics. Here we may cite a few examples to represent the whole field of knowledge. Niccolo Tartaglia (1499-1557), one of the foremost mathematicians of the sixteenth century, who addressed himself to the technological problems of his age, made a study of Archimedes and Euclid the basis of his Scientia nova, just as Rafael Bombelli, summarizing contemporary knowledge of algebra, relied upon the newly rediscovered Diophant of Alexandria, whose work he translated from the Vatican codex.5 The modern science of mining goes back to Georg Agricola (1494-1555), 3

4 5

For a general survey see F. Russo, Elements de bibliographie de Vhistoire des sciences et des techniques, Paris 2 1969. Also A. Koyre, 'Les sciences exactes' in R. Taton, La Science moderne {de 1450 a 1800), Paris 1958. (On Apollonius, Archimedes, Pappus, etc. see p. 27, n. 1; for the Almagest of Ptolomaeus, see pp. 53f.) P. Koschaker, Europa und das romische Recht, Munich/Berlin 3 i958, pp. 38ff. L. Olschki, op. cit. (n. 1), vol. in, pp. 77IF. and 1050°.

Introduction who laid the foundations of the four branches of the subject - mining proper, metallurgy, mineralogy and geology. His principal work, De re metallica (1556) was repeatedly reprinted until the eighteenth century. H. Wilsdorf has calculated that in the 450-odd pages of Agricola's work there are approximately 1575 references to ancient sources. At the same time Agricola has a clear tendency ' to cite ancient historians and poets as little as possible and ancient physicians, naturalists and philosophers as extensively as possible'.6 From the material of classical scientific and medical literature Agricola built up a corpus of knowledge which served contemporary interests and helped in the performance of practical tasks. This German humanist wanted, in his own words, to do for mining what the Roman Columella had done for agriculture. The extensive Greek and Roman literature on husbandry was already known in the Middle Ages. From 1472 there had been a collection of Scriptores ret rusticae, compiled from the works of Columella, Palladius and Varro, but it was only in the sixteenth century that husbandry came to be developed scientifically as a result of the study and updating of classical works on agriculture. In 1529 there appeared the standard edition of Geoponica, the authoritative Greek work on agriculture. Two years later the Florentine humanist Vettori published the standard critical edition of the Roman Scriptores ret rusticae. Both works were subsequently translated into various vernaculars. Cato, Varro and Columella, the great Roman authorities on agriculture, were extensively studied and imitated, as were Pliny and Xenophon. Their works, either in the original or in translation, were to be found in the libraries of the European nobility, who, as the landowning class, devoted assiduous study to their principal source of income.7 The agricultural boom of the sixteenth century was accompanied by a great intensification and rationalization of agriculture. Viticulture and fruit-farming were developed systematically along the lines indicated by Columella, and these set the pattern for other kinds of farming. In Italy, Spain, France, England and Germany we find scientific works which draw upon ancient writings, while at the same time taking account of special regional conditions. On the planning and economic organization of the villa Alessandro Piccolomini, in his work on the education of the nobleman (1542), made 'Columella, Pliny and, above all, Xenophon the teachers of the present day'. 8 Thus began the scientific practice of husbandry. Notable French treatments of the subject are the Latin Praedium rusticum of Carolus Stephanus, which was translated into French as Maison rustique and then 6

7

8

H. Wilsdorf, 'Die Auseinandersetzung der Humanisten mit der Antike beim Aufbau der Bergbaukunde', in J. Irmscher (ed), op. cit. (n. i), pp. 201-17. O. Brunner, Adeliges Landleben und europdischer Geisty Salzburg 1949, pp. 260-80. Brunner classifies agriculture among the 'technical' sciences which are based on classical knowledge. A. Buck, op. cit., p. 296.

Introduction into other modern languages, and the Theatre d''agriculture of Olivier de Serres, which became the classic work on agriculture in France and went into twenty-one editions between 1600 and 1804. Comparable works appeared in Germany - De re rustica (1570), by the humanist lawyer and landowner Conrad Heresbach, and the Opus oeconomicum (1593-1603) of Jacob Coler, a professor of theology; this work ran to fourteen editions. Here, however, we become aware of the limits to the adoption of the experience of the ancient world: the Roman literature on the villa was an appropriate model of agrarian rationalization for the great landowner, whose estates were run for the marketing of his products, but not for the large class of smallholders, who were now placed at an even greater disadvantage. The end of the sixteenth century also saw the start of a scientific approach to warfare. In this field the Dutch army reforms probably afford the best instance of the systematic investigation of certain questions raised in classical times and its application to the urgent tasks of the present. With a view to the systematic training of troops, a task not attempted before, the Dutch reformers studied the ancient drill procedures;9 for army organization they studied that of the Romans; they also studied the moral basis for the efficiency of the ancient armies and produced the new Dutch articles of war, following the model of the Roman disciplina militarist The result was the much admired army of the House of Orange, which became a model throughout Europe. Contemporary philologists contributed much. Dutch professors such as Sixtus Arcerius and Johannes Meursius made new editions of the writings of Aelian and the emperor Leo VI; from these came, among other things, the language of drill. From ad hastam declina we get the German rechts um /, the English 'to the right' and the Scots 'richt aboot', and from ad scutum declina we get the German links um!, the English 'to the left' and the Scots 'left aboot'. 11 The works of Greek and Roman historians were combed for pronouncements on military science, and these were compiled for practical use in large collections running to several volumes.r 2 Vegetius was edited and re-edited throughout the sixteenth century.* 3 The reformers demanded 9

10

1J

12

13

Count William Louis of Nassau reported to Prince Maurice of Orange-Nassau on the training of Dutch troops according to the prescriptions of Aelianus and the Emperor Leo VI of Byzantium from Groningen on 8 December 1594. Most recently printed in W. Hahlweg, Die Heeresreform der Oranier und die Antike, Berlin 1941, pp. 255—64. Cf. the article 'Disciplina militaris' in Pauly, Realencyclopddie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft v, 1, col. 1175-83. Cf. W. Hahlweg, op. cit. (see n. 9), pp. 2796°.; id. (ed.), Die Heeresreform der Oranier. Das Kriegsbuch des Graf en jfohann von Nassau-Siegen, Wiesbaden 1973, pp. 120-5. For instance the celebrated humanist Janus Gruterus published in 1624 two folio volumes (over 2,000 pages) of classical writings on warfare. A collection of writings on warfare (including Vegetius, Aelianus, Frontinus, Modestus and Onosander) appeared in 1487.

Introduction new and better translations of Greek works into Latin, in order, for instance, the better to understand Polybius. Numerous translations and descriptions of ancient military organization soon appeared in all the main languages of Europe. The Cannae studies of Count William Louis of Nassau provided models for military strategy.14 Imitation of the ancients, in this and other spheres, did not mean blind adoption, but critical adaptation and transformation. The scientific approach to military organization and warfare, tactics and strategy, began under the tutelage of the ancients. However, a new spirit arose, a new code of behaviour based on an ancient pattern, which contributed greatly to successes on the field of battle. One of the most important agents in the transmission of Roman stoicism was the Dutch professor Justus Lipsius, whose treatment of military affairs in the fifth book of his Politicorum libri sex (1589) had first stimulated the Dutch army reforms. Lipsius subsequently supplied a further basis for the study of modern warfare in two specialized works, De militia romana,15 a commentary on Polybius (1595-6), and Poliorceticon,16 a description of ancient combat technique. From Lipsius we can trace a further line of development to modern political science and the theory of the state. For some time it has been customary to regard the later phase of humanism as a scholarly movement which concerned itself with practical affairs and whose concrete aim was to help constructively in settling the profound political and religious crisis which developed in the age of the religious wars. Throughout the Middle Ages, politics was taught as one of the three branches of practical philosophy, the other two being economics and ethics, and based on Aristotle. It thus remained largely in an abstract framework. In the course of the sixteenth century, Athens receded into the background and interest was concentrated on Roman institutions, since the structure of the early modern state demanded a different scientific orientation. Now it was the Roman political thinkers and historians, foremost among them Tacitus, who supplied the basis for the scientific treatment of practical politics.17 With Machiavelli and Guicciardini began a stream of reflections on a modern art of government. As in the military reform of about 1600, so in 14 15

16

17

G. L. de Nassau, Annibal et Scipion ou lesgrands capitaines, The Hague 1675, ed. by A. C. de Mestre. The fifth edition appeared in 1630. There were 1,500 copies of each of the first three editions, and in all 6,325. See Bibliographie Lipsienne, CEuvres de Juste Lipsey Ghent 1886, vol 11, pp. 113-25. The fourth edition appeared in 1625. The first three editions were of 1,500 copies each, in all 5,275. See Bibl. Lipsienne 11, pp. 319-32. On the study of Tacitus up to the second decade of this century see G. Toffanin, Machiavelli e il' Tacitismo\ La ''Politico stork a^ al tempo della controriforma, Padua 1921. Later studies include: A. Momigliano, 'The first political commentary on Tacitus', Contributo alia storia degli studi classici e delmondo antico 1, Rome 1955, 37-54; J. von Stackelberg, Tacitus in der Romania, Tubingen i960; E.-L. Etter, Tacitus in der Geistesgeschichte des 16. und i/.Jfahrhunderts, Basle 1966; E. T. Galvan, 'El Tacitismo en las doctrinas politicas del Siglo de Oro Espanol' in id., Escritos, Madrid 1971, pp.

Introduction the development of the modern state, Dutch philology had an important part to play. Again the chief figure was Justus Lipsius, with his Politicorum libri sexy which we have already mentioned. In the main this work was a collection of aphorisms from ancient historians and philosophers, treasuries for the practical statesman. The real facts of Roman life - administration and the structure of the financial and fiscal apparatus, as well as the ethical and spiritual foundations of the Roman state - were objects of intensive study and provided an important starting point for the shaping of the early modern state. The political and moral values of Rome, foremost among them auctoritas and disciplina, became fundamental to the historico-political thinking of the age. More than anything else, the notions of auctoritas and disciplina dominated the public institutions of the incipient age of absolutism. The structure of the state and the army, as well as the life led by the upper classes, conformed to the ancient pattern. The purely political interest in Tacitus was now complemented by the rediscovery of Seneca and the development of Neostoicism, both of which were given a largely practical and pedagogical orientation. The virtue of const ant ia became symbolic of the new system of values, which was based partly on Roman moral thinking, partly on Stoic psychology, and partly on practical Neostoicism. In personal affairs too the emphasis was placed on the practical art of living, not on abstract reflection. In all the countries of Europe the seventeenth-century ideal was the 'political man', embodying practical wisdom and savoir-vivre. Institutional, political, economic, constitutional, legal and intellectual history all converge in this ideal. For Max Weber the whole of European development was characterized by the process of rationalization. This process received a special impetus in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The systematic approach to the problems of the age led to the scientific development of statecraft and the arts of war, administration and education, farming and technology. The scientific approach to all these spheres of activity was the outcome, not of individual reflection and creativity, but of receptivity to impulses from the world of antiquity. Classical philology shook off its restrictive links with the narrow class of those who had enjoyed a classical education and broadened its scope to embrace practical science, thus becoming an academic discipline for a much wider class. The influence of such practically orientated classical studies had important consequences, not just for the development of the individual disciplines, but for the practical aspects of the corporative state, absolutism and enlightenment, with their economic, social and cultural life. It ought to be possible, in a comprehensive cultural synthesis, to demonstrate the continuity of man's practical and moral experience, despite the intervening

Introduction crises and changes, and also to provide a further justification for contemporary interest in the world of antiquity, by taking a look at practical affairs, practical science, and the behaviour of the individual and society. In what follows I must confine my study of Justus Lipsius to a consideration of the state, the army and the 'political man'. This, however, introduces us to a vital part of the history of scholarship, for an insight into the spirit of the state and its apparatus of power affords in some measure a reflection of the condition and behaviour of the mass of the population and of the mentality of the age. Neostoicism was an important and constructive element in the political thought at the turn of the sixteenth century. Its aim was to increase the power and efficiency of the state by an acceptance of the central role of force and of the army. At the same time, Neostoicism also demanded self-discipline and the extension of the duties of the ruler and the moral education of the army, the officials, and indeed the whole people, to a life of work, frugality, dutifulness and obedience. The result was a general enhancement of social discipline in all spheres of life, and this enhancement produced, in its turn, a change in the ethos of the individual and his self-perception. This change was to play a crucial role in the later development of both modern industrialism and democracy, both of which presupposed a work ethic and the willingness of the individual to take responsibility. In the last decade of the sixteenth century the states of Europe, riven by confessional and political conflict and threatened with disintegration, received a twofold impulse from the Neostoic political philosophy of the Netherlands. In the first place it gave a great boost to the methodical ordering of national affairs by injecting into political life a new intensity and dynamism founded strictly on reason. It encouraged the rulers to assume an educative role and to bring many areas of public life under the control of the state for the first time. It would be wrong, however, to speak of' early rationalism' in the eighteenth-century sense, since Neostoic reason (ratio) embraced not only pietas, but evtnfortuna. Neostoicism was far from being a doctrinaire movement, as we see from its approach to the two main problems of the day - those of religion and privilege. The estates, for instance, were not opposed as a matter of principle, but only insofar as they resisted the establishment of centralized power. In the second place, classical philology, which had developed into a comprehensive study of the ancient world and given birth to political humanism, put its findings at the disposal of the state and helped in the build-up of its power. Roman military organization and warfare and Roman governmental and fiscal practice in the age of the Principate supplied models to be imitated directly or indirectly. Roman Stoicism, as reconstructed by Lipsius, furnished a philosophical basis for a change in mental and spiritual attitudes; these led

Introduction to a positive acceptance of permanent state power, which was embodied in the standing army. The prince, the civil service and the military were the pillars which supported the modern centralized state. They adopted the Roman doctrines of virtue and duty and constituted a secular counterpart of the Church Militant. Western Christendom, split into two - indeed three - conflicting confessions, was once again linked with the world of antiquity by a broad group of theoretical and practical scholars, among whom the Netherlanders Erasmus, Lipsius and Grotius stand out like the tips of an iceberg. This potent symbiosis replaced the profound religiosity of the Middle Ages and paved the way for a Christian attitude which was confessionally neutral and remained firmly rooted in the religious tradition of the west. Humanism and Neostoicism ushered in what has been called the 'Roman century' and impressed their stamp on the culture of the whole period. They freed the Protestant world, earlier than the Catholic, from the chains which the Church had imposed upon itself and, with Machiavelli as a forerunner, constituted an intermediate stage in the progress towards secularization. Neostoicism considerably strengthened the rational and ethical tendencies of the age, helping to fix them in the general consciousness and transforming them into a broad philosophical attitude. It did not, of course, present a methodically perfect system of thought comparable to the self-contained systems of Descartes, Hobbes, Spinoza and Leibniz. For this reason it is generally given short shrift in the history of philosophy, even though it did represent a powerful current which ultimately led, in the eighteenth century, to the freeing of rational philosophy from all religious ties and to English and French moral philosophy. As a practical guide to the art of living Neostoicism gained a direct hold over the individual, and as a philosophical attitude it worked alongside Calvinism and Jesuitism, the most powerful religious forces of the day, to influence the most varied aspects of life - literature and law, education and society, the economy and the military. Stoicism was an international spiritual and intellectual movement which was able to cross the boundaries of the conflicting confessions and so create a neutral base. Historians of literature, as a result of renewed research into Baroque culture pursued since the First World War, were the first to recognize and bring out the general significance of this movement. The fact that the seventeenth century became essentially a 'Roman' period, that Seneca and Tacitus were the chief witnesses on philosophy and history in the age of the Baroque, and that Machiavelli's conception of a state based on power eventually came to fruition in an entirely changed world - all this seems to me to go back to Lipsius. After painful personal experience he acknowledged the necessity of power, carefully investigating 8

Introduction its scope and providing it with a solid moral foundation in Neostoicism. He sought not only to discipline power and authority, but to limit them. His 'mirror of princes' appealed to the prudentia of the leading personalities in the state and the army and called for vis to be restrained by virtus. The spiritual conflicts and mental contortions of contemporary theology, the military confrontations and the cost in human lives on all sides, the permanent state of inhumanity, insecurity and misery, of flight and exile, created the basic conditions for the widespread adoption of the ideal of humanity, an appeal for humane attitudes and conduct in all those who felt themselves threatened by the religious wars and their consequences. The claim to human dignity and the aspiration for freedom seemed to be guaranteed and satisfied by the demands for the controlling of the passions and the urge for power, for self-inspection and discipline, tolerance and moderation.

PART I

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement

Constantia in publicis malis In 1584 there appeared a small volume entitled De constantia libri duo qui alloquium praecipue continent in publicis malis. Its author, Justus Lipsius, was one of the luminaries of Dutch humanism, a professor of Leiden University, and already renowned throughout Europe for his edition of Tacitus and his commentary on his works. His little book on constantia found a wide and surprisingly rapid response among contemporary readers and proved to be an international best-seller. It was printed forty-four times in the original Latin, fifteen times in French translation, and it was also translated into Dutch, English, German, Spanish, Italian and Polish. Altogether it went into over eighty editions between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries.1 It is a work of moral philosophy with a humanist foundation, a prescription for the behaviour of the individual in the state, society and politics, that public domain of which, from the earliest times, man has only too often felt himself to be a victim rather than a denizen. The starting point for Lipsius' book is the actual state of civil war and the almost unbearable conditions in his own country, the Netherlands. The author presents himself as being on his way to Vienna (as in fact he had been twelve years earlier, in 1572), having decided that he can no longer go on living in Louvain, his old university town. Breaking his journey at Liege, he stays with a friend, the humanist canon Langius (Lang), who rouses him from his despondency and directs his mind to the teachings of philosophy. The conversation between the despairing younger man and the experienced older man, who is secure in the doctrines of the Roman Stoa, furnishes the framework of the two books on constantia. Their message is: endurance, not flight, is the need of the moment and the principle that should guide one's whole life. In the triad constantia, patientia, firmitas (steadfastness, patience, firmness) Lipsius gave to his age, an age of bloody religious strife, the watchword for resistance against the external ills of the world. His moral 1

Cf. F. van der Haeghen, Bibliographic Lipsienne (3 vols), Ghent 1886-8. For the English translation see the edition by R. Kirk and C. M. Hall (New Brunswick, N.J., Rutgers University Press, 1939); for the Dutch, H. van Crombruggen (Amsterdam 1948); for the German, L. Forster (Stuttgart 1965). All have valuable introductions and notes. 13

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands Movement philosophy acquired a leading position in European thought and exercised an obvious influence on scholarship, poetry and art right up to the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century. The Neostoic philosophy which it inaugurated became common property in the Baroque period and formed the basis of its culture.2 With his two systematic works of 16043 and his critical edition of Seneca's Omnia opera (1605) Lipsius became the first of the Dutch humanists to reconstruct Roman Stoicism on a sound philological basis. Neostoicism, taken up and imitated by many, became on the one hand a theory of the art of living, largely determining men's thoughts and attitudes, and, on the other, a new anthropological discipline which served as a foundation for the natural system of the humanities in the seventeenth century, as Dilthey has shown. It was Dilthey who first demonstrated the central importance of Lipsius for the European revival of the Roman Stoa.4 However, the philosophical Neostoicism of Lipsius did not aim solely at providing a moral doctine for the private individual; his ideas on living were primarily political in character. This Dilthey failed to recognize because, like many of his predecessors, such as Robert Mohl, and many of his successors, such as Friedrich Meinecke, he did not take seriously the main political work of Lipsius, the Politicorum libri sex, which appeared in 1589, five years after the ConstantiaJ Thus, the earlier work too came to be seen as expounding a personal, private philosophy, and people forgot to quote or pay attention to the last words of its full title - in publicis malts. There is an extremely close connection between the Constantia and the Political indeed, the political work refers expressly to the earlier philosophical treatise. Philosophical Neostoicism was not just the starting point, but the foundation, of political Neostoicism, which constituted the theory behind the powerful military and administrative structure of the centralized state of the seventeenth century. There were three main reasons for the revival of late Roman philosophy in this period. In the first place there was, of course, the purely scholarly - philological and historical - interest in the classical languages, leading to the editing of the works of the ancient 2

3

4

5

Since Dilthey's rediscovery of Neostoicism the secondary literature (in the fields of philosophy, literary history and the history of art) has proliferated enormously. The latest authoritative handbooks should be consulted. Manuductionis ad Stoic am philosophiam libri tres, L. Annaeo Senecae aliisque scriptoribus illustrandis, Antwerp 1604; Physiologiae Stoicorum libri tres, L. Annaeo Senecae aliisque scriptoribus illustrandis, Antwerp 1604. W. Dilthey, Gesammelte Schriften II, Weltanschauung und Analyse des Menschen seit Renaissance und Reformation, 5th edn. Stuttgart and Gottingen 1957, pp. 17, 439X, 443ff. Dilthey, op. cit., p. 269, speaks of it as a 'much read but quite insignificant political work'. F. Meinecke, Die Idee der Staatsra'son in der neueren Geschichte, 3rd edn. Munich and Berlin 1929, pp. 32 and 248, regarded Lipsius' treatise as ' a useful compilation of classical thought on reason of state which did not deserve detailed analysis'.

14

Constantia in publicis mails stoics - the ad fontes of humanism. In the second place, the new spirit of the Renaissance no longer had any use for scholastic philosophy and turned, especially after the resurgence of religious sentiment, to the Roman Stoa, which had many affinities with Christianity. In the Middle Ages Seneca had been considered a secret Christian. However, there is a third and decisive reason, viz. a certain similarity between the conditions of life under the Roman Empire and those obtaining under the Counter-Reformation - constitutional changes in the state, political and spiritual oppression, legal insecurity.6 The worthlessness of material goods in these unstable times was felt very strongly. Only the possession of inner values, such as were embodied in the teachings of Stoicism, could be the goal of life; Lipsius made it a general ideal. The atrocious religious and political wars in France, the Netherlands and Germany, similar tensions and unrest in England before the Puritan revolution - all these provided a natural climate for the revival of Roman Stoicism. Sancte Seneca, ora pro nobis became the watchword among both the adherents of the different confessions and those who were uncommitted. Admittedly, everybody meant something different by it, as is also shown by the reception of Lipsius's Constantia, which was non-Christian in origin, but was interpreted in a Christian sense. When Lipsius brought out the Constantia in 1584, he had been professor of history and law for five years at the recently founded university of Leiden. This was the end of a chapter in his turbulent life, the course of which was determined by the revolt of the Netherlands. In his famous autobiography, Lipsius outlines his career.7 He was born in Overijsche in Brabant in 1547, where his father, a local landowner, had been burgomaster; later he became vice-magistrate and deputy burgomaster of Brussels, and leader of the civil guard. Justus went to the Jesuit college in Cologne, where he received a grounding in rhetoric and philosophy and joined the Society of Jesus as a novice. However, his parents did not accept their son's decision and sent him, at the age of sixteen, to the university of Louvain to study laws. He began to study classical philology with Cornelius Valerius, and after his parents' early death he devoted himself entirely to this study. Lipsius published his critical conjectures, resulting from his reading of many Latin authors, in a book entitled Variarum lectionum libri quattuor. He dedicated it to Cardinal Granvelle, Philip IPs minister, who was one of the founders of the University of Douai and a promoter of humanism. It soon made the young scholar famous. Granvelle offered the nineteenyear-old Lipsius a post as secretary for Latin correspondence in Rome. 6 7

See K. H. Wels, 'Opitz und die stoische Philosophic', Euphorion 21 (1944) 88f. Cf. the chapter 'Justus Lipsius in sua re' in G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt desfruhmodernen Staates. Ausgewahlte Aufsdtze, Berlin 1969, pp. 80-100. 15

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Living in this city for more than two years had a decisive effect on his understanding of scholarship and the direction of his interests. The most varied human, intellectual and political contacts were suddenly available to him. Through Granvelle he was introduced to politics, the intellectual world of Machiavelli and Guicciardini, and the circle of humanists. He had access to the manuscripts of such Roman writers as Tacitus, Seneca, Plautus and Terence, and the treasures of the Vatican Library were opened to him. Of capital importance for his whole development was his friendship with the Frenchman Antoine Muret, who was professor of moral philosophy at the university. Muret, who sought to revive the study of rhetoric, placed moral philosophy in the service not only of morality, but of politics. His interest in this kind of practical philosophy was accompanied by a predilection for the anti-Ciceronian style. Tacitus and Seneca, who were Muret's models of style, became Lipsius' favourite writers.8 He devoted all his talents to reconstructing and propagating their works. Thanks to him they became models for European humanism as well as for the different national literatures. Their concise, terse, almost military language became the language of the historico-political movement which Lipsius later established at Leiden and which radiated from there. Lipsius returned to Louvain, but as early as 1571, feeling threatened by the Inquisition and the institution of the Council of Troubles under the Duke of Alva, he fled to the imperial court in Vienna, where he hoped to find a livelihood in the humanist circle of Maximilian II. Returning by way of Bohemia and Thuringia, he applied for the vacant chair of rhetoric and history at the Lutheran university of Jena. The strictly Protestant lectures he gave there are authentic. After only two years, however, he returned to Cologne to complete his edition of Tacitus. This edition brought the twenty-eight-year-old Lipsius instant fame. It represented a great advance on all previous editions of Tacitus - and for a century Tacitus became the most popular writer on history and politics. Lipsius' textual criticism remains a great philological achievement, even when one takes into account the fact that he adopted, under his own name, unpublished emendations by Muret and others. Lipsius was the first to distinguish consistently between the Annals and the Histories. His later commentary on the Annals is still regarded by specialists as a masterpiece of scholarship. A general amnesty enabled Lipsius to complete his law studies at Louvain, and he began to lecture on classical literature. Two years later his safety was again threatened after the victory of Don John of Austria at Gembloux, since he had acquired Lutheran leanings during his time in 8

See Morris W. Croll, Style, Rhetoric and Rhythm, Princeton, N J . 1966. 16

Constantia in publicis malts Jena. He fled to Antwerp, where he received an invitation from Jan Dousa, one of the trustees of the Calvinist university of Leiden, founded in 1575, to become a professor there. At Leiden he embarked upon the twelve years of teaching which made him the acknowledged leader of later European humanism. From 1579 to 1591 he was the pride of the new university, which owed its European standing largely to him. Let us briefly recall the general problems of the period of the religious wars, problems which were of crucial significance for Lipsius' work. There were wars between the great powers and civil wars, usually going on simultaneously. Amid all the religious divisions in the world, no principle governing constitutional, moral, military and social affairs commanded general assent. Two conflicting confessions were seeking to determine the shape of society. The spiritual unity of the medieval world, which historians tend to exaggerate anyway, had long ago been destroyed, but it was not until the Protestant revolution and the Catholic Counter-Reformation that extreme conflict developed everywhere. Since the mid-sixteenth century the two great militant forces had been gathering - a resurgent Catholicism, under the leadership of the Jesuits, and Calvinism, the representative of the hard-pressed Protestant minorities. The countries of Europe were moving more or less clearly towards the post-feudal, early modern state, often characterized by a moderate form of early absolutism. This move was accelerated by the wars and by shifts in the European state-system. The estates, especially the nobles, were justifiably fearful for their privileges and tried to prevent the ever more powerful princes from creating a new internal order. Among the mercenary troops who were recruited from time to time for limited periods and for specific purposes, there was a frightening lack of discipline which has often been described. Their commanders belonged to an international class of military and economic entrepreneurs who lacked any political or ethical allegiance. Extremes of indiscipline and insecurity were created by the most outrageous conflicts of all, the ideological civil wars which sometimes lasted for decades. In order to establish discipline in secular and church life, the princes issued territorial, local and ecclesiastical ordinances regulating the lives of their subjects. In the countries he knew at first hand - the Netherlands of the revolt against Spain, the France of the Massacre of St Bartholomew, and the Germany of the 'cold war' of the three confessions following the Peace of Augsburg of 1555 - Lipsius saw himself drawn into public life. So, in his Constantia,9 he begins his conversation with Lang in Liege by confessing 9

A more extensive summary and evaluation of the Constantia can be found in my dissertation, Antiker Geist und moderner Staat bei Justus Lipsius {i547-1606). Der Neustoizisntus als politische Bewegung (Free University, Berlin 1954, typescript), pp. 38-90, with further references to the relevant 17

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement that he wants to escape the civil unrest and the danger of war in his own country. He can no longer bear the terrible conditions of the Dutch revolt. He needs security and stability around him. The noise of arms deprives him of the opportunity to work undisturbed; the rampaging soldiery compels him to quit the peace of the country for the protective walls of the town. This undisguised suggestion of flight is countered by his interlocutor Lang in order to give the conversation a decisive turn: Why travel ? What part of Europe is not now visited by unrest? We must flee, not from our country, but from our emotions. We must steel our minds - that is, our understanding and our soul - and so temper them that in the midst of turmoil we may have peace, in the midst of conflict tranquility (Ita non p atria fugienda, sed adfectus sunt: &firmandusita formandusque hie animus, ut quies nobis in turbis sit & pax inter media arma). This is only to be done by following the voice of wisdom and reason. 'You are enveloped by the mist and clouds of opinion.' True, you are fleeing from your country, but you will not escape from yourself. You are dragging your sick mind with you. For the source of all disquiet lies in ourselves, in our opinions of things. This introduces the important contrast which dominates the conversation, the contrast between ratio and opinio. Reason is the lawful ruler of the mind; the fight against the passions is a necessary condition for any victory over the anxious cares within us. One must be a different person, not in a different place. Everybody carries the war with him, carries it within him. Constancy is required before all else; only in fight can one be victorious, not in flight. The watchword is 'resist', not 'yield', 'fight', not 'flight'. Supreme demands are made: the bonds which anxiety imposes on the mind must be shaken off, the chains of Prometheus must he broken by a new Hercules. The myth of Prometheus, which plays such an important role in the rhetoric of the sixteenth century, thus becomes for Lipsius a symbol of his own endeavours.l ° The allusion to the freeing of Prometheus bound to the rock incorporates the two elements which together constitute the aim of the Constantia - the renewal of the self by self-liberation and active participation in political society. These demands are in the tradition of Renaissance rhetoric and the later phase of Italian humanism. We cannot rehearse here all the concepts of the Neostoic art of living and

10

literature. The editions of 1591, 1637 and 1711 were used; the last is not listed in the Bibliographic Lipsienne. The German translation by Viritius (1st edn. 1599, 2nd edn. 1601) does not capture or attempt to capture the concise Taciteian style with its military terseness, but it is more economical than the florid prose of the early Baroque, and it earned Lipsius's approval. E. Cassirer, Individuum und Kostnos in der Philosophic der Renaissance, Leipzig and Berlin 1927, pp. 98fF. English translation by M. Domandi, The Individual and the Cosmos in Renaissance Philosophy, New York 1964, p. 92 and passim. 18

Constantia in publicis malis their definitions. The prime concept, constancy, is defined as the proper and immovable strength of the mind that is neither elated nor downcast by outward or fortuitous circumstances. Strength is a firmness implanted in the mind, not by opinion, but by judgement and right reason {Constantiam hie appello rectum et immotum robur animi, non elati externis autfortuitis non depressi. Robur dixi et intelligofirmitudineminsitam animo, non ab Opinione, sed a judieio et recta Ratione). The mother of constancy is patience and quietness of mind. It is governed by the balance of unique reason (unius rationis trutina), which makes it the touchstone for every test. Reason itself is nothing other than true judgment and feeling regarding things human and divine, insofar as they concern us. Its opposite, opinio, vain imagining, i.e. opinion which is not founded on reason, gives a false and unreliable judgment about things. Since reason and opinion both seek to govern, there is a continual struggle between them. Man is led and guided by these two. 'Reason comes from heaven, from God himself- Seneca extolled it as a part of the divine spirit implanted in man.' Reason is that extraordinary power which makes us able to understand and to judge. Just as the mind makes man perfect, so reason makes the mind perfect. The Greeks called it nous, the Romans mens or mens animi. Reason leads us to those goals which are worth striving for, constantia and virtus. Firmly and immovably rooted in what is good, it always seeks or shuns one and the same thing and is the source and origin of right resolutions and judgements. The eulogy of reason ends with the sentence: 'To obey her is to rule, to submit to her is to be lord of all earthly things.' Deus ipse per hanc sui imaginem ad nos venit, imo quod propius est, in nos.

The source of opinio is the earth and the body. The latter is inert and insensible; only the mind gives it life and movement, presenting the images of things to it through the windows of the senses. Opinion is unreliable, and inconstant too, approving one thing today, another tomorrow, and judging things wrongly. Just as the eye sees things indistinctly through the mist, so does the mind through the cloud of opinion. We doubt, we vacillate, we are discontent with God and the world. Opinio is the mother of all ills. With the discussion of ills, which Lipsius divides into public and private ills, we reach the definition of the mala public a of his title. Among the public ills, those affecting not one person alone, but many (here the anthropology of the individual is expanded into a theory of society) are war, pestilence, famine, tyranny, massacres; among the private ills are pain, poverty, disgrace and death. The misfortune of one's country, the proscription and ruin of many of its citizens, cause great pain. The fervent love of country lauded and commended by poets and orators must be moderated and restrained,' for in truth it is a vice, a form of licence On the other hand it is a grave sickness. For in it there is not one single pain, but a confusion 19

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement of yours and others'. And the pain of others is also twofold - part on account of men and part on account of their country. And so one pities oneself, one's fellow-citizens and one's country.' Lipsius is thus examining public or political life. He is concerned to address himself to questions of universal significance and interest. His sympathy is engaged by communal problems and contemporary issues. One is anxious for the welfare of one's country, but in most of us this anxiety really conceals the simple personal fear of losing our property and our lives. Public suffering touches men only because they themselves are affected. Just as lightning strikes one man down, yet all who witness it tremble, so in political crises only a few suffer harm, yet all are struck by fear. If war is being waged among the Ethiopians or Indians, no one is troubled about it. If rebellion and unrest break out in the Netherlands, everyone laments. For what reason? This is our country, they say; other lands are not. ' Fool! Are not the people of those lands the same as you in nature and descent, living under the same vault of heaven, on the same globe ? Do you think this little plot of land, bounded by these mountains and these rivers, is your country? You are wrong. The whole world (universus orbis) is your country, wherever there are men. Lang refers to Socrates, who, when asked about his citizenship, replied that he was 'a citizen of the world'. If God were to guarantee that our property would remain untouched and unharmed, would anyone grieve for his country? This is how the sorrows of others affect us when we ourselves are secure. We grieve sincerely and wholeheartedly over our own, but over those of the community we grieve only out of propriety and habit. 'Tear down this thespian curtain!' exclaims Lang to his young companion. When the latter objects that one is attached to one's country by a secret natural bond, by birth, childhood, youth, early friendships and the like, and that the poets of antiquity praise love of country, Lang at once demolishes these mistaken ideas. The task of philosophy, he says, is to teach and to be of use, not to delight and to please. The philosopher's study is like the doctor's surgery. The philosopher does not caress, but probes, cuts, scrapes, and washes away with the salt of his teachings the dirt that attaches to the soul. Lang thus attacks false pietas, masquerading as love of country. True pietas is a legitimate honour we owe to God and our parents {legitimus debitusque honor et amor in Deum ac parentes). Our country is not our mother; only by our parents were we begotten, carried in the womb and born into the world. To our country we can give only affection or love (inclination amory caritas). In such restricted terms Lang admits, as 'a man and a citizen', to love of country, but he is always concerned to moderate it. For the wind of common 20

Constantia in publicis malts opinion, the favour of popular sentiment, easily lets it get out of hand. This love for one's particular country derives not from nature, but from convention and habit (a more et instituto). To elucidate all this there follows a brief theory of the origin of the state. 'After men had been driven from the rude, solitary, nomadic life into settlements and had begun to build towns and walls, to hold assemblies, to exercise authority in common (populariter) and to ward off violence, it was natural that there should develop among them a form of society and a communal interest in certain things. They shared in common {conjunctim) territory and frontiers, temples, markets, treasuries, tribunals and - the greatest of bonds - ceremonies, justice and laws. These things our hearts began to love and cherish as though they were our own - which they almost were. For the individual citizens have indeed a claim to them: they are no different from private possessions (a privatis possessionibus)y except that they do not belong to one person alone. This common ownership (consortio), however, produced, as it were, the form and appearance of a new condition (fortnam etfaciem novi status) which we call respublica or patria. When men realized how greatly their country contributed to their own welfare, laws were made for its support and defence, or use and custom were handed down from ancestors {a majoribus mos) and had the force of laws.' Lipsius elaborates the theme clearly and once more underlines it: we love our country because for each of us it contains something of his own. Love of country comes ab amove privato, which is produced and promoted by custom or law. This is what gives rise to joy or sorrow over the weal or woe of the community. This view finds support in the fact that not everybody has the same intense and natural love for his country. The privileged nobles or the rich, for instance, are more patriotic than those of lesser rank and the poor. Indeed, anger, love, ambition or acquisitiveness can easily induce men to leave their country. For the sake of money Italians go to distant Russia, and the desire for gain sends Spaniards to the New World. Lipsius now gives his definition of patria: one community and, as it were, a common ship under one king or one law (unus aliquis status, ut dixiy et communis velut navis sub uno rege aut sub una lege). It must by rights be loved and defended by its citizens. Horace rightly said Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. But he said 'die', not 'lament'. We must be good citizens in order to be good men (boni viri). Our true country is still heaven. The communal state arises from the gregarious instinct, usefulness, and love of self (amor privatus). In the thirteenth chapter of the first book the main battle against the mala publica is joined. Lipsius wishes to establish four theses: first, that 21

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement the terrible times are sent by God; secondly, that they are unavoidable and determined by fate; thirdly, that they are useful to us; fourthly, that they are neither grave nor new. These are questions in the theology and philosophy of history. Just as feelings and emotions are produced by an unthinking mind, so are the pains we feel for the respublica. God, who is the eternal intelligence, creates, disposes and sustains everything. There is no such thing as chance or accident. The voice of nature tells us that there is something above us; that something is God. From God comes all happiness and all misery. Earthquakes, pestilence, war and tyranny have their place in the scheme of providence (providentia). It is both vain and foolish to resist. Rather, man must obey like the soldier in the camp or in the field. 'We have been obliged to swear this oath to the colours', says Seneca, 'to bear all things human with patience, and not let ourselves be disquieted by what we do not comprehend. We are born into a kingdom: to obey God is to be free.'11 We are His subjects. Lipsius goes on to treat the role of necessitas in public a mala. Necessity is for him the stable order and immutable power of providence. For all things human are subject to change and decay. They speed towards certain death and dissolution. Pestilence, war, murder and all other causes of death are but tools. From the beginning of time the eternal law of the world has been that we are born only to die, that we come into being only to vanish. Everything is continually changing. The same law obtains in nature, in human life and in political affairs. Cities, commonwealths and kingdoms know youth, maturity, senility and death. Lipsius surveys the history of the world. Empires, nations and cities grow, die and disappear. Addressing his beloved Antwerp, the queen of cities to whom the Constantia is dedicated, he cries: 'You too will perish and be obliterated like Carthage, Numantia and Corinth. Nothing lasts for ever; only change and the instability of all things remain.' The extraordinarily eloquent description of eternal change culminates in a political prophecy which the first English translator, Sir John Stradling, rendered: 'Haue you Germanes in time past bene fierce? Be now milder than most people of Europe. Haue you Brittaines bene vnciuill heretofore? Now exceed you the Egyptians and people of Sybaris in delights and riches. Hath Greece once flourished? Now let her be afflicted. Hath Italy swayed the scepter? Now let her be in subiection. You Gothes, you Vandales, you vilest of the Barbarians, peep you out of your lurking holes, and come rule the nations in your turne. Drawe neere yee rude Scythians, and with a mightie hand hold you a whiles the raynes of Asia and Europe: yet you againe soone after giue place, and yeeld vp the scepter to another nation 11

Seneca, De vita beata VII, 15, 7. 22

Constantia in publicis malts bordering on the Ocean. Am I deceiued? Or els do I see the sunne of another new Empire arising in the West?' 12 To God and necessity Lipsius adds a third force - fate. Poets, historians and philosophers all acknowledge fatum. Lipsius rejects the Stoics' concept of fate, but in the same passage he makes the clearest declaration of his sympathy with their philosophy: ' These explanations [those of the Stoics] do not depart too far from Tightness and truth if they are interpreted in a healthy and moderate fashion.' He defends the Stoics against the reproach that they subordinated God and man's free will to fate. True, one finds here and there a few excessive pronouncements. But the followers of the Stoa defended God's majesty and providence as no other philosophers have done, and did more than any other to lead man towards the Eternal. The emphasis on violence in their conception of fate was due only to their anxiety to turn men away from the blind goddess Fortune. Explaining the aeternum providentiae decretum, the Dutch humanist reveals himself as the heir to Renaissance philosophy. For his decisive definition he goes to Pico della Mirandola: 'Fate is a series and order of causes which depends upon a divine resolve.' Providence is distinguished from fate. Providence is a power and a faculty in God, whereby he sees, knows and governs all things. Fate comes from God, it is true, but it resides in the things themselves. It is the first cause (prima causa). Among the secondary causes (secundae mediaeque causae) is man's free will. God has foreseen everything, but he does not force it upon men. It is only we who act. Lipsius now asks the question: 'Should one not let one's hands rest in one's lap if the mala public a are determined by an ineluctable fate ? Should one exert oneself in any way for the community ?' Lang replies that fate does not operate by itself, but through means or ancillary causes. If something is to happen in the world, man must first fulfill certain conditions. For instance, if you are ill and fate has decreed that you will become healthy, you must still make use of the physician and his medicines. The same holds good for one's country. If fate wants the unstable, sinking ship of state to be saved, it also wants men to fight for it and defend it. As long as one's country is alive, one must stand up for it. One must not immediately despair. One must not, however, fight against that which cannot be altered, but, like Solon after Athens had been taken by the tyrant Pisistratos, lay down one's arms at the town hall. Whether the country totters or falls, decays or perishes, the good citizen {bonus civis) must retain his constantia. So ends the first part of the dialogue. 12

Two Bookes ofConstancie. Written in Latine by Iustus Lipsius. Englished by Sir John Stradling. Edited

with an Introduction by Rudolf Kirk. Notes by Clayton Morris Hall. (Rutgers University Studies in English no. 2), Brunswick NJ 1939, p. nof. 23

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement The second book leads us to the ideas of constancy and firmness by way of wisdom (sapientia) and the ideal of the 'wise man'. Learning is not the goal of life, but only the starting point and the road which leads to the goal. There is a gradation among the ideals for living: the learned, the wise, the good (vir doctus, sapiens, bonus); the man of knowledge, the man of wisdom, the man of action (scire, sapere, facere). We must know not for the sake of knowing, but in order to be able to act. The motto is 'to serve life' (vitae factorumque cura). The road leads through poetry and language, through philology in other words, to philosophy, wisdom and steadfastness. However, sapientia is not to be gained by wishing, but only by toil and diligence. Seek, read, learn. Knowing, wisdom and action are degrees in the humanist philosophy of Italy. Bovillus, in his De Sapiente of 1509, had traced the early steps that precede knowing - esse, vivere, sentire, intelligere from being to self-awareness. Cassirer called this book 'the most curious and, in many respects, most characteristic creation of Renaissance philosophy'.13 Humanist philosophy from Bovillus to Lipsius proceeded from wisdom to action, from contemplatio to actio.14 In passing, so to speak, Lipsius formulates a.political theodicy. Not that he denies the hubris of power, the atrocities and injustices in history, the arrogance of countless tyrants great and small, from Dionysios to Caesar and the Roman emperors. But he shows how all of them are eventually visited by divine retribution. The public a mala are called useful, even good. One must draw back the curtain of opinion and look at their source and their ultimate object. Their source is with God, and as Plato, the prince of philosophers, says, God does nothing evil, nor can he be the cause of anything evil. All political life is directed towards an ultimate good, as if by an invisible cord. Caesar, Attila, the two Vespasians, the persecution of Jews and Christians and, in the present, 'the stadholder of the Spaniard, Don John of Austria', are cited as agents of divine purposes. They simply demonstrate that the sufferings caused by them have a positive object. Terrible times have a threefold purpose. First, they train and strengthen the brave; they act, so to speak, as a school of fortitude and courage in which God is the trainer. Training both tests and encourages. Secondly, they help men by chastising them; when the peoples have sinned, the public a mala serve as a scourge; when the peoples wish to sin, they serve as a bridle. Thirdly, the punishment of all evil-doers is good and necessary: divine justice requires it, and it serves as an example to others. 13 14

E. Cassirer, op. cit., p. E. Garin, Vumanesimo examines this trend in by Peter Munz, Italian

93. The work of Bovillus is reprinted on pp. 301-412. italiano: filosojia e vita civile nel Rinascimento, 7th edn. Rome/Bari 1978, some detail. See especially pp. 203-7. An English translation is provided Humanism: Philosophy and Civic Life in the Renaissance, Oxford 1965. See

especially pp. 179-82. 24

Constantia in publicis malts Beside these three purposes there exists a fourth, which is more general: the preservation and improvement of the whole world. For God has firmly ordained the size of the human race and must intervene with war and pestilence in order that all the living may be fed. The wars go hard with the people, but they stimulate activity, usually producing a cultivation of the spirit in many spheres and fostering the various sciences and skills. These points are elucidated with the help of many examples from history, especially Roman history. Moderatoribus reipublicae salus populi suprema lex

est\ God too acts according to this principle. Three problems posed by the political theodicy are touched upon. First: God only defers punishment, he does not let anyone off, as the examples of Caligula and Nero demonstrate. Lipsius gives especially dramatic accounts of the murder of Julius Caesar and the death of Mark Antony. Secondly: there are no innocent peoples, and perfect justice ensures that guilt is always followed by punishment; however, man cannot judge others' guilt and sin, and so we must not judge God's punishments, but hold our peace. And thirdly: in political life the punishments for high treason or lese-majeste are extended to others, even to children. To God, however, the race of the Caesars or the Scipios is one, just as to Him the Roman Empire is one. God may punish the community for the individual or the individual for the community. We cannot judge all this, arcana enim haec arcana. If we are wise, we shall not broach these questions - which is the wisdom of every theodicy. Finally, the ills of public life are neither grave nor new. We fear our ideas of things, not the things themselves. It is opinioy a false and mistaken idea, which makes the publica mala - poverty, exile, death - seem so grave and great. War and tyranny may impoverish us, tributes and taxes exhaust us; but nature created us poor, and she will take us back poor. Even exile is no grave matter, for a wise man is a stranger wherever he is {Sapiens ubicumque est peregrinatur). The ultimate ill, the threat of death at the hands of a tyrant, throws a special light on what the treatise seeks to teach us. Here it is the circumstances that we fear rather than the thing itself. For death confronts us every day (cottidie a natura). 'All those hordes of soldiers, all those menacing swords, will do no more and no less than what a fever, a fruit-stone or a worm can do.' Death by the sword is even to be preferred, since the sword kills instantaneously, while a fever may give years of torment.15 The historical comparisons show that present ills are neither particularly 15

This idea is absent from the Editio castigata. It would be interesting to investigate the elimination of all ' unchristian' passages in the account given by the scholar who was originally the most consistent modernizer of classical Stoicism, and to see what other changes he made. This would allow us to study the christianization of Roman Stoicism in Baroque philosophy and literature. 25

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement grave nor particularly new. However, Lipsius indites an eloquent lament for the Netherlands. 'Behold, we are driven hither and thither by war, we are tormented not only by external wars, but by civil wars, not only by civil war but by war among ourselves. For we have not only two parties, but new parties springing up from within them. Oh my country! What salvation will preserve you? To these ills are added pestilence, famine, forced contributions, robbery, murder and - worst of all ills - tyranny and repression not only of the body, but of the spirit. What do we see in the other countries of Europe ? War or fear of war amid supposed peace, and shameful servitude under petty rulers, which is hardly preferable to war itself.' Lang objects to this: Every generation complains of the present and longs for the past; that is the lot of mankind. In the past, however, there was even greater misery. Ancient times too were full of wars. ' Indeed, they began with the creation and will go on as long as the world endures.' We shudder when we take stock of the dismal and frightening cost of wars. The number of dead in the history of the Jews can be calculated with the help of Josephus, and the destruction and loss of life in the wars of Greece and Italy can be estimated on the evidence of Plutarch, Polybius, Appian, Florus and others.16 Caesar is seen as 'the plague and the ruin of the human race'. The Dutchman describes too the atrocities of the Spanish colonists in the sixteenth century, the massacres on Cuba and Haiti, and on the coasts of Peru and Mexico. 'My speech and my soul grow faint in the recital', he says, 'for the wars of ancient times knew nothing severer.' Pestilence, dearth, famine and unimaginable imposts had more disastrous consequences in ancient times than at present. To exemplify the extreme of tyranny Lipsius describes the institution of the Roman military colonies - the summary expulsion of the inhabitants of the provinces from hearth and home because of their rich acres, the breaking up of families, the parting of children from parents, of women from their menfolk. After briefly mentioning contemporary atrocities, with an allusion to Alva's ' Council of Troubles' in the Netherlands and the massacre of St Bartholomew in France, Lang adduces further examples from ancient history, such as the banishments and executions under Sulla and the triumvirate, the massacres in Spain under Servius Galba and Licinius Lucullus, the butchery in Perusia under Octavian, in Alexandria under Caracalla, and in the theatre of Thessalonica under Theodosius. This brief account of historical reality, described with harsh realism and extreme forcefulness, was assuredly not lost on the reader. History tells us also of dictatorship and the harsh subjugation of body and spirit. Very few men, possessed of power, are capable of moderation 16

Fifty years later Gabriel Naude, Considerations politiques sur les coups d'etat, Paris 1639, p. 114, refers to this calculation of lives lost in the wars of ancient times. 26

Constantia in publicis mails and restraint. Nevertheless, no external force will ever succeed in making you 'want what you do not want and believe what you do not believe'. A man may take my life, but not my faith. As an instance of former religious persecution the author cites the compulsion to worship the ruler as a divine being, as in the days of the Persian and oriental kings, and under Alexander the Great, Caligula, Nero and Domitian. Tacitus tells of other violations of spiritual freedom - the burning of the books, again under Domitian. In the passage in question Tacitus affords a shattering glimpse of the worst consequences of dictatorship: We have had to go through the worst that servitude has to offer - a man no longer wanted to speak to another or have any dealings with him. The dialogue between Lipsius and Lang ends with an urgent appeal for steadfastness, character and courage.

27

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy Stoicism had played a part in European humanism before Lipsius,1 but the new Stoicism was only properly established by his Constantia and by his later, more systematic accounts of the ancient Stoa, in which he attempted to reconcile Stoicism and Christianity. Lipsius had many imitators. The best-known was Guillaume du Vair, whose treatise De la Constance et consolation es catamites publiques was written during the

tribulations of the siege of Paris and published immediately in 1593.2 Here too the mention of catamites publiques indicates the author's pre-occupation with politics, although du Vair, a Catholic who later became a bishop, combined Stoicism with Christianity to form a philosophical basis for the conduct of the political man. The first task was to educate a new kind of man, the individual with a civic sense who would go beyond the Christianity of the Middle Ages, embrace the old Roman values, and demonstrate the importance of rationality in character, action and thought. Lipsius wanted men to be, in the Stoic sense, citizens of the world, not just of their own countries. In other words, the disciple of Seneca recognized country and state as realities and believed that we must stand up for them, but he did not put love of country on a par with the virtus of pietas, the natural love we owe to God and our parents. Nationalism is set against cosmopolitanism, or rather subordinated to it. Lipsius was in a position to observe the beginnings of nationalism in the humanism of the different peoples of Europe and in the wars of the sixteenth century; also he had become acquainted in Italy with the sacro egoismo of the state. He was clearly opposed to all extremes of national feeling and ambition. The individual is a member of a community, his country. This community must be loved and defended by its citizens. But the political community is not something that lasts for ever: it too is subject to the natural law of change, of growth and decline. Just as states and empires are born, grow and flourish, so too they perish. This harks back to the 1 2

L. Zanta, La Renaissance du stoicisme au XVIe siecle, Paris 1914. H. Glaesener, 'Juste Lipse et Guillaume du Vair', Revue beige de philologie et d'histoire 17 (1938)

27-42.

28

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy organic concept of the state and the Stoic idea of a pre-determined cycle - not, however, the cycle of constitutions described by Polybius. There is no word here of the divine right of princes, the divine origin of secular power, the Christian duty of those in authority, or the common good. For the Stoic nothing takes place by chance; Providence, an immutable scheme of which we know nothing, determines the course of events. In the great scheme of the universe every people and every man has a predetermined place. We cannot evade or resist Providence, but must obey it, as a soldier obeys. Order entails subordination; we must obey God. There is only one duty which the civis must always perform: in the fortunes and misfortunes of political life he must retain his constancy, follow reason and curb his natural instincts. The ultimate sense of Neostoic constantia is defined by Lipsius at the beginning of the first book when he says:' Many have prevailed by fighting, but not by fleeing.' Here we see the orientation of his political philosophy towards action; this is reinforced by the stress laid on free will, contrary to ancient Stoic teaching. God does not force man's will. It is we alone who act, not fate, and we are free to act as we choose. The great concern of Lipsius and his school is action, activity. The virtus of constancy and firmness is the unshakeableness of Greek Stoic morality transformed into something dynamic. The Roman philosophy of the will underlies the motto idem velle, idem nolle.3 A combative will and the utmost concentration of energy combine to form a great reserve of mental power - in constantia and robur animi. Lipsius sharply criticizes miseratio - sympathy and pity - for they are of no use to man. On the other hand he calls for true compassion, which actively intervenes with help. At this point Roman Stoicism replaces medieval Christian thinking, a fact which brought Lipsius under attack from theologians of all denominations; they objected to this passage, with its undisguised element of ancient Stoicism. When the work was translated into Spanish, the offending sentences were deleted by Index Commission. Lipsius calls for an exceedingly severe, controlled manliness in the Stoic mould, in short for a character anchored in reason. It was not for nothing that this philosophy appealed to men who were determined on resistance in the religious wars, and especially to the soldiers. The famous Lipsian style, with its terse, laconic, peremptory language and its abundance of military similes and metaphors, was bound to captivate the select circle of officers educated in the classics, a class which was so important in this warlike age. The dialogue is constructed on the model of a great battle; this lends special force to the active significance of the concept of constantia 3

The reference is presumably to Sallust, Catiline 5: ' Idem velle atque idem nolle, ea demum firma amicitia est.' ('To share the same likes and the same dislikes - this is firm friendship indeed.') 29

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement and thus to the 'activist' content of the book as a whole. After the preliminary questions have been dealt with in the form of' skirmishes and minor encounters', Lipsius sends his four arguments for constantia into battle in the form of four regiments, colours flying and bands playing. This is a military picture calculated to impress the army leaders and contrasting with the scholastic method of abstract philosophizing or the dogmatic disputations of theology. Next come the images from sea-travel. They appealed to the members of the Dutch merchant class, the second significant educated group next to the military leaders. The wealth of imagery, which can bring every idea to life by means of vivid similes, in combination with the lively and forceful presentation is still effective today. The difficult questions of the political theodicy, the justification of the ways of God in the face of the brutalities of history, are set out clearly and simply, though they hardly carry any real conviction. Lipsius the rhetorician succeeded brilliantly in the ordering of his copious material. Form, language and content attain perfect unity in the Constantia. All this goes to explain the wide popularity of the work in the political, mercantile and military world of the late sixteenth century and the whole of the seventeenth.4 The ideal individual in the political world, as portrayed by Lipsius, is the citizen who acts according to reason, is answerable to himself, controls his emotions, and is ready to fight. This ideal of Lipsius was so in tune with the political spirit of the age that agreement was soon achieved between his anthropology and the form of the state. For the Lipsian view of man and the world, carried over into the realm of politics, entails rationalization of the state and its apparatus of government, autocratic rule by the prince, the imposition of discipline on his subjects, and strong military defence. These principles lie at the foundation of the early modern state. To this foundation and to men's view of the state Lipsius made an essential contribution with his Politica, which appeared five years after the Constantia. The ideal of the politically active man which Lipsius created in the Constantia was all the more important in view of the sceptical tendencies of the time, which urged withdrawal from public affairs and even contempt for public office. It was only in his Politica, however, that Lipsius gave a fully rounded picture of the new state which would answer to contemporary demands and of the men who should hold responsibility within it. In his preface to the Constantia Lipsius justified his shift from literary scholarship to philosophy. He had, he said, been busied with philosophy since his youth, and now he saw his contemporaries remaining behind in 4

W. Dilthey, Gesammelte Schriften II, Weltanschauung und Analyse des Menschen seit Renaissance und Reformation, 5th edn. Stuttgart and Gottingen 1957, gives an important general account of the influence of Stoicism.

30

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy its forecourt. He, however, desired to obtain from philosophy a real medicine for use in public affairs, an utterly serious tool for living (instrumentum vitae maxime serium). And in fact we find in his little book more practical psychology than abstract ethics, more direct guidance for wise living than theoretical moralizing, more political insight than personal confession. This preoccupation with real life makes his teaching eminently practical; it was designed to be of service to the whole man, and in particular to help him in his attitude to political events - as the words of the title in publicis malts proclaim. In the foreground are the dreadful conditions of a society which is menaced and alarmed by war and rebellions, unrest and banishments, murder and executions - that is to say the effects of the political and religious crisis of the time. Behind these loom the perpetual problems, no different in kind, which face man amid the vicissitudes of life; these are given depth by the accompanying historical perspective. Historical examples are not just casual adornments in Lipsius's writing: they are an essential feature of the historico-political trend of contemporary humanism, and at the same time a humanist fashion. Writing and thinking were steeped in them; the Constantia follows the fashion. In the realm of ethics it points to the close connection between the understanding of history and the study of man. For their illustrations writers did not go to the more recent period of the Middle Ages, but to the classical world. The chosen examples should be assessed for what they reveal about anthropology and psychology, not for their historical accuracy. To ignore this would be to misconstrue the intention behind the Constantia. Lipsius complains about the orthodox philosophy of the time, the empty bandying of words, the niceties and subtleties of sham disputations. While scholastic learning deals in abstractions, he says, he embraces life in its entirety, moderating the passions and providing a goal for human hopes and fears. Thus, his ship sails 'towards the one harbour of tranquillity'. Lipsius offers us, then, a point of rest from which we can approach the world of history, politics and society; he does this by showing us a line of retreat leading back to man himself. In his preface Lipsius names Seneca and the divine Epictetus as his teachers. And his book is indeed based on them, even if he sometimes departs from their views in the course of his treatise. He does what orthodox philosophy fails to do: he comes to the aid of his contemporaries, who are threatened by war and anarchy, liberating them from fear and anxiety by means of a potent wisdom, that of the Stoa, now renewed and made active. The universal religious and metaphysical themes which agitate oppressed minds concern him too. These prompt his definitions of divine providence and human predestination, justice, perpetual change, ineluctable fate and free will.

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement A comprehensive interpretation of the Constantia is given by Franz Borkenau in an interesting and stimulating book which attempts to demonstrate pragmatically how the fundamental categories underlying the mathematical and mechanistic view of the world current in the seventeenth century emerged from the social conflicts of the period.5 Borkenau sees the seventeenth century as one of the dark periods of history. Religion still held undisputed sway over most men's minds, but it had abandoned its gentle and conciliatory aspects. Of the cohesive medieval order nothing remained but its oppressiveness. In this transitional age between feudalism and capitalism Borkenau allots a place to Neostoicism. He compares Lipsian teaching with Calvinism and notes important affinities, while also stressing the differences. 'Unlike Calvinism,' he writes, 'Neostoicism expressly evolved at least the most general principles of a moral and social theory in which, for the first time, all the main features of capitalism are to be found.' Borkenau lists these principles. Of particular importance is the motive for men's actions, namely individual advantage and egoism. He rightly emphasizes too that rational severity is the least painful mode of conduct. Borkenau sees Neostoicism as the first mode of thought to accept capitalism. 'The moral principles of emotion-free action as developed by Lipsius, rational egoism and rational severity are the constitutive elements in the capitalist art of living' (p. 190). All the same, it is the political issues which are central to the work, and Borkenau sees this. 'The problem which life poses for the Stoic is the attitude of the individual in politics, and only this. The rule is: Be outwardly involved in them, but inwardly detached from them.' But he goes on: 'This evinces a far broader understanding of capitalism than is found in Calvin.' Since Borkenau concentrates on this one question, he misses the one which was more significant and topical at the time - the formation of the modern state. It was to this task that Lipsius addressed himself in his main historico-political work, the Politics of 1589, which Borkenau does not even mention.6 The Constantia was merely a preliminary treatise on morals and society. The imitations of the Constantia (du Vair's work and the Constance novels in France, Joseph Hall's work in England, etc.) are better known today than the original work. In all European languages, constantia, Constance, constancy etc.7 became key terms in contemporary moral thinking and sentiment. 5

6

7

F. Borkenau, Der Ubergang vom feudalen zum biirgerlichen Weltbild. Studien zur Geschichte der

Philosophic der Manufakturperiode, Paris 1934, repr. Darmstadt 1971, pp. 180—92. While Dilthey treats Neostoic influence in general terms, Borkenau examines it in relation to the social classes. Nevertheless Borkenau believes that the representatives of the new anthropology had decisive connections with the government and magistrature. 'Thus Lipsius', he writes, 'though a university professor in Jena, Leiden and Louvain, was so active politically that he must be regarded first and foremost as a political figure' (op. cit., p. 179). No conclusion is drawn from this assertion. For modern editions of the translations, see Ch. 1, n. 1. 32

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy Everybody took from Stoic ethics what he wanted to hear and needed to know. Above all, Lispius's book became the bible of the humanists and all those groups which did not wish to take up arms in the cause of religious dogma. It embodied elements of militant Calvinism together with arguments used by the Jesuits, with their emphasis on the freedom of the will. Lipsius met the real religious needs of the age by supplying a religious, yet undogmatic base and, finally, by adapting it in some measure to Christian piety, but he openly declined to become involved in theology. In this age of confessional conflict, his appeal to ratio, to moral forces controlled by reason, liberated human piety and religious sentiment from dogmatism. Reason is called upon to create a world of self-control, moderation, pious yet active faith, and genuine reverence for God. Reason is the divine part of man and - unlike the soulless intellect of later rationalism - not inimical to piety, but in fact intimately linked to it. Thus Lipsius, both heir to the Italian Renaissance and transcending it, combined ratio and pietas in his philosophy of life, so reviving and transforming the ideal of Stoic wisdom. He was enthusiastically received in all camps. The strict Dutch Calvinist Philip Marnix gave the Constantia a rapturous welcome.8 David Chytraus of Rostock, a Lutheran theologian and follower of Melanchthon, introduced it in his lectures with the words: 'Buy it and read it, students, because no such book on philosophy has been written or seen in a thousand years.'9 In France the leading proponents of Neostoicism were two Catholic clerics, Charron and du Vair, the former a priest, the latter a bishop.10 Ever since the start of the Renaissance the Stoic doctrines had been gaining in popularity. This advance was reinforced and accelerated in France by the religious wars. Educated Frenchmen, whether Calvinists or Catholics, embraced the new ideas out of disgust at the bloodshed caused by dogmatic conflicts, so that even Catholic theologians sought to discover and rescue true Christianity with the help of Seneca and Epictetus. A climate favourable to Stoic ideas about life and the state had been created in the early years of French humanism under Guillaume Bude, and from the first there were close links between French Calvinism and Roman Stoicism, going back to the Genevan reformer himself.11 Calvin first 8

9

10

11

See the letter of the buitenburgemeester Marnix, one of the spiritual leaders of the Dutch revolt and a close friend of William of Orange, in J. Lipsius, Epistolarum quae in Centuriis non extant decades XIIX, Hardervici (i.e. Harderwijk (Guelders)) 1621, p. 137f. Chytraus praised the work also in an unpublished letter to Lipsius of 31 October 1590 (Leiden University Library, MS. Lips. 4, fol. 368). Cf. G. Abel, Stoizismus und Friihe Neuzeit. Zur Entstehungsgeschichte modernen Denkens im Felde von Ethik und Politik, Berlin/New York 1978. J. Bohatec, Bude und Calvin. Studien zur Gedankenwelt desfranzosischen Fruhhumanismus, Graz 1950. See passages on Cicero, Epictetus and Seneca. 33

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement attracted attention in 1532 with his superb commentary on Seneca's De dementia, and even in his Institutio religionis christianae he remained true to his humanist principles, proving all tenets of faith with the aid of ancient writers wherever possible.12 The Roman moral values were transmitted by the Huguenots and finally found brilliant contemporary expression in Lipsian Neostoicism. Constance, fermete, perseverance won the same commanding position in French Calvinism as constantia,firmitas, perseverantia had in Lipsian doctrine. In the last quarter of the sixteenth century the centre of humanist activity moved from France to the Low Countries, and it is symbolic that it should have been a Huguenot of Italian stock, the younger Scaliger, who was elected to succeed Justus Lipsius in Leiden. The Dutch school of philology now produced the leading figures of European humanism, which was expanding to become a cohesive trend in scholarship and a historico-political movement. The structure of this phenomenon has been described by Erich Trunz in his article 'Der deutsche Spathumanismus um 1600 als StandeskulturV3 According to Trunz, Lipsius was in his day a prince of western scholarship, but he was not alone. He was joined by a whole circle of scholars whom we may call collectively 'the Netherlands movement'. Trunz writes: 'The men who are most often cited and were at the centre of scholarly life were...the Dutch university professors J. Lipsius, D. Heinsius, J. Scaliger, H. Grotius, G. Vossius, J. Meursius, J. Dousa, F. Junius, and the Frenchman I. Casaubonus. Consult any contemporary collection of learned letters, and you will find these names forming a nucleus. In the republic of letters they were the leaders.' We soon find their pupils in all the universities of Europe. The possibility of proving or disproving these assertions in detail is afforded by the correspondence of this group. Although largely uninvestigated, it is either printed in large folio volumes or contained in the manuscript collections of the libraries.14 This later phase of humanism is, of course, more than a class culture, as Trunz would have it, more than a school of superior erudition, of critical method and brilliant philological conjecture.15 No education which was confined to formal aesthetics, antiquarian learning or linguistic scholarship 12 13

14

15

J. Bohatec, op. cit., p 246. Zeitschrift fur Geschichte der Erziehung und des Unterrichts, 21 (1931), repr. in R. Alewyn (ed.), Deutsche Barockforschung, Cologne 1966, pp. 147-81. A. Gerlo and H. D. L. Vervliet, Inventaire de la correspondance de Juste Lipse, 1564-1606, Antwerp 1968; idd. and Irene Vertessen (eds), La correspondance de Juste Lipse conservee au Musee Plantin-Moretus. Introduction, Correspondance et Commentaire, Documents, Bibliographic, Antwerp 1967. See also L. van der Essen and H. F. Bouchery, Waarom Justus Lipsius gevierd?, Brussels 1949 (Mededelingen van de koninklijke vlaamse Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en schone Kunsten van Belgie, Jg. XI, 8), p. 8.

34

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy would have been adequate to the exigencies of this age of confessional conflict or could have counted on an overwhelmingly favourable response. The aim of the Netherlands movement was comprehensive learning and influence, afirmphilosophical ideal, the political and military transformation of the community, the educating of men for action in this community, self-control and involvement, and, as I said earlier of sixteenth-century humanism in general, a scientific approach to wide areas of practical life. 16 This call for activity and perseverance is what clearly distinguishes Neostoic philosophy from its classical model. Will, reason and discipline become from now on dominant values of the age. Energy and rational severity are set against misericordia, simple, passive compassion, as prerequisites in the struggle of life. Struggle is seen positively as the natural condition of life, but at the same time it is disciplined by ratio. The man who curbs the blind passions and emotions that threaten reasoned thought and action will finally achieve spiritual and moral freedom and so be enabled to deal with life in a creative manner. Struggle in this sense has nothing to do with the use of violence, nor does Lipsius's book start out from rebellion, but from the question of flight or perseverance. The Netherlands movement set out to provide a comprehensive rule of life informed by Roman Stoicism, a political philosophy, a philosophia practica. What has so far been overlooked by philosophical and literary research, as well as by Dilthey and his successors, is the fact that Neostoicism formed the essential basis for the humanist political system. In his Politics Lipsius himself interpreted his Constantia as having educated the citizen in patience and obedience. It was the citizens and subjects who would soon have to endure, obey and work in accordance with the requirements of the state and its monarch - the citizens who would have to control their emotions and act on their own responsibility. The patient, obedient subjects would be leading their lives within the framework of changing constitutional forms. Thus, the view of man and the world anthropology and moral philosophy - continued to conform with the requirements and realities of the early modern state. Of the mass of the population Lipsius had no high opinion. They were easily roused to revolt and hence must be treated by the prince with wisdom, severity and superiority. Lipsius did not write for them, but for his own class, the property-owning burghers, the educated men in the universities and government, those members of the upper or middle class who were the leaders and supporters of the incipient absolute state. He saw the interests 16

Dilthey, op. cit., repeatedly speaks of a 'movement', on p. 102 of a 'Netherlands movement'. The sense intended i s ' impetus, forward pressure, energy'. I also use the term in this sense to characterize the factors that made Neostoicism into a 'movement' and the circle of men who brought it about; it also expresses the fact that they had an inner unity.

35

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement of the people as fully met within a strong, well organized community under the guidance of a wise, pious and just prince. The first hundred years of the University of Leiden fell within the period which saw most European monarchies making the important transition from confessionally based corporative communities to an 'absolutism' bound by a morality which was grounded in natural law. Modern historians of political ideas, impressed by the constitutional struggles of the nineteenth century, view this change in the first place in terms of the distribution and exercise of power. They discuss the endless debates between princes and estates and seize upon questions of sovereignty, raison d^etat and absolutism. There are hardly any investigations of the discussions that were going on about how to create new power and extend existing power as a necessary condition for the evolution of the modern, post-feudal state. Hardly any attention is paid to the theories that were designed to intensify and discipline public life and to give it fresh vigour and dynamism - theories which were realized in political practice. This is because it is generally thought that the realities of constitutional change made such considerations - even theoretical guide-lines - otiose/ The elaboration of army organization and state finance, two of the most important instruments at the state's disposal in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, are held to have resulted from military and political necessity and to have evolved by themselves in response to the requirements of the real world: that, we are told, is where we should look for the motive forces behind such developments. Hence, the theories of practical government which were current at the time have been left largely unexamined, as opposed to those which are interesting from the standpoint of legal and constitutional philosophy. Political humanism, as it originated in and spread from the Netherlands, addressed itself to precisely such practical tasks - the government of a community, the political education of the rulers, the structure of the army and the administration. The life-work of Hugo Grotius must be mentioned in this connection. It does not consist simply of his theory of the limitation of war and of the humanizing of relations between states, which were in a chaotic natural state: he also gave careful thought to all the internal problems of the contemporary state and the most just way of solving them. His work on natural, international and constitutional law represents a further stage in the development of Dutch humanism. This stage was preceded by Justus Lipsius and those thinkers who, at the critical period of the religious wars, worked out a theory for a strong, authoritarian state supported by the army, and set it down in their manuals. Closely related to it was the idea of moderate government bound by religious, moral and legal principles. 36

The political intent in Neostoic philosophy There is no clear dividing line between the two stages of legal and constitutional thinking. They are linked by the questions they raised and the answers they gave, quite apart from the fact that there was direct contact between the young Grotius and the aging Lipsius. The fact that they shared the same views is due also to their both knowing the Spanish doctrines on the law and the state: Lipsius had already noted them and embodied them in his thinking; Grotius accorded them central importance and carried them further. No modern scholar has noticed or described the correspondence of Lipsius about the Spanish scholastic writers of his day.17 Humanism, in the form given to it by Erasmus of Rotterdam, seemed at first to have few direct links with the incipient modern state and the European state system. True, Erasmus' ideas on politics were influential in leading circles,18 above all at the tense diet of Augsburg in 1530. His followers fostered a readiness for peaceful compromise in both confessions, until things were settled without compromise by the Council of Trent. Essentially Erasmus' life-work served to propagate humanism through his revival of classical studies and teaching methods and through his making the works of classical literature available to a wider public. The period of expansion was followed by one of erudition. The humanists devoted themselves more and more to pure scholarship - to philology and textual criticism. Their links with the broader educated class became progressively weaker. Only late in the sixteenth century did humanism make its full impact on ideological and constitutional life and on the technical sciences. The almost exclusive concentration on Latin literature brought the Rome of the principate out of the obscurity of the past and set in train the influence of Rome on philosophy and literature, legal and constitutional study, architecture and warfare. It was only in the autumn of humanism, as it were, that the fruits of the whole movement were gathered. Around 1600, especially in the France of Henry IV and the Netherlands, Stoicism became the ideology, almost the religion, of educated men. From then on the stream of Roman Stoic thought flowed to the religious confessions, adapted to Christianity or latently hostile, but largely ignoring confessional divisions. Only quite recently the sociologist Alexander Riistow has drawn attention to this ideological undercurrent in Baroque philosophy and literature. 'The spiritual influence of the Stoa in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was enormous', he writes, 'and, with the exception of Aristotle's, it has been far greater in post-classical times than that of all other philosophies put together. The fact that we are still generally unaware of this is due simply to the fact that there is as yet no 17

18

Meanwhile a fundamental monograph has appeared on the connections between Lipsius and Spain, J. Gottigny, Jfuste Lipse et VEspagne (15Q2-1638), Louvain 1968. P. Rassow, Die politische Welt Karls V., Munich 1942, pp. 536°.

37

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement even remotely adequate description of this influence, that Stoic doctrines usually appear anonymously, and that they are consequently often overlooked today.'19 Anyone who consults the surveys of secondary literature to discover what research has been done since the First World War on the survival of antiquity20 will be astonished to note the influence of Stoicism from the sixteenth century until well into the eighteenth; this is documented for all disciplines. It is now no longer possible to write a life of Descartes, Pascal or Spinoza, of Corneille or Opitz, or even of cameralists like J. J. Becher, without tracing the development of Neostoicism. The Deism of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries must be considered as a modern revival of ancient Stoicism. The ideological foundations of natural law, which dominated the jurisprudence of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries - even where Grotius is concerned - are to be sought not so much in scholasticism as in the direct revival of the Stoa. Pufendorf, in his Specimen controversiarum, was still able to maintain that the Stoic doctrines could easily form a compendium on natural law. Stoic psychology had a decisive influence on all the psychological theories of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Stoic ethics became the accepted moral doctrine in France, England, Sweden and Germany.21 Even Descartes, who set up his new philosophy in opposition to all previous philosophy in the Netherlands, grounded his ethics on the manuals of the Stoic system written by Justus Lipsius. Finally, the stoicizing moralism of historiography was predominant until well into the Age of Enlightenment. 19

20

21

A. Riistow, Ortsbestimmung der Gegenwart.

Eine universalgeschichtliche Kulturkritik,

vol. n,

Erlenbach-Ziirich 1951, pp. 377f. See R. Newald, 'Nachleben der Antike' in Jfahresbericht iiber die Fortschritte der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft, vol. 232 (1931) for 1920-9; vol. 250 (1935) for 1930-4. See also the two volumes of the Kulturwissenschaftliche Bibliographie zum Nachleben der Antike edited by the Warburg Library (1934 and 1938), the second under the title A Bibliography of the Survival of the Classics. A resumption of these valuable studies would be of great benefit. See W. Rehm, * Romisch-romanischer Barockheroismus und seine Umgestaltung in Deutschland', Germaniseh-romanischeMonatsschrift22(1934), nowrepr. in W. Rehm, G'otterstilleundGottertrauer, Munich 1951. On p. 37 Rehm writes: 'Stoic ethics, which were revived in Holland, France and Germany about the beginning of the seventeenth century and continued to determine the view of man and the ideal of man, together with Seneca, became important sources for the new spiritual and literary life of Germany.' Evidence for an increasingly Stoic attitude to life in England is presented by P. Meissner, England im Zeitalter von Humanismus, Renaissance und Reformation, Heidelberg 1952, p. 1766*".

The main political work of Lipsius Lipsius' Politicorum sive civilis doctrinae libri sex appeared in Leiden in 1589. It followed more than fifteen years of conscious or unconscious preparation, during which Lipsius had occupied himself with Tacitus, the greatest of the Roman historians. His celebrated Tacitus edition of 15741 is not just a work of brilliant philology and textual criticism: it also exhibits the editor's concern with practical politics, the linking of politics and history. In his introduction Lipsius stresses the modernity of the Roman and praises his account of history as a fund of experience for tackling present problems. This propensity for the practical exploitation of history comes out even more strongly in the Tacitus commentary of 1581.2 Rome and things Roman, in particular the period of the Principate, were again and again invoked by Lipsius as a model of the present. The seventeenth century has been called, not without reason, the 'Neo-Roman period'. For Lipsius and his contemporaries, the Roman past prompted a wealth of observations which were now to be used in the service of state administration and the moulding of public life. In the dedication to his commentary on Tacitus, Lipsius advises the Dutch ruling class to draw upon history and experience as the basis of a science of politics. He himself, as a much-consulted teacher, a much-read author and an authoritative editor of classical writers, always directed his activity to practical ends - and these he achieved, for in both the Constantia and the Politics Lipsius correctly read the signs of the times. The crisis in the community, the break-up of effective power at the top, the decline of political authority in France, Scotland, Poland and the German Empire, were closely connected with the passionate confessional conflict, which was continually being stirred up by religious and political fanatics. The Massacre of St Bartholomew in 1572, two years before Lipsius published his edition of Tacitus, was just one outstanding incident along the interminable road of suffering, which threatened the structure of the state and the existence of every individual. The ecclesia militans, whether 1

2

Tacitus, Opera omnia. This edition was repeatedly enlarged and improved. Cf. Bibliographic Lipsienne. Ad Annales Corn. Taciti liber commentarius.

39

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement in the Jesuit or the Calvinist mould, in common with a disaffected nobility and an impressionable populace, advanced revolutionary theories of the state; against this Lipsius set a philosophia militans, favouring legitimate authority and the power of the state. His political doctrine logically and systematically draws the political and military consequences from the general state of affairs in the interest of his own section of society, the educated men in the universities and in government and the merchant patriciate. These all stood above the religious factions. They were the third force, tolerant out of conviction or necessity, usually out of both. The Leiden professor opposes the monarchomachs, with their doctrines of tyrannicide and popular sovereignty, openly declaring himself for monarchy and a moderate form of absolutism. At the same time he supports ideas of reform relevant to the age; these are based on the virtues and obligations preached by the Stoics, who time and again called for present political conditions to be examined from the standpoint not only of reason, but of morality and humanity. At one moment Lipsius appears as a conservative guardian of tradition, opposed to all innovation or change, at another as an apostle of reform. Some of the reforms he calls for - such as equality in legal status and taxation — point well beyond his own time; others — such as those in the sphere of warfare — were to be immediately successful. The Politics comprises six books. The first two deal with princely rule as a moral institution, the third and fourth with the state as an institution for government and a force for order, the fifth and sixth with war and peace. Lipsius was so well versed in the classics that he was able to express his ideas by means of quotations from Greek and Latin authors and so apparently disappear behind his work. Yet it is his own pregnant formulations that stick in the mind. At the outset Lipsius gives a table of the authors he draws upon and divides them into three groups. Tacitus, his crown witness, stands alone in the first. The second is made up of the Romans Sallust, Livy, Seneca, Cicero, Curtius, Pliny the Younger and - for military matters - Vegetius, together with the Greeks Aristotle, Thucydides, Plato and Xenophon. The third contains seventy Roman and thirtyfive Greek writers, among them Church Fathers. Lipsius had assimilated the Christian cultural tradition and European moral philosophy; and he presumably knew the revived political and social teaching of Thomas Aquinas, though he does not include him among the seventy-seven Latin writers in his autorum syllabus.2' It must be remembered that he was writing in the Protestant north, not in Louvain, and that in principle he was studying contemporary and classical literature rather than that of the 3

Lipsius mentions Thomas only twice in his entire works. This he does in the Manuductio (1604), Opera omnia iv (1637) p. 495b and in Lovanium (1605) in Opera omnia in, p. 784b. 40

The main political work of Lipsius Middle Ages. However, one can clearly discern the immediate sources of the Lipsian Christian tradition - the great Spanish theological jurists of the sixteenth century, foremost among them Francisco de Vitoria, though their names too are absent. As his predecessors Lipsius acknowledges Plato, Aristotle, Xenophon and - with moral reservations - Machiavelli. He boasts of his systematic method, which is obviously modelled on the formal logic of Peter Ramus and has the same aim - the fusion of logic and rhetoric. The scholar of Leiden, like Ramus, starts from a major concept, which he then sub-divides in order to build up, by means of subsequent subdivisions, a self-contained system, though at times he manages to adhere to his system only with difficulty. The definitions with which Lipsius begins his chapters are his own; these are then justified and elucidated by classical quotations. From the fourth book onwards, which goes more fully into the immediate political and military requirements of his own age, Lipsius uses more of his own words. There now follow individual sections of some length which contain no quotations. In these Lipsius elaborates a political or military concept which has become significant for the history of early absolutism and the evolution of the modern state. The doctrine of the state, grounded in Stoic philosophy, is not confined to mere theory, to such themes as the contractual basis of state and society and the transference and distribution of power. It is designed to be of service to practising statesmen. This fundamental feature of the work, its practical orientation, was no doubt the main reason for its rapid popularity. Nowhere does it adopt the apodeictic tone of a rigid theory; always there are qualifications like 'usually', 'often', 'mostly', 'in many instances'. In the dedication Lipsius describes the office of prince as the greatest and most glorious, but as one fraught with unique responsibility. Wise men and philosophers must support the sovereign in his tasks,' lighting him the way with the torch of wholesome teaching'. Lipsius directs the attention of the rulers to the common good as the factor which should govern their conduct, for they rule only for the sake of the people and for their benefit, not only as masters and judges, but as protectors and servants. Lipsius declares, without explaining the point, that the community is entrusted to the rulers by God and men in order that they may guard it and care for it. A righteous ruler knows how to blend the contrary elements of potentia et modestia, power and moderation, in such a way that the sentiments of love and fear contend with each other in his subjects. In this introduction Lipsius strikes the moderate note that he wishes to be heard in his work. The prince stands above his people, but at the same time he must be the servant of all. This was the language of the monarchomachs, the Dutch advocates of the Rebellion; yet what follows

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement from this tenet - the granting of estate representation - is not treated, or even mentioned, by Lipsius. In the preface to the reader he says that in his Politics he is embarking upon a pedagogical programme identical with that of his book De constantia. Whereas the latter enjoined the subjects to endure and to obey with patience, he now intends to educate and instruct the prince, the governor of the state. The first book starts with the community, not the individual. It first defines the vita civilis as 'life in human society for mutual advantage or benefit' (Quam in hominum societate mixti degimus ad mutua commoda sive usum). For a guide in social life Lipsius prescribes prudentia et virtus. Prudence governs the vita civilis, but without morality it remains craft and cunning. Virtus is proper to man. It offers stability in the hurly-burly of existence, whereas all else is subject to the power of fortune. Virtue consists of pietas and probitas. Pietas embraces true knowledge of God and the proper service of God. Both receive their light from the scriptures, but there are a good many 'little sparks' in the profane political works adduced by Lipsius. There follows a 'theology' based entirely on ancient thinkers, poets and writers, and establishing God's omnipotence, righteousness and omnipresence and his dominion over all creation. Calvin had already dressed out his teaching about the divine majesty with classical quotations; Lipsius now does the same, though more thoroughly.4 His definition of religion too follows the pagan authors; there is no word of faith in Christ. Religio - later pietas - consists for Lipsius not in subtle exegesis, but in deeds and works (non in subtilitate religio sed in fact is). This concept has a flavour of the activism which was fostered by the Stoa and which later, among the Pietists, permeated the whole community. Fatum and conscientia are associated with pietas. Since God governs and sustains everything, he sees and ordains everything in advance; He is the cause of all causes. Although Lipsius makes everything subordinate to divine Providence, he makes an exception of the human will: 'Man must bravely seize the oar in the ship whose tiller is held by God.' Nothing falls into our laps; the gods have set sweat before success. We must humbly and patiently commit everything to Providence, but we ourselves must take a hand. The definition of conscience as reliqua in homine rectae rationis scintilla, bonorum malorumque facinorum judex et index shows especially clearly how the pen of the Dutch professor is guided by the convictions of Roman Stoicism. 4

Cf. J. Bohatec, Bude und Calvin. Studien zur Qedankenwelt des franzosischen Friihhumanismus, Graz 1950. Calvin, for instance, elucidates the concept of pietas according to Cicero (cognitio Dei) and Seneca (cultus). Probably it was not least because of this obvious connection that the civilis doctrina met with such a response among Calvinists in all parts of Europe, especially among the Huguenots. Yet while Calvin endowed the doctrines of antiquity ' with a Christian content' (as Bohatec puts it, op. cit. p. 244), Lipsius lets them stand without any biblical additions, elucidation or even interpretation.

42

The main political work of Lipsius Prudence, the second foundation of life, gives discernment and true judgment (discretio et rectum judicium). Upon this critical faculty rests the true art of living. It was taught and emphasized particularly by Guicciardini. Experience and recollection (usus et memoria), i.e. empiricism and history are the props of Lipsian prudence - a prudence, then, which operates quite undogmatically, though very methodically, and rejects the scholastic method, old and new. Thus Lipsius recognizes the combination of religious and ethical thought with empirical and scientific thought as a necessary factor in social life. The second book, which gives a general survey of government and a mirror of princes, first divides societas into commercium et imperium. He does not discuss commercium, which belongs to the moral and economic sphere, i.e. economic life in the modern sense. Imperium is a certus ordo injubendo etparendo. The state, with its ruler, is celebrated as the only pillar of human affairs, the bond that unites the community, the living breath, the source of order. Lipsius declares himself for princely rule as the oldest, most natural, most reasonable and most common form of government - a conception of monarchy whose attributes were fully preserved in the seventeenth century. Only princely rule can guarantee pax and concordia, the goals of the age. After discussing the person of the ruler and elective and hereditary succession (no other road to power is legitimate and hence stable), Lipsius speaks of the aim and object of government: Finis: bonum publicum, quae non aliud quam subditorum commodum, securitas, salus. The state which is

defined here, the source of welfare and security, is guaranteed if the ruler, in his actions, looks to his subjects and not to himself. Lipsius rejects dominium and calls for the protection of the subjects. To him the office of ruler entails not only obligations, but also burdens. The doctrines contained in the treatise on the common good, De Clementia, which Seneca composed for Nero, are quoted. Lipsius now turns to the proper conduct of the prince and develops a political ethic based on Stoicism. Here again he refrains from any reference to the Bible. This ethic relies on sharp psychological perception.5 Prudence and virtue alone can make the sovereign a perfect ruler. However, the subjects too must possess virtue, since without it the community remains weak and unstable. The ruler is the pattern for his subjects. Examples are as effective as laws, for human nature would rather be guided than coerced. As Lipsius felicitously puts it, 'a pattern is a secret law'. The ruler is bound by the laws; his authority is limited. Lipsius, like Francisco de Vitoria, clearly opposes the ancient Roman formula rex legibus 5

G. Mobus, Die politischen Theorien im Zeitalter der absoluten Monarchic bis zur Franzb'sischen Revolution. Politische Theorien, Teil II, Cologne/Opladen 1961, p. 15.

43

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement solutusy which Bodin supported. The Frenchman is not named; nor, however, is any other contemporary political theorist. Lipsius adheres to Seneca's opinion that it is not proper for him who has the greatest authority or power to do just what he pleases. He sharply rejects any doctrine depending on power and utility. He now turns to law and law-giving and calls for great and small alike to be protected under the same law - in other words, for equality before the law to be guaranteed to all, without respect of person or rank. He warns against passing too many laws, because this can only lead to litigation and legal wrangles. The lawyers who profit from them he calls the plague of the whole of Europe and the cause of present troubles. Lipsius advocates a reform of the whole legal system; he is no blind worshipper of Roman law. 'A new Justinian is needed!' he exclaims. Yet the learned jurist refrains from saying anything precise, let alone fundamental, about the reforms that are needed; this contrasts with his pronouncements on military reform and anticipates in a way the development of absolutism: justice remained the stepchild of national reforms until the second half of the eighteenth century. Beside the sun of justice the moon of clemency must shine too. dementia is for Lipsius, as for Calvin, 'the most human of all virtues'. It produces love on the part of the subjects and hence secure and stable government. Thus the ideal is a legitimist and patriarchal absolutism. The next chapter contrasts strongly with the - so to speak - timeless mirror of princes which precedes it. It concerns loyalty (fides). Under no circumstances may a promise be broken, either by force or cunning. A promise must be kept, even if made to heretics, just like one made to any enemy in war. This principle was not respected everywhere in the age of religious conflict. Perhaps Lipsius had become acquainted with Spanish natural law during his legal training in Louvain, between 1576 and 1578. He refers only to Ambrose's De Officiis. Lipsius is sharply critical of the 'sect of Machiavellus'; this seems to imply that he intended to make a distinction between Machiavelli himself and his followers. Modesty (modestia)y a Roman Stoic virtue, is commended to the prince with the words: 'Consider that you are a man, a poor, insignificant man.' All the same, Lipsius has a strong sense of the grandeur of sovereignty and the majesty of the ruler. Solemn demeanour, courageous words and social reserve help him to achieve the necessary auctoritas. For anyone who is too quickly familiar is easily despised. In the third book, important and, in many cases, influential principles are enunciated for the bureaucracy, the civilian pillar of the modern state. The prudentia ab aliis, the prudence of others, is still treated here in personal terms. The apparatus of national administration is not described in detail, and no reforms are proposed - as they are in the case of the military. Power 44

The main political work of Lipsius and prudence are the basis of the state. Power without prudence is blind and acts in an improvidential manner. Power tempered and directed by prudence (vis temperat a) is the ideal; it is at the same time the strongest power. Among bureaucrats Lipsius makes a distinction between advisers (consiliarii) and administrators in the service of the state and the court (administri publice aut privatim). He lays down simple and judicious principles for their selection and draws up an extensive list of attributes, both good and bad, general and particular, found in administrators. In the prince's advisers, for instance, he calls for unconditional loyalty, a certain age, proven fortune and success, and a measure of ingenuity (' for I do not care to deal with men who are too ingenious'), but above all fear of God, frankness and courage, steadfastness, emotional control and discretion. On the other hand he condemns obstinacy, disputatiousness, emotion and self-seeking as utterly intolerable. He recommends that, in the choice of civil servants, their background, life-style and ability (genus, vita, ingenium) should be looked into, and that in their employment attention should be paid to these. This was the first time that the qualities and duties of a modern bureaucracy had been thoroughly examined and properly formulated on the basis of the Neostoic ethic and ideology. Council meetings should be held regularly, so that all matters may be deliberated carefully and in good time. Decisions, however, must be made by the sovereign alone, and he must keep them to himself. The importance of personal rule is strongly emphasized later,6 but even at this point Lipsius warns against the power wielded by the servants and advisers employed in the prince's offices, the cubiculares consiliarii. A combination of government in council and government by cabinet is therefore recommended and this was in fact the common form of government practised in almost all states during the seventeenth century. The fourth book, more detailed than the previous, describes actual constitutional practice.7 Thepropriaprudentia is divided intoprudentia togata and prudentia militaris. Military affairs are reserved for the last two books; in this fourth book Lipsius treats res divinae and res humanae. In religion and church organization he accords the prince no autonomy, only the right to supervise, which is designed to protect more than to govern. Inspectio in sacra is thus a secular right. Chapters 2-4 of the book attracted most attention immediately after the appearance of the Politics as a result of attacks by Coornhert. Lipsius demanded that, ideally, there should be only one religion in the state, so as to avoid dissension and constant revolts. He 6 7

Pol. IV, 9 adstricta forma. This part of the theory of government in particular is especially practical and became an international manual for politicians. See A. Coron (ed.) Les 'Politicorumy she chilis doctrinae, libri sex' de Juste Lipse, Edition critique du livre IV, Paris 1974.

45

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement was thus far from concluding from the wars of religion that there should be complete religious freedom, but advocated the strengthening of the state through religious unity. However, he waives this principle in the present state of European affairs, distinguishing between those who foment public unrest and those who adhere privately to another religion. The former he wishes to see severely punished (ure, seca), so long as no revolt arises; if there is a risk of serious unrest, the ruler should compromise with the times and wait for a better opportunity. The latter, however, must on no account be punished or subjected to the Inquisition. (This passage was altered on demands from the Commission for the Index when the work was revised in Catholic Louvain.) Lipsius quotes Curtius:' No king can command hearts as he commands tongues'; and he adds: 'If wrong notes are heard from a stringed instrument, one does not destroy the instrument, but tunes the strings to make a better sound.' He thus thoroughly agrees with the ideas of the French humanists of the chancellor L'Hopital's circle and the tradition of the edicts of toleration for the Huguenots, but also with the religious policy of Prince William of Orange.8 In his teaching on political wisdom, chilis prudentia, Lipsius points to two things with which the ruler must be familiar: the people and governmental authority. The character of the people is briefly described and judged unfavourably. The masses are unstable, volatile, lacking in reason, apt to follow the majority, envious, suspicious and gullible. The rabble loves hotheads, has no respect for the common good, looks only to its own interests, and is immoderate in fortune and misfortune. Thus the government has a difficult task. But the other factor too, governmental authority, is always at risk and liable to instability, being subject not only to fortune, but also to hate and envy. Power-hunger and arrogance on the part of the rulers, no less than disobedience and rebelliousness on the part of the subjects, can rapidly lead to the overthrow of the government. Only if the ruler studies and continually heeds the character of the people, the power of his own rule and its nature, i.e. the basis of its external and internal policy, can he wring a measure of permanence from the natural instability of sovereignty. He must know about the psychology of politics and make use of it. A thorough discussion of political psychology accompanies what follows, under the heading praecepta. Lipsius now examines in greater detail the reasons for the rise and fall of governments. He considers power {vis), together with virtus, to be the essential positive fact of national life, defining it as a protection which the prince may use in order to defend and assert himself and his government 8

G. Giildner, Das Toleranz-Problem in den Niederlanden im Ausgang des i6.jfahrhunderts (Historische Studien 403), Liibeck 1968. Giildner gives a detailed account of the relations between Coornhert and Lipsius on pp. 65-158.

46

The main political work of Lipsius {praesidium quod princeps utiliter adhibet ad se tuendum aut regnum). If vis

and virtus act together, the government is secured; however, if vis and vitium combine, it is ruined. The protection {praesidium) is furnished by soldiers and fortifications. With 'political virtue' Lipsius introduces emotional values (affectus) into politics; these are comprehended rationally but judged morally. As trust and respect they have their seat in the hearts of the people. Respect or authority are won by the form of the government, by power (potentia) and the personal conduct of the ruler. Lipsius warns against over-eager innovators in government and shares the opinion of his contemporaries Bodin and Montaigne9 that laws and ordinances must not be changed unless there is a pressing need. Even then one should act calmly and not precipitately. He calls for the government to be directed by the prince in person. Again he ignores the estates: they simply do not exist for him. Lipsius' two opposing factors are the people and the government, not the country and the government. The shift in the meaning of the word imperium significantly reflects the shift in the centre of gravity from country to government. More and more it comes to denote the state as a community, while the country, the second component in the dualistic corporative state moves into the background and finally disappears from view. Lipsius' five sources of power are very real: money, arms, counsel, alliances and fortune. He criticizes neutrality, which only leads to difficulties and even ruin. He insists that the sovereign should always take sides. Here we have one of the principles of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century power politics: an active policy of alliance and active participation in international quarrels. The two chapters devoted to the political vices and hence to the fall of governments are very detailed. The very definition of vitium as pravum noxiumque imperio affectum de rege velin regem is exclusively political. Under

the heading of 'hatred' (odium) Lipsius treats torture (supplicia), taxes (tributa) and strict supervision (censura) of mores and luxus. Punishment must be carried out with deliberation and calm, taking the common good into account, without anger and without any feelings of joy or relief, with respect for the customs of the land, and with impartiality. The prince must not be seen as the punishment is executed. The ruler must try to convince his subjects that taxes are necessary. If he fails in this he must of course assert his right by compulsion. Taxes must be assessed moderately; no fresh imposts must be invented. Strict supervision of the tax-farmers and tax-administrators appears especially necessary, since there are many who are disloyal. The prince must take an interest in this himself, dealing quickly and severely with defrauders and 9

K. Griewank, Der neuzeitliche Revolutionsbegriff, Weimar 1955, 2nd. edn. Frankfurt am Main 1969.

47

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement squeezing them like a sponge. Careful, economical and useful spending of taxes is demanded, and equality in their imposition is recommended. Lipsius expresses great surprise that no one now considers tax-assessment important. Like Bodin he proposes a careful statistical survey, revised annually, and at the same time placed in the service of military defence (army personnel, army funds, army equipment). The tax-assessment should be carried out on a parish or town basis by commissioners appointed by the people. Lipsius also regards supervision of morals as necessary. He demands the reinstatement of censors who should watch over everything which is not directly required or forbidden by the laws. They should act against adultery, drunkenness, brawling, cursing and swearing; they should keep people working and put a stop to all extravagance. Quo telo? -'with what weapon ?' - asks Lipsius. Public disgrace and fines (ignominia and mulctae) should be used as deterrents, and good conduct encouraged by rewards. Again the prince should set a good example. He is warned not to try to achieve everything at once. In a masterly chapter on contemptus Lipsius analyses the psychological reasons for the overthrow of governments. The chief causes are excessively mild rule and lack of fortune; a particular instance of the latter is the ruler who is denied children. Other causes are immorality on the part of the ruler and defects due to nature, such as facial disfigurement, great age or incurable disease. Chapters 13 and 14 raise the troublesome question of prudentia mixta or 'reason of state'. Is it permissible to mix prudence with deception? Lipsius maintains that it is,' whatever a few Zenos may say to the contrary'. In other matters he is glad to yield to them, but in this he cannot, for we daily have dealings with people who are malicious and sly. They appear as lions, but underneath they are foxes. Lipsius mocks the political idealists, the 'angelic children'. He believes that deception must be used to counter deception if the common good requires it. If the end is good, the means are good too. Here Lipsius adopts the same attitude as his Jesuit teachers and the majority of his contemporaries. He stresses the fact that he is talking of mixing prudence and deception; he is not recommending a complete departure from what is honourable. In fact he condemns those who think that anything is just and honourable if it serves to maintain the government. What he wishes to recommend is a detour, not a false path. A ruler must have attributes of both the lion and the fox. He must act as time and occasion dictate (an unmistakably Machiavellian notion), whatever the greenhorns in the schools say to the contrary. Here Lipsius finally sides openly with Machiavelli, who today must 'let himself be whipped by every eager schoolboy'. 48

The main political work of Lipsius In his discussion of the doctrine of reason of state, Lipsius distinguishes three kinds of deception and subterfuge - the slight, the moderate and the serious. He recommends the first and tolerates the second, but the third he roundly condemns. Mistrust and dissimulation (diffidentia and dissimulatio) are assigned to the first category, bribery and deceit to the second; the latter are farther from virtue and closer to vice. A prince has to win over the advisers at other courts; this is now the most important art in foreign policy. In order to do this he must persuade them and gain their liking by means of gifts. In this way even positions in the enemy army can be built up. Indeed, in a few cases bribery extends as far as the 'holy and indissoluble marriage-bed'. If Lipsius regards suasiones and dona merely as a form of cunning which is 'very common among rulers today', he finds deceptio harder to reconcile with morality. Like Plato {Republic V), Lipsius thinks that deception is often necessary for the sake of the subjects. He of course concedes that there is a dilemma between religious ethics and immoral conduct for reasons of state, and he confesses: 'In truth I cannot free either them [i.e. the statesmen] or myself from the dilemma.' He sharply and unequivocally rejects disloyalty and injustice as serious deception. Admittedly, only a few approve of them openly, but more practise them in fact, intentionally misinterpreting compacts and alliances, acting contrary to law and justice, secretly or openly eliminating whoever stands in their way, and robbing the lands of others. Lipsius the Neostoic can find no excuse for such conduct. Disloyalty and injustice are not permitted even for the common good. Lipsius' ethics always have a realistic foundation and never degenerate into the banalities of unpractical moral philosophy. Lipsius concludes his discussion of prudentia civilis by examining three central questions. The first is political murder, which many excuse; the second is the removal of privileges from the subjects, which many approve for reasons of necessitas; the third is the taking of a province or town which is useful to the state, particularly if such a move forestalls another conqueror. Lipsius is opposed to all three, though he concedes that in ultima necessitate they might find forgiveness with God, but hardly with men. If the ruler does such things, it must only be in order to maintain his power, not to increase it. Lipsius quotes from Seneca, De dementia IX: Necessitas omnem legemfrangit. How often this maxim was quoted by princes and their ministers in the seventeenth century! The questions of political murder, the privileges of the estates, and aggression against conveniently situated countries raise moral and political problems which were of capital importance in the seventeenth century. At this point Lipsius leaves the sphere of the state as the institution of sovereignty and power. The work so far makes a conservative impression 49

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement on the whole. The proposals for change in the field of internal politics are inserted into the argument without any special emphasis, so that one hardly notices them. The prince should possess power and authority, and he should defend and maintain them, if possible, solely by means of his superior prudence and exemplary virtues. The sovereign becomes a superman, looked up to by all, who does not pursue a policy of conquest, but sees it as his chief task to preserve peace and tranquillity at home. This attitude was also taken by such contemporaries as Montaigne, Bodin, Ammirato, Botero and many others who were in favour of reason of state. Lipsius' consideration of legal reform also remains within the contemporary framework. Here we have, then, a 'mirror for princes' composed by a scholar with some training in politics, inspired by Roman Stoic ideals, uniquely versed in Latin literature, and observing a strict system of argument. This makes the different character of the fifth and sixth books all the more striking. These are devoted to external and civil war. With great force, seriousness and commitment the Leiden professor calls for a reform of the whole military system. He apologizes for the fact that he, as an amateur, should presume to write on the subject, but he feels that he has been amply prepared by 'historians as the real teachers of warfare'. He will have many matters to treat, more of them being concerned with what is useful and necessary than with what is present practice. Lipsius performs two great services for the military: he gives it a comprehensive concept of discipline which can serve as a basis for reform, and he sets up the Roman Stoic ethic as the morality and ideology of the new army.10 Of course, there had been, before Lipsius, an abundance of writings on military reform by authors of the stature of Machiavelli, Lazarus von Schwendi, Petrus Ramus and de la Noue, but it was only Lipsius who, borrowing from this or that writer, had the good fortune to find, in Maurice of Orange and his cousins John and William Louis, the energetic reformers who, with the Dutch army at war with Spain, would give an impressive testimonial to the Tightness of his proposals.11 By this reform the army ceased to be an insecure and temporary institution and became a permanent organ of the state. The institution of a standing army and its incorporation into the activities of the state was what first created the early modern state with its concentration of power at the centre. 10

1!

Like de la Noue and nearly all sixteenth-century writers on army reform who want to improve discipline by bringing the armies under state control, Lipsius advocates training native troops for war-service. The ideas inspiring the modern European military system were first found in sixteenth-century France. Lipsius played a decisive role. A discussion of modern militarism is fruitless without an account of the history of the relevant ideology. The political and military treatise was composed with the approval of the States General, though perhaps not at their suggestion. When the work appeared, Lipsius received from them a handsome sum of money. 50

The main political work of Lipsius Lipsius distinguishes between external and internal war and carefully examines the question of just and unjust wars. For a just war there must be a just initiator, a just cause and a just objective. Only the sovereign or those who represent him in the community are permitted to start a war. For rational, natural reasons and according to the custom of all nations a just cause always means repulsion of force (vim vi repellere). An alliance obliges a ruler to give aid, but he is also obliged, for the sake of human society in general, to go to the aid of those who are oppressed by tyranny. A prince is also justified in waging war to reconquer lands and populations that have been robbed from him by illegitimate force. Furthermore, it is permitted to fight against barbarians and the enemies of Christianity, especially if they have become too powerful and attacked others (a clear reference to the Turkish threat). These propositions contain the doctrine that wars which are justified in their origin (bella justa) are also allowed by international law. This idea is developed later*by Grotius.12 The sole object of war is peace. Lipsius warns against the principal causes of war: ambition, power-hunger and acquisitiveness; to these he adds anger and vengefulness. It is easy to begin a war, but difficult to end it, because the power to end it is no longer in one's own hands. The ruler must consider all the circumstances carefully, not only his own power; he must also reckon with the power of fortune. He must drive warmongers from his court with the words of Pindar: helium dulce ignotis. When the Christian humanist Erasmus wrote his Adagium on the subject, the result was a pacifist tract directed against the power of the state; despite the shared quotation, Erasmus's thesis is very different from that of the Neostoic humanist Lipsius. After imploring all rulers never to give anyone cause to wage war, Lipsius goes on to consider the financial, material, personal and spiritual prerequisites for warfare. There must be a guaranteed supply of money, provisions and equipment. For a full campaign infantry is more important than cavalry, and also easier to procure. Of both it is true to say that it is better to fight with a small number of good soldiers than with a large number of poor soldiers. This necessitates strict selection (dilectus) and good discipline (disciplina). Despairing over the present state of military discipline, the Leiden professor attempts to work out principles for a future regular army. He pronounces against the universal practice of recruiting foreign troops and in favour of selecting soldiers from the native population. 12

Grotius often expressed his respect for Lipsius, in print and in his letters. We cannot therefore rule out direct influence. F. Lammert, 'Heinrich Rantzau und sein Kriegsbuch', Nordelbingen. Beitrdge zur Heimatforschung in Schleswig-Holstein 14 (1938) 302-34, is reminded by Rantzau's

imitation of Lipsius in his Commentarius Bellicus of 1595 (N.B. before Grotius) of Grotius's De jure belli ac pads of 1625. M. Pohlenz, Die Stoa> vol. 11, Gottingen 1949, p. 229, cites several important passages indicating a close connection between Grotius and Stoicism. 51

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement He gives detailed reasons for this view. Foreigners are often disloyal, recalcitrant, disobedient and mutinous, ruining the country for which they are supposed to be fighting. None of this applies to native troops. Admittedly, foreign soldiers will still be needed, but they must only be used to help out. Lipsius distinguishes, among the selected troops of the national army, between the regular soldiers who make-up the standing army and reservists. The miles perpetuus is a professional soldier engaged for life {totogenere vitae miles). The standing army must not be too big, and for reasons of finance and security it must be quartered in more than one place. Lipsius suggests the following military strengths: a medium-sized state should support one legion of 6,000 foot and 1,200 horse, a large state two legions. Beside the small number of professional soldiers there should be permanent trained reserve. In case of war they will be used partly to reinforce the troops of the line {in acie) and partly as garrisons of the fortresses at home {praesidia oppidorum). In peacetime the subsidiarii will pursue their own trades. Trained in the use of weapons from their youth, they will be as useful as foreign mercenaries, if not more so. Recruitment and selection for both parts of the army is to take place in the country, not in the towns. Lipsius justifies this on grounds of security; he does not mention the importance of trade as a reason, though this is what accounted for the fact that in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the peasants had to bear the main burden of recruitment. Altogether this is a well-considered plan for dividing the army into troops of the line and territorials, a principle which was adopted in later army organization. Lipsius goes into a number of details, such as the criteria of selection: these include annual medical and psychological examinations and rule out the engagement of serfs, men with criminal records, men of bad character, etc. It is a model which was not realized for centuries, and yet at the time was not Utopian. A particular concern of Lipsius is the restoration of discipline in the armies of his time. He wants discipline to be created and safeguarded by frequent drill, strict regulations, self-control and obedience, rewards and punishments. Stoic ethics should underlie military training too. In an important passage Lipsius quotes the saying of Cicero that military virtue is superior to all others. Without discipline there is no point in having even the best selection of the laborosi, duriy probiyfati sui securi and gloriae avidi among the prince's subjects. Yet at present discipline is not just poor or feeble - it is non-existent. For this reason Lipsius wants to disinter true discipline from classical military science, especially Roman. He defines it as severa confirmatio militis ad robur et virtutem. For closer consideration he divides the concept into four elements: exercitium, ordo, coerctio et 52

The main political work of Lipsius exempla. While exercise and order promote strength, severity leads to courage and toughness, while rewards and punishments produce both. The new military discipline is designed to lead to Machiavelli's virtu ordinata, to the outward and inward strength of the army and the physical and moral toughening of the individual. The concept of discipline was discussed during the sixteenth century in much narrower terms. Lipsius broadened and strengthened it by adding the first two elements, exercise and order. Discipline was a central issue of the times in political, secular and church life. All the civil and church ordinances which proliferated at the end of the sixteenth century centre upon the establishment of discipline. The articles of war too, which lay down rules for military life and are closely related to the civil and ecclesiastical ordinances, are directed chiefly against cursing, swearing, drinking, gormandizing and whoring.13 Daily weapon-practice, marching and the digging of fortifications keep the soldiers from idleness, which is the beginning of all vices. Here we have a justification for a lasting feature of the modern army, namely systematic exercise or drill. By ordo Lipsius means not only the strict military hierarchy on the Roman model, but order of march, order of battle and order of camp. All these innovations were put into practice by the reformers and produced a revolution in military organization and tactics which had important consequences for the internal structure of armies everywhere. They have hitherto been regarded as the essential parts of the Dutch army reform. Lipsius, however, had in mind a higher aim, which transcended the purely military programme. This was the moral regeneration of the rude soldiery on the basis of a new ethos. This is evinced by the third element in his concept of discipline, coerctio or self-discipline, without which there is no lasting obedience among the troops. This must restrain the licence and unruliness of the soldiers. Coerctio, which leads to virtus, Lipsius interprets with the help of the basic concepts of the Roman Stoa - continentia, modestia, abstinentia,

'self-control', 'moderation', 'abstinence'. It is thus a Stoic virtue given an active form. Neostoicism is addressed to the man of action; it is of his virtues and vices, strengths and weaknesses, excellences and shortcomings, that Lipsius speaks. These virtues are not the pale phantoms they become in the Age of Enlightenment a century later, but full-blooded, powerful and essential values designed for the exuberant and undisciplined mercenaries of the time. The art of living, which was always the first and foremost concern of the Greek and Roman Stoa, is carried over from the 13

W. Erben, Ursprung und Entwicklung der deutschen Kriegsartikel (Mitteilungen des Instituts fur osterreichische Geschichtsforschung, Erganzungsband vi), 1901. This fundamental investigation pays no attention to this connection with the universal conditions of the times.

53

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement vita civilis to the vita militaris. There had been previous attempts, by means of iron discipline, to remedy the grievous harm caused by the army of Landsknechte\ by 'iron discipline' were meant punishments of the harshest, severest and cruellest kind. Lipsius was the first to go beyond this narrow concept of discipline by complementing it with exercise, order and self-discipline. Obedience and silence also come under the Stoic virtue of modestia: Parentia decet militem. Non inquisitio aut retractatio. The soldier must do what he is ordered to do. Obedience is seen as decorum, as something which becomes the soldier, and this is in keeping with Cicero's teaching about duty, though here applied to a military quality. This makes obedience not simply a requirement of all military discipline: it is something that befits a man, a virtue. Lipsius had been a pupil of the Jesuits in Cologne and had originally wanted to join the order, which is so often admired for its military structure. It is striking that he should have taken the two basic elements of that structure, exercitia and constitutiones, and, giving them pride of place, incorporated them, as exercitia and ordo, into the classical concept of military discipline. Later, as professor at Louvain and a Catholic once more, he unambiguously calls, in the Militia Romana, for the master of military exercises and the daily meditations on arms: Ubi campidoctores nostri sunt? ubi cottidianae meditationes armorum?14 The methodical ideas of Loyola the soldier thus find their way into the modern army. Daily exercise and hierarchic organization, blind obedience and strict discipline determine the spirit of military life as it was revived by Lipsius; its models were provided by the Jesuit champion of the ecclesia militans and by the Roman legions. This link between civil, military and ecclesiastical life has scarcely been noticed, but from the standpoint of religious and intellectual history it is quite remarkable. Lipsius quotes Seneca's remark that part of virtue is in the teaching and part in its exercise. One must learn, and what one has learned one must consolidate by action. Again and again he refers to the model of ancient Rome, and the exempla for his concept of discipline in particular, the military rewards and punishments, are amply illustrated from Roman practice. To punish misdeeds Lipsius considers the greatest severity appropriate and any leniency harmful; on the other hand, promotion and honours for bravery and good conduct should be used as positive incentives. Here Lipsius concurs with Bodin's judgment of rewards and with the principles of Jesuit education, which endeavours to spur on the pupil by a system of prizes rather than to impose obedience and devotion to the rules of the order by using the rod. 14

De Militia romana (lib. v, dialog. 20). T h e word campidoctores was at the time rendered literally as Exerzitienmeister, even as late as Joh. Tobias Wagner, Entwurff einer Soldaten-Bibliothec, Leipzig 1724, p. 210.

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The main political work of Lipsius The revival of the Roman Stoic tradition culminates in the description of the military commander. The Netherlander calls for five principal attributes in the army leader: scientia, virtus, providentia, auctoritas and fortuna,15 and with Cicero he regards labor in negotio,fortitudo in periculo, industria in agendo and celeritas in conficiendo as virtues of both body and spirit. With these he links virtues of temperament, again understood according to Stoic precepts: innocentia, temperantia,fides,facilitas and humanitas. Thus Lipsius revives the classical picture of the ideal commander. He should carry the lance at the head of his men and share in all their tribulations. He should set an example and not simply issue orders. The ideal commander is tireless in making his dispositions, controlled in danger, wise and swift in execution, blameless ajid irreproachable, moderate in all things, of proven loyalty and faith, favoured by fortune, and amiable towards everyone. Now Lipsius considers the intellectual preparations for war. There is a detailed discussion of tactics and strategy as seen from a political point of view, and recommendations for the waging of war: the army should go into battle only after mature consideration, in other words rarely; strong reserves should be available; military stratagems must keep within the law. Finally, the conditions for an honourable and lasting peace, in victory and defeat, are enumerated: it must be acceptable all round and must not involve cunning or deceit. The last book deals with civil war and examines its causes, which may lie in the existence of factions among the nobility, in popular rebellion with its calls for freedom (which are often mendacious), or in tyranny. Under the heading of tyranny the proud professor lists violence, lawlessness and injustice, and then continues:' Tyranny hates and fears good and respected people, and also learned men; it is hostile to writers and their writings and wrongly does away with them.' Yet he appeals to all subjects to be obedient and patient at all times, even towards tyrannical rulers. Probably no one has appealed more strongly for obedience to authority than this Neostoic philosopher, who describes so vividly the terrors of anarchy. He rejects tyrannicide just as categorically as any resistance to the power of the state. The theory was clearly moulded by his experience of the age. The Netherlander is far removed from the doctrines of the Calvinist or Jesuit monarchomachs. People of rank must take office in a civil war, for 'how can they answer for having stood at the helm in times of peace and surrendering it in times of trouble?' The private citizen, however, must take no part in the civil war. Nevertheless, he too must side in his heart with the good cause. 15

In the remainder of the text he speaks of /elicitas, not fortuna.

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Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement The sixth book, and so the whole work, closes with the ending of civil war, preferably by treaty, or, if not, by victory. Here too there is an emphatic reminder that moderation is the condition for a lasting peace. It is astonishing to note how little attention Lipsius pays to the reasons for civil wars, how reticent he is about the real political issues of the age, the religious causes of the civil wars and the conflict between princes and estates, nobility and burghers. The sixth book is striking for its relative brevity and insipidity. Lipsius associates himself with the attitude of Titus Atticus, who did not involve himself in the civil wars: 'Truly a man after my own heart.5

Political Neostoicism No attention has hitherto been paid - either in the general history of ideas1 or in studies relating to the intellectual foundations of the modern state2 - to the significance and influence of Neostoicism. Interest has centred mainly upon the controversial figure of Machiavelli, his work, his disciples and his opponents. Meanwhile, one important voice has been ignored, yet it was a voice that was able to make itself heard - and heeded - in the period of incipient absolutism, and again in the age of enlightened despotism. True, the Stoic philosophy has been invoked here and there,3 but only recently has the principal political work of Neostoicism, the Politics of Justus Lipsius, been fully analysed.4 This is all the more astonishing in view of the rapid, wide and enduring popularity the book achieved.5 Just before it was published, Bodin's work appeared, in 1576; shortly after, in 1603, that of Althusius. Yet these two achieved only a fraction of the influence destined for Lipsius' work. Of the Latin original there were fifteen editions in the first ten years, from 1589 to 1599. In the same period it was rendered into Dutch, French, English, Polish and German. Spanish and Italian 1

2

3

4

5

Cf. ch. I, n. 5. P. Mesnard, Uessor de la philosophie politique au XVIe siecle, Paris 1936, repr. 1952, includes Lipsius' Politics in a synoptic table but does not mention him in his text. J. Touchard, Histoire des idees politiques, vol. 1, Paris 1959, p. 312, refers to my work, but in line with the older literature he credits Lipsius with * le caractere oratoire et vague de l'humanisme des generations precedentes'. The first modern reprint of texts by Lipsius is to be found in G. Mobus, Die politischen Theorien im Zeitalter der absoluten Monarchic bis zur Franzosischen Revolution. Cologne 1961, pp. 261-9. On pp. 66-77 there is a brief evaluation of the Politics, based on my dissertation (which is not cited). I use the term first in the same sense as O. Hintze, ' Wesen und Wandlung des modernen Staats', in: Gesatnmelte Abhandlungen 1, Staat und Verfassung, 3rd edn., Gottingen 1970, p. 4766°. In future it will not be permissible to equate the French concept of the absolute sovereign state with the Dutch. According to W. Dilthey, the Stoic philosophy of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was interpreted as the essential basis of enlightened despotism by P. Klassen, Die Grundlagen des aufgekldrten Absolutisntus (List-Studien, Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Staatswissenschaft 4), Jena 1929. However, he was unaware of the historico-political element in Neostoicism and its Dutch origin. E. Amiel, Un publiciste du XVF siecle: Juste Lipsey Paris 1884 gives the best summary of the Politics so far (op. cit. pp. 134-328), but does not consider the Stoic basis. V. Beonio-Brocchieri, 'L'individuo, il diritto e lo stato nella filosofia politica di Giusto Lipsio', Saggi critici di storia delle dottrine politiche, Bologna 1931, pp. 31-93, treats only some of the problems. Cf. Bibliographie lipsienne. A number of impressions and editions not listed in this work have come to my attention.

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Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement translations followed in 1604, a Hungarian in 1641. Up to the start of the Thirty Years War a new edition left the press almost every year. The seventeenth century saw thirty-one editions of the original, the eighteenth another seven, the last one appearing in Vienna in 1751. If we include translations, there were ninety-six editions in all. Like the earlier Constantiay it was an international best-seller.6 And this is without taking account of the many excerpts and borrowings, acknowledged and unacknowledged. In France the Netherlander's Civilis doctrina met with such a response that the French translation of it was issued ten times during the reign of Henry IV alone,7 This put Lipsius on a par with Bodin. Thanks to the figures kept by Plantin, Lipsius' publisher in Leiden, we know the size of the editions-on average 1,500 copies. Of his second, shorter political work, the Monita et exempla of 1605, between ten and eleven thousand copies were printed within the first two years, if we include the French translation. It was read by the educated classes throughout Europe. The first Neostoic work on the theory of the state called forth numerous - and soon innumerable - books directly or indirectly inspired by it. The science of military and civil regulations for war and peace came to be widely studied in the original classical works, in the countless collections of maxims, or in accounts which drew upon the originals. The most important result was the work of Hugo Grotius, the second great Netherlander, in natural and international law. This work was based on Spanish writings on military and international law. Grotius' fame was destined to outshine and, in the end, to outlast that of Lipsius. He transformed the earlier scholar's moderating and limiting proposals on military law into more effective legal formulas and tried to make the voice of reason more clearly heard, not only in dealings between nations in peace and war, but also in the internal life of the state. Grotius propagated the idea that law was rooted in the rational nature of man, and that power must always be complemented by law. His ideas on natural and international law soon found their way into all social and constitutional theories and had a practical effect in humanizing military law and penal practice. Finally, the efflorescence of cameralist doctrine on national administration brought a further systemization of what Lipsius and his imitators had begun with their descriptions of Roman administration and finance. How was it that Justus Lipsius' six books on politics could have such 6

7

By contrast, there were seventeen impressions of Bodin's Six livres de la republique from 1576 to 1753, n m e of the Latin version from 1586 to 1650, as well as translations into Italian, German and English. Althusius' Politica methodice digesta was issued eight times from 1603 to 1654; there were no translations. E. Hinrichs, Fiirstenlehre und politisches Handeln im Frankreich Heinrichs IV. Untersuchungen tiber die politischen Denk- und Handlungsformen im Spdthumanismus, Gottingen 1969.

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Political Neostoicism 2L lasting effect and so rapidly become popular throughout Europe ? Lipsius read the signs of the times correctly. He dedicated his work of political instruction to 'the Emperor, the kings and the princes of Europe'. The pretension implicit in this dedication was to prove entirely successful. In an extraordinary manner he succeeded in training and educating the princes and their advisers. His work was used as a textbook on practical politics at the courts and universities of Europe; tutors and professors devoted their lives to applying, interpreting and elaborating his political teachings. He was the dominant influence in the teaching of history and politics at many universities. His contemporaries were captivated not only by his mastery of language, the much-imitated Lipsian style, but by his presentation, his attempt to draw together the wisdom of the ancient world in maxims culled from the historians, philosophers and poets. This was what the late Renaissance and Baroque periods most admired - a treasury of aphorisms which for over a hundred years were to be regarded by many as the communis opinio in politicis. This view was later reversed. The art of the quotation, which to us seems strange and even eccentric, developed partly from practical considerations: none of the gold of classical wisdom must be lost, not a drop must be spilled by pouring it into the mould of a modern language. For a hundred years the form of the work has led to one misjudgment after another, and even for us the work is not easy of access. The first to belittle the Politicorum libri sex was Robert von Mohl, in 1858. As a positivist, Mohl had no sympathy with Stoic philosophy. He wrote: 'In its time the book enjoyed a reputation which is quite incomprehensible to us today; there were frequent reprintings, translations and commentaries on it. Yet it is impossible to imagine a more miserable school exercise.'8 Literary history knows Justus Lipsius only as a great humanist, a brilliant philologist and a systematizer of Neostoic philosophy. True, he was a philologist first and foremost, but in the broad sense appropriate to the age. As a Latinist and textual critic he made outstanding, even unique, contributions with his editions of the classics. As the leading figure of the Netherlands school of philology he has a high place in the history of learning to this day. This is his present claim to fame. But it is only when one sees Lipsius as an all-round scholar, as the author of interesting and unusually influential text books in several disciplines, and as the editor, almost the re-creator, of Tacitus and Seneca, that one can do full justice to his achievements. These aspects of his work are little known and little studied. With his famous editions of Tacitus, Valerius Maximus, Velleius Paterculus and Seneca he provided his age with sound texts on the basis of which 8

R. von Mohl, Geschichte und Literatur der Staatswissenschaften in, Erlangen 1858, p. 383^

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Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement classical historiography and the history of philosophy could be studied. Moreover, his commentary on Tacitus and his two accounts of Stoic philosophy furnished political history and systematic philosophy with an invaluable groundwork which was built upon well into the eighteenth century. Leibniz still refers to Lipsius' accounts in his Theodicee. His writings and his new style influenced rhetoric and stimulated education for over seventy-five years. He was the leading figure in contemporary moral philosophy. He wrote a manual on government and statecraft which was the most widely read in the seventeenth century, and he contributed two large and fundamental works to military science. It is not possible to evaluate here, or even to name, all the works of Lipsius, so great was the output of this industrious, prolific and ambitious scholar. The bibliography of his works alone runs to three volumes - and it is incomplete. The editions of his collected works present an astonishingly massive and daunting corpus, and even these do not contain everything he wrote. A recent inventory of his correspondence9 lists 4,300 letters written or received by him, and more than half have never been published. Those which are known indicate how voluminous, intense and detailed his scholarly communications were, filled with advice on matters of morality and education. Learned correspondence was the contemporary equivalent of today's periodical articles. His seven hundred correspondents represent almost the whole learned world of Europe. We may cite some of the more illustrious names as examples. There were the Frenchmen Isaac Casaubon, Marc-Antoine Muret, Francois Pithou, Michel de Montaigne, Henri Estienne, JacquesAuguste de Thou, Joseph-Justus Scaliger, Adrien Turnebe and Jean Duvergier de Hauranne; the Englishmen William Camden and Philip Sidney; the Scot William Barclay, who lived in Paris; the Italians Cesare Baronio, Ascanio Colonna, Ottavio Frangipani, Roberto Bellarmino, Frederico Borromeo, Paolo Manutio, Fulvio Orsini, Gabriele Paleotti and Antonio Possevino, the Germans Joachim and Ludwig Camerarius, Marquard Freher, Heinrich Rantzau, Hugo Blotius, Caspar Scioppius and Marcus Welser; the Spaniards Benito Arias Montano, Alphonso Chacon, Antonio Covarrubias and Quevedo; and the Netherlanders Jan Dousa, Cornelis Aerssens, H. L. Spiegel, Philip Marnix de St Aldegonde, Abraham Ortelius, Carl Clusius, Hugo Grotius and Christoph Plantin.l ° 9

10

A. Gerlo and H. D. V. Vervliet, Inventaire de la correspondance de Juste Lipse, 1564-1606, Antwerp 1968. The alphabetical index of the Inventaire provides a synopsis. A selection, mainly from the Louvain period, is given in J. Hescher, 'Justus Lipsius, ein Vertreter des christlichen Humanismus in der katholischen Erneuerungsbewegung des 16. Jahrhunderts', Jahrbuchfur das Bistum Mainz 6 (1954) 21 iff. Hescher names ten well-known Jesuits.

60

Political Neostoicism Lipsius' aims as a university teacher, as an author, and as a letter-writer were above all practical. As a professor at the age of twenty-five he commended Tacitus for the instruction he gave by means of examples which could be usefully applied to the present day. This was of course a common approach to the ancient world, but Lipsius became increasingly eager to prove himself an effective figure in his own day. Later he seems never to have written a single line that was not designed to influence the actions of his contemporaries and posterity, and to educate them according to the patterns set by the ancients. This has been demonstrated by Nordman with regard to the historical writings, and by Steuer with regard to the philosophical works.11 In his dedications and prefaces he never tired of emphasizing this intention. History was for him the experience of the nations, experience which must be made to bear fruit for the governing of the state and the making of political decisions. In the dedication of his commentary on Tacitus he announces one of the themes of his political work: Prudentia enim certe est, quae respublicas constituit, servat, auget, ea autem ab eventu rerum: et eventus non nisi ab historia, aut ab usu. History and experience, then, are the foundations of political science. Lipsius had adopted, like Machiavelli and Muret before him - or inspired by them - Polybius' notion of the similitudo temporum, the idea that certain ages are similar to certain others; this led him to see imperial Rome as a 'simile' of his own age. This he expresses clearly in his commentary on Tacitus: velut theatrum hodiernae vitae, 'a theatrical representation of the life of today, as it were'. And indeed, amid religious and civil wars and under the harsh despotism of Philip II, Tacitus' accounts of the rebellions, the expulsion of the tyrants and the struggle for freedom in first-century Rome must have seemed strikingly topical. The impressive rhetoric of Tacitus' maxims, those 'concentrated, steely formulations' as they have been called, were intended, when they were written, not only to convince, but to persuade. His works give an account of events he had lived through; they were read and understood by contemporaries as contemporary history. Thus Roman history and its greatest exponent became the one great experience of Lipsius the scholar. He was enthralled by Tacitus, who supplied him with the unique opportunity to study the nature of politics and the splendid administration of the Roman state, and to find multa exempla temporum nostrorum. In all his works on material culture, in the Tractatus ad historiam Romanam cognoscendam apprime utiles of 1592 and in the later cultural history Admitanda sive de magnitudine Romana, Lipsius emphasized the practical value of history. He placed himself in the ancient tradition of Thucydides, Polybius and Tacitus, and the modern tradition 11

V. A. Nordman, Justus Lipsius als Geschichtsforscher und Geschichtslehrer, Helsinki 1932, p. 486°.; A. Steuer, Die Philosophic des Justus Lipsius (diss.), Miinster 1901, p. 36°. 6l

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement of Philipe de Commines and Guicciardini. He also in some respects took up the thread of Bodin's Methodus adfacilem historiarum cognitionem.12 In a letter he resists the idea of simply listing events: he wishes to examine the causes, to fathom the reasons behind men's decisions - to ask, in short, about the why and the wherefore and link this procedure with the practical pedagogic purpose he had in view. As an academic teacher Lipsius was a thoroughly political historian and educator, especially during the years in Leiden. No doubt this was the reason why his lectures were unusually well attended. He corresponded with many professors of history at German universities, and in his later years in Leiden he became passionately involved in politics. In the Lettres inedites de Juste Lipse, concernant ses relations avec les hommes d^etat there

is a highly interesting political correspondence with Cornelis Aerssens, the secretary of the States General, which shows him to have been astute and well versed in political affairs.13 He also conducted private correspondence with Oldenbarneveldt and other Netherlands statesmen. It was through Aerssens that in August 1589 Lipsius presented his former pupil Maurice of Orange with a copy of the recently published Politics, which was to be of such significance for the army reform.14 Hardly anyone has ever borrowed so deliberately and so extensively from history in order to illustrate his own works. In his favourite areas of study, the history of government, administration, finance, warfare and architecture, he provided his works with pictorial illustrations. He probably led the way here too. Nordman15 surmises that the educationalist Amos Comenius was inspired by Lipsius to imitate this use of pictures. Lipsius' writings gave a powerful impetus to the study of history and politics and influenced a large mass of literature in these areas. Among the publicists of the time a well-known group was made up of students of Tacitus.16 Historiography and political theory have always been intimately linked. Notable representatives of political science are historians, often official historians. Thus we find Lipsius later acting as Philip IPs historiographer. Heinsius performed the same function for Gustavus Adolphus, Grotius and Vossius for the States General, and, at the end of the century, Pufendorf was historian to the King of Sweden and the Elector of Brandenburg. 12

13 14

15 16

Nordman draws attention to Lipsius' dependence on Bodin. He also states (p. 61) that Lipsius does not mention Bodin in his writings and letters; this is not true, v. Opera onmia v, 1637, p. 684d, 775 c et passim. Amsterdam 1858, p. 14. F. Lammert, 'Die Antike in der Heeresreform der Oranier', Nassauische Annalen 65 (1954) 2466°. On Prince Maurice's immediate reaction after reading the Politics, cf. Delprat, p. 12. Cf. n. 11. The following recent works on this topic should be consulted: J. von Stackelberg, Tacitus in der Romania. Studien zur literarischen Rezeption des Tacitus in Italien und Frankreich, Tubingen i960; E.-L. Etter, Tacitus in der Geistesgeschichte des 16. und IJ. Jahrhunderts, Basle/Stuttgart 1966.

62

Political Neostoicism A man like Lipsius, who always wanted to keep himself above the contending factions and who was personally very sensitive and fearful, could not fail to encounter opposition and resistance prompted by the topical and practical - and therefore political - character of his writings. His Constantia has already brought attacks from Dutch reformed theologians, and after he published the Politics he found an opponent in the person of Dirck Volckertszoon Coornhert, who attacked him fiercely in publications and letters.17 He claimed that Lipsius' views did not correspond to those of the Netherlands, but to those of the Pope and the King of Spain. This was bound to alarm Lipsius, who had once been a Catholic. Coornhert, a theologian, had aided the Dutch rebellion in political positions and, like Lipsius, had led a turbulent life during the troubles: fleeing into exile, returning, fleeing again, and being imprisoned and persecuted by Catholics and Calvinists because, in collaboration with William of Orange, he advocated absolute toleration. Coornhert and Lipsius both thought it necessary to separate the state and religion; Lipsius, however, wanted to shield his prince from the influence of the theologians, whereas Coornhert wanted to shield religion from all interference by secular authority. Lipsius saw the solution of the contemporary crisis in the establishment of a strong, independent state bound by ethical principles, while Coornhert, who had been occupied by theological questions all his life and had personal experience of Philip IPs religious policy, believed religious toleration to be the guarantee of peaceful co-existence among men. Both misunderstood each other entirely. An intermediary tried to convince Coornhert that Lipsius wanted rebellious heretics to be punished for rebellion, not for heresy, but in spite of having many arguments in common, neither could follow the other's thinking. Despite all the protective edicts of the states of Holland and the magistrature of Leiden, Lipsius felt anxious and threatened. He left the university, and the Netherlands, made his peace with the Catholic Church through the mediation of the Jesuits in Cologne, assured himself of Philip IPs favour, and went as professor to Louvain. At this time the southern Netherlands were, according to his philosophy, a politically peaceful region with only one religion, while the North seemed bound, because of its divisions, to move more and more towards political insecurity. Lipsius' fame at that time may be measured by the number of flattering invitations he received to take up professorships elsewhere. Henry IV of France, Pope Clement VIII, the Duke of Bavaria, the Dukes of Florence and Urbino, Duke Ferdinand of Tuscany, the Venetian Republic, the Elector of Cologne, and the Bishops of Wiirzburg, Salzburg and Breslau vied with each other to attract the great humanist. 17

See G. Giildner, Das Toleranzproblem in den Niederlanden im Ausgang des 16. Jahrhunderts, Liibeck/Hamburg 1968.

63

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement In Louvain Lipsius went on working as before. He revised his Politics, which had been placed on the Index because of a few passages, in a manner satisfactory to the Catholics. These adaptations now allowed it to be read and interpreted by both confessions. They amount only to insignificant formal changes, for the supra-confessional spirit of the work leaves us in no doubt that the author's sole interest was not of a religious, but of a moral and political nature. He recast the first two books of the Politics as a collection of examples, Monita et exempla politica. Libri duo, qui virtutes et vitia principum spectant (1605), dedicated to the Spanish stadhouder, Archduke Albert. This work too, as has already been said, sold a large number of copies. For the military reforms, which had been under way in the northern Netherlands since 1590, Lipsius prepared a three-volume work under the title Fax historica. While he was in Louvain two parts of it appeared, a commentary on Polybius called De militia Romana (1595-6), a work on army organization, hand-weapons and tactics, and Poliorceticon (1596), a study of military technique and fortifications. At the end of his life Lipsius produced another systematic account of Stoic philosophy in two books, Manuductio ad Stoicam philosophiam and Physiologiae Stoicorum libri tres, which attempted to demonstrate that there was agreement between Christianity and Stoicism. These became the two main scholarly works on the subject in the seventeenth century. Finally, in 1605 he edited Opera Omnia Philosophi Senecae. When he died in 1606, Lipsius was recognized by both sides of divided western Christendom as the great moral philosopher and the founder of an historico-political science which could rise above the factional conflict and was for a time to dominate political education. The Jesuits saw to it that the works of their renowned scholar were not forgotten, and the Protestants in Leiden brought out a memorial in 1607 entitled Epicedia in obitum clarissimi et summi virijfusti Lipsii and containing the names of such luminaries of the university as J. Scaliger, D. Baudius and D. Heinsius, together with H. Grotius and P. Scriverius. The notion, current in Germany, that the University of Leiden was a special bulwark of Calvinism is given the lie by this memorial. Dutch scholars have often stressed the mixed character of the Netherlands universities and the divergence between humanism and Calvinism.18 The disciplines of practical philosophy, history and rhetoric were practised outside the faculty of theology, which was the 'faithful guardian' of dogmatic purity. In the conflict with the professor and preacher Lambertus Danaeus, who wanted to introduce the strict Genevan regime into the town and the university, even the 18

G. H. M. Delprat, Lettres inedites, p. 10, drew attention to this and named six of Lipsius' colleagues in Leiden who were not thorough-going Calvinists. Since then the confessional symbiosis has been documented by Brugmans, Pieter Geyl and Johan Huizinga.

64

Political Neostoicism burgomaster himself and the moderate theologians collaborated with Lipsius in 1582 to get rid of the zealot after a brief experience of his ways. There is still no authoritative biography of Lipsius, nor can one yet be written, as has recently been shown by Alois Gerlo, the foremost expert on his life and letters. The basis of a biography would be the complete letters, correctly edited. However, it will require decades of work to complete the corpus ofjfusti Lipsii Epistolae. What may emerge from it for the biographer is vividly illustrated by Gerlo's recent study, Tekstkritische Bijdrage tot de levensbeschrijving van Justus Lipsius.19 Gerlo shows how Lipsius changed - indeed falsified - his published letters to meet the present or future situation. One sees this especially clearly in the alterations he made to letters written in 1586, when he was seriously intending to leave Leiden. Without the total correspondence, correctly edited, any attempts to write a life of this complex personality will in a number of respects start from false premises.20 Immediately after his works were published they were immensely popular, and even after his death his influence continued undiminished. His name crops up time and again in a flood of writings related in content or orientation, and the size of the editions is impressive. Even if this seems an ample measure of his importance, it is still inadvisable to detach a scholar from his surroundings, the circle of his contemporaries and the life he led, and to enquire simply about the influence of his scholarship. Yet in order to describe precisely a historical trend which is in any case elusive, an investigator must make use of a prominent point de repere, unless he is prepared to run the risk of becoming hopelessly caught up in the undergrowth of publications and persons, with their mutual connections and influences. Lipsius is such a point of reference within the broad current of philosophical and historico-political Neostoicism. To this movement belonged not only the great man's associates, pupils, imitators and followers, but also his opponents, their pupils and their schools, as well as his forerunners and those who inspired his ideas. Lipsius had an instinct for what was topical and in demand. With an ingenious flair he took up the popular trends of the time - the growing respect for Seneca and the increasing emphasis on the historico-political aspects of ancient and contemporary history. His works were not always original, but they were written in such a manner as to be immediately understood by his contemporaries. Lipsius was the fashion, and he was driven by his ambition to remain so. The ship of life, of which he often spoke, had transported him to the 19

20

Mededelingen van de Kon. Acad. voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en schone Kunsten van Belgie\ Kl. d. L. J. xxxix, 1977. In a different way his autobiographical letter of October 1600 proves misleading. Cf. G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates, Berlin 1969, pp. 80-100.

65

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement best place imaginable for acquiring fame and influence. From the last decade of the sixteenth century onwards, the universities of the Netherlands, led by Leiden, were in the van of academic life. The ambitious youth of all countries went there to study. None of the old Italian, French or Spanish universities - Bologna, Paris or Salamanca - could rival the new academies of Holland in influence or the quality of their teaching. Holland was the educational centre of Europe and the reloading point of classical learning destined for practical application. It was from here that the great publishing houses, foremost among them those of Plantin-Moretus and Elzevier, exported intellectual goods to the rest of the world. They had their own trading-posts and depots in the capitals of Europe. Yet Holland, in the first half of the seventeenth century, became not only intellectually, but economically and militarily, the leading country of the continent. It took over from Spain as the pace-setter, before being outstripped by France. The smallest state in Europe, which had asserted itself victoriously against Spain, previously the strongest military power, came to the fore in trade and colonization, agriculture and architecture, fiscal affairs and finance, as well as in the arts and sciences. At the turn of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Englishmen, Frenchmen, Swedes, Germans, Italians and Scots were flooding into Holland to observe the modern Dutch army, the systematic drill, the precise army organization and the formation of a modern officer corps.21 Holland became a model of economic success, a great maritime and trading power which attracted visitors from abroad who were eager to study the origin of Dutch prosperity at first hand. Holland had overtaken Spain and Portugal; her merchants were the leaders of world trade. Owing to her high density of population, she was forced to evolve methods of intensive farming; the principle of crop rotation was introduced, and new strains of fruit and vegetables were bred. Not only the cultivation of tulips, but modern horticulture in general spread from Holland to England, Germany and France, who also adopted Dutch ideas for improving agriculture and animal husbandry in the course of the seventeenth century. A new kind of general consumer tax, the modi generates or gemeene middelen was introduced as a source of national revenue; this too was soon imitated by other countries. This superiority in warfare, trade, agriculture, overseas colonization and economic wealth was matched by superiority in the cultural sphere: the Netherlands led the way scientifically in medicine, technology, mathematics and physics, and artistically in painting and literature. In all these areas Holland reached the acme of her achievements in the seventeenth century. I have designated this broad cultural current, 2

' This last point has been separately investigated by Gerke Teitler, De wording van het professionelle officierskorps. Een sociologisch-historische analyse. Proefschrift. Universitaire Pers Rotterdam 1974,

p. 2i5ff.

66

Political Neostoicism which drew the greater part of its inspiration from the study of classical literature, the 'Netherlands movement'. Its influence is soon found in western, northern, central and eastern Europe. That branch of the movement concerned with moral, historical and political study was in its first phase dominated by Lipsius and his pupils in Leiden. Leiden owed its early fame to the kind of studies Lipsius had inaugurated there, and it attracted students from all over Europe. The updating and practical orientation of classical studies which Lipsius achieved, his universal erudition which took in all areas of learning, was the ideal at which everyone aimed, with greater or lesser success. At that time there was not, as there is today, a sharp dividing line between disciplines, and so Lipsius was able to work in five specialized areas which were very closely related and often merged with each other. We have already mentioned his role as a philologist, historian and moralist. We shall consider his importance for military science in a separate chapter. Of fundamental importance too is his activity in the field of rhetoric, for, together with poetry, rhetoric was one of the basic subjects taught in the philosophical faculties of early modern universities. The study of rhetoric was concerned with the cultivation of the Latin language, using the theoretical writings of the ancients, and formed the basis of general education and literary practice, training the student in style through the imitation of the foremost Latin prose-writers. Humanist theories of rhetoric determined the methods of teaching used in Protestant and Jesuit academies alike, in the education of the nobility, and at the universities of the three great confessions. The belief in the power of education to mould public life and to enable one to master private life, dominated the age, its teaching methods and the whole academic world. The arts of language and poetry were teachable; the examples and precepts of the classics were inculcated in dialogues and disputations in schools and universities. Arguments and material for disputation were supplied by the collections of maxims and aphorisms which flooded the book market in continually revised editions and imitations. Education in moral philosophy, historico-political material for teaching and rhetorical doctrine all worked in one direction. Only when we are familiar with the 'rhetorical basis' of Baroque literature22 can we appreciate all the connections and understand the wide influence of Lipsius.23 Ever since he had been a friend and pupil of the rhetorician 22

23

Postulated for German Baroque literature by G. Miiller, Deutsche Dichtung von der Renaissance bis zum Ausgang des Barock (Handbuch der Literaturwissenschaft 3), Potsdam 1926-8, p. 2048". For my understanding of rhetoric I am indebted to M . W. Croll, Style, Rhetoric and Rhythm, Princeton, N J . 1966, and W. Barner, Barockrhetorik.

Untersuchungen zu ihren geschichtlichen

Grundlagen, Tubingen 1970. See also H. Wansink, 'Rhetorica en politica', Tijdschrift voor Geschiedenis 85 (1972) 418-32.

67

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Muret, Lipsius had been an opponent of the dominant Ciceronian style. Muret, Montaigne and, above all, Lipsius wrote in the concise, economical Taciteian style of the silver age - to which Seneca also belonged - and succeeded in establishing it in the rhetoric and poetry of the early Baroque period. Thus the works of these Roman authors became the material for practice in rhetoric. So too, in the end, did Lipsius' own letters and works, whose sparkling language and economical dialogues so fascinated his own and succeeding generations; one even spoke of the 'Lipsian style'. His stylistic mastery is nowhere more obvious than in his Constantia. The University of Leiden did not lose its power of attraction after Lipsius' departure. Throughout the first half of the seventeenth century it remained a lively place of learning until the shift to republican thinking in the Netherlands brought about a change in political science.24 While his influence - in various forms - came to be felt even in distant and backward parts of Europe, the Netherlands outgrew the views of their famous professor, especially in military affairs, and never returned to them. In the rest of Europe, however, things developed along the lines laid down by Lipsius and his pupils in their teaching and writing: the modern state emerged, based on order, power, unity, authority, discipline and obedience. It is assuredly due partly to the prestige of Lipsius that the older doctrine of the state, based on monarchy and representation and proclaiming the right to resistance and tyrannicide, so quickly became outdated. This was no doubt the reason why the work of Althusius, which was certainly more independent and appeared fourteen years after that of Lipsius, failed to achieve a similar widespread success. Even before it appeared it had to some extent been overtaken by the writings of the early absolutists. Although Lipsius regarded monarchy - admittedly of a moderate kind and personal rule by the prince as the ideal form of government, the general tenor of his teaching is bourgeois. Its principles - strict performance of duty, inspection of conscience, constant work and equality of legal status for all - had little to do with the old world of the European nobility. This accounts for the close affinity between the Netherlands Movement and the rational ethos of the modern state, whether it is an absolute monarchy or a federation. For the expanded monarchy with its modern apparatus of government is only one of the forms to which the general trend was leading. The institutionalizing of the modern principles of life and work within the state was more in keeping with bourgeois ideas than with those of the nobility. Thus, the new officer corps, performing routine duties within the army organization, was a professional class with a regular job to do, quite different from the military nobility, which sought honour only in battle and 24

E. H. Kossmann, In Praise of the Dutch Republic: some seventeenth-century attitudes, London 1963; id., Politieke theorie in het zeventiende-eeuwse Nederland, Amsterdam i960.

68

Political Neostoicism was intent on plunder. The teaching of political Neostoicism and Grotius' ideas on law and the state determine the changes which we have to integrate into the new social ideology of asceticism and discipline. Since Max Weber's famous and still controversial study of * the Protestant ethic and the spirit of Capitalism'25 it has become common to concentrate on the close links between religion and economic life. Otto Hintze took up Weber's ideas and stressed the affinity between Calvinism and modern reason of state. For some time now the discussion initiated by Weber's ideas has led to deeper insights. Even with regard to the relations between Calvinism and reason of state, I think some modification is called for. Only by simultaneously considering political Neostoicism (which was essentially unconfessional) and the philosophy of natural law can we arrive at an answer to the troublesome question of how it was possible for constitutional ideas emanating from the Calvinist Netherlands to exercise so much influence in Lutheran and Catholic countries. It was not just external tension and internal change that produced the modern state: equally important were the practical impulses, intellectual and scientific, proceeding from the Netherlands Movement. Political humanism, as represented by Lipsius and his successor Grotius, was in a better position than Calvinism to forge a bond with the politicians of other confessions - though certainly not without a struggle. In the economic as well as the constitutional field, then, we must consider both Calvinism and humanism.26 In his brilliant study of 'Calvinism and Raison d'Etat in Early Seventeenth-Century Brandenburg',27 Otto Hintze saw a kind of natural affinity, a similarity of style, between Calvinism and modern reason of state. What the two had in common was an increased intensity and rationality in religious or political life. Hintze interprets Calvinism as a bridge by which modern reason of state, of the variety developed in the Netherlands and France, found its way into both the home and foreign policy of Brandenburg. It seems to me that there is a much greater natural affinity between Neostoicism and the idea of early modern power politics, which was after all just one vehicle of reason of state. When Hintze spoke of the influence of Calvinism, he was thinking chiefly of the introduction of ideas of central state control into the Lutheran lands east of the Elbe. But surely the strict Calvinist rejected the idea of powerful secular monarchy? Surely he favoured the idea of popular sovereignty? It is less a question of the influence of Calvinism than of the influence of the Calvinist ruling house 25

26

27

The most recent edition is M. Weber, Die protestantische Ethik I. Eine Aufsatzsammlung, 5th edn. rev. by J. Winckelmann (GTB Siebenstern 53), Giitersloh 1979. For economics see E.-A. Seils, Die Staatslehre des Jfesuiten Adam Contzen, Beichtvater Kurfiirst Maximilians I. von Bay em, Liibeck/Hamburg 1968. In F. Gilbert (ed.), The Historical Essays of Otto Hintze, New York 1975, pp. 88-154.

69

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement and its bureaucracy, a bureaucracy that had imbibed modern ideas on government at the university and during the peregrinatio academic a. The ideology of the powerful, centralized state had its origins in the crisis of the religious wars, with all their consequences for the individual and society. These origins are obscured by the seventeenth-century effects of this ideology in national and international affairs, manifesting itself as reason of state. The publica mala of Lipsius' Constantia were the European civil wars, from the Schmalkaldic war of 1546 and the civil wars in France to the Thirty Years War in Germany, the English revolution and the Fronde. There were two main political answers to the problems of the age: one aimed, since Machiavelli, at the acquisition of power, military and otherwise, and its extension and use in internal and external affairs, the other sought the creation of institutional and military power in order to restore order and impose stability. It now seems to me mistaken to use the terms Machtstaat and Machtpolitik for both developments, even though I employed the former term in 1956.28 For it was only during the growth of absolutism that the first tendency absorbed the second and became so dominant that it has retrospectively influenced the writing of history. Lipsius proclaimed the modern state, based on order and power, from amid the ruins caused by the religious wars. The spirit it embodied and its exceedingly practical orientation derived from the Neostoic philosophy of the state, which was itself eminently practical. It seems to us, therefore, that the modern phenomenon of'reason of state', which brought a higher degree of rationality and intensity into political life, was also to some extent a product of Neostoic teaching concerning the power of reason and the need for men to be active. For the first time Machiavelli's life-work could be treated with greater justice, since it contained a certain realism which had a counterpart in the Neostoic view of man. Machiavelli is the one modern writer whom Lipsius placed beside the classical writers on statecraft, Plato and Aristotle. Lipsius praised the ingenium... acre, subtile, igneum of the Florentine, though he believed him to have missed the proper path of virtue and honour. This political acknowledgment, restricted by the firm principles of Stoic morality, gave the Netherlander's work a distinct superiority over the other political doctrines of the time. Lipsius held that the state needed power, that moral authority must be matched by armed force, without which an ordered state was unimaginable. He showed himself to be free from the resentment of Calvinists like Bodin, Hotman and de la Noue, who blamed the Italian thinker for the terrors of the Massacre of St Bartholomew. He was free too from the moral and religious militancy which such men as the Jesuits Possevino, Bellarmine 28

G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt, pp. 35-79. 70

Political Neostoicism and Suarez directed against the advocate of a state which would be independent of the Church. Lipsius was the bridge linking the Machiavellian theory of the state with the practice of the miles perpetuus - a term which Lipsius himself coined. Naturally Calvinism and Neostoicism had features in common, notably their militancy and asceticism, but Machiavelli's central concern with a powerful military policy was more congenial to the Neostoic. It was not so much the Calvinists who disseminated the new ideas of state power across Germany, as followers of the Netherlands movement, irrespective of confession, those who had studied Lipsian politics. The Leiden professor saw military force (vis) as the real foundation of the state. He made it more and more central to his teaching and devoted a separate book of the Politics to it, the fifth book; moreover, at various points he called for military questions to be considered in connection with financial, home and foreign policy. In accordance with the militant spirit of Neostoicism he evolved a theory for army reform and for the reorganization of warfare and combat. This makes him the philosophical father of the early modern state. None of his contemporaries produced such a comprehensive or successful account of defence and warfare within a political theory. When Contzen included a detailed description of army organization in his Politics, it was to a great extent copied word for word from Lipsius.29 With his advocacy of military power Lipsius went outside the framework of the Christian mirrors ofprinces, those medieval teachings about princely conduct which took no account of the real dynastic and political forces behind the conflicts within the European state-system. No other writer expressed so clearly his conviction that a sharp sword was vitally necessary even in times of peace. 'From everlasting to everlasting unrest and wars remain', the political humanist states at the beginning of his military treatise De militia Romana. The recognition that almost every page of history is dictated by militia compels him to occupy himself further with war and the means of power.30 True, Lipsius' programme for a military state based on order and power is not his own invention. He carefully avoids alluding to contemporary literature. With regard to the Politics, the link with Machiavelli is obvious, even without the express acknowledgment in the preface. Gerhard Ritter has cogently pointed out in his article on 'Machiavelli and the origins of modern nationalism' that for the Florentine 'defence policy is not only his favourite subject for reflections, on which he constantly digresses - in the Istorie Fiorentine as well as in the Discorsi and // Principe - but is the real 29 30

See E.-A. Seils, op. cit., p. 166 et passim. De militia Romana libri V, commentarius ad Polybium, Antwerp 1596, p. **2. 71

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement nucleus of his teaching'.31 Ritter finds it indicative of Machiavelli's central concern that all his ideas of a renascence of statecraft peter out ' in a fog of mere praise for the constitutional conditions of ancient Rome - with one notable exception, the practical imitation of Roman defence organization'. And indeed this affords a specific connection between the Florentine and the Netherlander. Neither one can find enough words to condemn the disgraceful conduct and ineffectualness of the contemporary mercenary armies, and both advocate the creation of armies recruited from the subjects of the state. Machiavelli tried to realize this idea and subsequently wrote an extensive work on the Arte della guerra. In Machiavelli's work Lipsius found an assessment of troop-selection and discipline as the basis of the modern army. One can find many parallels between the two. Yet the later writer arrives at different assessments, dictated by military and political developments. He calls for a standing army as the instrument of state power; this was rejected by the Italian republican out of concern for the continuance of existing liberties. The religious situation has changed too. Christianity has become a warlike religion to an extent that Machiavelli had never dreamt possible. For the establishment of political power on a sound basis when peace is endangered by confessional divisions, discipline and military order, Machiavelli's virtu ordinata, are an insufficient foundation. The pillars of the state - the prince, the bureaucracy and the army - must be imbued with an ethical sense informed by Roman values; they must be the living embodiment of the Stoic imperatives - performance of duty, self-control, moderation, abstinence and pietas, as well as the courageous morality of constantia, which gives energy and strength of mind. In short, what is required of them is a dynamism bound by reason and morality. G. Schmoller, one of the greatest experts on the internal history of the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century states, repeatedly compared the bureaucracy of this period with an ecclesia militansy a secular religious order, so to speak.32 It seems to me, then, that the 'intramundane asceticism' manifested by Calvinism in the economic sphere has its counterpart in a certain political asceticism, namely the asceticism of the Neostoics with their dynamic morality, which transferred itself to the army and bureaucracy of the modern state. This brings us to the decisive difference between Machiavelli and Lipsius and between their respective views on the state. Both of them wanted a state based on power and possessing strong political authority. However, 31

32

G. Ritter, Vom sittlichen Problem der Macht, 5 Essays, Berne 1948, p. 61. Cf. also id., Die Ddmonie der Macht. Betrachtungen tiber Geschichte und Wesen des Machtproblems im politischen Denken der Neuzeity 6th. edn., Munich 1948, p. 296°. Quoted in F. Hartung, Staatsbildende Kr'dfte der Neuzeit. Gesammelte Aufsdtze, Berlin 1961, p. 218.

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Political Neostoicism the differing circumstances of the ages in which they lived and their own widely differing personalities led them to adopt different courses. In the desperate situation in Italy at the start of the sixteenth century both the Church and humanism had failed, and success seemed to come only to a statesman of strong personality who was versed in the unscrupulous practical statecraft and the immoralities of the age. In this situation, Machiavelli's state set itself the goal of exercising and increasing its power. The Massacre of St Bartholomew, the political murders and the civil wars at the end of the century showed that Machiavelli's liberties were the very causes which led to the disappearance of all political order. Only a firm moral basis coupled with military power could put an end to religious fanaticism and the absence of authority that was typical of the representative state. This was also the only ground on which a prince could assert himself in foreign affairs. At the same time political order became the embodiment of moral values in the vis temper at a. Political humanism and Neostoic philosophy thus afford an insight into the moral principles underlying the modern military state, principles which had not a little to do with its success. This is not the place to continue the comparison between Lipsius and his great predecessor by investigating the concept oipatria and the meaning of virtu, fortuna, fatum and necessita in their respective writings. Nor can we follow up the attempts which were made in the sixteenth century, in both theory and practice, to solve the military problems facing the state. Machiavelli's continuing influence in matters of army organization can be observed again and again. One person who drew heavily on him was Guillaume du Bellay, one of the inspirers of French policy under Francis I. He was the French lieutenant in Turin from 1537 until his death, and in 1535 he published anonymously an extensive work on Discipline militaire, which draws chiefly on Machiavelli. He proposed the recruitment of soldiers from among the subjects and the formation of legions; he also concerned himself with discipline and morale. The work was frequently reprinted, and it was translated into Italian, Spanish and German; hence it was probably known to Lipsius. Military discipline and obedience now became central issues in sixteenth-century discussions of military affairs. Participants in these discussions were the Frenchmen de la Ramee, de la Primaudaye and de la Noue, the Italians Simeoni, Brancaccio, Cicuta and Patrici, the German Schwendi and the Spaniard Sancho de Lodono. These thinkers formed a chain in which ancient military wisdom was passed on and continuously rethought. At first this was the point from which reform of the mercenary army repeatedly set out. Coligny at first succeeded in raising the level of discipline in the French armies, especially the Huguenot armies, but this did not last, 73

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement as we learn from the complaints of Francois de la Noue, the defender of La Rochelle. Attempts were made in Germany to restore discipline through a revision of military law and the articles of war; the revision was given force by imperial legislation, forced through by Lazarus von Schwendi in 1570. These attempts too were unsuccessful. The second basic element of army reform, dilectus or troop-selection, the training of selected native troops, was put into practice in Spain, Italy, England, France (the legions of Francis I in 1534 and of Henry II in 1552) and Germany (the Landrettungsvereine of the German border states).33 The selected troops recruited and trained in peacetime are not to be equated with the old levies carried out without selection in case of war; the two must be sharply distinguished. The conception of the state which goes with these ideas finds clear expression in the works that have been mentioned; behind them there is a clear endeavour to find an accommodation with the people, to convince it of the need for defence and educate it to accept the military policy of the state; the aim is always an understanding between the ruler and the people. The desire to create military power on the basis of popular armies is incompatible with a real absolutist regime pursuing a dynamic policy. Hence Lipsius' criticism of Bodin's formula legibus solutus, which involves the risk of a tense relationship between prince and subjects. It is typical of the French thinker that he should warn against general conscription and condemn the organization of legions under Francis I and Henry II. 34 Bodin is less a spokesman for the modern military state than a herald of sovereignty and absolute monarchy, both of which were genuine products of French soil and had already been embodied once in Francis I with his popular absolutism. Bodin only just escaped the Massacre of St Bartholomew; it is therefore understandable that he should for political (and personal and religious) reasons include the factor of mediation, of a third party, as well as the idea of toleration. Lipsius, who was seventeen years younger, also pursued these aims, but as a humanist and a citizen of the northern Netherlands, which for decades had been fighting a war against the Spanish rule of Philip II, could not accept the strictest form of absolutism. Thus, though they both wanted a strong state, capable of resisting pretensions to power on the part of the 33

34

G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt, pp. 311-55; G. Thies, Territorialstaat und Landesverteidigung. Das Landesdefensionswerk in Hessen-Kassel unter Landgraf Moritz {1592-1627). (Quellen und Forschungen zur hessischen Geschichte 23), Darmstadt and Marburg 1973; W. Schulze, Landesdefension und Staatsbildung. Studien zum Kriegswesen des innerosterreichischen Territoriahtaates (1564-1619), Vienna Cologne Graz 1973. J. Bodin, De la republique v, 5. Bodin is opposed to fortifications on technical and political grounds. The Dutch, who revived the use of fortifications in war, had little in common with him on this matter too. 74

Political Neostoicism churches and the estates, facts of nationality and historical experience determined the course that each wanted to see followed. Lipsius wished the prince to be free from any restrictions imposed by the estates, but to be bound by laws; he also wished him to have 'military sovereignty' in the form of a standing army. Bodin, on the other hand, wanted his monarch to be bound by divine and natural law, but otherwise completely free; he left him, however, without any real military power. In spite of these differences one can discern the influence of Bodin in the second part of Lipsius' Politics. This may be because a Latin version of the Six Livres de la republique was published in 1586. Perhaps this accounts also for the delay that occurred in the publication of the Politics. One must not separate Lipsius and Bodin too radically simply because the former sided with the Spaniards against the formula princeps legibus solutus while Bodin favoured it. At any rate the sixth book of the Politics, which deals with civil war, is in the spirit of Bodin and employs the same arguments. Lipsius probably knew also the topical writings of the 'Politiques', men like de la Noue and de la Primaudaye, to whom he was very close and whose general approach he shared.35 He was in the mainstream of modern Italian and French constitutional doctrine. One should probably distinguish between two main intellectual sources for the development of the sovereign state in the age of religious conflicts: political sovereignty had its source in France and found a spokesman in Bodin, while Lipsius and Grotius did not favour it. The necessary military instrument of power, however, a drilled and disciplined standing army was largely conceived by Dutch humanism in the struggle with Spain, the great military power of Europe, and then became a widespread concept. For Neostoicism meant the moral and spiritual arming of the individual and the community. Dutch philology, under the influence of Neostoic philosophy, placed itself in the service of the state and helped to arm it politically and militarily. At the same time it set limits to what the state could do, despite its greatly increased potentialities in war and peace, by developing the scope of military and international law. While Lipsius was still alive, Grotius continued the introductory chapters of Book V of the chilis doctrina. There can be no doubt about the intellectual foundations of the early modern state and about the way in which these were complemented by natural and international law. This can be seen also in the specialized field of military science. 35

On this question see G. Oestreich, Antiker Geist und moderner Staat bei Justus Lipsius (1547-1606). Der Neustoizismus als politische Bewegung (typescript), Free University Berlin 1954, p. 168.

75

The military renascence It must be remembered that the Republic of the United Provinces won its freedom by asserting itself in war. War and military life were thus the basis of its independence and at the heart of its sense of nationhood. Such self-assertion was possible only through military means. However, the warlike ethos which marked Dutch Calvinism at the end of the sixteenth century turned to one of pacifist isolationism after 1648. E. H. Kossmann states numerous reasons for this 'dichotomy' in the ideals of Dutch society and points to the conditions which, at the beginning of the century, caused war to be seen as an inevitable and acceptable part of the natural order.1 Ever since 1572, constant war (helium perpetuum) had seemed the very condition of natural unity and florescence; the period of truce after 1609 caused the internal difficulties and tensions to erupt, so destroying the unity that had arisen during the time of struggle. And in fact the Dutch humanism of the period helped in the military safeguarding of independence and liberty. The three great military treatises of Lipsius, ranging from a general consideration of war and military matters, by way of Roman army organization, to the more specialized study of ancient military technique, set an example for further humanist endeavour in technical and practical spheres. The military reforms of the princes of Orange-Nassau, begun at the close of the sixteenth century, rested largely on the principles of Roman Stoicism, which, when applied to army life, were the principal reason for the success of the reforms. The need for military self-assertion in a desperate struggle for political, religious and economic freedom led to close collaboration between theorists and practitioners, scholars and commanders, in this small but wealthy country. The educated military leaders summoned up collossal energy in order to overcome their problems, and they found full support among the middle-class merchants who were threatened by Spain. In the face of a choice between survival or annihilation, ways and means were found to bring about the reform of the army, a reform which soon affected the whole 1

E. H. Kossmann, In Praise of the Dutch Republic: some seventeenth-century attitudes. Inaugural Lecture, University College London, 13 May 1963, p. 7: 'Their very existence was war; their state owed its life to war. It was difficult to see how it could survive without war.'

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The military renascence of Europe. The Spanish infantry, officered by the poor minor nobility of the country, was the best in Europe. They faced Dutch mercenary soldiers who had seen service first with the French and then with the English. Given the enormous size of the Spanish empire, the seven rebellious provinces seemed without a chance. Only by a gigantic effort were they able to achieve some sort of balance with the Spaniards. This was the work of the cousins Count William Louis of Nassau and Prince Maurice of Orange, with the help of their nephew, Count John VII of Nassau. Maurice of Orange was one of the most famous pupils of Lipsius. In 1583 and 1584 he studied under him at Leiden for three semesters at the direction of his father and at the expense of the States General. Lipsius also gave advice on the early stages of the reforms. When the Militia Romana was published, the States General at once sent a copy to Maurice, although Lipsius, the pride of the university, had meanwhile gone over to the other side and was teaching in Lou vain; he had dedicated his book to the future Philip III of Spain. Maurice always referred to Lipsius as his teacher. He approached him, for instance, through C. Aerssens, the secretary of the States General, for clarification on the undecided question of whether soldiers should or should not be employed to dig fortifications - a matter of considerable moment in the siege warfare the Dutch were predominantly engaged in. The classical philologist replied by pointing to the example of the Roman legionaries, who were so employed, and the military men decided accordingly.2 In 1590 William Louis of Nassau, the second of the reformers, recommended that his younger brothers should study at Leiden, on account, he said, of the politicus Lipsius.3 The significance of classical philology in the technical and tactical evolution of the modern army has frequently been emphasized, and W. Hahlweg has illustrated it by his extremely careful analyses.4 Yet his studies do not touch upon the ideological and ethical background. He shows in great detail that the idea of daily drill was very effectively backed up by translating ancient instructions and commands literally into modern 2

3

4

J. Lipsius, letter to C. Aerssens, secretary to the States General, of 28 May 1590: 'Alterum quod quaeris; de Fossoribus et operis est, quod in castris et militia adhibemus. Habuerintne eos prisci? Nego habuisse' (G. H. M. Delprat, Lettres inedites de Juste Lipse concernant ses relations avec les homtnes d'etat des pr ovine es-unies des Pays-Bas, Amsterdam 1858, p. 4if.)- There follow a detailed account and supporting passages from Vegetius, Caesar and Plutarch. Lipsius here promises to add notes to Book V of the Politic or um libri sex, but they were never written. However, in De Militia Romana, p. 2488". he treats the digging of fortifications by soldiers as a necessary part of military discipline. G. Groen van Prinsterer, Archives ou correspondance inedite de la Maison d''Orange-Nassau, Deuxieme serie, 1, Utrecht 1857, p. 13. W. Hahlweg, Die Heeresreform der Oranier unddie Antike, Berlin 1941; id., * Griechisches, romisches und byzantinisches Erbe in den hinterlassenen Schriften des Markgrafen Georg Friedrich von Baden', Zeitschrift fur die Geschichte des Oberrheins 98 (1950). On p. 40-8 of the latter are listed the new editions of the military classics issued at the time.

77

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement languages, that the ancient orders of battle, march and camp were adopted as a direct model, that attempts were made to produce replicas of ancient weapons, and that modern weapons were deployed and used along the lines laid down by ancient writers. Throughout the century, ever since Machiavelli's celebrated book Arte della guerray humanists had been trying to bring modern warfare into line with ancient practice. These endeavours were given their historically most effective expression by Lipsius in his De Militia Romana libri quinque, commentarius ad Polybium of 1595-6.

Sometimes philologists were directly commissioned by the Dutch commanders to carry out projects of military science. J. J. Scaliger, who succeeded Lipsius at Leiden, edited the Opera Caesaris in 1606. Meursius, a Leiden pupil of Lipsius, brought out the first edition of the Tactic a Leonis Imperatoris in 1612, adding a Latin translation of the Greek text at the request of Maurice of Orange. Sixtus Arcerius in Franeker edited Aelian and parts of Polybius in 1613, obviously at the suggestion of Count William Louis of Nassau. Salmasius in Leiden was commissioned by Frederick Henry of Orange to write De re militari Romanorum; this work was kept secret and only appeared in 1657, after the author and the instigator had died. Journeys undertaken for scholarly research between 1641 and 1643 brought to light new manuscripts of works by classical tacticians for use in Salmasius' work. From the correspondence of the princes we know that the reformers spent their nights at their desks, poring over the classical military authors, over Polybius, Aelian and Leo Imperator, and, in the company of their closest associates, practising elementary movements and orders of battle with lead soldiers. All the works that have been mentioned are fundamental for ancient military science, which was being brought back to life. Isaac Casaubon, who was librarian to Henry IV of France and had close dealings with the Netherlands school of philology, published the first edition of Polyaenus' Stratagemata in 1589, and twenty years later the famous edition of Polybius, a project previously agreed with Lipsius. Janus Gruterus, a pupil of Lipsius and later professor at Heidelberg, edited his Florilegii.. .Martis et Bellonae.. .de re militari in 1624; this anthology of Greek and Roman military writers runs to over 2,000 folio pages. One of the last feats of Dutch philology was the first edition, with Latin translation, of the Strategikon, by an author known as Maurikios. This was brought out in 1664 by Johan Scheffer, who taught political science in Uppsala, but had been trained in Holland. The 'politico-technical' literature of the humanists was supposed to bring together all the ancient works in a gigantic filing system as it were, so that they might be immediately accessible at any time. The intention was to make it possible to study any problem which occurred and for which 78

The military renascence there was as yet no immediate modern' business procedure' and no possible solution by modern methods. The philologists were, so to speak, the resourceful and knowledgeable filing-clerks and archivists who dug out older forgotten 'procedures'. Sitting working at their desks, they were at first figures of fun, but it was from their work, and from the simulation of Caesar's orders of march and battle with the help of lead soldiers, that the new European army arose. The scientific approach to warfare had begun. The scientific study of fortifications became a university discipline under Simon Stevens, the celebrated military engineer. This was the first example in modern times of institutionalized collaboration between academics and the general staff. Apart, however, from military organization and the arts of war proper, Lipsius had called for military ethics to be treated as an equally important ingredient of reform; these also did not remain merely on paper. The Neostoic philosophy of action, constancy, self-control and obedience instantly appealed to the commanders and their officers, for here was an answer to the burning question of the moment - how to establish and maintain good order and military discipline in the unruly armies of the day. The general idea of educating the men, which lies behind the reforms, is revealed as early as August 1590, when the celebrated Dutch Articles of War were issued. The work of education was not slow to bear fruit in the Netherlands. In 1620 the Venetian ambassador recorded with great surprise that Dutch towns applied for troops to be quartered in them and that the citizens thought nothing of leaving their wives and daughters alone with the soldiers - 'a thing that would not do elsewhere'. And Hugo Grotius tells us that Maurice set up a market in his army camp, where the farmers went, without fear of violence, to sell food to the soldiery, whom they had formerly taken care to avoid. 'Friend and foe admired the authority that Maurice had over his troops.'5 Velazquez, in his painting of the surrender of Breda, captured the early peak of this moral transformation, which was produced by the Neostoic military ethos even in the Spanish enemy. The Dutch theatre of war, in which English, French, German, Italian, Spanish and Dutch mercenary armies met, might almost have been designed for the rapid adoption of the practical reforms and the propagation of the ideas underlying them. In his book War and Human Progress,** John U. Nef draws an impressive contrast between the honourable treatment of the Netherlands garrison after the surrender of Breda in 1625 and the brutal destruction and the massacre of the inhabitants of Magdeburg in the Thirty Years War. The Spanish commander Spinola allowed all the troops to 5 6

Gustav Roloff, 'Moritz von Oranien und die Begriindung des modernen Heeres', Preussische Jahrbucher i n , 1903. London 1950, p. i38ff.

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Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement withdraw fully armed, with colours flying and drums beating, and permitted the garrison commander and his officers to travel to the nearest Dutch town. Nef rightly remarks that in the representation of this event by Velazquez we sense, as it were,' a new chivalry', which promised Europe the blessing of a possible period of 'limited warfare'. One has to add, however, that this was probably not just 'the remains of the medieval conception of universal Christian fellowship', but more probably the first visible expression of the quest for a military ethic and discipline essentially orientated towards Neostoic values. In the same year Hugo Grotius, who had meanwhile been driven out of Holland, published his principal work, De jure belli ac pacts in Paris; this treats of the limitation of war by universally valid international law and is based on Stoicism and the doctrine of natural law. In the long term, however, the armies of the Thirty Years War became more and more cruel and unbridled, thus putting a violent end to these beginnings. Apart from a few drill instructions, no works by the leaders of the Dutch army reforms were published during the period. However, the most important military writers of all the European armies show the effects of the new spirit. The Frenchmen Louis de Montgommery and J. de Billon, the Spanish commander Bernardino de Mendoza, the Italian general Giorgio Basta, the English captain John Cruse, and - not least - Germans like Wallhausen and Dilich (to name only authors who wrote well-known works) all follow the Netherlands professor in spirit and in his method of presentation. Rantzau, the Danish lieutenant and humanist, who had close literary contacts with Lipsius and a glowing admiration for the Constantia, imitated the fifth book of the Civilis doctrina in 1595 in his Commentarius bellicusP In the south in the same year the soldier-diplomat Mendoza brought out his Theorica y Pratica de guerra; his Spanish translation of Lipsius' Politics was published in Madrid in 1604. I*1 J e n a m J6o9 Elias Reusner produced his Thesaurus bellicus, the fruit of ten years' university teaching of military science under the spell of Justus Lipsius. Anyone who knows the works of Lipsius and then reads the famous memoires of Montecuccoli8 will find on nearly every page echoes of the Neostoic philosophy of the state, history and life, as well as of Dutch military doctrine. To extol Montecuccoli is in reality to extol Lipsius, his concept of scholarship, his system of military science, his philosophy of 7

8

F. Lammert, 'Heinrich Rantzau und sein Kriegsbuch', Nordelbingen. Beitrdge zur Heimatforschung in Schleswig-Holstein, Hamburg und Lubeck 14 (1938) 302-34. The military parts of the counterreformation Politics of Contzen (1620 and 1630) are also simply excerpts from Lipsius. This is demonstrated by E. A. Seils, Die Staatslehre des jfesuiten Adam Contzen, Beichtvater Kurfiirst Maximilian I. von Bay em, Lubeck 1968. Raimund Graf Montecuccoli, Memorie delta guerra, Bk. I, Cologne 1692. Books I—III were edited under the title Memorie del General Principe di Montecuccoli, Cologne 1704.

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The military renascence eternal rise and decline, his picture of the army commander and his assessment of fortune in war. 'What Bodin is to the doctrine of the state or Bacon to philosophy, Montecuccoli is to military science', says Stadelmann.9 It would probably be more correct to say: 'What Bodin is to the theory of sovereignty and absolute monarchy, Lipsius is to the theory and practice of absolute government and of its military power.' Of all military writers, J. de Billon was the one who, describing the Dutch reforms in 1608, gave the fullest account of military ethics. He published his Principes de Part milk aire in 1612 in Rouen, a French centre of Neostoicism. Like many of his contemporaries he had been trained in the Netherlands and reported his experiences. In the preface he praises la prudence, la force, la justice et la temperance as sure guides for all mortals,

but especially important for the soldier. A perfect captain must have these virtues, and in addition must have mastered all the arts and sciences in all their branches. It depends on the commander whether a whole kingdom is to be saved or lost in a single campaign. Billon follows Lipsius in dividing la prudence into la prudence civile and la prudence militaire. Lipsius is the

only writer he quotes in his extensive work. The concept of discipline, as defined by Lipsius, is made the starting point of Billon's description of modern warfare, but he deals only with the first two subdivisions, exercise and order, referring to Lipsius himself for the last two, which are important for the Stoic outlook. On the other hand, the French lieutenant-colonel prefaces his first part, a 'book of offices', with a chapter on 'Les Moeurs et le Devoir du soldat', in which he gives moral guidance for all ranks. The very heading 'Duties of the soldier', under which the military ethic is set out, echoes the Stoa. The rich tradition of moral philosophy to which Montaigne, Charron and du Vair belong is reflected here. Billon is the first to list the thirty duties and qualities of the soldier; first among them is obedience. A soldier must be obeissant, diligent, sobre, patient, courageux,

discret et courtois. The soldier's duties are to look after his weapons, to obey and to fight. The captain, on the other hand, has to command. Again and again Billon points out how fruitful and beneficial obedience is. Obedience is useful for learning, care is useful for practice, courage for action and endurance. If Billon demands of the common soldier fear of God, patience, abstinence in drinking and loving, and the avoidance of all quarrelling, these virtues are nevertheless subordinated to the proper military discipline of obedience. On a higher level there is a detailed account of the duties of the captain, whom the army reforms had made the most important pillar of military authority. He becomes the military representative of the Stoic ideal of 9

R. Stadelmann, Scharnhorsty Schicksal und geistige Welty Wiesbaden 1952, p. 956°. 8l

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement wisdom. The captain must above all be steadfast, wise and moderate. He needs la Constance in order to keep the soldiers obedient and disciplined and to make them live wisely (les faire sagement vivre). He is wise (sage), knowing how to be moderate in all vicissitudes, and is prevented by his esprit noble from acting dishonourably. Now there appears for the first time a conflict between the Stoic ideal of sagesse and the soldierly ideal of courage and bravery. Billon says of the captain: ' He must be wise and modest in all his actions, but in giving orders and military commands he must be brilliant, bold, and alert.' The tensions between the demands of philosophy and military ethics are solved in favour of the latter. An officer wins respect and affection from his soldiers by rewarding good conduct and punishing faults (though overlooking minor shortcomings). It is the captain's duty to ensure by his example that the soldiers feel bound to each other and eschew hatred and quarrelling. If unconditional obedience is to be required of the common soldier, no superior must issue an order to his officers ' contrary to what God commands, contrary to their honour and yours, contrary to virtue, contrary to your conscience and theirs'. These restrictions on obedience by reference to God, honour, virtue and conscience - which are in part restrictions on civil obedience - disappeared during the seventeenth century with the exception of the one concerning honour. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries this too was eliminated, 'being incompatible with good discipline', as Prince Friedrich Karl wrote in i860. When Billon explains authority as a mixture of fear and admiration, when he wishes the captain to have authority and the affection of his soldiers, when he demands moderation in all actions, one can almost hear the Netherlands professor lecturing. Humanity and respect for human dignity are at a high premium. A perfect captain never gives his soldiers harmful advice; he supports them in sickness and adversity; he is always ready to listen to them. He treats his soldiers honourably; he will never insult them and will strike them only with the sword and not with the stick. The picture of the general, representing the third level of military duties and virtues, contains one attribute in addition to those which Lipsius calls for in the commander: liber alite is added to experience, vertu, providence, authorite and fortune. The ideal commander is prudent, magnanime, liberal, subtil, vigilant, sobre, penible, bien parlant et bien renomme. It is more

important for the general to be feared than for him to be loved, and Billon adds, realistically: 'For people who are incapable of love (like most soldiers) are restrained more by the fear of punishment than by love for the general.' The concept of honour - and also of patriotism, which I cannot discuss here - is more to the fore in the work of the French officer than in that of the Netherlands professor. As if to replace the exaggerated Spanish conception of honour which was current in the armies of Europe - honor 82

The military renascence etfama - Billon concludes his work with the motto fides et honor, adding, Cest a dire Chrestien et Soldat. Perhaps we may modify this to Stoicien et Soldat. However, what Billon proposes here, prompted by Dutch theory and practice, was only partly realized in France: moral education lagged far behind technical and tactical training. Around 1600 wefindthe theory of the behaviour and duties of the soldier developed to an unusually high degree. Piety and fear of the Lord are partnered by strict discipline and a firm concept of honour, constancy and self-control by patience and love, mechanical drill by moral education. The narrow concept of discipline known to the sixteenth century has been superseded. However, the practical army reforms carried out by the princes of Orange-Nassau did not entirely follow the programme drawn up by humanist scholars. The reformers did not take up the first of their main suggestions, the recruitment and selection of native troops. These were still recruited in wartime by the customary method of contract. The explanation lies in the social and economic circumstances of the Netherlands. In the assembly of the States General, which governed the loose federation of the seven provinces, the strongest influence was wielded by the towns - which meant the merchants. Commercial capital was the dominant factor, especially in Holland, which contributed 58% of the national revenue and so had the whip-hand. The dominant merchant class was able and willing to come up promptly with the funds necessary to pay an army of mercenaries, but preferred not to embark on an experiment which would cut into the economic order - which is what the conscription of all the able-bodied young men would have meant. At the heart of Dutch thinking on military reorganization is the disciplined professional soldier, led by an equally well trained and ethically sound professional officer. What we witness in Holland during the prosecution of the war against Spain is a fundamental reform of army organization and the creation of modern military science. We see a quite different picture in the hereditary lands of the Counts of Nassau. Their aims were limited. Seeing themselves endangered by their active support for the Dutch cause, they resorted to an older military tradition and succeeded in forming a properly organized and properly trained defence force recruited from among their subjects. This force was always in a state of readiness; the men were not called upon to fight an open war, but were there to protect their prince, their families and their property.l ° Although there are many points of contact between the doings of John of Nassau and the teachings of Lipsius, the Netherlander in fact went far beyond the thinking of most of his contemporaries, which was largely determined by religious motives. The enhancement of the power 10

G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt, pp. 311-55.

83

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement of the state, no longer representative or already anti-representative, the creation and use of firm authority, the formation of a professional standing army, and the insistence on action, based not on confessional allegiances, but on a political ethic - all this points forward to the seventeenth century, to the period of standing armies, independent princely government and conscious power politics. In the period which saw the threat of a Catholic counter-attack, Nassau became the model for many attempts at raising armies, especially in Calvinist territories,1l which, according to the general consensus, wasted a great deal of effort on a completely futile undertaking. The counts of Nassau without exception expressed their admiration for the political spirit of Leiden University, which their intense personal involvement in Holland led them to think of as 'their' university. In the papers of Count John VII of Nassau one can find long excerpts from the works of Lipsius,12 whose influence can also be discerned everywhere in John's memoranda.13 The study of Lipsius and the other professors, together with the actual experience of war in the Netherlands, was the chief basis of the instruction given at Europe's first military academy, which was opened at Siegen, on Nassau soil. In the 1597 plague ordinance for Dillenburg, drawn up by John himself, we read that the ruler must preserve himself for all his subjects as the commander does for the whole army. 'And therefore such conduct [i.e. exposing oneself to danger] on the part of the ruler is judged by everybody to be foolhardiness and temerity rather than constancy or foresight.' In a military memorandum John calls in the first place for clemency and love {dementia et amor) on the part of the prince who wants to make soldiers of his subjects. The ruler must recruit his subjects by means of sound warnings and powerful reminders, not with force and compulsion - in other words with bona consdentia. In training he must be 'liberal and friendly' towards them and so win the affection and trust of the soldiers. Military justice must be moderated. The prince or commander should inspire courage in his men and persuade them (here John uses his favourite expression zu Gemiit fuhren) to fight and die honourably for their country, their wives and their children. These ideas are complemented by those of Maurice of Hesse, who believed that the subjects' education in the army involved a struggle for the moral improvement of the people as a whole. In a lengthy memorandum 11 12

13

See below, ch. 13, pp. 228ff. Staatsarchiv Wiesbaden, Abt. 171, K. 924, Kriegsbuch des Grafen jfohann von Nassau. Similarly German princes and reformers of defence organization constantly refer to Lipsius, e.g. Landgrave Maurice of Hesse (1601) and Margrave George Frederick of Baden (1614-17). Most of the writings of John of Nassau are collected in the so-called Kriegsbuch and now published under the title Die Heeresreform der Oranier. Das Kriegsbuch des Grafen Jfohann von Nassau-Siegen, edited by W. Hahlweg and published by the Historische Kommission fur Nassau, Wiesbaden 1973.

84

The military renascence 14

of 1601 he gave as the three aims of the new popular army: defence of prince and country, enhancement of esteem and reputation, and the removal of the vices' of pernicious idleness, of disgraceful licence and excess in eating, drinking, dress and behaviour, of disorder and wickedness' (otii, voluptatis, malae disciplinae abrogatio). Avaritia, luxus, mala intentio, mala fides are to be combated by militaris disciplina. The stoicizing moral philosophy of the French, which called chiefly for the subjugation of the emotions and desires and for a war on vice, soon included warfare within its purview.l5 This and the military ethics of Lipsius were the starting point for the ideas of Maurice of Hesse. The high esteem in which the Netherlands philologist was universally held is proved too by the judgment of George Frederick of Baden in his Book of War of 1614-17.16 After a complete transcription of the chapter on army discipline from the Politics, he writes of this work: ' Whoever wishes to know more about these things should read the whole of the fifth and sixth books of Lipsius. For in my opinion even the most illustrious commander need not be ashamed to draw many good lessons and recollections from this man trained in the schools, for he was truly a man of great understanding in worldly affairs.' But from military practice too we possess an interesting piece of evidence. After a German army had mutinied near Rees on 7 September 1599, the landgrave Maurice of Hesse questioned the individual officers of the Hessian regiment. Accordingly, on 17 December 1599, Eitel Wolf von Gudenberg, who had taken part in the campaign as a cavalry captain in command of the carabineers, wrote as follows by way of exculpation: ' . . . and although I neglected nothing by way of diligence or whatever might have served to maintain my reputation and good name and those of the cavalrymen under my command, and which would have prevented such a disgraceful example, detrimental as it is to the name of German chivalry, but exhorted, begged and implored not only my own men, but also the other carabineers, while we were in the Netherlands, to show constancy, courage, obedience and patience... M 7 If we translate the last four nouns into Latin, we arrive at the constantia, virtus, parientia and patientia demanded by the Neostoic ethic. 14

1s

16 17

See the detailed account by G. Thies, Territorialstaat und Landesverteidigung. Das Landesdefensionswerk in Hessen-Kassel unter Landgraf Moritz (1592-1627), Darmstadt 1973. Moritz mentions the Militia Rotnana, but not the Neostoic literature. He clearly follows Pierre de la Primaudaye's Academica Gallica, of which a German translation, dedicated to the landgrave, appeared in 1593. Cf. F. Neubert's studies on the history of French philosophy in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries: F. Neubert, Franzosische Literaturprobleme. Gesammelte Aufsatze, Berlin 1962, esp. the article 'Die Academie de Palais unter Heinrich III. und die Anfange der neueren psycho-moralischen Literatur in Frankreich'. The contents are given by M. Jahns, Geschichte der Kriegswissenschaften II, Munich 1890, pp. 936-42. Staatsarchiv Marburg, Rep. 4. 'Political documents after Philipp. h 19'.

85

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement The strongest influence of the Dutch model is to be observed in Sweden. Many of the famous Swedish commanders served in the Netherlands, and Gustavus Adolphus himself regarded Prince Maurice as his teacher. It was in Sweden that Lipsius' first proposal for reform, the selection of subjects for military service, was put into practice. The articles of war which Gustavus Adolphus drew up for his regiments in 1621 are an elaboration of the Dutch articles of 1590. They are characterized by their humanity, by a firm conception of honour and by strong religious features. While the simple citizen in military service is committed to unconditional obedience, he retains the respect due to him as a citizen and a human being when he leaves the service. For Gustavus Adolphus military service is an ennobling occupation. In war the small Swedish army had to be supplemented by troops recruited from other countries. Consequently the original intention was stifled, and long before the end of the Thirty Years War the ethical element contained in the Neostoic concept of discipline was entirely lost. The decisive part played by the spirit which informs an army, quite apart from any technical or tactical advantages it may have, is illustrated by Cromwell's army after the reorganization of 1645.18 Unlike many of the English generals, Cromwell himself was not educated by the Dutch and the Swedes, but he was influenced by the new ideas. The principle of selection was strictly applied. The 'New Model Army' was very small in proportion to the total population, but it had its pay firmly guaranteed. Its articles of war were based on those of the continent, and its discipline had a largely religious basis. With this parliamentary army Cromwell was able to avoid the usual excesses of civil war. With the return of the Stuarts this experiment was quickly ended. The awareness that the Stoa had provided the basis for the modern army was still present (or had been rediscovered) in the first half of the eighteenth century. In 1723 J. C. Liinig published his Corpus Juris Militaris. In this gigantic work he included a suggestion as to what books should be included in the library of an officer. The sphere of ethics is principally represented by Les CEuvres de Seneque, Les Offices de Ciceron, L*Esprit de Seneque, La

Morale d'Epictete. In 1726 there appeared J. F. von Flemming's Der vollkommene Teutsche Soldat, an extensive and methodical encyclopedia which has been called 'one of the characteristic works of this period'.19 18

19

C. H. Firth, CromwelPs Army. A history of the English soldier during the civil wars, the Commonwealth and the Protectorate, London 1921. M. Jahns, op. cit., p. 1455. The encyclopedias of the eighteenth century have recently been discussed by Eckart Kutsche, Kriegsbild, Wehrverfassung und Wehrwesen in der Deutschen Enzyklopddie des 18. jfahrhunderts, dargestellt an Zedlers Grossem Universallexikon (diss.), Freiburg im Breisgau 1975-

86

The military renascence Its political and military wisdom still derives largely from Lipsius. The first dedicatory poem ('Gratulationsgedicht') ends with the following claim: 'Germany too can now celebrate the heroes' armoury. Here Flemming rises up, the Lipsius of the Germans!' Lipsius joins Polybius and Vegetius to form the most celebrated trio in military science. A generation later a work in five volumes appeared which brought together 'all the knowledge and opinion of the time on military and international law'. 20 This was the Observationes militares of J. E. von Beust (1743-57). It cites the Politico,, Militia Romana, the Tacitus commentary, De magnitudine Romana and other works by Lipsius. A century and a half after his death the Netherlands humanist is put on a par with Aristotle and Machiavelli on questions regarding the territorial militia; when it comes to defining military discipline he is the sole authority cited.21 The ideas of Roman Stoicism and the philosophy of Lipsius were to be revived once more. If one examines the spiritual background of the Prussian military reforms, beginning with Scharnhorst's memorandum of April 1806, one becomes aware of an enduring European tradition going back two hundred years. The situation during the Wars of Liberation was in all essentials similar to that of the Dutch Revolt, but the military basis was entirely different from that of the princes of Orange-Nassau. Military life had meanwhile become ossified and lacking in moral content; army organization was dominated by mathematical calculation and soulless discipline. Drawing upon the Orange-Nassau tradition, which was still alive in the small states of Germany, Scharnhorst and his helpers resurrected the Neostoic ideals for the modern conscript army. In the Immediatbericht der Militdr-Reorganisationskommission of 8 June 1808 we read the following general observations on the treatment of soldiers: ' At the beginning [one should employ] friendly persuasion and make clear the duties incumbent upon him, and only if this more gentle procedure is unavailing should one make judicious use of the permitted punishments in their varying degrees of severity...'; and: 'If the officer relies for his dignity on developing his abilities, on increasing his knowledge and on his real inner worth, he cannot fail to win the trust and respectful obedience of the men to a high degree and to lay afirmand lasting foundation for his reputation.'22 These notions are all familiar to us from the writings of Lipsius, John of Nassau and others - love, trust, respect, reputation, friendly persuasion, gentle procedure, justice, development of physical, mental and spiritual qualities, powers and virtues. Scharnhorst rediscovered them for Prussia. 20 21 22

M. Jahns, op. cit., p. 1464. J. E. von Beust, Observationes militares, Gotha 1743, v, 2, p. 552 and in, p. 265, Obs. 191. R. Vaupel (ed.), Das Preussische Heer vom Tilsiter Frieden bis zur Befreiung 1807 bis 1814 (Publikationen aus den Preussischen Staatsarchiven Bd. 94) 1, Leipzig 1938, p. 4630°.

87

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Clausewitz described the moral forces of army life in his book Vom Kriege, especially in the chapter 'On the spirit of war'. Since the fundamental studies of Rothfels and Schering it is probably generally agreed' that Clausewitz was by temperament a philosopher, who interpreted the experiences of the Napoleonic era without pursuing " militaristic " aims, and that it was he who warned against the one-sidedness of militaristic thinking'. 23 However, it has not yet been established what the basis of his philosophy was. Schering has shown that he was not guided or decisively influenced by Kant or Hegel or any other contemporary thinker.24 In my view the philosophy, psychology and ethics of Clausewitz are largely rooted in the military tradition, which has so far been completely overlooked. The essence of military leadership as Clausewitz saw it - or, as Rothfels puts it, 'the ideal he had in mind' 25 - has been characterized by a quotation from the military philosopher himself: 'A strong spirit is not one that is simply capable of strong emotions, but one which retains its balance even in the presence of the strongest emotions, so that, despite the storms in the breast, insight and conviction are allowed the most subtle play, like the needle of the compass on a storm-tossed ship.' 26 These are the thoughts and imagery of Neostoicism. Clausewitz also calls for constancy and firmness. Lipsius at first defined constantia as rectum et immotum animi robury then as firmitudinem insitam animo... a judicio et recta ratione. According to Clausewitz, firmness can 'have its basis in mere strength of feeling, while constancy must be supported more by the understanding'. The opposite quality, obstinacy, the pervicacia of Neostoicism, was also seen by both as a temperamental quality. The link between Clausewitz and Lipsius revealed here is certainly not far-fetched, for a few years earlier, in 1802, a new translation of the Constantia (the third in German) had appeared in Leipzig. If we consider, moreover, the general cultural background of contemporary classicism, it does not surprise us that leading figures of the time should have concerned themselves with classical models and with evidence for the revival and survival of the classical spirit - even in military affairs. These classical foundations subsequently disappeared again from the consciousness of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The Prussian general staff certainly cultivated tradition, but in its library it had neither Seneca nor Cicero, 23

24

25

26

G. Ritter, Deutsche Literaturzeitung 69 (1948) col. 146, agreeing with the judgment of A. Vagts, A History of Militarism, London 1938. W. M. Schering, Die Kriegsphilosophie von Clausewitz. Eine Untersuchung iiber ihren systematischen Aufbau, Hamburg 1935, p. 1058". H. Rothfels in his Introduction to C. von Clausewitz, Politische Schriften und Briefe, Munich 1922, p. xxvi. C. von Clausewitz, Vom Kriege, 16th edn., Bonn 1952, p. 142.

The military renascence neither Epictetus nor Marcus Aurelius - either in the original languages or in German translation - and the Constantia and the Politics of Lipsius were absent too.27 Only French translations of Seneca and Cicero were available, brought to Berlin from Metz in 1878 with the library of the Ecole ^Application. 27

Katalog der Bibliothek des Koniglich Preussischen Generalstabs, Berlin 1912.

The European echo In the political sphere, as in the military, the first Dutch work of political science soon gave rise to an immense flood of writings which directly or indirectly derived from it, and later it was complemented by the work of Grotius on international relations and natural law. First in the field were Lipsius' own pupils, members of his immediate circle, academic associates elsewhere, and admirers and imitators. His pupils soon divided into two groups, which we may call the Leiden school and the Lou vain school; the former was largely indifferent to religious divisions, the latter more bound by confessional allegiances. The arcana imperil written by the new professors of history and politics in Germany, the Christian-Stoic 'mirrors of princes' which now began to appear in all European languages - especially those with a Jesuit flavour — testify to the durability of Neostoicism. In the seventeenth century the writings of the political publicists played an important part in social life, arousing a great deal of interest and answering to a real need. In Germany such political writing finally led to the large number of tracts on prudentia civilis^ the literature designed for use by tutors at court, and the teachings on worldly wisdom of Christian Thomasius. All this writing had a pedagogical slant: it was designed to train up the princes and their helpers - ministers, civil servants and army leaders. The members of this ruling class had for the most part had an academic education before going into government or the army. They had attended grammar schools and universities in order to equip themselves for their careers. It is a striking fact that in the first twenty or thirty years of the seventeenth century chairs of politics were established in most important places of learning, almost always linked with other disciplines such as history, ethics or rhetoric.1 This represents a real transformation within the philosophical faculties. It was followed by another, half a century later, when the second wave of the Netherlands movement resulted in the creation of professorships in natural and international law. 1

This connection is not seen by H. Maier, ' Die Lehre der Politik an den deutschen Universitaten vornehmlich vom 16. bis 18. Jahrhundert' in D. Oberndorffer (ed.), Wissenschaftliche Politik. Eine Einfuhrung in Grundfragen ihrer Tradition und Theorie, Freiburg i.Br. 1962, p. 826°. For a critique of Maier's view of the overwhelming importance of Aristotelian political science in Germany in the seventeenth century see G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates, Berlin 1969, p. 120, n. 26.

90

The European echo THE NETHERLANDS

Let us consider first the University of Leiden, where Lipsius first made his mark and which was the centre of the Netherlands Movement. Lipsius' fame continued to radiate from Leiden, especially to Protestant countries. A recent investigation by Harm Wansink2 shows that in Leiden, until the middle of the century, the study of politics was closely connected with that of history and rhetoric. This is linked with the many mutually complementary teaching assignments of the professors. Scholars investigating the Dutch humanism of the period have concentrated on the philologists and their work,3 but Wansink's studies bring out the importance of historicopolitical study as a characteristic feature of Neostoicism. It was not just philology, but the concentration on political science, which made the Netherlands universities such thriving places of learning in the seventeenth century. With the writings of Lipsius and his school, the study of politics diverged from the strict Aristotelian path. Even if official academic policy required lectures to be based on Aristotle's Politics, the interpretation and elucidation was determined by the modern conception of the state. Dominicus Baudius taught at Leiden from 1603 to 1613. In 1607 he became professor eloquentiae and in 1608 professor historiarum. Daniel

Heinsius, whose career extended from 1602 to 1655, became the first professor of politics in 1612. Petrus Cunaeus was appointed as his successor in the chair in 1614 and occupied it until 1638, while at the same time performing other teaching duties. Baudius and Cunaeus were friends and pupils of Lipsius and acknowledged his authority directly. His influence on Daniel Heinsius was more indirect. Heinsius greatly influenced literary theory and practice in the Netherlands, Germany, Scandinavia, France and England. He also, however, lectured on Aristotle and edited the latter's Politics. All the same he maintained, like the Netherlands movement generally, that the politician could achieve nothing without experience and that philosophia and experientia belonged together - and by experientia he

meant history. He lectured on Tacitus, the 'dux prudentiae civilis ac magister unicus', the 'oraculum unicum prudentiae'. For Heinsius too, Neostoicism was central to his teaching and writing. Seneca, Tacitus and Lipsius remained the models of the Dutch philologists. It remained one of their tasks to study the Antiquitates Romanae. The famous grammarian Gerhard Johannes Vossius became professor of history and rhetoric at Leiden in 1622 and at Amsterdam in 1631. 2

3

H. Wansink, Politieke Wetenschappen aan de Leidse universiteit 1575- ± 1650 (with a summary in English) (diss.), Utrecht 1975. Rather than cite the standard handbooks on the history of classical philology, I refer the reader to the most recent significant article, J. H. Waszink, 'Classical Philology' in T. H. Lunsingh Scheurleer and G. H. M. Posthumus Meyjes (ed.), Leiden University in the Seventeenth Century, Leiden 1975, pp. 160-75. 91

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement One might regard Cunaeus as the real successor of Lipsius in the field of political science. Through him, and later through Marcus Zuerius Boxhornius, who was professor of rhetoric from 1633, political science drew closer to legal study. Both were also members of the faculty of laws. The lawyers regarded politics as a propaedeutic of their own discipline - though certainly not Aristotelian politics, which was lectured on daily by the philosophers. This disagreement is clear from Wansink's account, though he does not recognize or describe it. At all events, Boxhorn had himself put in charge of political disputations. In his Disquisitiones politicae of 1650 he himself collected sixty political questions, which he answered with the help of Roman history. He had already published his Observationes on Tacitus in 1643. We can thus see that political Neostoicism survived in Leiden in the first half of the seventeenth century and began to be orientated towards legal study around 1650. This development is nicely illustrated by the career of Ulric Huber. He studied politics at Franeker and then at Strasbourg, where he was taught by J. H. Boeder, the famous professor of eloquence and history. In 1657 Huber became professor of history, politics and rhetoric in Franeker. He began his lectures in the 1660s in the style and the spirit of Lipsius, as can be seen from his unpublished lecture-notes.4 Subsequently, however, he turned entirely to legal thinking; his masterly De jure civitatis libri tres, published in 1672, laid the foundation for the modern discipline of public law. Starting from the Grotian concept of the jus gentium, he created that of the jus gentium publicum or jus publicum universale. The new General Doctrine of the State included state institutions, though no longer on the basis of a moral doctrine, as Neostoicism had viewed them; instead, it evolved principles of law for the ruler and his subjects. Huber sought a chair in the faculty of laws and soon obtained one.5 The predominance of the Lipsian philologist-historians was over. Of course Lipsius was still praised, as he was by Huber in De jure civitatis, but different paths were now being trodden. In 1613 politics is mentioned for the first time as a subject in the matriculation rolls of the University of Leiden. Many students registered for it. Up to the end of the century 762 entered their names for the study of politics, sometimes in combination with jurisprudence, history or rhetoric. The real flood of students for this subject did not begin until after 1620. There were sixteen in 1622 and twenty-six in 1623. The figures reach 4

5

E. H. Kossmann, 'De Dissertationes Politicae van Ulric Huber' in European Context. Studies in the history and literature of the Netherlands presented to Theodoor Weevers, Leeds 1972, pp. 164-77, esp. n. 16. E. H. Kossmann, Politieke theorie in het zeventiende-eeuwse Nederland, Amsterdam i960, deals at length with Ulric Huber and describes the development of political science with reference to republicanism vs. monarchy. 92

The European echo fifty in 1641, but by 1661 they are down again to thirty-one, and after 1670 there is a big drop, probably because politics was now included in the new study of natural and international law. However, for over eighty years political science was a subject in its own right, attracting 707 students to the university to study it in the fifty years from 1621 to 1670.6 Among these were Swedes, Danes, Poles and Germans. During the Thirty Years War thirty-two students from Ducal Prussia studied in Leiden; twenty-one of them enrolled to study politics.7 These figures speak not only for the existence of the subject, but for its standing. In 1650 a young German nobleman studying at Leiden noted: ' Our classes are so arranged that in the morning we study mainly politics and Latin.' These were followed by geography, mathematics and foreign languages.8 At Louvain, his last university, Lipsius' professorship embraced Latin, history, and politics. His pupil Erycius Puteanus succeeded him in the same combination of disciplines, and this pattern remained unchanged up to Maria Theresa's reforms of 1768.9 Characteristically, Puteanus also published a work on military science. Another pupil of Lipsius was Nikolaus Vernulaeus, a colleague of Puteanus who later succeeded him. He wrote works of practical philosophy which were printed a number of times and collected under the title Institutiones politicae, morales et oeconomicae in

1646-9. These represented a conscious attempt to treat politics scientifically. As early as 1623, in his Institutiones politicae, he had criticized the moral 'mirrors of princes' and the theories of virtues, calling for a practical science of the state. With great intelligence he elaborated the political teaching of Lipsius. Following the line of the Counter-Reformation he conceded a role in state affairs to the clergy, allotting them the rank of'first estate'.10 The state doctrine which Lipsius had erected on a Neostoic foundation was adapted to suit the requirements of the Catholic monarchies of Spain and Austria. The outward form of his writing, the dropping of quotations and the idiosyncratic style, give Vernulaeus a claim to originality and independence. Topics which Lipsius had passed over - the social forces, the lower magistrature, the system of embassies etc. - are accorded detailed 6

7

8

9

Album Studiosorum Academiae Lugduno Batavae (1575-1875), Leiden 1875. The entries seem to be incorrect for some years, as might be suggested by the fluctuations for the numbers given for politics: 1639, 25; 1640, 2; 1641, 50; 1642, 23. K. Wolf, 'Preussische Studenten auf niederlandischen Hochschulen im siebzehnten Jahrhundert', Ekkehard 15 (1939) 65. Hundius to Calixtus, quoted by A. Tholuck, Das akademische Leben des siebzehnten jfahrhunderts 1, Halle 1853, p. 310. The holders of this chair are listed in V. Brants, 'Nicoles de Vernulz, publiciste 1583-1649', in L. van der Essen, U Vniversite de Louvain a travers cinq siecles. Etudes historiques, Brussels 1927,

pp. 84-97. 10

N. Vernulaeus, Institutionum Politic arum libri IV, qui omnia Civilis Doctrinae elementa continent, Louvain 1623, lib. I, tit. 1, 3, p. i8f.

93

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement treatment. The discussions consider the arguments and counter-arguments on all matters. The same style of presentation is observed in the political, religious and military dissertations of this pupils. However, the ideas and formulations of his master are so clearly to be seen ' que nous pouvons conclure a une filiation directe'. 11 Through the mediation of Vernulaeus, Lipsius' ideas exerted a strong influence on the conception of piety and the political ethic of the Habsburgs.12 But let us return to the northern Netherlands. The Arminians Gerhard Johann Vossius and Caspar Barlaeus were both teaching at the academy in Amsterdam from 1632 onwards. There is a Neostoic element in the work of both. When the young dukes of Mecklenburg and the princes of Liineburg came to Amsterdam, Barlaeus recommended Aristotle, Plato and Lipsius as the best teachers of politics. In particular, he recommended them to 'Politica Justi Lipsii perlegere saepius' because of the work's fine presentation and of the abundance and authority of the maxims to be found in it. 13 In his Dissertatio de bono principe Barlaeus referred to Lipsius as 'magnus ille et celebratus politicorum in hac Batavia scriptor'. His famous inaugural lecture on the Mercator sapiens, which gave the merchant prince a place in humanist moral philosophy, is characterized by its Lipsian eclecticism and gives a special place to the Roman Stoa. A proof of the flourishing state of political and constitutional studies in the Netherlands is afforded by the series of volumes,,about twenty in all, printed by Elzevier in Leiden under the title Res publicae. This was the world's first pocket-book series, appearing between 1626 and 1634 in minute format (2 inches by 4 1 inches) and designed for political instruction.14 The fine clear print is a joy to look at today. The series comprises descriptions of the political systems of different countries, with accounts of their laws and constitutions contributed by the best authorities such as Cunaeus, Boxhornius, Scriverius, Arnisaeus and Thomas Smith some of them doubtless simply reprints. This series disseminated basic information about all the states of Europe, including Russia and Turkey. One can be certain that the readership included not a few members of the international body of students of political science. Two poets of the Netherlands, H. L. Spiegel and P. C. Hooft, were 11

12

13

14

H. J. Elias, 'L'Eglise et l'Etat au X V I P siecle. Theories et controverses dans les Pays-Bas catholiques au debut du X V I P siecle, Revue beige de philologie et d'histoire 5 (1926) 911. A. Coreth, Pietas Austriaca. Ursprung und Entwicklung barocker Frommigkeit in Osterreich, Vienna 1959, p. i2f. on Vernulaeus. P. A. J. Dibon, L'Enseignement philosophique dans les universites neerlandaises a l'epoque precartesienne (1575-1650) (diss.) Leiden 1954, p. 2376*". Dibon seeks to show the predominance of Aristotelian philosophy. On Vossius and Barlaeus see Gedenkboek van het Athenaeum en de Universiteit van Amsterdam 1632—ig32, Amsterdam 1932. A. Willems, Les. Elzevier. Histoire et annales typographiques, Brussels 1880.

94

The European echo influenced by Lipsius' work on politics and moral philosophy.15 Spiegel had a direct connection with Lipsius through correspondence. Space does not permit a consideration of the connection between Joost van den Vondel and Lipsius, 16 and with regard to Grotius and to painting, a reference to the work of E.-L. Etter must suffice.17 However, one name must be given special mention - that of Peter Paul Rubens. Not only did Rubens leave posterity several paintings of Lipsius, but he also designed the very fine title page of the 1637 edition of his Omnia opera.1* Rubens sets Lipsius' portrait above a Roman arch, flanked by two large figures. The figure on the left, symbolizing Philosophy, gazes up to heaven and holds in her hand the two books Stoic a and Const ant ia. The figure on the right, representing 'Politica', looks down at the ground. On the columns of the arch are the busts of Seneca, beside Philosophy, and Tacitus, below 'Politica'. The whole picture is composed in accordance with the strict dichotomies taught by Peter Ramus - the style employed in the Politics - and symbolized by the figures of Minerva and Bellona, Commercium and Imperium, Philosophia and Politica. Rubens himself was not only an artist, but also a diplomat, and as such well acquainted with practical politics; indeed his life displays remarkably strong links with the principles enunciated by Lipsius concerning the art of living and the art of government. Even when planning a painting Rubens would write down detailed references like 'Lipsius exemplis politicis p. 199 \ 1 9 One of his works, which hangs in the Palazzo Pitti in Florence, is a self-portrait entitled 'The Four Philosophers'. The artist painted it in memory of his brother Philippus Rubenius, who died in 1611 in the prime of life. Philip had been a pupil of Lipsius and an esteemed philologist and jurist. In Louvain he had boarded with his teacher, together with Jan van de Wouwere who also figures in the painting. The painter himself joins them as the third pupil. All three are listening to the great humanist as he sits with an open book, expounding a text. Behind him stands a bust of Seneca. This is adorned by four tulips, two of which are closed, no doubt indicating that the teacher and his pupil Philip are dead. In the background is the city of Rome, symbolizing the spiritual landscape. Recent research on the age of the Baroque has demonstrated that the whole cultural history of the seventeenth century was founded on 15

16 17

18 19

J. F. Buisman, De ethische denkbeelden van Hendrik Laurensz. Spiegel, Wageningen 1935; F. Veenstra, Bijdrage tot de kennis van de invloeden of Hooft, Groningen 1946. A. M. F. B. Geerts, Vondel als classicus bij de humanisten in de leer, Tongerloo 1932. E.-L. Etter, Tacitus in der Geistesgeschichte des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts, Basle 1966, pp. 115-48. In the appendix are reproductions of the engravings of Vaenius, the illustrator and friend of Lipsius. H. G. Evers, Rubens undsein Werk. Neue Forschungen, Brussels 1943, pp. 326f., reproductions 189^ M. Warnke, Kommentare zu Rubens, Berlin 1965; W. Prinz, 'The "Four Philosophers" by Rubens and the Pseudo-Seneca in Seventeenth-Century Painting', The Art Bulletin 55 (1973) 410-28.

95

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement contemporary humanist learning, without which it is incomprehensible. The revival of Roman political ethics and the Roman concept of the state brought into prominence such concepts as authority, self-control, constancy, obedience and discipline. Seneca and Tacitus became authoritative figures in Baroque culture and the Baroque mentality, taking their place beside Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas. Not that this represented an entirely new discovery: from the beginnings of humanism schoolboys and students had encountered classical authors in their study of Latin, ethics, poetry and rhetoric, but now the subject-matter became topical, being applied to concrete political and moral questions of the present day, questions relating to basic human behaviour and personal conduct. The key concept in Baroque culture is const ant ia. The inconstancy and impermanence of life, the vanity and futility of all our doings, are fundamental to the Neostoic philosophy of history and the state. They recur in the lyric, the drama and the novel, reminding contemporary man of the inevitability of his own fate and of the role he is called upon to play in private and political life. There was hardly a German poet who had not been trained at one of Holland's famous universities or at least paid a visit to one. The Baroque literature of Germany - indeed of Europe - is unimaginable without the close links with Dutch humanism, with the rediscovery of Seneca and the enthusiasm for Tacitus - with Lipsius in fact. Daniel Casper von Lohenstein, for instance, cites Tacitus more than two hundred times in the notes to his dramatic works. The effect of Lipsius' Constantia on the seventeenth century can be measured not only by the large number of editions that were printed, but by the innumerable quotations from it in dramatic literature. Of course, when Stoic ideas are expounded, Lipsius is not always quoted, and he is certainly not always the immediate source. However, we do have one interesting testimony to his concealed importance. Martin Opitz, one of the leading German poets of the century, did not go back to Seneca himself: had he done so, he could not have credited him with opinions which belong to Lipsian philosophy in areas where it diverges from those of the ancient Stoa.20 THE GERMAN EMPIRE

In Germany too students wanted to study politics. David Mevius (1609—70) had studied at Leiden under Cunaeus, Heinsius and Boxhornius, and when he became professor of law at Greifswald in Pomerania, he was asked to teach politics too. He himself recounts that 'at that time many young noblemen were studying at Greifswald who showed more desire for the 20

K. H. Wels, 'Opitz und die stoische Philosophic', Euphorion 21 (1944) 9off.

96

The European echo study of politics than for the law and some of whom have since risen to high positions'. In 1636 he therefore began to give lectures on politics and explained the Politics of Lipsius in tutorials (in frequento collegio privatim). He then put together a few lectures on Tacitus.21 Political science had already been taught in Greifswald before 1636, chiefly by professors of history. In an effort to catch up with what was going on in the Netherlands and elsewhere, the Pomeranian university instituted the studium politicum, which was complemented by historical reading. Among the pupils of Mevius ' who later rose to high positions' was Otto von Schwerin, who later became a minister of the Great Elector of Brandenburg and who sent his son and namesake to study laws and history at Leiden. In Germany the political work of Lipsius remained a basis for lectures until the eighteenth century. Consequently there were important 'Lipsius schools' at German universities, and fundamental ideas for the development of a modern theory of government in Germany derive from his work. As in Greifswald, the new science of politics was closely linked with history. Although Aristotle's Politics was continually re-edited, being regarded by the authorities of all the churches as a fundamental text and used for university instruction, it was Lipsius' work which carried the day when it came to the practical training of statesmen. Also used were the works deriving from Lipsius, which were so numerous as to cause amusement in the Netherlands.22 Through the combining of history and pQlitics, what had been chairs of history became more or less chairs of political science. Jena too had a whole 'Lipsius school'23 which began with the professorship of Elias Reusner (from 1591 to 1612). So had Strasbourg, the leading university in Germany, where the chair of history was occupied by Matthias Bernegger, one of the most popular teachers of his day, from 1613 to 1640. He looked upon Lipsius as his lodestar24 and founded a school of politics in which future statesmen and administrators could make a systematic study of politics and statecraft.25 In 1617 he published Jfusti Lipsii Politicorum libri to provide material for the study of rhetoric. After the death of Bernegger,' to whom the ablest and most ambitious young men flocked from all over Germany, Hungary, Denmark and Switzerland' (as 21

22

23

24 25

Quotations from R. Stintzing and E. Landsberg, Geschichte der deutschen Rechtswissenschaft n, Munich and Leipzig 1884, p. ii3f. Pieter de la Court in 1662 made fun of this political literature appearing in Germany in the wake of Lipsius under the titles' Politica', 'Systema Politicorum', 'Doctrina civilis', 'Prudentia politica'. See E. H. Kossmann, op. cit. (n. 4 above), p. 168. For details of the Lipsius schools in Germany see G. Oestreich, ' Antiker Geist und moderner Staat bei Justus Lipsius (1547-1606)'. Freie Universitat Berlin 1954 (Mschr.). C. Biinger, Matthias Bernegger, Strasbourg 1893, P- I 3 i n °On the importance of the Lipsius school in Strasbourg for the political tracts of the period cf. K. Borinski, 'Ein brandenburgischer Regentenspiegel und das Fiirstenideal vor dem grossen Kriege', Studien zur vergleichenden Literaturgeschichte 5 (1905) 196-225 and 323-9.

97

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Biinger puts it), his son-in-law Johann Freinsheim published the Politics of Lipsius' ex instituto Matthiae Berneggeri'; this was a critical edition with a carefully compiled index, subdivided into paragraphs, and containing a list of all emendations; it went into another six impressions by 1704. In 1642 Freinsheim was invited by Johann Skytte, the chancellor of the University of Uppsala, to take up the professorship of eloquence and politics there. Skytte had founded the chair in 1628 at a time when professors of politics were being appointed elsewhere in Europe. Another pupil of Bernegger was Johann Heinrich Boeder; he succeeded Bernegger in Strasbourg and was professor there from 1640 to 1672. He wrote a treatise on the political world of Lipsius which was republished a number of times and gave rise to further disputations on Lipsius. His pupil Bose revived the Lipsius school at Jena in 1656; among its members we may count Sagittarius, Goetze, Slevogt and Lynker. Jena was one of the leading universities of Germany in the second half of the century; in fourteen separate years more students matriculated there than at any other university. Bose lectured on Lipsius over and over again,26 and in 1664 and 1667 he brought out a Synopsis politicorum Lipsii olim Argentorati proposita a M. Berneggero as a basic text for his lectures. Teaching at the university was always accompanied by the publication of corresponding text-books based on Lipsius' writings, either simply re-ordered or combined with texts by other authors. One such book, designed to prepare the student for his examinations, contained the Monita et exempla politica of Lipsius together with Boeder's Dissertatio de Politicis Lipsianis; it was dedicated to the student as 'politicae tironi'. From Jena dissertations on the Politics we know how Lipsian studies developed further. The most famous student of Jena was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. In 1689 he advised H. von Strathmann, the Austrian court chancellor, to include the Civilis doctrina and the Monita et exempla politica of Lipsius in the Emperor's new Bibliotheca Universalis Select a.21 Political teaching at the University of Altdorf, the highly regarded and populous academy of Niirnberg, was already conducted on Lipsian lines by Arnold Clapmarius before 1600, and later by Michael Virdung, a pupil of Reusner from Jena. The relatively well-preserved lecture-lists of the second half of the seventeenth century28 reveal the full range of the school of politics and natural law. G. P. Rotenbeck, who was professor of politics and logic from 1681 to 1710, concluded his lecturing activity with an 26

27

28

H. Kappner, Die Geschichtswissenschaft an der Universitdt Jena vom Humanismus bis zur Aufkldrung (Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fiir thuringische Geschichte N F 14, 3), Jena 1931, p. 7off. G. W. Leibniz, Sdmtliche Schriften und Briefe (Akademie-Ausgabe) Reihe I, Bd. 5, Berlin 1954, p. 440. Universitatsbibliothek Erlangen AUH 47, ab 1640 Stadtbibliothek Niirnberg Will 5. 319 A 4 0 .

The European echo exegesis of the Doctrina politica Lipsii, which extended over five years. In Helmstedt too we find a number of links with Lipsius. The famous professor of politics, Hermann Conring (professor from 1650 to 1681), was trained in the Netherlands. He propounded his own political doctrine based on Aristotle, but he called Lipsius the 'politicorum coryphaeus' and considered that his Politics towered above all other works on political science. Johann W. Werlhof, who was professor from 1686 to 1698, also used the Politics for his lectures. In the Helmstedt lecture-list for 1696-7 we read: *J. Werlhofius Politica Justi Lipsii dilucide & copiose exponet.'29 At the newly founded University of Gottingen the purpose of statistics as a university subject is defined in the words of Lipsius as' per notitiam rerum publicarum ad civilem prudentiam'.30 And at the Prussian University of Halle in 1741 the text-book on politics by Lipsius is said to be used by statesmen and to be the best general account (in generalibus).31 We see, then, from the new editions and commentaries, that Lipsius still lived on at German universities in the first half of the eighteenth century. It is a testimony to the supra-confessional character of his work that of the new editions of the period, one was dedicated to Frederick I of Prussia and the other to Maria Theresa, while earlier editions had been dedicated to cardinals and bishops, but also to Christian von Anhalt, the commander of the Evangelical Union. We encounter the influence of the Flemish humanist at both Protestant and Catholic universities. The modifications he made to satisfy the Inquisition after his return to Catholic Louvain made it possible for a prominent Jesuit like Possevinus to recommend the work for the ratio studiorum, the Jesuit syllabus.32 In 1620 another Jesuit, Adam Contzen, who was confessor and political adviser to Maximilian, the Elector of Bavaria, placed Lipsius beside Plato and Aristotle as one of the three great authorities on political science,33 and he followed Lipsius in his own influential work.34 Until well into the eighteenth century the Jesuits were Lipsius' most faithful followers. At Jesuit universities we find a number of new editions of his writings on politics and morality. The last edition of the Politics, published in Vienna in 1752, bears the name of the Jesuit professor Rechtenberg on the front page. To this day Lipsius is still generously represented in the libraries of the nobility in Bavaria and Austria, the two leading states of the CounterReformation in Germany. 29 30

31 32 33 34

Staatsarchiv Wolfenbiittel L Alt 37. G. Achenwall, Staatsverfassung der heutigen vornehmsten Europdischen Reiche und Volker im Grundrisse, 5th edn., Gottingen 1768, p. 38. Lectures of Joh. Peter Ludewig, Erlduterung zu des Herrn von Seckendorf Teutschem Furstenstaat, §3. A. Possevinus, Bibliotheca Selecta de Ratione Studiorum, Rome 1603, II, p. 78. A. Contzen, Politicorum libri decent... Lib. I, Cap. 1. E.-A. Seils, Die Staatslehre des Jesuiten Adam Contzen, Beichtvater Kurfurst Maximilian I. von Bayern, Lubeck 1968.

99

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement The influence of Lipsius can be shown also at the German courts. In 1592 an attempt was made by Duke William V of Bavaria, whose personal physicians corresponded with Lipsius, to attract him to the University of Ingolstadt. William's son, Maximilian I, imbibed Lipsius' ideas early in life, and when he wrote his political testament, the Monita paterna, in 1639, he leant heavily on the Civilis doctrina and the Monita et exempla politica. Dollinger has drawn attention to long passages which are virtually copied from Lipsius.35 Dutch learned works were on sale in the bookshops of Munich. The closest advisers and confessors at court, Adam Contzen and Johannes Vervaux, as well as the president of the court chamber, Dr Mandl, and the court chamber councillor Sebastian Sauerzapf, would no doubt all have concurred with the encomium of the Duke's physician, who wrote to Lipsius from Munich in 1601: 'Tu es parvulus Deus in hoc mundo.' Sauerzapf, in his library catalogue of 1609, notes Lipsius as 'chief and favourite author'. In the Monumenta Germaniae Paedagogica there are a number of references to the use of Lipsius' works in the schools and in the education of princes - for the Wittelsbachs of Bavaria in 1639, f° r the Wittelsbachs of the Palatinate in 1621, 1631, ca. 1640 and 1666-7. Frederick Augustus II, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland (1733-63), probably had a truly Lipsian education, considering the care taken over it by John Frederick Reinhard, who had revised the Politics himself and published them in two volumes with copious notes in 1702.36 In Catholic Austria, as in Bavaria, Lipsius stood in the highest esteem, with the Jesuits acting as the intermediaries and the custodians of Neostoic thought. The last editions of the Constantia, the Monita et exempla and the Politics appeared at Vienna in 1711, at Linz in 1703, and at Vienna in 1752. At the turn of the sixteenth century copies of his works were on the shelves of all the libraries of the Austrian nobility.37 The Ferdinandi Romanorum Imperatoris Virtutes of 1638, written by the Emperor's confessor Lamourmaini, has not been as carefully examined as Vervaux's Vdterliche Vermahnungy but there is no doubt that both were inspired by Lipsius. However it was the Lipsius of the post-1592 period, of the Monita et exempla and the systematic accounts of Stoicism, tailored to suit Catholic Christianity, the Lipsius who urged the princes to give signal honour to their priests and divines and to solicit their advice. The Habsburgs' conception of pietas was strongly influenced, if not determined, by Lipsius 35

36

37

H. Dollinger,' Kurfiirst Maximilian I. von Bayern und Justus Lipsius. Eine Studie zur Staatstheorie eines friihabsolutistischen Fiirsten', Archiv fur Kulturgeschichte 46 (1964) 227-308. Monumenta Germaniae Paedagogica xiv, 1892, p. 96; ix, 1890, pp. 127, 149, 174, 176, 343, 344 and 347; LII, pp. 553-83: see G. Oestreich, op. cit. (n. 1 above) pp. I3of., n. 56. J. F. Reinhard, Theatrum Prudentiae elegantioris ex Jfusti Lipsii politicorum erectum, Wittenberg 1702. O. Brunner, Adeliges Landleben und europdischer Geist, Salzburg 1949, p. 130. IOO

The European echo 38

and his circle. The central concepts of Neostoicism, dementia and constantia, given a Christian colouring, became central to the ethic of Habsburg administration for more than a hundred years - until Maria Theresa, who gave evidence of it in her political testament, her correspondence, and her actions. There are distinctly Lipsian features in a memorandum of an imperial ambassador at the beginning of the eighteenth century; its author was the highly educated Count Lamberg.39 The eighteenth century produced numerous surveys of the development of learning since ancient times; in all of them Lipsius' treatises are mentioned with particular approval. In his history of learning (Geschichte der Gelehrtheit, 3rd edn., 1728) the Jena and Frankfurt professor Stolle stressed the importance of Lipsius in thefieldsof history, moral philosophy and politics. Of the Politics he wrote in 1748: 'It is a pity that it deals only with the monarchic state. However, it is still one of the best compendia available on the subject.'40 Before this Stolle had devoted over twenty pages to discussing the collections of Lipsius' letters.41 In 1751, Gundling, a jurist at Halle, recommended the Civilis doctrina as ' one of the very best books', though he added: 'Today Lipsius' works are scarcely read, though they are far better than most of those by modern writers.'42 A century and a half after his death, the influence of Lipsius in Germany was played out. HUNGARY

The considerable effects of Dutch humanism on the cultural and political life of Hungary has been demonstrated by T. Wittman43 and T. Klaniczay.44 For the founding of Hungarian political science Lipsius had, so to speak, the status of a classic. In 1641 the Constantia and the Politics were finally translated into the vernacular. Many Hungarians ' who played a large part not only in Hungary's literary and cultural history, but also in her political life' were strongly influenced by philosophical and political Neostoicism. Among these were the most prominent Hungarian 38

39

40 41 42 43

44

A. Coreth, op. cit. (n. 12 above). H. Dollinger, op. cit. (n. 35 above) points to Neostoic influence in the Austrian mirror of princes Princeps in compendio of 1632. G. Rill, 'Die Staatsrason der Kurie im Urteil eines Neustoizisten (1706)', Mitteilungen des Osterreichischen Staatsarchivs 14 (1961) 317-29. G. Stolle, Kurtzgefasste Lehre der allgemeinen Klugheit, Jena 1748, p. 26. id., Kurtze Nachricht von den Buchern..., Jena 1737, pp. 751-71. N. H. Gundling, Einleitung zur rvahren Staatsklugheit, Frankfurt/Leipzig 1751, p. i7f. T. Wittman, 'A magyarorszagi allamelmeleti tudomanyossag XVII. szazad eleji alapvetesenek nemetalfoldi forrasaihoz. J. Lipsius' ('On the Netherlands origins of the basis of Hungarian constitutional literature at the beginning of the seventeenth century'), Filologiai Kozlony 1957,53-66. T. Klaniczay, 'Probleme der ungarischen Spatrenaissance (Stoizismus und Manierismus)', in J. Irmscher (ed.) Renaissance und Humanismus in Mitt el- und Osteuropa. Eine Sammlung von Materialien, Berlin 1962, vol. 2, pp. 61-94. A third article on the Stoic circle of Ecsed by Balint Keserii is announced as forthcoming.

IOI

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement poet of the late Renaissance, Janos Rimay (1569-1631). The works of Lipsius were particularly popular among the upper nobility. The military commander and poet Miklos Zrinyi (1620-64) had them on his shelves and quoted from them in his own political and military writings. POLAND

We may gauge the enduring popularity of Lipsius in Poland by the chronological spread of the translations. Such popularity is not surprising, seeing that the Jesuit order had great influence over Polish education. As early as 1595 the Politics was translated by a secretary of King Sigismund III; a new edition came out in 1604. Only a v e a r before the outbreak of the French Revolution a translation of the Monita et exempla politica appeared. This work was also translated into Russian in the eighteenth century. SPAIN

Let us stay in Catholic Europe and consider Spain, the centre of the Counter-Reformation. Lipsius had close contacts through correspondence not only with leading Spanish intellectuals like Arias Montano, but also with the youthful Quevedo. After the death of Philip II, he was naturally concerned about his position in Spain, as we see from the autobiographical letter of 1600.45 However, it was in this country that the Christianized brand of Neostoic philosophy flourished best, although the censor deleted offending passages in the translations of Lipsius' works, and in Gracian it found one of its leading exponents. As in the other Latin countries it is necessary to follow the reception of Seneca and Tacitus together in order to discover how the influence of Lipsius made itself felt. Interest in Stoicism and Tacitus, together with an avoidance of Ciceronian latinity, often go together with a direct study of Lipsius. The intensive research of the last ten years, undertaken by scholars working independently of each other, has greatly promoted our understanding of the Spanish intellectual scene.46 Lipsius is named relatively seldom, yet Bliiher has shown that' the Flemish humanist enjoyed the very highest esteem in Spain' and exerted a corresponding influence. 45 46

G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates, Berlin 1969, pp. 80-100. J. Gottigny, Juste Lipse et VEspagne {1592-1638), Louvain 1968; K. A. Bliither, Seneca in Spanien. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Seneca-Rezeption in Spanien vont 13. bis iy.Jahrhundert, Munich 1969; E.-L. Etter, Tacitus in der Geistesgeschichte des 16. und 17. jfahrhunderts, Basle 1966; H. Ettinghausen, Francisco de Quevedo and the Neostoic Movement, Oxford 1972; A. Rothe, Quevedo und Seneca, Geneva 1965. J. A. Maravall, La Philosophic politique espagnole au XVIIe siecle dans ses rapports avec Vesprit de la contrere forme, Paris 1955, notes the preference shown by Spanish political writers for the translation of Lipsius' Politics. 102

The European echo Quevedo, in his Politic a de Dios of 1619, came out in clear opposition to Lipsius and took issue with him directly, though without naming him.47 The most recent study of Quevedo and Neostoicism shows once more how much this poet and diplomat remembered the work of Lipsius, even at a later period, how deeply he was committed to his view of the world, and how far the disagreement with it went. The Doctrina estoica of 1635 was based - without acknowledgment - on Lipsius' Manuductio ad Stoicam Philosophiam, the first scholarly introduction in Spain, as elsewhere. Quevedo used the Paris edition of 1604, which Lipsius himself had probably sent to his 25-year-old correspondent. Quevedo, writing in the Spain of the Counter-Reformation, was of course unable to adopt directly Lipsius' objective quest for a reconciliation between Stoicism and Christianity, but adapted the Stoic ethic to Catholicism and used it as a model for Christian living.48 The same course was taken by Jeronimo de la Cruz in his Job evangelico, Stoyco illustrado; Doctrina ethica, civil, y politic a of 1638. According to the findings of Gottigny he relied directly on the Constantia and Lipsius' two accounts of the Stoa.49 The Spanish Jesuit Rivadeneira, as early as 1599, wrote a Princeps christianus adversus N. Machiavellum ceterosque hujus temporis politicos; he did not name Lipsius, but it has been shown that he used the latter's work as a model for his doctrine of the duties of a Catholic prince. ' Mirrors of princes' in the Lipsian tradition were not uncommon in Spain after the Politics was translated into Spanish. (The translation was the work of Bernardino de Mendoza, a well-known diplomat who had been ambassador in London and Paris; it appeared in an expurgated version under the supervision of the Inquisition.) Successful works of this kind are the Tacit0 espanol of 1614 by Baltasar Alamos de Barrientos, the most important systematizer of'Tacitism', who went back to the Tacitus studies of Lipsius; El Embaxador (1620), by Juan de Vera, who used the Spanish translations of the Politics and the Constantia (the latter had appeared in 1616);50 and the Idea de un principe politico cristiano representada en cien empresas, written in 1640 by Saavedra Fajardo, who subsequently represented Spain at the Peace of Westphalia. This work too was directly inspired by the Christian Stoicism of Lipsius.51 47

48

This is demonstrated in detail by A. Rothe, 'Quevedo und seine Quellen', Romanische Forschungen 11 (1965) 332-50. H. Ettinghausen, 'Neostoicism in Pictures. Lipsius and Quevedo', Modern Language Review 66

(1971) 94-100. 49 50

51

Gottigny collates the passages in a chart; Bliiher speaks of pages of copying. The texts are compared by G. A. Da vies, 'The influence of Justus Lipsius on Juan de Vera y Figueroa's Embaxador (1620)', Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 42 (1965) 160-73. See the chapter 'Tacitismus im Urteil der Spanier' in E.-L. Etter, op. cit.; also E. T. Galvan, 'El Tacitismo en las doctrinas poh'ticas del Siglo de Oro Espanol' in id. Escritos, Madrid 1971.

103

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Quevedo praised the great Spanish dramatist Lope de Vega in a eulogy as 'Lipsio de Espafia en prosa y Juvenal en verso'. Lipsius was cited by the Spanish moralists of Neostoic ' Tacitism' of the middle of the century, men like the Jesuit Juan Eusebio Nieremberg and Antonio Lopez de Vega. Gracian, however, became familiar with Lipsius at an early stage. The library of his patron Lastanosa contained not only a large number of Seneca's works, but two complete editions of Lipsius together with the Spanish translations of the Constantia and the Politics. It is no surprise that Lipsius is to be found also in the ideal library of the Criticon. Bliiher's interpretation of Gracian (pp. 394ff.) at last makes the almost complete agreement with Lipsius clear. Gracian's Neostoic doctrine on the education of a man of the world starts, like that of Lipsius, from a non-Christian concept, virtus, and calls for prudentia, the use of ratio and iudicium against false opinion and the emotions. Gracian's wise man approves the mixta prudentia of Lipsius, though the latter is not named. There was a constant affinity with Lipsius in the linguistic form of Spanish scholarship and creative writing in the first half of the seventeenth century. Quevedo and Gracian were masters of the new prose style, modelled on Seneca, Tacitus and Lipsius, and in their turn they became models for other writers.52 ITALY

The study of Tacitus flourished in Italy, as in Spain - at the time, Milan and the greater part of Italy were under Spanish rule. In the opinion of Momigliano it is impossible to overrate the influence of Lipsius on the Tacitus movement.53 Paschalius, the first Italian to write a commentary of Tacitus, had links with Neostoic moral philosophy. In Italy too the reception of Seneca went hand in hand with that of Tacitus. Lipsius was an authority on history and political science and remained such for a long time. Learning that Antonio Possevino, the seventy-year-old papal diplomat and Jesuit scholar, was preparing a large work on ancient and humanist literature, Lipsius wrote and congratulated him on his project.54 Naturally Possevino did not forget to allot a special place to him as a historian and political scientist in the incipient Bibliotheca Select a. The' prudens et magni iudicii vir' and his' libri de principatu' were singled out for praise. To prove the soundness of Lipsius' religious faith, Possevino gave an excerpt of 130 52 53

54

M . W . Croll, Style, Rhetoric and Rhythm, Princeton, N.J. 1966. A. Momigliano, ' T h e first political commentary on Tacitus' in Contributo alia storia degli studi classici e del mondo antico, vol. 1, Rome 1955, pp. 35—54 and 54-9. See also Momigliano's article 'Tacitismo' in the Encyclopedia italiana. Lipsius, 'Centuria ad Italos', Opera Omnia II, 1637, p . 62.

104

The European echo lines from the treatise De una religione, in which Lipsius had expounded his view that church and state should work together.55 Possevino's Bibliotheca Selecta was in constant use as a means of enlarging the ratio studiorumy the basic study syllabus which was responsible for the high level of humanist learning in the Jesuit order and for its role as a teaching order in many countries for two hundred years.56 Caspar Scioppius, a German living in Italy, systematized Stoic teaching on the emotions and moral living on the basis of Lipsius' two main works on the Stoa. His independence goes so far that he has been accused of plagiarism in his Elementa philosophiae Stoicae moralis of 1606. Later, in an unpublished work, Scioppius took issue with the Politics of Lipsius.57 FRANCE

Next to Germany, France was the country where Lipsius had most success, at first during the religious troubles and the work of restoration under Henry IV, and later at the time of Richelieu and Mazarin. In France the appearance of the Politics can be regarded as a real political event. Between 1590 and 1613 the French translation was issued ten times, and the Latin original had been printed five times by 1613 in Lyons and Paris. The shorter work, the Monita et exempla of 1605, w a s a l s o translated and read all over France. The figures speak for themselves, as do those for the French version of the Constantia, with twelve printings (the first in Leiden in 1584) up to the death of Henry IV. We also see here the large part which French played, beside Latin, as a language of culture. Lipsius, then, was widely known and widely read. In 1585 he was invited to become professor at the Calvinist academy at Beam in the kingdom of Navarre. He had close personal links with a host of Frenchmen. Henry IV tried several times to attract him to his court - and under very favourable conditions: he was to name his own stipend and to have no teaching duties. From the correspondence with the diplomat Jacques Bongars it is clear that the latter tried repeatedly to satisfy the King's wish. It is significant that the translation of the Politics, published one year after the Latin original, was dedicated to Saint Luc, one of Henry IV's most distinguished commanders. A recent scholar observes: 'The comprehensive catalogue of princely ideals drawn up by Lipsius is repeated in many variants; it is taken over into every tract, whether the emphasis is placed on the sovereignty 55

56

57

A. Possevinus, Bibliotheca Selecta qua agitur de Ratione Studiorum in Historia, in disciplinis in salutem omnium procuranda I, Rome 1603, P- I22ff. G. M. Pachtler, S.J., Ratio Studiorum = Monumenta Germaniae Paedagogica iv. 1894. On Lipsius see in particular pp. 86, 202, 206, 233. M. d'Addio, II pensiero politico di Gaspare Scioppio e il Machiavellismo del seicento, Milan 1962, p.

105

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement of the monarch or on representative participation, whether the intention is to provide the prince with norms of conduct or to secure him against resistance from his subjects.'58 Montaigne conducted a friendly correspondence with Lipsius. He also made intensive use of the Politics - ' ce docte et laborieux tissu' as he called it - in the final version of his Essais, borrowing from it more than twenty passages. Lipsius concurred with the Politiques, the third party in the religious wars, in their realistic attitude towards the basic ethical and religious question and also in the high value they placed upon reason. His Constantia^ which was translated by a secretary of Henry III, was at once applauded in these circles. In the Academie du Palais^ founded by the King, attention was paid to the connection between Stoic moral philosophy and Christian education.59 Direct successors of Lipsius were Guillaume du Vair and Pierre Charron. Du Vair published his own Traite de la Constance in 1594, drawing heavily upon Lipsius, and Charron, in his De la sagesse, evolved a secular Stoic doctrine of living which repeatedly borrowed from Lipsius. In the third book of the Sagesse he freely admitted to having taken his political rules from him; here we find also large numbers of shared quotations from Tacitus. In their works, which became, to quote Cassirer, a 'layman's breviary of ethical wisdom', Charron and du Vair affected the new Lipsian style, a style which not only determined that of the French moralists of the seventeenth century, but also affected treatises on political science.60 The influence of Lipsius even extends as far as creative writing and lasts beyond the middle of the century. The tragedies of Corneille, who was educated by the Jesuits, are from the start informed by the active Stoicism preached by Lipsius and du Vair - a Neostoic attitude which links him with the psychology and ethics of Descartes.61 Even in his very late play Othon (1664) Corneille has his statesmen speaking in concise aphoristic sentences to the extent that the play has been called a ' dramatized commentary on Tacitus'. 62 From the Stoic ideal of the wise man of action who acquits himself well in the world it is but a short step to the powerful hero with his ideal of gloire. Even Racine's Britannicus (1664) is indebted to Tacitus, as Stackelberg has shown. The philosophers of the period, pre-eminent among them Rene Des58

59 60 61 62

E. Hinrichs, Fiirstenlehre und politisches Handeln im Frankreich Heinrichs IV., Gottingen 1969, p. 70. The most recent treatment is by A. Levi, French Moralists, Oxford 1964. On style and rhetoric see M. W. Croll, op. cit. (n. 52 above). E. Cassirer, Descartes, Stockholm 1939, p. i n . J. von Stackelberg, 'Tacitus und die Buhnendichtung der franzosischen Klassik. Eine quellenkritische Studie zu Corneilles Othon und Racines Britannicus', Germanisch-romanische Monatsschrift N F 10 (i960) 390.

106

The European echo cartes, owed a great deal to Lipsius in the areas of ethics and psychology, and to the works of Charron and du Vair, who, in their turn had been influenced by him. Descartes was educated for eight years at the Jesuit college of La Fleche, during which time he became acquainted with the main works of Neostoicism.63 A number of links have been pointed out between his Discours de la methode and the Manuductio ad stoicam philosophiamy64 and the influence of du Vair and Lipsius has been recognized 'not only in the doctrine, but still more in the style and composition'.65 The socio-political orientation of Descartes' ethics and his doctrine of the passions (1649) likewise point to Lipsius and his school. Malebranche, the philosopher and admirer of Descartes, whose work De la recherche de la verite was published in 1674-5, *s sa id to be 'sometimes closer to Lipsius than to Descartes'. According to Levi (p. 337) the ninth chapter 'is very reminiscent of Justus Lipsius'. I do not wish to go through the moral writings of the theologians; Levi has fully documented their connections with Lipsius. Even Saint-Cyran admired Lipsius in his youth (Levi, p. i38f.). The political works of Lipsius had a strong and enduring effect in France. Pierre Jeannin, who was president of the parlement of Dijon and superintendent of finances and who died in 1623, pronounced on the usefulness of the six books of the Politics, remarking' that there was nothing in them that was not borne out by experience'.66 And so we find the work in the circle of Richelieu. French scholars have not yet paid attention to the links between Lipsius and political theory in the age of Richelieu.67 He is rarely mentioned in the work of Thuau, who, discussing the sources used by Naude, mentions Aristotle, Lipsius and Charron in the same breath.68 Gabriel Naude, in his Bibliographie politique of 1633, saw the basis of contemporary moral philosophy in the works of du Vair, Charron, Montaigne and Lipsius. Six years later, in his Considerations politiques, he dealt with the question of the coup d'etat and remarked that it had been discussed by Charron and Lipsius. However, it was not only Charron and Naude who took up the question oi prudentia mixta raised by Lipsius in the Politics: Philippe de Bethune's Conseiller d'etat of 1633, a particularly Cassirer, Descartes, p. 105. E. Gilson (ed.), R. Descartes, Discours de la methode. Texte et commentaire, Paris 1925, 3rd edn. 1962; id., Etudes sur le role de la pensee medievale dans la formation du systeme cartesien, Paris 1930. P. Mesnard, Essai sur la morale de Descartes, Paris 1936, p. 9ff. R. Pintard, La Mothe le Vayer— Gassendi — Guy Patin, Paris 1943, p. 74. W. F. Church, Richelieu and Reason of State, Princeton 1972, notes the strong influence of Lipsius on Charron (pp. 75-77) and suggests it for Bethune (p. 281). See also K. Siedschlag, Der Einfluss der niederldndisch-neustoischen Ethik in der politischen Theorie zur Zeit Sullys und Richelieus, Berlin 1978. E. Thuau, Raison d'etat et pensee politique a Vepoque de Richelieu, Paris 1966, p. 107

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement impressive example of the continuing influence of Lipsius and Charron, repeats the doctrine of prudence melee. In 1631 Jean de Silhon, Richelieu's secretary, published his book Le Ministre d'etat, which portrays a Lipsian minister of state. One can even go back to Richelieu's formative years. Both the anonymous tract VOmbre de Henry le Grand au Roy of 1615, designed for the education of Henry IV's successor at the instigation of Sully, and the treatises of Sully himself are rooted in the world of Lipsian thought on history and politics. Even the Calvinist theologians at the academies in Sedan and Saumur, Tilenus, Cameron and du Moulin, who were in other respects opponents of the 'turn-coat', supported their pronouncements on toleration with his arguments and formulations - often without naming him.69 The government of Henry IV, in its internal policies, conformed with the programme drawn up by Lipsius - a style of rule which aimed at the consolidation of state authority while employing the greatest moderation. As we know from his political correspondence with Aerssens, Lipsius fully endorsed the conciliatory steps towards pacification which the King began to take in 1590. Richelieu too, for whom Henry IV was a great model, seems to have been influenced by Lipsius. In his youth he had been close to the party of the Politiques, at whom the Civilis doctrina seems to have been aimed, and he lived in the Neostoic climate of his age. Anyone who studies the cardinal's practical policies and reads his political testament can discern the voice of the Netherlander. Central to Richelieu's political thinking and all his political conduct is the idea of reason and the man endowed with reason. Only if the prince acts with reason and justice can he count on his subjects' affection and willing obedience, which are more important than forced authority. Like every Stoic, the cardinal fights against the passions and emotions. He demands firmness and perseverance in action under the guidance of reason. Reason of state requires rewards and punishments. A distinction is made between clemency and severity in the face of rebellions, and between proper clemency and harmful leniency {Test. II, 4); such a differentiation is to be found in Lipsius' Politics IV, 8-10. Richelieu speaks of the danger that comes from flatterers (Test. 11,8); nobody warned more strongly against them than Lipsius. His views are perfectly paralleled in Richelieu's important chapter on the power of the prince (II, 9), which teaches that reputation is a vital prerequisite of authority, and that treaties must be honoured for the sake of reputation. The proposition that the power of the prince lies in the hearts of his subjects comes from Lipsius. The picture 69

H. Kretzer, Calvinismus und franzosische Monarchic im iy. Jahrhundert. Die politische Lehre der Akadetnien Sedan und Saumur, Berlin 1975; Julien Eymard d'Angers, Recherches sur le stoicisme aux XVF et XVIF siecles, ed. par L. Antoine, Hildesheim/New York 1976. 108

The European echo of the cardinal shows a statesman whose features embody self-discipline and moderation; such a man was described a number of times by Lipsius after 1589. Richelieu's library contained Lipsius' Omnia Opera (1614), the Constantia (1605) a n d the Monita et exempla (1613). SCANDINAVIA

We find a similar intellectual climate and similarities in the conception of the office of the sovereign in Sweden, the other country which aspired to the status of a great power. The close connection between Sweden and the Netherlands in the first half of the seventeenth century is personified by Louis de Geer, the famous merchant prince of Amsterdam, banker, industrialist, diplomat and one-time soldier, the Swedish mine-owner and cannon-king who made it possible for Gustavus Adolphus to gather and equip what was at the time a large expeditionary force to campaign in Germany. Even before Geer became a naturalized Swede in 1627 there had been very close trading links with Holland. There were military links too. Not only was Maurice of Nassau the great hero of Gustavus Adolphus: famous Swedish military leaders were trained in the Dutch army camp. Finally, literary and scholarly exchanges had developed between the two countries. The King and his chancellor Oxenstierna persuaded Grotius to join the Swedish diplomatic service; later Queen Christina gathered a circle of the most important Netherlands philologists around her - Nicolaas Heinsius and Isaac Vossius, Claudius Salmasius and Johannes Scheffer, all of whom were in Stockholm between 1648 and 1653. Among the German proponents of Lipsian politics, Johann Heinrich Boeder and Johann Freinsheim, both from Strasbourg, had particular reason to be grateful to the Queen. However, literary and scientific links had begun earlier. In 1614 Daniel Heinsius, who was head of Leiden University after the departure of Lipsius and the death of Scaliger, dedicated one of his works to the Swedish ambassador to the Netherlands, and two years later he dedicated his edition of dementis Alexandrini Opera to the King of Sweden. Two years after this he was appointed historiographer and councillor to the Swedish crown. From then on there were many Swedish students in Holland, some of whom later taught in universities. In his monumental work Monarchia Mixta of 1962, Nils Runeby investigates the political literature, including dissertations and even the smallest tracts, relating to the distribution of power between the nobles and the monarch from Charles IX to Charles X Gustav. He shows that Johann Skytte, the mentor of Gustavus Adolphus, member of the Riksrdd, president of the Court Council and founder of the University of Dorpat, 109

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement was a devotee of Lipsius' Politics, which he tried to promote everywhere, while Oxenstierna endeavoured to promote Althusius. Depending on whether the King's party or that of the nobles was in the ascendant, the universities were encouraged to treat either the monarchic doctrine of Bodin and Lipsius or the corporative theories of Althusius and Keckermann. Queen Christina, like her father Gustavus Adolphus, was educated for royal office by Lipsius. It is well known that Gustavus Adolphus, Axel Oxenstierna and Johann Skytte all took an interest in the training of good civil servants, and that they endeavoured to promote the science of politics and government. In 1620 a royal proposition announced a reform of the schools and universities to this end: in 1623 the best grammar school of the country, the Katedralskolan in Vasteras, acquired a special teaching post for ethics, politics and Swedish law. In the Netherlands Movement too Stoic ethics and political science went hand in hand with cultivation of national law; one might cite Conring with his Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte and Grotius with his Inleidinge tot de Hollandsche rechtsgeleerdheid. In the national university

of Uppsala, Johann Skytte, following the European trend, founded a chair of eloquence and politics. In 1642 he invited Johann Freinsheim of Strasbourg to occupy it, shortly after Freinsheim had published the critical edition of the Civilis doctrina prepared by his teacher Bernegger.70 Freinsheim was succeeded by another pupil of Bernegger, Johann Scheffer, who unobtrusively effected the transition to the second phase of the Netherlands Movement. In 1665 he took over the new professorship of natural and international law. Side by side with these two men another disciple of Lipsius was active as professor of eloquence at Uppsala; this was Johann Heinrich Boeder, the author of De Politicis Lipsianis, a work which saw several printings. The predominance of Dutch legal and constitutional thinking was given expression in the new university statutes of 1665, when a special professorship was demanded to represent the study of Grotius; this was six years before the first German chair of natural and international law was founded at Heidelberg for Samuel Pufendorf, who obtained the identical chair at the new University of Lund in 1670. Constitutional practice evolved in the atmosphere of Dutch constitutional theory. The Swedish king was the perfect embodiment of the purposeful but moderate prince. According to his biographer Ahnlund,71 his energetic and methodical disposition was combined with a training for restless activity and perseverance. Moderate in eating and dress, but laying emphasis on ceremony for the sake of reputation, with a firm trust in God 70

71

His predecessor, the second holder of the chair of politics at Uppsala from 1627 to 1642, was Johannes Loccenius from Holstein. He too had taken his doctor's degree at Leiden. Nils Ahnlund, Gustav Adolf the Great, tr. M. Roberts, Princeton, N.J. 1940, pp. 2Q.rT.

no

The European echo and a deep piety, yet at the same time tolerant, endowed with natural eloquence in civil and military dealings, Gustavus Adolphus equated his honour with work and the performance of duty, and saw his renown in steadfastness and courage - in the Roman virtus, as Ahnlund puts it. He enhanced the importance of his council, the Riksrad, and kept in check the power of the estates by dominating both the Riksrad and the Riksdag and subordinating them to his purposes. He meant his policies to be understood by the people, and so he gave reasons in the provincial assemblies for his tax proposals' by having read out convincing and usually detailed circulars', just as Lipsius had advised. With regard to the church, the King tried several times, but without success, to gain the right of general inspection the inspectio in sacra of Lipsius - with the help of a general church council made up of clergy and laymen. The church council was intended also to have control over schools, universities and printing houses. Swedish army organization has already been mentioned briefly. What Gustavus Adolphus personally wrote down about the organization of the national army with its territorial regiments, the first section of the ' army ordinance' of 1620, conforms with the Orange-Nassau model. The Swedish articles of war of 1621, drafted by the King himself, are distinguished from those of other armies by being mild and humane; they fulfil the Lipsian requirement that punishments should affect the soldier's honour, unlike the barbaric corporal punishments which were employed elsewhere. The purely military concept of deterrent discipline was thus replaced by one of educative discipline. The King also left a short, unfinished tract on ' the duties of the soldiers'. The attributes of the commander described in it are the four listed by Cicero and a fifth called for by Lipsius, namely providentia. Also in keeping with the Civilis doctrina, which expects the prince to take sides in a conflict between two powerful neighbours, is his forceful remark uttered during negotiations with the ambassador of Brandenburg: 'Neutrality? What sort of a thing is that? I don't understand.'72 Many attempts have been made to connect the political and military activity of Gustavus Adolphus with his Lutheranism and to discover the roots of his personal piety, but probably no convincing explanation has been found. Should one not adduce also the admittedly elusive influences of the Roman concept of the will and Neostoic pietas? Up to now it has been customary to contrast Calvinism and Lutheranism, the former insisting on the right of opposition, the latter on the duty of passive obedience. Such a distinction within European Protestantism prevents our seeing the full R. Koser, Geschichte der brandenburgischen Politik bis zum Westfdlischen Frieden von 1648, Stuttgart

1913, P- 434-

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement picture of the period and reaching a proper understanding of those dynamic figures who represented the entire Protestant camp. On the immense influence of the Netherlands on the culture of the Scandinavian countries there are two thematically self-contained studies, one relating to Sweden, the other to Denmark. The Swedish work of Wrangel73 confines itself to university affairs, clarifying the close links in the fields of constitutional science, history, theology, jurisprudence and medicine, and following the careers of those Swedes who studied in the Netherlands. A surprising number of high dignitaries, civil servants, staff officers, economists and scholars attended Dutch universities. Famous names of the seventeenth century like Skytte, Oxenstierna, Baner, Gyllenstierna, Horn and Rosenhane crop up. Almost half the professors who taught in Uppsala between 1640 and 1660 had studied in the Netherlands. When the Swedish University of Abo in Finland was founded in 1640, six of the eleven professors had been in Holland as students, and at the dedication ceremony Drost Stalhandske, a Swede, made his speech in Dutch. Of the first nineteen professors at Lund, eight had completed their studies at Leiden. Apart, however, from those scholars who had actually studied in Holland, there was a large number who had sat at the feet of members of the Netherlands movement at other foreign universities, especially in Germany, among them the royal librarians Fornelius and Freinsheim. In the scholarly circle of Queen Christina Stoicism was particularly cultivated, and in her Catholic period one still catches strong echoes of Roman Stoic literature.74 The work on Denmark and Holland edited by Fabricius, Hammerich and Lorenzen75 establishes that Denmark had no stronger and more important connections with any other small state of Europe than it had with the Netherlands. In Copenhagen, as in Stockholm, the most recent Dutch publications were offered for sale by the big publishing houses. Elzevier and Jansonius had their own bookshops. Elzevier's was in the Copenhagen stock-exchange. Here they printed special catalogues for the Danish and Swedish customer; in these one is struck by the wide selection of literature on practical philosophy in the widest sense — Grotius, Lipsius, Meursius and Vossius. The Danish study deals with the dependence of the country on Holland in trade and agriculture, architecture and painting, literature 73 74

75

E. Wrangel, Sveriges litterdra forbindelser med Holland sdrdeles under 1600 - talet, Lund 1897. Cf. also L. Gustafsson, Virtuspolitica. Politisk etik och nationellt svdrmeri i den tidigare stormaktstidens litteratur, Uppsala 1956. Gustafsson examines the importance of Lipsius for the problem of ethics and reason of state in Sweden ('Lipsismus'), op. cit., pp. 27-38 and 45ff. T h e Neostoic circle of Queen Christina has often been described up to Sven Stolpe; E. Cassirer does so in detail, op. cit. (n. 61 above), pp. 177-278. Cf. id., The Myth of the State, Oxford 1946, p. i66f., where he refers to ' the clear and unmistakable imprint of the Stoic mind' in the best-known books of this period and cites Lipsius as a model. Holland Danmark. Forbindelserne mellem de to Lande gennem Tiderne. Red. af Knud Fabricius,

L. L. Hammerich og V. Lorenzen, 1, 11, Copenhagen 1945. 112

The European echo and music, science and medicine, as well as the humanities; it does not go into the great influence of Holland in the military field under Christian IV. The King's encouragement of trade and industry and his reform of legislation and administration were also not without Dutch inspiration. Christian IV, Denmark's greatest king, founded an academy for the sons of noblemen at Soroe, and to teach history and eloquence there he obtained the services of Johann Meursius, a pupil of Lipsius from Leiden. Rantzau, the Danish governor of Schleswig-Holstein, was an enthusiastic admirer of the Constantia and conducted a lively correspondence with its author. We have already mentioned the fact that in 1589 Lipsius sent him two copies of the Politics for the instruction of the young Danish king. SWITZERLAND

Dutch influence on Swiss political thought in our period has recently been investigated by Frieder Walter.76 From the early days of Calvinism there were many and various connections between the two countries. The Reformed Church in Switzerland followed and supported the Dutch fight for independence against Spain, and Swiss mercenaries fought in the Dutch army. The spiritual impulses which originally emanated from the Confederation, and especially from Geneva, gradually ceased towards the close of the sixteenth century. Philippe Marnix of Sainte Ald^gonde, one of the closest friends of William of Orange, studied at Geneva; but now it was Holland, with its new universities, that was attracting increasing numbers of students from the Confederation. Between 1575 and 1700, four hundred and nineteen Swiss matriculated at Leiden alone. At first they came mainly from Geneva, but later the Bernese became more numerous, especially between 1630 and 1660. Citizens of Zurich and Berne who were civic officials, military men or academics are known to have possessed copies of works by Lipsius. In 1632 Hans Conrad Heidegger, a goldsmith by profession who also occupied various high administrative positions in Zurich, wrote a tract on 'How a ruler should conduct himself in government'. This at first circulated in a number of manuscript copies and was only printed a hundred years after its composition.77 The printer recorded that he happened upon 'a written book, outwardly unremarkable', whose contents so inspired him 76

77

F. Walter, Niederldndische Einfliisse aufdas eidgenossische Staatsdenken im spdten 16. undfriihen IJ. jfahrhundert. Neue Aspekte der Zurcher und Berner Geschichte im Zeitalter des werdenden Absolutismus,

Zurich 1979. Alt und Neues/ Regenten-/ Krantzlein, jWie sick ein Regent und /Oberer im Regiment, und in sei-/ner Regierung verhalten soil. / Demnach von Regierungs-/Pflicht, auch deren Kunst und Wiirde, /so dem Volck Gottes in der H. Schrifft/ und vielen treflichen Exemplenfrommer / und kluger Kaysern, Konigen, Fur-/sten etc. gezeiget wird. / Zu einer loblich-ruhmlichen Nach-/folg in dem muhesamen Wehrstand/ ans Tag-Licht gegeben. Printed by Hans Jacob Lindinner, Zurich 1733. 113

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement that he had it printed. Frieder Walter shows carefully and in great detail how strongly this so-called Regentenkrdnzli ('rulers' garland') was influenced by the Politics of Lipsius. It is obvious that there was a strong connection between the military reforms carried out in Zurich and Berne at the beginning of the seventeenth century and those of the Dutch and, later, the Swedish armies. In Berne Lipsius' constitutional ideas can also be seen at work. In this connection the discussions on Swiss defence were taken up again; the model chosen was that of the seven provinces and their military institutions. The innovations involved in the military reforms brought with them elements of modern constitutional thinking and a streamlining of the apparatus of government, while the discussion of defence promoted the idea of a possible subordination of individual interests to the common good. After his necessarily limited initial investigation, Walter concludes that the Netherlands Movement affected not only the monarchic states with their incipient absolutism, but also civic republics like Zurich and Berne. He also maintains that the familiar notion of exclusively French influence on the Swiss Confederation needs to be corrected: 'It was not', he says, 'just the theoretical constitutional tenets of Bodin that influenced absolutist constitutional thinking, but also the practical tenets of Dutch humanism even in the Confederation.'78 ENGLAND

Neostoicism, both philosophical and political, found its way to England; so too did the name of Lipsius - as a historian, a stylist and an expert on military affairs. The Const ant ia was translated no fewer than four times - in 1594, 1653, 1654 and 1670. The Politics appeared in English in 1594 as the Six bookes of Politicizes, dedicated to the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England, Sir John Puckering.79 Lipsius is known to have been a friend of Sir Philip Sidney. In 1603 he received some Latin verses dedicated to him by a former student of St John's College, Oxford.80 In 1606 George Thomson launched a heavy attack on Lipsius, condemning his switch of confessional allegiance and his late hagiographic writings in Vindex veritatis; adversus Justum Lipsium. But Thomas Hobbes, in his preface to 78

79

80

F. Walter, op. cit., p. 195. On pp. 159-93 Walter examines the emergence of the idea of penal servitude in Berne and Zurich as an aspect of * practical' political thinking. R. Kirk, in his edition of the translation of the Constantia published in 1594 (Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick, N.J. 1939), includes a history of the Constantia in England. The translation of the Politics was completed in 1593, as is proved by the preface dated 1 January 1594, i.e. four years after the appearance of the original. They are contained in Matthew Gwynne, Nero; tragedia nova, London 1603.1 should like to thank Mr P. Morgan of the Bodleian Library for this reference. In 1616 Lipsius was mentioned by John Hales in his funeral oration for Sir Thomas Bodley held in Merton College, Oxford. 114

The European echo the translation of Thucydides, stated that his opinions on history were formed largely by Cicero, Lucian and the Notae to the Politics of Lipsius. The contacts between Hobbes and Lipsius have so far not been fully examined, although to those acquainted with Lipsius some of the strict conceptual distinctions accredited to Hobbes - such as the one between inward faith and outward profession - seem to derive from a Lipsian dichotomy. Opinio is also a topos of Lipsius. Of the political sphere Hobbes says: 'The power of the mighty has no foundation but in the opinion and belief of the people.'81 Lipsius {Pol. IV, 8) had spoken of the 'affection and love for the king and his government' and the 'respectful opinion of the king and his government' as the foundation of power. The idea that freedom of thought is the privilege of a small minority links Hobbes, in the opinion of K. Thomas, with the Neostoics82 - and with Lipsius, whom he had studied. To judge by the books contained in the Oxford libraries, we may safely assume that Hobbes became acquainted with Lipsius during his time at the university. It is fairly certain that in the Oxford colleges there were forty-four works of Lipsius by 1600, in the Cambridge colleges fifty-five.83 The present stocks of the college libraries of Oxford - leaving aside the Bodleian Library - contain over two hundred Lipsius items, including at least twenty-eight copies of the complete works. Most of them were probably acquired in the seventeenth century (of course the dating of acquisitions is difficult) - an impressive total. How they were used in academic teaching is another matter, though we have two pieces of evidence from about 1655, the second indicating the end of the Lipsian epoch.84 From the second decade of the seventeenth century there are two works which bear clear marks of Lipsian influence. In 1613, Sir Robert Dallington, who worked in the chamber of Prince Henry (d. 1612) and Prince Charles (later Charles I), published in London his Aphorismes Civill and Militarie: 81 82

83

84

Behemoth, ed. by F. Tdnnies, London 1889, p. 16. K. Thomas, 'The Social Origins of Hobbes's Political Thought', in K. C. Brown (ed.), Hobbes Studies, Oxford 1965, p. 21 of. Thomas rightly insists that Hobbes belongs to the aristocratic or monarchic camp and rejects the notion that he is a 'bourgeois' thinker. The figures (which have still to be checked) were kindly supplied by Mr P. Morgan, whom I should like to thank for undertaking this investigation. He sent me a hand-written list, compiled from the intercollegiate catalogue, of the holdings of Lipsius' works in all the Oxford colleges. Thanks to the co-operation of the librarians of many colleges I was able to ascertain that many more Lipsian items exist. ' A library for younger schollers\ compiled about 1655, edited by A. D e Jordy and H. F. Fletcher (Illinois Studies in Language and Literature 48), Urbana, II. 1961, pp. 11 and 116. Cf. the review by P. Morgan in Modern Language Review 58 (1963) 3i8f. In Cambridge the Lipsian style was rejected and the Ciceronian maintained. See W. T . Costello, Scholastic Curriculum at Early Seventeenth-Century Cambridge, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass. 1958, p. 178, n. 36. For both the references I am indebted to Mr P. Morgan.

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement amplified with Authorities and exemplified with Historiey out of the first

Quaterne o/Fr. Guicciardini and dedicated it to the thirteen-year-old Prince Charles. His reflections on Guicciardini's history of Italy are stiffened with seventy-six passages quoted from Lipsius' Politics and another twenty from his other works, while Bodin is represented by thirty-three. The quotations from the Civilis doctrina are mainly Lipsius' own formulations; they include the famous passage on dissimulatio (Aphorisme XII = Lipsius, Pol. L. 4). Dallington here joins together the central propositions of Lipsius. In the preface he states that he has used Lipsius as 'soder' (= 'solder') for his aphoristic statements. Just as convincing and even clearer is the second example. The work known as The Cabinet Council may or may not have been written by Sir Walter Raleigh (1554-1618); it was first published under his name by Milton in 1658. What is more important is the fact this work, which was printed three more times, plagiarizes the Politics of Lipsius.85 Direct influence of Lipsius is to be found in Francis Bacon's Scattered Occasions. W. H. Greenleaf8 6 says:' Bacon's survey of the examples he gave is nothing if not reminiscent of Lipsius and Dallington and their discussion of commonplace axioms.' Bacon left us largely in the dark about his sources. However, of his knowledge of Tacitus it has been said that he was ' so familiar with his Annales that he was able at any time to weave sentences from them into his own account'.87 For the heading of the eighth book of his treatise De dignitate et augmentia scientiarum he chose the subtitle of Lipsius' Politics -'Doctrina civilis'. Bacon belonged to the tradition which went in for collections of aphorisms; he was the chief English exponent of the Tacitean or Senecan style, the so-called ' Attic prose' which is so closely linked with the name of Lipsius.88 However, the influence of Lipsius on Bacon, discernible also in the essays, has still to be investigated.89 Bishop Joseph Hall and Sir Henry Wotton were among the best-known 85

86

87 88

89

This was demonstrated as early as 1928 by Nadja Kempner, Raleighs staatstheoretische Schriften. Die Einfiihrung des Machiavellismus in England, Leipzig 1928. On pp. 83-6 parallels are adduced between Lipsius and the text ascribed to Raleigh. W. H. Greenleaf, Order, Empiricism and Politics. Two Traditions of English Political Thought 1500-1700, New York 1964, p. 226. Cf. pp. 52 and 112, where Lipsius is cited as a typical example of a collection of aphorisms and examples from ancient and modern history with a view to a political theory of order. E.-L. Etter, op. cit., p. 192. T h e impressive work by M . W. Croll (see n. 52 above) gives a detailed proof. See especially the essay on 'Attic prose: Lipsius, Montaigne, Bacon', pp. 167-202. For the many passages on Bacon see the index. E. Wolff, Francis Bacon und seine Quellen (2 vols.), Berlin 1910-13, establishes Bacon's debt to the individual classical authors b u t excludes Tacitus and Seneca completely. T h e equally important modern sources are likewise not examined. In the treatment of Epictetus (11, pp. i63ff.) there is no mention of Neostoicism.

The European echo English followers of Lipsius' style.90 And it has been shown also that Ben Jonson, in his Roman tragedy Sejanus of 1603, followed not only Tacitus, but Lipsius too; this emerges from a comparison of Jonson's quotations with the footnotes and marginalia of Lipsius.91 Finally we may mention two examples from the military sphere. Joh. Bingham edited Aelian's Tactics in 1616 and translated the Militia Romana of Lipsius (or at least parts of it) in 1623, giving it a highly topical relevance.92 Anyone who reads John Cruso's Militarie instructions for the cavallrie (Cambridge 1632, repr. 1968) will find on the very first page, in the preface to the reader, two quotations with references to Lipsius, one to his commentary on Polybius and one to the Politics. In the course of the up-to-date instruction on tactics, which rests upon the Orange reforms, the author cites Lipsius thirteen more times. The third work used by Cruso is the Poliorceticon.

We know that Milton, while a student at Cambridge in 1628 and 1629, read the Epistolae of Lipsius and made a thorough study of Seneca, presumably using the 1605 edition of the works prepared by Lipsius, as Fletcher thinks.93 Milton's works contain references to Lipsius.94 The high regard in which Lipsius was held in England at the end of the seventeenth century is shown by the entry devoted to him in Sir Thomas-Pope Blount's voluminous dictionary of scholars. Here he is described as follows: ' He wrote many things, all of which are excellent. Especially worthy of praise are his commentary on Tacitus, the Civilis doctrina, the Monita Politica, the Manuductio in Philosophiam Stoicam, the notes on Seneca.' There follow about forty-five quotations about him and his significance from the writings of Gruterius, Baudius, Grotius, Vossius, Heinsius, Scaliger, Casaubon, Conring, Bose, Naude and others. One could hardly wish for stronger evidence of his universal importance.95 90 91 92

93

94

95

M. W. Croll, op. cit., under Hall or Wotton. D . Boughner, 'Jonson's use of Lipsius in Sejanus', Modern Language Notes 73 (1958) 247-55. The Historie of Xenophon... Whereunto is added A Comparison of the Roman manner of Wanes with this of our Time, out of Justus Lipsius. Translated by Joh. Bingham, London 1623. See M. J. C. Cockle, A Bibliography of Military Books up to 1642, London 1957, p. 79. I have unfortunately not been able to consult Bingham's translation. H. F. Fletcher, The Intellectual Development of John Milton, vol. 2, Urbana, II. 1961, pp. 425f. and 459. On p. 600 Fletcher gives a list of the works of Lipsius in Christ's College, Cambridge. The short title 'de Magistrat' is wrongly identified: it refers not to the Six bookes of politicises of 1594, but to De magistratibus veteris populi romani, which first appeared in Cambridge in the Tractatus ad historiam romanam. Cf. Van der Haeghen, Bibliographic Lipsienne 11, Gent 1886, pp. 8yff. For example The Works of John Milton, ed. by F. A. Patterson, vol. 12, p. 176: 'quod ait Lipsius'. The index to the Columbia Edition of the Complete Works contains many quotations from Tacitus. The history of the rediscovery of Tacitus in England has still to be written. It probably ought to clarify the role of Lipsius. E.-L. Etter, op. cit., p. 194, states that Lipsius had hardly any influence on English intellectual life, although he corresponded with a number of Englishmen. This is incorrect and even ignores the older findings of Croll. Sir Thomas-Pope Blount, Censura celebriorum authorum, London 1690, pp. 591-4; 117

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia During our examination of the first phase of the Netherlands Movement, one thing has so far become clear: in various parts of Europe and in different political and religious camps, such men as Henry IV and Oldenbarneveldt, Richelieu and Gustavus Adolphus, the princes of Orange-Nassau and Maximilian of Bavaria were linked by their adherence to Stoic ideas and ideals. Even if they came into conflict with one another, they can be seen as constituting a group of statesmen agreed on certain modes of political thought and action. They were united by principles which combined prudentia {ratio) and virtus, civil and military institutions, political discipline and asceticism. A generation later these men were joined by the Elector Frederick William of Brandenburg and his collaborators, for the Netherlands Movement exercised a decisive influence on the spirit and evolution of the Prussian state for more than a century. Holland, at the high point in its history, was the educational centre of Europe. From Germany alone nineteen thousand students attended the Dutch universities and consequently not only enriched German cultural life, but also benefited the Prussian state and its economy by the knowledge they had acquired abroad.l At first is seems surprising that even the military state of Prussia should have been influenced by the bourgeois and far from military republic of the Netherlands. However, the bourgeois image of the republic is not appropriate to its history during the eighty years of war, nor is the one-sided picture of Prussia as a land without culture entirely just. For BrandenburgPrussia, as for other European states, the Netherlands served as a model in the commercial, military, cultural and economic spheres.2 Before it was realized how important the humanism of the late sixteenth 1

2

H. Schneppen, Niederldndische Universitdten und deutsches Geistesleben von der Grundung der Universitdt Leiden bis ins spate 18. Jahrhundert, Miinster i960; H. Schdffler, Deutsches Geistesleben zwischen Reformation und Aufkldrung. Von Martin Opitz zu Christian Wolff, 2nd edn., Frankfurt 1957; E. Trunz, Dichtung und Volkstum in den Niederlanden im 17. jfahrhundert. Ein Vergleich mit Deutschland und ein Uberblick u'ber die niederldndisch-deutschen Beziehungen in diesem Jahrhundert, Munich 1937. This topic is treated more fully in my article * Calvinismus, Neustoizismus und Preussentum', Jahrbuchfiir die Geschichte Mittel- und Ostdeutschlands 5 (1956) 157-81, which should be consulted for further details.

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia century was for practical political and military life, scholars linked the great transformation of Prussia into an active, dynamic state solely with the introduction of Calvinism. Droysen, and later Hintze (confirmed in his views by Max Weber's research on the sociology of religion) saw the Calvinist religion as the sole factor in the change - as the bridge which led to the new political dynamism of Brandenburg in the seventeenth century.3 The establishment in 1604 of the first permanent governmental body for Brandenburg, the privy council in Berlin, the adoption of Calvinism in 1613 by the Hohenzollerns, the court and the ruling elite, the appointment of Reformed professors from 1614 onwards at Frankfurt on the Oder — all these were seen by the scholars we have mentioned as visible steps in the direction of what Droysen called the ' larger and more vital outlook' of the Netherlands. It is common today, especially in America, to look at political and economic developments chiefly from the viewpoint of the sociology of religion. This strikes me as too narrow, however highly one rates theology and the churches as cultural and spiritual forces in the seventeenth century. Only if one includes Dutch humanism, and in particular the ideology of Neostoicism with its political and military ingredients, can one fully comprehend the process by which the old imperial territory of Brandenburg was transformed politically and socially into a powerful modern state. The intrusion of humanist political science and the Neostoic view of the state propagated an ethic tinged with asceticism, which enjoined willing performance of duty. It fostered active political commitment and the creation of a state on the Roman model, supported by the bureaucracy and the military. In 1605 the Elector Joachim Frederick concluded an alliance with the States General of the United Provinces. At this time there was also a variety of academic contacts with Dutch humanism. In the first edition of the second collection of a hundred letters written by Lipsius in 1591 we find one addressed to the humanist Franz Hildesheim, the Elector's personal physician. Works by Lipsius were being issued by printing houses on the Elbe, the Spree and the Oder; in 1599, for instance, there appeared in the archbishopric of Magdeburg, which was ruled over by the Hohenzollerns, a collection of pieces from his major writings on practical philosophy, the Politics and the Constantia, under the title Flores totius philosophiae Justi Lipsii. Six years later another selection came out. It was dedicated to the former chancellor of Brandenburg, Christian Distelmeier, who was adviser to the electoral prince John Sigismund. The dedicatory verses to the Melleficium of 1605 show that the educated middle class of Berlin, the 3

J. H. Droysen, Geschichte der preussischen Politik n, 2, Leipzig 1859, p. 436. O. Hintze, 'Calvinism and Raison d'Etat in Early Seventeenth-Century Brandenburg', in F. Gilbert (ed.) The Historical Essays of Otto Hintze, New York 1975, pp. 88—154. The notion of a 'bridge' occurs on p. 153. 119

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement electoral councillors, court notaries and, it is worth noting, the masters of the grammar school, were actively engaged in propagating humanist and Neostoic ideas. At the Brandenburg university of Frankfurt on the Oder, as at other German universities, the Lipsian doctrine of the state was being taught. Cyriacus Herdesianus, who was professor from 1618 to 1631, had studied in Holland and published his first works there in 1613. In 1612 a publisher in Frankfurt brought out the main work of political Neostoicism. This was undoubtedly intended for political instruction at the academy, and new impressions appeared every year in western Europe - there had by then been twenty-two editions of the Latin and two German translations. Even before the Elector officially went over to the Calvinist confession, a new generation of statesmen and civil servants was being educated in the spirit of Neostoic ethics and constitutional theory at the local university of Brandenburg. The later relations between the ruling house and the Netherlands have often been described. Frederick William, the Great Elector, who ruled from 1640 to 1688,4 became acquainted with Dutch culture and politics from the point of view of a stadholder, at the Orange court and in Frederick Henry's military camp. The experience of the Dutch state in its military, economic and cultural prime left a lasting impression on him. Here he met the most admired scholars of Europe, high-ranking officers ajid Dutch diplomats. Throughout his life the Elector maintained close personal and intellectual ties with the Netherlands. These were reinforced by his marriage to Luise Henriette, the daughter of Prince Frederick Henry of Orange. His capital, Berlin, acquired a noticeably Dutch air, not only in its outward appearance, but also in its ethos. Frederick William regarded Holland as a model by virtue of its economic, financial, commercial and colonial policy. Through his lieutenant governor in Cleves, John Maurice of Nassau-Siegen, who had earlier conquered Brazil for the States General, he collected the writings of the princes of Orange-Nassau.5 He always cultivated the intellectual connections too. Representatives of the Netherlands movement became official historians or university teachers. His personal physicians (who as humanist advisors were increasingly replacing the theologians in the seventeenth century) had studied at Dutch universities or were themselves Dutchmen. One of them, Cornelius Bontekoe, was a pupil of Arnold Geulincx; he also taught at Frankfurt on the Oder. Most of the Calvinist 4

5

See the most recent biography, Ernst Opgenoorth, Friedrich Wilhelm. Der Grosse Kurfurst von Brandenburg. Eine politische Biographie, 2 vols., Gottingen 1971 and 1978. See also my short biography, G. Oestreich, Friedrich Wilhelm, der Grosse Kurfurst (Personlichkeit und Geschichte 65), Gottingen 1971. See O. Meinardus, ' Eigenhandige Briefe des Grossen Kurfiirsten an Johann Moritz von Nassau', Forschungen zur brandenburg-preussischen Geschichte 19 (1906). 120

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia court preachers too had received their main academic training in Holland or had been there to complete their studies.6 Almost everybody in the Elector's entourage either came from the Netherlands or had been educated there. Reading the personal testimony of the Elector, notably his Political Testament of 1667,7 one encounters the Dutch philosophy of the state in a conservative guise. Having his own army he saw as an indispensable basis of power; treaties alone did not afford security. Wholly in keeping with the doctrine of state power, which advocates an active policy and rejects neutrality in major conflicts, the Political Testament comes out in favour of armed intervention in war. The need for the prince to govern in person is strongly emphasized; this was called for by the Dutch, in keeping with the keen Stoic sense of duty and the importance of work. Similar prominence is given to the effort to obtain unrestricted authority, but also honour and fame. The new dynamic political outlook and its underlying principles come out even more strongly in the project for acquiring Silesia, conceived at the beginning of 1670.8 Here Frederick William declares it to be a sovereign's duty to take advantage of every opportunity in foreign policy; he must not allow the propitious hour to pass without making use of it, but must reap the benefits which the circumstances have to offer. This is the very spirit of power politics and reason of state. However, the Dutch influence may be discerned not only in the Elector himself and his personal entourage, but also in his bureaucracy.9 Nikolaus Ernst von Platen, the founder and first head of the Brandenburg General War Commissariat, a body which is characteristic of the country's administration and economic development, studied at Leiden and took his doctor's degree at Groningen. Paul Fuchs, who was, so to speak, the first minister of education in Brandenburg-Prussia and one of the founders of Halle University, studied at Leiden and Franeker and then taught Dutch natural law at the University of Duisburg before entering the immediate service of Frederick William. A number of other high officials received all or part of their academic education in Holland. The governor of East Prussia, Prince Boguslaus Radziwill, studied mathematics and the science of fortifications at Groningen and Utrecht, and afterwards fought in the army of Frederick Henry of Orange.1 ° Count von Waldeck had also been in Dutch service; his famous memoranda are the first writings of their kind 6

7

9

10

R. von Thadden, Die brandenburg-preussischen Hofprediger im 17. und 18. Jfahrhundert. Ein Beitrag zur absolutistischen Staatsgese Use haft in Brandenburg-Preussen, Berlin 1959. G. Kuntzel and M. Hass (edd.), Die politischen Testamente der Hohenzollern, 2nd edn., Leipzig/ 8 Berlin 1919, pp. 41-69. ibid., pp. 70-8. T h e careers of the persons mentioned here are summarized in the Allgemeine Deutsche Biographie (ADB) and the Neue Deutsche Biographie (NDB). J. Jacoby, Boguslaus Radziwill. Der Statthalter des Grossen Kurfursten in Ostpreussen, 2nd edn.,

Marburg 1959, p. 13. 121

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement to be imbued with the active spirit of Dutch political teaching which we later find exemplified in the words and actions of the Elector himself. Meanwhile the political thinking and moral philosophy of the Netherlands Movement had been making headway at certain German universities, notably Strasbourg, Helmstedt, Altdorf (Niirnberg), Heidelberg and Jena. These places figure in the curricula vitae of senior Prussian bureaucrats. Of the five men who headed the General War Commissariat in the seventeenth century, N. E. von Platen studied at Leipzig, Rostock, Leiden, Groningen and Orleans, F. Meinders at Strasbourg, B. von Gladebeck at Helmstedt, J. E. von Grumbkow at Rostock, and D. L. Danckelman at Heidelberg. In the funeral oration for Platen it was said that at Leiden he enquired ' most diligently about the proper position of the churchman and the politician'. The Elector also sent the sons of his officials to be trained abroad, i.e. in the Netherlands, at his own expense. Isolated details have been known about these connections, but they have still to be investigated systematically. The extent to which the Elector himself was behind this scheme of study is shown by his conversation with Graevius, the well-known Utrecht philologist, who reported it.11 The introduction of Dutch political doctrine led to the appearance of the first German textbooks on the subject. An immediate success was the Arcana Imperii of Arnold Clapmarius, professor of history and politics at Altdorf, which appeared posthumously in 1605. In i66§ Martin Schoockius, historiographer to the Great Elector and professor at Frankfurt on the Oder, re-edited this book with typical additions and a dedication to the privy councillors of Brandenburg. The preface, headed Politicus Piusy describes the attributes of a statesman in the words of Lipsius. The definitions of constantia and pietas are taken over word for word, though Schoockius does not acknowledge his source. Before being employed in Brandenburg, Schoockius, a Dutchman, had been a professor in Holland (at Utrecht and Groningen) from 1638 to 1664. Also with him at Frankfurt was his son Isaac, who had been professor of ethics and politics since 1665. While still in the Netherlands, Schoockius had given a lecture on the Politicus Pius. If we follow up this case, we find August Hermann Francke, the founder of Prussian pietism at Halle, invoking the doctrine of the Politicus Pius. In 1672 the next holder of Schoockius' chair, Martin von Kempen, asked the Great Elector for the title of historiographer with the words: 'The title of historiographer is an honour which learned people receive as a favour from august heads, as Lipsius did long ago from the King of Spain and Isaac Vossius in our own day from the gentlemen of the States General in the Netherlands'.12 11 12

J. Graevius, Lucianis Samosatensis Opera, Amsterdam 1687, p. 6v. (dedication to the Elector). E. Fischer,' Die offizielle brandenburgische Geschichtsschreibung zur Zeit Friedrich Wilhelms, des Grossen Kurfursten', Zeitschrift fur preussische Geschichte 15 (1878) 378. 122

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia In 1675, the year of Brandenburg's famous victory at Fehrbellin, the complete works of Lipsius were printed at Wesel, in the Elector's territory. A year earlier the same printer had brought out the Monita et exempla, this being the fortieth edition of the work. He dedicated the Omnia Opera to the electoral prince of Brandenburg and drew special attention to the importance of the military and political parts. This inexpensive edition was intended to help in disseminating the thoughts of'the great Lipsius'. His works should be found not only in the libraries of the magnates and scholars, but in the hands of all students: 'From my printing house it goes out to the people' {Ex officina mea in vulgus exit). Goethe's father had a copy of this edition of the complete works in his library. At the beginning of the eighteenth century another Lipsius print was dedicated to Frederick I, who had meanwhile been crowned king. A Berlin and a Wittenberg printer brought out a two-volume quarto edition of the Politics with an extravagantly long commentary and additions under the significant title Theatrum prudentiae elegantiorisy an allusion to the 'elegant' jurisprudence of the Netherlands Movement. An engraving on the title page shows the modern state supported by four pillars, Militia, Justitia, Religio and Politica - a characteristic representation of Prussia's position and the way she saw herself. Shortly before his death the Great Elector appointed Samuel Pufendorf as historiographer and privy councillor. Pufendorf was a celebrated thinker in the field of natural law, a leading figure in the Netherlands movement and the intellectual successor to Grotius. Having completed his studies at Leiden, Pufendorf had gone to Heidelberg in 1661, as has been mentioned, to take up the first German chair of Grotian natural law, and from there he had moved to Uppsala. Pufendorf was not a jurist, but rather a social philosopher and a writer on history and politics. Accordingly he evolved a doctrine of the state which measured up to Dutch thinking: he favoured a moderate form of absolutism and a strong state, but its ruler should be bound by ethical principles. Pufendorf subscribed to Stoic teaching on the duties of the prince and his subjects. He distinguished strictly between the religious and political spheres. The New Testament says nothing about government and the duties of the ruler. These are regulated by the law of nature, which forbids arbitrary rule and any exploitation of the ruler's office for personal ends, and which requires him to act on behalf of the subject. Restrictions on the prince's power are determined by the concept of duty. However, the subject too has obligations towards the ruler; these require him to devote himself to the community, and to the prince, who guards its interests. Pufendorf's De jure naturae et gentium of 1672 and his De officio hominis et civis of 1673

were very influential, not only in Sweden and Germany, but throughout Europe. If one was up to date one had to know Pufendorf. In the 123

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement universities the normal teaching programme included two or three lectures a term on Pufendorf's De officio. Pufendorf died six years after moving to Berlin. His pupil Christian Thomasius was a notable teacher at the new Prussian university of Halle and developed his ideas.13 It was not just the ruling house that brought the new vocational and constitutional ideas to Brandenburg-Prussia: also instrumental were a large number of energetic advisers - ministers and educators. The bureaucrats and the personal physicians have already been mentioned. Among those who played a particular part in transmitting Dutch ideas were the Dohna, a family of East Prussian nobles whose role was like that of the Skyttes in Sweden. At the beginning of the seventeenth century Abraham von Dohna, a close adviser of the Elector John Sigismund, had received his military training under Maurice of Orange, as had his brothers and cousins, and taken advantage of all the educational opportunities available in the Netherlands.14 To him we owe the only extant catalogue of Prince Maurice's library. In his own library in the castle of Schlobitten in East Prussia he had separate editions of almost all the works of Lipsius, the Politics and its Catholic revision, the Monita et exempla of 1605 which is the continuation of the Politics, the Const antia, the Militia Romana and the Poliorceticon as well as the editions of the Roman historians.15 Also on his shelves were the writings of Baudius, Heinsius, Philip Marnix, Merula, Meursius and others. As a privy councillor of Brancjenburg and an army colonel he redrafted the military plans of the chancellor Distelmeier in the spirit of national power politics.16 This man's considerable influence was a very significant factor in the Elector's conversion to Calvinism. Abraham's brother Christoph was also an uncommonly gifted man. He had studied at the Calvinist university of Heidelberg under Janus Gruterus, a pupil and friend of Lipsius, and in 1617 he became one of the founders of the famous Fruchtbringende Gesellschaft ('Fruit-bringing Society') of Anhalt. This society was concerned with the cultivation of the German language, but it also stood for modern political ideas and Protestant toleration in Germany. Other language societies came into existence, taking their model from the Dutch Rederijkerkamers. The name of one was Constantia and its motto Semper constans. To these politico-philosophical associations belonged not a few members of the ruling house of Brandenburg and the progressively minded nobility. The Fruchtbringende Gesellschaft 13

14

1s

16

On Pufendorf and Thomasius cf. E. Wolf, Grosse Rechtsdenker der deutschen Geistesgeschichte, 3rd edn., Tubingen 1951, pp. 306-420. Lothar Graf zu Dohna, 'Die Dohnas und Schlobitten', in Carl Grommet, Christina von Mertens and others, Das Dohnasche Schloss Schlobitten in Ostpreussen, Stuttgart 1962, p. 374ff. with literature. H. Schellhorn, Biicherverzeichnis der Majorats-Bibliothek Schlobitten, privately published by Julius Sittenfeld, Berlin 1858. Memorandum on the reorganization of the army in Brandenburg, 1615. 124

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia had close personal contacts with the circle of the princes of Orange and with Dutch scholars. Christoph's son, Christian Albrecht von Dohna, a cousin of Luise Henriette, the wife of the Great Elector, was governor of Kustrin and a lieutenant-general. He endeavoured to reinforce the spirit of the Dutch army reforms in the new army of Brandenburg. Christoph's nephew, Alexander zu Dohna, became principal tutor to the crown prince, Frederick William, later known as the 'soldier-king'. This switching between political and military roles is typical of almost all the Dohnas and is an indication of the influence of the Dutch outlook. His scrupulously precise and soldierly sense of duty and his methodical, ascetic life had a profound effect on the attitude of the future king.17 This brings us to the question of the military in Prussia. In its spirit, organization and discipline the army of Brandenfrurg-Prussia was deeply indebted to the model of the Dutch army, to humanist learning and to the military practice evolved by the princes of Nassau. Here too the influence was partly direct and partly indirect. The example of the Dohnas can be matched by examples of other Brandenburg officers who had previously seen active service in Holland. In 1665 E. Hoyer, the Auditor General, brought out his authoritative commentary on the military law of Brandenburg. Hoyer relies generally on legal literature only, but on six occasions he invokes the Militia Romana of Lipsius, as in his forceful description of the deep religious respect the Romans had for their battle-standards. In 1656 the Great Elector adopted Swedish military law in the form of those articles of war which Gustavus Adolphus drew up in 1621 on the model of the earlier Dutch articles. The articles of war which were introduced into the Brandenburg army in 1656 remained in force right up to the reform of 1713, and they continued to be binding after that on the other ranks. The first drill regulations of the Brandenburg army, dating from 1654-5, w e r e based directly on the Dutch system of commands.18 In the time of Frederick William I we still find interesting affinities with Roman stoicism. The King had the military regulations of the Spaniard Sala y Abarca translated and a copy issued to each of his officers. The publisher's preface is written in the spirit of Stoicism and natural law, and this is endorsed by the emblems depicted on the title page: on a column decked with regimental colours and weapons is set the resplendent figure of the monarch, at his feet the Order of the Black Eagle with the motto Suum cuique, which comes from Roman law. On the panel in front, in large letters, are the words Omnis inferro est Salus. 17 18

C. Hinrichs, Friedrich Wilhelm /., Konig in Preussen i,jfugend und Aufstieg, Hamburg 1941, p. 22ff. Cf. C. Jany, Geschichte der Koniglich Preussischen Armee 1, Berlin 1928, p. i6iff. Jany gives many other examples of the influence of the Dutch model. 125

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Seneca. The nine-year-old prince is reported to have observed that the military was the basis of the state. This saying of Seneca - that the prosperity of the state rests upon its weapons - now became, so to speak, the motto of Prussia. The publisher, however, limits its import by stating that Seneca is to be understood only as saying ' that the institutions which are proper to war bring an important benefit to the community if they are properly organized'. By no means must war be waged at all times. This interpretation was entirely in keeping with the views of the King, who no longer sent his growing military forces into action. The literature of Roman Stoicism remained the ideal for the spiritual and moral education of army officers, as is attested many times by the military and constitutional writings and compendia of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. J. C. Liinig, the editor of one of these gigantic tomes, the Corpus iuris militaris of 1723, worked out a plan for a 'universal library for an educated officer' and listed in it the works of the Roman Stoics - Les oeuvres de Seneque, Les offices de Ciceron, Uesprit de Seneque, La morale

d^Epictete. Thus, in the third decade of the eighteenth century they were regarded as fundamental to the outlook and conduct of the German officer in the army of the absolute state. On questions of military law Liinig referred to certain unnamed ' scriptores iuris gentium' and expressly to the Politics of Lipsius and of the Frankfurt professor of history and politics, J. C. Becman. True, there were no doubt only a few Prussian officers and civil servants who read the Latin philosophers and Lipsius directly. However, not only the learned works, but the belles lettres of the period too, were full of allusions to classical thought and ideas. With the increased popularity of Epicurean ideas in the second half of the seventeenth century, Stoicism became narrow and superficial. In many cases it already amounted to a rather banal doctrine of mundane utility. Practical applicability was all that counted - disinterested education was in large measure rejected.19 The trend went downwards from Lipsius, through Gracian, to Christian Thomasius, who was a professor at Halle and a leader of the Enlightenment. He was held in uncommonly high esteem by Frederick William I. The King rejected all philosophical speculation, which was uncongenial to his practical mind. He had hardly any notion of the deeper humanistic foundations upon which his political achievements were built - the administrative organization, the civil service and the army.20 He was sustained 19

20

E. Kutsche, Kriegsbild, Wehrverfassung und Wehrwesen in der Deutschen Enzyklopddie des 18. Jahrhunderts, dargestellt an Zedlers Grossem Universallexikon (diss.), Freiburg im Breisgau 1975. The author shows how the contributors to the Universallexikon and the writers upon whom they drew were firmly rooted in the Graeco-Roman tradition. He also shows how certain opinions had changed since Lipsius. G. Oestreich, Friedrich Wilhelm /., Preussischer Absolutismus, Merkantilismus, Militarismus, Gottingen 1977 (= Personlichkeit und Geschichte vol. 96/97). 126

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia psychologically by pietism, which was grounded in religious experience and called for activity.21 Yet this political and social movement for reform within the Lutheran Church, like English Puritanism, had already assimilated impulses from Neostoicism. Common to all these movements was their educative force, the sense of strict responsibility, the will to active commitment and constant effort, methodical exercise and continual selfinspection, the struggle against all false moral security, and the exhortation to moderation, self-control and asceticism. In these movements the 'civic' virtues pushed themselves to the fore. In the library of the Francke foundations at Halle, the works of Lipsius were represented by numerous editions - the Constantia alone by three, the Politics by seven.22 The pietist movement began in the churches and schools, but as it gained a broader social base, larger sections of the public could be educated to hard work and achievement. The Netherlands Movement now underwent a process of social restructuring. Those members of the nobility and the middle class, in the bureaucracy and the officer corps, who had enjoyed a humanist education, were no longer numerous enough to meet the state's needs. New sections of society were drafted into the growing administration and the expanding economy. It was for them that Frederick William - the first European monarch to do so - established special professorships at his universities to cater for economics, government and cameral affairs. Early on, during the historico-political phase of the Netherlands Movement, humanist philology and philosophy played the dominant role" in academic study; that of the philologist now diminished. The second phase concentrated on natural law, political theory and jurisprudence. In Prussia this was now augmented, through the influence of pietist clergymen and teachers, by practical education for positions in the state service or the economy. All professions were affected by these changes. At the universities of Prussia the doctrines of natural law were presented in the guise of a moderate but all-powerful state. The importance of Hugo Grotius in specifically Prussian legal and constitutional thinking has received little attention.23 However, one has only to look cursorily at the works of Cocceji and Thomasius, Heineccius and Wolff, to see that the 21

22

23

C. Hinrichs, Friedrich Wilhelm /.; id. Preussentum und Pietismus. Der Pietismus in BrandenburgPreussen als religios-soziale Reformbewegung, Gottingen 1971. I am grateful to Herr J. Storz, the director of the archive of the Francke foundations, for the great trouble he took in listing all the works of Lipsius held in the main library of the foundations. Altogether there are 53 editions, and a number are not listed in the Bibliographie lipsienne. The large representation of Lipsius is partly explained by the acquisition of the library of a Dutch theologian. This whole question was discussed in Berlin in 1976 and published as' Humanismus und Naturrecht in Berlin-Brandenburg-Preussen', in Veroffentlichungen der Historischen Kommission zu Berlin, vol. 48, ed. H. Thieme and others. Berlin 1979. 127

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement Dutchman exercised a dominant influence over them.24 In 1791 and 1792 Svarez, the creator of the general Prussian law of 1794, gave a number of addresses before the crown prince, later Frederick William III. Their publication shows clearly the importance of later thinking on natural law in Prussia's development into a Rechtsstaat (a state founded on law and justice).25 The policy of toleration, a characteristic feature of the Prussian state from the time of the Great Elector, together with reason of state and reason of economic policy, has to be seen in relation to the effects of the Netherlands Movement. In pursuit of toleration, the Prussian rulers and their advisers had to prevail over the intolerance of the estates. Frederick IPs tutor, Duhan de Jandun, had formerly been with the family of Count Alexander von Dohna. Whether he acquainted the crown prince with the Stoics cannot be shown. At all events, Frederick II adopted the pagan philosophy of the ancient Stoa as his view of life. His turning from Seneca to Marcus Aurelius no doubt signified for the stoicien philosophe a personal turning away from religious pietas to the more philosophical humanite. Of his indirect debt to Neostoicism he was ignorant. In fact, he held the Latin language of later humanist scholarship responsible for the failure of the German language to develop properly and for the ignorance of the masses. He expressly called Lipsius, Freinsheim, Gronovius and Graevius 'undiscerning pedants, ponderous ruminants who chewed over a few obscure phrases that they found in th$ old manuscripts'.2 6 In the first year of Frederick's reign, J. P. Ludewig, the highly respected chancellor of Halle University, gave a course of lectures on government and economic policy. In it he recommended the Politics of Lipsius, which he said was 'incomparable' and 'used as a constant manual by many ministers'; however, it contained 'only generalities'.27 The professor was well informed about the court, and one wonders which ministers he had in mind. Perhaps one of them was Friedrich Wilhelm von Grumbkow, who had studied in Utrecht and Leiden. It is possible, then, to trace the influence of the Netherlands Movement in Brandenburg-Prussia too, even though at present we have been able to make it clear only in a few areas of government and the law. These lines of communication that we have inked in between the Netherlands and 24

25

26 27

E. Wolf, Grosse Rechtsdenker, 4th edn. Tubingen 1963. E. Reibstein, 'Von Grotius zu Bynkerhoek', Archiv des Volkerrechts 4 (1953-4) 1-28; id., 'Deutsche Grotius-Kommentatoren bis zu Christian Wolff', Zeitschrift fur ausldndisches offentliches Recht und Volkerrecht 15 (1953-4) 76-102. On Heineccius cf. E. Reibstein, 'J. G. Heineccius als Kritiker des grotianischen Systems', Zeitschrift fur ausldndisches offentliches Recht und Volkerrecht 24 (1964) 239. H. Conrad and G. Kleinheyer (eds.), Vortrdge iiber Recht und Staat von Carl Gottlieb Svarez (1746-17Q8), Cologne and Opladen i960. Uber die deutsche Literatur, 1780, in Die Werke Friedrichs des Grossen, v m , Berlin 1913, p. 97. Universitatsbibliothek Gottingen, Nachlass Achenwall 210a. Lecture transcript of 1741.

128

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia Brandenburg-Prussia are certainly surprising. From the point of view of the eighteenth century they appear arbitrary and illogical. The loose federal structure of the bourgeois Dutch republic, which had yielded its world status to England, and the military monarchy of Prussia, intent upon unification and a place among the European powers, have at first sight nothing in common. The Prussian administration, society and economy, developed and directed by the state, existed largely, though not exclusively, to maintain the army, whose task was to protect the various parts of this far-flung state. The reputation of the army, previously an object of contempt, had to be consolidated by a collossal effort; that was why the monarch concentrated social prestige on the native-born Prussian officer, the 'nobility of sword and service'. The result was that the absolute power of the state was never counterbalanced by a powerful middle class. Finally the monarch even demanded military discipline from his civil service. How different is the picture presented by the Netherlands in this period! Thanks to the financial power of commercial capital and colonial revenues, the States General were able to prevent the army from gaining any influence on the state and society. The regent class had all the necessary means at their disposal without needing to change the political, social or economic structure. In the two countries of classic militarism, France and Prussia, the special officials, the intendants and the military commissioners, succeeded, by their zeal for regulations, only in stifling civilian rjolitical and economic initiative. In Prussia the military began as servants and finished up by becoming the masters. Thus, Holland in the eighteenth century was entirely preserved from militarism, while in Brandenburg-Prussia the demand for a strong and permanently armed state led to the peculiarly Prussian phenomenon of monarchic militarism. Nevertheless, while the influence of the Netherlands in eighteenthcentury Prussia was supreme, the general conditions prevailing in the two countries and the personalities of the active politicians were so different that the same intellectual trends produced very different political and military structures. The patrician families of the Dutch towns did not adopt the spirit of strict order associated with modern state organization, while the bureaucrats in monarchic regimes linked their own careers to the advancement of the modern bureaucratic-military state. And not least, scholarship saw its fulfillment in the service of the state, even if the state did not always take on a form corresponding to the picture which the scholars had envisaged. How was it possible for Lipsius and the beginnings of Neostoicism, whose contemporary influence is shown by the immense popularity of his writings and those of his associates, to be so utterly forgotten ? This is a question 129

Justus Lipsius and the Netherlands movement which must be answered. I will not refer to the many figures who were once forgotten and are now famous again, for in the case of Lipsius we can advance quite specific reasons. In the first place, his works were tailored to practical use; they were put directly into practice and so immediately absorbed. Neostoicism is the clearest embodiment of the contradictory spirit of the age - an age which wanted to put the Renaissance behind it, but at the same time contained and cultivated many of its elements. It is no wonder that reality should ultimately leave behind the theoretical foundations intended for the practice of the day. In the second place, Neostoicism was not meant to be a speculative theory, a discussion of what constitutes a perfect state, but rather a consideration of what was possible and necessary, presented in a form that was in large measure tailored to the person of the prince, the statesman and bureaucrat, the commander and soldier. With the loss of this characteristic kind of thinking in terms of persons and the disappearance of the ethical and educative element in political science, with the victory of institutional thinking at the end of the eighteenth century and the sudden emergence of utilitarian and positivist conceptions of the state, the conditions no longer existed for comprehending this quite different world. And in the third place, it was France, not Sweden or any of the states of Germany, which became the dominant power in Europe. It was now Bodin who became the authority on constitutional theory. K This development begins with Gabriel Naude and his Bibliographia politic a of 1633, in which he extols the creator of the doctrine of sovereignty as the phoenix unicus sui seculi. At the same time Aristotle is singled out as the only great political thinker of ancient times; Thomas Aquinas is praised; Lipsius is mentioned in passing together with Timpler and Keckermann (one should note that Lipsius is bracketed with the two Calvinist writers on political philosophy), and Althusius is totally ignored. On questions of war and peace Naude cites the work of Hugo Grotius. Here we have, then, at this early date, the picture which in all essentials holds good today and was never questioned until Wilhelm Dilthey published his essays. Legal historians of our day have meantime lost sight of Dilthey's early discoveries. This is because they have concentrated exclusively on the Spanish scholastic precursors of Grotius, neglecting to shed any light on the philosophical background against which Grotius worked and which was partly responsible for his unique success. The history of political ideas in Germany has signally underrated the influence of Roman Stoicism and the effects it had on political life until well into the eighteenth century. On the other hand, the Stoic sources of such social ideals as the honnete homme have been appreciated for a long time. Economic history recognizes Neostoicism 130

The Netherlands movement in Brandenburg-Prussia as an indispensable source of energy for the idea of rational education in mercantilism. In the history of military ideas Neostoic doctrine has an extremely important place in the long-drawn-out transition from knightly loyalty to the concept of soldierly obedience and in the methodical and rational training of armies. All these voices proclaiming moderation of the extreme religious passions and the idea of a reasonable peace are easier to unite into a chorus if one is able to hear a strong Neostoic diapason underlying the intellectual history of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Neostoicism took in the essential features of the period and exercised in many respects a decisive influence on the future. As an ideological, ethical and educative movement it determined the spiritual outlook of seventeenthcentury man and his practical attitude to life; as a political and military movement it was a strong force in shaping the practice of the incipient absolute state. For at the heart of this active, manly and realistic philosophy lies not theoretical speculation, but practical service for the general good, which was seen to reside in the building of an ethically based and militarily powerful state. Lipsius pointed out the means by which this might be achieved, and these means were to be employed by absolute monarchy. Lipsius' work is permeated by the longing for peace which was so great in his day, by the call for tranquillity and order and for discipline and authority in public life. The absolutist rulers answered tjiis call by extending the range of public tasks and bringing them under the control of the state. The formal principles of Roman political life, auctoritas and disciplina, reinforced by Lipsius, found their way into European absolutism. Is it correct simply to go on pointing to Luther's exegesis of Romans 13. if. in order to explain the 'cult of obedience' in the seventeenth century and later ? The eclectic character of Lipsius' writings, which seemed to dissolve the coherence and uniformity of the total view they contain, made it possible for all the confessions to cite them in their own cause, even though Lipsius himself wished to stand above the confessions. Finally, this eclecticism also explains why his teaching, which smoothed the way morally, politically and militarily for seventeenth-century absolutism, could be revived once more in the age of enlightened despotism. In internal politics his principles were directed towards the good of the subjects, which was the aim of the state, and towards a more paternal and moderate government. These principles might well be paraphrased by the secret motto of enlightened despotism: 'Everything for the people, nothing by the people.'

PART II

The constitutional development of the early modern state

The religious covenant and the social contract The period of the Counter-Reformation and the religious wars was a testing time. Old and new religious values had to prove their power and effectiveness to the full. Protestantism was engaged in a life-and-death struggle. The security of its faith was reinforced by two great theological ideas. One was predestination, that'terrible decree' which demanded faith; the other, underrated by everybody since Max Weber, was the glorious idea of the covenant of grace, conferring faith. The certainty of man's union with God soon made the idea of the covenant into the guiding principle of the age. The theological idea gave rise to a political idea which had close links with the doctrine that the state was founded upon a contract. This doctrine was taking shape at the time in the political maxims of the Calvinist opposition in France and England. The notion that the political community, the state, came into existence through free agreement between the people and its rulers represents a stage on the road to democracy. No less important for the evolution of democracy was the idea of popular sovereignty - the idea that ultimate authority in the state resides with and derives from the people. Extensive studies have been devoted to the interplay of these ideas and their consequences. Again and again scholars have been drawn to the origins of our modern democratic systems. Little attention has been paid, on the other hand, to the relation between the Judaeo-Christian idea of the Covenant made between God and man and the contractual theory of government, although over eighty-five years ago Georg Jellinek drew attention to the political implications of the religious covenant.1 Only latterly have theologians and lawyers begun to 1

G. Jellinek, Die Erkldrung der Menschen- und Burgerrechte, Munich 1895, 4th edn. 1927, p. 426°., following Borgeaud (1893) and others, drew attention to the link between church covenants and political contractual theory. For a recent discussion see U. Scheuner, Macht und Recht, Beitrdge zur lutheranischen Staatslehre der Gegenwart, Berlin 1956, pp. 77 and 81; id., Europa, Vermdchtnis

und Verpflichtung, Frankfurt 1957, p. 73. On the contractual theory in general see the collection of material in A. Voigt (ed.), Der Herrschaftsvertrag, Neuwied 1965 (Politica 16) and J. W. Gough, The Social Contract. A Critical Study of its Development, Oxford 1936, 2 i957- Jellinek's treatise is now available in R. Schnur (ed.), Zur Geschichte der Erkldrung der Menschenrechte, Darmstadt

1964, pp. 1-77.

135

The constitutional development of the early modern state interest themselves in the question. Even now there is no comprehensive treatment of the subject, and here it can be dealt with only briefly. What follows is an attempt to focus greater attention on the political consequences of the biblical conception of the Covenant. The intrusion of theological notions into modern political doctrine is evident from the considerable use it makes of scripture and has often been demonstrated in detail. The 'political theology' inaugurated by Carl Schmitt, even goes so far as to try to show how ' all the pregnant concepts of modern constitutional doctrine are secularized theological concepts'.2 Our question must likewise be seen in connection with 'political theology'. Almost all the great scholars of the sixteenth century were both theologians and lawyers. It was the theologians and the moral philosophers who cultivated constitutional law, and this was the area in which the great swing from feudalism to national sovereignty had to be accomplished. The leaders of European learning, for instance of late scholasticism in Spain and of humanism in France, had almost without exception received a twofold education or managed to acquire one. Well-known examples are Vitoria and Covarruvias, Bude and Calvin; many others could be cited. Education was largely based on theology, and canon law and Protestant church law would have been inconceivable without reference to religion. The more heated the controversy over the relation between church and state became at the period of extreme confessional passions, the more frequent was the recourse to theological principles, in both attack and defence. In the mid seventeenth century Hobbes, not only a keen observer of religious politics, but also a subtle master of biblical scholarship and the theology of the Covenant, got rid of popular sovereignty by his conception of a contract by which one side submitted to the other. In 1642, at the end of his De civey he gave a succinct account of his idea of the religious Covenant in the section on religion, but he did not link it to the contractual theory of government.3 His concern was rather to show that in biblical history the supreme secular and ecclesiastical authority was united in the hands of the priest or the king, 2

3

C. Schmitt, Politische Theologie, Munich 1922, 2 i934- See also K. T. Buddeberg, 'Gott und Souveran. (jber die Fiihrung des Staates im Zusammenhang rechtlichen und religiosen Denkens', Archiv des qffentlichen Rechts, N F 28 (1937) 257-325 on the connection between the Calvinist conception of divine omnipotence and Bodin's conception of sovereignty. An inadequate account of the political theology of the Vindiciae contra tyrannos of 1579 is given by F. Delekat, 'Die Umsetzung der Grundprinzipien der Reformation in die Grundprinzipien der konstitutionellen Demokratie', Evangelische Theologie 14 (1954) 485-98. Delekat ignores a century of research and adopts uncritically the thesis of Hundeshagen (1841) concerning the links between constitutional doctrine and Calvinism. Also he ignores the important second part of the Vindiciae and considers only the third and fourth, using the translation of R. Treitzschke or L. Wyss, repr. Zurich 1946. De Cive, chapters 16 and 17. A perceptive account of Hobbes' view of the covenant is given by G. Schrenk, Gottesreich und Bund im dlteren Protestantismus, vornehmlich bei Johannes Coccejus, Giitersloh 1923, referring to a basic formula of the Leviathan: 'kingdom of God by covenant'. For Hobbes the old and the new covenant are always an institution by pact.

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The religious covenant and the social contract his aim being to bind the subject to absolute obedience to this authority. Hobbes consciously dissociated the theology of the Covenant from the contractual theory of government and used it in support of his absolutist stance. It was used as a weapon in the secret war against the democratic implications contained in the Presbyterian and Puritan doctrine of the Covenant between God and man in the Old and New Testaments, against the spirit of the covenant of grace.4 What Hobbes deliberately ignored is precisely what concerns us here. Most present-day critics of the contractual theory, as it was propounded in early modern times, see it as an arbitrary construct or a fictive aid to constitutional theory, denying it any basis in political reality or the intellectual life of the age. Even Wolzendorff, one of the great experts on the history of the theory, while demonstrating its links with positive law, maintains that it was merely an obsolete formula designed to show that the state was the organization of the nation.5 In an earlier essay6 he had advanced the positivist view that it was only a logical expedient in constitutional theory. On the other hand, the lawyer Rudolf Smend maintained that ' the doctrine of the state contract is intended and must be appreciated not only as a mythical historical construct, as an expedient in constitutional criticism and as a legal basis, but also as an attempt at sociological - or, better, phenomenological - understanding'. At present the question is asked, whether this conception of the origin of the state implies ' a historical type, the normal process of a real occurrence, or a philosophical myth, the demonstration of a basic idea which is effective in every case, or, lastly, a legal position giving the parties rights and duties'.7 Such formulations seem to me to ignore an important part of the problem, viz. the religious aspect. To what extent did the idea of the Covenant, with which Protestantism was more and more preoccupied, add a new spiritual dimension to the elaboration of the political notion of a contract between ruler and people? It is possible that it helped to give depth to the 'phenomenological understanding', since the theological idea of the 4

5

6 7

Cf. W. Forster, Thomas Hobbes und der Puritanismus. Grundlagen und Grundfragen seiner Staatslehre (Beitrage zur Politischen Wissenschaft 8), Berlin 1969; id. 'Thomas Hobbes und der Puritanismus' in Hobbes-Forschungen, Berlin 1969, pp. 71-89. Forster examines the theory of the covenant in the dispute between Hobbes and Puritanism. K. Wolzendorff, Staatsrecht und Naturrecht in der Lehre vom Widerstandsrecht des Volkes gegen rechtswidrige Ausiibung der Staatsgewalt (Untersuchungen zur deutschen Staats- und Rechtsgeschichte 126), Breslau 1916, p. 525. For a contrary view see R. Smend, Verfassung und Verfassungsrecht, Munich 1928, p. 70. Archiv des bffentlichen Rechts 34 (1915) 477-90. E. Reibstein, Johannes Althusius als Fortsetzer der Schule von Salamanca. Untersuchungen zur Ideengeschichte des Rechtsstaates und zur altprotestantischen Naturrechtslehre (Freiburger Rechts- und Staatswissenschaftliche Abhandlungen 5), Karlsruhe 1955, p. 72f. Reibstein recognizes the important role of Old Testament covenant theory in Calvinist theology and treats it on pp. 166 and i72ff.

137

The constitutional development of the early modern state Covenant provided much of the texture of the spiritual and ecclesiastical life of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. To understand the ideological force of the contractual theory we must first recall what it corresponded to in the life of the state. WolzendorfF in particular pointed out its basis in actual law, the dualism of the corporative state, and stressed that the estates and the ruler were two legally independent forces negotiating with each other. Relations between them could be settled only by agreement. Thus, ' no conception of the relation between the ruler and the estates could arise... other than one which saw it as resting upon a contract'.8 Here we must content ourselves with referring to the many historical contracts made between rulers and estates.9 The constitution of the Holy Roman Empire consisted of numerous compacts and agreements, notably, from 1519 onwards, written 'electoral capitulations'. Every imperial election from then on involved negotiations between the Electors and the candidate, resulting in certain agreed articles, a written undertaking or' obligation' which set down contractual restrictions on the king's rights as ruler; these have rightly been compared with a modern constitutional instrument.10 Contractual arrangements were not confined to the relations between ruler and estates. Many public functions which today are accepted as proper to the state alone were at that time subject to private agreements. This applied - to name three examples - to army organization, statefinance,and the integration of different territories and provinces into a unified state. There was as yet no reliable national army to replace the inadequate feudal levies in external wars within the European state system. A prince entering a war had to contract with successful military entrepreneurs, the condottieri, colonels and captains, who undertook to recruit the required troops for limited engagements and to lead them in his service. The independence of the international mercenary leaders from the nominal national leaders is well known. The soldiers also changed their colours as one might change one's place of work. In the absence of a state system of taxation, the funding 8

9

10

K. WolzendorfF, op. cit., pp. 123-79. The quotation occurs on p. 167. O. Brunner, Land und Herrschaft, Vienna 3 i943, p. 486, finds a contractual element in homage, but it is 'a status contract based on the concept of loyalty which binds persons and their whole existence'. On the present state of research, in which Werner Naf is the dominant figure, see the observations of F. Hartung in ' Herrschaftsvertrage und standischer Dualismus in deutschen Territorien', Schweizer Beitrdge zur allgemeinen Geschichte 10 (1952) 163-77, reprinted in id., Staatsbildende Krdfte der Neuzeit. Gesammelte Aufsdtze, Berlin 1961, pp. 62-77. E. Lousse, La Societe de Vancien regime. Organisation et representation corporatives 1, Louvain 2 i952, p. 458*., stresses the importance of the covenant (also called 'pacte', 'alliance', 'confederation', 'conjuration' and 'union') in corporative life. F. Hartung, 'Die Wahlkapitulationen der deutschen Kaiser und Konige', id., Volk und Staat in der deutschen Geschichte. Gesammelte Abhandlungen, Leipzig 1940, p. 83, where details are given on the contractual nature and content of the capitulations.

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The religious covenant and the social contract of the growing number of public tasks depended increasingly on financial contracts concluded by the prince, using his own personal credit, after his private revenues were exhausted. Since outgoings greatly exceeded income, the commonest way to defray expenses was to incur debts. Loans, i.e. agreements by which the princes were given credit, made it possible to wage war, build fortifications, maintain troops, and pay officials. Schmoller, one of the great experts on state finance in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, speaks of small private loan contracts. What was true of warfare and public finance applied also in many cases to the creation of integrated territorial states. Contracts were often the means by which complex feudal relations were disentangled and obligations concerning legal and military service, feudal dues and forced labour re-allocated, so that obligations owed to a person were transferred to a territorial state. The political integration of small contiguous areas might take place as the result of a large number of peaceful agreements. Such agreements were especially common among petty temporal and spiritual princes, who exchanged their subjects and the rights they had over them in order to obtain a unified 'territorial state'. Contracts were constantly being concluded for the exchange of from one to a hundred or more persons, for instance in the territory of the Allgau between the bishops of Augsburg, the monastery of Kempten and the imperial courts of Montfort at Rotenfels. In an important agreement of 1564 the count of RQtenfels ceded 3,542 of his subjects and all his lands east of the River Iller in exchange for 1,073 Augsburg subjects, together with all the episcopal lands west of the upper Iller and a payment of 63,400 guilders. Both parties undertook in future not to acquire subjects or men owing them allegiance on each other's territory.11 Thus unitary territorial states were formed as the result of treaties - in this case the imperial county of Rotenfels. Otto Hintze noted, in a note published by the Berlin Academy,12 that the gradual transformation of the feudal into the modern state in Germany often replaced 'firm relations based on status' with 'free relations based on contract'. According to Hintze, the change from thinking in terms of status to thinking in contractual terms was of crucial importance for the 1T

12

The German terms Schirmherr and Schirmleute, or Schutzhorige represent something between a lord and his vassals, on the one hand, and a patron and his clients, on the other, or something like an indenture (Editors). O. Hintze, * Die Entstehung des modernen Staatslebens', Sitzungsberichte der Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Philosophisch-historische Klasse 1932, pp. 925-29, repr. in id. Staat und Verfassung. Gesammelte Abhandlungen 1, Gottingen 2 i962, pp. 497-502. The distinction comes from Sir Henry Maine, Ancient Law, its Connection with the Early History of Society and its Relation to Modern Ideas (1861), edited with an introduction by Sir Carleton Allen, London 1959, p. i4of. On Maine's concept of status or contract see W. Seagle, Weltgeschichte des Rechts. Eine Einfu'hrung in die Probleme und Erscheinungsformen des Rechts, Munich 3 i967, p. 376ff. My quotations are taken from C. Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, Munich 1928, p. 68.

139

The constitutional development of the early modern state emergence of the modern sense of statehood. This question has a great bearing upon our present concern, but has received far too little attention. The contract based on status, which was the medieval norm, was the foundation for ' a permanent life-time relationship involving a person and his whole existence', allotting him a place in the total order which could not be freely revoked or set aside. The modern free contract, by contrast, can be dissolved and terminated. It does not indissolubly bind the whole person, as was the case with feudal contracts, brotherhoods, betrothal and marriage. The transformation of the notion of a religious covenant, originally a contract based on status, into a free political contract produced a quite new concept in the history of political ideas. The secular contractual theory of the sixteenth century acquired a powerful moral and religious force, far exceeding any conferred by the actual parallels we have just mentioned, by virtue of the deliberate reference to the biblical Covenant. It came to be aligned with religious principles which dominated this theologically orientated period. To the real contractual elements in political life was added an element of contemporary spiritual life which likewise involved the notion of a contract or covenant. In Calvinist theology the idea of a religious covenant played an ever increasing role in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, until finally the covenants of the Old and New Testaments became the new principle of classification in reformed dogma. The high point of covenant theology (Johannes Coccejus) was not reached until 'about the middle of the seventeenth century, but even in the earliest stages we can observe the powerful influence which these ideas exercised on constitutional doctrine in the areas of both the church and secular politics.13 In Reformation Europe the idea of the covenant is not unequivocal. It may appear revolutionary or conservative, pro-baptist or anti-baptist. When it took shape it led to a conflict as to whether the future should be determined by Miintzer's league of the elect and later by the Anabaptists, or by the churches of Luther, Zwingli and Calvin. Thomas Miintzer, the greatest and most dangerous of Luther's protestant opponents, was the first to develop the idea and put it into practice. We no longer have his sermon on 2 Kings 22 and 23, in which Joshua renews the covenant between Moses 13

The main theological study is still that of Schrenk (see n. 3 above). On p. xi of the introduction Schrenk remarks that the history of the idea of the state contract cannot be written 'without paying careful attention to the contractual theory taught at Heidelberg and Herborn, which had a not inconsiderable influence of Althusius'. Perry Miller, The New England Mind 1, The Seventeenth Century, Cambridge, Mass. 2 i954, demonstrates the central position of covenant thinking in Puritanism. Appendix B ('The Federal School of Theology', pp. 502-5) lists the important English works on the covenant. From the period 1604-82 about thirty works are listed; some of them went into several editions. Whereas in Dutch Calvinism federal theology became the doctrine of one party, in New England it remained' from the beginning a fundamental tenet, the basis for so much thinking which was ecclesiastical, political and social as well as theological' (p. 503). 140

The religious covenant and the social contract and God on the basis of the rediscovered book of the law. By the people of God Miintzer meant the community of the elect. 'The people of the elect are those in whom divine sovereignty is vested on earth: this is the form which popular sovereignty takes in Miintzer's thinking.'14 The people of the covenant was the revolutionary congregation at Allstedt and Miihlhausen, whom this eloquent man led in its conflict with the princes. Many of Miintzer's ideas survived in Anabaptist thinking. The elect quite logically rejected infant baptism. They regarded adult baptism as constituting the covenant and liked to call each other Bundesgenossen ('confederates', 'parties to a covenant'). Zwingli was the first to attack the Anabaptist movement, which was spreading rapidly in Zurich, and its conception of the Covenant. In its place he set that of the covenant made by God with Abraham, an everlasting compact with man which was renewed by infant baptism among Christians.15 Bullinger, the author of the Confessio Helvetica posterior of 1566, which united the reformed Protestant churches, developed Zwingli's teaching in his work De testamento seu foedere Dei unico et eterno of 1534. He listed five covenants made by God - with Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus.16 In the conflict with the Anabaptists it was stressed 'that children are not excluded from the old and the new covenant', and that infant baptism was the Christian equivalent of circumcision as the seal of the Old Testament covenant.17 Calvin made the idea of the Covenant an integral part of hi$ theology.18 The foedus or alliance was for him both a historical fact and a source of revelation. 'Ex compactomutua quaedam est obligatio inter ipsum (Deum) et populum' ('From the covenant comes a certain mutual obligation between God and the people'). Mutua obligatio was a legal term. Calvin used it to capture the essence of religion, which he discussed by using the analogy of a private contract in Roman law. Here he was following his famous compatriot, the humanist Guillaume Bude, who had elucidated the ' foedus et pactum admirabile' between God and mankind in the legal terms 14

15 16

17 18

C. Hinrichs, Luther und Miintzer. Ihre Auseinandersetzung u'ber Obrigkeit und Widerstandsrecht, Berlin 1952, p. 35f. Cf. also T. Nipperdey, 'Theologie und Revolution bei Thomas Miintzer', Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte 54 (1963) 145-81. G. Schrenk, op. cit., p. 36ff. 'And this is the covenant which in scripture God is said to have made with mankind. It was made first with Adam, renewed with Noah, and more clearly with Abraham, set down in the books by Moses, and finally sanctified and confirmed by Christ.' On Heinrich Bullinger, the 'frequently ignored crystallizer of reformed Protestantism in the second generation of the Reformation before Calvin', see L. von Muralt in Historia Mundi vn, Berne 1957, pp. 110-13. Schrenk, op. cit., p. 43. J. Bohatec, Bude und Calvin. Studien zur Gedankenwelt des franzosischen Fruhhumanismus, Graz 1950, p. 246, gives detailed references in refutation of Schrenk, who does not regard the covenant idea as constitutive. Further documentation of covenant thinking in Calvin is given by R. H. Murray, The Political Consequences of the Reformation. Studies in Sixteenth-Century Thought, London 1926,

pp. 105-8. 141

The constitutional development of the early modern state employed in the later theology of the covenant.19 The relations between ruler and subject were described by Calvin in almost the same words as 'mutua capitis et membrorum obligatio' ('the mutual obligation of head and members').20 This political obligation mutuelle brought together moral and legal elements and gave them a religious foundation as an obligation undertaken in the sight of God. The prince was obliged to protect true religion, to observe the ten commandments, and to uphold the law. The people for their part promised obedience. The expression mutua obligatio had many connotations, partly emotive. The adjective mutuus seems to have had a magic ring about it. We encounter it again and again in the spheres of religion, morality and the law, in Spanish scholasticism and reformed theology, in French political doctrine and in the Puritan revolution. Francisco de Vitoria, for instance, in his Relectio de matrimonio of 1531, spoke of the purpose of marriage as ' mutua obsequia et officia inter virum et foeminam' ('mutual submission and service between man and woman') and gave the following definition: 'Ratio matrimonii consistit in mutua traditione corporis et obligatione ad usum corporis' ('The reason for matrimony consists in the mutual surrender of the body and the obligation to bodily intercourse'). Melanchthon interpreted infant baptism as a 'mutuum foedus' or 'mutua obligatio' between God and the baptizand. Calvin himself, considering the word mutuus in constitutional law, referred to the homage done to a ruler at his accession - the obligation sworn by the prince and the loyalty promised by his subjects. The Genevan reformer acknowledged the principle of the corporative state, realising the importance of the German imperial estates in the introduction, establishment and securing of the Reformation against an Emperor who adhered to the old faith. The religious covenant and the relations between the people and the ruler corresponded to the common formula of mutua obligatio based on Roman law. However, Calvin was far from concluding, from the contractual nature of the relation between them, that the one remained bound to the other only for as long as he fulfilled the terms of the contract. The idea of the covenant became important in reformed teaching on the sacraments not only against the Anabaptists, but also in relation to the Lutherans. From the mid-sixteenth century wefindit in western Germany, promoted in particular by Ursinus and Olevianus, the authors of the Heidelberg Catechism of 1563. Caspar Olevianus (1536-87), a doctor of laws of the university of Bourges, where Calvin had studied, and later 19

20

Bohatec, op. cit., p. 36f. That Calvin always considered 'the religious point of view strictly binding for the conduct of responsible politicians' is confirmed by a recent study of his letters. Cf. E. W. Zeeden, 'Calvins Einwirken auf die Reformation in Polen-Litauen \ Hermann Aubin Festschrift 1956, Syntagma Friburgense, p. 342. J. Bohatec, Calvins Lehre von Staat und Kirche, Breslau 1937, p. 646°. and 239ff.; id., Bude und Calvin (see n. 18 above), pp. 45of.

142

The religious covenant and the social contract professor of theology at the reformed university of Herborn in Nassau, wrote a grandiose synopsis of' the history of God with mankind under the image of a covenant'. The members of the covenant or confoederati were 'veri regni Christi cives' ('true citizens of the kingdom of Christ'). The combination of the termsfoedus and regnum Dei was not without importance as a model for the obvious combination of legal contractual theory and the secular kingdom.21 Calvinism made the Old Testament the basis for religious and political conduct. The revival of the Old Testament in writing, preaching and the singing of psalms must be regarded as no less important in social and public life than it was in personal life. When the chief work of Olevianus appeared, it was already possible to observe in France the first significant effects of the idea of the covenant on the doctrine of the state contract, or rather the working out of a contractual theory of government on the analogy of the biblical doctrine of the covenant. Protestantism had had to establish itself against the monarchies of western Europe, which remained loyal to the old religion. In France, the Netherlands, and Scotland, new ecclesiastical forms arose which were largely anti-monarchist in spirit and confederate in structure. The facts are well known. The covenants of the Scottish lords - the first Covenant of liberty of worship of December 1557 and the second Covenant of May 1559 with its assurance of mutual assistance by all signatories in defence of their religious rights - mark the beginning of the presbyterian church constitution. Also in 1559 the French Protestant churches organized themselves at the first general synod in Paris and joined together in the Confessio Gallicana. The ecclesiastical organization was mirrored by the Huguenot league, a political and military organization. The struggle for religious self-determination, here as elsewhere, became involved with the great internal political conflicts, with the struggle between absolute monarchy and government by the nobles. And of the Netherlands Philip II himself wrote:' The experience of the past shows that no religious change takes place without at the same time a change in the state, and that the poor, the idle, and the vagabonds often use it as a pretext for seizing the property of the rich.' The revolt in Flanders united anti-monarchist - or rather anti-absolutist - feeling with confessional passion. 21

H. Schlosser,' Caspar Olevianus'. Nassauische Lebensbilder i, Wiesbaden 1940, pp. 67-73. Olevianus' book De substantiafoederisgratuiti inter Deum et electos (1585) appeared in German translation under the title Der Gnadenbund Gottes in 1590. In 1599 the Herborn theologian Wilhelm Zepper brought out his Einfeltige Wegweis.. .wie man die Bibel.. .lesen moge. Zepper starts from the main idea of the Vindiciae, the twofold covenant, and deals with the contractual basis of the relation between king and people. The theologian adopts the slogan of the politician. I owe this information to L. Hatzfeld, 'Moses und die Kriegskunst. Eine Studie zur Piscatorbibel', Nassauische Annalen 68 (1957) 285. On Calvin and the idea of the establishment of the kingdom of God, cf. R. Niirnberger, Die Politisierung des franzosischen Protestantismus, Tubingen 1948, pp. 15-23.

143

The constitutional development of the early modern state The Massacre of St Bartholomew in 1572 was the great turning point in the relations between French Calvinism and the monarchy. The most Christian king having clearly become a murderer, the struggle between the Huguenots and the crown became more radical. In his De iure magistratuum in subditos of 1574 Theodor Beza, Calvin's successor at Geneva, worked out new theoretical foundations for the right of resistance and for the deposition of a tyrant.22 This theologian and jurist, who also adopted the teaching of the Spanish humanists on natural law,23 argues convincingly, using the facts of the Jewish covenants to demonstrate that David and Solomon, though chosen by God, were only really made kings by the people. Hence the authority of kings derives from the authority of the people.24 The 'mutua obligatio inter regem et regni officiarios' (p. 2i3f.), the 'mutuum iuramentum inter regem ipsum et populum' (p. 229) are shown as binding in the Bible, in history, and in contemporary constitutional law. We find the idea of the biblical covenant fully developed in the most celebrated of the anti-monarchist tracts, Vindiciae contra tyrannos (1574, printed 1579), a theological and legal masterpiece which gained wide and rapid popularity and was reprinted many times.25 Owing to the interest in the right of resistance and the fact that Wolzendorff devoted a study to the subject, attention has been directed chiefly to the third part of the Vindiciae, where the contractual theory is developed, though the theological and moral basis for it is given in the earlier discussion of*the dual covenant. 22

23

24

25

See A. A. van Schelven, * Bezas D e iure magistratuum in subditos', Archivfur Reformationsgeschichte 45 il^S^)' The edition of Beza used here was published at Frankfurt in 1608 and bound with the Vindiciae. Reibstein, op. cit. (above, n. 7), p. 1586°. was the first to establish the connection with Spanish scholasticism. C. J. Friedrich, Zeitschrift fur Rechtsgeschichte, Germ. Abt. 74 (1957) 378f. thinks there is a danger of overrating this ' purely dialectical' relation. 'Whence it follows that the authority of all magistrates depends on the public authority of those who raised them to that dignity, not the opposite' (p. 220). Reibstein comments here that Beza establishes the connection between popular sovereignty and the 'intermediate' authorities. Thus the idea of natural law is taken into the corporative structure of the state. This is an important extension for the future of the theory of natural law to which Beza points also with relation to England and Scotland. We should make more frequent use of the term 'sovereignty of the magistrate' beside 'sovereignty of the prince' and 'sovereignty of the people'. This would make for better understanding of the realities and aspirations of the age. Huizinga points out that most Dutch Calvinists saw sovereignty as residing with the lower magistrates, the 'states'. On the controversial question of whether the Vindiciae was written by Philip Duplessis-Mornay or Hubert Languet see the literature cited by P. Mesnard, UEssor de la philosophie politique au XVIe siecle, Paris 2nd edn. 1951, p. 337, n. 2 and the' Supplement bibliographique', p. 13. Also Reibstein, op. cit., p. 173, n. 119. On the political affinities of the Vindiciae see A. Elkan, Die Publizistik der Bartholomdusnacht und Mornays Vindiciae contra tyrannos, Heidelberg 1905, pp. 60-171; also W. Naf, ' Herrschaftsvertrage und die Lehre vom Herrschaftsvertrag', Schweizer Beitrdge zur allgemeinen Geschichte 7 (1949) 41-50. Naf thinks that modern constitutional theory begins with the contractual theory of the 1570s. I would not rate the contractual idea in the Vindiciae so highly, but it represents a turning point in that politics comes to occupy ' a legitimate place in the whole contractual system of God's commitment to man'.

144

The religious covenant and the social contract Altogether four questions are discussed. Are the subjects bound to obey a prince whose commands are contrary to the law of God ? May a prince be resisted if he violates the law of God ? Is it permitted to resist a prince who is ruining the state ? And finally, may or should neighbouring princes help another's subjects on religious or political grounds? All four questions were highly topical and bound to move every Huguenot in his opposition to the king, whether this opposition was religious or political and military. All four are answered in the affirmative, thereby reinforcing the resolution to fight and dispelling any doubts that might arise. The decisive justification for these positive answers lies in the application and interpretation of the idea of the covenant. This idea underlies the whole argument and dominates the first question. A general foundation is laid in a lengthy exposition drawing upon the Old Testament and presented in terms of contemporary constitutional law. The king has to be seen as God's vassal, for he possesses only a derived authority, contrasting with God's independent and absolute sovereignty. If the king offends against the commands of his overlord, he commits a felony, just like any other vassal, and forfeits his right to govern dejure, if not de facto. Kings thus always remain servants of God. This emerges unequivocally from the covenant which is solemnly concluded between God and the king.26 God is and always will be the lord of the world. Beside His omnipotence even a king is but a petty vassal who is punished if he offends his lord. Almighty God created the world out of nothing, but a king is never more than a man, a mere nothing. The relation between God and the king, grounded in the covenant, is thus described in terms of feudal law. If the king repudiates God and goes over to His enemies, so the embattled Calvinist argues, he forfeits his kingdom and his claim to the obedience of his subjects. There follows a more detailed examination of the dual covenant. We read of it in the Bible in connection with the installation of the kings. There is a first covenant, made by God with the king or the people, to ensure that they remain God's people, and a second, between the king and the people, to ensure that a good ruler has obedient subjects. The author begins with the first covenant, between God, the king, and the people. With great theological acumen he examines the covenants of grace in the Old 26

'Haec ex foedere inter Deum & regem fieri solito (confoederatorum enim nomine seruos suos dignatur Deus) perspicua erunt. Duplex autem foedus in Regum inauguratione legimus: primum, inter Deum & Regem, & Populum, ut esset Populus, Dei Populus. Secundum vero, inter Regem & Populum, ut bene imperanti bene obtemperaretur', Vindiciae 1608, p. 9. ('These things will become evident from the pact which was customarily concluded between God and the king. Moreover, we read of a double pact at the installation of the kings: the first between God and the king and the people, so that the people should be God's people; and the second between the king and the people, so that, if he ruled well, he might be well obeyed.') Similarly p. 6, later p. 28, et passim. For the biblical references see G. Schrenk, op. cit.

145

The constitutional development of the early modern state Testament, assaying them like precious stones to establish their content and weight. Since the old covenant survives into the New Testament, it follows that what applied to the kings of the Jews still applies to today's rulers. The Gospel has taken the place of the Old Testament, and Christian kings have replaced the kings of Israel. It is still the same covenant, with the same contractual conditions, the same penalties, and the same almighty God who punishes disloyalty.27 The political teachings of the Old Testament remain valid, just as its religious teachings do. Hence the second question - whether opposition in religious matters is permitted - is answered in the affirmative, with express reference to the covenant made by God with Moses. What was allowed to the Jews must also be allowed to every Christian people. The covenant with Moses, which was renewed with the kings of Israel, was concluded in order to uphold the law of God. It was renewed not only between God and the kings, but between God and the people. The last part of the covenant had a particular purpose. God did not enter into it casually, but to give the people a concrete task to perform: it was too dangerous to entrust the 'church' to a single weak human being, and so God conferred the care and responsibility for it upon the people too. The procedure by which this was done is described, in the terminology of Roman law, as a 'stipulation', a verbal contract in which God was the creditor and the king and the whole people were the debtors. The debtors undertake to see that the pact^made with God is upheld, going surety for each other. The king is liable to punishment if he allows Israel to fall away from God and does nothing to prevent it, and the people are liable to punishment if they fail to act against the king, if necessary with force, should he go over to other gods and seduce others into doing likewise. At this point the right of the people is for the first time defined more precisely: God solemnly includes them in the covenant; in other words, he declares them able and entitled to act against the king. They must prevent his leading the people away from the true faith and destroying the foundations of the church. Dramatically the author asks: 'Why did God require the assent of the people? Why did he make Israel and Juda submit themselves to the divine law ? Why did they have to confess solemnly that they would be God's people for ever?' Unless, he adds, he wished to give them the power and authority to intervene ? Quite clearly God acknowledged 27

'De Regibus tamen Christianis idem prorsus dicendum est. Evangelium successit legi, Reges Christiani Iudaicorum loco sunt. Idem pactum est, eaedem conditiones, eaedem poenae ni impleantur, idem vindex perfidiae Deus omnipotens', ibid., p. 14. ('However, the same may be asserted all the more of Christian kings. The Gospel has succeeded the Law, and Christian kings have replaced those of the Jews. The pact is the same, the conditions are the same, the penalties are the same if these are not fulfilled, and it is the same almighty God who punishes disloyalty.')

146

The religious covenant and the social contract that the people had the right to perform this task. In fact, the Hebrew prophets again and again called upon the people in God's name to do its duty, and, when the people failed in its duty, God punished both it and the king. The people's sovereignty in religious affairs is thus equal to the prince's. This is the doctrine deduced from the solemn covenant of the people with God as it affects religious matters. In view of our present limited aims we cannot deal here with the transition to the well-known right of resistance through the estates and the magistrates, who are the people's representatives. From this contract there follows the further important provision that, even when the king and the greater part of the people have fallen away, the minority must resist, because every part of the people has sworn fealty to God. This justified the struggle of the Huguenots, condemned to be a minority after the massacre of St Bartholomew. Closely linked with the answer to the second question is the third, which concerns the body politic. At this time religious and political questions could not be divorced from one another. Without further ado the religious congregation in the Vindiciae becomes the political community. And was that not how things were in the life of the French Calvinists or the Scots ? For in the Huguenot regions there was a merger of the ecclesiastical, political and military communities. With the Bible as his guide, the author of the Vindiciae once again examines the roles played by God and^the people in the making of kings. God chose the kings, but they were confirmed and installed by the people; it was the people who conferred kingship on them. After being chosen by God, kings receive all their power, however great, from the people. From this there follows an obligation on the part of the ruler; this is made clear by a consideration of the second compact, between the king and the people.28 The author speaks of the lex regia, the covenant made with the elders of Israel in the sight of God, and of the book of the covenant, in which are written the laws of religion and justice - that is, sacra et politica. He describes the pact made with the king upon his installation, for it was the people who made the king, not the king the people. Again the law of stipulation, i.e. the right to impose conditions, serves to explain the matter more precisely. The people is that party to the contract who exacts from the king the promise that he will rule justly and according to the laws. And after this undertaking has been given the people reply that they will obey him faithfully if he rules justly. The king thus makes an unconditional promise; the people, however, make a conditional promise. 28

' Foedus sive pactum inter Regem et Populum', ibid., p. 125; * est inter principem & populum ubique locorum mutua et reciproca obligatio', p. 154. ('The pact or covenant between the king and the people'. 'Everywhere there is a mutual and reciprocal obligation between prince and people.')

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The constitutional development of the early modern state If the king does not fulfill his promise they are at once freed from any further obligation to him.29 The proviso follows logically from the stronger legal position of the stipulator. The interesting wording ' populus... omni obligatione solutus' has received no attention in the literature on the subject, yet it is in my view important in the context of constitutional law and constitutional history. It seems to have been deliberately modelled on the famous principle of Roman law, princeps legibus solutus, which Jean Bodin had revived in his De Republica libri sex of 1576, only three years before the Vindiciae appeared in print. It follows from what has been said so far that the mutua obligatio was the 'binding' foundation of all laws, and it was this in their religious, ethical and purely legal aspects. Thus, if the mutua obligatio was infringed by the prince, the people too could be legibus solutus.

In the first compact of the dual covenant - between God, the ruler and the people - vengeance belongs to God alone. In the second it is the whole people - or their representatives, the magnates of the kingdom - who avenge transgressions of the law. The author of the Vindiciae not only shows how the biblical doctrine of the state contract held good in the history of the Persians, the Romans and the Greeks (in Sparta the contract was renewed between the kings and the ephors every month), but follows it up in all the legal systems of his own day. His claim that religious and political thought coincided, and that the historical conditions of the Old Testament were mirrored in the contemporary corporative state, is convincingly vindicated. The author recalls the electoral capitulation of the Emperor Charles V and his successors, and also the conditions obtaining in Poland, Hungary, and Bohemia; he then examines carefully the coronation rites of France and Spain. He reminds the reader of the 'ancient contracts, from which nothing of benefit to the community is omitted', which were read out before the Duke of Brabant received the homage of his subjects. Even Philip of Spain, the mightiest king of his age, was obliged, as Duke, to swear to these contracts when they were presented to him. Natural law is unobtrusively introduced with the notion that one is not 29

'Populus enim regem faciebat, non rex populum. Itaq; non dubium est, quin populus stipularetur, rex promitteret. Stipulatoris vero partes in iure potiores censentur. Stipulabatur ille a rege, an non iuste & secundum leges regnaturus esset? hie, facturum spondebat. Populus demum se iuste imperanti fideliter obsequuturum respondebat. Itaque promittebat rex pure, populus sub conditione: quae si non impleretur, populus ipso iure omni obligatione solutus censeretur. In primo foedere seu pacto, Pietas in obligationem venit: in secundo, Iustitia', p. 126. ('For the people made the king, not the king the people. Hence it cannot be doubted that the people stipulated and the king promised. For in law the parties who stipulate are held to be the stronger. The people demanded to know from the king whether he would govern justly and in accordance with the laws. He vowed that he would. Then finally the people replied that, if he governed justly they would obey him faithfully. Thus the king made an unconditional promise. The people promised with one condition; if this was not fulfilled they would by this law be held to be free of any obligation. By the first pact or covenant piety came into the obligation, by the second, justice.')

148

The religious covenant and the social contract bound by a promise which is 'contra bonos mores, contra naturae ius' (against good morals and the natural law). Finally the author defines the state contract as a 'mutua obligatio' obtaining between king and people 'which may be civil or only natural, and either tacit or framed in words' ('quae sive civilis sive naturalis tantum sit sive tacita sive verbis concepta'). The mutual obligation has such force that a prince who persistently offends against it may be designated as a tyrant, and a people that wantonly breaks it may be called rebellious. In the Vindiciae there was a close link between the notion of the religious covenant and the doctrine of the state contract within the duplex foedus. There was a degree of logic in the way the political consequences were derived from the religious premises. And yet there remained an insurmountable contradiction ' between the theory of the covenant as it was developed in reformation theology and the idea of popular sovereignty, however understood', a contradiction to which we can merely draw attention here.30 The Vindiciae was repeatedly reprinted. The religious and political ideas it contained lived on in Calvinist circles in France, England, Germany, and - especially - in the northern Netherlands. A close connection remained between the theology of the covenant of grace and the rallying cries used in the fight against absolute monarchy and against the confessional unity it sought to impose upon the state. What they had in cpmmon was the fundamental idea of a compact made with or before God, by which all parties were legally and morally bound {mutua obligatio), just as they were bound by the revealed word of God. The realities of biblical and profane history were viewed from this spiritual standpoint, and all contractual elements were stressed. This was the basis for the examination of contemporary constitutional law. Prominence was given to the existing institutions of the corporative state, so much so that at times, as for example in the writings of Hotman, the religious affinities of the contractual theory might recede wholly into the background. Up to now we have spoken only of the state contract, which subsumes the contract with the ruler and the social contract; these are generally distinguished. However, we are justified in saying that the monarchomachs and their contemporaries were only just beginning to be aware of the distinction, and that it was of no significance to the writers with whom we are concerned.31 The state contract and the contract with the ruler were still identical.32 30 31

32

Reibstein, op. cit., pp. 176-84 devotes a perceptive investigation to this contradiction. G. Michaelis, Richard Hooker ah politischer Denker, Berlin 1933, warns against making too much of the distinction. On the history of the idea in ancient and medieval times see J. W. Gough, op. cit. (above, n. 1); G. Jellinek, Allgemeine Staatslehre, p. 202; O. von Gierke, Johannes Althusius und die Entwicklung der naturrechtlichen Staatstheorien, 1880, 5th edition Aalen 1958, pp. 77ff.

149

The constitutional development of the early modern state This state of affairs changes with Hooker and Althusius. Neither Hooker nor the social contract which he worked out in his Ecclesiastical Polity (from 1594) can concern us here. On the other hand, Althusius and his Politica methodice digest a of 1603 present us with a considerable problem, which, however we can only touch upon here. Althusius taught for nearly twenty years at the university of Herborn, where thinking was largely determined by the notion of the religious covenant and the conception of the kingdom of God. In his comprehensive social doctrine, contractual notions assume a central position. He sees the establishment of social units - ranging from the family to the Empire itself, with the corporation, the congregation and the territorial state as intermediate stages - as resulting from a repeated process of alliance (consociatio). 'Politics is the art of alliance', he says {Politica est ars consociandi). Every alliance (pactum) is by nature contractual. Its constitutive elements are law (ius) and mutual obligation; beside the purely legal principle there is a moral and religious principle. Hence the element of reciprocity obtaining under feudal conditions (mutual help and counsel, loyalty given and received, Pol. II, 3) is retained. The leader of any community acquires his position as a result of contractual agreements, even the supreme magistrate of the consociatio mixta public a universalis, the Emperor himself. In chapter XIX Althusius speaks of the contractum reciprocum by which the ruler and the people (or its representatives, the ephors) undertake to observe conscientiously what they l\ave promised. The Emperor's electoral capitulation is mentioned, here called obligatio vicissim. Althusius bases his teaching on the existing institutions of the Empire, but he consciously adopts an archaizing federalist approach to social and constitutional affairs. He refers to the Spanish writers on natural law, to Huguenot writers, and to the author of the Vindiciae. Later, as a syndic of the strictly Calvinist town of Emden, he greatly increased the number of biblical quotations in the new edition of his Politics. There can be no doubt that he was a true Calvinist, as C. J. Friedrich maintains.33 Althusius weaves a fabric of horizontal and vertical contractual relations: the former, starting with the social contract, give shape to society, while the latter - chief among which is the contract with the ruler — create order within it. All are dominated by mutua obligatio, a reciprocal duty ordained by God, and an attempt is made to underpin it by institutions. Though Althusius may have exceeded the biblical basis, he does not omit to mention the pactum religiosum in his discussion of the supreme magistrate (XIX, 34). True, the religious covenant is not described in detail until the 33

When this chapter was first published as a separate article in 1958 I expressed some doubt as to the Calvinist basis of Althusius' work. After several readings of his Politica methodice digesta I now have none. Cf. P. J. Winters, Die 'Politik' des Johannes Althusius und ihre zeitgenossischen Quellen,

Freiburg 1963, pp. 153-60 and 255-8. 150

The religious covenant and the social contract chapter on ecclesiastical administration (XXVIII, 15. 16. 17. 23). The examples of the Old Testament covenants are repeated. The idea of the covenant is displaced from the central position it occupied in the Vindiciae. The biblical and theological basis of the contractual theory is replaced by one involving moral philosophy and natural law as developed by the humanists of the Salamanca school, though not always openly. Suarez having re-christianized natural law, it became for a while more Christian under Grotius. The great process of secularization, the 'de-theologizing' of the world, did not follow a straight course. This is also true of the development of the modern state. Whatever literature appeared subsequently on the continent in connection with the social contract affords only the merest glimpse of the religious motives that were at work in the decade of struggle between 1570 and 1580. The reason is probably to be discovered in the internal conditions of the continental states. The Huguenot church was officially recognized by Henry IV in 1598. This recognition gave it security. In the new climate of toleration, the constitutional doctrine of the French Protestants could now take a more positive attitude to the state and the monarchy. In the northern Netherlands too there was religious security. Here, in the special conditions created by middle-class capitalism, the natural and international law cultivated by secular humanism soon gained a large influence over constitutional theory and practice. We hear less and less of the religious covenant from the continental adherents of the contractual theory, though in the conflict with Calvinist neo-scholasticism it was elaborated into a grandiose theology of the covenant. The only groups who remained true to the idea of the biblical covenant and its implications were the English Puritans, in their fierce conflicts with Anglicanism and the monarchy, and the Scottish Presbyterians, in their struggle against the king. The Covenant was invoked again and again as a model for a political constitution, interpreted in moral and legal terms. We cannot here follow up all the variations of covenant thinking from the curious Mayflower Compact,34 through the colonial plantation treaties, to the covenant principle of the Puritan revolution, where the duplex foedus of the Vindiciae lived on in the ' Covenant of the king with the Lord' or the ' Covenant betwixt the king and the people'.35 It was this which moved the anti-Puritan absolutist 34

35

In the Mayflower Compact of 11 November 1620 we r e a d : ' . . . D o by these Presents, solemnly and mutually in the Presence of God and one another covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil Body Politick, for our better Ordering and Preservation and Furtherance of the Ends aforesaid'. Basic American Documents edited by G. B. de Huszar, H. W. and A. Littlefield, Ames, Iowa (no year), p. 7. Cf, for instance, A. S. P. Woodhouse, Puritanism and liberty, being the Army Debates {i64j-i64g) from the Clarke manuscripts, London 1951, p. 2O7f In the same year the old covenant and the covenant of grace were cited as models in the debates on the free church. In the introduction

The constitutional development of the early modern state Thomas Hobbes to issue his reply, which we mentioned early on in this chapter. The real and enduring influence of covenant thinking is to be observed among the Puritan emigrants in America. Perry Miller speaks of the 'immense' importance of the doctrine in the intellectual life of America, drawing the obvious comparison with the much smaller impact it had in Europe. In the fourth book of his erudite work, under the significant heading 'Sociology', he devotes separate chapters to the covenant of grace, the social covenant, and the church covenant.36 They illustrate how in New England, and also in Massachusetts and Connecticut, theologians and politicians found in the principle of the covenant the theoretical basis for the redemption of man, the building of society, and the organization of the church. The contractual idea thus constitutes a fundamental principle of Puritanism. The intensity with which the covenant idea was entertained in Scotland is shown by the resistance to the introduction of the Anglican church statutes. In his history of England, Ranke justly observed that people were in the difficult situation of'either expecting to be tried or excommunicated or else having to break their compact with God'. All this led, in 1638, to the most famous of the Scottish convenants,37 which was regarded, like that of 1581, 'as a covenant of the nation - within itself and with God, for it was sworn by the great name of God'. The act of mutual assistance was solemnly read and signed in the church of Blackfriars in Edinburgh. There was as much religious fanaticism behind the covenant as love of liberty. In word and deed the people of Scotland put into practice the theories which had been developed, according to Dunning,38 by Languet and Buchanan. Relying on the covenants of the Old Testament, the signatories pledged themselves to maintain the order of their church services and to show reverence towards the king, so long as he concurred with the laws of church and parliament. For a brief period of continental history and over a longer span of British and American history one can observe a close link, even an inner harmony,

36

37

38

Woodhouse investigates the background of the covenant in English Congregationalism. Especially for separatism, the covenant became the basic personal experience and the corner-stone of church life. A. Peel, The Christian Basis of Democracy, London 1943, assumes, no doubt rightly, that political democracy was learned from the democratically structured church congregations. P. Miller, op. cit. (above, n. 13), pp. 365-97, 398-431, 432-62. See also 'Covenant' in the index. The second volume of Miller's work, From Colony to Province, Cambridge, Mass. 1953, traces the ideas from 1660 to 1730. Reprinted in S. R. Gardiner, The Constitutional Documents of the Puritan Revolution, 1625-1660, Oxford 3 1951, pp. 124-34. The 'mutual and solemn league and covenant' of 1643 between England and Scotland is reproduced on pp. 267-71. We cannot here give an account of the historical compacts of the English revolution, the contracts with the army and the people. W. A. Dunning, A History of Political Theories from Luther to Montesquieu, New York 1923, vol. 11, p. 224.

152

The religious covenant and the social contract between the idea of the religious covenant and the doctrine of the political contract, whether it was the social contract or the contract with the ruler. The state and society were held to be an alliance in the sight of God, analogous to the religious community, which was an alliance of God with man. At first the contractual theory of ancient and medieval times had hardly any part to play. The new ideal of the state and the community founded upon a contract was supported by religious enthusiasm: it represented the Calvinist conception of society. On the continent it soon assimilated the doctrines of natural law developed by Spanish moral philosophers and legists. Judaeo-Christian theology was interpreted in terms of Roman private law and European feudal law. The concept of mutua obligatio was common to all three and led to cross-fertilization: theological matters could be elucidated in legal terms, legal matters could be given theological profundity, and ethical statements could be made in both disciplines. There was a constant crossing of boundaries, as we should see it today. This was encouraged by the claims made by moral theology and moral philosophy, which sought to regulate human conduct as such (this being the province of ethics), the building of the smallest administrative and economic unit (economy being originally the study of household management) and of the largest communal structure (politics being the study of human consociation). Theology, Roman law and feudal ideology all contributed their peculiar elements to contractual theory of the state - the Old Testament idea of the covenant, the Roman idea of the verbal contract or stipulation and the feudal idea of reciprocal loyalty. Jewish, Latin, and Germanic ways of thought combined to give the Calvinist doctrine of the social contract not only depth and authority, but religious, legal, and moral integrity. The new doctrine, together with the inroads made by Roman law and the interpretation of mutua obligatio in terms of a pact or contract, had the effect of relaxing the rigid medieval system of contracts based on status and bringing in a climate of contractual freedom. In contrast with the immutable principle of status, contractual thinking bore witness to the realization that conditions might change and that in certain political situations changes were possible, even inevitable. This conception of historical inevitability and inexorable necessity might have created the possibility of contact with the world of political ideas emanating from Machiavelli, a world that was utterly different in its make-up and its aims. However, by contrast with the sober reason of state preached by Machiavelli, the dominant idea of mutual obligation produced a religious and ethical bond. Subsequently the theological starting point was largely forgotten, and the only way ahead led in the direction of a conception of the state which was based on Stoic ideas and natural law and informed by

The constitutional development of the early modern state a sense of moral obligation. The Calvinists who taught the theory of the state contract took up the fight against religious oppression in conformity with their theology and mindful of the covenants of the Old Testament. These covenants were still being invoked in the debates and pamphlets of the English revolution.39 Here too there was a controversy, which has hitherto received scant attention, as to whether the contractual theory of government was founded on the covenant of grace or on natural right. This seems to go some way towards explaining why the symbol of the religious covenant, once so potent in the struggle for a more liberal political system, lost its force again in the progress towards democracy. On the continent the idea of the religious covenant, interpreted in corporative and feudal terms, was no doubt felt to be reactionary. Presumably also the penetrating analyses of Hobbes, which were entirely in keeping with the progressive 'de-theologizing' of existence, helped to sever the connection between the religious and the political covenant. And so, in a world that had changed politically and spiritually, it was possible for the contractual theory of government, relying on natural law and lacking any direct, concrete reference to religious and constitutional reality, to acquire the reputation of being a pure construct. 39

Cf. on this the valuable short work by Heinrich Dietz, Die Grosse Englische Revolution. Wechselwirkungen ihrer religib'sen und politischen Dynamik, Schloss Laupheim, Wiirttemberg 1956. Dietz

draws attention to the 'New England Way', the return of large numbers of English independents from Holland and North America to England after 1640; they naturally brought the covenant idea with them. (ibid. p. 2if.). For the connection between Vindiciae, Althusius, and Milton with regard to contractual thinking cf. also J. Bohatec, England und die Geschichte der Menschen- und Biirgerrechte, Graz/Cologne 1956, pp. 87-98, and the more general work of J. H. M. Salmon, The French Religious Wars in English Political Thought, Oxford 1959.

154

4

Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century

On a visit to the princely library of Wolfenbiittel in 1707, Christian Thomasius discovered a partial print of the Political Testament of Dr Melchior von Osse, who had been chancellor to the Elector of Saxony in the mid sixteenth century. This was a manual on the government and administration of a German territorial state. Thomasius decided to have it printed in full, and accordingly it appeared in 1717 in afinequarto volume of over 500 pages 'for the use of Thomasius' audience'.1 The work gives a detailed account of ' police' in the sense of' civil organization' or ' the regulation, discipline, and control of a community; civil administration; enforcement of law; public order'.2 Starting from a passage in Aristotle's Politics, which is quoted freely as 'policiam esse ordinem quendam inhabitancium in principando et in subjiciendo', Osse states that there are ' four necessary things which pertain to the good police of a country or town: princeps, consilium, pretorium et populus\

One sees at once how

comprehensively Osse uses the term 'police', and how little it has in common with the narrow modern sense of' the department of government which is concerned with the maintenance of public order and safety, and the enforcement of the law' or ' the civil force to which is entrusted the duty of maintaining public order, enforcing regulations for the prevention and punishment of breaches of the law, and detecting crime'.3 The way in which the four Latin words cited above were understood is made clear by their German renderings: 'ein regent und oberher; guter weiser rat; unparteiische gute gerichtbarkeit und ein from gehorsam volk' ('a ruler and overlord; good, wise counsel; good, impartial jurisdiction; a well-behaved and obedient people').4 The object is to keep the community 1

2

3

4

Here quoted from O. A. Hecker (ed.), Schriften Dr. Melchiors von Osse. Mit einem Lebensabriss und einem Anhange von Brief en und Akten, Leipzig/Berlin 1922. These are the second and third senses listed in the OED; the former is stated to be obsolete, and the latter is no longer current. [Translator] These are the fourth and fifth senses listed in the OED; only the latter is now current. The German word Polizei has undergone a similar restriction of meaning. In his German text the author uses the older spelling Policey to match the obsolete sense. In the English version this is indicated by quotation marks. [Translator] Ed. cit., p. 457.

155

The constitutional development of the early modern state thriving so that the subjects may prosper in wealth and property and that everything hindering the common good may be prevented. The subjects for their part have two obligations towards the ruler, respect and obedience. For Osse the term 'regiment' (i.e. 'rule or government over a person, people, or country'; 'the ruling or governing of a person, people, or country')5 is a major term embracing both government or 'police' and justice or jurisdiction. Osse's is probably the fullest interpretation of the term 'police' in early modern times. For him it was identical both with the government and with the object and nature of the community as a whole. When and in what connection do we first encounter the term 'police' (Policey) in German-speaking Europe? It is found first in the towns, and subsequently in the territories: in Wiirzburg in 1476, in Niirnberg in ordinances of the town council ('Regiment und Pollicei') of 1482 and 1485, in the Electorate of Mainz ('Regiment und Pollucy') in 1488. From the early sixteenth century we find the combination 'police and good order' or 'good police and order'. 'Police' thus means the same as 'regiment'. Its aim was to produce a well ordered civic or territorial community.6 This conception of' police' soon gave rise to the claim on the part of the ruling authorities to a general competence in the combating of all social disorders for which law and custom did not provide a remedy. The object was to provide regulations for the 'common benefit' and to establish a 'well ordered republic', as the Strasbourg police ordinance of 1628 puts it. The social disorders which had to be remedied were due to a number of causes. The pull of the towns in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and their growing need for labour led to an increasing drift from the countryside. Some of the new inhabitants were active and industrious; others were misfits. They all had to adapt to new life-styles for which rural customs and traditions were an inadequate preparation. The increased density of population led to stresses which had not been felt hitherto and which lowered the threshold of tolerance towards the unrestricted development of personal life-styles and towards diversity and deviation from a certain norm, so that inevitably new modes of life evolved. A further factor was the failure of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the result of which was that many matters which had formerly been regulated by the Church moved within the purview of the secular authorities. In the late 5

6

Ibid., p. 382. The senses given here are the first and fourth listed in the OED; the former is stated to be rare, the latter obsolete. [Translator] On the history of the concept see H. Maier, Die dltere deutsche Staats- und Verwaltungslehre (Polizeirvissenschafi). Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der politischen Wissenschaft in Deutschland, Neuwied 1966, pp. n6ff., with further references to the primary and secondary literature on the subject. The sources are now available in G. K. Schmelzeisen (ed.), Polizei- und Landesordnungen (2 vols.), Cologne 1968-9. In 1673 Grimmelshausen spoke of'wahrer Policey'. See S. Penkert, 'Dreihundert Jahre danach: Unbekannte Grimmelshausen-Handschriften', Jahrbuch der Deutschen Schillergesellschaft xvn (1973) i8f.

156

' Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century Middle Ages almost every town in the Empire issued edicts concerning blasphemy, adultery, seduction, gaming, excessive drinking, ostentatious expenditure, and so forth. The new problems posed by crowded living and the increased possibilities of friction, together with the alarming migrations due to plagues, led to wide-ranging 'police' activity in the towns before it was taken up in the rural territories. Now it was necessary to achieve the acculturation of the immigrants by issuing further rules on hygiene, social ethics and conduct in the economic sphere. The authorities were reacting to a challenge; the town councils, often in response to pressure from the citizens, acted at first by issuing separate decrees, and subsequently by publishing comprehensive 'police ordinances'. The pattern set by the towns was copied by the territorial rulers - again often at the instance of the estates. Finally the Imperial Diet promulgated the great imperial police ordinances of 1530, 1548 and 1577. The nascent modern state too, with its new institutions and its new areas of social and economic activity answering to new national needs, required new forms and new guidelines for public behaviour. The necessity for regulations in town and country produced a regulation-mania. Greater social complexity brought a greater deployment of authority. People had to be 'coached', as it were, for the tasks created by the more populous society and the claims which it made on its citizens. Greater numbers led to new social categories. The concept of' police' covered the authority which the ruler arrogated to himself to issue commands and prohibitions. The new structure of command and obedience contributed to a further break-up of feudal society. The tendency towards the establishment of internal sovereignty within the states of the Empire in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries produced absolutist regimes in many of them, but not in all. Such internal sovereignty was intimately linked with the phenomenon of'police'. The evolution of trade and industry resulted in an expansion of production and also in greater diversity. The money economy increased enormously, and so did money-lending at interest. The towns of South Germany profited from the growing wholesale trade. Faced with the increasing division of labour and the resulting interdependence, the existing organization and ethics of the gilds proved inadequate. Throughout the country a need was felt for measures to regulate economic and professional life; these were just as vital as the earlier regulations for health, streetcleaning, fire-prevention, building and traffic had been in the towns. It was on the basis of these edicts and the control they exercised that the character of government developed in both town and state. No great distinction was made as yet between public and private law. Hence it is understandable that 'police and order' represented an attempt to regulate not only public, but also private life. To give some impression of the number and variety of the areas for which i57

The constitutional development of the early modern state regulations were made, we may list the items that were covered by the big police ordinance for 1628 for the free imperial city of Strasbourg.7 Large parts of it went back to older edicts and decrees, now codified and adapted to the needs of the day. Its aim is stated to be the correction of'disorder and contempt of good laws.. .all kinds of wrong-doing, sin and vice'. A Christian justification and divine punishment for the correction of disobedience and infringements of the laws governing conduct was characteristic of many police ordinances of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Heading the list of matters it covered were moral questions such as Sunday observance, divine service, sorcery, blasphemy, cursing and perjury. Then followed sections on the upbringing of children, the keeping of domestics, expenditure on weddings and christenings, and the dealings between innkeepers and guests. Next came comprehensive sumptuary regulations, and sections relating to begging and almsgiving, the status of Jews, the prevention of usury and monopolies, and conditions for the carrying trade by middle-men. In the economic sphere there were sections on faked goods and bankruptcy. More general rules related to gaming, breaches of the peace, libel and slander. Finally came the rules limiting funeral celebrations. Comprehensive though it was, the Strasbourg police ordinance dealt with by no means all the items that came under the rubric of'police' elsewhere. It contained, for instance, no regulations on trade, on weights and measures, on brewing and baking, on the sale of goods and the serving of drinks, i.e. on essentially economic matters. Regional requirements led to many variations in the way the regulations were promulgated. In Strasbourg such economic matters were dealt with in special market ordinances and so were omitted from the main police ordinance. At all events, it is clear from this extensive catalogue of matters covered by ' police' that virtually all public and private activity might be subject to regulations made by the authorities. How successfully they were implemented does not concern us here. With regard to the police regulations issued by the state in the era of absolutism and to other action intended to produce a new social model, I have elsewhere spoken of the' disciplining' of society and of its consequences as a fundamental process which affected every possible sphere of life and virtually all classes, groups and professions.8 With regard to urban development I would rather speak of the regulating of society. But here too the idea of discipline and order finds expression. At first the aim was 7

8

Der Statt Strassburg Policey-Ordnungy Strasbourg 1628, consists of seventeen sections. The matters treated are divided by insertions like 'dass oeconomi: Justitien: und criminal wesen hat seine sonderbare ort\ The gilds were enjoined to put the ordinance into effect. There was also a special court of morals {Zuchtgericht) with eight judges {Zuchtrichter), one of them a 'master of the town'. See below, Ch. 15, esp. pp. 267ff.

158

4

Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century

apparently simply to preserve or restore traditional Christian propriety and respectability, but subsequently the police ordinances invaded private life and laid down rules and precepts for every conceivable area of it. At the same time a start was made on educating people to a discipline of work and frugality and on changing the spiritual, moral and psychological make-up of political, military and economic man.9 In the development of urban and national government and the principles of'good police and order' one can perceive certain parallels. One scholar who has studied the conditions in Strasbourg in depth has justly said: 'It is only with difficulty that we can imagine the precision with which everyday living.. .was regulated down to the last detail; there was no area of political, economic, social and cultural life which was not subject to this all-embracing passion for order.'10 Things were little different in Niirnberg, Ulm and other big imperial cities. The topographical descriptions, town plans and engravings reveal how similar they were. There is of course no comparison between the towns of the seventeenth century and those of the nineteenth and twentieth. For Strasbourg in the seventeenth century estimates of the population fluctuate between 18,000 and 25,000. Frankfurt was probably much the same size. Niirnberg was larger, with about 40,000 inhabitants at the beginning of the Thirty Years War and about 30,000 at the end. Urban society changed with the increasing power of the authorities. The Strasbourg patriciate, comprising thirty or so families between 1600 and 1680, was augmented by an important new class which at first consisted chiefly of merchants, but later mainly of men with a university education. The lawyers came to predominate, not only as syndics and consultants to the council, but also as elected members of the privy chamber, and in most of the imperial cities of southern Germany the expanding administration was taken over by doctors of law and others with an academic background.1l In Regensburg (Ratisbon) we hear of the oppressive domination of the lawyers: 'For decades only lawyers sat in the council.'12 Similarly we hear that in Strasbourg in the seventeenth century the advocates and syndics became the real masters of the town - a phenomenon which has a parallel 9

See below, p. 265. ° U. Cramer, Die Verfassung und Verwaltung Strassburgs von der Reformationszeit bis zum Fall der Reichsstadt {1521-1681), Frankfurt 1931, p. 226. I1 T h e above and the following data I owe to P. Hertner, Stadtgesellschaft zwischen Reich und Frankreich. Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft Strassburgs 1650-1J14, Cologne/Vienna 1973, pp. ioff., pp. 20ff. 12 W. Fiirnrohr, Das Patriziat der Freien Reichsstadt Regensburg zur Zeit des Immerwdhrenden Reichstages. Eine sozialgeschichtliche Studie u'ber das Biirgertum der Barockzeit (diss.), Erlangen 1952, p. 145. See also the important comparative study by O. Brunner. * Souveranitatsproblem und Sozialstruktur in den deutschen Reichsstadten der friihen Neuzeit' in id., Neue Wege der Verfassungsund Sozialgeschichte, Gottingen 1968, pp. 294-321. I

159

The constitutional development of the early modern state in the expansion of bureaucratic power in the territorial states. It had a profound effect on urban society, for now the old indigenous families, the merchants and bankers and masters of the gilds, were joined by the new educated class of lawyers, physicians, theologians and humanists. They set the cultural tone; consequently it is of great importance to know where they stood intellectually. First, however, we must briefly touch upon the same problem as it existed at a higher level.13 State and society were not separate entities, as they were considered to be in the early nineteenth century, but formed a unity. The absolute state was an organizational replica of society as a whole, consisting of the modern absolutist society and the traditional corporative society. This means that part of society was taken over by the state and drafted into its service. These were the servants of the state in the broadest sense of the word, the absolutist society, rational in conduct, disciplined, and accustomed to commanding and obeying, which supplied the personnel for the proliferating state bodies and the ever-increasing army - both under the leadership of the monarch. The result was the upper bureaucracy educated in the law and the upper ranks of the officer corps, scientifically trained to arms - both with their respective rank and file, the sitting army of officials and the standing army of soldiers. To understand the social structure of the Baroque age we must consider the developments in political structure. The absolute state was preceded by the corporative state, the era of absolutism by the era of representative government. In the representative state the three or four ruling estates (the clergy, the upper and lower nobility, the cities, and in some states the peasants) had undisputed control over local affairs in the political, legal, administrative and economic spheres, and a disputed right to participate in political and administrative affairs in the area of central government, presided over by the prince. This was symbolized by the territorial diet, which voted taxes, by their own corporate financial adminstration, and by their role in jurisdiction. As absolutism took hold, the prince achieved a concentration of political power at the centre by intensifying his central administration and by creating his own army. The representative constitution was not actually dismantled, but undermined. The rural aristocracy and the urban patriciate were reduced to the status of mere social classes. Their function in local administration, however, was only slightly limited, and here they retained a firm basis of political and social power.14 13

14

The brilliant but neglected essay by C. Hinrichs, 'Staat und Gesellschaft im Barockzeitalter' in id., Preussen ah historisches Problem. Gesammelte Abhandlungen (ed. by G. Oestreich), Berlin 1964, pp. 205-26, gives a picture of the whole European development, starting with the French court. See G. Oestreich, Verfassungsgeschichte vom Ende des Mittelalters bis zum Ende des alt en Reiches {— Gebhardt, Handbuch der deutschen Geschichte, Bd. 11), Munich 1974, pp. 906°. Also ch. n below. 160

4

Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century

The society of the early modern state thus had an unchanged corporative and hierarchic structure which was guaranteed and protected by the priveleges granted and confirmed by the prince. The burghers of the towns were soon integrated into the absolute state; economically they came under the powerful direction and protection of the bureaucracy in the mercantilist policies of the state. The peasantry remained the beast of burden, labouring for the state and the privileged classes. The rationalist trend of the period had not yet led to the depersonalizing of national life. The personal element was still uppermost, visibly embodied in the prince, the undisputed head of the state, the court and society as a whole, in the hierarchies of the civil service and the officer corps, and in the old class structures in town and country. Constitutional writings still presented a personalized picture of the prince, endowed with the virtues and values of a good ruler and committed to the common good,15 mirrors of princes with reason of state added. The conception of the ruler was handed down unchanged from antiquity and the Middle Ages. Only the forms changed; these were determined by the realities and requirements of the early modern period; it was these realities and requirements which shaped the Baroque image of the ruler.16 The three main phenomena in the life of the state were bureaucracy, militarism and mercantilism. The cost of the contemporary arms race, which was accepted on all sides, made it essential to increase economic yields. T^hese had to meet the needs of the military and also to maintain the growing administration of these early versions of the welfare state. Bureaucracy, militarism and mercantilism spread their influence far beyond their own allotted spheres and set the tone of absolutist society at large - a society characterized by authority, discipline, and the systematic raising of levels of achievement. The cities, with the concept of 'police', led the way in the regulation of society, setting the pattern for the territories, while in these the idea of prudentia civilis was spread by a new ruling elite educated in the universities. Humanists played an important role in the political and intellectual life of society. Humanism decanted the political wisdom from the classical philosophers and historians into collections of maxims and aphorisms which were digested more to meet the needs of modern times than to reflect the real views of the ancients. Classical literature became, as it were, a work of reference; Roman institutions supplied models for the solution of 1s

16

The first German rendering of the concept of'reason of state' is interesting. G. Botero's work Delia ragion di stato of 1589 appeared in German in 1596 as Jfohannis Boteri Griindlicher Bericht von Anordnung guter Polizeien und Regiments: auch Fursten und Herren standes. E. Straub, Repraesentatio Majestatis oder churbayerische Freudenfeste, Munich 1969, p, 146°.;

S. Skalweit, 'Das Herrscherbild des 17. Jahrhunderts\ Historische Zeitschrift 184 (1957) 65-80; J. Freiherr von Kruedener, Die Rolle des Hofes im Absolutismus, Stuttgart 1973. 161

The constitutional development of the early modern state contemporary problems. In the moral philosophy of the seventeenth century the leading elements were Stoicism and Aristotle. The ancient world exercised a similar domination in the practical sciences of husbandry, warfare, medicine and jurisprudence.17 The major concept in politics was prudentia civilis or prudentia politica. This embraced the whole area of the training of princes and the education of their advisers, the new bureaucracy and, not least, the military. At the same time it took in all the institutions of the early modern state. Political ethics, like prescriptions for private morality, gave direct precepts for practical conduct. At the universities education was directed not to the transmission of knowledge, but to the training of men for active life. Jesuit and Calvinist teachers alike, at schools and universities, insisted on the constant revision of what had been learnt and on the training of the will, the aim being the attainment of virtus socialis, active involvement in social life.18 At this period there was a flood of writings on political science, foremost among them was the Politics of Lipsius. A writer who belonged to this tradition was Georg Schonborner of Schonborn, who employed Gryphius as tutor to his children, and who brought out his Politicorum libri septem in 1609 (fifth edition 1630). In whichever confessional or non-confessional camp these works appeared - and they were often only minimally aligned with a particular confession - they all had, in contrast tp Aristotle's Politics, a common orientation towards the needs of the early modern monarchic state and its ruling class. This literature was studied in German universities up to the eighteenth century to varying extents. Lipsius' Politics - which saw ninety-six editions, if we include translations - was published twice more in the Habsburg capital even after 1750.19 These works treated the individual areas of constitutional life from the point of view of ancient prudentia and Roman Stoic virtus. Some authors tried to combine Aristotle and modern reason of state in a spirit of Christian Stoicism. They all reinforced the idea of authority, the government of state and town, and the imposition of discipline on the subjects. This was what the lawyers were taught at the universities, where there was a proliferation of new chairs in political science. In the seventeenth century politics was a proper subject in its own right. For instance, at Leiden between 1613 and 1697 there were 762 students registered to read politics, with or without history, law, or mathematics. Admittedly, these figures are not enormous 17

18

G. Oestreich, 'Die antike Literatur als Vorbild der praktischen Wissenschaften im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert' in R. R. Bolgar (ed.), Classical Influences on European Culture, AD 1500-1700, Cambridge 1976. See also above, Introduction, pp. iff. G. Miiller, Bildung und Erziehung im Humanismus der italienischen Renaissance, Wiesbaden 1969, I9 pp. 426f. See above, Part I. 162

i

Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century

and account for only 2.2% of all the students who matriculated, but it is interesting to note, given the generally fluid delimitation of subjects, that politics had its own special designation.20 Together with the princes, the bureaucracies of the states and the towns and the military organization were affected by the discipline of prudentia civilis.21 A year after the first German translation of Lipsius' Politics had been printed, the same printer brought out a book entitled Votn Burgerlichen Standt ('Of the civic estate'), written by P. Negelein, a court clerk and notary public.22 It attempted to transfer the political and moral doctrines of Neostoicism from kings and princes to the middle class, the 'community of citizens'. Negelein emphasized the importance of the schools and said that they must teach virtue and prudence - that is virtus and prudentia. At several points he referred directly to Lipsius. Treating authority and reputation, he quotes the definition of Roman gravitas ' as given by Justus Lipsius in his Polities'. It seems significant that Negelein should cite Lipsius as his crown witness in connection with the doctrine of reputation, which was a central issue in the discussions of authority to be found in constitutional writings. Fortune, moderation, sobriety, self-discipline - the whole system of values is transferred from the heroic plane of Stoicism and acquires bourgeois traits. Out of the heroic, aristocratic ideal of daring and trusting to fortune is made a doctrine of safeguarding one's good* name and consideration for one's neighbours. Negelein follows Lipsius in construction and presentation, but not in spirit, as we see in the third part of his book, which treats of the vices which are the ruination of the middle class. Prudentia civilis is conducive to an understanding of what is useful in social and political conduct. Taken together with ethics and psychology, it always has a practical orientation. As G. Miiller says, 'the study of moral philosophy - often called simply ' study' among humanists - is conceived not as abstract knowledge of the norms and principles of morality, but as prudenza^ insight into the technique of social and political conduct'.23 Prudentia civilis or prudentia politica subordinated the individual to the 20

21

22 23

Album Studiosorum Academiae Lugduno Batavae (i575-1875). I am very grateful to Dr Hartwig Brandt for consulting the Leiden matricula and supplying the figures on which my calculation is based. In Groningen too politics was a recognized subject. It would be useful to investigate the students of politics at German universities also. In my studies on Lipsius I refer to the political schools in Strasbourg, Jena and Helmstedt in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. See also H. Maier, 'Die Lehre der Politik an den deutschen Universitaten vornehmlich vom 16. bis 18. Jahrhundert', in D. Oberndorfer (ed.), Wissenschaftliche Politik, Freiburg 1962. On the influences of Baroque heroism and Baroque formalism on the modern official cf. C. Wiedemann, * Barocksprache, Systemdenken, Staatsmentalitat', in Internationaler Arbeitskreis fiir deutsche Barockliteratur. Vortrage und Berichte, Wolfenbiittel 1973, pp. 21-51. P. Negelein, Vom Burgerlichen Standt, Amberg 1600, 2nd edn. 1607. G. Miiller, op. cit. (n. 18 above), pp. 4261".

163

The constitutional development of the early modern state purposes of the state and in effect supported moderate absolutism. It stressed obedience and discipline as necessary conditions for well-ordered government, and created the climate for the institutional reforms in town and country which were necessitated by the social, political and economic changes of the period. It taught the individual to control his own life by mastering his emotions and to subordinate himself politically without resistance. In the form of prudentia mixta it made a casuistical distinction between three degrees of deception: distrust and secrecy were recognized in the literature as necessary, as were also bribery and dissimulation, but breach of contract and infringement of the law were rejected. Thus, it was by way of dissimulation that the poison of reason of state found its way into political thought. This was a European movement24 which took hold of the whole continent and left very different marks on the different strata of society in town and country. The area which always received the closest scrutiny was the centre - the court and courtly society.25 Here, as Elias puts it, social constraint became self-constraint, manifest in the importance attached to ceremonial, which is to be seen as a prop and stay. Here too a particular image of man was presupposed - the religious conception of man at the mercy of sin, and the philosophical conception of man in thrall to the passions. These doctrines, beside those of Aristotle, were taught at the universities, the Jesuit colleges, the Calvinist grammar schools and the academies for the sons of noblemen. Probably all the Baroque poets were confronted with them,26 for, if one studied their careers, one would find that almost all of them were educated at such places of learning.27 At that period academic study was not, as it is today, narrowly vocational. Theologians, lawyers, 24

25

26

27

N. Elias, Uber den Prozess der Zivilisation. Soziogenetische und psychogenetische Untersuchungen (2 vols.) 1936, 2nd edn. Berne 1969, vol. 11, p. 2, says: 'It is not without good cause that we speak of an age of Absolutism. What this change in the form of government expresses is a change in the whole structure of western society.' On the part played by Netherlands scholars in this development see G. Oestreich, 'Justus Lipsius als Universalgelehrter zwischen Renaissance und Barock', in T. H. Lunsingh and others (eds.), Leiden University in the Seventeenth Century, Leiden 1975, pp. 177-201 and Part I of this book. N. Elias, op. cit., 11, p. iff.; id., Die hofische Gesellschaft. Untersuchungen zur Soziologiedes Konigtums und der hqfischen Aristokratie, Neuwied 1969. H. Hildebrandt, Die Staatsauffassung der schlesischen Barockdichter im Rahmen ihrer Zeit (diss.), Rostock 1939 ( = Rostocker Studien 6); D. Norr, 'Papinian und Gryphius', Zeitschrift der SavignyStiftungfur Rechtsgeschichte, Rom. Abt. 83 (1966) 308-33; G. K. Schmelzeisen, ' Staatsrechtliches in den Trauerspielen des Andreas Gryphius', Archivfiir Kulturgeschichte 53 (1971) 93-196; more generally, E. Wohlhaupter, Dichterjuristen (ed. by H. G. Seifert) vol. 3 1957, pp. 4O7ff. On the 'scholarly' foundation of German Baroque literature see W. Barner, Barockrhetorik. Untersuchungen zu ihren geschichtlichen Grundlagen, Tubingen 1970, pp. 22off. C. Wiedemann, Der gal ante Stil. 1680-1730, Tubingen 1969, pp. i6off., gives details of the education and professions of the poets. I am grateful to him for sending me a preliminary list of the hundred most important poets of the period and their professions. The figures I give are based on this list. This question should be gone into more thoroughly. We could then form a sociological picture of the poets.

164

' Police' and Prudentia civilis in the seventeenth century and medical men had studied rhetoric and poetics during their training and practised poetry as a second occupation. This historical phenomenon of the ' crossing and blending of social forces (for instance, of the courtly and the academic)'28 seems to me to be typical of Baroque poetry. The Baroque poet is always a scholar, whether he earns his professional living and his literary acclaim in urban, aristocratic, courtly or bureaucratic society. His philosophy and attitudes are at first overtly or covertly influenced by the historico-political and philosophical literature on prudentia and virtus - until the 'political' literature of worldly wisdom takes over with Weise29 and Thomasius.30 This then comes to have a bearing on constitutional realities through the historically based Public Law {jus publicum).21 A first sociological synopsis would look roughly like this: at first there is an approximate balance between clerics and officials of the court, the state, and the towns, including a few medical men, but from the last decades of the seventeenth century onwards the business of writing gallant verses is taken over mainly by lawyers. The imperial cities and the German territorial states in the Baroque period were the home of 'police', a concept publicized by Thomasius at the end of the period through his edition of Osse's work, and of prudentia politica, which Thomasius modified and made into a study of mundane manners. The Baroque poet might be a townsman, a member of the old aristocratic or the new bureaucratic society, but this was the very real ambience in which he lived - an ambience determined by the spirit of social order in the town and of absolutism in the state. 28

29

30

31

This is the formulation of W. Barner, 'Ansatze zu einer Sozialgeschichte der Barockrhetorik' Jahrbuch der Akademie, Gottingen 1972, p. 32. H. A. Horn, Christian Weise als Erneuerer des deutschen Gymnasiums im Zeitalter des Barock. Der 'Politicus' als Bildungsideal, Weinheim an der Bergstrasse 1966. On the European background see K. H. Mulagk, Phdnomene des politischen Menschen im 17. Jahrhundert. Propa'deutische Studien zum Werk Lohensteins..., Berlin 1973. R. Lieberwirth, Christian Thomasius. Sein wissenschaftliches Lebenswerk. Eine Bibliographic, Weimar 1955. Sdmtliche Werke, pp. 1-154; literature on Thomasius is listed on pp. 155-213. Cf. N. Hammerstein, Jus und Historic Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des historischen Denkens an den deutschen Universitdten im spdten 17. und 18. jfahrhundert, Gottingen 1972; K. Neumaier, Jus publicum. Studien zur barocken Rechtsgelehrsamkeit an der Universitdt Ingolstadt, Berlin 1974.

165

10

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism After the murder of the Huguenot leadership in the Night of St Bartholomew, 1572, the French Calvinists, struggling for existence, relied on the ancient notion of a polity founded upon a contract. This contract, freely concluded between ruler and people as equal partners, was thought to have established their rights and obligations for all time and to have bound the ruler to an undertaking to govern with justice and piety. Linked with this idea was the Old Testament notion of a covenant; this gave a strong moral backing to the formula of mutua obligatio embodied in Roman law. At the same time the Huguenots were attentive to the realities of their own age, the age of representative assemblies, and appealed to the existing compacts and agreements between princes and estates, to the contractual foundation of the European corporative state, and to the right of resistance. The rallying cries of the opponents of monarchy, the 'monarchomachs', spread rapidly.l The doctrine of contractual government became the basis for future contracts between princes and estates. The concept of a contract made with the sovereign dates from this period. In the twentieth century it has been attached to the older models of the high or late Middle Ages,2 the best-known of these being Magna Charta (1215), the Golden Bull of Hungary (1222), the Aragonese Privileges (1283 1

2

The texts are found in J. Dennert (ed.), Beza, Brutus, Hotman. Calvinistische Monarchomachen

(Klassiker der Politik 8), Cologne 1968. See also G. Strieker, Das politische Denken der Monarchomachen (diss.), Heidelberg 1967. Althusius summed up the contractual doctrine in one sentence: * Constitutio Magistratus est, qua ille a populo, vel nomine populi, ab Ephoris, pacto reciproco & mutuo consensu constitutus Imperium & administrationem Reipub. seu regni suscipit' (J. Althusius, Politica methodice digesta, Herborn 3 i6i4, cap. XV, pp. 1671*.). The connection between the basic terms imperium and administratio is important. The conditions of accession are stated as * to rule piously and justly in accordance with the laws'. W. Naf, * Herrschaftsvertrage und Lehre vom Herrschaftsvertrag', Schweizer Beitrdge zur Allgemeinen Geschichte 7 (1949) 26-52, esp. 438". The texts were edited by Naf under the title Herrschaftsvertrage des Spdtmittelalters (Quellen zur Neueren Geschichte hg. vom Histor. Seminar d. Univ. Bern 17), Berne 1951. The contractual doctrine is traced from ancient times up to Hegel with excerpts from texts by A. Voigt (ed.), Der Herrschaftsvertrag. Ubersetzungen von P. Badura und H. Hofmann (Politica 16), Neuwied 1965; this contains a bibliography. See also J. Gough, The Social Contract, Oxford 2 i957; I.-M. Peters, 'Der Ripener Vertrag und die Ausbildung der landstandischen Verfassung in Schleswig-Holstein', Blatterfur deutsche Landesgeschichte 109 (1973) 3o6ff., esp. notes 5, 6 and 24.

166

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism and 1287), the Joyeuse Entree of Brabant (1356) and the Treaty of Tubingen (1514). These contracts were concluded before the period of the rise of representative institutions, in its early days or at its height. They represent a reaction to the increased power and efficiency of princely rule and the demands it made on society. The corporative constitution of the estates arose through contractual agreements whose aim was to establish a social order which they had a hand in determining. The corporative state was a product of the transition from feudalism to the early modern state. A common feature of all these contracts, as regards both their contents and the way they functioned, is seen to be their concern to guarantee and strengthen the law; they are thought, too, to evince an awareness of statehood. However, these are not the only factors: they deal also with the development of government and the participation of the country in its administration. A central issue is that of the contributions and taxes due from the country. In the same spirit they broach questions of legal and administrative organization - not yet separated - and commercial life. All contributions to the government of the prince were considered extraordinary and required the approval of the estates. Increased military imposts, the planning of aggressive war, the striking of new coins, the voting of taxes and the settlement of the prince's debts with financial supervision by the estates - all such matters had been subject to contractual arrangements since Magna Charta. In other words, what was involved was not just the autonomy of the estates, the preservation of their rights and liberties {jura et libertates) and the written confirmation of corresponding privileges secured in law, but also an element of supervision over the development of the prince's government and the formation of the state. True, in most cases the monarchy was superior to the estates in organizational and governmental talent, but one essential condition for the formation of the state, the integrity of the territory, was defended by the estates against the dynastic interests of the ruling house. It was laid down in the contractual instruments that the territory might not be divided or land and populations ceded to another ruler without the consent of the estates. It was particularly important, when a foreign prince took over the country, that its legal system should remain independent and that only indigenous officials should be appointed (the so-called Indigenatsrecht). At the same time, as the agreements show, the estates understood that their obligation to give advice and aid included providing financial support for the national administration and its policies, and also for their supervision.3 The terms of a contract between the prince and the estates only rarely 3

For greater detail see G. Oestreich and I. Auerbach, 'Standische Verfassung' in Sowjetsystem und Demokratische Gesellschaft. Eine vergleichende Enzyklopddie 6, Freiburg 1972, col. 21 iff., esp. 2i8ff.

(reprinted in Strukturprobleme der friihen Neuzeit, Berlin 1980, pp. 161-200).

167

The constitutional development of the early modern state encroached upon the area of the court and central government. This was reserved to the royal prerogative, the domain of the prince, and was regarded as his cameral sphere. It was only when monarchical government failed - during minorities or dynastic quarrels, at times when the ruler was ill or absent, or when the ruling house was otherwise impeded in the exercise of its functions - that the estates claimed the right to take over the government of the country. This was done, not by means of constitutional agreements which would conform with the concept of a ruling contract, but by special dispositions for governing the country, usually of limited duration.4 The theory of contractual rule, as developed by the sixteenth-century monarchomachs, was dominated by the idea of mutua obligatio, mutua pactio, a reciprocal bond between prince and estates, ruler and people, supported by the biblical doctrine of the covenant, the Old Testament foedus duplex between God and the people on the one hand, and between the king and the people on the other.5 The contracts with the ruler and similar documents which gave reality to the mutua obligatio took a number of forms. Whether they were electoral capitulations, recesses of the European assemblies, compacts and agreements, confirmations of privileges or conditions of homage, they regulated and controlled certain areas of public life. No theory characterizes the principal features of the age of the representative constitution more aptly than they do. The Calvinist doctrine of representative institutions matured into a general contractual theory of political life; this subsequently influenced men's thinking about natural law, central to which was the idea of the contractual basis of the state, from early modern times until the Age of Enlightenment. The English absolutists, such as King James I 6 or Thomas Hobbes, discussed the contractual theory in their writings on the state,7 for the ecclesiastical and political practice of Puritanism in England was dominated by the idea of the covenant. The idea of mutual contracts had its protagonists also in the imperial and national assemblies of the continent. A general atmosphere developed which favoured the drafting of comprehensive pacta reciproca, written contracts concerning government, and finally constitutional documents which were more specific versions of the older ruling contracts. 4

Best known are the ordinances of the Holy Roman Empire for 1500 and 1521. (K. Zeumer, Quellensammlung zur Geschichte der deutschen Reichsverfassung in Mittelalter und Neuzeit, Tubingen 2

5 6

io,i3, nos. 177 (pp. 297-307) and 182 (pp. 318-24). Cf. above, Ch. 8. C. H. Mcllwain (ed.), The Political Works of James /, New York 1965, p. 68f. James I's treatise The Trew Law of Free Monarchies: or the Reciprock and Mutuall Dutie Betwixt a Free King, and

7

his Naturall Subjects of 1598 indicates the formula in its title. In the text he uses such terms as 'mutuall pactation', 'contract betwixt two parties' and 'contractors'. The individual passages are treated by W. Forster, Thomas Hobbes und der Puritanismus, Berlin 1969, p. 74ff.

168

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism Side by side with the elaboration of religious and legal thinking about contractual arrangements, a development was taking place in the monarchical administration of the state, the growth of which Trevor-Roper describes forcefully and sees as partly responsible for ' the crisis of the seventeenth century'.8 The early seventeenth century was a time of change from polyarchic monarchy with estate participation to monistic sovereignty. With its public functions increasing, in both internal and external politics, the control of the state over all social relations and interests made enormous strides. The existing contracts, however, did not adequately guarantee representative participation in the bureaucratic expansion of the early modern state with its consolidation of central government; this was taking place independently of developments in representative institutions. The old agreements had originally dealt in the main with the general conditions of late feudal representative monarchy and had provided methods to insure that these conditions were kept; the later contracts of the sixteenth century concerned the immutable legal and moral relation between the prince and the estates, guaranteeing local, regional and religious privileges. What mattered now, however, was the influence of the estates over the increasingly solid institutions of political rule, centred in the court and the residence. A struggle now began against a power which was trying to set aside the advisory or executive institutions of the estates of the monarchia mixta in the spheres of government, administration, and the law. Until now the supervisory function of the estates had been secured on a personal level; now they demanded an active role in central government and the documentation of all governmental and administrative functions in this central area, which was increasingly imbued with the spirit of Bodinian sovereignty. The further development of these written statements of political functions within the framework of a changing society and economy led, after the periods of representative monarchy and absolutism, to the constitutions of the present day. It has been their function, since the written constitutions of the North American states and the French Revolution,9 to define 'the total structure of the state in a single written document' and to lay down 8

9

Trevor-Roper has more than once described the 'Renaissance State', 1500-1600. It is for him 'a great and expanding bureaucracy, a huge system of administrative centralisation, staffed by an ever-growing multitude of "courtiers" and "officers'". (H. R. Trevor-Roper, 'The General Crisis of the 17th Century', Past and Present 16 (1959) 42). I cannot go into the extensive discussion arising from Trevor-Roper's crisis theory, but I regard it as important in the present connection, since the history of institutions and social history are closely related. Cf. T. Aston (ed.) Crisis in Europe, 1560-1660. Essays from Past and Present, London 1965. W. Naf, 'Der Durchbruch des Verfassungsgedankens im 18. Jahrhundert', Schweizer Beitrdge zur Allgemeinen Geschichte n (1953) 108-20; O. Hintze, 'Der Durchbruch des biirgerlichdemokratischen Nationalstaates in der amerikanischen und der franzosischen Revolution', id. Staat und Verfassung, Gesammelte Abhandlungen 1 (3rd edn. by G. Oestreich), Gottingen 1970, pp. 503-10.

169

The constitutional development of the early modern state 'certain basic propositions concerning its essential structure'. 10 Under the constitutional monarchies of the nineteenth century, such instruments were agreed mainly between the ruler and the elected national assembly. They determined the areas of competence proper to the different organs of state, the king, the government, the national assembly and the law, as well as state bodies like the civil service and the army; in addition they laid down the principles underlying the cultural, social and economic order. As in the case of all historical development, the line from contractual monarchy to modern constitutionalism was not straight. Only in the organization of the government apparatus can one see a purposeful development. The other side of political life, the part played by representative institutions,11 suffered a severe setback in the age of Absolutism and was realized only piecemeal, in new forms and in a new spirit, by revolutionary acts. In the period of representative constitutions we find the most varied attempts on the part of the estates to secure participation in the organs of state which were evolving under the guidance of the sovereign, in the expanding administrative and legal apparatus, in military affairs, and particularly in the financial and fiscal sphere. We find numerous moves being made in this direction in the grievances and remonstrances, in the ordinances proposed either by individual estates or by the full representative body, in renewals of privileges, in resolutions of the imperial diet and the state assemblies, in the drafting of electoral capitulations, charters, and royal promises. The gravamina or cahiers represent a great field for comparative research in representative government, for they contain the actual picture of the state and society seen from the point of view of the estates themselves. It is important that they should be examined, for only when they have been shall we be able to describe the corporative system in its entirety, because only then shall we see fully how the estates understood, both intellectually and politically, the problem of the early modern period, which was (in the words of Naf)' how a government and a country could combine to become a state \ Only then shall we be able to document afresh the underlying shift of power towards solidly organized political institutions. It is not enough to analyse and reanalyse the liberties and privileges of the corporations and the standing orders, rights and functions of the assemblies. Instead we must reconstruct from their demands and grievances the legal, economic and social order they sought, the political aims that were envisaged in the corporative state. Only by doing this can we hope to understand and reconstruct the gradual transformation both of the estates and of their comprehension of the state and society during the historical development 10 11

H. Heller, Staatslehre, Leiden 1934, p. 270. On the meaning of the word' representation' at this period see H. Hofmann, Reprdsentation. Studien zur Wort- und Begriffsgeschichte von der Antike bis ins ig. jfahrhundert, Berlin 1974, pp. 3366*". 170

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism that took place in the early modern period. We still do not know how the estates and their assemblies saw themselves between the mid-sixteenth and the mid-seventeenth centuries. On the one hand we rely far too much on the great theoreticians of representative government and their abstract models, which are all too often out of step with pragmatic views or at variance with the demands of practical estate politicians; on the other hand we direct our attention too single-mindedly to the onset of the age of monarchical absolutism, which we tend to interpret in an all too monistic In the period around 1650 there is a striking proliferation of written 'forms of government'. There are documents from England (1653), Sweden (1634), the Holy Roman Empire (1648), Pomerania (1634) and Ducal Prussia (1661); these have not yet been considered jointly as products of the transition to the modern constitutional state. Four of them, significantly, have the word 'government' in their titles: the English 'Instrument of Government' or 'The Government of the Commonwealth of England', the Swedish regeringsform, the Pomeranian Regierungsform, and the Prussian Regierungsverfassung. However, at this period the German term Regierung embraced more than it does now, just as today the English word 'government' has a wider meaning than the German word, denoting the total political system, both executive and parliament.13 The occasion for the emergence of these documents was the confrontation between demands for guarantees of representative government and the ruler's efforts to achieve sovereignty, between the liberty of the nobles and the rule of the king, between corporative opposition and the early modern state. 'The seventeenth century is a century of revolts.'14 The French Fronde (1648-53) was an open civil war against the principle 12 13

14

Cf. below, Ch. 15. The English word ' government' still has two senses - ' the ruling authority in a state' and ' the organization of the state'; see E. Fraenkel, Das amerikanische Regierungssystem, Cologne i960, pp. i8if. and note. On the more extensive sense of'gouvernement' in Bodin and his contemporaries cf. H. Quaritsch, Staat und Souverdnitat I, Die Grundlagen, Frankfurt 1970, pp. 3o8ff. W. Rothschild, Der Gedanke der geschriebenen Verfassung in der englischen Revolution, Tubingen 1903, p. 28, n. 1, often uses the word 'government' in the sense of * constitution' or 'constitutional instrument'; this is suggested to him by Carlyle's interpretation of a speech by Cromwell. For mid-seventeenth century see W. Frotscher, Regierung als Rechtsbegriff. Verfassungsrechtliche und staatstheoretische Grundlagen unter Berucksichtigung der englischen und franzb'sischen Verfassungsentwicklung, Berlin 1975. Frotscher deals with England on pp. i7ff., France on pp. 44ff. and Germany on pp. 83*!". The term ' Regierungsform' goes back to Bodin, who distinguished in 1576 between the state and the government: 'L'estat d'une Republique est different du gouvernement & administration d'icelle.' Cf. H. Quaritsch, op. cit., pp. 3O5fF. and H. Denzer, 'Bodins Staatsformenlehre', id. (ed.), Jean Bodin. Verhandlungen der internationalen Bodin-Tagung in Miinchen, Munich 1973, pp. 233-44. R. Mousnier, V Assassinat £ Henri IV, Paris 1964. On the controversy between Porshnev and Mousnier over the significance and character of the popular revolts cf. the literature listed by H. Kretzer, Calvinismus und franzosische Monarchic itn ij.Jahrhundert, Berlin 1975, pp. 20 and 42. Also D. Parker, 'The Social Foundation of French Absolutism', Past and Present 53 (1971). 171

The constitutional development of the early modern state of the absolutist state.15 It led to various proposals for the organization of the state and society made by the estates and corporations, which were divided among themselves. France's supreme court of law, the Parlement de Paris, expressed its views most clearly in an interesting document of June and July 1648, in association with the cours souveraines of finance and accounts; these were firmly in the hands of the noblesse de robe through the sale of offices, and they possessed political rights.16 The document proposed, in twenty-seven articles, 'a programme for political and administrative revolution',17 a plan for a limited government constitution. The very first article demanded the removal of the new intendants, the efficient provincial agents of the crown. The consent of the sovereign courts was to be required for the establishment of new offices and the appointment of all officials. This meant that the whole bureaucratic apparatus was to be dependent on the Messieurs du Parlement. Thus, separate articles dealt with the areas of administration, jurisdiction, taxes, finance and the economy. The programme of reform was aimed at making the king's government dependent on the cours souveraines, especially the Parlement de Paris, which saw itself as representing the Estates General, a kind of Estates General in miniature. The defeat of the Fronde prevented the conclusion of a new contract which would have amounted to a constitution. In seventeenth-century England the theory of religious and political contracts enjoyed such popularity that laws and other measures passed by Parliament were seen by both King and people as binding contracts between them.18 In parliamentary debates and discussions in the army, the English revolutionaries gradually evolved the idea of a written constitution. In 1628 Parliament had drawn up a list of constitutional demands in the Petition of Right, a document directed at the alleged illegality of absolute monarchy. Twenty years later the army set itself the task of 'creating a stable and lasting relation between King and Parliament whose legal form would embrace all areas of the state and precisely delimit the competence of every organ of power'.19 What was modern about it was the democratic form in which the people's rights were to be defined and guaranteed in relation to those of the government. The army debates of the 1640s20 led 15 16

17

19 20

E. H. Kossmann, La Fronde, Leiden 1954. * Deliberations arretees en l'assemblee des cours souveraines, tenues et commencees en la chambre Saint-Louis le 30 juin 1648' in Isambert, Recueil general des anciennes bis franfaises depuis Van 420 jusqu'd la revolution de 1789, 1-29, Paris 1821-33, here 17, pp. 72-84. A. Bourde,' Frankreich vom Ende des Hundertjahrigen Krieges bis zum Beginn der Selbstherrschaft Ludwigs XIV. (1453-1661)' in T. Schieder (ed.), Handbuch der europdischen Geschichte 3, Stuttgart 1971, p. 831. P. R. Doolin, The Fronde, Cambridge, Mass. 1935, p. 11, speaks of 'a radical reformation of the institutions of the monarchy... a move which touched the government in a vital I8 spot.' G. A. Ritter, Parlament und Demokratie in Grossbritannien, Gottingen 1972, pp. 52f. W. Rothschild, op. cit., p. 17. Their minutes are printed by A. S. P. Woodhouse (ed.), Puritanism and Liberty. Being the Army Debates from the Clark Manuscripts (1647/48), London 3i966. 172

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism to two draft constitutions, the 'Heads of the Proposals' and the 'Agreement of the People' in various versions.21 During the deliberations of the officers' council in Putney, the concept of a constitution in the modern sense emerged with increasing clarity; the exercise of governmental power was to be limited to fixed periods and certain areas, and a description of government organization was worked out. However, it was only in December 1653, and under different circumstances, that the army officers produced the final draft of a written constitution, the 'Instrument of Government', consisting of forty-two articles.22 The first article placed the supreme command of the army, the fleet and the executive firmly in the hands of the Lord Protector and a small Council of State, in whose composition Parliament was accorded a limited right of nomination. The holders of high government offices were to be chosen by Parliament, or by the Council of State with parliamentary ratification. The Lord Protector was guaranteed adequate taxes for the army, the navy and the civil service. The legislative power was to be exercised by Parliament; the,term for which it was elected, the composition of the electorate and the procedure for elections were set out in detail. Thus for seven years England had a constitution which took cognizance of the realities of the modern state such as the civil service, the army and the navy. The English republic was a puritan military oligarchy; it was based on a constitution which replaced a contractual agreement with the ruler and older conventions. In Sweden in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries the King made promises to his subjects on his accession; so too did the King of Denmark on his election. These promises were a form of contract between the sovereign and the estates, guaranteeing the personal and material rights of the nobility, especially the higher nobility, and its influence on the life of the state.23 In 1634, during the minority of Queen Christina, the Swedish diet passed the famous regeringsform,24 consisting of sixty-five paragraphs; this was a fundamental law which regulated and perfected the organization 21

22

23 24

S. R. Gardiner, The Constitutional Documents of the Puritan Revolution 1625-60, Oxford 3 1906, repr.

1951, PP- 3i6ff. and 333ff. Ibid., pp. 4O5ff. On its contents and for an evaluation of it as a written constitution see D . L. Keir, The Constitutional History of Modern Britain since 1485, London '1969, p. 225f.: 'A fundamental and organic law.. .the Protectoral Power set up by a military junto'. On administration under the Protectorate see G. E. Aylmer, The State's Servants. The Civil Service of the English Republic 1649-1660, London 1973, esp. p. 45ff. On the takeover of the administrative business of royal institutions by parliamentary committees, see index under 'Committees'. N . Herlitz, Grundzuge der schwedischen Verfassungsgeschichte, Rostock 1939, pp. 92f. E. Hildebrand (ed.), Sveriges Regeringsformer 1634-1809 samt Konungaforsdkringar 1611-1800, Stockholm 1891, pp. 1-41; English translation: M.Roberts (ed.), Sweden as a Great Power 1611-1697. Government, Society, Foreign Policy (Documents of Modern History, ed. by A. G. Dickson and A. Davies), London 1968, pp. 18-28. For the older discussions of the Regeringsform of 1634 see the literature listed by A. v. Brandt, 'Die nordischen Lander 1448-1654', in T. Schieder (ed.), Handbuch der europdischen Geschichte 3, Stuttgart 1971, pp. 994 and 1001.

173

The constitutional development of the early modern state of the higher bureaucracy in the interest of the estates.25 It is the first constitutional document of our time. It increased the number of colleges from three (the High Court, the Chancery and the Audit Office) to five by creating the Army Council, which was important to Sweden's pursuit of great power politics, and the Admiralty. The structure of each of these offices of government was laid down, and they were controlled by the Riksrad, a self-perpetuating college of twenty-five members drawn from the upper nobility. 'In reality', remarks Herlitz, the Swedish constitutional historian, 'it was the Riksrad which conducted government business.'26 Paragraph 14 laid down that the five colleges should reside permanently in the capital and remain ' continually active', regardless of the presence or absence of one or other member of the Riksrad. Itinerant government was thus ended; the administration now sat permanently in one place. This was understandable after the long absences of Gustavus Adolphus on military campaigns. The provincial organs, whether courts of law or branches of the general,fiscal,or military administration, were subordinated to the five colleges and obliged to submit reports of their activities (paragraph 36). Civil, military, and legal administration were thoroughly organized and kept strictly separate; their officials were subordinated to the public prosecutor in the highest court and inspected once a year by the five colleges. Other paragraphs laid down regulations for the work of the civil service which were similar to those obtaining in Francfe under absolutist rule at this and later periods, though here all authority was vested in the Riksrad, and this was drawn from the estates. Here, then, we have a representative constitution which lays down the expanding form of the early modern state. Later modifications did not affect the existing principle of organization or its framework. By collaborating closely with the chancellor, the kings gained greater influence. The academic controversy as to whether the instrument of 1634 was really intended to be 'perpetual' (evdrdeligen), as it was called, or only provisional, is peripheral to our investigation into the connection between constitutions and the organization of government.27 25

27

On Swedish constitutional history generally see E. Schieche, 'Der schwedische Ratskonstitutionalismus im 17. Jahrhundert' in Spiegel der Geschichte. Festgabe Max Braubach, Munster 1964, pp. 388-428, esp. 408-11. See also M. Roberts, Essays in Swedish History, London 1967, pp. 14-55. Roberts states (p. 25, n. 49) that Oxenstierna interpreted the Regeringsform as establishing the existing system legally in an ordered, logical, contemporary government mechanism. On p. 26 the Regeringsform is held to be not a triumph of the constitutionalism of the Riksrad, but rather the harbinger of its decline. I am grateful to Dr Kersten Kriiger for helping me with the Scandinavian 26 literature. N. Herlitz, op. cit., p. 109. The latest discussion of the regeringsform from this point of view is by H. A. Olsson, '1634 ars regeringsform - lag eller provisorium?', Histor. Tidskrift 1972, 2, with a summary in German, pp. 2i6f. Olsson speaks of the 'constitution' which was accepted by the Riksdag only as a provisional measure. Queen Christina did not sign it on reaching her majority.

174

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism In 1660 the additament voted by the Riksdag gave greater representation to the commons; it is to be regarded as a part of the constitution. Twenty years later, however, the regeringsform of 1634 was repealed by a constitutional declaration of the Riksdag, and formal expression was given to the change in 1682, when the Riksrdd was renamed the 'Royal Council' {Kungligt Rdd). The rule of the upper nobility was terminated, but the organization of the colleges and their lower instances was retained. For the next forty years their presidents were appointed by the King, who by law had sovereign power.28 The electoral monarchy of Denmark belongs to the same constitutional area and, though only indirectly relevant to our present concerns, it displays some typical tendencies of the period. In 1648 the throne passed from Christian IV to Frederick III, and the new monarch, in the traditional electoral promises drawn up by the estates, not only confirmed the existing position of the 150 families of the higher nobility in the Rigsraad, but was obliged to give them a much greater share in government. Government by the three high offices of state was extended by the creation of three more. For each of these the nobles proposed three of their number, of whom the King chose one. The regional nobility was entitled to propose a successor to any counsellor who died. This fusion of the nobility and the upper bureaucracy is to be found in both central and local government, where officials could be appointed and dismissed only with the approval of the Rigsraad. Ten years later, however, the citizens of Copenhagen were placed on a par with the nobility by being allowed to hold offices of state. In 1660 the fundamental legal shift to absolute rule began.29 At one of the rare meetings of all the estates - nobles, clergy and towns - the two latter moved to repeal all electoral promises and declare the kingdom a hereditary monarchy. The Rigsraad gave way under military pressure; its archives were moved to the royal castle, and the central administration was re-organized by the King. The rule of the aristocracy was over. The new basic law, the Lex Regia of 1665,30 declared, in the first eight of its forty 28

29

30

On subsequent developments see S. U. Palme, 'Vom Absolutismus zum Parlamentarismus in Schweden' in D . Gerhard (ed.), Stdndische Vertretungen in Europa im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, Gottingen 2 i974, pp. 368-97. The declaration of sovereignty of 1693 makes the king 'responsible to no one on earth for his actions'. The Swedish declaration of sovereignty and the Danish Lex regia abrogate the representative constitution and introduce absolute rule by law. On this area as a whole see D . Gerhard, 'Probleme des danischen Friihabsolutismus' in Dauer und Wandel der Geschichte. Festgabe fur Kurt von Raumer, Minister 1965, pp. 269—92. The fundamental work on the subject is still K. Fabricius, Kongeloven, Copenhagen 1920. See also E. Wolgast, Lex Regia. Das ddnische und das deutsche Staatsfuhrungsgesetz {1665 bzw. 1934), Wiirzburg 1935 (with a German translation of the Lex Regia by T. Olshausen 1838), English translation by E. Ekman, 'The Danish Royal Law', Journal of Modern History, 29, 1957, pp. 102-7. The government bodies were streamlined in 1670 by bringing the heads of the colleges into the king's privy council.

175

The constitutional development of the early modern state paragraphs, that the King had absolute power in legislation, over home and foreign affairs, the army, the civil service, the church and over questions of war and peace. Paragraph 17 relieved him of any duty incurred by 'oath or prescribed obligations', in other words of any contract made with the estates. This constitutional law was kept secret until 1709. We cannot discuss here the national and international background of this revolutionary change. We are concerned only with the way governmental organization was laid down by law: in the one case corporatively, in the promises of 1648, in the other autocratically, in the royal act of 1665. In two German states on the Baltic there are two more constitutional documents which have not been considered before in this general context. The name of one of them, the Regierungsform of the Duchy of Pomerania, is strikingly like that of the Swedish constitution, which was approved in 1634, a mere four months before the Duke of Pomerania was obliged to subscribe to the Pomeranian constitution. The other is from Ducal Prussia, the Instrument die neue Regierungsverfassung betreffend (' Instrument con-

cerning the new government constitution') of 1661; its name is not unlike the English constitution of 1653, but there is no similarity of content. It is intriguing to note that its author was a Pomeranian nobleman, who was charged with the task as privy councillor to the Elector of Brandenburg. Let us consider first the Pomeranian document, which originated during the turmoil of the Thirty Years War. After the occupation of Pomerania by Gustavus Adolphus in 1630, the military administration of the duchy passed into Swedish control, while the civil administration remained in the hands of the ducal government. In order to ensure an indigenous government and the rights of the estates after the death of the childless duke, when Pomerania was expected to pass to Brandenburg or Sweden, the estates and the ducal government wished to perpetuate the existing regime by giving it a written constitution. There thus arose the jointly drafted Regierungsform, which the duke issued in November 1634 as a 'recess and constitution'.31 After establishing Lutheran Protestantism as the religion of the Pomeranian church for all time and after confirming all the national privileges and fundamental laws, the constitution deals in extenso with the form of government. Existing institutions are to remain unaltered.32 For the 31

32

J. C. Dahnert,Sammlung Pommerscherund Rugischer Landes-Urkunden I, Stralsund 1765,pp. 337-58, printed under the incorrect heading' Die Fiirstliche Pommersche Regiments-Verfassung'. R. Petsch,

Verfassung und Verwaltung Hinterpommerns im siebzehnten jfahrhundert bis zur Einverleibung in den brandenburgischen Staat, Leipzig 1907, p. 61 et passim, also speaks of the ' Regiments verfassung'. *... dass Land und Leute nicht gliicklicher und pflegsamer, als unter einer angewohnten und ihnen hiebevor furtraglich befundenen Regierungs-Form, guberniret werden k o n n e n ' ( ' . . . that the land and the people cannot be governed more happily and more carefully than under a form of government to which they are accustomed and which they have hitherto found acceptable'), Dahnert, op. cit., p. 338.

176

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism internal and external policy of the Duke and the estates, however, a new authority is created, a college of government counsellors made up of the former heads of government bodies. The ruler is bound by the decisions of this supreme directorate in ecclesiastical, political and economic affairs. The functions and tasks of the government offices, the High Court and the Church Council (the Konsistorium), are specified in precise detail. Finally, the government counsellors are guaranteed the protection, not only of the Duke, but of the 'country counsellors' (Landrdte). This document is a model representative constitution, the ratification of which could have been forced only from a Duke who was incapable of governing, as was later stressed by the King of Sweden and the Elector of Brandenburg, both of whom, as the Duke's successors, were being invited to subscribe to it. The typical institutions of the early modern state are placed under the direction or supervision of the estates, and the entire bureaucracy is placed under their protection. The estates were thinking of themselves, and they made sure of three things: the right to administer their own affairs, the appointment of indigenous officials only, and their own participation in all the rights of sovereignty. At a time when in France Richelieu was building up a central administration independent of the estates, in Sweden and Pomerania the aristocratic or representative state was being secure^ by official constitutional documents. After the partition of Pomerania between Sweden and Brandenburg by the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, the estates of each part of the former duchy demanded that the Regierungsform of 1634 should be ratified for their own part. Par-Erik Back, in his book Herzog und Landschaft33 gives an excellent account of the dispute with the Swedish crown. The outcome was a compromise favourable to the estates. The 'Royal Swedish-Pomeranian Form of Government' (Die Koniglich schwedisch-pommersche Regierungs-

form) of 166334 became the basis of Pomeranian constitutional history in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and led directly to the new representative constitution of 1809/1810. In that part of Pomerania which passed to Brandenburg, Elector Frederick William, under pressure from the estates, confirmed in 1654 the Regierungsform of 1634, in a form adapted to the new conditions.35 The new ruler appointed civil servants himself, though recognizing that the most important offices should go to native Pomeranians. The traditional government organization of the duchy was maintained. The power structure remained similar to that of Swedish 33

34 35

P.-E. Back, Herzog und Landschaft. Politische Ideen und Verfassungsprogramme in SchwedischPommern um die Mitte des IJ. Jahrhundert s, L u n d 1955; id., ' D i e Stande in Schwedisch-Pommern im spaten 17. und im 18. Jahrhundert' in D . Gerhard (ed.), Stdndische Vertretungen in Europa im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, Gottingen 2 i974, p p . 120-30. Dahnert, op. cit., pp. 359-73. Auserlesene Sammlung verschiedener Urkunden und Nachrichten zur Kenntnis des Herzogtums Vorund Hinterpommern, Greifswald 1747, pp. 4iff. Petsch, op. cit., pp. 2308*.

177

The constitutional development of the early modern state Pomerania and also to that obtaining in the other formerly independent territories which made up the composite state of Brandenburg-Prussia around 1650. We must, therefore, with Hintze, speak of the 'old federative system of territorial constitutions' or, with Otto Brunner, of a 'monarchical union of corporative states'. 36 After Frederick William had in 1660 gained sovereignty over Ducal Prussia, which had previously been a Polish and at times a Swedish fief, he sent to the Prussian assembly an Instrumentum die neue Regierungsverfassung und Confirmation des Landes Privilegium betreffend (Colin an der

Spree, 14 November) signed and sealed by him in Berlin on 24 November 1661.37 (In the Elector's correspondence it is generally referred to simply as the Constitution.)38 This instrument had been worked out by the Elector's counsellors in Berlin for negotiation with the estates of East Prussia.39 The Regierungsverfassung is likewise based on the existing regime of the earlier representative state. Beginning with the question of religion, it goes on in the manner of a modern constitution - though without systematic division or numbered paragraphs - to lay down the functions of the territorial government, the Statthalter, the four senior counsellors, the Landhofmeistery the Oberburggrafy the chancellor and the Obermarschall,

and to regulate the appointment and functions of the twelve representative country counsellors (Landrdte) and other dignitories and officials. Provisions are made for the structure of the legal, fiscal, financial and military administration, as well as for government during a period of regency, and the privileges of the estates are expressly confirmed. The author of this document was evidently seeking a compromise between the sovereign prince and the former ruling aristocracy which should be recorded for all time. This intention met with opposition from the estates, who assumed that they could retain their former power with Polish support.40 The recess of 36

37

38

39

40

O. Brunner, 'Das Haus Osterreich und die Donaumonarchie' in Festgabe Harold Steinacker, Munich 1955, pp. i26ff.; O. Hintze, op. cit. (n. 9), p. 321. Zeitschrift fur preussische Geschichte und Landeskunde 11 (1874) 33-89. Variants of this print in K. Breysig (ed.), Urkunden und Aktenstucke zur Geschichte des Kurfursten Friedrich Wilhelm von Brandenburg 15 ( = Stdndische Verhandlungen 3), Berlin 1894, pp. 646-8. From now on referred to as U.A.); somewhat abridged under the title * Verfassungsurkunde fur das Herzogtum Preussen' in W. Altmann, Ausgewdhlte Urkunden zur Brandenburgisch-Preussischen Verfassungs- und Verwaltungsgeschichte 1, Berlin 1897, pp. 58-67. For a general treatment see H. Rachel, Der Grosse Kurfurst und die ostpreussischen Stdnde 1640-1688, Leipzig 1905. The letters of Frederick William are printed in U.A. 16, 1, Berlin 1899, and also in L. v. Orlich, Geschichte des Preussischen Staates im siebzehnten Jfahrhundert, dritter Theil, Urkunden, Berlin 1839. Drafted by Otto von Schwerin, corrected by Friedrich von Jena. U.A. 15, p. 651, n. 1. Schwerin on his planned 'essay', August 1661 in U.A. 15, pp. 553^ Schwerin on the draft constitution in U.A. 15, pp. 646-51. The response to the constitutional instrument was a 'Geeinigtes Bedenken der Stande' presented on 27 March 1662 (U.A. 16, 1, pp. 19-49). Rachel, op. cit., pp. 28-36 deals briefly with the constitutional conflict of 1661-3. He sees in the territorial diet a 'collision between centralist

178

From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism 41

1663, the product of long negotiations in which both sides made concessions, preserved the earlier ducal regime only in appearance. Elector Frederick William wrote to the author of the Regierungsverfassung: 'This territorial diet has gone the same way as that of Cleves, since the recess of the diet was again altered. Here the governmental constitution is completely altered. The estates would have kept more with the Regierungsverfassung than with the recess.'42 Instead of the Regierungsverfassung proposed by the Elector, the provisions set out in the recess of the territorial diet were adopted. In the Holy Roman Empire too the imperial estates tried, at the end of the Thirty Years War, to have constitutional arrangements documented. In preparation for the Peace of Westphalia, the Calvinist Hessen-Kassel put forward a sketch of a constitutional programme, which was elaborated and to a large extent adopted, largely with the help of France and Sweden, in spite of the opposition of the Emperor, the Electors and the Catholic princes.43 It combined confessional and political questions. From now on the consent of the Imperial Diet would be required sine contradictione iure suffragii in omnibus deliberationibus super negotiis imperii.44 The following

negotia were listed: war and peace, alliances and treaties made in the name of the Empire, legislation and its interpretation, the levying and quartering of troops, the siting of fortifications in the territories of the Empire, taxes and contributions. The princes of the Empire themselves acquired full rights to conclude alliances. This was covered by the simple phrase iura statuum. The renewed confirmation of all the privileges of the imperial estates was now guaranteed by France and Sweden. However, the completion of the imperial constitution - the settling of such important questions as the election of the Emperor's successor during his lifetime, the reform of justice and the formulation of a permanent electoral capitulation with the participation of all the princes, not just the Electors - was deferred to the next diet. The constitutional articles of the Peace of Westphalia made the

41

42 43

44

absolutism and particularist estate liberty which was all but paradigmatic for such conflicts since the antithetical elements appeared so clearly and the collision was so concentrated in space and time' (ibid., pp. 34f.). In June 1662 Schwerin reported to the Elector 'that the estates insisted on no point more firmly than that because of the Oberrdthe the old constitution should remain in force'. U.A. 16, 1, p. 145. U.A. 16, 1, pp. 418-25, 1 May 1663. The recess of the territorial diet comprises only 7 pages, the constitutional instrument 56. Elector Frederick William to Otto von Schwerin, Konigsberg, 15 May 1663. U.A. 9, p. 856. On this whole question see F. Dickmann, 'Der Westfalische Friede und die Reichsverfassung', Forschungen und Studien zur Geschichte des Westfdlischen Friedens (Schriftenreihe der Vereinigung zur Erforschung der neueren Geschichte 1), Miinster 1965, pp. 5-32, or id. Der Westfalische Freiden, Minister 3 i972. The former work lists much of the literature; the latter contains individual references. 'Instrumentum pacis Osnabrugense Art. VIII', K. Zeumer, op. cit. (v. supra n. 4), p. 416.

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The constitutional development of the early modern state development of the Holy Roman Empire into an early modern state not only difficult, but impossible; yet at the same time they did not facilitate a representative structure. The next meeting of the Imperial Diet in 1653-4 failed to solve the constitutional problems referred to it. Constitutional reform was broken off; for no viable central or even regional organization for the governance of the Empire took shape. The tasks proper to the Empire as such were in the end carried out by the major princes acting on their own authority. The Peace of Westphalia is one of the fundamental laws of the Empire and was incorporated into subsequent electoral capitulations. These were in each case negotiated by the Electors in the name of the Empire, and from 1519 onwards they were numbered among the great contractual documents which made up the representative constitution of the Empire; they represented its 'fundamental laws' before such a concept existed.45 The constitutional and legal historian sees them as important precursors of the constitutions of today, as a kind of constitutional instrument. The Peace of Westphalia speaks of the existing constitutiones et leges fundament ales in the Empire, applying the term to the Golden Bull of 1356, which for four and a half centuries laid down the legal procedure for the election of the Emperor. Even if the concept of a constitutio had a part to play in the seventeenth century, that of the leges fundament ales was more important 46 In France we find the term loisfondamentales in use from 1576, in place of the anciennes lots du Royaume\ in England the term fundamental law is applied, for example, to Magna Charta, from the beginning of the seventeenth century. The Swedish chancellor Oxenstierna reckoned the regeringsform of 1634, among other items, among his country's fundamental laws (grundleger), and we have already encountered the German Fundamentalgesetz in the Pomeranian Regierungsform of 1634. The term lex fundament alis was known in Germany before 1600. Friedrich Pruckmann, who was professor at Frankfurt an der Oder and later chancellor to the Elector of Brandenburg, speaks in 1591 in his Paragraphus soluta potestas of the Salic Law as the 45

46

G. Kleinheyer, Die kaiserlichen Wahlkapitulationen. Geschichte, Wesen und Funktion, Karlsruhe 1968; F. Hartung, 'Die Wahlkapitulationen der deutschen Kaiser und Konige', Historische Zeitschrift 107 (1911) 306-44 (repr. id., Volk und Staat in der deutschen Geschichte. Gesammelte Abhandlungen, Leipzig 1940, pp. 67-93. Occurrences of the term in the work of German publicists since 1603 are given by G. Kleinheyer, ' Grundrechte' in O. Brunner, W. Conze and R. Koselleck, Geschichtliche Grundbegriffe 2, Stuttgart 1975, p. 1055, n- I0 - According to this article, Besold in 1625 counted the treaty of Tubingen among the 'leges fundamentals'. See also R. Grawert, 'Leges fundamentals, Wahlkapitulationen', ibid, pp. 887-89 (under the catchword 'Gesetz'). The history of the concept is treated by H. Quaritsch, Staat und Souverdnitdt 1, Frankfurt 1970, pp. 364^; further occurrences of the term are listed in the index under 'leges fundamentals'.

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From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism lex fundament alis florentissimi Galliae regni.47 The German combination of

the terms 'imperial constitution and fundamental laws' has parallels throughout Europe.48 The picture that has been sketched here of the transition from ruling contracts to constitutional instruments is one of bewildering variety. The individual developments in the seventeenth century are as varied as their results. Let us try to sum up. We will exclude the programmes of the French Fronde from our summary, since the revolt against the crown, while belonging to the general picture of constitutional agitation in Europe, did not lead to any kind of constitutional settlement. Here the development of the early modern state had already progressed farther than elsewhere and in a direction favourable to the monarchy. This indicates the essential motive behind the constitutional developments, viz. the struggle for the early modern state, participation of the estates at court and government level, and the determination of the rights of the parties concerned. This is to be seen in a religious and social context. The constitutional documents were attempts to reach lasting settlements in these matters or to perpetuate existing arrangements in documentary form. The motive was the same in all those countries we have considered. The early contracts with the rulers betray little interest in central government proper, which was only then taking shape. These are later modified fo become agreements concerned principally with the relations between central government and the estates. The documents now lay down the tasks and structure of the government, the number of government offices there are to be, who is to hold them, and even how members of the government or heads of departments are to be appointed. The immediate causes vary. In the England of Cromwell it was the 47

48

T. Klein, 'Recht und Staat im Urteil mitteldeutscher Juristen des spaten 16. Jahrhunderts' in Festschrift Walter Schlesinger i {Mitteldeutsche Forschungen 74, 1), Cologne 1973, p. 456. Petrus Heigius, in his commentary on institutions of 1603, counts the Golden Bull among the 'leges fundamentales' of the Empire (ibid. p. 483). Rather than give separate references, I refer in general to the following: A. Lemaire, Les Lois fondamentales de la monarchic francaise d^apres les theoriciens de Vancien regime, Paris 1907; J. W. Gough, Fundamental Law in English Constitutional History, Oxford 1955; H. Quaritsch, op. cit. (n. 13), pp. 364!!.; G. Stourzh, Vom Widerstandsrecht zur Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit: Zum Problem der Verfassungswidrigkeit im 18. jfahrhundert, Graz 1974, pp. 6ff.; G. Kleinheyer, op. cit. (n. 46 above). For a general view see H. O. Meisner, Verfassung, Verwaltung, Regierung in neuerer Zeit {Sitzungsberichte der deutschen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin. Klasse fur Philosophic, Geschichte..., Jahrgang 1962, Nr. 1), Berlin 1962, pp. 6ff. Meisner distinguishes the 'formal' and the 'material' sense of'constitution'. Constitutions in the material sense are recorded 'in a large number of separate laws, edicts, ordinances, contracts with the estates, etc'; the ' constitution' in a formal sense is a single comprehensive document. The combination ' constitutiones et leges fundamentales' is found in the constitutional article of the Peace Treaty of Osnabriick, the Instrumentum Pacis Osnabrugensis, Art. VIII, §4. 181

The constitutional development of the early modern state struggle between Parliament and the Army that led to the constitution, in Sweden the prolonged absence of the monarch owing to the war and finally the minority of Queen Christina, in Pomerania the anticipated extinction of the local dynasty and the forthcoming accession of a foreign prince, in Prussia the recognition of the new sovereign's rights, in the Empire the experience of a victorious Emperor intent upon absolute monarchy. Behind these various causes a common motive can be discerned, the expansion and strengthening of the state and its administration at the highest level as a result of military requirements. The protracted wars changed the political and social scene. During them the early modern state, in a series of sudden jolts, became institutionalized and consolidated at the central and regional level as a bureaucratic structure.49 In this situation the privileges of the estates were impaired, and their rights remained under constant threat. Legislation by the monarch and the issuing of ordinances set in motion an authoritative power-mechanism, the continual expansion of state business and state instruments.50 The imperial and territorial estates sought to protect themselves by means of constitutions. In sovereign East Prussia the principle only seems to have been reversed: the fundamental question remained the same. The documents deal in the main only with the top level of administration in the composite state or its constituent parts. Administration at the local level, the relation between the central government and the towns and manors is hardly mentioned, if at all. This reflects the view the estates had of themselves and feudal society, at first hardly any different from the one the rulers had as lords of their domains. Hence it reflects also the actual development of the early modern state, which left the towns and manors the country - to be administered by the authorities of the estates. In England the constitution drafted by the officers' council in 1653 makes a more clear-cut division between the executive and the legislature, government and parliament. Under the rule of Cromwell a modern government was financially secured. The parliamentary organization and specified election procedures for the property-owning class points forward to new forms of representative government. This constitution and the other English constitutional projects have little formal connection with contracts with the ruler, even though Magna Charta was continually being invoked as a fundamental law. It is a different matter with the Swedish, Pomeranian and Prussian constitutions we have considered, as well as Article VIII of the treaty of Osnabriick affecting the Holy Roman Empire. They go back in a direct line to the early contracts, electoral capitulations and fundamental laws. The terms of the constitutions, especially those of Sweden, Pomerania and Prussia, secure the aristocratic nature of representative government. 49 50

Cf. below, Ch. n . Cf. above, Ch. 9.

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From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism (This applies also to the Danish charter of 1648.) In these four countries the offices of government were in the hands of the nobles. There was a personal union, constitutionally laid down, between the government and the aristocracy. The same is not true of the highest authorities of the old German Empire. The influence of the Arch-chancellor, the Elector of Mainz, on appointments to the Imperial Court Chancery was controversial. The members of the Aulic Council and the Privy Council were appointed by the Emperor himself, the Imperial Estates being excluded. Direct participation by the Estates was guaranteed only in the Imperial Cameral Court after 1495. However, the Empire never became a typical early modern state with a strong central government. In the later constitutional moves towards absolutism in Denmark and Sweden we witness the growing tension between the upper and the lower nobility, with the middle class involved in the struggle against the privileges of the nobles. The estates clearly lacked cohesion, and the political and economic interests of the individual classes diverged. This fact was exploited by the monarchy in all those states which were progressing towards absolutism - Sweden, Denmark and the Brandenburg-Prussian monarchy as a whole. In the composite states with absolute monarchies, representative participation in government was eliminated, and the development of the central administration accelerated all the more. The monarch prevented any observation of the workings and functions of his bureaucracy, and his directives were kept secret. The new civil service of the monarchy, drawn from the upper and middle classes, was a uniform social stratum, serving the state, dependent on the monarch, firmly bound to him, and imbued with the spirit of the military and economic state. The early contracts are viewed by scholars as measures adopted by the estates to counter the growing institutional power of the princes at the end of the feudal period. I should like to regard the continental constitutions of the mid-seventeenth century as parallel phenomena, representing a reaction against monarchical government and the increasing power of the bureaucracy in the early modern state at the end of the period of the participation of the estates in government. The air was full of contractual ideas, which led to very varied theories and written forms of the mixed constitution. The doctrine of the mixed constitution {forma mixta, respublica mixta, gouvernement mixte, mixed government, etc.) was popular throughout Europe in early modern times; it was the theory of the obsolescent corporative state. This theory has yet to be examined in an international context.51 The Calvinists, especially in England, endeavoured to find 'the 51

The political doctrine of the mixed constitution was taught in almost all countries. In France it was represented by Seyssel, du Haillan, La Roche-Flavin and Joly. For England see C. C. Weston, 'The theory of Mixed Monarchy under Charles I and after', English Historical Review 75 (i960) 426-43; id., English Constitutional Theory and the House of Lords 1556-1832, London 1965. For

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The constitutional development of the early modern state structure of an ideally formed church constitution'; they were also inspired by a corresponding desire for' a well-considered shaping of the constitution of the state'. 52 This was clearly the defensive stance of the estates towards the absolutist tendencies in goverment produced by the exigencies of war. The corporative state was bound to react against the obvious facts of administrative and military developments. In English history such struggles, together with the documents and constitutions resulting from them, represent a mere episode. In Sweden and Prussia they mark a period of delay before the triumph of absolutism in the closing decades of the seventeenth century. In the Holy Roman Empire, on the other hand, the constitutional provisions of the Peace of Westphalia had a stabilizing effect lasting for a hundred and fifty years amid the changing constitutional scene of modern Europe. The various constitutions and draft constitutions of the large and small European states thus have a common background. Growing state organization and monarchical bureaucracy, the proliferation of state institutions and increasing centralization and monopolization combined to inaugurate a new period of confrontation between the monarch and the estates. A new problem was added to the existing disputes between the ruler and the representative assemblies, viz. the distribution of power in the developing bureaucracy. This new problem affected the thinking and conduct of both sides. What was involved was the relative weighting of the parties in the unbalanced constitutions of the aristocratic monarchy, monarchia mixta. The new European state-system, which was the basis of the European domination of the world, thus began before the period of absolutism; in fact it was one of the factors that made absolutism possible.53

52 53

Germany see R. Hoke, Die Reichsstaatslehre des Johannes Limnaeus, Aalen 1968, pp. 152-209, with references to Gierke and Althusius. For Sweden see N. Runeby, Monarchia Mixta. Maktfordelningsdebatt i Sverige under den tidigare stormaktstiden (Studia historica Upsaliensia 6), Stockholm 1962 (summary in German on pp. 544-72). For Italy see R. de Mattei,' La teoria dello " Stato misto " nel dottrinarismo del Seicento', Rivista distudipolitichiinternazionali 15 (1948) 406-36; id., 'Difese ital. del "governo misto" contro la critica negatrice del Bodin', in Studi in onore di E. Crossa 1, Milan i960, pp. 739-57. The classical origins are discussed by K. v. Fritz, The Theory of the Mixed Constitution in Antiquity. A Critical Analysis of Polybiufs Political Ideas, New York 1954. On the difference between 'mixed government' and 'separation of powers' see W. B. Gwyn, The Meaning of the Separation of Powers, The Hague 1965. The doctrine of the 'status mixtus reipublicae' is briefly treated by O. Gierke, Das deutsche Genossenschaftsrecht 4, Berlin 1913, p. 2i9ff. See also H. Dreitzel, Protestantischer Aristotelismus und absoluter Staat. Die ^Politica*1 des Henning Arnisaus, Wiesbaden 1970, pp. 285-97. For seventeenth-century sources see H. U. Scupin and U. Scheuner (eds.), Althusius-Bibliographie. Bibliographie zur politischen Ideengeschichte und Staatslehre, zum Staatsrecht und zur Verfassungsgeschichte (rev. by D . Wyduckel), Berlin 1973, nos. 3775, 3890,4268, 5267, 5339Rothschild, op. cit. (n. 13 above), p . 2. This is contrary to the older view of Otto Hintze (1901) and W. Mommsen (1938), which is still held by K. Malettke, 'Frankreich und Europa im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert. Der franzosische Beitrag zur Entfaltung des fruhmodernen, souveranen Staates', Francia 3 (1975) 327 and n. 15. T h e (early)

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From contractual monarchy to constitutionalism If we consider the geographical positions of the four states we have discussed, we are reminded of the models proposed by Otto Hintze with regard to the typology of representative constitutions. This expert in the history of feudalism and the Old Regime divided the states of Europe into those which had belonged to the Carolingian empire and those which had not. Feudalism, in the full sense of the term, was limited to those that had, dissolving all the old forms of local and regional organization and laying the ground for new local regimes. In the countries on the periphery, on the other hand, feudalism was not established completely or permanently, and older regional groupings were preserved. This is the starting point for Hintze's two types of representative constitution. The first type, the two-chamber system of representation, was at home in those countries surrounding the nucleus of the old Carolingian Empire - England, the Scandinavian countries, Poland, Hungary and Bohemia. To this type the constitution of the Empire also belongs. Most of the German states west of the Elbe Hintze regarded as belonging to the tricameral type, represented in western Europe notably by France and Aragon: those to the east belonged to the first, i.e. the two-chamber type.54 It is striking that the representative systems of the outlying countries, which according to Hintze belonged together, viz. England, Sweden and the duchies east of the Elbe - Pomerania and Prussia - together with the Holy Roman Empire, were the first to experiment with written constitutions. Their constitutional documents seem to lend some support to Hintze's typology.55 The existence and development of representative constitutions in the age of absolutism needs to be further illuminated by comparative studies. In addition to the constitutional and political questions discussed here, we must consider the social and economic conditions which I have hitherto left out of account. The rivalries between the French noblesse d^epee and the

54

55

modern state does not begin in the mid-seventeenth century, as Hintze later showed in 1931 in his article 'Wesen und Wandlung des modernen Staates' in id. Gesammelte Abhandlungen (n. 9 above), pp. 470-96. O. Hintze, op. cit., pp. 120-39 on the typology of western representative constitutions; pp. 140-85 on the historical conditions for the representative constitution (1930-1). Both articles in id. Feudalismus - Kapitalismus (ed. G. Oestreich), Gottingen 1970, pp. 48-113. The latter article in the English edition by F. Gilbert, cit. pp. 302-53, under the title of 'The Preconditions of Representative Government in the Context of World History'. See also G. Oestreich, 'Standestaat und Standewesen im Werk Otto Hintzes', in D. Gerhard (ed.), Stdndische Vertretungen in Europa im iy. und 18. jfahrhundert, Gottingen 2 i974, pp. 56-71. This article has been reprinted in G. Oestreich, Strukturprobleme derfruhen Neuzeit, ed. Brigitta Oestreich, Berlin 1980, pp. 145-60. Recently these typological problems of the comparative history of representative government have been taken up again, on the foundations laid by O. Hintze and N. Elias, by H. G. Koenigsberger, Dominium regale or Dominium politician et regale. Monarchies and Parliaments in Early Modern Europe

(Inaugural Lecture in the Chair of History at University of London, King's College, 25 February J975)> PP- 4 o r 7ff- Koenigsberger's statement that 'Dominium politicum et regale was the norm' applies to all the constitutional documents we have considered.

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The constitutional development of the early modern state noblesse de robe, the unique position of the gentry in the English House of Commons, the forces supporting and opposing the rule of the high nobility in the Swedish Riksrad, the ascendancy of the knights in Pomerania and Prussia - in all these instances the estates and political classes were in conflict with the crown, the court and the government: this is the field of forces which Marxist scholars in eastern Europe have investigated in recent years as a socio-economic question in terms of the class war.56 However, we must beware of plumping for monocausal explanations. The system of state government was undoubtedly the most important form of organization in society during this century of revolts, this period of transition from contractual monarchy to constitutionalism. Government was the highest institution in the changing political and social scene, and it was a subject of controversy. In each country it possessed a general and a peculiarly national dynamism which, starting from seemingly identical or similar structures, produced differing results in the middle or long term. The constitutional instruments of the seventeenth century do not embody political theories to the same extent as those of the eighteenth, but spring from the pragmatic needs of the state and society, testifying to the shift in organization from the corporative to the sovereign state.57 The concentration of 'governmental authority over the country and its population in the hands of one person or body', an authority which under feudalism and even under the corporative state was dispersed and in each case limited,58 is the most important development of the early modern period, and it extends to the present day. True, the separate countries of Europe evolved in their own ways, but when all is said and done they were pursuing the same end: they were all working towards the sovereign state and its apparatus of government - gubernatio et administratio. 56

57

58

Cf. I. Auerbach, ' D i e marxistisch-sowjetische Forschung' in the article by G. Oestreich and I. Auerbach 'Standische Verfassung' (see n. 3 above). An oddity with regard to its comprehensiveness, durability and content is the constitution of the representative state of Mecklenburg, the agreement of Duke Christian Ludwig with the knights and the country on 18 April 1755 concerning the fundamental law relating to succession (LandesGrund-Gesetzlicher Erb-Vergleich). This remained the constitutional document of the state until 1918. (Printed at Rostock, 1755, 286, 110 folio pages. In addition quarto and octavo. Other editions cited in W. Heess, Geschichtliche Bibliographic von Mecklenburg 1, Rostock 1944, pp. 4O9f. or 184-6. E. W. Bockenforde, Die verfassungstheoretische Unterscheidung von Staat und Gesellschaft ah Bedingung individueller Freiheit (Rheinisch-Westfalische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Vortrage G 183), Opladen 1973, pp. 10-21 (p. 11) with further literature.

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11

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state At the International Congress of Historians in Rome in 1955 an interesting phenomenon was to be observed. In the conference hall where the problem of European absolutism was being discussed, it was said that the estates played no significant part in the making of the modern state, while in another room, where the Commission internationale pour Vhistoire des assemblies d^etats was meeting, it was taken for granted by the speakers that the estates were a political force to be reckoned with just as was monarchical authority. This was just another instance of the old problem - how to find firm ground for an overall view of the political importance of the estates which would hold good throughout the period of their existence. Investigations which start from the great achievements of absolute monarchy have seen the estates as playing only a negative role. The scholars who have made up the Commission internationale since 1936 have sought, by comparative studies, to underline the effectiveness of the estates. In the search for the ancestry of parliamentary democracy since the second world war, substantial studies have again been devoted to the estates of central and western Europe, both imperial and territorial or provincial. These studies too have failed to provide a basis for a unanimous view and to bridge the gap in scholarly opinion which has existed for over a century. This is especially true of France and Germany. The dilemma will not be resolved either by overstating the importance of the corporative principle in German constitutional history or by continuing to emphasize the monarchic principle. There is the further difficulty that none of the German state structures or representative constitutions by itself can be considered typical. As Otto Hintze has emphasized, they are 'only particular types, admittedly based on a common principle, none of which can be treated as a general model'. So we must once more try to answer the question 'Did the German estates made a positive or a negative contribution to the development of the modern state from the Middle Ages to the end of the period of estate representation in the territories of Germany ?' I am concerned here only to suggest a way of harmonizing the conflicting opinions by establishing firm points of reference. The basis of my remarks will not be the theme that has been taken as central hitherto, namely ' the 187

The constitutional development of the early modern state estates and the princes', but the larger question of 'the estates and the formation of the state'. First let me define my terms. By 'estates' I mean the political estates, organized and working together in assemblies or representative bodies which had a definite form. In Germany it has become customary to use the term landstdndische Verfassung (' territorial representative constitution'). 'The formation of the state' covers all the processes that have contributed to the evolution of the modern state. This focusses attention on a crucial problem in modern constitutional history. It is not just a matter of how the so-called state apparatus was structured, how official bodies and legal tribunals were organized and gradually gained control over all the inhabitants of the state; nor are we concerned simply with the civil and military servants of the state, the bureaucracy and the army. We have rather to consider the link between internal structure and external power in the system of European or German states as a condition for the development of the state in the early modern period. In the evolution towards statehood a decisive role was played also by the economic and social infrastructure of government, which varied in its importance from period to period. The third concept, 'Germany', has still to be defined. For the development of the state took place on two levels, that of the Empire and that of its constituent territories. We shall net be concerned here with the highest level, with the relationship of the territorial states to the Emperor and the Empire. We shall consider only the second level of German constitutional life, namely the territories, in which the estates acted through their own representative institutions. The period involved extends from the fifteenth century to the eighteenth, for the post-revolutionary state of the nineteenth century, despite the survival of numerous institutions from the old regime, made fundamentally new claims which distinguish it from the pre-revolutionary state, in which the estates were politically active. To arrive at a more precise, and no doubt juster, assessment of the estates, we must make two distinctions. These may be illustrated from our chosen point of reference, the formation of the state, first in structural and then in chronological terms. Let us begin with the structural distinctions. We can distinguish an upper and a lower level; later we shall introduce an intermediate level too. It was on the upper level, where the prince's court and the central territorial administration were situated, that the state most obviously evolved. Below this was the local level, variously designated by such terms as Amt, Gerichty or Pflege. At the court were concentrated the overall government of the territory, the higher jurisdiction, and the conduct of external affairs, which essentially concerned the ruling house. This concentration of monarchical authority at the centre, comprising all the 188

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state functions and forces which represented the state as a whole at that period, had no counterpart at the local level. At this local level, from the thirteenth century onwards, the princes had set up a new system of local government, by dividing the territory into districts (Amter, literally 'offices') in which the officers were independent of feudal law. However, in many territories the new local authority was quickly appropriated by nobles and towns by means of privileges and mortgages, so that in eastern Germany there arose the extensive Gutsherrschaft beside the older Grundherrschaft. When small independent lands and territories came to be linked through a personal union between ruling houses and so went to make up a composite state, a new level came into existence on which each unit tried to maintain its independence. Where personal unions took place between secular or ecclesiastical principalities, the estates of the formerly independent lands became very effective as the so-called 'particularism authorities on the provincial level. Let us now divide the formation of the German territorial state into three periods-a task which is by no means easy. We will distinguish (i) the primitive or early form of dualist rule in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; (2) the first stage of the early modern state, which we will designate as the 'finance state', in the sixteenth century; and (3) the second stage of the early modern state, beginning in the second half of the seventeenth century. This last stage, the military, economic, and administrative state, was never reached in a large number of the small territories of Germany. Let us now consider the different levels of government in these three periods, the activity of the estates, and the evolution of the modern state. In the early form of dualist rule the intermediate level was absent. At the local level the prince ruled through the Amter, but his authority was often impaired by enlarged privileges acquired by the manors. The nobles and towns sought to arrogate to themselves all the functions of lower jurisdiction, which comprised both administration and the dispensing of justice. This led to a full development of the powers of the local lords and thus created the conditions for a territorial constitution with representation of the estates. There was a shift of power at the centre too. The feudal assembly of vassals, the maiores et meliores terrae of 1231, had previously functioned as a council; in this role it was now superseded by the individual corporations. The corporations of the knights and towns, as well as those of the clergy, formed themselves into associations of single estates, and these were strengthened by links with those of other territories. The ruler and his council acted on behalf of the whole territory in legal, administrative, and dynastic affairs. This was still a fluid situation, and the functioning of 189

The constitutional development of the early modern state government depended on the will of the prince and the circumstances under which he was obliged to operate; thus it was subject partly to the wishes of the prince and partly to those of the territory. The prince established a ruling partnership with the nobles or the towns, depending on which had the upper hand; it was in this way that the earliest form of dualistic structure came into being. The first period, then, saw the emergence of the corporative constitution. With the aid of the princes it had become fully institutionalized by the end of the period. The assembly of the estates, the territorial diet, began to serve the whole body politic, while watching over the interests of the individual estates which went to make it up. In Germany there was no total representation of the body politic, as in the English House of Commons, but a number of corporations which were strictly divided according to estates, yet brought together in one representative body, the territorial assembly. All the same, some successes for early state development were scored by parliamentary means - or, to speak in more concrete terms, by means of representative assemblies or diets. We should mention first the right of the estates to present grievances. These set the constitutional mechanism in motion. They served three purposes, which are repeatedly encountered when one works through the records of the assemblies. First, they informed the ruler and the small central government apparatus at court about the realities of political life; they represented the public opinion of the age, backed by the will of the most powerful financial and economic forces in the territory. Secondly, the estates' right of complaint made it possible to criticize existing conditions; this could - and did - promote the formation of the state. For, thirdly, the demands inherent in the grievances led to improvements in the condition of the body politic. They contributed to the maintenance of law and to better judicial and administrative organization. Collaboration between the representatives of the prince and the estates produced the great provincial and police ordinances which constitute the legislation of the period. The criticism of the administration contained in the grievances did not simply hamper the prince and his government apparatus: it exercized a positive influence too. In important instances partitions were prevented, or their pernicious effects were mitigated. In many territories the intervention of the estates lessened the disastrous effects of disputes within the ruling house and disturbances arising during periods of guardianship. By setting up governing councils and the like the estates contributed directly to the preservation of the state. In this period we already find some princes whose organizing capacity was superior to that of the estates, which were frequently at odds over the 'quotization' or distribution of taxes and unable to resolve conflicts of interest between the knights and the towns. The training of the prince's 190

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state officials in Roman law led to a view of office which was conducive to stronger and more efficient government. Officials no longer thought primarily in terms of exploiting their offices according to the traditional notions of Germanic and feudal law but rather in terms of the general interest. However, the general interest, the salus publica allowed a very considerable identification of the interests of the ruling dynasty with those of the country. One may summarize this first stage by saying that the government of the prince was at once supported and restricted by the estates at the central level, while at the local level it was rendered largely ineffective. A dualistic political structure had arisen, but it was not yet a 'state'. Let us now look at the second stage from the same point of view. This stage involved the formation of what I have called the 'finance state'. The term 'state' gained currency in German partly in connection with public finances and what later became the national budget. This is made clear by three examples from south Germany. In 1520 Charles V issued a lengthy instruction to the estates of the duchy of Wiirttemberg, which was under his rule, for determining current expenditure. The economic plan for the assembly of the estates was called der stat. This was a kind of budget, agreed after long negotiations between the assembly of the estates and the imperial government about the financing of the government, administration, and defence of the duchy. In the Imperial Chamber's regulations for the Austrian patrimonial lands, issued in 1537 under Ferdinand I, we read that 'the master of the treasury shall present his accounts in accordance with the regulations of his "state", which shall be entrusted to him'. This 'state' provided chiefly for the remuneration of the ruler's government apparatus, in other words the stato, as the word is used for the administrative staff of the Italian city states of the late Middle Ages. And in Bavaria in 1552 a finance commission was set up with the title 'the councillors appointed for the state'. Thus in German the word ' state' penetrated into the political sphere mainly in the context of financial administration. In the sixteenth century, financial affairs - questions of meeting the prince's debts and voting the appropriate taxes - predominated in public life. The 'cameral state', as the administration of the revenues from the princely domains was later called in Brandenburg, was only part of the financial problem, viz. the part which concerned the prince, whereas the financial negotiations with the estates and their votes of money were the chief business of the territorial assemblies, which came to be known as ' money assemblies'. From the prince's point of view, the main deliberations at the fully developed assemblies of estates were about taxes. As is 191

The constitutional development of the early modern state universally acknowledged, the territorial estates performed a signal service for the maintenance of political order by taking over public debts and financing the ruling house, its court, and its government apparatus. Beside the older financial administration of the prince's domains and personal property, there came into being a large organization, run by the estates themselves, to handle the taxes voted by the assemblies or their committees. This machinery for dealing with taxes and debts has been largely underestimated by scholars. This is because the growth in state business and the role of the monarchy have been so closely associated with the structure of the administration that what was achieved by the estates through their own institutions has been virtually ignored. Only the parliamentary aspect of the development was of interest; only votes of taxes were investigated, and to a lesser extent the part played by the estates in legislation. Even the circle (Kreis) administration in the eastern provinces of Prussia, as well as in Bohemia, Hungary, and Poland - all of it run by the estates - was considered by Hintze to be state administration, with the simple difference that it was carried out by ' organs not directly responsible to or exclusively dependent upon state authority'. The formation of the state at the stage of the ' finance state' was made possible solely by the collaboration of the estates. In addition to the funds available to the ruler there were now one or more others at the disposal of the estates and administered by them. They had different names - in Bavaria the Landschaft, in Mecklenburg the Landkasten, in Wiirttemberg the Landschaftseinnehmerei, in Brandenburg the stdndisches Kreditwerk, in Saxony the Obersteuerkollegium, and so forth. These regional funds also played a not unimportant role as banking institutes, a role which has hardly been investigated. How was this development felt at the central level ? In the most important area, that of finance, one has to speak of a bipartite administration: there was a princely finance authority and a finance authority of the estates. The estates, however, had no firm control over the development of the prince's administrative bodies, though they might often influence them by securing the dismissal of officials, by insisting at times that only natives should be appointed as officials, or by putting their views forward in negotiations with the prince's advisers. The prince, on the other hand, might take a hand in the administrative activity of the estates by employing his advisers as representatives or commissioners. In most territories the prince was able, by the end of our period, to influence this activity, even to some extent to direct it, and so assert his sovereignty. The fiscal organization at the local level had been built up largely independently of the prince. The knights and towns collected the taxes and handed them over to their central tax body. Hintze has described the 192

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state importance of the estate-run administration in the territorial regions of north-eastern Germany, from eastern Holstein to Silesia, and has given a graphic account of the relations between these 'basic units of the system of the territorial estates' and the system of princely offices. This fiscal organization survived in many territories into the third period, in fact until the end of the Old Regime. Even in the heartland of absolutist Prussia, the Mark Brandenburg, the rural contribution was still being levied by the knights in the eighteenth century. It was in the second period that the territorial assemblies (Landtage) attained their greatest importance and fulfilled their highest functions. Apart from contributing to the development of the finance state, they were defenders of justice, advocating reform of the judicial system and working for the major codifications of the law. To a certain degree they not only instigated these reforms, but carried them through, though the dominant role was played by the prince's legal advisers. In addition, we find the estates actively fostering culture, visiting universities and schools, participating in decisions on confessional questions, and demanding to be heard in the ecclesiastical and educational policy of the territory. They also exercised a certain influence, though a diminishing one, over the increasingly autonomous committees set up by the prince to administer the territory. The course of cultural and ecclesiastical policy naturally varied greatly from territory to territory. Since in the east-German territories the land-owners (Junkers) developed their own local administration at the lower level side by side with the princely 'offices', they endeavoured, by virtue of their church patronage, to keep out any princely influence on the lower sphere of church and school policy. We must remember, however, that here too the ruler was trying to extend his authority; he was beginning to integrate the nobles into the body politic at the local level, bringing individual rights under growing - though still loose - supervision, in particular by requiring that the administrators of courts of law should have a legal training and that the clergy should be examined by the princely consistory. Recently Friedrich Liitge has stressed the increase in princely power brought by the victory over the peasants in the peasants' uprisings. Certainly this is a factor to which German constitutional historians have paid too little attention. However, the Peasants' War was not decisive for the consolidation of the modern state in the territories of Germany. The princes too, not only the lords, were the winners. Nor can we accept without some reservation Giinther Franz's view that the great Peasants' Revolt of 1524-5 was principally a rising against the demands of princely authority in early modern times; the landlords had made their own demands, directly and on their own account. We can summarize this stage in the formation of the state by speaking of great constructive achievements that were due

The constitutional development of the early modern state to a fully developed corporative constitution. It was only later, with a further increase in the power of the prince and his government apparatus, that the functions of the estates receded. In composite states comprising several territories, what Otto Hintze has called 'monarchical unions of corporative states', jurisdiction at the old territorial level - now the intermediate level in the new state - often remained in the hands of the estates and their clients. F. L. Carsten has reproached the Hohenzollerns with having failed to educate their old and new territorial estates to think in terms of the integral state and to collaborate positively. This is a reproach that could be levelled at all the German princes. Alternatively one might reproach all the territorial diets for failing to encourage this mode of thought in public opinion. The corporative organizations' concept of the state did not progress beyond a patriarchal view of their own tasks, and a similar view of the prince's calling prevailed. True, the estates embraced the doctrine, which was propagated especially by the monarchomachs and the political Neostoics, that public office was a service rendered to the whole community; but they did so only because this doctrine was opposed to dynastic self-interest and the notion that the prince's domains were his 'private' property. Too little attention has been paid to the wide currency enjoyed in German universities by the theory of a mutua obligatio between the ruler and the ruled, the sovereign and the subject, a theory that had been established in ecclesiastical circles since the sixteenth century. Even the doctrine of the majestas populi, the supreme sovereignty of the people as represented by the estates, could be voiced at Jena and Herborn, a Lutheran and a Reformed university (both princely foundations), in the seventeenth century. This view was still being interpreted by the estates in a partial manner when the overall political and military development demanded new state forms, and when the claims of the European state system were impinging on the German territories. Whereas Ranke observed of the first period in the evolution of the state on German soil that 'everything is dependent on the prince, who in his turn cannot take a single step without the estates', Otto Hintze in 1903 spoke of the prince and the assembly of the estates as simply two organs of one and the same organization, both of which had to co-operate in the service of the state and for its welfare. Hintze was expressing a view to which Werner Naf wished to return after a period in which scholars had placed too exclusive an emphasis on princely authority. However, he was speaking not only of the sixteenth but also of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. To sum up: at the stage of the 'finance state' there seems to have been a necessary and often equal partnership between the ruler and the estates. This brings us to the final phase or third period, that of the military, 194

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state economic, and administrative state, which was established in the seventeenth century and represents the second form of the early modern territorial state in pre-revolutionary Germany. As it has been assessed hitherto it presents very few problems. What separates the older corporative view of the state from the new monarchical and bureaucratic view is the attitude to the standing army. The idea of the corporative state in this era of change needs to be thoroughly investigated, and not only in Germany. What is required is not so much an analysis of abstract theories as an examination of the principles by which the estates acted at the territorial assemblies and in their dealings with the princes. Essential material is presented by H. Sturmberger in his work on Tschernembl (1953) and other writings; P. E. Back, Herzog und Landschaft (1955), also devotes an important section to the thinking of the estates in Pomerania around 1650. It was the struggle over the miles perpetuus that first divided the estates and the monarchy to such an extent that the princes sought to identify themselves with the whole body politic, i.e. the state. For this period, political wisdom or prudentia civilis comprised the conduct of civil and military affairs, prudentia togata and prudentia militaris. The new military organization, both its theory and its practice, arose where military force was required by a small, loosely knit political structure such as the Netherlands to defend itself against a leading military power like Spain. Here it was only a temporary phenomenon, but for the other powers of Europe and the individual German territories it permanently determined the structure of the new state. It was only the princes and their governments who learnt the hard lessons of the century of war from 1550 to 1650, and in particular those of the Thirty Years War fought on German soil. They excluded the estates, which opposed the military state, from the central area of power when once taxes had been voted. In return they granted the nobles social and economic advantages at the expense of the peasants. They also employed cunning and force majeure, since they could practise fiscal distraint by sending in the new troops; and they invoked the extrema necessitas of the state and raison d^etat. Only at this stage did princely authority unequivocally become a governing force representing the state as a whole. In some territories the estates continued to make a contribution to the formation of the state by voting and administering taxes. In a few they supplied contingents to the standing army and even developed their own official bodies to handle military affairs. Nowhere, however, did there emerge an estate-run administration for the military comparable with the earlier fiscal administration. The older estate organs were in fact superseded by the military commissioners of the prince. The territorial diets themselves, and hence the representative constitution as a whole at the central level, became more or less obsolete, even if it was not entirely abolished. True,

The constitutional development of the early modern state the committees of the diets might still be convened and used in support of the state as a whole, but they were now simply tools, not partners, of the monarchy now that it was stiffened by the military and the civil service. On the lowest level, however, the representative constitution was still fully active in many regions in fiscal affairs. In Bavaria, by contrast, the committee of the diet (the so-called Landesverordnung) and its officials did perform efficiently - more efficiently than the central bureaucracy of the Elector, which fell down on its tasks. The political trend, apart from producing the military state, led to an improvement in the financial basis of government and the formation of the economic state. The princes led the way in the work of reconstruction after the Thirty Years War. The cameralist theory, starting from the doctrine oimutua obligatio, committed the ruler to promoting the general commercial good, and in particular to working for a balance between the productive classes. In practice this princely initiative led to a strong territorial economy, which in its turn extended the power of the state through colonization and manufacturing policy. An important problem in the construction of the cameralist state was that of religious toleration. Many princes came up against intolerance on the part of the estates when they sought to achieve economic and political toleration for religious minorities. A well-known instance of this is the struggle of the Hohenzollerns against the close ties between the estates and the orthodox Lutheran Church. Both of these were set against tolerating non-Lutheran denominations and Jews. The princes broke the resistance of the regional estates in religious matters for reasons both of national economic interest and of natural law. Admittedly the estates found ways of preserving the old territorial religion and its liberties when their rulers went over to another, as happened from the end of the seventeenth century in Saxony, the Palatinate, and Wiirttemberg. At this stage in the formation of the state, the estates still claimed to represent the territory, whether at the central or the intermediate level. However, the princes and their administrations were by now the guardians of the security of all their subjects, though admittedly this guardianship was exercised at times rather one-sidedly in the spirit of the new concept of the state which the princes embodied. The estates evolved no discipline of their own within the framework of the new political forms, and the devotion to estate privileges and particular rights died hard. Hence monarchical discipline alone prevailed, and with it the habit of thinking in terms of state authority. The princes began to use such thinking in order to forge a bond of political solidarity among their subjects, though there was as yet not such thing as social solidarity. A pre-condition was created 196

The estates of Germany and the formation of the state for the later equality of all citizens before the law in a constitutional monarchy or democratic state. The formulation 'The estates are the territory', which is generally endorsed by German constitutional and legal historians, only holds good for the first phase to the extent that the individual estates were united among themselves. It is generally justified in the phase of the 'finance state'. It must be adjudged completely anachronistic in the third phase unless we see the build-up of military forces and weaponry in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as utterly senseless and the consequent antiauthoritarian policy pursued by the estates as serving the true interest of the territories. Such formulations simply cannot be applied to all stages of the corporative constitution and to all periods in which the estates had a political role. The fact is that in the era of absolutism the estates ceased to represent the general interest and came to stand only for their own corporative interests. In a changing society it became tHeir principal task to preserve their economic privileges and their functions in government as intermediate authorities between prince and people, together with their own special status and liberties. The unified state created by the princes, however, represented the salus publica - though undoubtedly it had a dynastic bias and was socially restrictive. The forces of order - the bureaucracy, the army, and the economic administration - often leaned heavily in the direction of reason of state, but on the central level the feeble vestiges of corporative representation were not in a position to offer any resistance. A different picture is presented by such territories as Saxony, Mecklenburg, Hanover, and - to a certain extent - Wiirttemberg, where representative constitutions survived. Wherever the third stage in the evolution of the modern state was reached, the power of the territorial diet was virtually eliminated. On the intermediate level of composite states the older bodies in which the estates had some influence were confined by the princes to the sphere of the law. They became in effect legal organs, intimately linked both in spirit and membership with the particular estates. They were a hangover from earlier times and were rendered obsolete, for instance in Prussia, by the great legal reforms of the eighteenth century, which were conceived in terms of the integral state. The extent to which their regional authority survived into the third phase is demonstrated on German soil by Prussia, which is always put forward as the model of German absolutism. It appears to me that Prussian constitutional history has been investigated, described, and assessed with undue reference to the European model of the absolute state as it evolved in France. Since it was not possible to show that the estates exercised an 197

The constitutional development of the early modern state effective influence on the central authority of the state, there has been an over-hasty tendency to adopt the common view that the estates were of no significance. In 1901 Hintze pointed to the tendency, in the late eighteenth century, to preserve and restore the institutions of the provincial and district estates. A preliminary survey of the organization and significance of the estates of the Mark Brandenburg throughout the eighteenth century has shown that the local Landschaft, i.e. the deputies and representatives of the estates, took action whenever a royal body interfered in the proper sphere of the rural nobility; moreover, they not only reacted in a negative manner, but acted positively on their own account. The activity of this provincial Landschaft must be assumed to have been more comprehensive than the available sources and the older literature would suggest. Such activity on the provincial level was exemplified by the founding of the rural fire societies and almshouses, by participation in legislation, and so forth. The Landschaft of Brandenburg, apart from its chief function as a fiscal and credit institute, was in the eighteenth century an institution by which the estates were represented and which had a powerful influence on agricultural policy, taxation, and the law, as is proved by the reform of justice after 1780. This confirms the fact that the estates, while no longer a political factor at the centre, were still able to play an important role as socio-political groups at the regional and local level in the final period, a period to which the increasingly suspect label of' absolutism' is attached. In general it appears that we must re-examine the functions of these supposedly defunct estate organisations in the eighteenth century. In all three of our periods the power of the estates was involved in varying degrees in the formation of the state and had varying relations with the developing political structure. By dividing the history of the German territories into three evolutionary phases and by taking account of the three political levels, we can arrive at a more sensitive and no doubt fairer assessment of the political successes and failures of the estates. A consideration of their social and economic influence has had to remain in the background. It seems to me highly important to throw some light on this background because of the way it affected constitutional development in Germany in the nineteenth century. But that is another topic.

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12

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century Germany in the early modern period presents an interesting picture: two opposing constitutional principles were being realized on the same soil. One of these, the corporative principle - or 'liberty', as it was called - carried the day on the highest political level, that is in the framework of the Empire, while the other, the monarchical principle, prevailed in the most important areas on the second level, that of territorial states which made up the Empire. This second level also accommodated a multiplicity of older feudal structures which had been left behind by the trend of constitutional development and never became states in the modern sense of the word. German constitutional history from the Middle Ages onwards is determined by this dichotomy. We observe on the one hand the decline of royal power and authority in the Empire itself, on the other the rise of the principalities, and also of the imperial cities with their republican structures. The early modern state, with its increasing monarchical authority, took shape not in the Empire as such, but within the regional states which belonged to it. I shall therefore begin my account of German monarchy from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century by considering the position of the Emperor. I shall then discuss the rise of monarchical rule in the imperial territories. Of prime importance for the development of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation - as the Sacrum Imperium Romanum came to be called after i486 - is the fact that the office of Emperor was elective. Being an elected monarch, the Emperor was never independent of those who elected him.1 The medieval title of the elected head of the Empire was Roman king 1

For a careful account of the subject, with emphasis on the constitutional aspects, see H. Conrad, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, Bd. n: Neuzeit bis 1806, Karlsruhe 1966, 1. Teil, 2. Abschnitt, 1-3, pp. 66-8. A more historical account is given by F. Hartung, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte vom 15. Jfahrhundert bis zur Gegenwart, 8 i964, §7 and §11, pp. 7-11 and 34-6. See also G. Oestreich, 'VerfassungsgeschichtevomEndedesMittelaltersbiszumEndedesaltenReiches', inB. Gebhardt, Handbuch der deutschen Geschichte, Bd. 2, Stuttgart, 9i97O §99, pp. 388-94; id., 'Das Reich Habsburgische Monarchic - Brandenburg-Preussen von 1648 bis 1803', in Th. Schieder (ed.), Handbuch der Europdischen Geschichte, Bd. 4, 'Europa im Zeitalter des Absolutismus und der 199

The constitutional development of the early modern state (romischer Konig) or king of the Romans (Rex Romanorum); only after being crowned by the Pope did he become Roman Emperor. The last crowning of an emperor by the Pope took place at Bologna in 1530. In 1508 Maximilian I, who had been elected 'Romanorum rex', adopted the style of 'Roman Emperor'. After the practice of papal coronation had been abandoned, the newly elected 'King in Germany' bore the title 'Elected Roman Emperor'. As W. Naf puts it, the title of 'Emperor' was 'incorporated into that of the German king' - or rather, the title of 'king' was eclipsed by the dignity and authority attaching to that of 'emperor'. The election was conducted according to the provisions of the electoral law of 1356, the Golden Bull. This was the oldest constitutional law of the Empire; it determined both theory and practice, and it remained the basis of all elections for over four-and-a-half centuries. For an election to be valid there had to be a majority among the electors, of whom there were seven. The electoral diet had to be convened in Frankfurt by the archbishop of Mainz, who was charged with conducting the election. The order of voting was laid down in the rules: the archbishop of Trier voted first, followed by the archbishop of Cologne, the king of Bohemia, the Count Palatine, the duke of Saxony, and the margrave of Brandenburg. The archbishop of Mainz voted last, thus having the casting vote in the event of a tie. There were further rules governing the electoral ceremonial, the coronation, and the honours to be rendered by the electors; these rules determined the forms of accession until 1806. The Electors were distinguished from the other spiritual and temporal princes by various privileges. Of particular significance in the case of the temporal princes was the rule which laid down the indivisibility of each Elector's territory, the law of primogeniture, and the procedure to be adopted in the case of a guardianship. The remaining privileges will be considered later in connection with the question of succession and the authority of the monarchical states within the Empire. The Golden Bull precluded the Pope from taking any part in the choice of the German king. No restriction was placed upon the Electors' choice. However, from the sixteenth century until the Empire came to an end, with one exception, they always chose the ruling archduke of Austria. The Aufklarung', Stuttgart 1968, pp. 378-475; A. Zycha, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte der Neuzeit, Marburg 2 i949, §6, pp. 39-45; H. E. Feine, 'Zur Verfassungsentwicklung des Heiligen Romischen Reiches seit dem Westfalischen Frieden', Zeitschrift fur Rechtsgeschichte 52 (1932) 72ff. For further literature see the bibliographical references in the above works, especially that of Conrad. A very full contemporary account of the Emperor's tasks, functions and rights from the middle of the eighteenth century is available in H. Conrad (ed.), Recht und Verfassung des Reiches in der Zeit Maria Theresias. Die Vortrdge zum Unterricht des Erzherzogs Joseph.. Am Deutschen Staats- und Lehnrecht, Cologne 1964. For sources see K. Zeumer, Quellensammlung zur Geschichte der deutschen Reichsverfassung in Mittelalter und Neuzeit, Tubingen 2 i 9 i 3 , repr. 1954. 200

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany exception occurred in 1742, when the Elector of Bavaria, Charles Albert, was unanimously elected and crowned as Charles VII. This happened because a woman, Maria Theresa, had become ruler of the Austrian lands in consequence of the Pragmatic Sanction, and a man was preferred for the office of Emperor. Charles VII died early, and in 1745 Francis Stephen of Lorraine, Maria Theresa's consort and co-regent, was elected German Emperor, though he took no part in imperial affairs. Subsequently the house of Habsburg-Lorraine supplied every Emperor until 1806. Even the division of the electoral college into Catholics and Protestants after the Reformation did nothing to affect the election of the Catholic Habsburgs; one may thus speak of a prescriptive right pertaining to the house of Habsburg. This does not mean, however, that no influence was exerted by foreign powers on imperial elections. Such influence was evident in 1519, when Charles I of Spain and Francis I of France were rival candidates, and again in the second half of the seventeenth century, when Louis XIV sought to obtain the imperial crown.2 The election of Charles VII too was an occasion for influence from abroad. Foreign powers played a part also in the question of the election of the king of the Romans, that is the Emperor's successor chosen during his lifetime. The Golden Bull provided for a vacancy, but not for the choice of a successor while the Emperor was alive. The Habsburgs, however, almost always contrived to secure the succession by this means.3 During the Thirty Years War both France and Sweden demanded that the election of a successor during the Emperor's lifetime should be prohibited. The demand did not succeed because the Electors and the Emperor had a common interest and were opposed to foreign intervention. Discussion of the election of the king of the Romans was postponed until the first imperial diet after peace had been concluded. More radical demands by the French for excluding from the succession whatever house was ruling at a given time were rejected by all the imperial estates. Despite forceful claims by the non-electoral princes for participation in the choice of the king of the 2

3

C. J. Burckhardt, 'Ludwig XIV. und die Kaiserkrone', in Vier historische Betrachtungen, Bamberg 1955; M. Gohring, 'Kaiserwahl und Rheinbund', in id. (ed.) Geschichtliche Krdfte und Entscheidungen; Festschrift zum 65. Geburtstage von 0. Becker, Wiesbaden 1954. Ferdinand I (Emperor 1556-64) was elected King of the Romans in 1531; Maximilian II (1564-76) in 1562; Rudolf II (1576-1612) in 1575; Ferdinand II (1619-37) in 1619 (after an unsuccessful attempt in 1618); Ferdinand III (1637-57) m 1636; Ferdinand IV (died 1654) in 1653; Joseph I (1705-n) in 1690; Joseph II (1765-90) in 1764. It seems characteristic that, with the exception of Joseph II, all the Kings of the Romans were already Kings of Bohemia. The character of the elective monarchy is examined by O. von Dungern, 'War Deutschland ein Wahlreich?', in Festschrift fiir A. Wach, Leipzig 1913, pp. 175-223. On the practice observed in 1636 Dungern speaks simply of a 'nomination', a 'formal raising to the throne of the heir apparent'. Yet since the electoral capitulation of 1612 the Electors had the right to put first the question as to the necessity of an election. 201

The constitutional development of the early modern state Romans, the old procedure was retained. The princes frequently expressed a desire for full consultation among all the estates as to the necessity of electing a Roman king at all, but they were ignored by the Electors. The struggle against the pre-eminence of the Electors in this matter went on for over half a century.4 In the seventeenth century the number of Electors rose to eight, since the Palatine Electorate had passed to the Duke of Bavaria during the Thirty Years War; the eighth electoral vote now went to the Palatinate. In 1692 a ninth vote was given to the house of Brunswick-Calenberg, the Hanoverian electoral line undertaking always to give its vote to the first born Duke of Austria. In the eighteenth century the number of Electors went down again to eight, the Palatinate and Bavaria having been united under one monarch. The Emperor's rights and functions were defined by several basic laws of the Empire. First we must mention the electoral capitulations, to which, from 1519 onwards, the Emperor had to subscribe on being elected.5 The electoral capitulation may be regarded as a governmental constitution, a kind of 'basic law' in the modern sense of the term. It was an instrument whereby the Emperor undertook to recognize the participation of the institutions of the imperial estates in the governance of the Empire. The scope of this participation was specified in detail. The moment was propitious for the Electors: in the thirty-three paragraphs relating to the governance of the Empire they were able to place strict limits on the rights of the Emperor. Their object was to protect themselves and the Empire against the dangerous power of its new head, who ruled over the Netherlands, Spain and the patrimonial lands of Austria. However, the electoral capitulation was not framed solely with Charles V in mind. The estates were influenced also by memories of his predecessor Maximilian I, with his foreign ambitions and countless wars. Moreover the realities of the constitution of the Empire, dominated as it was by the estates, determined to a considerable degree the content and the form of the electoral capitulation. Hence, the Emperor was prevented from appointing foreigners to imperial offices, bringing foreign troops into Germany without the consent of the Electors, holding diets and legal assemblies outside the Empire, and employing any official language other than German or Latin. He was committed to retaining existing constitutional laws, especially the Golden Bull and the Perpetual Peace of 1495, and all 4

5

G. Scheel, 'Die Stellung der Reichsstande zur Romischen Konigswahl seit den Westfalischen Friedensverhandlungen', in Forschungen zu Staat und Verfassung. Festgabe for F. Hartung, ed. by R. Dietrich and G. Oestreich, Berlin 1958, pp. 113-32. F. Hartung, 'Die Wahlkapitulationen der deutschen Kaiser und Konige', Historische Zeitschrift 107 (1911); and in Volk und Staat in der deutschen Geschichte, Gesammelte Abhandlungen, Leipzig 1940, pp. 67-93; G. Kleinheyer, Die kaiserlichen Wahlkapitulationen. Geschichte, Wesen und Funktion, Karlsruhe 1968. Kleinheyer is planning an edition of all the electoral capitulations.

202

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany the imperial traditions. He might not prosecute any legal claim by force, and only after due process of law, conducted by the estates, might he impose the imperial ban, which was the extreme penalty for a member of the Diet who had broken the public peace - later also the religious peace. In all important acts of government he was obliged to seek the collaboration of the Electors and the other estates. The conclusion of foreign treaties was dependent on the agreement of the majority of the Electors, and before going to war the Emperor had to have the approval of the estates, or at least of the Electors. Without the participation of the estates the monarch could not promulgate laws or raise taxes. He was not even permitted to convene an imperial diet. To ensure that these rules were observed, provision was made for a permanent government by the estates, known as the Reichsregiment, though this lasted for only half a century during the Emperor's absence from Germany. Subsequent emperors or kings were committed to these articles in their electoral capitulations. The content of the capitulations was enlarged to include new constitutional laws such as the Religious Peace of Augsburg of 1555 and the constitutional provisions of the Peace of Westphalia. The capitulation of Ferdinand III in 1636 was the first since 1531 to contain substantial changes. At the height of the Thirty Years War - after the Emperor's military and political successes, after the Edict of Restitution and the Peace of Prague, and after many years of imperial domination - the Electors tried to organize themselves more efficiently as a college and to place the future head of the Empire under constant supervision and restraint in the planning and execution of policy.6 During the negotiations for the Peace of Westphalia the lesser estates of the Empire demanded the right to take part in the framing of the electoral capitulation. They now proposed a capitulatio perpetua. This plan to devise a basic law failed because the Emperor and the Electors presented a united front; the Electors did not want their privileges restricted and blocked any move towards parity between themselves and the other estates. A union of princes was formed as a constitutional counterpart of the electoral college. After nine years of negotiation they produced a first draft of a capitulatio perpetua; this was reformulated in 1711, but it never acquired the force of law. It merely served as a basis for all subsequent capitulations until the end of the Empire. One of the reasons for the failure of these demands was the weakening of French and Swedish support for them. 6

H. Haan, Der Regensburger Kurfiirstentag von 1636/37 (Schriftenreihe der Vereinigung zur Erforschung der neueren Geschichte 3), Miinster 1967, pp. 2O9ff., describes the proceedings. The Bavarian Elector commented that attention was paid to the capitulation during the electoral negotiations, and the elected King of the Romans swore to it, * but afterwards, when all this was over and done with, little further attention was paid to it and no changes were made to it, whether it was observed or not' (ibid., p. 213).

203

The constitutional development of the early modern state When the imperial throne was vacant, the Electors of the Palatinate and Saxony acted in place of the Emperor in accordance with the provisions of the Golden Bull within the boundaries of the Rhenish and the Saxon vicariate respectively. A dispute was carried on for almost a century between Bavaria and the Palatinate as to who should administer the Rhenish vicariate. It was settled by treaty in 1724 and 1745 or 1752, first in favour of joint administration, later in favour of an alternation.7 At such times the imperial administrators exercised the rights of the Emperor, with the proviso that the future Emperor should ratify what they had done. There were corresponding provisions for the Emperor's absence from Germany, but these had no significance after the reign of Charles V. The Golden Bull stipulated that the king should be elected in Frankfurt and crowned in Aachen. Ferdinand I was elected in Cologne, since the venue for the royal election, the church of St Bartholomew, belonged to the Protestants. After Maximilian II the election and subsequent coronations were nearly always held in Frankfurt. The imperial insignia were brought from Niirnberg and Aachen for the occasion.8 Before we consider the Emperor's authority, it will be necessary to look briefly at the history of political ideas. The sixteenth century produced some unusually lively debates, to which constitutional historians have paid little attention.9 In early modern times the interpretation of the position, authority and rights of the Emperor was a matter of intense controversy in German constitutional law and political theory, between which there was for the most part a striking measure of agreement. Anyone wishing to familiarize himself with the progress of political theory in Germany must work his way through the treatises on constitutional law. There are many discoveries to be made in them, for German political theory was by no means in so parlous a state as would appear from current legal and historical research. In fact, 7 8

9

Further details in H. Conrad (ed.) Recht und Verfassung, cit (above, n. i), pp. 470-5. The ceremonies of the election and coronation are described, with 14 engravings, in H. Meinert, Von Wahl und Kronung der deutschen Kaiser zu Frankfurt am Main. Mit dem Kronungsdiarium des Kaisers Matthias aus dem Jahre 1612, Frankfurt 1956; W. Goldinger, 'Das Zeremoniell der deutschen Konigskronung seit dem spaten Mittelalter', Mitteilungen Oberosterr. Landesarchiv 5 (1957) 9iff. The coronation oaths are given by E. Eichmann, Quellensammlung zur kirchlichen Rechtsgeschichte und zum Kirchenrecht 11, Paderborn 1914. Cf. also H. Reuter-Pettenberg, Bedeutungswandel der Romischen Konigskronung in der Neuzeit (diss.), Cologne 1963. For a summary see E. Wolf, ' Idee und Wirklichkeit des Reiches im deutschen Rechtsdenken des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts', in K. Larenz (ed.), Reich und Recht in der deutschen Philosophie 1, Stuttgart and Berlin 1943, pp. 33-168; O. von Gierke, Das deutsche Genossenschaftsrecht iv (Staats- und Korporationslehre der Neuzeit), Berlin 1913 repr. Darmstadt 1954, p. 2156*".; id., jfoh. Althusius und die Entwicklung der naturrechtlichen Staatstheorien, Aalen 5 i958, p. 6, n. 9 and pp. i64ff.; F. Dickmann, Der Westfdlische Frieden, Miinster 2 i965, pp. 124-42 (with further literature). A modern investigation based on the primary literature is needed if we are to understand the conflict between absolutist and corporative theory.

204

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany German theorists could hold their own in many areas with the better-known thinkers of western Europe. At the beginning of the movement for imperial reform, which led to the great laws relating to the governance and structure of the Empire at the end of the fifteenth century, we find a confrontation of two ideas - the idea of the corporative state, which conceded only a contractual authority to the Emperor, and the imperial idea, grounded in Roman law, according to which the monarch enjoyed total authority. The corporative idea found real expression in the resolutions of the Imperial Diet of 1495. They reveal the reality of the contractual relations between the Emperor and the estates in the ' management of peace and law' and provided the rationale for a supreme imperial court controlled by the estates. The attempt to set up a permanent government for the Empire, the Reichsregiment of 1500, and not least the electoral capitulation of 1519 - the great contract between the Empire and its ruler, by which the rights of the estates were renewed and enlarged upon the election of each new ruler - all point in the same direction. However, it was only after the religious division of Germany that the plight of the Protestant minority led to a full elaboration of the theory of the corporative state which was unfavourable to the Emperor. The political leader of the new faith, Landgrave Philip of Hesse, based his opposition to the Emperor on a constitutional doctrine according to which the monarch, who held his office by virtue of election, was always inferior in authority to the estates as a whole. The hereditary and elected princes entered into a compact with the emperor elect by which his functions were circumscribed. The estates thus reserved to themselves a share in imperial authority. The actual point at issue was the denial of the Emperor's authority in the matter of the confessional allegiances of the princes and their subjects. Thus, at an early stage, the doctrine was being canvassed that the Empire was an aristocracy of the estates, and any relevance of Roman law to its affairs was rejected. So were any claims of the Emperor which might derive from the application of Roman law to German conditions. At the same time the rights of opposition belonging to the estates were adopted as a fundamental principle of imperial constitutional law. Luther too endorsed the positive consequences which flowed from this Protestant view of constitutional law. Calvinists abroad regarded the Empire as a state founded upon a contract, a contract which conceded to the Emperor only a limited authority to govern. After the compromise of the Religious Peace of Augsburg, the confessional disputes became fiercer. The struggle against the Emperor, who favoured and later led the Counter-Reformation, again became a matter of immediate concern. Hence there was a new efflorescence in political theory and imperial constitutional law about 1600. The corporative nature of the 205

The constitutional development of the early modern state Empire was more strongly emphasized. The Marburg Calvinist Hermann Vultejus contested the monarchical view of the Empire based on Roman law; for him it was part monarchy, part aristocracy, and its head had effective authority only as a supreme feudal lord. The contrary view was propounded by Gottfried Antonius at the orthodox Lutheran university of Giessen; this saw the plenitudo potestatis of the Emperor as an absolute authority to make laws. The notion of the Empire as a corporation of estates in which the Emperor had no monarchical sovereignty was voiced by the best-known German social theorist, Johannes Althusius, in his famous Politica digesta (1603, revised in 1614), and by the Jena school, which aligned itself with Marburg and whose leading light was Dominicus Arumaeus. Arumaeus, who became professor in Jena in 1602, came from the Netherlands, where the freedom of the estates flourished. This trend of thought interpreted the fundamental laws and traditions of the Empire in a purely corporative sense; the electoral capitulation was hailed, in terms of Roman law, as the lex regia of the Germans, and the mutua obligatio of the ruler and the estates was interpreted, in terms of contemporary contractual theory, as a fundamental restriction placed upon the Emperor. The fiercest opponent of Althusius and the German monarchomachs from 1610 onwards was Henning Arnisaeus, who credited the Emperor with absolute authority. The real conditions obtaining in the Empire, however, were interpreted, notably by Protestant constitutional thinkers, according to the doctrine of the 'mixed' constitution, the imperium mixtum or the status mixtus ret publicae. Here again there was agreement with the anti-absolutist ideas current elsewhere under the names monarchie limitee (France), mixed government (England) or monarchia mixta (Sweden).10 In order to link the concept of majestas, of indivisible sovereignty - a concept which had been elaborated in particular by Bodin - with the aristocratic structure of the Empire, the Jena school created the theory of'double majesty', consisting of majestas realis and majestas personalis. This was developed into one of

the basic principles of constitutional law. Otto von Gierke called it 'the key to our understanding of the constitution of the German Empire'. Majestas realis resided permanently with the people, just as it did in the theories of the late scholastic theologian-legists of Spain and the French monarchomachs. The Emperor was credited with majestas personalis, that is with a definite sovereignty limited by the basic laws of the state. The people, which was represented by the Electors (here called 'ephors') and other imperial bodies, exercised control over the Emperor's rights and participated in 10

The most detailed investigation is by N. Runeby, Monarchia mixta. Maktfordelningsdebatt i Sverige under den tidigare stormaktstiden, Stockholm 1962 (with an extensive summary in German). The dispute between Althusius and Arnisaeus was continued in Sweden. 206

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany government. The theory not only salvaged the corporative character of the Empire, but reinforced it: the Emperor was major singulis, minor universis or, if the imperium was viewed as the totality of the estates, minor imperio. The most famous constitutional lawyer in Germany in the age of the Thirty Years War, Johannes Limnaeus,11 was thus able to describe as tyrannical any governmental act of the Emperor which was at variance with the rights of the estates; this furnished a legitimation for opposition to the Emperor. Not the least important result of the doctrine of the mixed constitution was the clearer negative definition of the rights reserved to the Emperor. In the same period, on the other hand, Theodor Reinking, in his work on constitutional law, stressed the fundamentally monarchical character of the Empire, contesting the doctrine of double majesty and thus in theory maintaining the sovereignty of the Emperor. However, when describing constitutional realities, he had to acknowledge that the Emperor's authority was limited. The doctrine of the aristocracy of the estates was most consistently worked out by Hippolithus a Lapide in his well-known treatise De ratione status in Imperio nostro Romano-Germanico of 1640. This was hostile to the cause of the Emperor. Hippolithus recognized a right of legislation on the part of the estates alone, ignoring the Emperor's right to propose legislation in the Imperial Diet and considering only the framing of resolutions. (Limnaeus had already written in 1629: 'Non ad propositionem, sed ad conclusionem spectandum est.') The constitutional lawyers of the period were after all largely right, for there was ultimately a legislative initiative latent in the estates' right to present gravamina, d. kind of'anti-proposition' which allowed grievances to be put forward. With the Peace of Westphalia the corporative principle triumphed. A mere twenty years later Pufendorf, using the pseudonym Monzambano, published his De statu Imperii Germanici, an acute and in parts derisive analysis of the imperial constitution. Before this, the academic lawyer H. Conring of Helmstedt had punctured the mystique of the Holy Roman Empire. Pufendorf in his critique called the Empire 'irregulare aliquod corpus et monstro simile', but he offered no new political theory of the office of Emperor. The Emperor's position and entitlements he described as being restricted by 'power and custom'. Leibniz, writing in the service of the electorates of Mainz and Hanover, expressed himself more than once during the following decades on the structure of the Empire, though his plans for reform were never intended to enhance the power of the Emperor. The jurists and political theorists of the eighteenth century were more 11

Cf. R. Hoke, Die Reichsstaatslehre des Johannes Limnaeus, Aalen 1968. Hoke also deals generally with the German doctrine ofmajestas (pp. 54-151) and the mixed constitution (pp. 151-220) with bibliographical references. Arnisaeus is not discussed.

207

The constitutional development of the early modern state impressed by the predominance of the estates than by the prerogatives of the Emperor, which they no longer even mentioned. Even in the writings of the imperial publicists like the constitutional lawyer Johann Stephan Putter of Gottingen, the rights of the Emperor have entirely melted away because of the increasingly exclusive sovereignty of the territories, which admitted of no competition from the authority of the Emperor. Moreover, the territorial ruler had the right to withhold his assent to any measures initiated by the Emperor and the Empire; the Emperor's authority itself had to rely of the 'strong arm of the estates' ('territoriali manu forti'), since the Empire had no administrative infrastructure.12 What governmental rights did the Emperor possess ? On being crowned he first received the homage of the imperial cities and opened the Aulic Council. This underlines his close relation with the estate of the imperial cities and with the Aulic Council. (He had, however, no real authority in the cities.) The Aulic Council first received a firm constitution in 1559, in the time of Ferdinand I. 13 The estates sought to gain influence over it, especially during the fierce confessional disputes before and after 1600, but the Emperor managed to keep it independent of them. Its 1654 constitution was promulgated by the Emperor alone, without consulting the estates, and this remained in force until 1806. All its members were nominated by the Emperor alone, though from 1648 onwards there had to be six who subscribed to the Augsburg Confession. Proceedings before the Council were notably briefer than those of the Imperial Chamber, the Empire's highest legal tribunal, whose members were appointed partly by the estates. Hence many suits went before the Aulic Council, which thus became a successful rival of the Imperial Chamber. In 1706 the Emperor even refused his assent to a resolution of the Imperial Diet (a consultum Imperil) which would have prohibited appeals from the Chamber to the Council. The Aulic Council originally served as the Emperor's council of state, the ruling body of the Empire and its supreme feudal court; at the same time it was an imperial court of law. In the seventeenth century, however, its functions as a council of state passed more and more to the Privy Council or Privy Conference and the imperial court chancery. Part of the Emperor's authority is clear from the functions which devolved upon the Aulic Council in its governmental and administrative role. It supported the Emperor in his capacity as protector of the Church, in preserving the royal prerogative, 12

13

Cf. U. Schlie, Joh. Stephan Putters Reichsbegriff, Gottingen 1961, pp. 33ff.; C. G. Biener, Bestimmung der Kaiserlichen Machtvollkommenheit in der deutschen Reichsregierung (3 parts), Leipzig 1780. O. von Gschliesser, Der Reichshofrat. Bedeutung und Verfassung, Schicksal und Besetzung der obersten Reichsbehorde von 155Q-1806, Vienna 1942.

208

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany and in supervising the weaker territorial authorities, especially the ecclesiastical foundations directly subordinate to him, the imperial cities, and the imperial knights. It was this supervisory activity of the Aulic Council, with its commissions and mandates, which, more particularly in the eighteenth century, contributed to the influence of the Emperor - even in the larger principalities such as Mecklenburg-Schwerin — to say nothing of his intervention and mediation in the affairs of the cities. The Council's records show his authority at work in posts and customs, in the execution of laws relating to the coinage, in the censoring of books, and in the granting of the most varied privileges reserved to the Emperor. In such matters, then, the Emperor acted alone, without the participation of the estates. Moreover, he was petitioned for the ratification of contracts involving persons or lands immediately subordinate to the Empire, and about relations between territorial rulers and their estates, between cathedral chapters and subjects, between civic magistrates and citizens. He was consulted in questions of primogeniture, hereditary fraternity, and so forth. In addition to all this the Aulic Council functioned as the supreme feudal court of the Empire: the Empire's legal and social structure was still feudal, and the Emperor remained its supreme feudal lord. Administration and jurisdiction in all feudal matters were the concern of this central imperial tribunal. Finally the Council had jurisdiction over all the estates in criminal matters, in disputes concerning precedence among the estates, including such questions as elevations in rank, titles, dignities, entitlements to coats of arms, and so forth. The imperial court chancery was administered by the imperial Arch-Chancellor, the elector of Mainz, who, acting with the Emperor, had determined its constitution in 1559.14 At the Emperor's court, the seat of the imperial chancery, he was represented by the imperial vice-chancellor, about whose presentation and nomination disputes continued between Vienna and Mainz right up to the end of the Empire. As a consequence of this, every electoral capitulation contained legal guarantees of the rights of the archchancellor over the staff of the imperial chancery. Depending on the situation or the power he enjoyed at a given time, the Emperor either recognized or circumvented these rights. Since the Emperor involved the authorities of his patrimonial domains in the performance of his imperial tasks, the importance of the imperial court chancery progressively diminished ; its influence was at its highest when Friedrich Karl von Schonborn was vice-chancellor from 1705 to 1734. 14

L. Gross, Die Geschichte der deutschen Reichshofkanzlei von i$5g-i8o6, Wiener Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchivs 1).

209

Vienna 1923. (Inventare des

The constitutional development of the early modern state However, the judicial authority of the Empire - and hence of the Emperor - had already been restricted by the Golden Bull as far as the electoral lands were concerned. These had been granted the privilegium de non appellando et de non evocando. One or other of these privileges was later acquired by other imperial estates, so that jurisdiction within the territories lay to a great extent with the princes, unless there was a clear denial of justice. On closer inspection, the Emperor's rights fall under three heads. The 'rights of majesty' were exercised either by the Emperor and the assembly of the estates (the Imperial Diet), or by the Emperor acting with the agreement of the college of Electors, or by the Emperor acting alone. The first two categories constitute the jura comitialia, the third the jura reservata. All questions relating to religion and the churches belonged, on the basis of the Peace of Augsburg, to the first category. With regard to internal security and everything that was covered by the term Policey from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, a gradual change took place. In the sixteenth century the imperial police ordinances of 1530, 1548 and 1577, which were passed by the Diet, that is by the Emperor and the estates acting in concert, laid down regulations for the public and private order, the organization of trade and crafts, and so forth. As the authority of the estates increased, matters of internal order were settled by them alone. An 'advice' of the Imperial Diet (a consultum Imperil) needed the assent of the Emperor and promulgation by him before it could become law as a conclusum Imperil. The Emperor frequently refused his assent, as in 1671, when he rejected a consultum which would have increased the power of the imperial estates over their own territorial estates and subjects. Even the urgent question of the law relating to the organization of gilds was delayed for sixty years because of the Emperor's refusal to ratify it. Imperial finances were made up from ordinary and extraordinary taxes. The only ordinary tax was that intended for the upkeep of the Imperial Chamber, but it was difficult to levy; consequently the work of the Empire's highest legal institution was often hampered by inadequate staffing. Out of the extraordinary taxes, which had to be approved on each occasion by the Diet or by the assemblies of the imperial circles, the imperial army and imperial fortresses had to be maintained. Constant difficulties arose since many princes avoided payment on the pretext that they had not themselves approved the taxes. This was a challenge to the rights of the Empire's supreme assembly. At the end of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the seventeenth, at the time of the Turkish wars, an attempt was made by Zacharias Geizkofler, the Imperial Treasurer, who came from the private banking house of the Fuggers, to build up afinancialadministration for the Empire. The first instruction to the Imperial Treasurer was issued 210

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany by the Emperor in 1589; the second, in 1598, came from the Imperial Diet.15 However, neither he nor his successors managed to bring order into the fiscal affairs of the Empire. The Emperor's conduct of foreign policy was controlled through the participation of the Electors or the estates. The decision to go to war could be made only in open Diet. The conclusion of peace required the participation of the Electors and the estates. With alliances the procedure varied. For normal cases the electoral capitulation prescribed deliberation and resolution by the Diet. Only in emergencies might the Emperor conclude an alliance with the approval of the Electors alone. When the permanent Diet in Regensburg came into existence in 1663 the old right of the Emperor to convene Imperial Diets lapsed.16 In earlier times the Emperor had opened the Diet in person and determined its agenda by his 'proposition'. Now he was represented by a principal commissioner, an office which was held by the Prince of Thurn und Taxis, the imperial postmaster-general in Regensburg. The Empire remained a feudal state until its dissolution. Hence the Emperor's reserved rights included the conferment of fiefs on vassals of the Empire, the granting of pardons, elevations in rank, titles and coats of arms; he might also confer privileges on persons and bodies such as universities, legitimize natural children, and ratify agreements between princes and their territorial estates. The Emperor's right to raise a person's rank and to nominate princes and counts of the Empire lost its constitutional significance, because the new nominees could acquire a seat and a vote in the Imperial Diet only if the estates agreed. These jura reservatay which have never been listed in their entirety, were all that was left of monarchical authority. The Emperor's rights in ecclesiastical questions were greatly reduced by the Religious Peace of Augsburg and the Peace of Westphalia, which gave every estate of the Empire the right to determine its confessional allegiance. However, Ferdinand I had inserted into the Peace of Augsburg, in the face of Protestant opposition, the so-called ' spiritual reservation'; this obliged any ecclesiastical prince who went over to the new faith to give up his office and government. This arbitrary exercise of authority by the Emperor remained a point of controversy in imperial law until the Peace of Westphalia froze the confessional boundaries. Yet no long-term legal consequence 15

16

J. Miiller, Zacharias Geizkofler 1560-161 j , des Heiligen Romischen Reiches Pfennigmeister, Baden 1938

(with further literature). On the relation between the Emperor and the diet cf. F. H. Schubert, Die deutschen Reichstage in der Staatslehre der friihen Neuzeit, Gottingen 1966, passim. On the general rights of the Emperor, including those he enjoyed in the diet (proposition, sanction on imperial advice), cf. the fundamental investigation (unpublished) of J. Pratje, Die kaiserlichen Reservatrechte - Jura caesarea reservata

(diss., Erlangen 1957), with 50 pages of bibliography. 211

The constitutional development of the early modern state ensued from Ferdinand's decree. On the other hand the Emperor retained the jus primariarum precum, which entitled him, after his coronation, to fill a number of major and minor benefices in all spheres of church life.l7 When an election was announced, the German emperors or kings of the Romans petitioned the Pope to grant an indult for their 'first requests'; this was never refused. The disputes over the Emperor's nominations in religious houses that had gone over to Protestantism ended when the Emperor's right was recognized in 1648. Provision was then made for a Protestant 'precist'. Whereas in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the Emperor had only a limited and ineffective say, through his representatives, in the election of ecclesiastical princes, in the eighteenth he was to demand - and exert - considerable influence, through his electoral commissioners, in appointments to imperial bishoprics. The restriction of the power of the Emperor, which ran counter to the trend towards modern state power, was demonstrated in the matter of the imperial army. In 1521 the imperial matricula determined the number of troops to be provided by each principality and the amount to be used for their pay in the form of the ' Roman month'; the Roman month became the basic norm for all votes of military funds by the Diet. The imperial ordinance of execution of 1555 shared out the provision of the armed forces among the ten imperial circles. These circles, which occupied a position midway between the true provinces of the Empire and the self-governing bodies of the territories, each had to supply a contingent for the imperial army. No provision was made for the supreme military command. On several occasions the imperial general Lazarus von Schwendi tried to get the Diet to confer the command on the Emperor, but in 1570 his project finally failed. Only the right to permit the recruitment by foreigners of mercenaries within the Empire was conceded to the Emperor. The imperial army made up of contingents from the circles was for the most part of no significance for the Emperor's own policy. Consequently successive emperors tried to fulfil their obligations under imperial law by using their own army, even though this meant allying themselves with individual princes who disposed of military power. In 1547-8, after the Schmalkaldic War, Charles V made a bid to gain absolute power as Emperor; so did Ferdinand II, after defeating the Protestants in the Thirty Years War.18 Charles failed because he came up against the military strength of Maurice of Saxony, who was backed by France. Ferdinand wished ultimately to reserve to the Emperor the sole 17

18

H. E. Feine, 'Papst, Erste Bitten und Regierungsantritt des Kaisers seit dem Ausgang des Mittelalters', Zeitschrift fur Rechtsgeschichte, Kan. Abt. 51, 1931. This last point is disputed by H. Haan, 'Kaiser Ferdinand II. und das Problem des Reichsabsolutismus. Die Prager Heeresreform von 1635', HZ 207 (1968) 2976°. 212

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany right to form an army, and, by the Peace of Prague in 1635, t 0 prohibit all the imperial princes from making their own alliances and pursuing independent foreign policies. His attempt to convert his majestas personalis into a majestas absoluta fairly soon ended in failure, ultimately because of the policy adopted by France and Sweden during the negotiations for the Peace of Westphalia. Consequently the Empire never developed into a modern state with a strong central authority; this very fact, however, made possible the development of a variety of monarchical structures on imperial soil. This second part of the chapter will give an account of the evolution of dynastic succession and political authority in the individual German states. We must not try to force the multiplicity of political structures into a single set of historical categories. So great was the diversity of constitutional forms and political structures that the solutions which were arrived at cannot be judged by applying uniform criteria.19 As far as the Empire itself was concerned, the principle of indivisibility held good without being enshrined in its laws. In the secular states, by contrast, partitions were common despite many dynastic and legal agreements to the contrary. Such partitions were based on the principle of heritability. This heritability was a mark of the territorial prince's independence, and it was often played off against the elected Emperor in constitutional disputes over the monarchical or aristocratic character of the Empire. In the ecclesiastical territories, which were of various sizes and ruled by archbishops, bishops, imperial abbots and so forth, things were different: here the rulers were elected by their chapters, and their lands were never partitioned. Such ecclesiastical states, while becoming fewer, survived until 1806. There was no fixed mode of succession in the territories. It was only in the late medieval and early modern period that house-laws began to be promulgated or contracts devised which were intended to hold good for the entire dynasty, and that testaments were drawn up which insisted upon primogeniture. After it had been laid down by the Golden Bull that the electoral lands were indivisible and that certain laws of inheritance must obtain in them, various princely houses followed suit - Wiirttemberg in 1482, Albertine Saxony in 1499, Bavaria in 1506. These provisions were 19

For general literature on the subject of this second part see n. i above, esp. H. Conrad, op. cit., 2. Teil, chs 1-3, pp. 231-40^. Hartung, op. cit., pp. §§18-31, pp. 58-141; G. Oestreich, Gebhardt's Handbuch der deutschen Geschichte, §§100-9, 394~43^; id., in Schieder's Handbuch der Europdischen

Geschichte, §18, pp. 338ff.; A. Zycha, op. cit., §§15, 17, 18, 20, 21, pp. 81-161. See also E. Forsthoff, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichteder Neuzeit,21961, section I, ch. 2; section II, chs. 1 and 2, pp. 33-64. In addition to the penultimate work cited in n. 1 above, there is another contemporary account, H. Conrad and G. Kleinheyer (eds.), Vortrdge iiber Recht und Staat von Carl Gottlieb Svarez (1746-1 jg8\ Cologne i960. 213

The constitutional development of the early modern state by no means universally adhered to. In fact, lands continued to be partitioned, and new house-laws became necessary in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, introducing primogeniture and the principle of indivisibility into the parts of what had formerly been integral territories. Such are those for Liineburg (1592), Brandenburg (1603), Austria (1621) and Hanover (1680). Even as late as 1803 primogeniture was established in the tiny principality of Saxe-Meiningen. Such laws of inheritance contributed to the power of the individual princely houses vis-a-vis the authority of the Emperor and of the other princes and at the same time strengthened that of the territorial ruler over the estates in his own lands. For disputes over succession and periods of rule by minors had always worked to the disadvantage of monarchical authority and in favour of the ambitions of the estates. It is thus not surprising 'that efforts were made in 1653, though without success, to introduce a general imperial law requiring primogeniture'.20 In general the Salic Law applied in the German territories. This precluded women from succeeding to the throne, succession being open only to agnates, that is men related through males. If the male line came to an end, a 'fraternity' was established with another princely house to provide for mutual succession; such arrangements were then ratified by the Emperor. One of the most famous canons of inheritance was the Pragmatic Sanction of 1713 governing the Austrian succession. Ten years earlier, Leopold I had promulgated a pactum mutuae successions, according to which the legitimate male line of all branches was to succeed before the female descendants of any branch. After all the males had died out, the females should qualify for the succession according to primogeniture. The sole surviving male descendant of the house that ruled over' a monarchical union of corporative states' 21 was Charles VI. He added new provisions to the instrument of 1703 and had the Pragmatic Sanction guaranteed by the estates in the Austrian patrimonial lands, and also in Bohemia, Hungary and the former Spanish Netherlands. The Hungarians followed their own electoral law, electing Maria Theresa and declaring the female line of the Habsburgs qualified to succeed. The efforts that went into securing recognition of the Pragmatic Sanction by the separate states of Europe cannot occupy us here. The German territorial state in the early modern period was a dualist structure with a monarchical and a corporative component. It was only by slow degrees that the idea emerged of a unified state authority embracing separate feudal rights and mirroring the western European pattern of 20 21

H. Conrad (ed.), Recht und Verfassung des Reiches..., p. 576. O. Brunner, 'Das Haus Osterreich und die Donaumonarchie\ Sudost-Forschungen 14 (1955) 126.

214

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany internal sovereignty. At first, authority was distributed among several groups of persons; only gradually did the central authority of the territory come to be concentrated in the person of the prince. Legislation affords one instance of this shift.22 The general laws which affected wide areas of public life originally took the form of 'police ordinances'. These were promulgated with the approval of the estates. They contained regulations for public order and social discipline, administration, morals, and even dress and luxury, together with provisions against usury and the adulteration of foodstuffs; they also laid down sanitary measures. These territorial ordinances dealt also with fundamental questions of trade and economic policy, having sections relating to markets, crafts and gilds. The obligation to work might be laid down together with working hours and wage rates. However, little by little the prince dispensed with the participation of the estates in such matters and dealt with them as a sovereign ruler by means of special edicts. These became more and more extensive. It was a general trait of monarchical authority in a territorial state that the sovereign's tasks multiplied, while the Emperor's became fewer. The authority of the territorial ruler combined an almost personal concern for the welfare of the citizen with an insistence on the authority of the state. A distinct accretion of princely power came with the Reformation and Counter-Reformation, which made territorial rulers, Protestant and Catholic alike, responsible for church affairs. From now on the ruler claimed extensive rights of government in ecclesiastical and cultural matters, to the virtual exclusion of the estates - even, for instance, in the supervision of local universities. In this he had the backing of imperial law, since the Religious Peace of Augsburg guaranteed him sovereignty over church and culture. In many territories no absolute sovereignty was attained in fiscal affairs before the French Revolution, but in the main the rights of the territorial estates to vote taxes dwindled to a pure formality. In Bavaria and Brandenburg-Prussia the ruler maintained his army and his fortresses at first with the sanction of imperial law, and later without it. Paragraph 180 of the Final Imperial Recess of 1654 committed the territorial estates to the upkeep of fortresses and garrisons belonging to the estates of the Empire. Then, as a second step in the process, the electoral capitulation of 1658 deprived the territorial estates of any right to vote territorial taxes and convoke territorial assemblies; it also denied them the right to sue before the imperial courts in any questions relating to thefiscalsovereignty of the ruler. However, the third step, represented by a resolution of the permanent Diet in 1671, which sought to establish the universal fiscal 22

F. Wieacker, Privatrechtsgeschichte der Neuzeit, Gottingen 2 1967, pp. 189-203 and 322-39; W. Ebel, Geschichte der Gesetzgebung in Deutschland, Hanover 1956, pp. 55-77. 215

The constitutional development of the early modern state sovereignty of the princes over their subjects and even to extend it, failed to gain the Emperor's assent and did not become law. Monarchical authority in the larger German states, as in the other states of Europe, developed as a result of the formation of standing armies and the development of administrative organization. The miles perpetuus became an instrument of power, created in times of emergency and war; in peace-time too the standing army provided the prince with a strong backing for his edicts and mandates, as well as for his fiscal demands. Since, until now, there had been no police organization in the territories, some of the troops were employed to maintain law and order. Unlike the earlier mercenary armies, which were recruited for temporary service and organized and financed by military entrepreneurs, the new army was the creation of the prince, its officers being commissioned by him alone. It was maintained directly out of territorial contributions or subsidies from other princes. Even though it was still made up of hirelings, the fact that it was a state army gave it a certain national and territorial character; this benefited the dynasty more than the territory itself.23 In the bureaucracy too monarchical discipline made an important contribution to the development of state power, the separate branches of the administration being strengthened and entirely subordinated to the prince. The latest German research has rightly concentrated on the part played by the organs of the estates and by the participation of the estates in the work of the governmental bodies of the territories. The general trend, however, was for the representative organs to be superseded by those of the monarchy. In the early sixteenth century the prince established the court council, later the privy council, as the highest governmental authority. Whereas in the sixteenth century it was the personal rule of the prince, centered upon the office or chamber, that gave his government its individual character, this was succeeded in later times by cabinet government or government in council, depending on the extent of the prince's personal involvement.24 In the sphere offinancialadministration, the prince's' office chambers' or 'court chambers' (Amtskammern or Hofkammern) were set up, and in the ecclesiastical sphere consistory courts and church councils were instituted. In the realm of jurisdiction the estates were still active in the work of legal tribunals in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Later the prince was able to make himself independent of them here too, though the local nobility shielded the lower courts from the power of the ruler. Starting in the second half of the seventeenth century, - though in the main it did not become obvious until the eighteenth - an important 23 24

See ch. 13 below. H . O. Meisner, 'Staats- und Regierungsformen in Deutschland seit dem 16. Jahrhundert', Archiv des offentlichen Rechts 77 ( N F 38) (1951/52); also printed in H . H . Hofmann (ed.), Die Entstehung des modernen souverdnen Staates, Cologne-Berlin 1967, pp. 321-31. 2l6

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany distinction arose between those principalities which maintained the old order and those two, namely Austria and Prussia, which were steadily moving towards the status of great powers. In Prussia the older kind of government by the estates, or by the prince in dependence on the estates, was replaced by the new European style of central government with its state officials and commissioners, dependent only on the particular commission of the prince. At first they were employed to attend to the new administration of the army and its upkeep. From the administration of army taxes there developed, with a more general system of commissioners, an organization capable of running the entire welfare and economic policy of the monarchy. Under Frederick William I this produced a civil service that was dependent solely on the King. The supreme central administrative body was the General Directorate, set up in 1723; this carried out, on strict instructions from the King, the chief tasks of general administration, the implementation offinancialand internal policy. Cabinet government in Prussia developed under Frederick William I in the form of extreme authoritarian rule by the monarch himself. The King governed by way of cabinet orders, brief written instructions which were prepared by a secretary after he had received verbal directions from the King. The King supervised and inspected the bureaucracy of the new chambers for war and domains, as well as the officer corps, receiving constant reports and carrying out personal tours and reviews. The older governmental and administrative organization of the originally independent territories, now provinces of the composite state, remained in being, but was largely confined to the legal sphere. It was not eliminated or suppressed by the King's authority, but deprived of its functions. The ever increasing tasks arising from the needs of the armed forces and the economy fell exclusively upon the new royal administration; this work was carried out in the provinces by bodies which were responsible to the central administration. At the end of our period, because of a weakening of royal power, the bureaucracy gained a certain independence and self-sufficiency; this happened after the reign of Frederick the Great.25 In Prussia too the law wasfinallyreformed under the guidance of the monarch in conformity with the principle of natural law and Enlightenment ideas. Judicial organization and court procedure were improved; judges ceased to be either partly or wholly the servants of the estates, becoming instead servants of the King. A comprehensive legal code, the Allgemeines Landrecht was drawn up at Frederick's behest by enlightened civil servants and came into force in 1794. In Austria there had been armed conflict between the territorial ruler 25

H. Rosenberg, Bureaucracy, Aristocracy

and Autocracy.

The Prussian Experience

1660-1815,

Cambridge, Mass. 1958, pp. i75ff. Ch. VIII is entitled 'The Emancipation of Monarchical Autocracy'. 217

The constitutional development of the early modern state and the estates in the age of the Counter-Reformation and the Thirty Years War.26 Here the victory of Catholicism meant victory for the principle of monarchy, though the estates retained a good measure of administrative authority. The lower levels of military and fiscal administration remained in the hands of colleges of the estates, which assessed and disposed of contributions. The Privy Council, as an organ of the entire state, advised the monarch, though it did not acquire afixedform as an official state body. Within the Privy Council - and before long in the inner circle of the Privy Conference - the head of the Austrian court chancery had a special role on account of his expertise. He conducted the prince's foreign policy and was in charge of legal matters and internal affairs. In the second half of the eighteenth century there was a strong trend towards a provincial administration along the lines of the Prussian chambers for war and domains; as a result, the prince was able to supervise the whole field of taxation, but the collection of taxes remained in the hands of the estates. It was these reforms alone, instituted under Maria Theresa on the Prussian model, that broke the power of the estates and assured the prince of absolute power in the various areas of the state. In this way Austria attained the same degree of monarchical government as had developed in the other advanced states of Europe. The other principalities of the Empire either evolved absolutist constitutions or remained in the traditional corporative mould. However, the development by no means always followed a straight course. Just as in other European countries - in Sweden, for example - periods of absolutism alternated with periods in which the estates held power, so we find similar shifts in the German principalities. The great example for all was the France of Louis XIV. Bavaria has often been cited as a state that had an absolutist regime, the Elector having to a great extent eliminated the influence of the estates. This is an exaggeration. Recent research shows that the committee of the territorial estates, that is the permanent deputies of the territorial assembly, assumed control in the second half of the eighteenth century when the Elector's personal rule proved ineffective; it asserted itself over the state bureaucracy and represented the interests of the whole country.27 Saxony, Wiirttemberg, Mecklenburg and Hanover are examples of states in which the princes were kept in check by the territorial estates and their assemblies. The patrician estates of Wiirttemberg, after the treaty of Tubingen (1514), had laid down the extent of the duke's authority in a basic 26

27

E. C. Hellbling, Osterreichische Verfassungs- und Verrvaltungsgeschichte, Vienna 1956; O. Stolz, Grundriss der osterreichischen Verfassungs- und Verwaltungsgeschichte, Innsbruck 1951; K. Lechner, 'Osterreich' in G. W. Sante (ed.), Geschichte der deutschen Lander, * Territorien-Ploetz\ Wiirzburg 1964, p p . 6i9ff. K. O. Freiherr von Aretin, * Die bayerische Landschaftsverordnung 1714-1777' in D . Gerhard, ed., Stdndische Vertretungen in Europa im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, Gottingen 1969, pp. 2o8ff. 2l8

The constitutional situation of monarchy in Germany law and vindicated the right of the territorial assembly to vote taxes and to decide upon questions of inheritance, declarations of war and terms of peace. Ducal criminal justice had to be administered according to the law of the land. These restrictions of the ruler's authority could not always be maintained in Wiirttemberg during the absolutist period; nevertheless, the duke was compelled by the Aulic Council, after a legal battle, to uphold the old constitution. In Mecklenburg the fiscal authority of the duke was restricted by the nobles. In 1755, after an attempt had been made to introduce absolute rule, the right of the estates to participate in all legal andfiscalaffairs was established, thanks to the intervention of the Emperor; such participation continued until 1918, but it succeeded in making the duchy the most reactionary state in Germany. Hanover went through a period of absolutism in the seventeenth century, but later an aristocratic regime developed out of the older constitution, in which the estates played a dominant role and which limited the authority of the duke or elector. In the eighteenth century all governmental posts were filled by members of the higher nobility or the bureaucratic middle class. Although in the sixteenth century the estates in most of the German territories claimed the right, vis-a-vis the ruler, to a voice in all matters' upon which the weal or woe of the land depended' (to use the formulation adopted at a Brandenburg assembly in the mid sixteenth century), the Peace of Westphalia gave the imperial estates, that is the princes of the Empire, the jus belli ac pads; with this went the right to ally themselves with whom they pleased.28 The princes excluded the territorial estates from participation in foreign policy. True, imperial law prohibited alliances between the imperial estates and an external power against Emperor and Empire, but in practice many treaties were concluded by the petty German kings with France, Sweden and other powers against the Emperor, the Empire, or other princes of the Empire. The development of the early modern state in Europe is an essential part of the constitutional history of early modern times. This early modern state was an artificial creation; it was produced in the first place by the discipline imposed by monarchical authority, but it owed much, at various times and in various places, to the powerful participation of representative elements. I have been concerned in my analysis with the part played by monarchy and with its position in constitutional history. Both the instinct for power and the concern for the common good played their part in bringing about this position - but in highly varying proportions. The tasks which had to be performed, and which in the end gave rise to the modern state, arose from the new problems posed by the 'progressive widening of social 28

E.-W. Bockenforde,' Der Westfalische Frieden und das Biindnisrecht der Reichsstande \ Der Staat 8 (1969). 219

The constitutional development of the early modern state circles, the creation of ever larger units', 29 from the increasing density of communication and the techniques which it called for. The excessive growth of feudal forms had to be cut back, since these were no longer adequate to the needs of a changing society; at the same time it was necessary to go beyond the new constitutional possibilities inherent in the corporative state i.e. the development of representative institutions. The introduction of discipline clarified the vagueness that previously attached to all public functions, transforming the rights, liberties and privileges of the estates in accordance with the functions that the modern state had to perform. The thorough-going educational and social streamlining and the concentration of these functions represented an adaptation of government to the growth in population and to changes in society and the economy. While the constitution of the German Empire safeguarded the feudal principle of the old liberty, the privileges of the estates, the common trend in Europe was towards the formation of unified states, towards internal sovereignty and state control over all areas of life. It was in the passage from feudal, corporative liberties, regionally and locally secured, to the concentration of power at the centre that the continental state of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries took shape. Today we try to characterize it by terms like absolutism, bureaucracy, militarism and mercantilism. The monarchy of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation exemplifies the development of a political structure which did not and could not undergo this process of modernization, ecclesiastical and secular, military and civil, economic and intellectual. On the continent of Europe, the Empire remained an archaic form of life amid general political rejuvenation; its structure was in no way affected by the external political situation, by the European state system with its rivalries and competing interests. The monarchy of the Empire was outplayed and finally brought to extinction by those European powers which were able to develop into modern monarchies by means of regular taxes, efficient armies, effective police, authoritative courts of law, and well organized central administrations. Two of these powers lay within the boundaries of the Empire. 29

P. Sander, Feudalstaat und biirgerliche Verfassung, Berlin 1906, pp. 656*". Sander discusses an important topic in modern constitutional history which is connected with social history.

220

13

Army organization in the German territories from 1500 to 1800 No one in Germany has so far written a comprehensive study of the relation between political and military organization from the standpoint of constitutional history. Attention was drawn to the close connections between army organization and the life of nations by the soldiers Friedrich von der Decken and Max Jahns. Then, some sixty years ago, the constitutional historian Otto Hintze produced his classic outline of the subject, setting it in the context of world history. Before the second world war his pupil Fritz Hartung posed the question anew and provided an answer based on the overwhelming political and military experiences of the preceding generation.1 The present study owes much to these models, though its scope is altogether more modest. It seeks only to give a comparative account of what was taking place in the German territories in modern times up to the French Revolution. Hence no regard will be paid to the military organization of the Holy Roman Empire, the imperial circles, the imperial cities, or the imperial knights. As the territories moved towards statehood, an important role was played in the process not only by the courts of law and the political and ecclesiastical administration, but also by the organization of defence. The role of defence has been somewhat neglected in comparative surveys. The fact is that in the sixteenth century the princes of Germany were not preoccupied solely with justice and religion. They were greatly concerned 1

F. von der Decken's Betrachtungen iiber das Verhdltnis des Kriegsstandes of 1800, dedicated to

Scharnhorst, have been unjustly forgotten. See the fundamental lectures of O. Hintze (1906) 'Military Organization and the Organization of the State', in F. Gilbert (ed.) The Historical Essays of Otto Hintze, cit. pp. 178-215, and of F. Hartung, ' Staatsverfassung und Heeresverfassung', (1936), in his Gesammelte Abhandlungen, cit. pp. 28-40. Short comprehensive accounts of German military history are G. von Below, 'Das deutsche Heerwesen in alter und neuer Zeit', Internationale Monatsschrift fur Wissenschaft 9 (1914) cols 329—62, and H. Aubin, Wehrkraft, Wehrverfassung und Wehrmacht in der deutschen Geschichte, (jfahresbericht der Schlesischen Gesellschaft fur vaterldndische

Cultur 109, 1936). More extensive, especially on legal aspects, are the work by E. R. Huber, Heer und Staat in der deutschen Geschichte, Hamburg 1938, and the collection edited by K. Linnebach, Deutsche Heeresgeschichte, Hamburg 1935. The last two works cited list much of the military literature, in particular accounts of territorial military history. Some of the source material is collected by E. von Frauenholz (ed.), Entwicklungsgeschichte des deutschen Heerwesens, 5 vols, Munich

1935-41. For a more recent study see C. H. Hermann, Deutsche Milita'rgeschichte, Frankfurt 1966, 1968.

2

221

The constitutional development of the early modern state too, even if to a lesser extent, with providing peace and protection for their lands and subjects. Gradually this became their predominant concern. The idea of maintaining a standing army came to exert a decisive influence on the shaping of the state as a whole. It is usually only at this point that the constitutional historian begins to take an interest in matters of defence. Attention is then directed to the hiring of mercenaries and the development of permanent armed forces. Most of the historian's interest is claimed by the military and political events within the system of European states and what resulted from them - the military instrument of the great powers in the absolutist and pre-absolutist era. How defence institutions emerged and evolved within the territories remains a matter of secondary interest. In what follows we shall examine these institutions, which militarily may have been far from perfect, but constitutionally were of considerable importance. Less attention will be paid to the military state with its professional army, which likewise failed to attain full development in most of the territories. Treating military organization in the territories of Germany as a whole, we may distinguish three periods of development, corresponding broadly to periods of general constitutional development. The first, dominated by various forms of regional territorial defence, lasts until about the middle of the seventeenth century. This was a period of collaboration between the estates and princes. Something of a break came around 1585, when the supreme military organ of the Empire, the Deputationstag in Frankfurt, was paralysed during the religious troubles, and it became obvious that the territories were utterly defenceless. Up to then the chief military institutions within the territories were the traditional levies. From about 1585 a new system of selective recruitment began to take shape, and peacetime exercises in local defence (Landrettung) were conducted. The law of the frontier played an important part in the shaping of military institutions, affecting the way in which certain defensive organizations were formed and adapted during the transition from one phase to the next. The second period was one in which the standing army existed side by side with the militia; this lasted from the end of the Thirty Years' War until Napoleonic times. The early form of absolutism within the states of the Empire established a legal basis for their defence organization in paragraph 180 of the imperial recess of 1654 and the electoral capitulation of 1658. Freeholders, subjects and burgesses were obliged to 'man and maintain the necessary fortresses, military sites and garrisons belonging to one or other of the estates of the Empire, and obediently to come to the aid of their princes, rulers and overlords'.2 This was in part a legitimation, in part a reasoned justification, 2

K. Zeumer, Quellensammlung zur Geschichte der deutschen Reichsverfassung in Mittelalter Neuzeit, Tubingen 2 i<)i3, 460, jfiingster Reichsabschied §180.

222

und

Army organization in the German territories, 1500—1800 for the fiscal sovereignty of the territorial princes in matters of defence (for fortresses and 'permanent garrisons'), a sovereignty which was later to be extended. Both de jure and de facto paragraph 180 did more to fragment than to increase the military strength of the Empire. The territories, especially the larger territories, used xhtirjus armorum, obtained under the Peace of Westphalia, to build up mercenary armies or to improve the quality of selectively recruited local troops. In the permanently armed principalities, with the exception of Prussia after 1713, these local troops existed side by side with the supra-regional miles perpetuus employed in external wars. They were used only in an auxiliary role as territorial militias for regional defence, and in wartime they served as a pool of recruits for the standing army. The first half of the nineteenth century saw the start of a third period of military organization, that of the national standing army based on universal conscription along Prussian lines. However, we shall not be concerned with this last period. Otto Hintze stated, without sensing any contradiction, that the beginnings of modern military organization took place outside the state constitution.3 This holds good if one starts from the wars among the great powers of Europe and considers only the system of recruitment by private enterprise in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; this was in the main an activity in which neither the prince nor the state took part. If, on the other hand, one starts from the provincial defence systems of these same powers - or even of the German territories, about which we have been increasingly well informed by research into provincial history over the past half-century - it can be shown that even in the first of our periods there was a close link between the political community and the organization of defence.4 The legal foundation for local defence was the communal duty to resist attack from outside, together with the newly reinforced jus sequelae, the obligation laid upon every subject to 'follow and serve in campaigns and expeditions'. In addition there was the continued duty of the knights to follow their feudal lords; this might be invoked for military purposes. Finally, there were the traditional duties of the subjects - to provide waggons for moving weapons, to build palisades and fortifications, and to keep and maintain weapons. 3 4

Gesammelte Abhandlungen 2 i, p. 68. Hans Delbriick, Geschichte der Kriegskunst im Rahmen der politischen Geschichte IV, Berlin 1920, p. 276, wrote: ' From the Hussite wars to the Thirty Years War, one may say, that is for over two hundred years, there is a contradiction between theory and practice in German military organization. In theory wars were conducted on a basis of feudal service, citizens' levies, and militia; in practice they were fought by mercenaries.' This general judgment must be modified with regard to the territories which were under threat until 1590, and it ignores the reality of the Defensionswerke after 1590. It would be impossible here to cite even a fraction of the source material that has been published, and so I will confine myself to a few illustrative examples.

223

The constitutional development of the early modern state Everywhere in the territories - whether in Bavaria,5 Wiirttemberg,6 JiilichBerg, Saxony, Hesse, Brandenburg or Holstein-Gottorp - military summonses were addressed to all vassals and subjects ' of whatsoever estate they be'. By these summonses, as well as by police and provincial ordinances, burghers and country-dwellers were repeatedly exhorted to keep ' armour, arquebuses and weapons in good order, and to be prepared for defence at all times'. By a procedure which is still not properly understood, the ruler contrived to convert the townsmen's civic duty to maintain arms and perform military service into an obligation due to himself, while in the country districts he maintained and enlarged his claim to military aid in times of emergency in repeated edicts and call-outs. Levies were demanded mainly on the basis of the 'house' and the number of hearths, that is of land-holdings in town and country; a system of capitation was also used in part, the demand increasing between the first and fifth levies from every thirtieth to every second man. The defence constitutions were probably the first stage in the conversion of communal duties into rights pertaining to the ruler - who admittedly did not always enforce them. This was part of the process which shaped the territorial state. Hans Fehr gives three distinct reasons for the effort to reorganize the 'popular armies'. Sociologically, he says, this was a period in which the old feudal duties of vassals and ministeriales were disappearing; the nobles, having partly degenerated into a class of rapacious exploiters and having been partly reduced to a state of economic weakness, were slow to respond to the levies or generally disobedient, preferring to take service with other rulers. Militarily, it was a period of tactical change, in which the infantry was gaining ascendancy over the cavalry, as can be seen from the changed tactics of the Swiss and the Landsknechte. Constitutionally and politically it was a period in which the princes were forced to rely on taxes voted by the estates and incapable of paying expensive mercenary troops; hence they were compelled by their financial situation to revive the feudal obligation of their subjects to provide them with military aid. These conditions prevailed everywhere, at least throughout the sixteenth century; and yet in the different territories they led, despite the often identical wording of the local ordinances, to widely differing solutions to the problem of how to revive the old levies. A model can be more easily copied on paper 5

6

H. Fehr, 'Das Waffenrecht der Bauern im Mittelalter. Teil 2', Zeitschriftfur Rechtsgeschichte G. A. 38 (1917) 1-114, describes the military organization of Bavaria and the Palatine Electorate in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. There was a close connection between rights of recruitment and rights of jurisdiction. F. Ernst, Eberhard im Bart, Stuttgart 1933, pp. 79ff. From 1481 in Wiirttemberg suitable subjects were selected, armed and trained. They formed the nucleus of the army of the Swabian League. The country had to provide new waggons and weapons etc. Clearly everything depended on the energetic personality of the ruler. 224

Army organization in the German territories, 1500—1800 than in reality, as we learn when we examine yet another factor in the formation of the state which has been singled out for special attention, viz. the development of administrative organs. In Saxony, where there was a considerable concentration of power, the princes divided their territory into separate defence districts in the first half of the century and appointed district captains who were charged with the levying of troops to defend the country in an emergency. In 1548 the elector Maurice of Saxony laid special emphasis, when appointing his officials, on their political and military tasks and the authority vested in them. The division of the territory into districts and Amter (literally' offices') was made primarily with military considerations in mind and was closely linked with policing and peacekeeping purposes.7 Within the framework of this new political and administrative system, which was subsequently imitated by other territories, Saxony sought a permanent solution to the problem of regional defence by using her own resources. Ludwig Dehio,8 referring to various princes, including Maurice of Saxony and Philip of Hesse, spoke of a revolutionary vein in Protestantism and claimed that this manifested itself in an energetic foreign policy, concomitant military strength, and the strong fiscal administration necessary for the raising and upkeep of costly mercenary armies. I am not entirely convinced that there was a militaristic and expansionist element in Protestantism. Philip of Hesse was after all a very warlike prince even before his change of religious allegiance, and the majority of Protestant rulers after 1550 were not notably warlike. However, it remains a fact of some importance in the present context that the Protestant side was characterized by a concern for territorial fortresses, well stocked arsenals and full treasuries, and that these means enabled them to achieve certain temporary military ends, even if these were of a defensive character. Troops were enlisted by officials acting as commissioners of the territorial ruler and parades were held. This demonstrates in a general way that the 7

R. Kotzschke,' Landesverwaltungsreform im Kurstaat Sachsen 1547/1548', Zeitschrift des Vereins fur thiiringische Geschichte 42 (1940) rightly stresses the mutual influence of foreign policy and military organization. The instructions regulated not only the garrisoning of fortresses and the organisation of the feudal cavalry but initiated a comprehensive description of the country in the form of registers {Amtserbbiicher) which also served as the basis of military statistics. On another territorial state we are well informed by G. Paetel, Die Organisation des hessischen Heeres unter Philipp

8

dem Grossmiitigen, Berlin 1897. Landgrave Philip was one of the 'chief warlords of his age', on account of both the strength of his armies and his financial resources. The Brunswick campaign of 1545 was a unique example of military organization, with almost 7,000 men under arms from the towns and the countryside. Otherwise the use of hired troops predominated. Their captains were closely connected with the landgrave, being servants kept on half pay {wartgeld). On Thuringia cf. W. Schmidt-Ewald, 'Das Landesaufgebot im westlichen Thiiringen vom 15. bis zum 17. Jahrhundert', Zeitschrift des Vereins fur thiiringische Geschichte NF 28 (1928) 6-58. 'Urn den deutschen Militarismus', HZ 180 (1955) 50. On this whole question see H. Holborn, ' Machtpolitik und lutherische Sozialethik', Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte 57 (1966) 23-32. 225

The constitutional development of the early modern state military preparedness of the population left much to be desired. Neither among the town-dwellers nor among the feudal cavalry was there any obvious readiness for war. As for the peasants, they were hardly likely, after the atrocious massacres of the Peasants' War of 1525, to show any enthusiasm for military service. The warlike spirit was largely dissipated, and the princes could scarcely make shift to revive it. In the event of a foreign war an army had to be hired for the duration of the campaign through agreements with mercenary colonels and captains. These professional soldiers, however, had no part in the inadequate measures for regional defence. Only in the exposed frontier regions of the Empire do we find more solid military institutions. The Austrian lands threatened by the Turks acquired some measure of military organization as early as 1470, thanks to the initiative of the estates. The military reorganization in the fifteenth century, precipitated by the Hussite wars, affected not only the mercenary armies (as is always emphasized), but the local levies too. The territorial assemblies of the inner provinces of Austria during this period resolved upon measures designed to secure the frontiers permanently against attack; these were genuine moves for territorial defence. From the territorial assembly a field captain was chosen to head the organization; the territory was divided into military districts known as Viertel (literally 'quarters'); 9 and a defence tax was raised by the estates. In order to protect themselves, the estates pressed for better organization of the traditional levy, their own defence force which was kept in constant readiness.1 ° They sought a military integration of all the inner Austrian lands; this came about in 1508 and was given permanent form in the famous Innsbrucker Libell of 1518. In the south-east of the Empire the territorial estates maintained their own troops throughout the sixteenth century; these comprised the organized territorial levies and mercenaries. The creation of the important military frontier11 from 1546 onwards by the Styrian captain Hans Ungnad, and the establishment in 1577—8 of the inner Austrian 'Court War Council' at Graz, copied from the Viennese model of 1556, were both due to the initiative of the estates. The members of the Council were proposed by the estates for nomination by the archduke and placed under the authority of the estates and the territorial prince. However, in consequence of the growing confessional 9 10

11

See Johannes Schultze, 'Die Stadtviertel', Blatter fiir deutsche Landesgeschichte 92 (1956) 18-39. The Styrians were in the lead. See the documented account of A. Mell, Grundriss der Verfassungsund Verwaltungsgeschichte des Landes Steiermark, Graz 1929, pp. 250-66, 429-31, 504-12. Unfortunately, of the 'oldest Styrian documents, 1396-1519' only parts I and II (up to 1493 (1953-8) are available. The peasant soldiers of the border area have been extensively discussed. See the bibliography in R. von Schumacher, 'Das Schrifttum iiber die osterreichische Militargrenze', Deutsches Archivfur Landes- und Volksforschung 6 (1942) 207-40. 226

Army organization in the German territories, 1500-1800 tension between the territory and its rulers the estates lost interest in immediate military preparedness. The territorial levies of foot and horse were allowed to lapse. Nonetheless, the estates retained their rights, such as that of nominating a territorial commissioner to act on their behalf as an intermediary between the region and the military. At an early stage the Austrian princes opposed the predominantly corporate organization of regional defence. Hence, it was not so much for military reasons that Ferdinand I, in his proposition to the Graz assembly in 1528, demanded aid in 'money, not men', in order to be able to take on mercenaries who would be under his sole command. What was begun in the south-east of the Empire under the Ottoman threat with the defence schemes of Inner Austria, Tyrol and Vorarlberg was repeated and improved upon in the west when the frontier was in danger during the numerous armed conflicts between, first, France and Germany and, later, Spain and the Netherlands. As early as 1507 the Austrian estates of the Breisgau and Alsace put before Maximilian I a scheme for 'defence and counter-attack' in which the nobles, ecclesiastical foundations, town and rural communities made reports on their captains who were in command of the levy.12 Whenever the danger of war became acute, the 'land scheme' (Landsordnung) was renewed, though it was probably not put into effect. A fund was available, and from this, for instance, military scouts were paid in 1551. Regional defence associations (the so-called Landrettungen, literally land-rescues') for the whole of Alsace were later agreed by the imperial estates. An important measure was the regional defence treaty concluded in 1572 between Upper and Lower Alsace, in which the imperial estates undertook to train their subjects in shooting, to organize them in companies, and to nominate military leaders in peacetime, so as to have a defence force ready at once in an emergency. Through Austrian mediation the idea of enrolling and training local men was taken up here. This was probably done with the help of that indefatigable advocate of local military forces, Lazarus von Schwendi (1522-84). He had been the imperial commander in Hungary, had created the German military and disciplinary laws at the imperial diet of Speyer in 1570, and propagated Machiavelli's ideas on defence in the Empire and its territories.13 This Alsatian defence association was directed solely to preventing the crossing and invading of the territory by foreign armies through being itself prepared for war. This was a limited aim. Admittedly some of the essential features of later defence schemes were missing - the 12

13

O. Stolz, 'Die Landsrettungen fur Oberelsass und Breisgau aus dem 16. Jahrhundert', ElsassLothringisches jfahrbuch 20 (1942). The principal memoranda are printed by E. von Frauenholz (ed.), Lazarus von Schwendi, der erste deutsche Verkiinder der allgemeinen Wehrpflicht, Hamburg 1939.

227

The constitutional development of the early modern state principle of strict troop selection and prescriptions for instruction in drill. The local defence agreement was renewed, but from 1585 it was not continued permanently because the Protestant estates of the Empire distrusted the Catholic archduke. In the west, as in the south-east, the development of military power was paralysed by confessional suspicion. At the same time the religious situation produced new impulses for extending the early forms of territorial defence. This is the beginning of the second phase of the first period. In the 1580s, Johann Casimir of the Palatinate, the German commander in the Huguenot wars, drew upon his knowledge of French regional defence14 in order to launch a scheme of local defence when he was the administrative head of the Electoral Palatinate. The universal hatred of the mercenary soldiers, notorious for their 'thirty pestilential customs', led him and his military adviser, Fabian von Dohna, to try to improve and systematize the military preparedness of the province. Their aim was to be able 'to plough with their own oxen'.15 In 1594 the Convention of Heilbronn (representing the Protestant territories of the Electoral Palatinate, Wiirttemberg, Palatinate-Zweibriicken, Ansbach and Baden) resolved to set up a joint army recruited from among the subjects of its members. These were to be trained in weaponry. This aim was later adopted by the Evangelical Union. There were precise provisions for the selection of troops, exercises, drill, recruitment, equipment, military organization, and the appointment of officers. In the southeast of the Empire religious divisions within the territories led to the weakening of a system of defence that was largely controlled by the estates; the opposition of the Protestant estates was overcome, and this led to the rise of the hired armies under absolutist princes. In parts of the west, on the other hand, Calvinist rulers promoted the principle of regional territorial defence. Notable among the reformers were John VI of Nassau and his son John VII, the leaders of the correspondence of the Wetterau counts. Having witnessed the Dutch struggle for independence, they completed a military scheme which had first been initiated in the Palatinate but had failed.16 The frontier territories were constantly exposed to the passage of troops 14

15

16

See J. de Pablo, 'L'armee huguenote entre 1562-1573', Archivfur Refortnationsgeschichte 47 (1957) Heft 2. The Huguenot army was supplemented by conscription. After 1570 it became a standing army, in which one must distinguish between territorial units for regional defence and regular regiments for campaigns. The causes and aims are vividly described by O. Bezzel, Geschichte des kurpfdlzischen Heeres = Geschichte des bayerischen Heeres iv, Munich 1925-30. For a documented account see K. Wolf, Aufbau eines Volksheeres in den Gebieten der Wetterauer

Grafenkorrespondenz, Wiesbaden 1937, or 'Von der Einfuhrung der allgemeinen Wehrpflicht in Kurpfalz um 1600', Zeitschrift furdie Geschichte des Oberrheins 50 (1936) 638-704. On the two counts cf. K. Wolf, Nassauische Lebensbilder 1, Wiesbaden 1940, pp. 50-66, and 11 (1943), pp. 49-65 (with bibliographical references). 228

Army organization in the German territories, 1500-1800 of plundering mercenaries, against whom the military organization of the imperial circles could provide no defence whatever. The increasingly evident headway made by the Counter-Reformation was a direct cause of anxiety, and all Protestants were alarmed by the ignominious desertion in 1599 of the Rhenish regiments that had been recruited with such effort and at such expense to deal with the Spaniards. For all these reasons the selected troops of Nassau and the Palatinate, who acquitted themselves with credit, became a model to be admired. The safeguarding of the Reformed Faith in the Palatinate in 1592 was ascribed in no small measure to the presence of a thousand foot and horse from the selectively recruited Nassau troops,17 and their successful defensive operations elsewhere and their readiness for war could not fail to be appreciated. It had long been an element in the general European theory of defence that properly trained native troops, fighting for house and home and rewarded for their service by privileges, were more useful and efficient than the unreliable, mutinous and plundering mercenaries - who were also more expensive. This tiew now gained general currency. Suddenly, around 1600, experiments on the Nassau model began to be made in almost all parts of Germany.18 John VII of Nassau personally campaigned for his ideas in Kassel, Wolfenbiittel, Berlin and Dresden. In the same year the new local defence schemes took shape in Hesse, Brunswick, Baden, Ansbach, and the lands of the Teutonic Order. Soon other territories joined in - Brandenburg, Saxony, and the principalities of Silesia. It was also in 1600 that duke Maximilian I of Bavaria issued a general mandate for territorial defence, citing the example of the Palatinate; five years earlier he had initiated the new scheme by ordering a general enlistment of all his subjects and the establishment of defence rolls (Wehrstammrollen). Indicative of the new spirit in Bavaria is the fact that the muster rolls of the old levy in the Bavarian state archive stop at the year 1595. The troops of the territorial companies or Auswahlfdhnlein 17

18

See K. Wolf, 'Die Sicherung des reformierten Bekenntnisses in der Kurpfalz', Zeitschrift fur die Geschichte des Oberrheins 48 (1934) 3846°. The contemporary defence ordinances and memoranda, together with many administrative documents are printed by E. von Frauenholz, Die Landesdefension in der Zeit des Dreissigjdhrigen Krieges = Entwicklungsgeschichte des deutschen Heerwesens in, 2 (1939), together with a general introduction and brief bibliography. A better summary of the copious literature is given by A. Lampe, Der Milizgedanke und seine Durchfuhrung in Brandenburg-Preussen vom Ausgang des 16. Jahrhunderts bis zur Heeresreform nach 1807 (manuscript dissertation, Free University of Berlin, 1951), II-XVI. Lampe gives a useful review of German defence as a whole, but does not take into account the important work of K. Wolf or the very informative accounts of the proceedings of the representative assemblies of Wiirttemberg, Jiilich-Berg, etc. For a critical view of the work of Frauenholz cf. S. A. Kaehler, Gottingische Gelehrte Anzeigen 203 (1941) 508-21, who gives a basic assessment of defence organization, though he undervalues the practical effect. A good modern account of troop selection in the electorate of Mainz is given by F. P. Kahlenberg, Kurmainzische Verteidigungseinrichtungen und Baugeschichte der Festung Mainz im 17. und 18. jfahrhundert, Mainz 1963. 229

The constitutional development of the early modern state (literally 'selected colours') distinguished themselves at the occupation of Donauworth in 1607. Against the Swedes in 1632 they did not live up to the hopes that were placed in them, though they were not a complete failure. As sober an observer as Karl Staudinger wonders whether this was not perhaps due to ' shortcomings in organization, in particular the lack of good officers'.19 Thus, in the last decade of the sixteenth century a military elite, the so-called Ausschuss (literally ' selection'), organized for war and trained by drill instructors, took its place beside the untrained general levy. The first modern drill-manuals for the instruction of native troops appeared in Nassau {John VIPs Waffenhandlung in Rohren, Musketen und Spiessen, printed in 1607) a n ^ later in the Palatinate (Trillerey oder exercitia militaria Friderici IV, 1594). These were at once adopted for training mercenary troops under the army reform of the princes of Orange-Nassau, which played such a decisive part in the evolution of the modern army. The fighting potential of the territorial troops was supported by the repair of old fortresses, and new fortresses and fortified positions were built on the Dutch model. Examples are Hanau, begun in 1597, Mannheim, proposed by John VI in 1592 and begun in 1606, Siegen, Dillenburg, Liebenscheid, Heidelberg, Frankenthal, Rheinfels, Hohenstein, Kassel and others. Various boundary defences and field fortifications were employed as local defensive positions, and natural obstacles were strengthened. Territorial defence thus involved collaboration between nature, artifice and man. The man who initiated it all, John VII, emphasized that it was designed for 'defence against sudden and unforeseen attack, not for open war', adding:' for in open war one cannot dispense with the soldiers and the army; these must do the best part, and subjects cannot very well be used for this kind of warfare'.20 The princes tried also - entirely in vain - to revive the feudal cavalry and make it once more a genuine instrument of war, despite the fact that earlier, from the mid sixteenth century onwards, both princes and nobles had demanded the substitution of monetary payments for personal military 19

20

21

Geschichte des Bayerischen Heeres I, Munich 1901, p. 113, n. 1. This work gives the best account of Bavarian defence from 1590 to 1651 (pp. 56-113), which was well organized. Frauenholz, op. cit., p. 53. For a recent examination of the important memorandum on defence from the years 1594-5 see G. Oestreich, Geist und Gestalt des fruhmodernen Staates, Berlin 1969, PP- 3H-55In 1553 the Elector August of Saxony demanded 5 florins in lieu of horses. From this time on the question of money to provide horses is one of topical concern in the territorial assemblies. The Thirty Years War brought a big change with the superiority of the mercenary cavalry. In Thuringia the last recruitment of local horsemen took place in 1656. But nearly a century earlier Duke Julius of Brunswick was enquiring of various princes what was the proper sum to require from the knights in lieu of personal service. In Saxony, Wiirttemberg and elsewhere, vassals could choose between personal service and payment. In his Political Testament of 1556 Melchior von Osse warns against ' giving away' domains, because the service of the knights is not worth the taxes lost with the lands. 230

Army organization in the German territories, 1500—1800 The system of selective recruitment brought about a close and enduring contact between the military and the ruler's government and administrative apparatus, which was still partly influenced by the estates. The highest official bodies, such as the Privy Council, the War Council22 or War Chancery, and the Court or Office Chamber, were charged with financing the army and supervising the construction of fortresses and arsenals. They also had to establish a treasury (aerarium) and to supply and even standardize weapons and dress. At this period we come across the first hire-purchase contract for arms and uniforms entered into by the state. The inferior authorities, the district governors (Amtmdnner and Pfleger) and rural magistrates, were employed as commanders of the levies; some already had military experience, while others had to undergo training. A new link between the civil officials and the privileged military class seems to have arisen shortly before the Thirty Years' War. In peacetime the selected troops enjoyed economic privileges, fiscal exemptions and civic honours. The obligation to serve with the selected troops was accompanied by marked social distinctions and already subject to economic conditions. To call it 'national service', as Frauenholz and others do, is to make a fundamental mistake. This point has been made forcefully by S. A. Kaehler, who maintains that ' it is contrary to all sense of history to treat a notion like "national service" as though it were applicable to all periods and had a constant meaning in the history of a nation'. The old controversy 'militia versus standing army' has no meaning in the context of the local defence schemes of 1600 and thereabouts, since the standing army did not yet exist. The scheme of selective recruitment was appropriate to the age. It had the limited political aim of providing defence for territorial possessions and confessional freedom. It was in keeping with military ideas regarding the technical and tactical priority of defence, the new art of fortification, and the theory that battle was to be avoided. It was consonant with the limited economic resources of the territories, which were financially and fiscally undeveloped, and their corporate institutions. It also reflected the Neostoic ideology and the duty of self-defence, which was incumbent upon the ruler and the ruled and enjoined by biblical authority and natural law. Finally it was in keeping with the political position of the princes, who were seeking accommodation and understanding with their estates and subjects. Admittedly the territorial estates were putting up growing resistance to the intrusion of new ideas from western Europe into foreign and defence policy. They were in favour of unconditional neutrality and opposed to a build-up of military strength. They favoured recruitment of subjects with military experience for short-term engagements; these 'could later be 22

War councils were founded in Vienna in 1556, in Graz in 1578, in Munich in 1583, in Liineburg in 1618, in Kassel in 1618, and in Berlin in 1630. 231

The constitutional development of the early modern state released when the state of affairs permitted', as the Wiirttemberg estates said in 1593.23 They wanted to rely on the old levies and even to replace the personal feudal obligation to do military service (such as that of the knights and burgesses of Cleves and Mark) by the recruitment of troops over whom they would have direct control. They were opposed to the 'new arming of subjects', that is the modern system of selective recruitment, not only because they feared a growth in princely power and an increase in the financial burden borne by themselves, but also because they were apprehensive of fresh uprisings among the peasants. It was only at a late stage that they came to advocate a rural militia, and then because they detested even more the thought of professional troops under the control of the princes. Wherever an energetic lead was given by the prince, real progress was made with the local schemes of defence. This is attested by the reports of drill instructors brought in from the Netherlands on the state of army drill in the period before the great war; these reports are preserved in many territories and relate not only to the Palatinate and Nassau, but also to Baden, Wiirttemberg, Hesse, Brunswick, Bavaria, Saxony and Holstein-Gottorp. However, such schemes were not adopted in the lands east of the Elbe, either in ducal Prussia or electoral Brandenburg. Not only the territorial estates, but the social conditions created by the local system of land tenure, proved more powerful than the progressive advisers of the princes. The keenest champion of local defence in Brandenburg, Abraham von Dohna, took these conditions into account when he wrote in his Entwurf von 1614: 'And hence it seems inadvisable to put into their [i.e. the peasants'] hands means which they might abuse in order to evade their obligation of service and forget their duty of obedience.'24 John VII of Nassau had laid it down as a necessary condition for schemes of local defence that the government should not have soured relations with its subjects, and this condition was not fulfilled in Brandenburg. 23

24

Wiirttembergische Landtagsakten, 2. Reihe, 1: 1593-1598 (1910) 73. Typical of the struggle against the estates to achieve princely sovereignty in defence matters is the commentary of Mattheus Enzlin in 1606 on the treaty of Tubingen of 1514, ibid. 2. Reihe, 2 1598-1608 (1911) 5138". and 5 6 3 ^ See W. Grube, Der Stuttgarter Landtag i^j-igsj, Stuttgart 1957. Frauenholz, op. cit., i n , 2, p. 101. T h e last partial account of the papers of the Brandenburg estates is given by H . Croon, Die kurmdrkischen Landstdnde 1571-1616, Berlin 1938, pp. i54ff. and i66ff., and H . Helfritz, Geschichte der preussischen Heeresverwaltung, Berlin 1938. Helfritz's assessment is too positive. Prussian defence organization has been treated a number of times (by Krollman, Zimmermann, et al.) T h e fact that the new system of territorial defence was not p u t into effect in Electoral Brandenburg, Prussia, and Cleves seems to have affected the historical judgment on the organization of local militias in other territories, since Prussian military history is regarded as the model. T h e extent to which preconceived views on military and political matters narrow people's judgment is shown by a remark of the aristocratic and conservative Georg von Below. Having concluded, on the basis of his Landtagsakten von Jiilich-Berg 11: 756^-/5^9 (1907), pp. ioo2ff., that 'the uselessness of a military organization which relies solely on a militia made u p of peaceful citizens' had been fully proved, he says: * It is to be regretted that the politicians of the nineteenth century who were so indefatigable in the condemnation of standing armies did not spend their time studying these papers instead.' See n. 1. 232

Army organization in the German territories, 1500-1800 Time was needed for the ' continuous, ever-growing and ever-increasing schemes of local defence' to get properly under way. This time for peaceful growth was denied them by the outbreak of the Thirty Years War. The mercenary armies which the larger territories hired for limited service in foreign wars stood in the main outside the defence system which we have described. The thirty years of war waged on German soil could not fail to have a powerful effect on the structure of both the mercenary army and the locally selected troops. The long tradition that grew up consolidated the officer corps of the mercenary armies and fostered a martial spirit in even the most unruly soldiery, leading to a sense of professional solidarity. Subjected to strict discipline and exacting drill, and provided with good leadership, these professional soldiers proved themselves superior to the largely disorganized, insufficiently trained and badly led local regiments. Curiously, however, repeated but inadequate attempts were made to improve the organization of the locally selected forces in spite of their frequent failures. As a result, enlisted troops might be incorporated into the old regiments for stiffening, as happened in Austria, Bavaria and Hesse. At this period an institution was emerging which was to have an important influence on the military organization of the larger territories, as well as on that of the great European powers where it originated. This was the system of military commissioners. These representatives of the prince or the estates were charged with the upkeep, quartering and provisioning of local and foreign armies passing through their territory or stationed in it. They levied the necessary taxes or contributions and became important organs of the military administration at the regional and central levels.25 They supervised, controlled and directed the activities of the military entrepreneurs, who were themselves independent of the 'state'. The important question was whether these commissioners, who acted for both the prince and the estates, could be made instruments of monarchic rule, and if so, when. In education, moral energy and political vision these new officials were very often superior to the army officers. It is a well known fact that the colonels or captains of the Thirty Years' War were contractually empowered by the prince or the estates, by means of capitulations, to recruit regiments and companies at home and abroad, acting as independent entrepreneurs and operating on credit or with their own capital. The later standing army was anticipated by the practice of taking on a few commissioned and non-commissioned officers who were paid a retainer and formed, so to speak, the skeleton personnel of a mercenary army 25

On the organization of the commissariat see the fundamental study of Otto Hintze, 'The Commissary and his Significance in General Administrative History', in F. Gilbert (ed.) Historical Essays, cit. pp. 267-301. Also C. Schmitt, Die Diktatur, Munich 2io.28, ch. 2 ('Die Praxis der furstlichen Kommissare des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts'), and the recent account of the Brandenburg ' Kreiskommisar' by Johannes Schultze, Die Prignitz, Cologne 1956, pp. 222-8. 233

The constitutional development of the early modern state that might be formed when circumstances required it.26 At the end of our first period the initiative for the further development of military organization clearly passed out of the hands of the territorial estates into those of the princes. However, the princes did not gain complete control over defence; they lacked an 'undisputed and absolute 7'ws belli ac armorum\ such as Ferdinand III demanded in 1638 from the Bohemian estates, who had been recruiting their own armies as late as 1618. The great decisions had to wait until the second half of the century, when the western ideal of the political, economic and military state gained recognition, an ideal which in various forms and to differing degrees established itself in most of the important territories. The second period, that of early absolutism and of absolutism proper, in which the miles perpetuus predominated, brought still stronger contrasts between the territories. When it became clear that the population was insufficiently protected and the state inadequately armed, the future of the dualist state, in which power was shared by the ruler and the estates, was called into question. The estates became a drag on public welfare, while the princes, though undoubtedly motivated by selfishness, were a force for promoting the public interest. The small, but influential class of educated men in the Netherlands movement, the middle-class elements in government, the law and the universities, the new bureaucracy, and the military circles that favoured the necessary reforms - all these supported a moderate and enlightened monarchy which wished to create a more effective instrument of war. The middle class generally - as opposed to the civic patriciate of the assemblies, who were affiliated to the nobility - could not but be in favour of security and armed peace. The traditional system of defence no longer measured up to the new raison d'etat, which set its sights on self-assertion and intervention rather than simple defence. It was the building up of standing armies in the large and medium-sized states Austria, Brandenburg-Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, Brunswick-Liineburg, Hesse-Kassel and Hesse-Darmstadt, as well as such ecclesiastical principalities as Mainz, Cologne, Trier, Miinster, Wiirzburg and Salzburg - that essentially distinguished these from the more conservative territories. The 'armed' estates of the Empire stood in contrast to the 'unarmed' estates, which met their military obligations by paying the armed estates to supply contingents for them. The military organization of the Empire was fully developed only in the imperial territories in south-western Germany where there was extreme political fragmentation. Elsewhere it had little effect upon military developments inside the territories. The vital question was whether the decisiveness and ambition of the individual ruler were strong enough to overcome internal political difficulties, particularly opposition from his 26

On this cf. the basic work of Fritz Redlich, The German Military Enterpriser and his Work Force. A Study in European Economic and Social History (2 vols), Wiesbaden 1964-5.

234

Army organization in the German territories, 1500-1800 estates. The fate of the army continued for some time to be controlled by estate assemblies. About 1670 certain progressive states, both secular and ecclesiastical, such as Bavaria, Brandenburg and Cologne, endeavoured to secure an extension of paragraph 180 (which has already been mentioned) so as to establish in imperial law an enlargement of the fundamental and undeniable duty of all subjects to maintain the armed forces. The fact that they failed in their attempt proves how tenacious the opposition of the territorial estates was. If a prince failed to enforce his demands for military taxes, his state fell behind, was excluded from power politics, and came militarily to a standstill. The estates of Wiirttemberg and Mecklenburg, for instance, were able, by getting judgments in their favour from the Aulic Council, to prevent the development of an absolutist military organization, that is the creation of a supraregional standing army with policing duties of an anti-feudal character. In territories where a dualist regime survived, the estates retained a large measure of control over the commissariat, which had the important task of mediating between the general administration and the military. Such a situation obtained, for example, in Hanover and Jiilich-Berg. Here the commissioners were officially involved in raising and organizing the territorial regiments and companies of the local defence system which had been reconstituted after the Thirty Years' War. This system existed in nearly all the states of Germany side by side with the standing army and was known as the 'territorial militia'. For the idea of a national army not only continued to find expression in German writings for instance in Leibniz's Geschwinde Kriegsverfassung of 1688, and even in Frederick the Great's Antimachiavell of 1739 - but inspired widespread attempts to make it a reality. One well-known and successful example of compulsory military service was that instituted in the archbishopric of Miinster under Galen in the seventeenth century and renewed under Fiirstenberg in the eighteenth. Less successful, though well organized, was the defence scheme in Saxony from 1663 to 1709, later continued by the territorial district regiments (Landkreisregimenter). A famous example was the defence system of Schaumburg-Lippe under Count William, Scharnhorst's mentor and model. The various territories constantly influenced one another. In Bavaria after the Thirty Years' War the impulse came in the first place from 'the Palatinate and all neighbouring states' (1651), and later from Wiirttemberg, while the ecclesiastical principalities of Mainz and Cologne modelled themselves on the France of Louvois. The influence of the Swedish indelning is to be discerned in the north German territories of Miinster, Brunswick-Liineburg and Brandenburg-Prussia.27 The situation on the frontiers of the Empire continually stimulated fresh activity. The 27

See Gerhard Oestreich,' Curt Bertram von Pfuel', Forschungen zur brandenburgischen undpreussischen Geschichte 50 (1938) 201-49.

235

The constitutional development of the early modern state Turkish threat of 1663-4 finally induced Bavaria to revive the territorial companies. The western territories were pushed into action by the wars of Louis XIV. The danger of a Scandinavian war forced Prussia, whose standing army was fighting far from home, to put the territorial militia on a realistic footing. A model case for the second period of modern military organization is that of Bavaria with its revived system of regional defence. In wartime the standing army fought side by side with the territorial companies, which were made up of unmarried soldiers recruited on a selective basis. Before the outbreak of war there had already been attempts to establish a close link with the hired troops. In wartime a proportion of the selected troops recruited for two years was incorporated into the field formation of the regular army; the rest were used for garrison and frontier duties in their own formations. During the course of a century and a half this system was often allowed to lapse, though it was always regarded as a model to be aimed at and improved upon.28 On the one hand, the local character of the territorial companies is more obvious than in the first period; on the other hand, the recruiting of the standing army from men with a duty to serve with the territorial companies represents an early form of national service in the standing army such as is characteristic of the third period. Nevertheless it was the miles perpetuus that determined the character of warfare and army organization. In Austria after the Thirty Years' War, in Brandenburg-Prussia in 1644 and 1654-5, *n Bavaria in 1664-5, *n Saxony in 1673 a n d m Wiirttemberg in 1673, the forces that really counted were the armies of mercenaries kept permanently under arms. In the smaller territories belonging to the Imperial circles of Franconia, Swabia, the Rhenish Electorate and the Upper Rhine, which committed themselves by the Frankfurt Association Recess of 1697 to maintaining a standing army, a regular recruited militia was maintained even in peacetime. The territorial estates often refused to vote the necessary taxes for the contingents of the circles, until the imperial courts forced them to do so. In the Bavarian circle no imperial troops were maintained in peacetime, and in the circles of Upper and Lower Saxony the' constitution' was largely rendered void because the powerful estates of the Empire, like BrandenburgPrussia, with territories situated in several circles, did not want their well-organized armies fragmented. The shortcomings of the war constitution and the army led the famous imperial publicist Johann Jacob Moser to voice the justified demand that 'Germany should be forbidden for all time to wage an imperial war.' Following the example of France, Christoph 28

K. Staudinger, Geschichte des Bayerischen Heeres 11,1-111,2 Munich 1904-33. On the conditions in Austria see R. Lorenz, Volksbewaffnung und Staatsidee in Osterreich ijg2-ij9j, Vienna 1926, pp. i3ff.

236

Army organization in the German territories, 1500—1800 Bernhard, the warlike bishop of Miinster, and the electors of Brandenburg and Bavaria tightened the bond between the state and the army, that is between the prince and the commander, by converting the contractual relationship with the colonels into one of service. No longer did the master of the regiment supply the prince with a body of men whom he had recruited himself and bargain with them as with his own property: now he had to recruit men in a prescribed manner with money belonging to the ruler, who, through his commissioners, now exercised a greater administrative and supervisory authority and had the right to nominate the senior officers - later the junior officers too. In the first period the system of regional defence in the territories was based on a partnership between prince and estates which was still tolerable, though already frequently strained. The second period, however, that of the standing army, saw almost universal and often fierce contention for the leadership within the state. For the estates hardly ever agreed voluntarily to vote taxes for the miles perpetuus. It was in the struggle over the army that the early form of absolutism secured a firm hold in the territories. However, the taxes that were voted soon proved insufficient; the constantly increasing resort to cabinet wars made it imperative to gear the whole administration and economy of the state to the increasing requirements of the troops and tofinancialand material readiness for war. In the eighteenth century an alliance was concluded, in the service of militarism, between bureaucracy and mercantilism. Thus in those territories which played an active role in the politics of Germany and Europe and were constituted as strong centralized states, the army came to exercise a decisive influence in shaping the economic and social structure, just as it had done earlier in the major states of the continent. The Prussian bureaucratic and economic system, which had been built up by the commissariat, and the practical and personal functions assigned to the three estates in this military state, offers a supreme example of the systematic development of power.29 BrandenburgPrussia, which had become one of the great powers of Europe, was emulated by only a few of the other territories - by Bavaria for a while, later by Hesse,30 andfinallyby the defeated Austria of Maria Theresa. The military and economic efforts of the minor territories failed, as we know, because their resources were inadequate, and this led to such phenomena as contracts for subsidies and the supply of soldiers. Such efforts often had 29

30

The tendency is stressed by O. Biisch, Militdrsystem und Sozialleben im alten Preussen 1713-1807. Die Anfange der sozialen Militarisierung der preussisch-deutschen Gesellschaft (Veroffentlichungen der Berliner Historischen Kommission Bd. 7), Berlin 1962. The considerable mutual influence of Hessian and Prussian conditions has been shown by H.-G. Bohme, Die Wehrverfassung in Hessen-Kasselim i8.jfahrhundert biszum Siebenjdhrigen Kriege, Kassel and Basle 1954. Bohme briefly examines the defence organization and rejects the controversy over 'militia or standing army' for the same reasons as those given above. 237

The constitutional development of the early modern state no bearing upon the immediate interests of the territory, but were designed to preserve or enhance the power of the prince once he had acquired it; they might also, however, open the door to an independent policy. The elimination of the dualism of the standing army of hired soldiers and the levied militia remained one of the tasks of the period. About 1700, at the beginning of the period of the great European wars, the rural militias were revived in many territories - for instance Brandenburg-Prussia,31 Austria-Tyrol,32 Bavaria, Wiirttemberg, Saxony, Mainz - on German, Danish or Swedish lines. The soldiers recruited for them were often seconded to the standing army. In this way a large military organization kept alive the legal and socio-ethical obligation of the inhabitants to defend the territory. But 1700 was no longer 1600. The problem of switching the obligation to do military service to the miles perpetuus was now becoming acute, for modern tactical and technical conditions were making the territorial militia obsolete. Mercantilism was demanding large-scale exemptions, and the efficient and disciplined standing army was urgently demanding a proper system of internal troop-replacement. An unfortunate form of competition was arising between two systems of defence, for enrollment in the militia to a large extent precluded recruitment into the army. The best-known solution was the Prussian.33 When its creator, Frederick William I, came to the throne, he immediately dissolved the 'permanent territorial defence', the national militia instituted by his predecessor, in favour of the standing army; and two decades later, after trying a variety of compromise measures, he solved this important problem of military organization by means of the system of cantons, which had a strong likeness to the militia. The inhabitants of lands belonging to nobles who were often also the captains of companies were already subject to compulsory recruitment. This system was regularized and extended by transferring the enrollment of men (i.e. the entering of their names in Stammrollen) from the defunct militia to the regular army and by making this the basis of an internal reserve. For mercantile reasons and because of legal provisions made by the estates, whole towns and districts, civil servants and certain other professional groups, entrepreneurs, and essential craftsmen and workers were exempt from enrollment, together with nobles, middle-class property owners, and students. Consequently 'canton-duty' was a form of national service restricted by economic and political priorities; this situation at least in part had obtained earlier when the militia had been in existence. 31 32

33

Cf. Lampe, op. cit. (n. 18 above). A good account of Austrian conditions is given by O. Redlich, Das Werden einer Grossmacht. Osterreich von ijoo—1740, Vienna 3 i942, pp. i8ff. The best account is that of K. Jany, 'Kantonverfassung Friedrich Wilhelms I.', Forschungen zur brandenburgischen und preussischen Geschichte 38 (1926). 238

Army organization in the German territories, 1500—1800 The Prussian army granted furloughs of nine to ten months to trained men and recalled them to the colours for two to three months of the year; this was very much like a good militia. In other territories too a proportion of the army, up to two thirds of the total strength, was given leave of absence and called up again for one month of the year - the training month which we encounter elsewhere in militias. It was not only in Prussia, with its institution of'canton-duty', that the standing army underwent reorganization. Some of the new forms have received little attention: the Saxon system of rural recruitment, the Austrian system of recruitment by the estates, the practice of seconding militia men to the field army in wartime, found in Bavaria, Hesse and elsewhere, the militia as primary training for the standing army and as a pool of reserves for the regular army. In Saxony the elector demanded a certain number of recruits from the country; these were chosen by lot within the parishes - a method which survived until general national service was introduced in 1834. In the Habsburg lands the provision of local military forces was in the hands of the estates until the War of the Austrian Succession, and committees of the estates had charge of their movements and quartering. Only in the second half of the eighteenth century, when the Prussian model began to influence other territories, were recruitment districts and regular enlistments instituted; this led to the predominance of the princely authorities. For in Prussia recruiting was carried out solely by the military authorities up to the time of the Seven Years War; later they collaborated with the civil authorities. In almost all the other territories recruitment for both the militia and the standing army was partly or solely in the hands of civilian bodies, and these were mainly institutions of the estates. The Prussian officer corps was made up of members of the native nobility. This was not imitated elsewhere, though in other territories too most of the military commanders were local men. The institution of cadet companies for the nobility, which was introduced in Brandenburg-Prussia as early as 1686 under French influence and was developed in particular by Frederick William I, 34 was not introduced in Austria until 1752. The question of dilectus, the selection of officers and men, was much discussed in the extensive military literature of the second period of army development up to Friedrich von der Decken and Scharnhorst, just as that of militaris disciplina had been in the first period. In practice this problem was solved in a great variety of ways and at many different times during the period. How and when it was solved depended on the external progress and the internal character of each territorial state. In the second period, as in the first, the professional armies were 34

For the beginnings see C. Hinrichs, Friedrich Wilhelm /., Konig in Preussen I, Hamburg 1941, pp. 426-8.

239

The constitutional development of the early modern state influenced by a number of regional institutions for territorial defence. The introduction of regular drill, standard equipment and uniform dress was originally designed to put the selectively recruited local troops on an equal footing with the mercenaries; these institutions were then adopted by the professional troops and in the long run assured the superiority of the latter. Most territories now sought ways of making service with the militia more tolerable. Whereas it had once meant a commitment for life, and only in certain cases for a limited period, the period of service was now generally reduced to six, five or two years. This pointed the way for the standing army to develop if it was to keep up with the times - long-service soldiers being joined by others with short-term engagements. Only at the beginning of the nineteenth century, however, with the radical internal transformation of the system of German states, did a new kind of army organization emerge; this new system, for which Archduke Charles and Scharnhorst had worked, marked the beginning of the third period of military affairs in Germany. A variety of transitional phases, difficult to delimit, produced in the German territories a multiplicity of defence schemes which we have described only sketchily here and which can probably not yet be viewed in their entirety. A comparative approach is difficult because of the very variety of territorial developments. Moreover, it is often impossible to speak of a continuous train of development: sudden shifts forwards and backwards are more common in thefieldof defence than in that of public administration and governmental bodies. It seems beyond dispute, however, that the various forms of regional defence and territorial militia in the first two periods were of greater significance and had a profounder influence than has hitherto been assumed - a view which would be corroborated by an investigation more strongly orientated towards sociology. This is not to say that these defence associations were a match for the increasingly disciplined professional armies with their sophisticated linear tactics. The actual organization of the military forces had an important role in the internal formation of the state, in the development of the modern apparatus of government, and in the total political, economic and social structure of the state. From the military point of view, of course, the foreground was occupied by the powerful army, which, as an instrument of power, was not really intended to serve' the needs of national defence, but the power-seeking ambitions of the crown', the aims of the dynasty.35 35

O. Hintze, Gesammelte Abhandlungen in, Regierung und Verwaltung, Gottingen ^ 9 6 7 , p. 382.

240

14

The constitution of the Holy Roman Empire and the European state system, i648-1789 The problem of German unity from the Peace of Westphalia to the French Revolution, as it affected both internal and external politics, is characterized by 'German liberty' and Austro-Prussian dualism. For the two great developments of the period are the expansion of Austria-Hungary as a great power beyond the Empire and the rise of Brandenburg-Prussia above the condition of a mere imperial territory. These two became independent European powers and took their place within the international system of the balance of power. The creation of new states in the south-east and the north-east had direct consequences for the constitution and political order of the Empire. To an even greater extent than before, German disunity became a European problem, and the scope for foreign interference, by no means diminished, took on a new character. The idea of'German freedom', of the liberty of the imperial estates, was invoked again and again until the Holy Roman Empire came to an end. It was a fundamental principle of German life - in the first place a constitutional principle which safeguarded the jus statuum, the privileges and prerogatives enjoyed by the electors, princes, counts, and towns vis-a-vis the Emperor. These privileges and prerogatives dated from medieval times and were consolidated during the period of imperial reform around the beginning of the sixteenth century. The idea of German freedom was not confined to the legal sphere, but affected the general sentiment of the age and was deeply lodged in German consciousness. Its origins have received little attention. It took shape during the national-constitutional struggle of the imperial estates against the so-called 'Spanish servitude', the absolutist ambitions of Charles V, and during the political struggle for the religious autonomy of the individual rulers. This religious autonomy was embodied in the Peace of Augsburg, which furnished the Empire with one of its basic laws. The principle of liberty was renewed, enlarged, and reinforced by those articles of the Peace of Westphalia which determined the imperial constitution. The complex of constitutional laws - feudal, corporative and ecclesiastical - severely restricted the elected Emperor and forced him to 241

The constitutional development of the early modern state rely on the concurrence of the estates in all important designs and undertakings. German liberty had its visible expression in the Imperial Diet; from 1663 onwards this met in Regensburg as a permanent assembly of representatives of the estates, dedicated to the preservation of territorial liberties. At one time it had been comparable with other continental assemblies, but these either lost their power to check the growth of central state authority and so declined, some even ceasing to exist, or - as in Poland - gained the upper hand and were responsible for the downfall of the country. Running counter to the conservative principle of liberty was the general European trend towards the formation of the sovereign state. This involved the deliberate introduction of discipline into all areas of public life. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries saw an acceleration of the shift from the old, regionally secured liberties to centralized state control, from medieval feudalism to modern state authority. The establishment of discipline in the machinery of government and political organization, in the national army and the national economy - what we now call bureaucracy, absolutism, militarism, and mercantilism - is a single phenomenon; we may compare it with a four-faceted crystal, each facet in turn catching the observer's eye according to his angle of vision. In this regard the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation was an utter failure. It remained an archaic form of life in the midst of political rejuvenation, increased centralization, and growing monarchical power. Corporative thinking - which, as we shall see, was encouraged from abroad - opposed the establishment of discipline within the Empire. This was because the imperial estates feared absolute rule exercised by the Emperor. The imperial statesman Lisola, addressing himself to the German princes during the struggle against Louis XIV, extolled liberty as a precious possession which was threatened by the king of France. In one sentence he described how Germany's neighbour regarded freedom and discipline (Letter from a nobleman of Liege, 1672): 'What we call liberty is in France called an abuse, which must be remedied by discipline and order'. The German princes were never brought into submission to a higher authority; German liberty was never significantly restricted for the good of the Empire as a whole. If one starts from the general tendency of the age - and this is probably unavoidable in any critical approach - it appears as though any attention paid to the Holy Roman Empire is misplaced, for in terms of this general tendency the Empire has no history. If one sees the essential and lasting achievement of the age in the growth of state power and the discipline it ultimately involved, then it seems a waste of time and effort to concern oneself with the Empire. It never acquired those features which are generally regarded as fundamental to the modern state - regular 242

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system taxation, an organized army, a strong police, authoritative courts of law, and an effective administration. Its external security was guaranteed only insofar as particularist interests coincided with the common interest. This seldom happened, as we see from the territorial losses suffered by the Empire and from all peace negotiations and peace settlements. All this justifies us in asking how the Empire, which was so ineffective as a state, could continue to exist. What reasons can we cite - or infer - for the survival of such a ' non-state' ? This question was put by James Bryce when he brought out his very successful history of the Holy Roman Empire in 1864, and I think he answered it correctly in all essentials. He maintained, first, that the people and the princes clung to the venerable heritage of Rome (we should say to the idea of the Holy Empire and the office of Emperor). Secondly, the Germans were of all European peoples the slowest and most patient: since the Empire, if it collapsed, would have to be replaced by something else, they worked with the unwieldy machine for as long as they could. Thirdly, the imperial throne survived simply because no one appeared on the scene to topple it, not because there were in the nature of things any weighty reasons for its survival. Thus the Englishman Bryce, who wrote long before the Austrian historian H. von Srbik and who was alive at the time and welcomed the founding of the German Empire in 1871, regarded respect for imperial dignity and glory - reverence for Emperor and Empire, as Leibniz put it - as an important pillar of German solidarity, though he by no means overrated the power of the imperial idea. Srbik, on the other hand, saw Frederick the Great only as the architect of German dualism and as the one who destroyed the Empire. In fact, traditional ideology, conservatism, and general tenacity enabled the Empire to survive until its fictitious but legally correct self-dissolution in 1806, against which, curiously, Sweden protested because, though a guarantor of the Peace of Westphalia, she had not been consulted. In order the better to understand the historical reality of the old Empire, we must rid ourselves of the habit of judging historical processes by narrow positivist criteria which are appropriate to the affairs of a modern state. In the late Middle Ages and early modern times, the prime task of a ruler - including the Emperor - was to provide defence and protection, and in doing so he was entitled to call for help and advice. No emperor repudiated or ceded this function in internal affairs, though it was not always performed. The Empire acted as the highest judicial instance and tried to come to the aid of the territories and his subjects against injustice on the part of their overlords by issuing judgments and having them enforced through the executive authorities of the Empire. Through the imperial courts - the Aulic Council or the Imperial Chamber - he sought to provide protection when justice was denied and arbitrary force employed. By means 243

The constitutional development of the early modern state of imperial law he tried to maintain such guaranteed liberties as the right of free movement and the parity of the confessions. Thus, in February 1671, the Emperor withheld his assent, and hence legal force, from a far-reaching resolution of the Imperial Diet which sought to establish and extend in imperial law the right of the territories to impose taxes on their subjects. In doing so he used the characteristic words: 'While he freely grants to everyone what is founded in law, he is at the same time ready to defend and protect.' It is a distinctly medieval conception of government which is concerned primarily with peace and justice. This contrasts with the early modern notion of political order and unity, with the aim of the early modern state, which seeks to defend all its subjects against outside interference and pursues national and dynastic interests by looking to its international standing and the welfare of its citizens. The imperial publicists of the eighteenth century, the associates of the Putters and Mosers,1 repeatedly emphasized the inestimable importance of the Empire and the Emperor as a source of spiritual strength for the whole of German life. This was probably not so much because the teachers of imperial law at princely and civic universities failed to appreciate the constitutional realities and the absence of any genuine state power, as because they valued the small number of imperial institutions - which were admittedly under threat - as a symbol and a guarantee of political cohesion, however loose, between the states, as a binding force for German unity. Germany, though divided into states of different sizes and despite the centrifugal tendencies evident in practical politics, remained conscious of a common past and a common future interest until the close of our period. Clear evidence of this is the welcome accorded by the German public to the League of German Princes in 1785.2 The notion of German liberty was not just a principle of constitutional law: its maintenance was at the time a prime concern of French and Swedish foreign policy after the Peace of Westphalia. A century earlier, in 1552, a French pamphlet had declared:' German liberty is the solid bastion not only of the crown of France, but of the whole of Christendom.' Thus the idea of the liberties of the imperial estates was bound up, at its earliest stage, with the policies of the great powers. And this remained the case: France set herself up as the guardian of the principle of liberty, and in the Thirty Years' War she allied herself with Sweden in her fight against the imperial absolutism of the Habsburgs. When, in 1644, France and Sweden wanted to bring the imperial estates into peace negotiations, the chief 1

2

Johann Stephan Putter (i725-1807), professor at Gottingen. Johann Jacob Moser (1701-85), professor at Tubingen and Frankfurt/Oder. Cf. also above, p. 208 [Editors.] A league of German princes, headed by Frederick the Great, to oppose Joseph IPs plans to exchange the Austrian Netherlands (Belgium) for Bavaria. [Editors.]

244

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system Swedish emissary justified the demand, in a letter to the German Princes and the imperial cities, by the fact that for thirty years no Imperial Diet had been held and that in the meantime the Emperor alone had de facto usurped all the jura maiestatis. This, he said, was the way to absolute domination and the servitude of the estates. Sweden and France would prevent this. 'Their security rests upon the liberty of the German estates'. This statement reveals the political aims and methods of the two great European powers in the matter of German unity: to fight against the authority and power of the Emperor, against' absolute domination' in order to weaken both Emperor and Empire, and to intervene in favour of the liberty of the estates because this was where the security of France and Sweden was seen to lie. This policy determined the diplomatic strategy of both countries down to the smallest details. In Article VIII of the Peace of Osnabriick the liberty of the estates was laid down in accordance with Swedish and French wishes. All the old rights, benefits, liberties and privileges, now subsumed under the formula ' free exercise of territorial sovereignty in both spiritual and temporal affairs' (librum iuris territorialis tarn in ecclesiasticis quam in politicis exercitium) were guaranteed to the

electors, princes and estates of the Empire. For their own security the two foremost military powers of the continent exploited the sovereignty of the imperial estates against the power of the Emperor, and endeavoured to preserve, fortify and extend it. The dispute over the interpretation of the jus territoriale determines the history of German liberty until the end of the Empire. It is not surprising that in the sixty-eight volumes of Zedler's Grosses vollstdndiges Universallexikon aller Wissenschaften und Kiinste, that

politico-historical encyclopaedia and mine of imperial law, the heading ' Libertat' is not to be found, while' Landeshoheit' (' territorial sovereignty') is treated in detail. In article VIII of the Peace of Osnabriick it is recognized that the estates have the right to a voice in all deliberations on imperial affairs, i.e. legislation, the declaration of war, the raising of taxes, the raising and quartering of armies, the building of fortifications and the setting up of garrisons, as well as in the conclusion of peace treaties and alliances. It is striking that above all one fundamental liberty, the right of internal and external alliance, is mentioned separately - with the familiar provision that it should not be exercised against Emperor and Empire - while there is no mention of the equally crucial ius armorum, the right to maintain troops, which was later to be elaborated. This is an indication of the exclusive importance that France and Sweden attached to the diplomatic freedom of the estates and their right to active and passive diplomatic representation. Together with the pluralism of territorial authorities embodied in the three groupings of the estates - for this was the essence of political liberty — there was from now on a constitutionally legitimate religious

The constitutional development of the early modern state dualism within the Empire, the liberty of confession; this nullified any imperial decision in matters involving religion whenever the two bodies which had cognizance of such matters, the Corpus catholicorum and the Corpus evangelicorumy failed to agree. This caused imperial decisions to be delayed and even led to years of constitutional paralysis. Further tensions arose between the privileged electors and the other princes of the Empire. These latter were opposed to the pre-eminence and prerogatives enjoyed by the former, who alone elected the emperors and kings, and strove for parity among all the estates of the Empire. Tensions existed also between, on the one hand, the electors and princes and, on the other, the lesser estates, the counts and the cities. All such tensions were exploited and exacerbated by the official representatives of France and Sweden at or in the Imperial Diet. The discussion of the fundamental questions of German unity was postponed, however, until the first meeting of the Diet after the conclusion of peace; it did not assemble until 1653. These questions were the electoral capitulation, which settled the division of authority between the Emperor and the Empire, the law regarding the election of the king of the Romans, which was to affect the continuity - or rather discontinuity - of the imperial office in the house of Habsburg, the revival of the imperial circles, the ten self-governing bodies responsible for providing imperial forces, and finally the fiscal and legal systems of the Empire. Most of these questions, however, remained unresolved. Thus the Peace of Westphalia (the text of which has been rightly described by a twentieth-century French historian as resembling more a constitution - une charte - than a diplomatic instrument) brought only HbertaSy not unit as in necessariis. The constitutional development of the Empire had now to all intents and purposes come to an end. Only in the legal sphere did the final imperial recess of 1654, with its new procedural rules for the Imperial Chamber and the Aulic Council, produce a settlement which, though not undisputed, remained important for the last century and a half of the Empire's existence. For it was the judicial system that was the unifying factor within the Empire, in spite of extensive exemptions, sharper definition of territorial rights and the ineffectiveness of the Imperial Chamber. In important areas of the law it proved salutary that the Empire was older than the territories. The Imperial Diet of 1653-4 decided against giving binding force to majority decisions on questions of imperial taxation, but in favour of extending territorial sovereignty in the levying of military imposts; this came about because the elector of Brandenburg went over from the Emperor's side to that of the new imperial estate of Sweden. The Imperial Diet was thus able to thwart the Emperor's attempt to develop the Empire's potential for becoming a modern state. However, it was not 246

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system able to reverse such proceedings as the promulgation of the new constitution of the Aulic Council; this took place, contrary to the peace provisions, solely on the strength of the Emperor's authority. After the Peace of Westphalia there was, one might say, a double bond linking the Empire to the rest of Europe. In the first place, the Empire was an organization with negative restrictions designed to protect its members. It was thus simply an object of European power politics, for even imperial wars were waged by the estates on the basis of separate treaties. Moreover, the fact that France was represented at the Regensburg diet and that Sweden was a member ensured that there was a legitimate European voice in imperial policy. The Empire itself was run, so to speak, by those who ranked high in European precedence, but it did not have an equal voice among the powers of Europe. Hence it had no place in the theory of the balance of power; this was determined by the alliances of the four or five great powers. Austria was one of these from the beginning, and Prussia joined them in the eighteenth century. This state of affairs becomes evident when we consider the projects for alliances that were made after 1648. At the time of the last Imperial Diet, which ended with the Final Imperial Recess of 1654 — of the permanent Diet we have only individual resolutions - the imperial count George Frederick of Waldeck, the minister of elector Frederick William of Brandenburg, put to his master a project for an anti-imperial league of German princes under the leadership of Brandenburg. This plan first became known in 1869, shortly before the founding of the German Empire; it was then greeted as early evidence of the idea of a united Germany under Prussian leadership. Looking at it soberly, one has to acknowledge that Count Waldeck's ambitious plans had no chance of being realized. The treaty of 1654 between Brandenburg and Brunswick seemed to open the door to a more general alliance within the Empire, and not a purely Protestant alliance; but electoral Brandenburg was far from being able to assume the hegemony of Germany in defiance of the house of Habsburg. Ranged against Brandenburg was the decidely Catholic alliance between the three ecclesiastical electorates and other principalities which was to form the basis of the first Confederation of the Rhine. Thus we encounter the idea of federation under various forms. It derived from the enduring distrust of the Emperor's universalist dynastic aims and the ambitions of the house of Habsburg outside the Empire. The aim of federation was by no means to strengthen and unify the Empire, though fundamentally it was inspired by imperial weakness and disunity. The pluralism of territorial liberties and the dualism of the confessions did nothing, by themselves, to protect the interests of either the small or the 247

The constitutional development of the early modern state large territories of the Empire. Only by alliances with others could these interests be upheld and properly represented. For, despite all the talk of supporting the Empire, the essential motive behind most federations was the interest of the individual ruler; reason of state within the territories was what really counted, and it prevailed more and more often. Only where imperial and particularist interests coincided, owing to the need to rely on the support of Big Brother - as in the highly fragmented south-western part of the Empire - can one speak of a willingness to serve imperial interests. This south-western area remained the source from which the house of Habsburg and the society of the Empire - the bureaucratic, courtly, and military aristocracy of Vienna - drew its reserves of manpower, no nice distinction being drawn between the interests of the Emperor and those of the Empire. The idea of unions or free associations is a fundamental one in the history of the German Empire. They might be formed on the intitiative of the estates or of the Emperor, they might have a regional or a confessional basis, they might have mainly military aims, but they always felt compelled to take up the unfulfilled tasks of the Empire and nearly always interfered in its proper interests. Pufendorf, in a critique of the constitution of 1667, correctly perceived that without a federative system the Empire would perish. In our period the idea of federation was more and more a response to internal dangers and an expression of claims to power by the territorial states; in part it was also an inevitable reaction to the ineffectiveness of the imperial constitution in the European struggle for power. It was undoubtedly necessary to maintain and reinforce those imperial institutions which were of benefit to whatever alliance was in being at any given moment. Imperial unity, however, was scarcely the principal, and certainly not the sole, intended beneficiary. The Rhenish Confederation of 1658 was intended by its members to stop the Emperor's troops crossing into the Spanish Netherlands. They wanted to dissociate the Holy Roman Empire from the continuing conflict between France and Spain after the Peace of Westphalia. This could be achieved by an alliance of princes only if they were to rely on a strong military power that was capable, if necessary, of enforcing the legal obligations. At the moment the Bourbon king seemed to present less of a danger than the Habsburg emperor. To protect themselves and to maintain peace, an alliance was made between Mainz, Trier, Cologne, Palatinate-Neuburg, the 'imperial estate' of Sweden (acting for Bremen and Verden), Brunswick and Hesse-Kassel; one day later it was joined by Louis XIV. Wiirttemberg, Hesse-Darmstadt and finally, in 1665, Brandenburg acceded. This was undoubtedly a strong grouping of powers, but it is unlikely that their

248

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system association was meant to replace - or could have replaced - the Imperial Diet, which in 1658 was not yet a permanent assembly.3 The leading figure in this alliance was the elector of Mainz, John Philip of Schonborn, the first clerical politician from a family that was to play an important role in the history of the Empire after the Peace of Westphalia. He was an opponent of the Habsburg emperor as long as the latter seemed to be the greater threat to imperial peace, but later he was one of the most active campaigners for a strong Empire under the Emperor's leadership in the struggle against French aggression. When the permanent diet opened in 1663, at a time when the Rhenish Confederation was still officially in being, John Philip advocated a general guarantee between the Emperor and the estates which would assure all participants of protection against foreign attack. This plan he combined with an attempt to bring the Empire up to date militarily by means of a standing army. This would have afforded an opportunity for a practical reduction of imperial pluralism by the setting up of a federation, had agreement been reached between the Emperor and the electoral arch-chancellor, who virtually controlled the interests of most of the estates. However, the French representative at the Diet succeeded in thwarting the plan. All subsequent plans to strengthen the Empire came up against French diplomacy. It not only successfully employed monetary inducements, to which the indigent German princes all too easily succumbed, but invoked France's duty to uphold the existing imperial order. It remained the constant tenor of all instructions to French ambassadors at German courts that they should work to safeguard German liberty this being interpreted in accordance with French aims. In 1658 Louis XIV suffered a defeat in the election for the office of Emperor when the French candidates withdrew. The electors, obliged to choose between the Habsburg Leopold and the Bourbon Louis, gave their vote to Leopold on the condition that he renounced support for Spain. Six months later the Rhenish Confederation came into being. Louis XIV hoped to achieve what had eluded Francis I in competition with Charles V - the acquisition of the crown of Charlemagne, combining imperial rule in Germany with absolute kingship in France. The electors of Saxony, Bavaria and Brandenburg were won over by secret treaties to voting for ' the most Christian king', should he present himself personally as a candidate. After the peace of Nijmegen, when French hegemony seemed undisputed, Louis XIV sent his best diplomatist to bring home the harvest for which he had toiled so long. However, the policy of the reunion chambers was just beginning; this was used to justify the occupation of imperial lands under 3

R. Schnur, Der Rheinbund von 1658 in der deutschen Verfassungsgeschichte, Bonn 1955, p. 36. 249

The constitutional development of the early modern state threadbare claims of feudal law. Strasbourg, an important imperial city and university on the left bank of the Rhine within the area over which the French claimed suzerainty, was conquered in the middle of a period of peace. Consequently the general mood turned against France. The strength of public opinion was manifested in a flood of pamphlets. The danger of Germany having a Bourbon emperor passed, but the Empire remained impotent and incapable of protecting itself. On the western frontier of the Empire the court of Mainz had been pursuing a consciously imperial policy. It was in this ambience that Leibniz in 1670 wrote his famous Bedenkeny welchergestalt Securitas publica interna und status praesens im Reich auffesten Fuss zu setzen. This once more coupled

the idea of federation with the plan for a reform of defence. Leibniz and Boineburg, his patron and minister, shared a genuine concern for the Empire, naturally under the guidance of Mainz as far as possible, though not so much for a special alliance such as was envisaged under Waldeck's plan of union, which relied ultimately on France. Leibniz rejected the sharp attack on the Habsburg emperor which had been made shortly before the Peace of Westphalia by Hippolithus a Lapide, and also the historio-political critique of the constitution by Samuel von Pufendorf-Monzambano4 (which has done so much to determine our understanding of constitutional conditions after the Peace of Westphalia). The demand made by a Lapide, a partisan of the Swedish cause, for the extirpation of the house of Austria probably displeased Leibniz no less than the sceptical attitude of Pufendorf, who regarded the Empire, a fragmented, pluralist, dualist non-state without united leadership, as a political 'monster', i.e. an abnormal and impossible structure. His famous formula was irregulare aliquod corpus et monstro simile \

we should not, of course, make too much of the fashionable literary cliche monstrum. Of both books Leibniz said in 1668, a year after Monzambano's appeared: 'One knows the harm that a few books have done now and then. Hippolithus a Lapide some while ago and Monzambano lately have certainly confused and exulcerated men's minds.' The aim of the Bedenken of 1670 was the attainment of the securitas imperii by means of a permanent general alliance of the German imperial estates, the Swabian League being mentioned as a model. Leibniz expressly denied that he wished to protect the peace of Europe as a whole in the manner of the Triple Alliance between England, Sweden and the Netherlands. The Imperial Diet being ineffectual, his object was simply' the peace of the Empire' and agreement among its members - it would be too much to say its 'unity', although the new alliance had as its chief maxim 'that no division should be caused by it in the Empire'. Each partner was to 4

Pufendorfs De Statu Imperii Germanici (1667) was published under the pseudonym of Severinus de Monzambano, supposedly a Veronese traveller. [Editors.] 250

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system contribute a permanent military contingent; a federal council was envisaged to deal with federal affairs, diplomacy, and so forth. The memorandum intentionally avoids advocating a 'union of the whole Empire at a public diet', and describes this as a 'hopeless.. .almost impossible undertaking'. Instead it takes the only practicable course of trying to arrive at a German political organization through a new unity outside the existing constitution. It has recently been denied - wrongly, as it seems to me - that in proposing such an alliance Leibniz and Boineburg were seeking an indirect reform of the Empire in the service of the electoral arch-chancellor. Certainly one must not overrate Leibniz's political importance, and yet at times his realistic aims indicate general reforming tendencies which go beyond any mere temporary increase in imperial military strength. The plan he drew up slightly earlier for founding academies to take in hand public tasks, including some of a practical and economic nature, indicates that he was seeking a general national reinvigoration of Germany. His related plans to promote German linguistic unity in the manner of the French Academy constitute a part - to a certain extent the programmatic basis - of the large cultural designs of the court of Mainz under the elector John Philip. Nor must Leibniz's other achievements in the sphere of intellectual and scientific organization be passed over in a history of Germany's progress towards unity. The Empire's war against France, which was resolved upon in 1674, had to be prosecuted without an Imperial army. After several years of deliberation, the Regensburg Diet settled the punctus securitatis in August 1681. It was decided to form a standing army, the raising of which would be the responsibility of the imperial circles. The financial side of the matter was dealt with by setting up an imperial war fund with corresponding institutions in the circles. However, each estate was left to decide whether it wished to maintain its own troops or to pay for its contingent to be provided by the armed estates, that is by the princes who had standing armies. As a consequence, the military organization set up in 1681 was from the start an unsatisfactory solution. More decisive was the fact that the larger territorial states, which had efficient armies and whose land straddled several imperial circles, had no intention of breaking up their new instrument of power in order to subordinate parts of it to the imperial provinces. The urgent problem of providing the Empire with the protection of the united armed estates was not to be solved by the device of reviving the military functions of the imperial circles. Hence it was only in the areas bordering upon France, where the imperial circles comprised a number of minor territories, that an imperial army was formed, and even here this was achieved only thanks to the strong pressure of French depredations in the south-west of the Empire. For, in Leibniz's words, ' a thunder-clap was 251

The constitutional development of the early modern state needed to wake the Germans'. In 1688 Margrave Louis William of Baden succeeded in raising a fighting force in the Swabian and Franconian circle for the defence of the Rhine; this was joined, after the Frankfurt Association Recess of 1697, by the circles of the Rhenish Electorate, the Upper Rhine and Westphalia. Nevertheless, the verdict of a pamphlet of 1687 was right when it advocated alliances 'of both the Emperor and the strong potentates' to save the Roman Empire, ' for the circle constitutions and the matricula5 give birth only to disputatiousness, promising more than they perform'. Behind the example of imperial defence in the age of Louis XIV lies the question, as yet not properly answered, of the extent to which the military security of the Empire and its existence in international law were dependent on the European system of states and the attainment of a balance of power between them. While the way to German unity was made more difficult by the manner in which France, and for a time Sweden, exploited and fostered the principle of German liberty, the idea of a political balance in Europe succeeded in delaying the end of the Empire, the ramshackle home of the Germans. For it was bound to be the ambition of anybody who wanted to put an end to the pathetic spectacle of German liberty - the reverse of the coin whose obverse showed the great freedoms and rights enjoyed by the estates - to take part in the great European alliances, to become one of the wielders of power, and to join in shaping the balance of power. Thus the European system of states underwent a change that originated in the heart of the Empire: the whole face of Europe, not only of Germany, was transformed by the emergence of Austria-Hungary as a great power in the second half of the seventeenth century, and of Prussia under the Hohenzollerns in the first half of the eighteenth. The evolution, character and behaviour of these states differed profoundly and will not be described here; we will confine ourselves to indicating the effect they had on German unity and on the situation in Europe as a whole. The territorial development of Austria to great power status was the result of her reaching beyond the frontier of the Empire towards the south-east to fulfill an ancient obligation of the house of Habsburg to the Empire and to Europe - the obligation to ward off the Ottoman power. The Turkish attack on Vienna in 1683 was a threat not only to the Emperor as ruler of Austria, but to the Empire itself. German and other European troops helped the Emperor defeat the Turks, and this in turn made possible 'Hungary's great option for the west'. The victories of Prince Eugene at Buda and Belgrade were European achievements, winning land for Germans to colonize. They laid the foundation of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, 5

Quotas for imperial taxes assigned to each estate (i.e. member) of the imperial Diet. [Editors.] 252

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system the power base of the house of Habsburg under the Emperor, now extending even farther beyond the confines of the Empire. Yet Habsburg power was no counter-balance to the weakness of the Empire in central Europe, as is demonstrated by the losses it sustained in the wars against Louis XIV. The campaigns against the Turk and the war in the west naturally affected each other. The wars which the Empire declared in order to beat back French attacks were not the powerful actions of an Empire stiffened by Austrian military might and united in an external struggle. They were the outcome of treaties laboriously concluded between individual princes; the princes, however reserved the right to conclude a separate peace, which was what the elector of Brandenburg did, or to enter into partnership with France - which was what some other princes did. In the war against France, which the Diet resolved upon in 1702, the Wittelsbach electors of Bavaria and Cologne fought on the other side, against the Empire. Austria-Hungary, engaged in fending off the Turkish threat, could do nothing about this. With help from the rest of Europe, the Empire secured the Netherlands as a shield against French attack. In this war, the War of the Spanish Succession, the troops of Brandenburg-Prussia fought with distinction beside the Emperor as subsidiary allies in the Grand Coalition. The kingdom of Prussia, which lay outside the Empire, could not yet count as an equal with its allies. It was Frederick William I who created the right internal conditions for the pursuit of an independent policy - an army, an administrative apparatus and a healthy exchequer. He may be said to have attained the goal which nearly every imperial estate was striving for after 1648 - the achievement of real power, which the estates, intent upon the principle of liberty, denied to the Empire. In the state they built up, the rulers of Brandenburg-Prussia gave actual form to the great trend which we have characterized as the hall-mark of the period, the trend towards discipline. However, Frederick William also tried to do his duty by the Empire. On his death-bed, this monarch, so often deceived by the house of Habsburg, impressed his political principles on his son. Everyone knew, he said, that the Emperor was to be regarded as the head of the Empire. His Majesty of Prussia, however, was to be regarded as an estate and elector of the Empire whose largest and most important lands lay within its bounds. Therefore, on the part of the royal electoral house, all respect, consideration and regard must be accorded to the Emperor. As it is written in the Gospel, ' render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's'. Only after this acknowledgment of his obligations did Frederick William give voice to his bitter experience: for the imperial court was in no way to be trusted. He had himself discovered this many times. It was an unvarying principle with Austria to hold Prussia down. In these pronouncements future developments were adumbrated. 253

The constitutional development of the early modern state Frederick II dared to draw the consequences from his father's experience. He used the accession of Maria Theresa in 1740 to seize Silesia by naked force and at the same time to win for Prussia the status of a great European power. The moment had now come for the switch from liberty to dualism - for the absorption of the practical dualism of Emperor and Empire, of the constitutional pluralism of the estates, and of the less conspicuous, though constitutionally important dualism of the confessions into the all-embracing dualism of the great powers of Germany. This change, brought about by Frederick, was neither more nor less fatal to the Empire than the older principle of liberty or the religious division in the Diet had been. Austro-Prussian dualism gave a new form to the pathetic existence of the Empire, dependent as it was on the great powers of Europe. The loss of Silesia did not mean that the imperial house of Habsburg must give up its position in the Empire: the Empire proper, that is south-western Germany, was still available to the Danubian monarchy as a reservoir of human resources. However, a great power had now appeared within the Empire which was prepared to give the minor German states protection and defence on its own account. Neither the Wittelsbach Emperor Charles VII, who managed, with the help of France and Prussia, to break the three-hundred-year hold of the Habsburgs on the imperial office for a short time, nor Frederick the Great himself succeeded in weakening the Austrian party, supported as it was by the ecclesiastical principalities and the cities, until a breakthrough became possible in the train of Joseph IPs policy of annexation. What mattered was that there was now a nucleus around which a coalition of states could crystallize without having to look for foreign support in order to counter any interference from the Emperor. It thus seemed likely that Austro-Prussian dualism would be able largely to reduce the scope of foreign interference in the German problem. In the event, however, the ties between the Prussian military monarchy and the parties to the balance of power led at once to Germany's becoming more deeply involved in European great power politics. The interesting process by which German princely families supplied occupants for European thrones - those of Sweden, Denmark, Poland and England - certainly complicated the question of German unity, but did not radically alter it. It is certainly true, as M. Braubach's investigations have shown, that it was not simply the emergence of a second great power in Germany that led to the renversement des alliances', however, the 'most important political and diplomatic event in eighteenth-century Europe, the reconciliation and union of the houses of Habsburg and Bourbon after centuries of enmity' would have been unthinkable had it not been for the rise of the north German state. Hitherto the imperial estate of Brandenburg-Prussia had had the support of France in its quarrels with the Emperor. Now Austria and 254

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system France, together with Russia, united in opposition to Europe's newest great power, which was allied to England. Frederick tried to assume the position that France had occupied in relation to the Empire. At the Regensburg diet in September 1756 his ambassador described him as the greatest pillar of the estates. Formally Prussia opposed Maria Theresa not as the 'Empress', but as a powerful fellow-estate. Frederick the Great twice availed himself of the idea of federation. His first attempt to rally the Protestant princes around him was in 1756, after the declaration of an imperial war against him. This has received relatively little attention from historians. The elector of Hanover, George I of England, was in favour of the alliance. Maria Theresa at the time wanted Frederick put under the imperial ban by a majority resolution of the Diet. This contravened the electoral capitulation and infringed the rights of the Protestants. Frederick used the projected Protestant union in order to force the proceedings against him to a halt by a show of solidarity in Regensburg. The Viennese court soon dropped its unconstitutional plans, and accordingly Frederick let the negotiations for a league of Protestant princes lapse. Of more general importance is Frederick's second resort to the idea of federation, towards the end of our period. Maria Theresa's son Joseph II set about both his Austrian and his imperial policy with great reforming zeal. Within the Empire the Emperor's sway was to be restored or consolidated and his diminished influence made good. Joseph tried to round off his Austrian territory by acquiring Bavaria and so to effect a notable shift of power within the Empire. Frederick opposed him; he appealed to Russia, who joined with France in guaranteeing the peace of Teschen, which ended the war of the Bavarian succession. In this way the great power of eastern Europe became obliged to defend the status quo in the Empire. The rise of Russia had taken place in the eighteenth century: she had stood united with the imperial army of Prince Eugene on the Rhine in 1735, and in the Seven Years War she had fought to crush Prussia and plundered Berlin. From now on Russia's was a card to be watched in the game for internal unity. In his active imperial policy Joseph II scored a success by securing the election of a Habsburg as a coadjutor in Cologne and Miinster. This gave the Habsburgs the Wittelsbach succession on the Lower Rhine and in Wesphalia. The Emperor now tried again to gain possession of Bavaria, this time in excange for the Austrian Netherlands. He was opposed by the small and medium-sized states of Germany, which were already feeling threatened by the paralysis of the Regensburg diet. The creation of a 'third Germany', a federation under Prussian guarantee, was advocated by Baden, AnhaltDessau, Saxe-Weimar, Saxe-Gotha and Brunswick. The attitude of Russia and France as guarantors was likely to be important. Individual princes 255

The constitutional development of the early modern state were determined to fight for the old constitution of the Empire against Joseph IPs absolutism, which was now casting its shadow over the Empire - even if this meant endorsing the new American ideas of freedom. In February 1785 Duke Ernest of Gotha wrote to Carl August of Weimar: ' Right and justice are on our side - and my oath! The wisdom of providence cannot countenance, cannot support the suppression of all civil and state rights. The example of America seems to me to give vocal proof of this fundamental law... And the rights of humanity brook no obsolescence.' The run-down edifice of the Empire, of which a Saxon elector had spoken with impotent regret during the Thirty Years War one-and-a-half centuries earlier, was again being defended by a scion of the house of Wettin — with the ideas of the American revolution! The league between the electors of Brandenburg, Brunswick and Saxony, negotiated in the archaic terms of traditional imperial law, provided a solid foundation for the League of German Princes, which recalled the League of Schmalkalden of two-and-a-half centuries earlier. Most of the German territorial rulers joined it. Carl August hoped that the new union would benefit the Empire. He was tireless in advocating it, especially to the electoral arch-chancellor, to whom an important function was to be allotted. Carl August's political correspondence, published 1954-8, gives us a full insight into what took place. In 1787 Frederick the Great's successor nominated Carl August comme quasi-chef dans son Cabinet Intime pour toutes

les affaires de P Union. For this purpose the Prussian ambassadors in Bavaria, Saxony, Mainz, Cologne and Kassel were subordinated to the Duke. Carl August tried to overcome the narrowly Prussian orientation of the League of German Princes. He wanted to bring about a more powerful re-formation of the Empire, to resuscitate the legislative process, and to raise substantially the quality of the imperial courts. He failed to change the Prussian attitude. There was a plan for a congress of the Union in Mainz, which would discuss the revision of German laws in order subsequently to put these reforms through the Diet; but nothing came of this idea. German public opinion observed these efforts for imperial unity with the utmost sympathy, yet it produced no positive plans for a new political order. Herder at this time developed his ' idea for the first patriotic institute for the common spirit of Germany' with a view to bringing together in one academy the greatest minds in Germany. More than a century earlier, at the court of Mainz, Boineburg and Leibniz had proposed a union of spirit and power, but they had underestimated the policy of liberty pursued by the estates and the reaction of the guarantor powers. Similarly Carl August of Weimar and Johann Gottfried Herder put forward the same political aim, the political renewal of the Empire on a spiritual basis; but they failed to 256

The constitution of the Empire and the European state system carry with them the politicians, whose actions remained soberly attached to Prussian raison d'etat or to political calculations within a European framework. The partial reform to which Carl August committed himself politically and ideologically - in the last minute, as it were, before the French Revolution erupted - could probably never have been effected. German unity as a European problem between the Peace of Westphalia and the French Revolution presents the historian with a variety of tasks. What was inherited from the past - the pluralism of the estates with their liberties, the confessional split in the Empire - and what was bequeathed to the future - the dualism of the two great powers in Germany - direct our attention to only two of the main problems that beset the imperial constitution. Interwoven with these were the competing interests of the European system of states, represented by France and, for a time, by Sweden, later on by England and Russia.Their attitudes and actions might at one moment coincide and at another conflict, but all the time they were tempted to intervene directly or indirectly in the exposed middle ground of Europe, which consisted very largely of imperial lands. The European threat to German unity was already present when the system of political balance took shape, since a necessary condition for such balance was German disunity - the tension between Emperor and Empire that was built into the imperial institutions, and the political and confessional liberties of the territories. The fact that two great powers could emerge in Germany during the period is ample proof that the system was capable of changing. It points, however, to a fresh danger - the division of the Empire into two halves: a northern half orientated towards Protestantism, discipline and the military ethos, and a southern half aligned with Catholicism and less reliant on state institutions. Germany had not solved any of the problems we have mentioned when it became involved in the conflict of the French Revolution. Under the impact of this conflict the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation succumbed and broke apart.

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15

The structure of the absolute state For over a hundred and fifty years European historical research has been exercised by the question of absolutism. The term may either be taken, as it customarily is, in its restricted sense, to refer to the period from the middle of the seventeenth century to the French Revolution - the age of absolutism proper - or, in the broad sense, as relating to that movement in the early modern period which saw the development of post-feudal absolute monarchy and gave the modern state its pre-revolutionary form. The term itself is a relatively late coinage, having arisen in liberal circles in the second and third quarters of the nineteenth century; in liberal constitutional and social thought it designated the undesirable aspects of unrestricted power wielded by a ruler. It has since entered most European languages, though it has not acquired everywhere the positive sense associated with the development of the modern state on the continent. The phenomenon is generally viewed unsympathetically in England, as the preference for the pejorative synonym' despotism' indicates, though it is striking that the fifth volume of the "New Cambridge Modern History, entitled 'The Ascendancy of France' (1961) and describing the great period of French absolutism, avoids the term 'despotism'. The term 'absolutism' may derive from the puissance absolue, the immense power and authority, enjoyed by the monarch, as it was interpreted in the history of political ideas, or it may come directly from the famous formulation of Jean Bodin, who in 1576 credited the prince with 'summa in cives ac subditos legibusque soluta potestas'. The origin of the term will not concern us here. The context in which it is used is at any rate clear. The formula legibus solutus, which occurs in Justinian's Corpus Juris, belongs to Roman private law. The sense given to it by Bodin is taken to be that the prince was free of any legal constraints which were not supported by or derived from the law of God and nature. The controversy over the meaning of the phrase legibus solutus and for or against the formula itself began long before Bodin's Les six livres de la republique appeared. A great deal has been learned in the last few decades about the great Spanish theologian-jurists of late scholasticism. We now have a vivid picture of the controversy as it was fought out in the sixteenth 258

The structure of the absolute state century, the age of Charles V and Philip II. The moral theology of Vitoria, de Soto, and Covarrubias furnishes very comprehensive theories of the state and society which are in keeping with the notable representative traditions of Aragon and Castile. They reject not only autocratic forms of government, but absolute monarchy altogether. European natural law was the counterpoise to absolutist doctrines. It was inaugurated in Spain, whence it spread to Dutch soil, on which corporative life flourished; from there it was carried in various forms - whether by Althusius or English theorists - into the world of European political thought, including that of northern Europe. The theory and practice of absolute monarchy was constantly involved in the controversy over divine and natural law - what it meant, enjoined, allowed, and restricted. Absolute monarchy is characterized by its tendency to exclude other forces from participation in national government at home and in relation to other countries. Such forces were, especially, the imperial, provincial, and territorial estates, representing particularist opposition to the centralizing ambitions of the prince. Today it is no longer possible to speak of more than a tendency in the direction of princely independence and authority. The old liberal notion of the absolute state holding absolute sway right down to the lowest level - in cives ac subditos, to use Bodin's formula - has long since been discarded. In any case there is a profound and obvious difference between the absolute state of the past and the totalitarian state of the present. Historical research is at present engaged in demonstrating the variety and autonomy of political life in state and society which remained unaffected by absolute monarchy. True, there are authoritarian similarities with totalitarian regimes - in particular the concentration of power, in the one case at the court and the residence, in the other in the state and party apparatus. On the other hand there are sharp contrasts. The absolutist administration did not have complete control over an undifferentiated mass society extending to the individual family, nor, as C. J. Friedrich has pointed out, did it have the brutal desire or the means to manipulate popular opinion and sentiment in favour of a uniform national and party ideology. The absolute state cannot be held to have exercised a total supervision of public and personal life. As early as 1935 Karl Mannheim, a sociologist of considerable historical learning, maintained: 'Absolutism only appeared totalitarian. On the whole it did not possess the wherewithal to control all the activities of all the inhabitants of a territory.'1 And yet, in another way, private life was invaded and opinion manipulated. The attitudes and the conduct of even the simple subject were shaped, controlled, and regulated by the process of disciplining, 1

Karl Mannheim, Mensch und Gesellschaft im Zeitalter des Umbaus, Darmstadt 1958, Pt. IV, 'Das Denken auf der Stufe der Planung 2: Der ungeplante Bereich und die Planung', n. 4.

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The constitutional development of the early modern state which has been a major theme of this book. This process of disciplining produced a more or less violent change in the structure of society at all levels. The study of absolutism, as it was conducted after the French Revolution, was inaugurated by the brilliant work of Leopold von Ranke. This falls in the period of transition between late absolutism and early constitutionalism in Germany. It was so greatly affected by the revolutionary ideology of the fully-fledged modern state that it could not do other than paint a biassed picture of the power, authority, and efficiency of the former absolutist regime. Ranke himself wrote histories of Prussia, England, and France, all set in a European framework and concentrating on the period from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries. Apart from the international conflicts in Europe, he concerned himself with the emergence and growth of the machinery of power that was necessary for the conduct of war and diplomacy - the standing armies or navies, and the bureaucracies. After Ranke, in the age of the nation state, historians increasingly devoted themselves to studying rather the origins of its national institutions and central organizations than those traditions of political life which the new constitutional and liberal democracies had gratefully inherited from their predecessors. It was as though one were looking down from the royal box in the theatre of history on what was taking place below; it is only from above, from the throne and the circle of royal advisers, that the spotlight falls now and then on the lower strata of political and social life belonging to the ancien regime of Europe. The great editions of historical documents published in the last century drew their material from the archives of central government, from the sphere of the prince and the residence. Whatever was happening lower down, in the country at large, was of interest only if it supported or conflicted with the centralized sovereign state. Anything else belonged to particularist regional or territorial history and was a fit subject for provincial, local, and family historians. The man who had been called to write the political history of the Empire or the nation looked down benevolently, even at times disdainfully, at such parochial affairs. The study of internal politics in the absolute state did not get beyond the evolution of the bureaucracy, the organs of government and the civil service, the new state institutions and their conflicts with the estates. Investigations were devoted to the emergence of the standing armies, and, when the important role of the national economy in the formation of the state had been discovered, the national forms of mercantilism were investigated too. Questions of government and administration, the structure of the central political apparatus, the part played by the army in a national policy which was influenced by wars and by increasing strength of arms, the bearing of economic policy on national power and independence, and, 260

The structure of the absolute state not least, foreign policy and diplomacy - these were the great subjects of older historical reasearch. There was hardly room for others. The internal expansion of absolutism was taken seriously only to the extent that it was promoted by orders and directives from the cabinet and the central offices of government. Relations between church and state were frequent objects of investigation because, under the aegis of absolutism, an important aspect of European history was being reversed. The now divided church was being displaced from the controlling position it had once occupied beside - even above - the many and varied forms of political life in medieval, pre-absolutist times. The churches had previously played an important part in cultural and social life: now they were being wholly or partly integrated into - if not subordinated to - the absolute state. The fundamental significance of this process is often underrated and should not be assessed only in connection with the final period of enlightened despotism, for instance in the system of state churches under Joseph II. Older historical research provided invaluable source material and brilliant studies which must remain the basis for research. However, the last few decades have seen a change of direction. Instead of the view from the top, the exclusively national perspective on goverment and the higher reaches of administration, the area under scrutiny is now what lay underneath the newly created state institutions and remained largely untouched by them - the provincial estates, the regional associations, the local authorities, the manors, and the town councils - the pouvoirs intermediates. To put it paradoxically, a search is being conducted for the non-absolutist elements, the autonomous areas, within absolutism. Absolute monarchy is now being viewed from below, and described from the point of view of the territory and the town, with their respective institutions. Earlier research on Prussian absolutism was content with the proposition that 'the Prussian state stops at the Landrat ("country councillor")'. Recent research enquires into the administrative districts and social circles in which the Landrat was the most important person. It enquires about the regional knighthood, local government, the effectiveness of representative institutions - in short, about the condition of the subjects in town and country. Modern historical interpretation is now influenced by the methods of social history; this approach leads us to ask new questions about absolutism and to see old questions in a new light. As was made clear at three recent historical congresses - in Rome, Stockholm, and Vienna more attention is being paid to the limits of state administration. These are recognized not only by the extent to which absolutist power was actually able to assert itself, but also in the way it moderated its theoretical claims and the view it had of the state and society. However, it is not just a matter of establishing the limits of absolutism, 261

The constitutional development of the early modern state though this is, so to speak, an inner consequence of modern methods of research. More importantly, an entirely different world is revealed within absolutism itself- the old world of the European nobility, shaped by the ideal notions of the three estates and by ancient, authentic aristocratic tradition. It was a world at once uniform and diverse, which continued to be the dominant force not only in spiritual, social, and economic life, but also in the political shaping of absolutist society. Hence a powerful impetus to historical studies now comes from provincial and regional history, whether in France or Scandinavia, the Netherlands or Spain, England or Germany; it concerns itself not only with territorial dynastic questions, but digs deeper into local legal and social conditions, while never losing sight of the whole range of aristocratic life. The result is that the old, oversimplified picture of absolutism as a largely uniform European phenomenon melts away, and regional peculiarities gain more prominence. The new picture is certainly more complicated, less distinct, less readily made out, far harder to take in or indeed to teach, but it is more lively and more real, and - what matters most - it is true and in keeping with all the historical facts. In French historical research the emphasis has often been placed on unpolitical social history, while German historians continue to ask political questions and to point to the enduring forces of the feudal state which survived into the age of absolutism. We are beginning to get a total view of the continuity of regional life and its social structures. The multiplicity of intermediary powers, the self-governing towns and manors, the middleclass magistrates and aristocratic landowners, the autonomous regional associations of German knighthood, the English counties, the Polish regions and the Hungarian counties - all these appear as successful partners or opponents of the crown in its laborious advance. Even in France, the model of European absolutism, the importance of the representative institutions of the ancien regime in the regions is now more clearly appreciated. Despite the institutions of the royal intendants, there was a lack of national executive organs in the provinces to carry out thoroughly decisions made at the centre. Historians even speak of a reverse development, of a social regionalization of the institutions created by the central authority; by this is meant their infiltration by local officials with corporative - or perhaps rather regional - attitudes. Absolute monarchy was in no position to abrogate the traditional political privileges of the aristocratic society it had taken into its service, or to abolish the considerable rights of local government. Characteristic of European absolutism is the fight put up by privilege and prescriptive right against any modern state legislation and against the principle of Roman law which gave sole legislative authority to the prince. The middle class did not appear everywhere as an independent political force beside the nobility; however, 262

The structure of the absolute state the urban communities, like the manors, belong to the pouvoirs intermediaires which Montesquieu described in 1750 as subsidiary pillars of every absolute monarchy. Both the nobles and the town councils opposed the sovereignty of the state whenever their rights in provincial or local government were threatened, and they often joined forces against it, though the absolute rulers knew how to play off the divergent interests of town and country against each other. Despite their efforts these local forces were unable to halt the general progress of state expansion. This great process has again become an object of historical research, though from a new angle. More clearly than in the past, one distinguishes three levels on which the state evolved. On the highest level of the composite state, made up of originally independent principalities, the prince and his officials largely succeeded in unravelling the intricate web of feudal authorities and actually achieved a concentration of the fragmented political forces. There was a gradual tightening up of central authority which was produced by disengaging it from regional and local influences; it was not a question of bringing local authorities into submission. There existed a plurality of rights and authorities at different levels which were not dependent on or delegated by the central authority. Only in theory was there such a thing as 'centralization', a term commonly used to designate and describe the expansion and assertion of central state authority down to the lowest level. In reality monarchic authority had only a partial influence on what came to be known as the provincial level and hardly any, or none at all, in local government. Here there was virtually complete local autonomy in the fields of justice, the churches, the schools, the administration, and the police. It was only in the age of enlightened despotism that this area was invaded by central government. Like most of the terms we use, 'centralization', belonging to the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, is not really appropriate for characterizing the period before 1800. It implies a complete bureaucratic hierarchy; but the absolutist hierarchy was incomplete at the lower end. European absolutism was by no means a fully organized system of government with an unbroken chain of command and delegated rights and authorities radiating from the centre. The personal rule of the prince, cabinet government, or, in lieu of these, government by the prime minister continued to lack any political authority at the local level. The only exception was in the prince's own lands, the Amter and domains. The bureaucratic organization of the Amter, as the older system of monarchic government separated from the centre, lost much of its importance. The continuing powers of the estates in local affairs thus makes nonsense of the nineteenth-century idea of delegated powers, according to which all rights derived from the supreme authority in the state. At one time the development of modern Europe was seen in terms of 263

The constitutional development of the early modern state 'progress' achieved by centralist absolute monarchy. Today stress is laid on the continuity of representative institutions and on the nature of the monarchia mixta discussed by contemporary political theorists. Sweden, with its repeated switches between monarchic and representative government during the age of absolutism, affords a particularly good example of the struggle between unbalanced social and political forces. The old aristocratic and corporate forces of Europe thus lived on beside the organization of the early modern state until well into the eighteenth century. The present-day picture of historical development shows up the confirmations of local privileges and corporative liberties, the jura et Hbertates statuum by the absolute ruler in a different light. They are no longer simply residual rights and privileges left over from an earlier territorial constitution, but a complex of genuine national rights designed principally for local authorities - the regional nobility and the urban corporations. In this area the individual or corporative authorities had control of the land and those who worked it, rights of patronage, and police activity, without any interference from the new administration of the sovereign state. The picture drawn here is in the first place more appropriate to the peripheral states of Europe (to use Hintze's terminology) to England, Sweden, Denmark, Poland and Hungary. However, it is finding increasing confirmation at the centre, in those states which were successors to the Carolingian Empire, namely France and the German Empire. Absolute monarchy was always so attached to law that in principle it never arbitrarily attacked, let alone abolished, existing authorities lower down the political scale, but rather gradually overlaid them with its own institutions, thus undermining them by its own positive achievements and seeking to replace them. When assessing the achievements of European absolutism, we must continue to start from the unification of the composite states comprising formerly independent territories, each with its own government and legal system, and the assertion of national identity in the military and diplomatic jostling of the competing European states. Absolute monarchy won through in the struggle against the intricate mass of feudal rights in the sense that it cleared the ground and set up a new and just order in the interests not only of the ruling house, but of its subjects, in order to tackle the pressing problems posed by the growth in population, communication, and the economy. We can arrive at a fair judgment only by simultaneously taking into account the continuance of the old corporative forms of government, controlled largely by the aristocracy, and the new dynamism of absolutist rule. In historical research the old and the new must be seen together, the view from below combined with the view from above. This twofold approach reveals a lively interplay between the older forms of European 264

The structure of the absolute state aristocracy and the new forms of legal, economic and military life resulting from collaboration between the prince and the upper bourgeoisie. Absolutism achieved its aims by two principal means, both of its own creation - monarchic discipline and modern state authority. It countered the conservative principle of feudal liberties by introducing a new rigour into all activities in public and private life. This process has received insufficient attention. Max Weber saw rationalization as the dominant tendency in the political, social, and economic development of Europe, especially in the era of absolutism. I would rather speak of the disciplining of society as the basic fact and guiding principle of absolutism, for, as we have seen, centralization and institutionalization, which are essential ingredients of rationalization, can only partly account for the expansion of the power of the state. The prime cause was something different, something which radically transformed the state, society and the nation. What we are talking about is a structural phenomenon which transcended all the three levels we mentioned earlier and had a general effect on the individual citizen. Whereas investigations undertaken in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries emphasized - indeed over-emphasized - the military and the bureaucracy, present-day research lays greater - perhaps excessive - stress on the areas of corporative life, both aristocratic and bourgeois. Both approaches have essentially the same starting point, the older one concentrating on the political life of the state, the newer one attending more to social life. Ultimately they are both concerned with assessing the effectiveness or ineffectiveness of institutions and official bodies. Of profound significance, it seems to me, are the spiritual, moral, and psychological changes which social discipline produced in the individual, whether he was engaged in politics, army life, or trade. These changes were far more fundamental, far more enduring, than the institutional changes in politics and administration which, whether acknowledged or denied, are what chiefly interest the two contending approaches. The establishment of social discipline was the effective achievement of absolutism. To justify this thesis we must retrace our steps a little. When the feudal order proved inadequate and was falling apart, early absolutism strove to erect a new order founded on a new system of law, while retaining as much as possible of the old laws and liberties. For there is no doubt that absolute monarchy felt itself bound by divine and natural law. It was a moral and legal monarchie limitee in the sense that it respected corporative privileges and recognized the fundamental laws, the leges fundamentales, governing rights of accession, disposal of royal lands, and changes in territorial sovereignty. Absolute monarchs - even Louis XIV, whose political 265

The constitutional development of the early modern state testament we may cite here - acknowledged their first governmental duty to be the 'conservation et defension du peuple', however they may have understood it. Even when they acted in an authoritarian and autocratic manner, they were bound to seek guidance from advisers, while retaining the sole right of decision. In theory, and in practice generally, they were clearly and consciously anxious not to be seen as despots or tyrants. The constitutional theories of the time also concerned themselves with the proper relation between compulsion and freedom, necessity and legality. Uppermost at first was the question of subordination, resulting from the ever sharper division between the ruler and the ruled. The principle of command and obedience, borrowed from antiquity to serve the new political order, replaced the feudal obligation of reciprocal loyalty command and obedience in the sense of a mutual obligation between the sovereign and the people. The medieval relationship of status, upon which feudal loyalty and vassalage rested, was superseded by the contractual thinking of early modern times. For the almost unrealizable concept of feudal loyalty could not possibly help in mastering the changed situation in public life. Relations based on command and obedience, conceived as deriving from contractual agreement, created clear functions of superiority and subordination, but they also presupposed a degree of discipline. The real extension and intensification of absolutism arose from - or at least in - the religious and civil wars. The confessional conflicts threatened the very existence of the states of Europe. France, which was to become the model of absolutism, was affected particularly severely. From 1562 onwards it endured thirty years of civil war which was set in motion by the split in the church, but developed into a political struggle both between the confessions and between the crown and the estates of the realm. The age of civil wars brought an inextricable confusion of religion and politics. At any time the confessional point of view might imply or complicate purely political questions. Decisions in matters of religion were made on grounds of pure expediency. Deep religious emotions affected individuals and groups, united or divided territories and populations, cutting through families as well as nations. Theology held undisputed sway over men's lives. The layman was more firmly committed to his confession than any voter now is to his party, and the religious strife cut deeply into the life of individuals. Since each side counted on victory, its supporters, stirred to the highest pitch of fervour, broke all bounds of order and morality, and fear dominated the age. The daily threat to body and soul, the growing ferocity brought by decades of war with their legacy of suspicion, hatred and cruelty, the confusion of religious principles with motives of political power, engulfed the authority of the state. Religious co-existence was a problem within the state and between states. 266

The structure of the absolute state Attempts at internal solutions were made by treaties between the confessional parties containing mutual guarantees, but these were largely unsuccessful. Success came from quite a different quarter, from the purely political quarter, from a group of philosophers and statesmen who set politics above religion. These men pressed for a 'de-theologization' of public life and political thinking in order to remove the effects, and perhaps even the causes, of religious strife, and to restrict the political influence of the theologians, who were for ever mixing ideology and power. This de-theologization could take place only if there was a source of power to rely on - the absolute state which had to become a reality. The call for a strong state which could keep the religious parties in check came from those circles which stood outside the religious factions, notably humanist circles - lawyers and statesmen, legal theorists and moralists, who set up the powerful Roman state as a pattern for the early modern state. The need for a strong, disciplined standing army and a disciplined civil service imbued with modern political ideas was asserted as an escape from the internal dilemma. Militarism and bureaucracy thus came to be closely connected in the sixteenth and seventeenth century with the de-theologizing of the world. The problem of religious co-existence was solved essentially through politics, which took over from theology as the dominant factor in public life. The rise of the institutional state was the outcome of a problem which religion had created but could not solve; it was a triumph for reason of state over theology. In the chanceries of state the clerics were gradually replaced by clerks. This is what the humanist lawyer Gentili meant in 1588 when he admonished the theologians with the words 'Silete, theologi, in munere alieno' ('Theologians, keep quiet where you do not belong'). The process of de-theologization ended with an acceleration in politicization. Nothing characterizes the situation better than the words uttered by Francis Clary on the problems of the civil war. He was the Advocate General of the Grand Conseil, and represented Henry IV, who had been won over to the party of the Politiques. In the middle of a speech in French, he gave in Latin the watchword of the day: 'Non crudelitas, sed disciplina.' He was calling for an end to the mounting cruelty of the civil war, of dogmatic and ideological strife, and its replacement by discipline, subordination, and the restoration of order through command and obedience. The theoretical basis for the re-establishment of state authority was provided by contemporary humanism through direct recourse to Roman notions of state and law. It is not for nothing that the seventeenth century has been called the 'Neo-Roman' century. It was not aesthetic pleasure in ancient literature and philosophy that had this effect, but pragmatism and necessity. Neostoicism was a practical political movement which renewed the old Stoic values, the philosophy of the will, strict education 267

The constitutional development of the early modern state of the self, and discipline. The revival of the Roman political values made auctoritas, temperantia, constantia, and disciplina central concepts of the age. Auctoritas was defined as a reverent and respectful opinion of a ruler and his office among his subjects and among foreigners. It is, so to speak, an early form of public opinion which the sovereign had to try to win over as the moral justification for ruling. Auctoritas, just as under the Roman principate, had to create respect for the personality of the sovereign, his superior experience and special knowledge, and his sense of responsibility towards the new political order. Closely linked with it in the new scale of values was disciplina. This now became the main support of the development which was to guarantee the new order in the shape of the absolutist state. Bureaucracy, militarism, and mercantilism were all manifestations of social discipline in particular spheres, different ways of serving the state. Ministers and officials, officers and soldiers, entrepreneurs and artisans, in fact all the subjects of the state were disciplined in their work and their attitudes. The change from corporative, regionally secured liberty to the modern political order, from medieval feudal rule to the early modern form of national government, called for a general streamlining - of the mechanism of government and the internal agencies of the state, of the churches, now linked to the state and often controlled by it, of the state-organized armies and the state-controlled economy. This meant a conflict between the disciplina civilis et ecclesiastica, militaris et oeconomica and the earlier

libertates et jura, the autonomous rights and liberties and the excessive licentia of the old system of privileges. True, endeavours had been made in the same direction from the fifteenth century onwards in church and state, the economy and the military. These were now taken up by the absolute monarchies, which sought to bring them to completion by means of a systematic structural change. To Machiavelli, a constitutional pragmatist, such aims are a central concern - the imposition of discipline upon the citizens in the interest of the community. The respublica, guided by virtu ordinata, must provide discipline and order through a constant process of education. Finally, the idea of discipline manifested itself in the army of the Florentine city-state. In this determination to fortify the civic spirit in the state, the citizens' militia was intended to play a crucial role. A Frenchman has recently observed of Richelieu's generation that it learned 'to discipline itself without abdicating its dignity'.2 Certainly absolutism maintains the dignity of state society; it enhances dignity and authority to the level of supreme majesty, but it requires discipline of everyone. The daily life of Louis XIV was strictly ordered from the moment of waking to that of retiring. No service was more disciplined than that of 2

Georges Picot, Cardin Le Bret {1558-1655) et la Doctrine de la Souverainite. Paris 1950, p. 212.

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The structure of the absolute state the court, with all the constraints of its strict ceremonial. These had a justification in terms of moral philosophy: they were felt to be a necessary support in daily life for weak, unstable men. All social intercourse was governed by strict order; this, however severe, was not seen as slavery, but as a moral stiffening which prevented one from falling. Contemplating the seventeenth-century picture of man - in religious terms a prey to sin, in philosophical terms a victim of his passions - one begins to appreciate the extent of the preoccupation with discipline. When the structure of the individual household, originally the first level of public authority, was collapsing, when the power of church institutions was questioned or set aside, the time had come for the early modern state to restore order. The period from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century was seen by contemporaries as one of discipline and education amid socio-political change. Today we see it as one of religious and political crises, in which the very foundations and principles of social relations were being shifted. The periods of early absolutism and of absolutism proper saw a plethora of regulations and prescriptions for the conduct of public and private life. These set the tone of the age. To the ordinances emanating from the church were added others drawn up by the state or the town; their aim was to control and regulate daily life. One might cite the severe discipline laid down in the church ordinance of Geneva, which served as a pattern for Calvinists everywhere. In a German Calvinist ordinance of 1582, for instance, it is stated that the office of preacher consists in prayer, preaching, church discipline, and order. And it is expressly stated that there is no conflict between spiritual and temporal discipline. Among the Puritans this idea led to the strictest self-inspection and obedience to divine reason. No less strict was school discipline, and the relentless mental drill was continued at the university. 'Herein lies extreme discipline, pursued with the utmost rigour', we are told in the school ordinances of the seventeenth century. The philosophical systems of the absolutist period display an inner discipline, and even spelling and the language itself were subjected to the same rigour, though not with the same success as was achieved by the Academie frangaise in Paris. After the experiences of the religious wars in France and Germany, and confronted by the threat of civil war in England, Thomas Hobbes, in his constitutional theory, saw human society differently from Aristotle and traditional western thought: it was founded, not on the natural sociability of man, but on the formative power of discipline: ' Ad societatem homo aptus non natura, sed disciplina' ('Man is not fitted for society by nature, but by discipline', De Cive I, i). Man was disciplined with regard to his desires and the way he expressed himself. He sought to attain self-control, which was the highest goal. He disciplined nature too, with the artistically clipped trees and hedges of 269

The constitutional development of the early modern state seventeenth-century parks and gardens. The same process found expression in the police ordinances of the towns, the territories, and the Empire. The very concept of' police' sums up the process: the later academic study of 'police', as the science of civil administration in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, aimed to provide rules for good behaviour and order in the expanding field of public life. The territorial ordinances help us to understand the motives behind all this. At first the aim was apparently to preserve and restore good Christian living and respectability, but later they made deep inroads into private life, laying down rules and educative prescriptions in every conceivable area. The idea of general welfare and good ' police' was closely linked with the notion of discipline. From the sixteenth century onwards, the population of the well policed and well ordered state, especially the lower classes, were educated to lead a disciplined life. Large parts of the state ordinances were devoted to rules for economic life. True, the corporations and towns already laid down many rules for production procedure, but in the seventeenth century industry and manufactures came within the reach of the central government. The inculcation of a work ethic was broadened into education for orderly and methodical work. One might cite the penitentiaries and workhouses with their double purpose, educative and economic, founded on bourgeois initiative and then expanded by the governments of early absolutism. There is a very close connection between the mercantilist movement and economic discipline. In international relations too we see the same tendency. The creation of the Jus Europaeum Publicum, especially the great achievement of humanizing and limiting military law within the framework of international law, is entirely in keeping with the spirit of discipline, which found its most obvious expression in military life. Karl Mannheim rightly regarded the army of the absolute state as the precursor and pioneer of modern social techniques for systematically transforming whole groups of people. 'The army of the absolute states was the first great institution which not only devised rational methods for creating uniform mass behaviour artificially by means of military discipline and other devices for overcoming fear, but also used these methods for educating large masses of men (who were taken for the most part from the lower classes) to act, and if possible to think, in the way prescribed.'3 In the army of the absolutist state the 'sociopsychological forms of obedience' and bourgeois-monarchic discipline were established by training and drill. But it was not just the army that was put through its paces on the parade ground: the same rigour prevailed in administrative, economic, moral and spiritual spheres as well. 3

Karl Mannheim, Man and Society in an Age of Reconstruction, London 1940, p. 255. 270

The structure of the absolute state For military life we find a comprehensive and incisive definition of the new concept of discipline in the Politics of Justus Lipsius, written at the end of the sixteenth century (liber V, cap. 13: exercitium, ordo, coerctio, exempla). His broad concept of discipline, which brings together constant activity, rational thought, moral moderation, and example (both cautionary and encouraging), reveals the whole of the absolutist programme and approach. The rigorous process of regulating and streamlining, the call for active engagement, embraces Max Weber's concept of rationalization, but it is far broader, combining moral restraint and energetic conduct, asceticism and action. Most essential as it was in the army, the principle also characterized the bureaucracy. ' Ambition, diligence, scrupulous exactitude, and a keen sense of responsibility replace gentlemanly indolence, benevolent indulgence, and leisurely casualness.'4 This is how Otto Hintze, the German constitutional historian, described the administration of early absolutism over seventy years ago. The climax and culmination of the absolutist trend towards complete discipline came with the reforms of Joseph II between 1780 and 1790. Every one of his political, economic, ecclesiastical, and educational measures was aimed at the industrious, obedient, able, and disciplined subject. They can all be subsumed under the rubric of 'social discipline', for this concept provides the basis of all his reforms. The disciplining of society in the age of absolutism may perhaps be compared with another great process in the history of the modern state, that of democratization in the nineteenth century. True, this grew out of the freedom movement, which was a reaction to absolutism. It has little to do with discipline and appears hostile to it. Yet, beside freedom of information and debate, democracy presupposes discipline on the part of the citizen, a discipline which serves the common good. The process we have been discussing has received little attention, yet it is a prerequisite for the fundamental democratization of the bourgeois community, for the modern state and its society. The introduction of a basic discipline is a general process, consciously or unconsciously promoted by absolute monarchy, which took place in the most varied spheres. It brought a radical restructuring of political and social life. It was not a process confined to the state, the church, the army, or the economy. It first manifested itself in the power and authority of the early modern absolutist state. The state took over areas which were previously independent of it and extended the sphere of government by assuming new tasks in the expanding society of the time; simultaneously 4

O. Hintze, Act a Borussica. Behordenorganisation und allgemeine Staatsverwaltung. Bd. vi, i Einleitende Darstellung der Behordenorganisation und allgemeinen Verwaltung in Preussen beim Regierungsantritt Friedrichs II, Berlin 1901, p. 7. 271

The constitutional development of the early modern state there was a change of attitude towards the state, a new political view of national institutions and their representatives. The spiritual process was no less important than the material process. Thus there arose the pious, almost obsessive devotion to the state, which was attacked, in the name of the individual and personal liberty, by the spiritual, political, social, and economic revolution of 1789. The post-absolutist state was established in the midst of controversy over the undesirable consequences of political discipline, though without forgoing - or being able to forgo - other achievements of the secular process which produced it. In one sentence Proudhon described how the anarchist saw it all: 'Being governed means being under police supervision, being inspected, spied upon, directed, buried under laws, regulated, hemmed in, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, assessed, censored, commanded.. .noted, registered, captured, appraised, stamped, surveyed, evaluated, taxed, patented, licensed, authorized, recommended, admonished, prevented, reformed, aligned, and punished in every action, every transaction, every movement.' These are the undesirable results with which we still have to come to terms.

The following bibliography lists works which have appeared since the Second World War and are discussed in this chapter. Reports of work in progress H. M. Cam, A. Marongiu and G. Stokl, Recent work and present views on the origins and development of representative assemblies (Relazioni del X. Congresso Internazionale di Scienze Storiche, Rome 1955, Vol. 1, Florence, n.d.). F. Hartung and R. Mousnier, Quelques problemes concernant la monarchie absolue (ibid. Vol. iv, 1955). E. Molnar, Lesfondements economiques et sociaux de Vabsolutisme (Rapports du XII e Congres international des sciences historiques, Vienna 1965, Vol. iv). W. Hubatsch, 'Das Zeitalter des Absolutismus in heutiger Sicht', Archiv fur Kulturgeschichte 35 (1953). S, Skalweit, 'Das Zeitalter des Absolutismus als Forschungsproblem', Deutsche Vierteljahrschrift 35 (1961). R. Wittram,' Formen und Wandlungen des europaischen Absolutismus,' in Glaube und Geschichte, Festschrift fur F. Gogarten, Giessen 1948, pp. 278-99. Monographs, articles, etc. F. L. Carsten (ed.), The Ascendancy of France, 1648 to 1688 (vol. v of The New Cambridge Modern History), Cambridge 1961. O. B runner, Adeliges Landleben und europdischer Geist, Salzburg 1949. id., Neue Wege der Verfassungs- und Sozialgeschichte, 2nd ed., Gottingen 1968. 272

The structure of the absolute state D. Gerhard, 'Regionalismus und standisches Wesen als ein Grundthema europaischer Geschichte', HZ 174 (1952). F. Hartung, 'L'Etat c'est moi', HZ 169 (1949X repr. in id., Staatsbildende Krdfte der Neuzeit, Berlin 1961. J. R. Major, Representative Institutions in Renaissance France, 1421-155Q, Madison, Wise. i960. K. Mannheim, Man and Society in an Age of Reconstruction, London 1940. W. Naf, 'Friihformen des "Modernen Staates" im Spatmittelalter', HZ 171 K. von Raumer,' Absoluter Staat, korporative Libertat, personliche Freiheit', HZ 183 (i957)N. Runeby, Monarchia Mixta. Maktfordelningsdebatt i Sverige under den tidigare stormaktstiden, Stockholm 1962. R. Schnur, Die franzosischen Juristen im konfessionellen Burgerkrieg des 16. Jfahrhunderts, Berlin 1962. Other recent studies are mentioned in R. Vierhaus,' Absolutismus' in Sorvjetsystem unddemokratische Gesellschaft 1, Freiburg i.B.-Basel-Vienna 1966; also T. Schieder (ed.), Handbuch der europdischen Geschichte, vol. 4, 'Europa im Zeitalter des Absolutismus und der Aufklarung', Stuttgart 1968, and vol. 3, 'Die Entstehung des neuzeitlichen Europa', 1971.

273

Index

Abo, University of 112 absolutism 6, 36, 44, 70, 74, 114, 129, 131, 157, 171, 184, 197, 218, 220, 234, 242, 2 8 5 -73; incipient 6, 35, 57, 131; early 17, 237, 265; moderate form of 40, 123, 164; study of 260-5 academies 251, 256, 269; Academie du Palais 106 administration 127, 220, 260, 270 advisers 45, 49, 59, 124, i92f, 232, 266; Privy Council 119, 122, 216, 218, 231; War Council 231 Aelian 4, 78, 117 'Amter' (offices) i88f, 225, 263 Aerssens, Cornelis 60, 62, 77, 108 Agricola, Georgius 2f. alliance 47, 51, 211, 245, 247, 250-2, 254; see also federation Alsace 227 Altdorf, University of 98, 122 Althusius, Johannes 57, 68, n o , 130, 150, 206, 259 Alva, Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, duke of 16, 26

America 119, 152 Amsterdam, University of 91, 94 Anabaptists i4of. Arcerius, Sixtus 4, 78 Archimedes 2 Arias Montano, Benito 60, 102 Aristotle and Aristotelianism 5, 37, 4of., 70, 87, 9if., 94, 96f., 99, 130, 155, 164, 269 army 72, 220, 260, 268; see also military popular (soldiers from the prince's subjects) 51, 72f, 74, 83, 85 levies 74, 222, 224-6, 22gf. 'Allgemeine Wehrpflicht' (conscription) 87, 223, 231, 238 mercenaries 52, 53, 77, 83, 113 mercenary army, troops 17, 72, 73 reservists 52 army leader 30, 55, 82 general staff 79, 88

officers 29, 8if. officer corps 66, 68, 160; Prussian 129, 217, 239 cadet companies 239 standing army see miles perpetuus

Arnisaeus, Henning 94, 206 Arumaeus, Dominicus 206 asceticism 69, 71, 72, 127, 271 Austria(-Hungary) 93f, 99-101, 2i7f., 226f, 236, 247, 252-6 authority (auctoritas) 40, 43f., 47, 50, 68, 82, 121, 136, 157; state 72, 196, 265; auctoritas et disciplina 6, 131, 161, 268

Bacon, Francis 116 Barclay, William 60 Barlaeus, Caspar 94 Baroque 8, 14, 59, 95f, 160; literature 37, 67f., 96, 165; philosophy 37 Baudius, Dominicus 64, 91, 117, 124 Bavaria 99f, 218, 236, 255 Becher, Johann Joachim 38 Bellay, Guillaume du 73

Berlin 119, 123, 124, 255 Bernegger, Matthias 97f., n o Bethune, Philippe de 107 Beza, Theodore 144 Billon, J. de 80-3 Bingham, John 117 Blount, Sir Thomas Pope 117 Bodin, Jean 44, 47, 48, 50, 54, 57f, 62, 70, 74f, n o , 114, 116, 130, 148, 206, 258f, Boeder, Johann Heinrich 92, 98, iO9f. Bombelli, Raffaello 2 Borkenau, Franz 32 Bose, Johann Andreas 98, 117 Boxhornius, Marcus Zuerius 92, 94, 96 Brandenburg-Prussia 69, 87, n 8-31, 177-9, 183, 217, 236, 247, 252-7; electoral Brandenburg 198, 246f; 'Allgemeines Landrecht' 128, 217; General War Commissariat i2if.; military reforms 87-9

274

Index Bryce, James 243 Bude, Guillaume 33, 136, 141 Bullinger, Heinrich 141 bureaucracy 44f., 72, 129, i6of., 183, 216, 220, 234, 237, 242, 260, 267^, 271; Prussian 70, 119, 121, 129,217 burghers (bourgeois) see middle class Caesar, Caius Julius 24-6, 79 Calvin, John 321"., 42, 44, 136, 140-2 Calvinism 8, 17, 32-4, 40, 64, 69-72, 76, 113, 119, 124, 135, 140, 143, 150, 183, 205, 269 Cambridge, University of 115, 117 Camden, William 60 cameralism 58, 127, 196 capitalism 92, 151 Carl August, duke of Sachsen-Weimar 256f. Carsten, Francis L. 194 Casaubon, Isaac 34, 60, 78, 117 Cassirer, Ernst 24, 106 Catholicism 17, 33, 63f., 69, 103, 218 Cato, M. Porcius the Elder 3 Charles V, Emperor 148, 202, 212, 241 Charles I, king of England iisf. Charron, Pierre 33, 81, 106-8 Christian IV, king of Denmark 113, 175 Christianity 15, 28, 33, 41, 51 Christina, queen of Sweden iO9f, 112, 173, 182 church 97, i n , 146, 156, 215, 261, 268f.; ordinances 17, 53, 269; patronage 193 Cicero, Marcus Tullius 40, 52, 54f., 86, 89, i n , 115, 126 citizen 55, 86; civic republic 114; civic virtues 127

civil service see bureaucracy civil war 13, 26, 55f., 61, 70, 86, 266f Clapmarius, Arnold 98, 122 classicism 88 Clausewitz, Carl von 88 clergy 93, 100, 160, 189 Cocceji, Heinrich von 127 Columella, L. Junius Moderatus 3 Comenius, Johann Amos 62 commerce 43, 66, 157 Commines, Philippe de 62 commissariat, commissioners 129, 217, 233, 235, 237 Conring, Hermann 99, n o , 117, 207 contract; based on status 140; with the ruler 138, i49f, 166-86, 205, 266; private i38f., 141 Contzen, Adam 71, 99f. Coornhert, Dirck Volckertszoon 45, 63

Corneille, Pierre 38, 106 cosmopolitanism 28 Counter-Reformation 15, 93, 135, 205 court, the prince's 59, 100, 164, 188; preachers 121; Court or Office Chambers (Amtsoder Hofkammern) 216, 231; consistory 193, 216 Covarruvias a Leyva, Antonio de 60, 136, 259 Cromwell, Oliver 86, 18if Cruso, John 80, 117 Cunaeus, Petrus 9if., 94, 96 Curtius (Q. Curtius Rufus) 40, 46 Dallington, Sir Robert iisf. defence associations (Landrettungswerke) 83, 222, 227-33; see also territorial militia; Swiss defence 114 democracy, democratic 7, 135, 137, 154, 172, 187, 197, 271 Denmark 93, 97, ii2f, i75f, 183, 254, 264 Descartes, Rene 8, 38, io6f. despotism 61, 258; enlightened 57, 131, 261, 263 'de-theologizing' 151, 154, 267 dichotomies 95, 115 diligence 24, 127 Dilthey, Wilhelm 14, 35, 130 Diophant of Alexandria 2 Dioscorides, Pedanios 2 discipline 7, 17, 30, 35f, 68f., 129, i58f., 164, 196, 242, 253, 259, 265, 266-72; concept of 50-4, 81, i n , 271; command and obedience 157, 266f.; disciplina militaris 4, 51-4, 73, 79-83, 87, 239, 27of. 'social disciplining' 158, 265, 268, 271 dogmatism 30, 33, 64 Dohna, Burggrafen zu i24f, 128, 228, 232 domains 182, 19 if, 263 Dousa, Jan 17, 34, 60 drill, 4, 43, 66; manual (Exerzierreglement) 125, 230; mental drill 269 dualism: Austro-Prussian 241, 254; of the confessions 246, 247, 254; dualistic corporative constitution 47, 73, 138, 189-91, 193, 214, 234 Duisburg, University of 121 duty 68, 121, 123, 125 economy 8, 66, 69, i27f., 268, 270 education 7f, 42, 59f, 67, 79, 90, 100, 104, 127, 136, 159, 164, 269, 270 'electoral capitulation' 138, 148, 150, 168, 170, 180, 182, 202f, 209, 246 electors 200-2

275

Index Elias, Norbert 164 Elzevier, publisher 66, 94, 112 emotions 18, 30, 32, 35, 85, 104, 108, 164 Empire, the Holy Roman 2, 179-85, 241-57, 264 Emperor 199-213, 252-4 and estates 205, 24if., 257 imperial arch-chancellor (Kurerzkanzler) 209, 256 imperial circles (Reichskreise) 212, 234, 236, 246, 25if. imperial cities 159, 2o8f. imperial estates 142, 199-220, 221-40 jus armorum 223, 234, 245 jus belli ac pacis 219 imperial diet 157, 200-12, 242, 244, 246, 251, 253, 255 corpus catholicorum and corpus evangelicorum 246

imperial court chancery (Reichshofkanzlei) 2o8f. imperial courts 243, 256 imperial chamber (Reichskammergericht) 208, 210, 246 Aulic Council (Reichshofrat) 208, 246f. imperial army 212, 251 imperial wars 247, 251, 253, 255 England 3, 8, 15, 38, 66, 74, 77, 86, 91, 114-17, 129, 135, 149, 1721*., 180, 181-6, 254, 257, 258, 262, 264; translation into English 13, 57, 114; English counties 262 Enlightenment 6, 14, 38, 53, 126 Epictetus 31, 33, 86, 126 Epicurus 126 equality 40, 48; in legal status 44, 68, 197 Erasmus of Rotterdam 8, 37, 51 estates (representative assemblies, institutions) 7, 17, 42, 47, 84, i n , 128, 138, 157, 169-71, 187-98, 259, 260, 261; see also the entries Empire and territories; fiscal organization I92f; grievances 170, 190, 207 ethic 7, 43-5, 72f.; military 5, 50, 53, 79-82 Euclid 2 fate (fatum) 22f, 42 federations 68, 247-50, 255; see also alliance; Confederation of the Rhine (Rheinbund) 247-9 i League of German Princes 244, 256 Ferdinand II, Emperor 212 feudalism, feudal society 32, 136, 138-40, 150, 154, 157, 182, 209, 265; feudal state 211, 262

276

finance 36, 66, 138; 'finance state' 189, 191-4, 197 foreign policy 49, 211, 219, 260 France 3, 8, 15, 17, 33f., 37f., 39, 66, 69, 74, 75, 77, 81, 83, 91, 105-9, 129, 130, i35f-> H3f-> H7, 149, i7if-, i79f-> 185, 187, 201, 228, 235, 244-7, 249-51, 254^, 257, 262, 264; translation into French 3, 13, ^jf.; Massacre of St Bartholomew 26, 39, 74, 144 Francis I, king of France 73, 74, 201 Francke, August Hermann 122, 127 Franeker, University of 92, 121, 180 Frankfurt on the Oder, University of 101, ii9f., 122, 126

Frederick III/I, elector of Brandenburg/king of Prussia 99, 123 Frederick II, king of Prussia 128, 217, 235, 243, *54f. Frederick Henry of Orange 78, 120, 121 Frederick William, elector of Brandenburg (the Great Elector) 97, 120-5, !77-9> 247 Frederick William I, king of Prussia 125-7, 217, 238, 253 free will 23, 29, 35, 42, i n Freinsheim, Johann 98, iO9f., 128 'frontier, law of the' 222, 226, 235, 251 Galen (Claudius Galenus) 1 George Frederick of Baden 85 Germany 3f., 15, 17, 38, 39, 66, 71, 74, 87-9, 90, 91, 93, 96-101, 130, 142, 149, 187-98, 199-220, 221-40, 262; translation into German 13, 57, 73 gilds 157 Gottingen, University of 99, 208 Golden Bull, the 180, 2oof, 204, 210, 213 government 127, 186, 260; local 160, 261, 262-4; by cabinet (Kabinettsregierung) 45, 216, 263; in council (Regierung im Rat) 45, 216; 'form of government' 171-86 Gracian, Baltasar 102, 104, 126 Graevius, Johann Georg 122, 128 grammar schools 67, 120, 164 Granvelle, cardinal i5f. Great Elector see Frederick William, elector of Brandenburg Greifswald, University of 96f. Groningen, University of i2if. Grotius, Hugo 8, 34, 36f., 38, 51, 58, 60, 62, 64> 69> 75, 79**-, 90, 92, 95, 1 0 9 ^ " 2 , 117, 123, 127, 130, 151 Gruterius, Janus 78, 117, 124 Guicciardini, Francesco 5, 16, 43, 62, 116

Index John Sigismund, elector of Brandenburg 119,

Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden 62, 86,

109-n, 174, 176 Hall, Joseph 32, 116 Halle, University of 99, 101, 121, 124, 126-8 Hanover 2i8f., 255 Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich 88 Heidelberg, University of 78, n o , 122, 123, 124 Heinsius, Daniel 34, 62, 64, 91,96, 109,117,124 Helmstedt, University of 99, 122, 207 Henry IV, king of France 37, 58, 63, 78, 105, 108, 151, 267 Henry, Prince of Wales 115 Herborn, University of 143, 150 Herder, Johann Gottfried 256 Hesse 84f. hierarchy 53f, 161 Hintze, Otto 69, 119, 139, 178, 185, 187, i92f., 194, 198, 221, 223, 264, 271 history 22, 24-7, 31, 6if., 71, 97, i3of., 148; and experience 39, 43, 75, 91; historiography 38, 70 Hobbes, Thomas 8, ii4f., i36f., 152, 154, 168, 269 Holy Roman Empire see Empire honnete homme 130 honour 82f., 86, 121 Hooft, Pieter Corneliszoon 94 Hooker, Richard 150 Huber, Ulric 92 Huguenots 34, 46, 73, 143-5, 147, 151, 166 humanity 9, 40, 86, i n , 128; human dignity 9, 82; humanizing 36, 58 Hungary 58, 97, 101, 264 index 29, 46, 64 Ingolstadt, University of 100 inquisition 16, 46, 99, i02f. intensity (and rationality) 7, 36, 69, 70 intervention 47, i n , 121 Italy 1-3, 28, 66, 73, 74, 75, iO4f.; translation into Italian 13, 57, 73; Italian humanism 18, 24 James I, king of England 168 Jansonius, publisher 112 Jena, University of i6f., 80, 97f., 101, 122, 206 Jesuitism, Jesuits 8, 15, 17, 33, 40, 48, 54, 63, 64, 70, 99f., 102, 105, 107 Jews 196 Johann Casimir of the Palatinate 228 John of Austria, Don 16, 24 John VII, count of Nassau 50, 77, 83f., 87,

228-30, 232 John Maurice, count of Nassau-Siegen 120

124 Jonson, Ben 117 Joseph II, Emperor 254-6, 271 jurisprudence 38; jurists see lawyers justice 44, 193, 246 Kant, Immanuel 88 knights see nobility land tenure (Gutsherrschaft) 189, 232; landowners (Junkers) 193 language societies 124, 251 La Noue, Francois de 50, 70, 73f., 75 Lapide, Hippolithus a 207, 250 La Primaudaye, Pierre de 73, 75 La Ramee, Pierre de 73 law 8, 43f., 47, 265 courts of 220 constitutional 136, 145, 204-8, 244 international 51, 270 natural 36, 38, 44, 121, i27f., 144, 148, 151, 168, 259 divine and natural 259, 265 natural and international 58, 75, 80, 90, n o , 151

public 92, 165 legal study 92, 191, 193 leges fundamentales i8of., 182, 265 lawyers i59f., 162, 164 legibus solutus 148, 258

Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm 8, 60, 98, 207, 235, Leiden, University of 15-17, 34, 36, 62f., 64, 65, 67f., 77, 84, 90-3, 96f., 109, 113, I2lf., 123, 128 Leipzig, University of 122 Leo VI, Byzantine Emperor 4, 78 liberty: of the confession 246; of the imperial estates 199, 24if, 244^, 247, 252-4; see also sovereignty Limnaeus, Johannes 207 literature 8, 66, 96, 106, 112, 117, 126; poetry, poets 1, 67f., 94, 96f., 102, 165 Livius, Titus 40 Lohenstein, Daniel Casper von 96 Louis XIV, king of France 201, 218, 249, 253, 265, 268 Louvain, University of 13, i5f, 44, 46, 54, 63f., 77, 90, 93, 95, 99 Loyola, Ignatius of 54 Luise Henriette of Orange 120, 125 Lund, University of n o , 112 Luther, Martin 131, 140, 205 Lutheranism 33, 69, i n , 127, 142, 196

277

Index Machiavelli, Niccolo 5, 8, 16, 41, 44, 48, 50, 53, 57, 61, 70-3, 78, 87, 103, 153, 227, 268 Magna Carta 180, 182 Mainz, court of 25of., 256 Mannheim, Karl 259, 270 manors (Grundherrschaft) 182, 189, 263 Marcus Aurelius 128 Maria Theresa, Empress 99, 101, 214, 237,

Montecuccoli, Raimund count 8of. Montesquieu, Charles de Secondat, baron de la Brede et de 263 Miintzer, Thomas i4of. Muret, Antoine 16, 60, 61, 68 mutua obligatio 141 f., 148-50, 153, 166, 168, 194, 196, 206, 266

254**Marnix de St Aldegonde, Philippe 33, 60, 113, 124 Maurice of Hesse, landgrave 84f. Maurice of Nassau, prince of Orange 50, 62, 77-9, 86, 109, 124 Maurice of Saxony, elector 225 Maximilian I, Emperor 200, 202 Maximilian I, elector of Bavaria 99f., 229 Mecklenburg 94, 2i8f. Melanchthon, Philipp 33, 142 mercantilism 131, 161, 220, 237, 242, 260, 268, 270 Meursius, Johannes 4, 34, 78, 112, 124 Mevius, David 96f. Middle Ages 2, 3, 5, 15, 17, 28f., 157, 241 middle class 35, 68, 118, 119, 129, 151, 161, 163, 183, 234, 262 miles perpetuus 8, 50-2, 71, 72, 75, 84, 195, 216, 222f., 234, 236-8 militarism 72, 88, 129, 161, 220, 225, 237, 242, 267f. military, the: 8, 119; see also army organization 4f., 30, 36, 52, 66, 73, 138,

Nassau, county 83f., 229f. nationalism 28 Naude, Gabriel 107, 117, 130 Netherlands, the 13,15,17,26,37,69,91-7, i28f, 143, 149, 151, 262; southern 63, 253, 255; States General of the United Provinces 62, 63, 77, 83, 119; 'The Netherlands movement' 34f., 67, 68f., 71, 91-131, 234; Dutch army reforms 4f., 53, 64, 66, 76-89, 114, 117, 125, 230; Dutch merchant class 30, 40, 76, 83; Dutch revolt 18, 63 nobility 17, 40, 55, 68, 77, 124, 129, 160, 183, 189^, 193, 195, 224, 234, 239, 262; education of the 67, 164; libraries of the 3, 99, 100, 104, 124

221-40 of the Empire, 234, 251; Swedish 111, 235 entrepreneurs 17, 138, 233, 237 commissioners 129, 195, 293, 313, 315, 318 law 58, 126, 270 taxes 235-7 academy 84 science 4, 52, 78, 87, 93 writer 8off. power 7iff. in Prussia i25f. 'military, economic, and administrative state' 189, 194-6 Milton, John 116, 117 monarchomachs 40, 41, 55, 144, 149, 166, 168, 194 monarchy: 43, 68, 93, 199-220; absolute 74, 131, 149; monarchic/, mixta 169, 183^, 206, 264; 'monarchical principle' 199, 218 Montaigne, Michel de 47, 50, 60, 68, 81, io6f.

obedience 7, 35, 55, 68, 137, 164; military 53f., 8if., 83, 131; 'cult of obedience' 131 Oldenbarneveldt, Johan van 62 Olevianus, Caspar i42f. opinio i8f, 25, 115 Opitz, Martin 38, 96 Oxenstierna, Axel count iO9f., 180 Oxford, University of 1 i4f. painting 66, 95, 113 Palatinate, the 100, 228f. Palladius, Rutilius Taurus Aemilianus 3 Papacy 200, 212 Pascal, Blaise 38 patria (one's country) 19-23, 28 patriotism 82 peace 5of., 55f., 71, 131, 211; of Westphalia i79f., 184, 203, 207, 211, 241, 244-7; Religious Peace of Augsburg (1555) 203, 205, 210, 211, 241

peasants 52, i6of., 195; Peasants' Revolt of 1524/25 193, 226 Philip II, king of Spain 15, 61, 62, 63, 102, H3, 148 Philip, Landgrave of Hesse 205, 225 Piccolomini, Alessandro 3 pietas 20, 33, 42, 100, i n , 128 Pietism, Prussian 42, 122, 127 Plantin-Moretus, publisher 58, 66; Plantin, Christoph 60

278

Index Plato 24, 4of., 49, 70, 94, 99 Pliny the Younger 1, 3, 40 Poland 13, 39, 57, 93, 100, 102, 178, 242, 254, 264 police 155-65, 210, 220; ordinances 17, 47, 53, 157-9, 182, 190, 215, 224, 2691*. 'political man', the 6f., 28 political science 5,61,68,91,93,94,97,99, i62f.; political theory 204-8; chairs of politics 90, n o Politicus Pius 122 'Politiques', party of the 75, 106, 108, 267 Polybius 5, 29, 61, 64, 78, 87 Pomerania, duchy of 176-8, 182, i85f. Possevino, Antonio 60, 70, 99, iO4f. pouvoirs intermediates 261, 263 power politics 47, 69-71, 84, 121, 124, 237, 247; balance of power 247, 252, 254, 257 Pragmatic Sanction 201, 214 Presbyterianism 137, 143, 151 primogeniture 200, 2i3f. princes: 8, 59; and estates 17, 36, 56, 166, 169, 184, 215-20, 237; 'mirror of princes' 43, 50, 7i, 9<>> 93, 103, r 6i principate, Roman 7, 37, 39, 268 privileges 161, 189, 200, 231, 262, 268; of the estates 17, 49, i68f., 182, 197, 210, 220, 241 Prometheus, myth of 18 Protestantism* Protestants 16, inf., 135, 143, 225, 255 providence 22f., 29, 42 prudentia civilis 90, 155-65, 195 prudentia mixta 48, 104, iO7f., 164 Prussia see Brandenburg-Prussia; Ducal Prussia 93, 176, i78f., 182-6 public opinion 190, 194, 250, 256, 259, 268 Puckering, Sir John 114 Putter, Johan Stephan 208 Pufendorf, Samuel (von) 38, 62, n o , I23f., 207, 248, 250 Puritanism 127, 137, 15if, 168, 269; Puritan revolution 142, 154 Puteanus, Erycius 93 Quevedo, Francisco de 60, 202-4 Racine, Jean 106 Raleigh, Sir Walter 116 Ramus, Peter 41, 50, 95 Rantzau, Heinrich von 60, 80, 113 ratio (reason) 7, i8f, 29f, 33, 35, 70, 106, 108, 161; rational severity 32, 35; rationalism 7, 33; rationalization 3f, 6, 30, 265, 271

reason of state (raison d'etat) 36, 48f., 50, (kjf., 121, 128, 153, 164, 195, 197, 234, 248, 257, 267 reform 40, 127, 164; legal 44, 50, 217; of the military system 50, 76-89, 114 Reinking, Theodor 207 religion 33, 42, 45f., 63, 69, 266f.; sociology of 119; religious wars 5, 17, 29, 61, 135; see also civil war; supra-confessional 8, 37, 64, 99, 131 Renaissance 15, 18, 33, 59, 130; philosophy 23f. resistance 55, 68, 144-7; right of 166, 205, 207 Reusner, Elias 80, 97, 98 rhetoric 1, 16, 18, 41, 61, 67f., 97 Richelieu, cardinal 105, 107-9, J77 Rimay, Janos 102 Roman king 200-2, 246 Roman law 2, 44, 258, 262 Roman state 6, 267 Rostock, University of 33, 122 Rubens, Peter Paul 95 rule, personal 30, 45, 47, 68, 121, 216, 217, 263 Russia 102, 255, 257 Sallust, Caius Sallustius Crispus 40 Salmasius, Claudius 78, 109 Saxony 100, 218, 236 Scaliger, Joseph-Justus 34, 60, 64, 78, 117 Scandinavia 91, 109-13, 262 Scharnhorst, Gerhard von 87, 235, 239^ Scheffer, Johan 78, iogf. Schonborn, John Philip of, elector of Mainz 249 scholastic 15, 3of, 37f., 43, 130, 136, 258 Schwendi, Lazarus von 50, 73f., 212, 227 sciences 66, 113; practical 2, 5 Scioppius, Caspar 60, 105 Scotland 39, 66, 143, 147, 152 Scriverius, Petrus 64, 94 sea-travel 30 secularization 8, 151 selection (dilectus): civil 45 military 5if., 72, 74, 83, 86, 222, 236, 239 selected troops (Ausschuss) 229-33 Seneca, L. Annaeus 6, 8, 14-16, 19, 22, 28, 31, 33f., 40, 43f., 49, 54, 59, 64, 65, 86, 89, 91, 95f., 102, 104, 117, 126, 128 Sidney, Philip 60, 114 Silesia 121, 254 similitudo temporum 15, 61 Skytte, Johan 98, iO9f. Smith, Sir Thomas 94 society: absolutist i6of; Dutch 76; theory of 19

279

Index toleration 9, 74, 151, 156; religious 63, 124, 128, 196 totalitarianism 259 town (urban community) 129, i56f., 160, 182, i89f., 263 trade, see commerce Trevor-Roper, H. R., Lord Dacre 169 tyrant, tyranny 25-7, 51, 55, 149, 207, 266; tyrannicide 40, 55, 68

Socrates 20 Soto, Domingo de 259 sovereignty: 36, 44, 46, 741*., 192; internal 157, 215, 220; popular 40, 69, 1351*., 141, 147, 149; of the Emperor 2o6f.; of the imperial estates 245, 246; see also liberty; Bodinian 75, 169; sovereign state 136, 186 Spain 3, 58, 66, 74, 76f., 93, 102-4, 136, 144, 262; translation into Spanish 13, 29, 57, 73> 103 Spiegel, Hendrik Laurenszoon 60, 94f. Spinoza, Baruch de 8, 38

universities 67, 161-5, 269 European 34, 59, 124 Dutch 64, 66, 112, 113, 118 German 112, 194 of Brandenburg-Prussia 127 Uppsala, University of 78, 98, n o , 112, 123 Utrecht, University of 12 if, 128

standing army, see miles perpetuus

state: composite 183, 189, 194, 263, 264; corporative 6, 142, i48f., 160, 167; conception of the 29, 41, 74, 194, 196; formation of the 167, 187-98, 224f., 240, 242, 260; theories of the 5, 21, 40, 266; and church 45f., 63, 71, 105, i n , 136, 215, 261; and society i6of., 170,

Vair, Guillaume du 28, 321*., 81, io6f. Varro, M. Terentius 3 Vega Carpio, Lope de 104 Vegetius (F. Vegetius Renatus) 4, 40, 87 Velazquez, Diego Rodriguez de Silva 79f. Vernulaeus, Nicolaus 93f. Vettori, Piero (Victorius) 3 Vienna 16, 58, 99, 100, 252 Vindiciae contra tyrannos 144-51 Vitoria, Francisco de 41, 43, 136, 142, 259 Vondel, Joost van den 95 Vossius, Gerardus Joannes 34, 62, 91, 94, 112,

271

Stephanus, Carolus (Charles Estienne) 3 Strasbourg: University of 92, 97, i09f., 122; free imperial city is8f, 250 style 67; Ciceronian 16, 68, 102; Lipsian 29, 59, 68, 104, 106, 117; Tacitus/Seneca 68, 104, 116 Suarez, Francisco S. J. 71, 151 Sweden 38, 66, 86, 93, 109-12, 130, 173-5, i76f., i79f., 182-6, 201, 218, 235, 243, 244-7, 254, 257, 264 Switzerland 97, ii3f.

117

Tacitus 5f., 8, 13, 16, 27, 39, 40, 59-62, 9if., 95-7, 102, io3f., 106, u6f. Tartaglia, Niccolo 2 taxes 25, 47f., 66, i n , 138, 192, 195, 210, 215, 218, 220, 246; see also military taxes territories, jurisdiction within the 210; territorial representative constitution (Landstandische Verfassung) 188-98; territorial estates (Landstande) 191, 196, 214-20, 226f., 23if., 239, 263; territorial assemblies (Landtage) 160, i9of., 193, I95f., 234^; territorial militia (Landmiliz) 222f., 235f., 238f, 268; see also defence associations theodicy 24f, 30 Thirty Years' War 791*., 86, 176, 203, 233 Thomas Aquinas 40, 96, 130 Thomasius, Christian 90, 124, 126, 127, 155, 165 Thomson, George 114 Thucydides 40, 61, 115

Waldeck, George Frederick count of 121, 247, 250 war 182, 184 of the Spanish succession 253 articles of 53, 74, 86 of Brandenburg 125 Dutch 4, 79 Swedish 86, i n cabinet wars 237 Weber, Max 6, 69, 119, 135, 265, 271 William of Nassau, prince of Orange 46, 63, 113

William Louis, count of Nassau 5, 50, 77f. Wolff, Christian 127 work 35, 48, 68, 121, 127; discipline of 159, 270; workhouses 270 Wotton, Sir Henry 116 Wiirttemberg 2i8f., 236 Xenophon 3, 4of. Zrinyi, Miklos, count 102 Zwingli, Huldreych i4of.

280