pressure to force them into a growth, slow indeed but certain, and in
the end fruitful. A transition period we might call it. The theory of
Roman universal domination, by relegating to the central power all the
_political_ functions of the municipality and leaving it only its
_civic_ ones, and these in later imperial times grudgingly and with an
impaired independence, had left it simply an administrative instead of
a political division of the state. In the flush of triumph the rough
hand of the barbarian overthrew the framework of administration, and
at first failed to recognize the necessity of replacing it by any
other. The passivity of the conquered inhabitants--the cause of which
has already been explained--was such that a long period elapsed before
they realized that to regain in some measure the position of local
independence that they had lost, and to free themselves from the
shackles of dependence on the rural communities in which they were
placed--a dependence forced upon them by the natural development of
the new state system of their Teutonic conquerors--some common effort
at organization was needful, for purposes at least of self-defense.
That this effort came from the town itself, from the people and not
from the external power of the ruler or overlord, is the fact which
first makes the history of these municipalities interesting.

There are two facts, however, which, even at this early date, begin to
influence the internal history of the communes. These are the
influence which the Church,[7] through its bishops, began to attain in
the civil affairs of the country; and the idea beginning to gain
currency that the locality where a number of individuals, however
wretched in state, were collected together, would afford a safer
refuge than the open country to the oppressed, the homeless and the
outcast. I will briefly consider the latter first, as of less
importance, though not unconnected with the former.