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Title: Crises in the History of the Papacy
Author: Joseph McCabe
Release Date: April 8, 2020 [EBook #61779]
Language: English
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_By Joseph McCabe_
Peter Abélard
St. Augustine and His Age
A Candid History of the Jesuits
Crises in the History of the Papacy
Crises
in the
History of the Papacy
A Study of
Twenty Famous Popes whose Careers and
whose Influence Were Important in the
Development of the Church and
in the History of the World
By
Joseph McCabe
Author of "Peter Abélard," "Life of Saint Augustine," etc.
G.P. Putnam's Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1916
Copyright, 1916
BY
JOSEPH McCABE
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
PREFACE
Probably no religious institution in the world has had so remarkable
a history, and assuredly none has attracted so large and varied a
literature, as the Papacy. The successive dynasties of the priests
of ancient Egypt were, by comparison, parochial in their power and
ephemeral in their duration. The priests of Buddha, rising to an
autocracy in the isolation of Thibet or mingling with the crowd in
the more genial atmosphere of China or cherishing severe mysticisms
in Japan, offer no analogy to the Papacy's consistent growth and
homogeneous dominion. The religious leaders of the Jews, scattered
through the world, yet hardened in their type by centuries of
persecution, may surpass it in conservative antiquity, but they do
not remotely approach it in power and in historical importance. It
influences the history of Europe more conspicuously than emperors have
ever done, stretches a more than imperial power over lands beyond the
most fevered dreams of Alexander or Cæsar, and may well seem to have
made "Eternal Rome" something more than the idle boast of a patriot.
Yet this conservative endurance has not been favoured by such a
stability of environment as has sheltered the lamas of Thibet or the
secular priests of the old Chinese religion. The Papacy has lived
through fifteen centuries of portentous change, though it seemed in
each phase to have connected itself indissolubly with the dominant
institutions and ideas of that phase. The Popes have witnessed, and
have survived, three mighty transformations of the face of Europe. They
had hardly issued from their early obscurity and lodged themselves in
the fabric of the old Roman civilization when this fell into ruins; but
they held firmly, amidst the ruins, the sceptre they had inherited. One
by one the stately institutions of the older world--the schools, the
law-courts, the guilds of craftsmen, the military system, the municipal
forms and commercial routes--disappeared in the flood of barbarism
which poured over Europe, but this institution, which seemed the least
firmly established, was hardly shaken and was quickly accepted by the
strange new world. A new polity was created, partly under the direction
of the Popes, and it was so entirely saturated by their influence that
religion gave it its most characteristic name. Then Christendom, as it
was called, passed in turn through a critical development, culminating
in the Reformation; and the Papacy begot a Counter-Reformation and
secured millions beyond the seas to replace the millions it had lost.
The third and last convulsion began with the work of Voltaire and
Rousseau and Mirabeau, and has grievously shaken the political theory
with which the Papacy was allied and the older religious views which
it had stereotyped. Yet today it has some 35,000,000 followers in the
three greatest Protestant countries, the lands of Luther, of Henry
VIII., and of the Puritan Fathers.
It must seem a futile design to attempt to tell, with any intelligent
satisfaction, within the limits of a small volume the extraordinary
story of this institution. No serious historian now tries to command
more than a section of the record of the Papacy, and he usually
finds a dozen volumes required for the adequate presentment of that
section. Yet there is something to be said for such a sketch as I
propose to give. If we take four of the more important recent histories
of the Papacy--those of Father Grisar, Dr. Mann, Dr. Pastor, and Dr.
Creighton--we find that the joint thirty volumes do not cover the
whole period of Papal history even to the sixteenth century; and the
careful student will not omit to include in his reading the still
valuable volumes of Milman and of Dr. Langer. In other words, he must
study more than fifty volumes if he would have an incomplete account
of the development of the Papacy up to the time of the Reformation,
and more than that number if he would follow accurately the fortunes
of the Papacy since the days of Paul III. The history of the Papacy is
very largely the history of Europe, and this voluminous expansion is
inevitable. On the other hand, the general student of the history of
Europe and the general reader who seeks intellectual pleasure in "the
storied page" are not only repelled by such an array of tomes, but
they have no interest in a vast proportion of the matter which it is
incumbent on the ecclesiastical historian to record. One wants a view
of the Papacy in the essential lines of its development, and they are
usually lost, or not easily recognized, in the conscientiously full
chronicles. Is it possible to give a useful and informing account of
the _essential_ history of the Papacy in a small volume?
The rare attempts to do this that have been made have failed from
one or other of two causes: they have either been written with a
controversial aim and therefore have given only the higher lights
or darker shades of the picture, or they have been mere summaries
of the larger works, mingling what is relevant and what is not
relevant from the developmental point of view. The design which
occurs to me is to write a study of the Papacy by taking a score of
the outstanding Popes--which means, in effect, a score of the more
significant or critical stages in the development of the Papacy--and
giving an adequate account of the work and personality of each.
The evolution of the Papacy has not, like the evolution of life in
general, been continuous. It has had periods of stagnation and moments
of rapid progress or decay. Of the first hundred Popes, scarcely a
dozen contributed materially to the making of the Papacy: the others
maintained or marred the work of the great Popes. It is the same with
the environment of the Papacy, which has influenced its fortunes
as profoundly as changes of environment have affected the advance
of terrestrial life. There have been long drowsy summers closed by
something like ice ages; there have been convulsions and strange
invasions, stimulating advance by their stem and exacting pressure. I
propose to select these more significant periods or personalities of
Papal history, and trust that the resultant view of the Papacy will
have interest and usefulness. The periods which lie between the various
Pontificates which I select will be compressed into a brief account of
their essential characters and more prominent representatives, so that
the work will form a continuous study of the Papacy.
In the selection of a score of Popes out of more than two hundred and
fifty there is room for difference of judgment. The principle on which
I have proceeded is plain from the general aim I have indicated. The
story of the Papacy may fitly be divided into two parts: a period of
making and a period of unmaking. Taking the terms somewhat liberally,
one may say that the first period reaches from the second to the
fourteenth century, and that the subsequent centuries have witnessed an
increasing loss of authority, especially in the catastrophic movements
(from the Papal point of view) of the sixteenth and the nineteenth
centuries. A selection of significant Popes must, therefore, include
the great makers of the Papacy, the men whose vice or incompetence
brought destructive criticism upon it, and the men who have, with
varying fortune, sought to defend it against the inroads of that
criticism during the last four centuries. One must make a selection
neither of good Popes nor bad Popes, but of the Popes who, in either
direction, chiefly influenced the fortunes of the institution; and,
in order that no important phase may be omitted, a few men of no very
pronounced personality must be included.
Regarded from this point of view, the history of the Papacy may be
compressed within limits which rather accentuate than obscure its
interest, and, at the same time, a very ample account may be given
of some of its more instructive phases. The first phase, before the
Bishop of Rome became a Pope, in the distinctive sense of the word, is
best illustrated by taking the bishopric of Callistus at the beginning
of the third century. The Roman bishopric was then one of several
"apostolic Sees," rarely claiming authority over other bishoprics, and
still more rarely finding such a claim acknowledged: thrown somewhat
into the shade by the vastly greater strength of the Eastern churches,
yet having an immense and as yet undeveloped resource in the tradition,
which was now generally accepted, that it had been founded by the two
princes of the apostles. There was, however, in three hundred years, no
Roman bishop sufficiently endowed to develop this resource, and the
fourth century still found the Roman See so little elevated that its
African neighbours disdainfully rejected its claim of authority. Then
the far-reaching change which followed the conversion of Constantine
bestowed on it a material splendour and a secular authority which
gave it a distinctive place in Christendom, and a study of the life
of Bishop Damasus shows us the extension of its prestige and the
exploitation of its tradition; while the founding of a rival imperial
city in the East and the obliteration of all other apostolic Sees
withdrew half of Christendom from Roman influence before its ecumenic
claim was fully developed.
The fall of the western Roman Empire enfeebles the once powerful and
independent provincial bishops and gives a more spiritual outlook to
the successors of Peter who sit among the ruins of Rome. The life
of Leo the Great illustrates this concentration on religious power
amidst the autumnal decay of the more material power and of the wealth
which had inflated and secularized some of his predecessors. The
life of Gregory the Great marks the culmination of this development.
The material world seems to be nearing dissolution and the old Roman
spirit of organization, which is strong in Gregory I., is directed
to the creation of a moral and religious dictatorship. There are
still flickers of independence in remote bishoprics, and the East is
irrecoverably removed, but the disordered state of Christendom cries
for a master. Europe is young again, with a vicious impulsive youth,
and the rod of Rome falls healthily on its shoulders; and the paralysis
of civic government and land-tenure in Italy inevitably casts secular
functions and large possessions upon the one effective power that
survives. An elementary royalty begins to attach to the Papacy: the
function of ultimate tribunal in that violent world is imposed on it
almost by public needs: and, though Gregory is personally disdainful of
culture, the Church, and the monastic refuges it consecrates, preserve
for a wiser age to come some proportion of the wisdom of the dead age.
With Hadrian I. a new phase opens. The possession and administration
of "patrimonies," or bequeathed estates, give place to the definite
political control of whole provinces, under the protection of a
powerful and conveniently remote King of the Franks. In the ninth
century, Nicholas I. consolidates and extends the new power, both as
temporal and spiritual ruler. The vice and violence of Europe still
justify or promote the growth of a great spiritual autocracy, and the
illiteracy of Europe--for culture has touched its lowest depth--permits
the imposition on it (in the "False Decretals," etc.) of an impressive
and fictitious version of the bases of Papal claims. Then Rome, which
has hitherto had singularly few unworthy men in the chair of Peter,
becomes gradually degraded to the level of its age, and the Papacy
passes into the darkness of the Age of Iron: which is fitly illustrated
by the Pontificate of John X. Gregory VII. shows its restoration to
spiritual ideals and the union of monastic severity with the Papal
tradition; and this steady creation of a machinery for dominating the
vice and violence of Europe is perfected in the extraordinary work of
Innocent III., who would, for its moral correction, make Europe the
United States of the Church and treat its greatest monarchs as satraps
of the Papacy.
After Innocent, the Papacy degenerates. A renewed school-life, the
influence of the Moors, the evolution of civic life and prosperity,
and the rise of powerful kingdoms stimulate the intelligence of
Europe, while the political connexions in which the temporal power
entangles the Papacy lead to a degeneration which cannot escape the
more alert mind of the laity. During a long exile at Avignon the
Papal court learns soft ways and corrupt devices--illustrated by the
life of John XXII.--and the Great Schism which follows the return to
Rome causes a moral paralysis which permits the Pontificate of an
unscrupulous adventurer like John XXIII. The prosperous sensuality
of the new Europe infects an immense proportion of the clergy: war,
luxury, and display entail a vast expenditure, and the more thoughtful
clergy and laity deplore the increasing sale by the Popes of sacred
offices and spiritual privileges. The body of lay scholars and lawyers
grows larger and more critical, while the Papal Court sinks lower
and lower. The Papacy is fiercely criticized throughout Europe, and
the resentment of its moral complexion leads to a discussion of the
bases of its power. The earlier forgeries are discovered and the
true story of its human growth is dimly apprehended. The successive
Pontificates of Alexander VI., Julius II., and Leo X. exhibit this
dramatic development: a flat defiance by the Papal Court of the
increasing moral sentiment and critical intelligence of Europe. Men
are still so dominated by religious tradition that, apart from an
occasional heresy, they generally think only of "reform" and reforming
councils. When Luther strikes a deeper note of rebellion, the echo is
portentous, and neither reform, nor violence, nor persuasion succeeds
in averting the disruption of Christendom. In Paul III., we have the
last representative of the Papacy of the Renaissance wavering between
the grim menace of Germany and the unpleasantness of reform. In Sixtus
V. and Benedict XIV. we study two of the great efforts of the new
Papacy to preserve the remaining half of its territory. In Pius VII.,
Pius IX., and Leo XIII. we see the Papacy meeting the successive waves
of the modern revolution.
* * * * *
In composing this sketch of Papal history, or, rather, study of its
critical phases, I have gratefully used the larger modern histories
to which I have referred. Dr. Ludwig Pastor's _History of the Popes
from the Close of the Middle Ages_[1] is, for the period it covers
(1300-1550), the most valuable of all Papal histories. The Catholic
author is not less courageous than scholarly, even if we must recognize
some inevitable bias of affection, and he has enriched our knowledge by
a most judicious and candid use of unpublished documents in the Secret
Archives of the Vatican. Dr. H.K. Mann's _Lives of the Popes in the
Middle Ages_,[2] which covers the ground from Gregory I. to Innocent
III., is based upon an ample knowledge of the original authorities, but
is much less candid and reliable, and seems to be intended only for
controversial purposes. Dr. Creighton's learned and judicious _History
of the Papacy from the Great Schism to the Sack of Rome_[3] must be
corrected at times by the documents in Pastor. Father H. Grisar's
incomplete _History of Rome and the Popes in the Middle Ages_[4] is
a learned and moderate partisan study of the Papacy in the first
four centuries. The older works of Dr. J. Langer,[5] Dean Milman,[6]
Gregorovius,[7] and Ranke are by no means superfluous to the student,
though more recent research or judgment often corrects them. Less
extensive works will be noted in the course of each chapter, and I
owe much to industrious older authorities like Baronius, Tillemont,
Raynaldus, Mansi, etc. I have, however, had the original authorities
before me throughout. The earlier chapters are, indeed, based almost
entirely on the Latin or Greek sources, and, in the later chapters,
at every point which seemed to inspire differences of judgment I
have carefully weighed the original texts. For the later mediæval
period, however, Creighton, Pastor, and Gregorovius have so generously
strengthened their works with quotations and references that, except
at a few points, I may direct the reader to their more comprehensive
studies. The narrow limits which are imposed by the particular purpose
of this work forbid either the constant quoting of passages or the
design of enlarging on some of the remarkable scenes to which it at
times refers. The severe condensation, after the first few chapters,
has entailed a labour only second to that of research, and I can only
trust that the abundance of fact will afford some compensation for the
lack of elegance. Happily the earlier controversial method of writing
Papal history has so far yielded to candid research that the points in
dispute--as far as fact is concerned--are comparatively few. Where they
occur--where grave and accepted historians of any school dissent--the
evidence is more liberally put before the reader.
J.M.
Christmas, 1915.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: English trans., 1891, etc.]
[Footnote 2: Ten vols., 1902-1914.]
[Footnote 3: Six vols., 2d ed., 1897.]
[Footnote 4: English trans., 1911, etc.]
[Footnote 5: _Geschichte der römischen Kirche_, 1881, etc.]
[Footnote 6: _History of Latin Christianity._]
[Footnote 7: _The City of Rome in the Middle Ages_, English trans.,
1900, etc.]
CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface iii
CHAPTER
I.--St. Callistus and the Early Struggle 1
II.--St. Damasus and the Triumph 19
III.--Leo the Great, the Last Pope of Imperial Rome 38
IV.--Gregory the Great, the First Mediæval Pope 55
V.--Hadrian I. and the Temporal Power 78
VI.--Nicholas I. and the False Decretals 101
VII.--John X. and the Iron Century 124
VIII.--Hildebrand 141
IX.--Innocent III.: The Papal Zenith 171
X.--John XXII.: The Court at Avignon 202
XI.--John XXIII. and the Great Schism 221
XII.--Alexander VI.: The Borgia-Pope 240
XIII.--Julius II.: The Fighting Pope 267
XIV.--Leo X. and the Dance of Death 285
XV.--Paul III. and the Counter-Reformation 310
XVI.--Sixtus V. and the New Church 330
XVII.--Benedict XIV.: The Scholar-Pope 351
XVIII.--Pius VII. and the Revolution 368
XIX.--Pius IX. 391
XX.--Leo XIII. 414
List of the Popes 443
Index 451
Crises in the History of the Papacy
Crises in the History of The Papacy
CHAPTER I
ST. CALLISTUS AND THE EARLY STRUGGLE
At the close of the second century after the birth of Christ the
Christian community at Rome still saw no human prospect of that
spiritual mastery of the world which they trusted some day to attain.
They lived, for the most part, in the Transtiberina, the last and least
reputable section of the great city, beyond the shelter of its walls.
In that squalid and crowded district between the Janiculus and the
Tiber dwelt the fishers and tanners and other poor workers; and the
Jews, and others who shunned the light, found refuge among their lowly
tenements. Near that early ghetto, from which they had issued, most of
the Christians lingered. Still they were a small community, and still
the might of Rome bade them crouch trembling at the gates, lost among
the tombs and gardens of the Vatican or the dense poverty at the foot
of the Janiculus. Across the river they would see, above the fringe
of wharves and warehouses, the spreading line of the Roman people's
palaces, from the Theatre of Pompey to the Great Circus: perhaps
they would hear the roar of the lions which might at any time taste
Christian flesh. Beyond these was the seething popular quarter of the
Velabrum, sending up to heaven at night a confused murmur and a blaze
of light at which the Christians would cross themselves; and on either
side of the Velabrum, the stern guardians of its superstition, were the
hills which bore the gold-roofed temple of Jupiter and the marble city
of the Cæsars. More than one hundred and fifty years had passed since
the death of Christ, yet his followers waited without the gates, little
heeded by the million citizens of Rome.
The old gods were dying, it is true. In many a cool _atrium_ there
must have been some such discussion about the successor of Jupiter
as has been finely imagined by Anatole France; but assuredly not the
weirdest of the Syrian visionaries who abounded would have said that,
in a few centuries, those neglected fields beside the Neronian Circus
at the foot of the Vatican would become the centre of the world, and
that men and women would come from the farthest limits of the Empire to
kiss the bones of those obscure Christians. Men talked of the progress
of the cult of Mithra, which spread even to distant Eboracum, or the
success of the priests of Isis or of Cybele, but few thought about the
priests of Christ. Earlier in the century, Pliny had written to court
to say that he had found, spreading over his province, a sect named the
Christians, whose beliefs seemed to him "an immoderate superstition";
though they had, he said, under pressure, abandoned their God in
crowds; and he had little doubt that he would extinguish the sect. Few
even of the Christians can have imagined that within two centuries
their cross would be raised above the proudest monuments of Rome, and
that the eagles of Jove and the rams of Mithra would lie in the dust.
Toward the end of the second century the Roman Christians can hardly
have numbered twenty thousand. Dr. Döllinger estimates their number
at fifty thousand, but the letter of Bishop Cornelius, on which he
relies, belongs to a later date and is not accurately quoted by him.[8]
The Bishop says that, in his time, the Roman Church had forty-four
priests, fourteen deacons and subdeacons, and ninety-four clerics in
minor orders. The crowd of acolytes and exorcists must not be regarded
in a modern sense; most of them would never be priests. At that time,
there was not a single public chapel in Rome and it would be an
anachronism to regard each of the thirty or forty priests of Rome as a
rector in charge of more than a thousand souls. The Christians gathered
stealthily in the houses of their better-endowed brethren to receive
the sacred elements from poor glass vessels, and Tertullian blushes to
learn that they are found among the panders and gamblers who have to
bribe the officials to overlook their illegal ways.[9] The fact that
they supported fifteen hundred poor, sick, and widows need not surprise
us when we remember what an age of parasitism it was. At least a fourth
of the citizens of Rome lived on free rations and had free medical
service. There were, in fine, thirty years of development between the
time of Cornelius and the time of Callistus.[10]
Yet, it was nearly a century and a half, tradition said, since Peter
and Paul had baptized crowds on the banks of the Tiber. One cannot
today add anything to the discussion of that tradition and I will very
briefly state the evidence. The First Epistle of Peter--which is not
undisputed--says[11]: "The Church that is in Babylon saluteth you,"
and Babylon is very plausibly understood to mean Rome. Next, about the
year 96, Clement of Rome, writing to the Corinthians, speaks vaguely
of a "martyrdom" of Peter and Paul, and seems to imply that it took
place at Rome.[12] About the middle of the following century, we find
it believed in remote parts of the Church--by Papias in Hierapolis and
Dionysius at Corinth--that Peter had preached the Gospel at Rome.[13]
Ignatius of Antioch also seems to imply that Peter and Paul founded
the Roman community.[14] Irenæus and Tertullian and later writers know
even more about it--the later the writer, the more he knows--but the
historian must hesitate to use their works. There is a respectable
early tradition that Peter and Paul preached the Gospel at Rome and
suffered there some kind of martyrdom, during or after the Neronian
persecution. Peter is not called "bishop" of Rome by any writer earlier
than the third century, and the belief that he ruled the Roman Church
for twenty-five years seems to be merely the outcome of some fanciful
calculations of Anti-Pope Hippolytus.
Of the earlier bishops, Linus and Anacletus (or Anencletus), we know
only the names.[15] Then a faint light is thrown on the metropolitan
Church by the letter of Clement, its third Bishop. We find an ordered
community, with bishop, priests, and deacons; perhaps we conceive it
more accurately if we say, with overseer, elders, and servants. Then
the mists thicken again and a line of undistinguished names is all that
we can discern until the consecration of Bishop Victor in the year 189.
One would like to know more about Bishop Victor. He seems to have been
the first Pope, in the familiar sense of the word. "Pope" was, we
know, a common title of bishops until the sixth century, but Victor
is one of the makers of a distinctive Papacy. We shall, presently,
find Tertullian speaking, with his heaviest irony, of "the bishop of
bishops, the supreme pontiff," and, although he is probably referring
to Callistus, he is echoing the words of some other bishop. History
points to Victor, who peremptorily cut off the Eastern churches from
communion because they would not celebrate Easter when he did. They
were not much concerned, but Victor's premature assertion of leadership
marks the beginning of the Papacy.
The Roman Church was wealthier than those of the East, or had a few
wealthy members in the city. It sent sums of money to more needy
communities and received flattering requests for advice. It was,
however, singularly lacking in intellectual distinction, and it
produced no scholar to refute the subtle Gnostics and fiery Montanists
who came to it. The waves of heresy which raged over the East broke
harmlessly on the Italian shore of Christendom. One must not imagine
that it was isolated from the East by difference of tongue. Until the
end of the third century, it was wholly Greek: more isolated from Rome
than from Corinth. Nor is it less inaccurate to say that the Latins
were more interested in administration than in speculation. There is
little trace of organization until the days of Callistus. One is more
disposed to conceive the Roman Church shivering in poverty amid the
wealth and culture of the metropolis. The disdainful language of the
intellectuals and the wonderful success of Stoicism in the second
century excluded it from the educated world; while its secrecy, its
stern abstinence from games and festivals, its scorn of the gods, and
the shadow of deadly illegality which brooded over it, made it less
successful in appealing to the people than the other Eastern religions.
If, however, the Roman See made little impression in Rome, it made some
progress in the Church. As the fragments of Papias and Dionysius show,
Christians were saying, far away in the East, that it had been founded
by Peter; and the Gospels plainly made Peter the chief of the apostles.
The Roman See did not yet speak of having inherited the primacy of
Peter, and it had very little share in the prestige of Rome. It must
rise higher in the eyes of men, and at the end of the second century it
was rising. Marcia, the robust ex-slave who shared the brutal pleasures
of Commodus and was mistress of his harem of three hundred concubines,
had a grateful recollection of earlier Christian kindness, and she
secured peace and favour for the Church. Here it is that, for the first
time, a clear light falls upon the Christian community at Rome and upon
its bishops.
In the year 217 (or 218), Bishop Callistus succeeded Bishop Zephyrin,
who had followed Victor. From the fourth century he has been counted
one of the greatest of the early Popes. Two of the historic cemeteries
bore his name, and there were a Church of St. Callistus (or Calixtus,
as the Latins sometimes misspell it) and a Square of St. Callistus
in the Trastevere district. Martyrologies honoured him as a witness
to the faith, and (probably from the seventh century) the _Acta_ of
his martyrdom, including a most impressive account of his virtues
and miracles, might be consulted in the archives of Sta. Maria in
Trastevere. From these materials, Moretti composed an eloquent
biography of the saint, and even the Bollandists, more discreetly,
and with disturbing hints that Christian scholars were saying naughty
things about the _Acta S. Callisti_, set their learned seal upon his
diploma of sanctity and martyrdom.
Contemporary with Callistus, the saint and martyr, was Hippolytus, the
scholar and saint and martyr. They were the two shining jewels of the
Roman Church. The many works of Hippolytus had strangely disappeared,
and tradition was not even sure of which town he had been Bishop; but
there was evidence enough to connect him with the Roman Church and to
justify the claim that he was the Origen of the West. When, in 1551,
a broken marble statue of Hippolytus was discovered at Rome, it was
devoutly restored and set up in the Lateran Museum. And just three
hundred years afterwards, in 1851, there was given to the world a
lost work of the saintly scholar, from which it is plain that he was
the first Anti-Pope, and that the Pope whom he opposed and reviled
was Callistus. The first book of this work, the _Refutation of all
Heresies_ (sometimes called the _Philosophoumena_), had long been
known; the manuscript copy of Books IV. to X. was found in a monastery
on Mount Athos in 1842. Now that the true character of Hippolytus is
known, some doubt has been cast upon his scholarship, but it was
considerable for his age and environment. He was one of the very few
scholars of the Roman Church during several centuries, and one chapter
of his work throws an interesting light on the person of Callistus and
on a remarkable phase of the development of the Papacy.
The controversy about the authorship of the book and about the charges
against Callistus has brought to bear upon that period all the
available light; and the modern student will probably find the truth
somewhere between the extremes held by the contending historians of
the nineteenth century.[16] De Rossi himself, indeed, while pretending
to support, entirely discredits the arguments with which Döllinger, in
his years of orthodoxy, sought to defend the impeccability of the Popes
and to prove the moral obliquity of all who opposed them. The Italian
archæologist, it is true, imputes to Hippolytus a malice which goes ill
with _his_ reputation for sanctity, but perhaps we shall be able to
extricate ourselves from this painful dilemma without grave detriment
to the character of either saint.
Callistus was, in the days of Commodus, a slave of the Christian
Carpophorus, according to the _Liber Pontificalis_.[17] He was the
son of a certain Domitius who lived in the Transtiberina. The master
entrusted the slave with money to open a bank, and the faithful put
their savings into it, but it became known after a time that Callistus
had--to quote the text literally--"brought all the money to naught
and was in difficulties." He fled to the Port of Rome, whence, after
leaping into the sea in despair, he was brought back to the house of
Carpophorus and put in the _pistrinum_, the domestic mill in which
slaves expiated their crimes. The faithful, prompted by Callistus,
begged his release on the ground that he had money on loan and could
repay. He had no money, however, and he could think of nothing better
than to make a disturbance in the synagogue on the Sabbath, for which
the Jews took him before the Prefect Fuscianus[18] and described him as
a Christian. He was scourged and was sent to the silver or iron mines
of Sardinia--the Siberia of the Empire--from which few returned. But,
shortly afterwards, Marcia obtained the release of the Christians, and
although Bishop Victor had not included the name of Callistus in the
list, Callistus persuaded the eunuch to insert it. Victor, however,
reflecting on the hostility of his victims, sent him to live, on a
pension provided by the Church, at Antium.
This narrative has been subjected to the most meticulous criticism,
as if it were something novel or important to accuse a Pope of having
committed certain indiscretions in his youth. It suffices to say that,
while Döllinger is, in the end, reduced to claiming that Hippolytus
was probably not in Rome at the time, the more learned De Rossi is
so impressed by the minuteness and (as far as it can be checked) the
accuracy of the account that he believes Hippolytus to have been a
deacon of the Church at the time and so to have had official knowledge
of the facts. The single point of any importance is open to a humane
interpretation. Did or did not Callistus embezzle the money? If he did,
how came he to be elected bishop? If he did not, how comes his sainted
rival to call him, as he does, a fraud and impostor? We may remember
that financial troubles of this kind are peculiarly open to opposite
interpretations. Hippolytus, Victor, and Carpophorus, it seems, took
the less charitable view; but it would not be unnatural for others to
persuade themselves, or be persuaded by Callistus, that he was merely
the victim of circumstances.
Victor died in 198 and was succeeded by Zephyrin, "an ignorant and
illiterate man," says Hippolytus. Callistus, who had ceased to be a
slave when he was sentenced to penal servitude, was recalled to Rome
and, apparently, made first deacon (now called archdeacon) of the
Church. He was put in charge of a cemetery in the Appian Way which the
community had just secured, and this cemetery bears his name to this
day. Hippolytus, who was indignant, charges Callistus with ambition,
and says that Zephyrin was avaricious and open to bribes; which we may
humanely construe to mean that the able administration of Callistus
enabled the Bishop to live in some comfort. Nor need we despair of
finding a genial interpretation of his further charge, that the deacon
induced Zephyrin to meddle with questions of dogma, and then, behind
the Bishop's back, diplomatically sympathized with both the contending
parties. The truth is that the Latins were sorely puzzled by the
subtleties with which the Greeks were slowly and fiercely shaping the
dogma that the Father and Son were one nature, yet two persons, and
both Zephyrin and Callistus stumbled.
Callistus is further described as assisting Zephyrin in the "coercion,"
or, as others translate, the "organization" of the clergy, and this
point is of greater interest. As far as one can construe the barbarous
Latin of the _Liber Pontificalis_, Zephyrin decreed that the priests
were not to consecrate the communion for the people. The sacred
elements were to be brought to them, on glass patens, from the altar
at which the bishop said mass. Probably this is the "coercion" to
which Hippolytus refers, as the aim was, plainly, to emphasize the
subordination of the clergy. I would further venture to suggest,
against the learned Father Grisar, that this was also the occasion when
the sphere of the Roman bishop was divided into twenty-five _tituli_
(or parishes). The _Liber Pontificalis_ describes how Urban I., the
successor of Callistus, substituted silver for glass vessels at the
altar, and expressly speaks of "twenty-five patens."
We must conclude that Callistus was able as well as persuasive, and
we are not surprised to learn that, when Zephyrin died in 217 (or,
according to another account, 218) he was chosen Bishop. It was
customary, until long afterwards, to choose the bishop from the body of
deacons, but Hippolytus and his friends were indignant at the election
of the ex-slave, and a schism occurred. Hippolytus had the support of
the minority of precisians and correct believers: Callistus was the
favourite of the majority. Epithets of which the modern mind can hardly
appreciate the gravity were hurled from camp to camp. "Patripassian,"
thundered Hippolytus; "Ditheist" retorted Callistus. It is quite clear
that the scholar set up a rival See at Rome. He says that Callistus,
when he was elected, "thought" that he had attained his ambition, and
this must mean that he claimed himself to be the true Bishop of Rome.
Later tradition, concealing the ugly schism, left the bishopric of
Hippolytus in the air, or placed it at the Port of Rome, twenty miles
away. But this picture of daily combats implies that both bishops were
in Rome, and the little flock was rent and agitated by the first Papal
schism.
The dogmatic issue between the rivals cannot profitably be discussed
here. The Church was then in an early phase of the great Trinitarian
controversy, and, under Victor and Zephyrin, the Roman clergy had
favoured the simpler, or unitarian, view. Sabellius, who has given his
name to one form of unitarianism, was in Rome and was supported by the
deacon Callistus: indeed, his rival says that it was Callistus who
seduced Sabellius. However that may be, Callistus shrewdly perceived
he could not meet his learned opponent on that ground. He disowned
Sabellius, and soon lost himself in a maze of technical theology into
which I will not venture to follow him. To theologians I leave also the
discussion of the charge that Callistus favoured the rebaptizing of
converted heretics.
It is the charges of a practical or disciplinary nature which best
illustrate the character of Callistus and make his Pontificate a
milestone in the history of the Papacy. When we have made every
possible allowance for exaggeration, they show that Callistus infused a
remarkable spirit of liberalism into the Christian discipline and made
smooth for the tender feet of the Romans the rough ways of his Church.
The first charge is that Callistus admitted grave sinners to communion,
if they did penance. The ancient discipline is well known. Those who
committed one "mortal" sin after baptism could never again be admitted
to communion. They were the pariahs of the community, bearing in the
eyes of all the ineffaceable brand of their sin. There was as yet no
central power to define mortal sins, but sins of the flesh were, beyond
doubt, in that category, and, as such were not uncommon at Rome, a
rigorous insistence on the old discipline hampered the growth of the
Church. Callistus, with princely liberality, abolished it. "I hear,"
says Tertullian, "that an edict has gone forth. The supreme Pontiff,
that is to say, the Bishop of Bishops, announces: I will absolve
even those who are guilty of adultery and fornication, if they do
penance."[19] So the narrow gates were opened a little wider to the
warm-blooded Romans, and the Church grew.
But, while modern sentiment will genially applaud this act of the first
liberal Pope, the fifth charge in the indictment, which I take up next,
seems graver. The Greek text of Hippolytus is here particularly corrupt
and ambiguous, but the translation given by the Rev. J.M. Macmahon in
the _Ante-Nicene Library_ is generally faithful:
For even also he permitted females, if they were unwedded and burned
with passion at an age at all events unbecoming [more probably, at a
seasonable age], or [and] if they were not disposed to overturn their
dignity through a legal marriage, that they might have whomsoever they
would choose as a bedfellow, whether a slave or free [freedman], and
that they, though not legally married, might consider such an one as a
husband.[20]
The Bishop goes on to describe in technical language, which need not be
reproduced here, how the practice of abortion spread among Christian
ladies as a result of this license.
The apparent gravity of the charge has, however, so far disappeared
since the days of Döllinger that we are now asked to admire the bold
and exalted charity of Callistus. He is, of course, referring to the
Roman law which forbade the widow or daughter of a senator, under
pain of losing her dignity of _clarissima_, to marry a free-born man
of lower condition; a slave or freedman she could not validly marry.
There cannot have been very many ladies of senatorial rank in the
Church at that time, seeing that, seventy years after the conversion
of Constantine, St. Augustine found "nearly the whole of the nobility"
still pagan.[21] There were, however, some, as the inscriptions in
the Catacombs show, and their position was painful. They must either
mate with a Christian slave or freedman, and be regarded by the law
and their neighbours as living in concubinage: or marry a free-born
Christian of low degree and thus forfeit their rank: or devote their
virginity or their widowhood to God. The Church was concerned that they
should not marry pagan senators, who would scoff at their superstitions
and would dissipate their fortunes. Callistus told them that he would
recognize as valid in conscience unions with slaves or freedmen
which the State did not countenance. The number of ladies to whom
the license extended must have been small, and Hippolytus evidently
exaggerates the occasional scandals which followed. The impartial
historian, however, will hardly regard the action of Callistus as a
humanitarian protest against caste-distinctions. Such distinctions were
maintained by the Church for centuries afterwards in its legislation
about the clergy, and, on the other hand, the measure was profitable to
the Church. In practice, indeed, these secret marriages would easily
lead to disorder. A Christian lady would, if she were to keep her union
secret, merely choose a "husband" among her slaves or freedmen, and
would be tempted to use illicit means when her "marriage" threatened to
be exposed too plainly to pagan eyes.
The other charges against Callistus show a general policy of
liberality. He decreed that a bishop who was convicted of mortal sin
was not necessarily to be deposed: he permitted men who had been twice
or thrice married to become deacons or priests: he directed that "men
in orders" must not be disturbed if they married. Some writers think
that, in the latter case, he was referring only to men in minor orders,
but that would not have been a daring innovation. Hippolytus, in fact,
makes his policy and his character clearer by telling us, indignantly,
how Callistus searched the Scriptures for proof that the Church must
be wide enough to embrace both saints and sinners. There had been
clean and unclean animals in the ark: Christ had said that the tares
must grow up with the wheat: and so on. His reputation for liberality
spread so far in the Church that, while Tertullian grumbled in Africa,
a quaint Syrian charlatan named Alcibiades was attracted from the East
to Rome. He brought a mystic work, given to him by two angels of the
imposing height of ninety-six miles each, and he proclaimed that his
new form of baptism absolved even from certain gross sins which he very
freely and suggestively described.
The Church grew during these years of peace, of able organization, and
of humanization. Callistus "made a _basilica_ beyond the Tiber"--the
_Liber Pontificalis_ says--and there is an interesting passage in the
_Historia Augusta_ which seems to refer to this first Christian chapel
at Rome. The biographer of Alexander Severus says (c. xliii.) that the
Emperor wished to give the Christians the right to have public chapels,
but his officials protested that "the temples would be deserted--all
Rome would become Christian." This is obviously a piece of later
Christian fiction. In a more plausible paragraph, however, Lampridius
tells us that the Christians occupied a "public place," to which the
innkeepers laid claim, and the Emperor decided that "it was better
for God to be worshipped there in some form than for the innkeepers
to have it." It is probable enough that this inn is the _taverna
meritoria_ (wine shop and restaurant) referred to by Dio Cassius[22]:
among the portents which accompanied the struggles of Octavian a
stream of oil had burst forth in this hostel in the Transtiberina.
We know from Orosius[23] that the Christians claimed the occurrence
in later years as a presage of the coming of Christ. The age, if not
the disputed ownership, of the place suggests a dilapidated, if not
deserted, building; and if we may in one detail trust that interesting
romance, the _Acta S. Callisti_, we have a picture of the Christians of
the third century meeting at last, under their enterprising Bishop,
in the upper or dining room of this humble old inn in the despised
Transtiberina. This was the high-water mark of a century and a half of
progress.
Only one other act is authentically recorded of the brief rule of
Bishop Callistus: he directed his people to fast on three Sabbaths in
the year. This may seem inconsistent with his genial policy, but we
must remember that rigorists abounded at Rome and demanded sterner
ways. Callistus, apparently, merely sanctioned some slight traditional
observance and thus virtually relieved the faithful of others.
It may be fascinating to conjecture what so enterprising a Pope would
have done with the ecclesiastical system if he had lived long enough,
but Callistus died, according to the best authorities, in the year 222,
four or five years after his consecration. He did not die a martyr. In
opening his account of the career of Callistus, the rival Bishop says:
"This man suffered martyrdom when Fuscianus was Prefect, and this was
the sort of martyrdom he suffered." It is inconceivable that Hippolytus
should use such language in Rome after the death of Callistus if the
Pope had really suffered for the faith. No Christian was executed at
Rome under Alexander Severus. We must suppose that after his death, if
not during his life, Callistus was applauded as a martyr because of his
banishment to Sardinia, and probably this gave rise to the legend of
his martyrdom, which first appears, as a bald statement, in the fourth
century. The _Acta S. Callisti_ may be traced to about the seventh
century, and may be a pious contribution to the rejoicing of the
faithful at the transfer of his bones to Sta. Maria in Trastevere.[24]
The recklessness with which the writer describes the gentle and
friendly Alexander Severus as a truculent enemy of the Christians was
noted even by mediæval historians, and the narrative is now regarded
as, in the words of Döllinger, "a piece of fiction from beginning to
end." Yet Father Grisar[25] describes Callistus as a martyr.
Hippolytus maintained his little schism under Urban I. and Pontianus,
while the orthodox community prospered in the sun of imperial favour.
Then the grim Maximinus succeeded Alexander on the throne, and the
clouds gather again over Christendom. We just discern Pope and
Anti-Pope, Pontianus and Hippolytus, passing together to the deadly
mines of Sardinia. Later legend generously reconciled the rivals and
gave to both of them the martyr's crown; but the authority is late and
worthless. In whatever manner he ended his career, Rome was too proud
of its one scholar to darken his memory, and the names of Hippolytus
and Callistus shone together in ecclesiastical literature until that
fateful discovery among the dusty parchments of the monks of Mount
Athos.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 8: It is preserved in Eusebius, _Ecclesiastical History_,
vi., 43.]
[Footnote 9: _De Fuga a Persecutione_, xiii.]
[Footnote 10: The number of interments in the Catacombs cannot very
well be regarded as evidence. Archæologists differ by millions in
estimating the number, and the populous Church after Constantine still
buried in the Catacombs, at least until the Pontificate of Damasus.]
[Footnote 11: V., 13.]
[Footnote 12: _Epistle_, v.]
[Footnote 13: See Eusebius, ii., 15, and iii., 40, for the words of
Papias, and ii., 25, for the testimony of Dionysius.]
[Footnote 14: _Letter to Romans_, iv.]
[Footnote 15: Even the names and order are given differently in early
writers. I follow, as is now usual, the order given by Epiphanius
(xxvii., 6) and Irenæus.]
[Footnote 16: Bunsen's four-volume _Hippolytus and his Age_ (1852) was
sharply attacked by Döllinger (_Hippolytus and Callistus_, English
translation, 1876) and more judiciously handled by G.B. de Rossi in his
_Bulletino di Archeologia Cristiana_ (1866, pp. 1-33). Milman (_History
of Latin Christianity_, vol. i.) and Ch. Wordsworth (_St. Hippolytus
and the Church of Rome_, 1853) supported Bunsen. The work itself is
translated in _The Ante-Nicene Library_, vol. vi.]
[Footnote 17: This anonymous catalogue of the Popes, which I must often
quote, is a quaint mixture of accurate archives and inaccurate rumours.
The first part seems to have been written in the sixth century, and
it was continued as a semi-official record. See the Introduction to
Duchesne's edition.]
[Footnote 18: Fuscianus was Prefect between the years 186 and 189, so
that we have an approximate date of these events.]
[Footnote 19: _De Pudicitia_, i. Döllinger, on no apparent ground,
and against all probability, refers this to Zephyrin, and some older
writers think that the indignant Puritan is quoting an African bishop.
We must agree with De Rossi that Tertullian has Callistus in mind,
especially when we find Hippolytus saying that he was "the first" to do
this. An earlier attempt of an Eastern bishop might easily have escaped
Hippolytus.]
[Footnote 20: Vol. vi., p. 346. This is a fair, if inelegant, rendering
of the Greek text given by Duncker and Schneidewin in their edition
of the _Refutation_, and it corresponds with the Latin translation
given by those editors and with De Rossi. Döllinger is alone in his
interpretation.]
[Footnote 21: _Confessions_, viii., 2.]
[Footnote 22: XLVIII.]
[Footnote 23: VI., 18.]
[Footnote 24: Neither this church nor the Basilica S. Callisti can
have been the original meeting-place, though the latter may have been
founded on it.]
[Footnote 25: _History of Rome and the Popes in the Early Middle Ages_,
i,. 313.]
CHAPTER II
ST. DAMASUS AND THE TRIUMPH
In the year 355, the Christians of the imperial city startled their
neighbours by a series of violent and threatening demonstrations. Armed
crowds of them filled the streets, and monks and sacred virgins hid
themselves from the riot. An inquiring pagan would have learned that
the Emperor Constantius, who had waded to supremacy through a stream
of blood, was attempting to force on their Bishop and themselves the
damnable heresy of Arius. A few weeks before, Constantius had sent
his eunuch with rich presents to Liberius, suavely asking him to
condemn a certain fiery Athanasius who resisted the heresy. Liberius
had courageously refused, and, when the eunuch had cunningly left the
gifts beside the tomb of St. Peter, the Bishop had had them cast out
of the church. When the exasperated eunuch had returned to the Emperor
at Milan, the Christian community had prepared for drastic action, and
it was presently known that the civic officials at Rome had received
orders to seize the Bishop and send him to Milan. The Christians
threatened resistance, and for a few days the city was enlivened by
their turbulence. At last, Liberius was dragged from his house at night
and taken to Milan; and, since he bravely resisted the Emperor to his
face, he was sent on to remote and inhospitable Thrace. Then the
clergy, and as many of the faithful as could enter, gathered in their
handsome new _basilica_ on the site of the Laterani Palace and swore
a great oath that they would know no other bishop as long as Liberius
lived. One, at least, of the clergy set out--no doubt amidst the cheers
of the people--to accompany his Bishop into exile; this was the deacon
Damasus, who was destined to be the next Pope of prominence in the
Roman calendar.
The scene reminds us forcibly of the dramatic transformation which
had taken place since, a century before, Pope and Anti-Pope had been
sent in chains to the mines. For fifty years after that date the
_Liber Pontificalis_ is a necrology, a chronicle of gloomy life in
the Catacombs. Eleven Popes out of the thirteen who followed Urban I.
are--most of them wrongly--described as martyrs, and the record of
their actions shrinks to a few lines. At last, with Bishop Eusebius,
the chronicle brightens and lengthens; and then, under the name of
Silvester, it swells to thirty pages and glows with tokens of imperial
generosity. The darkest hour of the Church has suddenly changed into a
dazzling splendour.
The historical revolution reflected in this early chronicle of the
Popes is well known. For eighty years after the death of Callistus, the
hope of the faithful was painfully strained. The Decian persecution
(249-251) sent some to the heroic death of the martyr, many to the
corrupt officials who sold false certificates of apostasy, and very
many back to the pagan temples. Then another schism and another
Anti-Pope appeared; and the alliance with St. Cyprian and the African
bishops, which had at first promised aid against the schismatics, ended
in a contemptuous repudiation by the African bishops of Rome's claim
to jurisdiction. The Valerian persecution dissolved the feud in blood,
and, then, forty years of peace enabled the Roman Christians to recover
and to extend their domain. Two or three small _basilicæ_ were erected
or adapted. But, in the year 303, the new hope was chilled by the
dreaded summons of the persecutor, and, for the last time, stern-set
men and gentle maidens set out to face the headsman. Rome did not
suffer much in the next seven years of persecution, but one can imagine
the feelings of the faithful when they saw century thus succeed century
without bringing any larger hope even of a free place in the sun. And
then, in rapid succession, came the triumph of Constantine, the issue
of their charter of liberty (the Edict of Milan, 313), the imperial
profession of Christianity, the grant to the Christian clergy of the
privileges of Roman priests, and the building of large _basilicæ_
and scattering of gold and silver over their marble altars. Even the
transfer of the court to Constantinople hardly dimmed the new hope.
It remained "a new form of ambition to desert the altars," the pagans
murmured, and no one dare thwart the zeal of the clergy.
So, by the year 355, when deacon Damasus makes an inglorious entrance
into history, Rome had a large Christian community and at least half
a dozen churches. But Christendom was now overcast by the triumph of
Arianism and an Arian Emperor, and the struggle put an insupportable
strain on the character of the faithful. At first, the prospect at Rome
was brave and inspiring. They would all be true to their martyr-bishop;
with that thrilling cry in his ears the deacon set out for Thrace. In a
very short time, he was back in Rome, having changed his mind: "fired
with ambition," his critics said. And, in another short time, the chief
deacon Felix, who also had taken the oath, listened to the Arian
court and became Bishop of Rome; and Damasus and most of the clergy
transferred their loyalty to him. Then, in two or three years, Liberius
grew tired of Thrace, and signed some sort of heretical formula, and
came back to Rome; and the bloody struggle of Pope and Anti-Pope led to
a train of sorrows which darken the life of St. Damasus.
He had been born, probably at Rome, though his father is said to have
been a Spaniard, about the year 304.[26] The father had been a priest
in the service of the little _basilica_ of St. Lawrence in the city--I
am not impressed by Marucchi's contention that he was a bishop--and had
brought up Damasus in the same service. The mother Laurentia was pious:
the sister Irene consecrated her virginity to God. Damasus became,
and remained, a deacon, and was at least in his fiftieth year when he
turned his back upon the heroic road to Thrace. He was popular in the
new Christian Rome, which Jerome describes so darkly; envious folk
called him "the tickler of matrons' ears," and even worse. But we lose
sight of him again for ten years after his first appearance.[27]
The events of those ten years are, however, important for the
understanding of Damasus and his Church, and must be briefly reviewed.
That the clergy had, in the presence of the people, sworn to be true to
Liberius, and that the majority of them broke their oath, is confirmed
by St. Jerome in his Chronicle. Jerome, a decisive authority, tells
also of the fall of Liberius, and this is also recorded by Athanasius,
who writes the whole story. When Felix consented to be made bishop,
the people were so infuriated that he had to be consecrated by the
Emperor's Arian bishops in the palace: a group of eunuchs nominally
representing the people, who raged without. Most of the clergy accepted
Felix, but a minority, with the mass of the people, refused to do so,
and, for two years, he gave his blessing to very thin congregations,
or to empty benches. Then the Emperor came to Rome, and an imposing
deputation of noble Christian ladies prevailed on him to recall
Liberius. The Great Circus provided a new sensation for its 400,000
idlers when an imperial messenger announced that henceforward Liberius
and Felix would rule their respective flocks side by side in Rome.
"Two circus-factions, so two bishops," the pagan majority ironically
replied: but the Christian laity ominously thundered, "One God, one
Christ, one Bishop." So when Liberius, "overcome by the weariness of
exile and embracing the heretical perversity" (says St. Jerome in his
Chronicle), returned to Rome, he was received "as a conqueror." His
loyal flock, finely indifferent to the way in which he had purchased
his return, lined the route as men had done to welcome a triumphing
general in the old days.
This must have been about the end of 357 or the beginning of 358,
and we shall not dwell on the scenes which followed. Felix and his
followers were driven out of the city. Getting reinforcements,
apparently, they returned and took possession of the Basilica Julii
in the Transtiberina; but the mass of the faithful, led by Christian
senators or officers, took the church by storm, and again swept them
out of Rome. The _Liber Pontificalis_ records that a number of the
clergy were slain in the battle, and, becoming hopelessly confused
between Pope and Anti-Pope, it awards these followers of Felix the
palm of martyrdom. But it appears that the Felicians were strong, and
for six years held several of the smaller churches; rival clerics and
laymen could not meet in the baths and streets without violent results.
However, Felix died in 365, and Liberius wisely adopted his clerical
supporters.[28]
Damasus remains in decent obscurity during these years, and we may
assume that he repented his mistake, and renewed his allegiance to
Liberius. But Liberius followed his rival in the next year (366) and
the real career of Damasus opened. A well-known passage in the _Res
Gestæ_ of the contemporary pagan Ammianus Marcellinus[29] tells how, by
that time, the Bishop of Rome scoured the city in a gorgeous chariot,
gave banquets which excelled those of the Emperor, and received the
smiles and rich presents of all the fine ladies of Rome; and the
querulous old soldier is not surprised, he says, that Damasus and his
rival Ursicinus (as the name runs in official documents) were "swollen
with ambition" for the seat, and stirred up riots so fierce that the
Prefect was driven out of Rome, and, after one fight, a hundred and
thirty-seven corpses were left on the floor of one of the "Christian
conventicles." Jerome,[30] Rufinus,[31] and other ecclesiastical
writers of the time place the fatal rioting beyond question, and we may
therefore, with a prudent reserve, follow the closer description given
in the _Libellus_.
As soon as the death of Liberius became known, in September, 366,
the remnant of his original supporters met in the Basilica Julii,
across the river, and elected the deacon Ursicinus, who was at once
consecrated by a provincial bishop. It was an act of defiance to
Damasus, the popular candidate, whom they were determined to exclude.
Then, say these writers, Damasus gathered and bribed a mob, armed with
staves, and for three days there was a bloody fight for the possession
of the basilica. A week after the death of Liberius (or on October
1st), Damasus marched with his mob, now effectively reinforced by
gladiators, to the Lateran Basilica, and was consecrated there. After
this, he bribed the Prefect Viventius to expel seven priests of the
rival party, but the people rescued them and conducted them to the
Basilica Liberii, or Basilica Sicinini (now Sta. Maria Maggiore), in
the poor quarter across the river. In this chapel the rebels were
at worship in the early morning of October 26th when a crowd of
gladiators, charioteers, diggers (or guardians of the Catacombs), and
other ruffians (in the pay of Damasus, of course) fell on them with
staves, swords, and axes, and an historic fight ensued. The Damasians
stormed the barricaded door, fired the sacred building, mounted the
roof, and flung tiles on the Ursicinians. In the end the corpses of one
hundred and sixty--Ammianus was too modest--followers of Ursicinus,
of both sexes, lay on the floor of the blood-splashed chapel, and
Ursicinus and his chief supporters were sent into exile.
Such is the tale of woe of the priests Faustinus and Marcellinus, and
there is no doubt whatever that for months the most savage encounters
desecrated the chapels and Catacombs of Rome. As to whether Damasus was
or was not elected in his Church of St. Lawrence in the city _before_
the election of Ursicinus the authorities are not agreed; and it must
be left to the decision of the reader whether those who secured his
triumph were really a hired mob of gladiators and diggers or a troop of
pious and indignant admirers. Jerome, whose modern biographer, Amédée
Thierry,[32] plausibly contends that he was studying in Rome at the
time, expressly says that the followers of his patron Damasus were the
aggressors, and that many men and women were slain. Rufinus is more
favourable to the cause of Damasus, but he admits that the churches
were "filled with blood."
The Emperor seems not to have been convinced by the report of the
triumphant faction, and in the following year he permitted Ursicinus
and his followers to return to Rome. But the trouble was renewed, and
the Anti-Pope was again banished. His obstinate admirers then met in
the Catacombs, and another fierce and fatal fight occurred in the
cemetery of St. Agnes, where the servants of Damasus surprised them.
It is clear that Damasus had the support of the wealthy and the favour
of the pagan officials, but his rival must have controlled a very
large, if not the larger, part of the people. The forces engaged,
and the growth of the Christian body, may be estimated from the fact
that, as Ammianus says, the Prefect Viventius was compelled to retire
to the suburbs. He was promptly replaced, in the attempt to control
the rioters, by the ruthless and impartial Maximinus, the Prefect of
the Food-distribution; and clerics and laymen were indiscriminately
put to the torture and punished. At length, in 368, one of the last of
the sober old Roman patricians, Prætextatus, became Prefect, and put
an end to the riots. The reflections of Prætextatus and Symmachus and
other cultivated pagans are not recorded, but we are told by St. Jerome
that, when Damasus endeavoured to convert the Prefect, he mischievously
replied: "Make me Bishop of Rome and I will be a Christian."
Ursicinus went to din his grievances into the ears of provincial
bishops, and there seems to be good ground for the statement in the
_Libellus_ that some of these were indignant with Damasus. It is
at least clear that Damasus went on to obtain from the Emperor a
concession of the most far-reaching character. The imperial rescript
making this concession--one of the really important steps in the
history of the Papacy and of the Church--has strangely disappeared,
but we find the bishops of a later Roman synod (in 378 or 379) writing
to Gratian and Valentinian that, when Ursicinus was banished, the
Emperors had decreed that "the Roman bishop should have power to
inquire into the conduct of the other priests of the churches, and
that affairs of religion should be judged by the pontiff of religion
with his colleagues."[33] A later rescript of Gratian indicates that
the Bishop of Rome was to have five or seven colleagues with him in
these inquiries[34]; and further light is thrown on the matter by St.
Ambrose who observes[35] that, by a decree of Valentinian, a defendant
in a religious dispute was to have a judge of a fitting character (a
cleric) and of at least equal rank. Possibly the truculent impartiality
of Maximinus was the immediate occasion for asking this privilege, and
Valentinian would not find it unseemly that bishops should adjudicate
on these new types of quarrels. But we have in this last document
the germ of great historical developments. The clergy were virtually
withdrawn from secular jurisdiction; the spiritual court was set up in
face of the secular. Moreover, if defendants were to be judged only by
their equals, who was to judge the Bishop of Rome?
Damasus at once used his powers. He convoked a synod at Rome, and we
may realize the enormous progress that the Church had made in fifty
years when we learn that ninety-three Italian bishops responded to his
summons. On a charge of favouring Arianism, which seems to cloak a
real charge of favouring Ursicinus, the bishops of Parma and Puteoli
were deposed by the synod, and they appealed in vain to the court.
Henceforward bishops--under the presidency of the Bishop of Rome--were
to judge bishops. The cultivated and courtly Auxentius of Milan was
next condemned, but he was too secure in the favour of the Empress to
do more than smile. Neither he nor his great successor, St. Ambrose,
acknowledged any authority over them on the part of the Roman bishop.
From this synod, moreover, the bishops wrote to the Emperor to ask that
secular officials should be instructed to enforce their jurisdiction
and sentences, and we shall hardly be unjust if we suspect the direct
or indirect suggestion of Damasus in their further requests. They
asked that bishops might be tried _either_ by the Bishop of Rome _or_
by a council of fifteen bishops, and that the Bishop of Rome himself
might, "if his case were not laid before an (episcopal) council,"
defend himself before the Imperial Council.[36] This bold attempt of
the Roman bishop to judge all bishops, yet be judged by none, seems
to have displeased the Emperor, who may have consulted the Bishop of
Milan. We have, at least, no indication that the privilege was granted.
But the other points were granted, and instructions were issued to
the secular officers, in Gaul as well as in Italy, apprising them of
the juridical autonomy of the Church and of their duty to enforce its
decisions. Out of his troubles Damasus had won a most important step in
the making of the Papacy.
Unfriendly critics might suggest that Damasus paid a price for these
powers. A curious passage in the historian Socrates[37] tells us that,
in the year 370, Valentinian decreed that every man might henceforward
marry two wives. The statement is often rejected as preposterous,
but we know that Valentinian had, shortly before, divorced his wife,
Severa, in favour of the more comely Justina, and it is probable enough
that he passed a law of divorce. The learned Tillemont blushes when
he finds no ecclesiastical protest at the time against this flagrant
return to pagan morals.
However that may be, Damasus, from his palace by the Lateran Basilica,
continued to strengthen his new authority and to regulate the
disordered Church. Rome still harboured numbers of rebels, and they
seem to have caused him serious annoyance by a persistent charge that,
in earlier years, he had sinned with a Roman matron. A converted
and relapsed Jew was put forward as the chief witness to the charge,
and, when the young Emperor Gratian had failed to impress Rome by
his personal assurance that Damasus was innocent, a Roman synod of
forty-four bishops professed to investigate and dismiss the accusation.
Ursicinus was now, however, living at Milan, and it is not implausibly
suggested that his insistence made some impression on the puritanical
young Emperor. The case was submitted to the Council of Aquileia in
380, at which St. Ambrose presided, and the bishops declared the
innocence of Damasus and demanded the secular punishment of his
accusers, who were now scattered over Europe. The Roman rebels then
masked their hostility by joining an eccentric, though orthodox, sect
in the capital whose ascetic leader bore the name of Lucifer. On these
Luciferians in turn the hand of Damasus fell with ruthless severity.
Their renowned Macarius, the champion faster of the time outside the
Egyptian desert, was physically dragged into court and banished, and
the "police" pursued them from one secret meeting-place to another.
It is at this time that Faustinus and Marcellinus, who had joined the
rigorous sect, addressed their _Libellus_ to the Emperors.
Over the remainder of Italy and over Gaul Damasus did not press the
virtual primacy which he had won from the imperial authorities, and the
later language of Leo and Gregory makes it advisable for us to grasp
clearly the situation in the fourth century. There was no question of
Papal supremacy. No important decision was reached by Damasus apart
from a synod, and the See of Milan was not regarded as subordinate in
authority to that of Rome; though St. Ambrose naturally expressed a
peculiar respect for the doctrinal tradition of a church that had been
founded by the great apostles. When the Spanish Priscillianists applied
to Italy for aid, they appealed, says Sulpicius Severus, "to the _two_
bishops who had the highest authority at that time." When the great
struggle with the pagan senators over the statue of Victory took place
in 382, it was Ambrose who championed Christianity, Damasus merely
sending to him the Roman petition. But Damasus knew the theoretical
strength of his position, and knew, as a rule, when to enforce it. In
378, the Emperors severed Illyricum (Greece, Epirus, Thessaly, and
Macedonia) from the Western Empire. Damasus at once contrived that
its bishops should look not to the Eastern churches but to himself
for direction and support, and from that time onward the Bishop of
Thessalonica became the "Vicar" of the Bishop of Rome.
We must leave this vague and imperfect primacy in the West, with its
secular foundations, and turn to the more interesting and adventurous
course of the diplomacy of Damasus in the East. The narrow limits
within which each of these sketches must be confined forbid me to
attempt to depict the extraordinary confusion of the Eastern Church. It
must suffice to say, in few words, that the struggle against paganism
was almost lost in the fiery struggle against heresy, and that the hand
of the Arian Valens smote the orthodox as violently and persistently
as the hand of any pagan emperor had done. The various refinements
of the Arian heresy, the lingering traces of old heresies, and the
vigorous beginnings of new heresies, rent each church into factions as
violent as those of Rome, and made each important See the theatre of
a truculent rivalry. Constantinople, or New Rome as it loved to call
itself, was the natural centre of the Eastern religious world, but it
was overshadowed by the Arian court and its growing pretensions were
watched by the apostolic churches of Antioch and Alexandria almost as
jealously as by Old Rome. The triumph over paganism had, before it was
half completed, given place to a dark and sanguinary confusion, from
the shores of the Euxine to the sands of the Thebaid.
In 371 St. Basil appealed to Damasus for assistance. He sent the
deacon Dorotheus with a letter[38] asking the Italians to send to the
East visitors who might report to them the condition of the churches.
Damasus, not flattered by the lowliness of the embassy or by the
smallness of the request, and still much occupied in the West, merely
sent his deacon Sabinus. To a further impassioned appeal from Basil
he gave no clearer promise of aid, and Basil indignantly observed
that it was useless to appeal to "a proud and haughty man who sits on
a lofty throne and cannot hear those who tell him the truth on the
ground below."[39] Basil made further futile appeals to the West,
though not to Damasus, and at length, in 381, the Eastern bishops met
in the Council of Constantinople, discussed their own affairs, and,
in a famous canon, awarded the See of Constantinople a primacy in the
East. Shortly afterwards a synod was held in Italy, under Ambrose,
and it sent to the Emperor Theodosius a letter in which the concern
of the Italians was plainly expressed.[40] The bishops ask Theodosius
to assist in convoking an Ecumenical Council at Rome, and say that
"it seems not unworthy that they [the Eastern bishops] should submit
to the Bishop of Rome and the other Italian bishops"; though they "do
not claim any prerogative of judgment." It is interesting to note at
this stage how the Bishop of Rome does not yet stand apart from the
other Italian bishops or claim jurisdiction over the East. In a letter
written by Damasus somewhere about this time to certain oriental
bishops, there is question of "reverence for the Apostolic See" and
of the foundation of that See by Peter, but such language is rare and
premature, and is not implausibly ascribed to St. Jerome, who was then
at Rome.[41] To the Eastern emperor and to the Eastern patriarchs it is
not addressed.
Theodosius ignored the request, and sanctioned the holding of another
Council at Constantinople. The Westerns had, in the meantime, announced
an Ecumenical Council at Rome for the summer of 382, and invited their
Eastern brethren. From one cause or other, the proceedings at Rome were
delayed, and, while the Italians still anxiously awaited the response
to their invitation, a letter came with the message that the Eastern
bishops had settled the questions in dispute, and they regretted that
they had not "the wings of a dove" in order that they might fly from
"the great city of Constantinople" to "the great city of Rome." The
letter is a model of polite and exquisite irony.[42] The statesmanship
of Damasus had hopelessly miscarried, and the Eastern and Western
branches of Christendom were farther than ever from uniting under his
presidency.
A more intimate aspect of the character of Damasus is disclosed when
we consider the condition of the Roman clergy during his Pontificate.
It almost suffices to recall that an imperial rescript of the year 370
forbade priests and monks to visit the houses of widows and orphans,
and declared that legacies to them were invalid. St. Jerome himself
deplores that there were solid reasons for thus depriving the clergy
of a privilege which every gladiator enjoyed, and that the law was
shamefully frustrated by donations.[43] Indeed, in 372, the law was
extended to nuns and bishops, and for nearly a hundred years the Roman
clergy bore the stigma which was implied by such a prohibition.
Jerome's letters ruthlessly depict the condition of the Roman
community. Fresh from his austerities in the desert of Chalcidia, the
impulsive monk was as ready to denounce vice as to encourage virtue,
and evidences of singular laxity mingle with heroic virtue in his vivid
pages. On the one hand he directed, in the sobered palace of Marcella
on the Aventine, a group of noble dames in the practice of the most
rigorous piety and the cultivation of sacred letters. The populace even
threatened to fling him into the river, when the lovely and high-born
Blesilla terminated her austerities by a premature death, and even
Christian writers fiercely contested this introduction into Rome of
the ideals of the Egyptian desert. But, on the other hand, Jerome's
directions to his pupils incidentally betray that, beyond his little
school of virtue and learning, he saw nothing but sin and worldliness.
In plain and crude speech he warns his pupils to shun their Christian
neighbours and distrust the priests. Sombre as are many of the letters
which Seneca wrote in the days of Nero, not one of them can compare
with Jerome's lengthy letter to the gentle maiden Eustochium.[44] He
fills her virgin mind with a comprehensive picture of frailty and
frivolity, and tells her that she may regard, not as a Christian,
but as a Manichæan, any austere-looking woman whom she may meet on
the streets of Rome. He denounces "the new genus of concubines," the
"spiritual brothers and sisters," who share the same house, even the
same bed, and, if you protest, complain that you are evil-minded.
Eustochium is to avoid gatherings of Christian women, and must never be
alone with these clerics, who, exquisitely dressed, their hair curled
and oiled, their fingers glittering with rings, spend the livelong day
wheedling presents out of their wealthy admirers. I omit the graver
details given in this and other letters of the outraged monk.
The impartial historian cannot regard with reserve the criticisms which
Ammianus passed on his pagan fellows and then literally accept Jerome's
more severe strictures on his fellow-Christians. There is exaggeration
on both sides. Yet no one now questions that the Christian community at
Rome, lay and clerical, had in the days of Damasus fallen far below its
ideals, and it is not pleasant that we find little or no trace of an
episcopal struggle against this corruption. It is sometimes said that
the rescript which prevented priests from inheriting was passed at the
request of the Pope. For this statement there is no historical ground
whatever, and it is in the highest degree improbable. It is clear that
prosperity had lowered the character of the Church, from its bishop
down to its grave-diggers; and the laments of St. Ambrose at Milan,
of St. Chrysostom at Antioch and Constantinople, and of St. Augustine
in Africa, indicate a general relaxation. The Roman world must pass
through another severe and searching trial before men like Leo I. and
Gregory I. arise in it.
This conception of Damasus as a courtly and lenient prelate is not
materially modified when we regard his more strictly religious work.
He restored the Church of St. Lawrence, in which he and his father had
served: he built a tiny _basilica_--little more than a princely tomb
for himself, Marucchi believes--on the Via Ardeatina: he erected a new
baptistery at St. Peter's. These are not exceptionally impressive works
of piety in so prosperous an age.
Damasus was an artist: not--if we judge him by his _Epigrams_--a man
of much inspiration, but one who perceived the value of art in the
service of religion. Jerome tells us that he wrote in prose and verse
on the beauty of virginity, but we know his very modest poetical talent
only from the surviving fifty or sixty inscriptions with which he
adorned the graves of the martyrs or the chapels.[45] He had a genuine
passion for the adornment and popularization of the Catacombs. They
were already falling into decay, and Damasus cleared the galleries,
made new air-shafts, and decorated the more important chambers with
marble slabs and silver rails. No doubt he did this in part with a view
to attracting the pagans, but there can be little doubt that he had a
strong personal sentiment for the work.
With the assistance of Jerome, he also endeavoured to improve the
literary standard of the Church. Jerome revised the "Old Italian"
translation of the Bible; and it seems probable that the canon of
the Scriptures which has until recently been regarded as part of a
"Gelasian Decree" was composed by Jerome, under the authority of
Damasus, and promulgated by a Roman synod. The canon can hardly be due
to the pen which wrote the rambling and uncultivated list of books
which follows it; probably a later hand united the two and ascribed
them to Gelasius.[46]
The eighteen years' Pontificate of Damasus came to a close in 384. He
is not in the line of heroic Popes. He was, at his elevation, in his
seventh decade of life and his remaining energy was largely spent in
struggling against the disastrous consequences of his election. He
succeeded rather by geniality of temper and the services of others than
by strong personal exertion. But he was lucky in his opportunities.
He had control of the new wealth of the Papacy, and the Emperors with
whom he had to deal were the indifferent or undiscerning Valentinian
and the pious and youthful Gratian. Hence he added materially to the
foundations of the mediæval Papacy. One might almost venture to say
that the dogmatic Roman conception of a primacy inherited from Peter
dates from the scriptural discussions of Damasus and Jerome. They were
not the authors of that conception, but it would henceforward form the
essential part of the Papal attitude.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 26: His latest biographer, the learned Father Marucchi, says
305, but St. Jerome does not say that he was "eighty years old" at
death (in 384); he says, "nearly eighty." See Father Marucchi's _Il
Papa Damaso_ (1907) and _Christian Epigraphy_ (English trans. 1912), M.
Rade's _Damasus, Bischof von Rom_ (1882) is a little more critical.]
[Footnote 27: The less flattering statements about Damasus are
generally taken from a certain _Libellus precum_, or petition, which
was presented to the Emperors by two hostile, though esteemed and
orthodox, priests about the year 384. The attack on Damasus is,
however, in a preface to the petition, which was probably not put
before the Emperors. We must make allowance for bitter hostility,
but we shall find some of their strangest statements confirmed by
the highest authorities. The _Libellus_ is reproduced in Migne's
_Patrologia Latina_, vol. iii.]
[Footnote 28: The _Liber Pontificalis_, which gives these events,
first lets the schismatic Felix die in peace, and then introduces into
the series of Pontiffs a Felix II., saint and martyr! To this day the
fortunate Felix bears these honours in the liturgy. It was discovered,
in 1582, that the Anti-Pope Felix had been confused with a real saint
and martyr of that name, and the question of displacing him was debated
at Rome. But the miraculous discovery of an inscription in his favour
put an end to criticism. The genuine authorities are agreed that Felix
died comfortably in his house on the road to the Port of Rome.]
[Footnote 29: XXVII., 3.]
[Footnote 30: Year 369.]
[Footnote 31: II., 10.]
[Footnote 32: _Saint Jerome_, 1867.]
[Footnote 33: Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum Collectio_, iii., 625.]
[Footnote 34: Mansi, iii., 628.]
[Footnote 35: _Ep._, xxi.]
[Footnote 36: Mansi, iii., 624.]
[Footnote 37: IV., 26.]
[Footnote 38: _Ep._, lxx.]
[Footnote 39: _Ep._, ccxv.; see also _Ep._, ccxxxix. and cclxvi., for
violent language. All the letters of the Popes, up to Innocent III.,
are in this work quoted from the Migne edition.]
[Footnote 40: Mansi, iii., 631.]
[Footnote 41: The letter is in Theodoret, _Ecclesiastical History_, v.,
10.]
[Footnote 42: Theodoret, v., 9.]
[Footnote 43: _Ep._, lii.]
[Footnote 44: _Ep._, xxii.]
[Footnote 45: The best collection is Ihm's _Damasi Epigrammata_ (1895).]
[Footnote 46: There is a third part of this "Gelasian Decree," which
assigns to the Papacy an absolute primacy derived from Peter. It is
improbable that this was due to Damasus. A letter hitherto ascribed
to Pope Sirianus (_Ep._, x. in Migne) has lately been claimed for
Damasus (Babut, _La plus ancienne décrétale_, 1904), but there is not
enough evidence to date it. It is a series of directions, better known
as _Canons of the Romans to the Bishops of Gaul_, on the subject of
clerical celibacy, fallen virgins, etc.]
CHAPTER III
LEO THE GREAT, THE LAST POPE OF IMPERIAL ROME
During the half-century which followed the death of Damasus occurred
two of the decisive events in the transformation of the Roman Empire
into Christian Europe. Paganism was destroyed, and the Empire was
shattered. Jerome had, with rhetorical inaccuracy, described the great
temple of Jupiter as squalid and deserted in the days of Damasus. Now
it was in truth deserted, for the imperial seal was set on its closed
doors; and the same seal guarded the door of the temples of Isis and
Mithra. The homeless gods had sheltered for a time in the schools and
in patrician mansions, but these also had fallen with the Empire. The
southern half of Europe became a disordered, semi-Christian world, over
which poured from the northern forests fresh armies of barbarians.
The City of Man was wrecked; and it was not unnatural that the Papacy
should aspire to make its old metropolis the centre of the new City of
God.
Two Popes of weak ability had followed Damasus, and witnessed, rather
than accomplished, the ruin of the old religion. It was Ambrose who
had directed the convenient youth of Gratian and Valentinian II., and
had dislodged the pagans and other rivals at the point of the spear.
Innocent I. (402-417) was a greater man: an upright priest, an able
statesman, a zealous believer in the divine right of Popes. Milman
has finely drawn him serenely holding his sceptre at Rome while the
Emperor cowered behind the fortifications at Ravenna. While Rome
tumbled in ruins about him, he continued calmly to tell the bishops
of Gaul and Spain and Italy what the "Apostolic See" directed them to
do. His puny yet bombastic successor, Zosimus, maintained the solitary
blunder, without the redeeming personality, of Innocent, and might
have wrecked the Papacy if he had not died within a year or so. The
worthier Boniface and still worthier Celestine restored Roman prestige
in some measure, and, in 440, after the edifying but undistinguished
Pontificate of Sixtus III., Leo the Great entered the chronicle.
Leo, a Roman of Tuscan extraction, was the chief deacon of the Roman
Church, and corresponded with Cyril of Alexandria on Eastern affairs.
It was probably at his instigation that the learned Cassianus wrote his
treatise _On the Incarnation of Christ_. In 440, Leo was sent by the
Emperor to reconcile the generals Aetius and Albinus, who quarrelled
while the Empire perished. Sixtus died in his absence, and Leo was
unanimously elected to the Papacy. Toward the close of September he
returned to Rome, and glanced about the troubled world which he had now
to rule.
The dogmatic Papal conception, which we find dawning in the mind
of Damasus and see very clear in the mind of Innocent I. and his
successors, reached its full development, on the spiritual side, in
the mind of Leo the Great. This development was inevitable. There were
Eastern, and even some Western, bishops who maintained, against Leo,
that the prestige of the Roman See was merely the prestige of Rome,
but the answer of the Papacy was easy and effective. In the Gospels
which Europe now treasured, Peter was the "rock" on which the Church
was built, and to him alone had been given the keys of the kingdom of
heaven. Had the Church lost its foundation when Peter died? Were the
keys buried beside the bones of Peter in that marble tomb at the foot
of the Vatican? There was, from the clerical point of view, logic in
the Roman bishop's claim to have inherited the princedom. Leo from
the first hour of his Pontificate was sincerely convinced of it. His
sermons are full of it. To him is committed "the care of all the
Churches": a phrase which he bequeaths to his successors. He is the new
type of Roman, blending the ideas of Jerome and Augustine. The wreck of
the City of Man matters little. What matters is that these Arian Goths
and Vandals are trampling on the City of God: that the churches of Gaul
and Spain and Italy and Africa and the East are in disorder, and the
successor of Peter must restore their discipline. He is so absorbed in
his divine duty that he does not notice how the circumstances favour
him. Every other lofty head in the Empire is bowed, and from the
seething and impoverished provinces hundreds are looking to the strong
man at Rome.
His early letters are the letters of a Supreme Pontiff. The African
bishops, he hears, suffer dreadful disorders in their churches.
Elections to church-dignities are bought and sold: even laymen and
twice-married clerics become bishops. With serene indifference to
the earlier history of the African Church and its tradition of
independence, he peremptorily recalls the canons and insists on their
observance.[47] Fortunately for him, the long struggle against the
Donatists and the devastating onset of the Vandals have enfeebled,
almost annihilated, the African Church, and there is none to question
his authority.
He hears that Anatolius has been made Bishop of Thessalonica, and
writes[48] to remind him that he is the "vicar" of the Roman bishop,
the successor of Peter, "on the solidity of which foundation the
Church is established." When, at a later date, Anatolius uses his
power harshly, he sternly rebukes him. And it is interesting to notice
what the discipline is on which he insists in this letter.[49] Even
subdeacons shall not marry, or, if they are married, shall not know
their wives. We are very far away from Callistus.
Another aspect of Leo's character appears in his treatment of the
Manichæans at Rome: an interesting illustration of how he kept the
strength and serenity of the old Roman though lacking his culture. Leo
had a terribly sombre idea of the Manichæans. They lingered in obscure
corners of the metropolis, and met stealthily, just as Christians had
done two centuries earlier; and of them were told, as had been told
of the obscure Christians, dreadful stories. Leo conducted a great
inquisition in 444, and brought the Manichæan bishop, with his "elect,"
to a solemn judgment before the clergy and nobles of Rome. There, he
says,[50] they all confessed that the violation of a girl of ten years
was part of their ritual. He called down upon them the secular arm,
and crushed them in Rome and Italy. What sort of a judicial process
was employed to elicit this extraordinary confession--so utterly at
variance with all that we know of the ascetic Manichæans--we are
not told. But we are painfully reminded of a similar declaration of
Augustine in his old age.[51]
In Gaul, the Pope encountered one of the last opponents of Papal aims
in the West. The province was completely demoralized by the triumphant
barbarians and by the arrival of lax clergy from Africa. In a letter of
uncertain date,[52] Leo gives us a dark picture of the state of things
in the southern provinces, and this is more than confirmed in the work
of the Marseilles priest Salvianus, _De Gubernatione Dei_. Laymen
pose as bishops, Leo says: priests sleep with their wives, and marry
their daughters to men who keep concubines: monks serve in the army,
or marry: and so on. From this disordered world men were ever ready
to appeal to the authority of Rome, and, in 445, a Bishop Celidonius
came to complain of the harshness of his metropolitan, the austere and
saintly Hilary of Arles. Hilary followed his Bishop to Rome, and, when
Leo decided against him, the saint made use, says Leo,[53] of "language
which no layman even should dare to use and no priest to hear," and
then "fled disgracefully" from Rome.
Again we are in a dilemma between two saints, and we must weigh as best
we can the letters of Leo against the biography of Hilary. It will be
found a general truth of early Papal history that the man who _appeals_
to Rome is heard more indulgently than the opponent who did not appeal.
Hilary, who had deposed the Bishop in plain accordance with the rules,
resented Leo's conduct, and scoffed at his supposed supremacy. He
then apprehended violence, and stealthily left Rome for Gaul. Leo
thereupon--or after hearing new charges against Hilary--wrote to the
bishops of Vienne[54] that they were released from obedience to Hilary,
who was thenceforward to confine himself to Arles. Whether Hilary ever
submitted or no we have no certain knowledge, but the affair had an
important sequel. In the same year (449), an imperial rescript,[55]
confessedly obtained by Leo, confirmed the sentence, and added:
We lay down this for ever, that neither the bishops of Gaul nor those
of any other province shall attempt anything contrary to ancient
usage, without the authority of the venerable man, the Pope of the
Eternal City.
Even in the height of this quarrel other provinces were not neglected,
as a few letters of the year 447 amply show. The letter to the Spanish
Bishop Turribius of Astorga[56] is notable as the first explicit Papal
approval of the execution of a heretic. It is usual to point out that
the errors of Priscillian, the heretic in question, were believed to
include magical practices (then a legal and social crime) as well as
Manichæan and Gnostic tenets. But we must recognize one of the most
terrible principles of the Middle Ages, and something far more than
social zeal, in the following words of Leo:
Although ecclesiastical mildness shrinks from blood-punishments, yet
it is aided by the severe decrees of Christian princes, since they who
fear corporal suffering will have recourse to spiritual remedies.
Here is no reference to legal or social crimes, but to an error which
concerns the ecclesiastic. Similar letters, enforcing discipline in the
accents of an undisputed head of the Church, were sent to the bishops
of Sicily,[57] the bishop of Beneventum,[58] and the bishop of Aquileia.
These quotations from the letters and sermons of Leo will suffice,
not only to show the untiring energy and lofty aim of the man, but
to convince us that the primacy of Rome in the West is now won. West
of the Adriatic, St. Hilary is the last great rebel against the Roman
conception. It is true that this spiritual supremacy is still, in part,
reliant on "the severe decrees of Christian princes," but the imperial
authority is fast fading into nothing, and in another generation the
Papal autocracy will stand alone. Leo was not ambitious. Something of
the instinctive masterliness of the older Roman may be detected in his
actions, but he was a profoundly religious man, seeking neither wealth
nor honours of earth, convinced at once that he discharged a divine
duty and exerted an authority of the most beneficent value to that
disordered Christendom. The calamities of Europe had changed the empty
glories of a Damasus into a power second only to that of Octavian.
When we turn to the East we have not only a most valuable indication of
the evolution of Christendom into two independent and hostile Churches,
but an even more interesting revelation of subtle and unexpected shades
in the character of Leo. The great Pope, aided by the very calamities
of the time, fastens his primacy on Europe; and, with even mightier
exertions and the most tense use of all his resources, he proves that
an extension of that primacy to the East is for ever impossible.
His friendly correspondence with Cyril of Alexandria was resumed in
the year 444, and, in the adjustment of their differences, Leo made
concessions. In the same year, Cyril died, and his successor Dioscorus
was addressed with the same recognition of equality. There are
differences in points of discipline, but Leo is content to say[59]:
"Since the blessed Peter was made chief of the apostles by the Lord,
and the Roman Church abides by his instructions, it is impossible to
suppose that his holy disciple Mark, who first ruled the Church of
Alexandria, gave it other regulations." Five years later, however, Leo
received from the East an appeal against the Bishop of Constantinople,
and a notable conflict began.
In the unending struggle in the East over the nature of Christ, the
monks, a fierce and turbulent rabble living on the fringes of the great
cities, had been the most effective champions of orthodoxy, and great
was their excitement when the archimandrite (or abbot) of one of their
large monasteries outside Constantinople was accused of heresy. The
heresy is really diagnosed as such by the proper authorities, but it is
not superfluous for the historian to observe that the monk Eutyches was
godson of the most powerful eunuch at the court, and this eunuch was
detested by the virtuous Empress Pulcheria and by Flavian, the Bishop
of Constantinople. Eutyches was condemned by a synod in 448, and he
appealed to Leo. I have observed that the appealer--especially from
a province where Roman authority was disputed--always had a gracious
hearing at the Lateran. In February, 449, Leo wrote to Flavian[60] to
express his surprise that he had not sent a report of the proceedings
to Rome and that he had disregarded the appeal which the monk had made
from his sentence to Rome. However, since appeal _has_ been made to
Leo, "we want to know the reasons of your action, and we desire a full
account to be communicated to us." Flavian's reply[61] curtly described
the heresy and trusted that Leo would see the justice of the sentence.
In the early summer, the Emperors of East and West issued a joint
summons to the bishops of Christendom to assemble in Council at
Ephesus, and Leo's letters indicate a feverish activity. His chief work
was to write a long dogmatic letter[62] on the nature of Christ--a
very able theological essay--to be read by his Legates at the Council.
Dioscorus of Alexandria presided over this imposing assembly of 360
bishops and representative clergy, in the presence of two imperial
commissioners, the Papal Legates, and the patriarchs of Antioch and
Jerusalem, yet it has passed into Western ecclesiastical history
under the opprobrious title, given to it by Leo,[63] of "The Robbers'
Meeting." It is quite true that the sittings dissolved in brawls, and
monks and soldiers brandished their ominous weapons over the heads of
the bishops, but that was not unprecedented. The main fact was that
Dioscorus contemptuously refused to hear the Roman Legates, as Leo
says, and induced the Council to restore Eutyches and depose Flavian.
Deacon Hilary, one of the Legates, fled in terror of his life, and
unfolded these enormities to Leo, whose correspondence now became
intense and indignant.
For a few months, Leo made strenuous efforts to redeem the prestige
of his See. We know, since 1882, that Flavian in turn appealed to
Rome, but Leo needed no new incentive. He wrote repeatedly to the
pious Pulcheria, to Theodosius, to his "vicar" in Thessalonica, and
to the monks, priests, and people of Constantinople. He knew the
situation well. Alexandria had defied Constantinople, but the case of
Constantinople was weakened by the division of court-factions and the
monkish support of Eutyches. It seemed an admirable occasion for Rome
to adjudicate, and Leo pressed Theodosius and Pulcheria[64] to summon
an Ecumenical Council at Rome. In the thick of the struggle (February,
450), Valentinian III. visited Rome with the court, and Leo, with tears
in his eyes, besought the Empress Galla Placidia to work for the Roman
Council. Galla Placidia knew no more than the monks about theology, and
was more concerned about her wayward daughter Honoria, but she urged
Pulcheria to ensure the holding of the Council at Rome. Presently there
came from Constantinople the news that Theodosius was dead, Pulcheria
was mistress of the court, the eunuch-godfather had been executed, the
monk exiled, and the Archbishop Flavian restored to his See.
But the more agreeable aspect of this situation was soon darkened by
a report that the people of Constantinople had compelled Pulcheria
to contract a virginal marriage with Marcian, and the new Emperor
had summoned an Ecumenical Council in the East. Leo, for reasons
which we may understand presently, now made every effort to prevent
the holding of a Council,[65] but the Emperor would not endanger his
position by flouting the Eastern Church, and, on October 8th, some
six hundred bishops gathered at Chalcedon. Four Legates represented
Leo, and were awarded a kind of presidency of the Council. Leo's great
doctrinal letter was received with thunders of applause, and, when it
was speedily decided to condemn Dioscorus (who had gone the length of
excommunicating Leo), it was one of the Papal Legates who pronounced
the sonorous sentence. But all knew that these compliments were the
prelude to a very serious struggle.
After the fourteenth session, the Papal Legates and imperial
commissioners affected to believe that the business of the day was
over. Later in the day, however, a fifteenth session was held, and the
two hundred bishops present framed the famous twenty-eighth canon of
the Council of Chalcedon. It runs:
As in all things we follow the ordinances of the holy fathers and
know the recently read canon of the hundred and fifty bishops [of
the Council of Constantinople], so do we decree the same in regard
to the privileges of the most holy Church of Constantinople. Rightly
have the fathers conceded to the See of Old Rome its privileges on
account of its character as the Imperial City, and, moved by the same
considerations, the one hundred and fifty bishops have awarded the
like privileges to the most Holy See of New Rome.[66]
This drastic restriction of the Roman bishop to the West, and
disdainful assurance that the prestige of the city of Rome was the
only basis of his primacy, was read in the next session, and the Papal
Legates were gravely disturbed. There can be very little doubt that,
as Hefele says, the Legates had abstained from the fifteenth session
because they knew that this canon would be discussed and passed. There
was no secrecy about it, and there was much in previous sessions that
led to it. Indeed, it is clear that Leo himself knew of the design,
and this probably explains his resistance, which has puzzled many, to
the holding of the Council. In the heat of the discussion, the Roman
Legate, Boniface, produced this instruction from Leo: "If any, taking
their stand on the importance of their cities, should endeavour to
arrogate anything to themselves, resist them with all decision."[67]
Bishop Eusebius of Dorylæum (the accuser of Eutyches) then said that
he had read the third canon of Constantinople to Leo at Rome some time
before the Council, and that Leo had assented to it. Leo afterwards
denied this, but we must assume that he merely denied having consented,
not the reading of the canon to him. It is quite clear that Leo
prepared his Legates for this discussion.
It implies no reflection whatever on the character of Leo that he
should instruct his Legates diplomatically to obstruct the passing
of a canon which he regarded as contrary to a divine ordination. But
the next act of his Legates is more serious. Bishop Paschasinus, the
chief Legate, produced and read, in Latin, the sixth canon of the
famous Council of Nicæa, and the Greeks were amazed to learn, when it
was translated, that it awarded the primacy to Rome. There is now no
doubt that this was a spurious or adulterated canon, and the feelings
of the Greeks, when they consulted the genuine canon, can be imagined.
The session closed in a weak compromise. The Legates were allowed to
protest that the twenty-eighth canon was passed in their absence, and
was injurious to the rights of their Bishop, "who presided over the
whole Church." The Greeks politely registered their protest, endorsed
the canon, and proceeded to indite a very Greek letter to the Roman
Bishop. They express to Leo[68] their deep joy at the successful
congress, their entire respect for "the voice of Peter," their loving
gratitude that, through his Legates, he had presided over them "as the
head over the members"; but they admit that one of their canons did
not commend itself to his Legates and they trust that he will at once
gratify their Emperor by endorsing it! Christendom was divided into two
parts.
The sequel matters little. The Legates returned and declared that the
signatures to the canon had been extorted (as Leo afterwards wrote),
though this point had been raised in their presence by the imperial
commissioners, and its falsity put beyond dispute. To Marcian, to
Pulcheria, and to the new Bishop of Constantinople, Anatolius, Leo
wrote acrid letters, denouncing the miserable vanity and ambition
of Anatolius and the violation of the (spurious) canons of Nicæa.
Marcian curtly requested him--almost ordered him[69]--to confirm the
results of the Council without delay, and Leo signed the doctrinal
decisions. There the matter ended. Rome affected to treat the famous
canon as invalid, and the East genially ignored the absence of Leo's
signature.[70]
In the midst of his feverish efforts to defeat this Eastern rebellion,
Leo was summoned to meet the terrible King of the Huns, and the memory
of his triumph, gathering volume from age to age, has completely
obliterated his failure to dominate the Greeks. Italy, painfully
enfeebled by the Goths, now saw "the scourge of God" slowly descend
its northern slopes and prepare for a raid on the south. Leo and a
group of Roman officials met Attila on the banks of the Mincio, and the
ferocious King and his dreaded Huns meekly turned their backs on Italy
and retired to the East. Pen and brush and legend have embellished that
wonderful deliverance until it has become a mystery and a miracle, but
it was neither mystery nor miracle to the men who first made a scanty
record of it. Jornandes[71] following the older historian Priscus,
says that Attila was hesitating whether to advance on Rome or no at
the moment when Leo and his companions arrived; his officers were
trying to dissuade him, and were appealing to his superstition with a
reminder of the fate of Alaric after he had sacked Rome. Prosper merely
says in his _Chronicle_ that Leo was well received, and succeeded.
Idatius, Bishop of Aquæ Flaviæ at the time, does not even mention Leo
in his _Chronicle_. The Huns, he says, were severely stricken by war,
by famine, and by some epidemic, and, "being in this plight, they made
peace with the Romans and departed."[72] But Rome at the time knew
nothing of these fortunate circumstances, and, in the delirious joy of
its deliverance, imagined the savage Hun shrinking in awe before its
venerable Bishop: kept on imagining, indeed, until some pious fancy of
the eighth century believed that the holy apostles had appeared beside
the Pope.
When, a few years later (455) a fresh invasion threatened Rome--when
the vicious incompetence of the court amid all its desolation set afoot
another feud and brought the Vandals from Africa--Leo went out once
more to plead for the impoverished city. Genseric was not a savage;
the Vandals are libelled by the grosser implication we associate with
their name today. Yet he altered not one step of his onward course at
the petitions or the threats of the venerable Pontiff. To say that he
consented to refrain from slaying or torturing those who submitted, and
from firing the city, is merely to say that Leo failed to wring any
concession from the largely civilized Vandal. The aged Pontiff sadly
returned with his clergy, and for a whole fortnight had to listen in
the Lateran Palace to the shrieks of the women who were dragged from
their homes, and to receive accounts of the plundering of his churches.
The Church of St. Peter and, probably, the Lateran Church alone were
spared. And when the Vandal ships had sailed away with their thousands
of noble captives, including the Empress Eudoxia, and their mounds of
silver, bronze, and marble, Leo had to melt down the larger vessels of
the great _basilicas_ to find the necessary chalices for his priests.
Ancestral feelings must have stirred unconsciously in the mind of
Leo when he beheld this second ravage of the city of his fathers,
but he at once resumed his Pontifical rule. On his return from the
north of Italy, he had found occasion to act once more in the East
as if the canon of the last Council were forgotten. Now the monks
of Palestine had asserted their unyielding zeal, had driven the
patriarch of Jerusalem from his seat, and had won to their cause
the romantic Empress Eudoxia (of the Eastern court) whose suspected
amours had brought on her a polite sentence of exile. Leo at once,
somewhat superfluously, called the pious Marcian's attention to the
ecclesiastical disorders in his kingdom, and, apparently at that
Emperor's request, wrote paternal admonitions to Eudoxia and to the
monks. It was gratifying to be able to report presently that the
disorders were at an end.
Later (in 453) the monks of Cappadocia gave trouble; and the monks
and other supporters of the deposed Dioscorus at Alexandria entered
upon a far graver agitation, and murdered their new archbishop. The
pious Marcian, to make matters worse, died (457), and, by one of those
strange intrigues which disgraced the Eastern court, Leo the Isaurian,
an astute peasant, mounted the golden throne. On this man Leo's
diplomatic mixture of courtly language and high sacerdotal pretensions
made little impression. In spite of Leo's protests[73] he called
another General Council, and Leo had to be content to send Legates to
inform the assembled bishops what is "the rule of apostolic faith";
which he again set forth in a long dogmatic epistle.[74] To the last
year, Leo maintained, serenely and unswervingly, his calm assumption
of jurisdiction over the East. Whether he wrote to the patriarch of
Antioch,[75] or the patriarch of Constantinople,[76] or the patriarchs
of Jerusalem and Alexandria, he spoke as if his sovereignty had never
been questioned. "The care of all the churches" lies on his shoulders.
He disdains diplomacy and argument. His tone is arrogant and dogmatic
in the highest degree, yet no man can read reflectively those long and
imperious epistles and not realize that he spoke, not as the individual
Leo, demanding personal prestige, but as the successor of Peter,
obeying a command which, he sincerely believed, Christ had laid upon
him.
So the Papacy was built up. Leo went his way on November 10, 461, and
was buried, fitly, in the vestibule of St. Peter's. He had formulated
for all time the Papal conception that the successor of Peter had the
care of all the churches of the world. A bishop shall not buy his seat
in Numidia: a rabble of monks shall not rebel in Syria: a prelate
shall not harshly treat his clergy in Gaul, but the Bishop of Rome must
see to it. How that gaunt frame of duty was perfected in the next two
centuries, and how the prosperity of later times hid the austere frame
under a garment of flesh, is the next great chapter in the evolution of
the Roman Pontificate.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 47: _Ep._, xii.]
[Footnote 48: _Ep._, vi.]
[Footnote 49: _Ep._, xiv.]
[Footnote 50: Sermon xvi.]
[Footnote 51: See the author's _Saint Augustine and His Age_, p. 409.]
[Footnote 52: _Ep._, clxvii.]
[Footnote 53: _Ep._, x., 3.]
[Footnote 54: _Ep._, x.]
[Footnote 55: _Ep._, xi., in Migne.]
[Footnote 56: _Ep._, xv.]
[Footnote 57: XVI. and xvii.]
[Footnote 58: XIX.]
[Footnote 59: _Ep._, ix.]
[Footnote 60: _Ep._, xxiii.]
[Footnote 61: _Ep._, xxvi.]
[Footnote 62: The "Tome of Leo," _Ep._, xxviii.]
[Footnote 63: _Ep._, xcv.]
[Footnote 64: _Ep._, xliii. and xlv.]
[Footnote 65: _Ep._, lxxxii. and lxxxiii.]
[Footnote 66: Hefele's _History of the Councils of the Church_, iii.,
411.]
[Footnote 67: Hefele, iii., 425.]
[Footnote 68: _Ep._, xcviii.]
[Footnote 69: _Ep._, cx.]
[Footnote 70: In a letter which he wrote about the time (_Ep._,
ciii.) to the bishops of Gaul, Leo tells them that Dioscorus has been
condemned, and says that he encloses a copy of the sentence. The copy
appended to the letter is spurious, for it contains an allusion to
"the holy and most blessed Pope, head of the universal Church, Leo
... the foundation and rock of faith." But I do not think one can say
confidently that this is the actual document sent by Leo.]
[Footnote 71: _De Rebus Geticis_, xlii.]
[Footnote 72: The Chronicles of Prosper and Idatius are in Migne, vol.
li. Idatius adds that Attila was threatened (in his rear) by the troops
of Marcian, though we cannot trace such a movement of the Eastern
troops. It was enough that Attila believed it.]
[Footnote 73: _Ep._, clxii.]
[Footnote 74: CLXV.]
[Footnote 75: CXLIX.]
[Footnote 76: CLXX.]
CHAPTER IV
GREGORY THE GREAT, THE FIRST MEDIÆVAL POPE
Seventeen Pontiffs successively ruled in the Lateran Palace during the
hundred and thirty years which separate the death of Leo I. and the
accession of Gregory I. The first seven were not unworthy to succeed
Leo, although one of them, Anastasius (496-498), is unjustly committed
to Dante's hell for his liberality.[77]
During their tenure of office the Arian Ostrogoth Theodoric set up his
promising kingdom in Italy, and the stricken country partly recovered.
But the succeeding Popes were smaller-minded men, looking darkly on the
heresy of Theodoric and longing to see him displaced by the Catholic
Eastern Emperor. Their unfortunate policy was crowned by a betrayal of
Rome to the troops of Justinian; and its fruit was the establishment
on the throne of Peter, by the unscrupulous Theodora, of the sorriest
adventurer that had yet defiled it (Pope Vigilius), the reduction of
Italy to the state of a province of the corrupt and extortionate East,
and a lamentable dependence of the See of Rome on the whim of the
Byzantine autocrat. Seeing its increasing feebleness, a new and fiercer
tribe of the barbarians, the Lombards, poured over Italy; and it was a
city of ruins, a kingdom of desolation, a continent of anarchy, which
Gregory I. was, in the year 590, forced to undertake to control.
At Rome the monuments of what was shudderingly called a pagan age were
falling, year by year, into the soil which would preserve them for a
more appreciative race. In Gregory's day, across the Tiber from the
old quarter, there were to be seen only the mouldering crowns of the
theatres and amphitheatres, the grass-girt ruins on the Capitol and
on the Palatine, and the charred skeletons of thousands of patrician
mansions on the more distant hills. Forty thousand Romans now trembled
where a million had once boasted their eternal empire. And, as one
sees in some fallen forest, a new life was springing up on the ruins.
Beside the decaying Neronian Circus rose the Basilica of St. Peter's,
to which strange types of pilgrims made their way under the modest
colonnade leading from the river. From the heart of the old Laterani
Palace towered the great Basilica of the Saviour (later of St. John)
and the mansion of the new rulers of the world. The temples were
still closed, and tumbling into ruins; for no one yet proposed to
convert into churches those abodes of evil spirits, which one passed
hurriedly at night. But on all sides churches had been built out of
the fallen stones, and monks and nuns trod the dismantled fora, and
new processions filed along the decaying streets. If you mounted
the hills, you would see the once prosperous Campagna a poisonous
marsh, sending death into the city every few years; and you would
learn that such was the condition of much of Italy, where the Lombard
now completed the work of Goth and Greek, and that from the gates of
Constantinople to the forests of Albion this incomprehensible brood of
barbarians was treading under foot what remained of Roman civilization.
The book of what we call ancient history was closed: the Middle Age
was beginning. Gregory was peculiarly adapted to impress the world at
this stage of transition. His father, Gordianus, had been a wealthy
patrician, with large estates in Sicily and a fine mansion on the
Cælian hill. De Rossi would make him a descendant of the great family
of the Anicii, but the deduction is strained. Gregory's mother was a
saint. He inherited vigour and administrative ability, and was reared
in the most pious and most credulous spirit of the time. He was put to
letters, and we are told that he excelled all others in every branch
of culture. Let us say, from his works, that--probably using the
writings of the Latin fathers as models--he learned to write a Latin
which Jerome would almost have pronounced barbarous, but which people
of the sixth century would think excellent, at times elegant. There
was very little culture left in Rome in Gregory's days.[78] About the
time when Gregory came into the world (540), Cassiodorus was quitting
it to found a monastic community on his estate, and he had the happy
idea of rescuing some elements of Roman culture from the deluge;
though to him culture meant Donatus and Martianus Capella rather than
the classics. He succeeded, too, in engaging the industry of the
Benedictine monks, to some extent, in copying manuscripts. Culture was,
happily, not suffered to die. In Rome, however, it sank very low, and,
for centuries, the Latin of the Papal clerks or the Popes is generally
atrocious.
Gregory, in 573, was Prefect of Rome when it was beset by the Lombards.
The desolation which ensued may have finally convinced him that the
end of the world approached: a belief which occurs repeatedly in his
letters and sermons. In the following year, he sold his possessions,
built six monasteries in Sicily, converted his Roman mansion into the
monastery of St. Andrew, and, after giving the rest of his fortune
to the poor, began a life of stern asceticism and meditation on the
Scriptures. One day he saw some Anglo-Saxon slaves in the market, and
he set off to convert these fair, blue-eyed islanders to the faith. But
Pope Benedict recalled him and found an outlet for his great energy in
secretarial duties at the Lateran.
Pelagius, who in 578 succeeded Benedict, sent Gregory to
Constantinople, to ask imperial troops for Italy, and he remained
there, caring for Papal interests, for about eight years. On its
pretentious culture he looked with so much disdain that he never
learned Greek,[79] while the general corruption of clerics and laymen,
and the fierce dogmatic discussions, did not modify his belief in a
coming dissolution. He maintained his monastic life in the Placidia
Palace, and began the writing of that portentous commentary on the
book of Job which is known as his _Magna Moralia_: a monumental
illustration of his piety, his imagination, and his lack of culture,
occupying about two thousand columns of Migne's quarto edition of his
works. He returned to Rome about the year 586, without troops, but
with the immeasurably greater treasure of an arm of St. Andrew and the
head of St. Luke. Amid the plagues and famines of Italy, he returned
to his terrible fasts and dark meditations, and awaited the blast of
the archangel's trumpet. An anecdote, told by himself, depicts his
attitude. One of his monks appropriated a few crowns, violating his vow
of poverty. Gregory refused the dying man the sacraments, and buried
him in a dunghill. He completed his commentary on Job, and collected
endless stories of devils and angels, saints and sinners, visions and
miracles; until one day, in 590, the Romans broke into the austere
monastery with the news that Pelagius was dead and Gregory was to be
his successor. He fled from Rome in horror, but he was the ablest man
in Italy, and all united to make him Pope.
If these things do not suffice to show that Gregory was the first
mediæval Pope, read his _Dialogues_, completed a few years later; no
theologian in the world to-day would accept that phantasmagoria of
devils and angels and miracles. It is a precious monument of Gregory's
world: the early mediæval world. There is the same morbid, brooding
imagination in his commentary on the prophecies of Ezekiel, which he
found congenial; and in many passages of the forty sermons in which,
disdaining flowers of rhetoric and rules of grammar, he tells his
people the deep-felt, awful truths of his creed.
Characteristic also is the incident which occurred during his temporary
guidance of the Church--while he awaited an answer to the letter in
which he had begged the Emperor to release him. A fearful epidemic
raged at Rome. Without a glance at the marshes beyond, from which
it came, Gregory ordered processions of all the faithful, storming
the heavens with hymns and litanies. The figure over the old tomb of
Hadrian (or the Castle of Sant' Angelo) at Rome tells all time how
an angel appeared in the skies on that occasion, and the pestilence
ceased. But the writers who are nearest to the time tell us that eighty
of the processionists fell dead on the streets in an hour, and the
pestilence went its slow course.
Yet when we turn from these other-worldly meditations and other-worldly
plans to the eight hundred and fifty letters of the great Pope, we seem
to find an entirely different man. We seem to go back some centuries,
along that precarious line of the Anicii, and confront one of the
abler of the old patricians. Instead of credulity, we find a business
capacity which, in spite of the appalling means of communication,
organizes and controls, down to minute details, an estate which is
worth millions sterling and is scattered over half a continent.
Instead of self-effacement, we find a man who talks to archbishops
and governors of provinces as if they were acolytes of his Church,
and, at least on one occasion, tells the Eastern autocrat, before whom
courtiers shade their eyes, that he will not obey him. Instead of holy
simplicity, we find a diplomacy which treats with hostile kings in
defiance of the civil government, showers pretty compliments on the
fiery Brunichildis or the brutal Phocas, and spends years in combating
the pretensions of Constantinople. Instead of angelic meekness, we
find a warm resentment of vilification, an occasional flash of temper
which cows his opponent, a sense of dignity which rebukes his steward
for sending him "a sorry nag" or a "good ass" to ride on. We have, in
short, a man whose shrewd light-brown eyes miss no opportunity for
intervention in that disorderly world, from Angle-land to Jerusalem;
who has in every part of it spies and informers in the service of
virtue and religion, and who for fourteen years does the work of three
men. And all the time he is Gregory the monk, ruining his body by
disdainful treatment, writing commentaries on Ezekiel: a medium-sized,
swarthy man, with large bald head and straggling tawny beard, with
thick red lips and Roman nose and chin, racked by indigestion and then
by gout--but a prodigious worker.
To compress his work into a chapter is impossible; one can only give
imperfect summaries and a few significant details. He had secretaries,
of course, and we are apt to forget that the art of shorthand writing,
which was perfectly developed by the Romans, had not yet been lost
in the night of the Middle Ages. Yet every letter has the stamp of
Gregory's personality, and we recognize a mind of wonderful range and
power.
His episcopal work in Rome alone might have contented another man.
Soon after his election he wrote a long letter on the duties and
qualifications of a bishop, which, in the shape of a treatise entitled
_The Book of Pastoral Rule_, inspired for centuries the better bishops
of Europe. His palace was monastic in its severity. He discharged from
his service, in Rome and abroad, the hosts of laymen his predecessors
had employed, and replaced them with monks and clerics: incidentally
turning into monks and clerics many men who did not adorn the holy
state. He said mass daily, and used at times to go on horseback to
some appointed chapel in the city, where the people gathered to hear
his sermons on the gospels or on Ezekiel. Every shade of simony, every
pretext for ordination, except religious zeal, he sternly suppressed.
When he found that men were made deacons for their fine voices, he
forbade deacons to sing any part of the mass except the Gospel, and he
made other changes in the liturgy and encouraged the improvement of
the chant. Modern criticism does not admit the _Sacramentary_ and the
_Antiphonary_ which later ages ascribed to him, but he seems to have
given such impulse to reform that the perfected liturgy and chant of a
later date were attributed to him.[80]
His motive in these reforms was purely religious; those who would
persuade us that Gregory I. had some regard for profane culture, at
least as ancillary to religious, forget his belief is an approaching
dissolution, and overlook the nature of profane culture. It was
indissolubly connected with paganism, and Gregory would willingly have
seen every Latin classic submerged in the Tiber; while his disdain of
Greek confirmed the already prevalent ignorance which shut the Greek
classics out of Europe, to its grave disadvantage, for many centuries.
Happily, many monks and bishops were in this respect less unworldly
than Gregory, and the greater Roman writers were copied and preserved.
Gregory's attitude toward these men is well known. He hears that
Bishop Desiderius of Vienne, a very worthy prelate, is lecturing on
"grammar" (Latin literature), and he writes to tell Desiderius that he
is filled with "mourning and sorrow" that a bishop should be occupied
with so "horrible" (_nefandum_) a pursuit.[81] It has been frivolously
suggested that perhaps Desiderius had been lecturing on the classics in
church, but Gregory is quite plain: the reading of the pagan writers is
an unfit occupation even for "a religious layman."[82] In the preface
to his _Magna Moralia_ he scorns "the rules of Donatus"; and so sore a
memory of his attitude remained among the friends of Latin letters that
Christian tradition charged him with having burned the libraries of the
Capitol and of the Palatine and with having mutilated the statues and
monuments of older Rome.[83]
The work of Gregory in Rome, however, was not confined to liturgy
and discipline. The tradition of parasitism at Rome was not dead,
and, as there was now no _Præfectus Annonæ_ to distribute corn to the
citizens, it fell to the Church to feed them; and the Romans were now
augmented by destitute refugees from all parts. Gregory had to find
food and clothing for masses of people, to make constant grants to
their churches and to the monasteries, to meet a periodical famine,
and to render what miserable aid the ignorance of the time afforded
during the periodical pestilence. Occasionally he had even to control
the movements of troops and the dispatch of supplies; at least, in his
impatience of the apparent helplessness of the imperial government and
his determination to hold Catholic towns against the Lombards, he
undertook these and other secular functions.
The control of the vast Papal income and expenditure might alone have
sufficed to employ a vigorous man. In Sicily, there were immense
estates belonging to the Papacy, and other "patrimonies," as they
were called, were scattered over Italy and the islands, or lay as far
away as Gaul, Dalmatia, Africa, and the East. Clerical agents usually
managed these estates, but we find Gregory talking about their mules
and mares and cornfields, and the wages and grievances of their slaves
and serfs, as familiarly as if he had visited each of them. It has been
estimated, rather precariously, that the Papacy already owned from
1400 to 1800 square miles of land, and drew from it an annual income
of from £300,000 to £400,000. Not a domestic squabble seems to have
happened in this enormous field but Gregory intervened, and his rigid
sense of justice and general shrewdness of decision command respect.
Then, there was the equally heavy task of distributing the income,
for the episcopal establishment cost little, and nothing was hoarded.
In sums of ten, twenty, or fifty gold pieces, in bales of clothing
and galleys of corn, in altar-vessels and the ransom of captives, the
stream percolated yearly throughout the Christian world, as far as the
villages of Syria. Monks and nuns were especially favoured.
Within a few years, there spread over the world so great a repute
of Gregory's charity and equity that petitions rained upon Rome.
Here a guild of soap-boilers asks his intervention in some dispute:
there a woman who, in a fit of temper at the supposed infidelity of
her husband, has rushed to a nunnery and now wants to return home,
asks his indulgence, and receives it. From all sides are cries of
oppression, simony, or other scandal, and Gregory is aroused. Jews
appeal to him frequently against the injustice of their Christian
neighbours, and they invariably get such justice as the law allows. The
Zealots who have seized their synagogues (if of long standing--they
were forbidden by law to build new ones) must restore them, or pay for
them[84]; impatient priests who would coerce them into "believing" are
rebuked. There is only one weakness--a not unamiable weakness--in his
treatment of the Jews. Those who abandon their creed are to have their
rents reduced: to encourage the others, he says cheerfully.[85] For
the pagans, however, he has no mercy, as we shall see. He sanctions
compulsion and persecution with mediæval frankness. It should be noted,
too, that, while he approved the manumission of slaves, he never
condemned the institution as such. Vast regiments of slaves worked
the Papal estates, though the ease, if not advantage, of converting
them into serfs must have been apparent. Still no slave could enter
the clergy--lest, as Leo the Great had declared, his "vileness" should
"pollute" the sacred order--and a special probation was imposed on
slaves if they wished to enter monasteries: a wise regulation this, for
many thought it an easy way to freedom. Still no slave could contract
marriage with a free Christian, as Gregory expressly reaffirms.[86]
These details of his work will, however, be more apparent if we pass
from Rome to the provinces which he controlled, and observe the success
or failure of his intervention. It will at once be understood that his
intervention almost invariably means that there is an abuse to correct,
and, therefore, the world which we find reflected in Gregory's letters
is fearfully corrupt. The restless movements and destructive ways
of the barbarians had almost obliterated the older culture, and no
new system either of education or polity had yet been devised. The
influence of the East had been just as pernicious. The venality and
corruption of its officers had infected the higher clergy, and simony
prevailed from Gaul to Palestine. Over and over again Gregory writes,
in just the same words, to prelates of widely separated countries: "I
hear that no one can obtain orders in your province without paying
for them." The clergy was thus tainted at its source. Ambitious
laymen passed, almost at a bound, to bishoprics, and then maintained
a luxurious or vicious life by extorting illegal fees. The people,
who had been generally literate under the Romans, were now wholly
illiterate and helpless. But Gregory has his informants (generally
the agents in charge of the patrimonies) everywhere, and the better
clergy and the oppressed and the disappointed appeal to him; and a sad
procession of vice and crime passes before our eyes when we read his
letters. This anarchic world needed a supreme court more than ever; the
Papacy throve on its very disorders.
Italy was demoralized by the settlement of the Arian Lombards over
the greater part of the country, and by their murderous raids in all
directions. Parts which remained Catholic were often so isolated from
Rome that a spirit of defiance was encouraged, and Gregory had grave
trouble. Milan, for instance, was in the hands of the Lombards, but
the Catholic clergy had fled to Genoa with their archbishop, and they
retained something of the independence of the Church of St. Ambrose. We
see that they must now have their selection of a bishop approved by
Gregory, and that the Pope often quietly reproves the prelate for his
indiscretions; but we find also that when, on a more serious occasion,
Gregory proposes to have Archbishop Constantius tried at Rome, the
latter acridly refuses.
Ravenna, the seat of the Eastern Exarch, who is generally hostile to
Gregory, occasions some of his least saintly letters. He hears that
Archbishop John wears his pallium on forbidden occasions, and he
reproves John with an air of unquestioned authority.[87] John partly
disputes the facts, and partly pleads special privileges of Ravenna,
but Gregory finds no trace of such privileges and orders him to
conform.[88] Then he hears that John and the fine folk of the court are
poking fun at him, and his honest anger overflows[89]: "Thank God the
Lombards are between me and the city of Ravenna, or I might have had
to show how strict I can be." John dies, and we see that the clergy
of Ravenna must submit the names of two candidates to Gregory. He
rejects the Exarch's man, and chooses an old fellow-monk and friend,
Marinianus. But the new Archbishop is forced to maintain the defence of
the supposed privileges of Ravenna, and the dispute seems to reach no
conclusion during the life of Gregory.
In the isolated peninsula of Istria, the spirit of independence has
gone the length of flat defiance, or schism, because the Papacy has
acquiesced in the endorsement by the Eastern bishops of the Three
Chapters: three chapters of a certain decree of Justinian. The schism
is of long standing, and when Gregory is made bishop he sends a troop
of soldiers to the patriarch of Aquileia, commanding that prelate and
his chief supporters to appear at Rome forthwith, "according to the
orders of the most Christian and most Serene lord of all." The use
of the Emperor's name seems to have been, to put it politely, not
strictly accurate, for when Bishop Severus appealed to Maurice, the
Emperor curtly ordered Gregory to desist. We have another indication
of the mediæval aspect of Gregory's ideas when, in the following
year, he refused to contribute to the relief-fund for the victims of
a great fire at Aquileia. His monies were "not for the enemies of the
Church," he said. He went on to weaken the schism by other means,
partly by bribes, and when Maurice died in 602 and a friendly Exarch
was appointed, he at once urged physical force.[90] "The defence of
the soul is more precious in the sight of God than the defence of the
body," he enacted. He was legislating for the Middle Ages.
His relations with the Lombards and the civil power reveal another side
of his character. Small Catholic towns, and even Rome, were constantly
threatened by the Lombards, yet Constantinople was unable to send
troops, and the Exarch remained inactive behind the marshes and walls
of Ravenna. Gregory indignantly turned soldier and diplomatist. He
appointed a military governor of Nepi, and later of Naples; and many of
his letters are to military men, stirring them to action and telling
of the dispatch of troops or supplies. In 592, the Lombards appeared
before Rome, and Gregory fell ill with work and anxiety. He then
purchased a separate peace from the Lombards[91] and there was great
anger at Ravenna and Constantinople. Gregory's sentiment was hardly one
of patriotism, which would not be consistent with his philosophy; he
was concerned for religion, as he was bound to be since the Lombards
were Arians. On the other hand, he acknowledges that if he makes a
separate peace with the Lombards, it will be disastrous for other parts
of the Empire[92]; and it is clear from the sequel that the Exarch had
a policy and was not idly drifting.
A later legend, which some modern writers strangely regard as
credible,[93] makes Gregory meet the Lombard king outside Rome, and
strike a bargain. A bargain was certainly struck, but the angry Exarch
issued from Ravenna with his troops and cut his way to Rome, where his
conversation with the Pope cannot have been amiable. The Lombards were
back in 593, but were either bribed, or found Rome too strong to be
taken. They returned again in 595. Gregory now wrote to a friend in
Ravenna[94] that he proposed again to purchase peace, and the Emperor
Maurice seems to have written him a scalding letter. From Gregory's
indignant reply[95] we gather that Maurice called him "a fool," and
hinted that he was a liar and traitor. The government idea evidently
was that Gregory was a simple-minded victim of the cunning Lombards,
as is very probable; but we must take account of his sincere concern
for religion and his longing for peace. His policy of bribes would
have been disastrous. At Ravenna, some person posted on the walls a
sarcastic "libel" about his statesmanship, and another fiery letter
appears in Gregory's register.
In other parts of Italy, he had grave ecclesiastical abuses to correct,
and some strange bishops are immortalized in his letters. In 599, he
had to issue a circular letter,[96] forbidding bishops to have women
in their houses, and ordering priests, deacons, and subdeacons to
separate from their wives. Sicily, controlled by his agents, gave
him little trouble, but his informers reported that in Sardinia and
Corsica the clergy and monks were very corrupt, and the pagans, who
were numerous, bribed the officials to overlook the practice of their
cult. The metropolitan at Cagliari was an intemperate and avaricious
man, and Gregory, after repeated warnings, summoned him to Rome; but
there is a curious mixture of indulgence and sternness in the Pope's
letters, and Januarius did not go to Rome or alter his wicked ways. As
to the pagans, Gregory, at first, merely urged the Archbishop to raise
the rents and taxes of those who would not abandon the gods.[97] When
this proved insufficient, he ordered physical persecution. If they were
slaves, they were to be punished with "blows and tortures"; if they
were free tenants, they were to be imprisoned. "In order," he says, in
entirely mediæval language, "that they who disdain to hear the saving
words of health may at least be brought to the desired sanity of mind
by torture of the body."[98]
With other provinces of the old Empire, his correspondence is mainly
directed to the correction of grave abuses. His letters to Spain show
that Papal authority was fully recognized there, and it is of interest
to find a Spanish bishop bemoaning, when Gregory urges that only
literate men shall be promoted to the priesthood, that they are too few
in number. Africa virtually defied his efforts to reform the Church.
The province had recovered a little under Byzantine rule, but its
bishops and civic officials took bribes from the Donatists.[99] They
refused to persecute the schismatics, when Gregory ordered them to do
so, and they defeated his attempt to break up their system of local
primacies.[100] He was compelled to leave them in their perverse ways.
The same condition of simony and clerical laxity prevailed generally
throughout the Roman-Teutonic world, and Gregory could do little more
than press for the election of good men to vacant bishoprics.
The diplomatic side of his character appears in his relations
with Gaul, where the fiery and wilful Brunichildis was his chief
correspondent.[101] It is true that her graver crimes were committed
after Gregory's death, but he was particularly well informed, and one
cannot admire his references to her "devout mind" or appreciate his
belief that she was "filled with the piety of heavenly grace." When,
in 599, she asked the pallium for her obsequious Bishop Syagrius of
Autun, Gregory granted it: on condition that Syagrius convoked a synod
for the correction of abuses and that Brunichildis attacked paganism
more vigorously. When, on the other hand, the learned and devout Bishop
Desiderius of Vienne, who was hated by Brunichildis for his courage
in rebuking her, asked the pallium, Gregory found that there was no
precedent and refused. It is true that Brunichildis was generous to the
clergy and, in her way, pious; but Gregory must have known the real
character of the woman whose influence he sought to win. His sacrifice,
moreover, was futile. A few synods were held, but there is no trace
of any diminution of simony, drunkenness, and vice among the Frankish
priests and monks.
His interest in the neighbouring island of Angle-land is well known. He
began, early in his Pontificate, to buy Anglo-Saxon youths and train
them for missionary work, but, in 596, he found a speedier way to
convert the islanders. The all-powerful Ethelbert was married to the
Christian Bertha, and Gregory's friendly relations with Gaul opened
the way to his court. He sent the historic mission of monks under
Augustine, and, in a few years, had the converted King transforming the
pagan temples into churches and driving his people into them. It was
Gregory who planned the first English hierarchy.
The monks, who ought to have been Gregory's firmest allies in the
reform of Christendom, had already become an ignorant and sensual body,
sustaining the ideal of Benedict only in a few isolated communities,
and Gregory's efforts to improve them were not wholly judicious. He
insisted that they should not undertake priestly or parochial work, and
he forbade the bishops to interfere with their temporal concerns. There
can be little doubt that this tendency to free them from episcopal
control made for greater degeneration. Here again, also, we find a
curious illustration of his diplomatic liberality. As a rule he was
very severe with apostate monks, yet we find him maintaining through
life a friendly correspondence with a renegade monk of Syracuse.
Venantius had returned to his position of wealthy noble in the world,
and had married a noble dame. Gregory, it is true, urged him to return
to his monastery, but the amiability of his language is only explained
by the position and influence of the man. The last phase of this part
of Gregory's correspondence is singular. Venantius died, and left his
daughters to the guardianship of the Pope; and we find Gregory assuring
these children of sin that he will discharge "the debt we owe to the
goodness of your parents."[102]
We have already seen that Gregory's relations with the eastern
Emperor were painful, and another episode must be related before we
approach Eastern affairs more closely. The Archbishop of Salona, who
was one of the typical lax prelates of the age and who had smiled at
Gregory's admonitions and threats, was removed by death, and the Pope
endeavoured to secure the election of the archdeacon, a rigorous priest
who had been the Pope's chief informer. Neither clergy nor laity,
however, desired a change in the morals of the episcopal palace, and
they secured from Constantinople an imperial order for the election of
their own favourite. Gregory alleged bribery and excommunicated the new
archbishop. When the Emperor ordered him to desist, he flatly refused,
and a compromise had to be admitted. In another town of the same
frontier province, Prima Justiniana, the Emperor proposed to replace
an invalid bishop with a more vigorous man, and Gregory refused to
consent.[103]
A graver conflict had arisen in the East. Constantinople, with its
million citizens and its superb imperial palace, naturally regarded
its archbishop as too elevated to submit to Rome, and its ruling
prelate, John the Faster,--a priest who rivalled Gregory in virtue
and austerity,--assumed the title of "Ecumenical Bishop." Gregory
protested, but the Emperor Maurice, with his customary bluntness,
ordered the Pope to be silent. A few years later, however, some
aggrieved Eastern priests appealed to Rome, and Gregory wrote, in
entirely Papal language, to ask John for a report on their case. When
John lightly, or disdainfully, answered that he knew nothing about
it, the Pope lost his temper. He told his ascetic brother that it
would be a much less evil to eat meat than to tell lies: that he had
better get rid of that licentious young secretary of his and attend
to business: that he must at once take back the aggrieved priests: and
that, although he seeks no quarrel, he will not flinch if it is forced
on him.[104] John made a malicious retort, by inducing the Empress
Constantina to make a request for relics which Gregory was bound to
refuse.
The priests were eventually tried at Rome. Whether Gregory's sentence
was ever carried out in the East, we do not know, but John took the
revenge of styling himself "Ecumenical Bishop" in his correspondence
with Gregory, and the Pope then tried to form a league with the
patriarchs of the apostolic Sees of Antioch and Alexandria against the
ambitious John. In his eagerness to defeat John, he went very near to
sharing the Papacy with his allies. Peter, he said, had been at Antioch
before Rome, and Mark was a disciple of Peter; therefore the three were
in a sense "one See."[105] He added that Rome was so far from aspiring
to the odious title that, although it had actually been offered to
the Popes by the Council of Chalcedon, neither Leo nor any of his
successors had used it.[106]
To John himself Gregory sent a withering rebuke of his pride. To the
Emperor Maurice he described John as "a wolf in sheep's clothing,"
a man who claimed a "blasphemous title" which "ought to be far from
the hearts of all Christians"! John may "stiffen his neck against the
Almighty," he says, but "he will not bend mine even with swords."[107]
He assured the Empress Constantina that John's ambition was a sure sign
of the coming of Anti-Christ.[108]
Gregory's peculiar diplomacy only excited the disdain of the
subtler Greeks. His position is, in fact, so false--repudiating
as "blasphemous" a title which, the whole world knew, he himself
claimed in substance--that it has been suggested that he thought
the term "Ecumenical Bishop" meant "sole bishop." Such a suggestion
implies extraordinary ignorance at Rome, but there is no need to
entertain it. To his friends Anastasius of Antioch and Eulogius of
Alexandria, Gregory complained that the phrase was an affront, not to
_all_ bishops, but merely to the leading patriarchs, and the whole
correspondence shows that there was no misunderstanding. Gregory lacked
self-control. Anastasius of Antioch, though very friendly, ignored his
letters; Eulogius advised him to be quiet, and hinted that people might
suggest envy; the Emperor treated him with silent disdain. John died,
but his successor Cyriacus actually used the offensive title in telling
Gregory of his appointment. There was another outburst, and Maurice
impatiently begged the Pope not to make so much fuss about "an idle
name." Eulogius of Alexandria, who had some sense of humour, addressed
Gregory as "Universal Pope," saying gravely that he would obey his
"commands" and not again call any man "Universal Bishop." Possibly
Eulogius knew that Gregory had, a few years before, written to John of
Syracuse: "As to the Church of Constantinople, who doubts that it is
subject to the Apostolic See?"[109] Gregory protested in vain until the
close of his life. The Greeks retained their "blasphemous" title: the
Latins continued to assert their authority even over the Greek bishops.
Toward the close of the year 602, the Emperor Maurice, now a stricken
old man of sixty-three, was driven from his throne by the brutal
Phocas; his five boys were murdered before his eyes and he was himself
executed. Phocas sent messengers to apprise Gregory of his accession.
We may assume that these messengers would give a discreet account
of what had happened and, possibly, bring an assurance of the new
Emperor's orthodoxy; and we do not know whether Gregory's assiduous
servants at Constantinople sent him any independent account. Yet, when
we have made every possible allowance, Gregory's letters to Phocas are
painful. The first letter[110] begins, "Glory be to God on high," and
sings a chant of victory culminating in, "Let the heavens rejoice and
the earth be glad." The bloody and unscrupulous adventurer must have
been himself surprised. Two months later, Gregory wrote again, hailing
the dawn of "the day of liberty" after the night of tyranny.[111] In
another letter he[112] saluted Leontia, the new Empress,--a fit consort
of Phocas,--as "a second Pulcheria"; and he commended the Church of St.
Peter's to her generosity. These two letters were written seven months
after the murders, and it is impossible to suppose that no independent
report had reached Gregory by that time. Nor do we find that, though he
lived for a year afterwards, he ever undid those lamentable letters. It
is the most ominous presage of the Middle Ages.
Gregory died on March 12, 604. The racking pains of gout had been
added to his maladies, and plague and famine and Lombards continued
to enfeeble Italy He had striven heroically to secure respect for
ideals--for religion, justice, and honour--in that dark world on which
his last thoughts lingered. He had planted many a good man in the
bishoprics of Europe. He had immensely strengthened the Papacy, and a
strong central power might do vast service in that anarchic Europe.
Yet the historian must recognize that the world was too strong even
for his personality; simony and corruption still spread from Gaul to
Africa, and the ideas which Gregory most surely contributed to the
mind of Europe were those more lamentable or more casuistic deductions
from his creed which we have noticed. Within a year or so--to make the
best we can of a rumour which has got into the chronicles--the Romans
themselves grumbled that his prodigal charity had lessened _their_
share of the patrimonies, and we saw that more bitter complaints
against him were current in the Middle Ages. Yet he was a great Pope:
not great in intellect, not perfect in character, but, in an age of
confusion, corruption, and cowardice, a mighty protagonist of high
ideals.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 77: Another of them, Gelasius (492-496), is, or was until
recently, regarded as the author of the first canon of Scriptures
and the first list of prohibited books. But this so-called "Gelasian
Decree" does not bear the name of Gelasius in some of the older
manuscripts, and is now much disputed. Father Grisar thinks that "we
may take it as certain that it did not emanate from him" (_History of
Rome and the Popes_, iii., 236). The canon is probably due to Damasus
(see p. 36) and the rather loosely written list of books which follows
it is ascribed to the later age of Hormisdas (514-523). Gelasius was an
able and vigorous Pope, and would hardly issue so poor a decree.]
[Footnote 78: Lives of Gregory must be read with discretion. The best
and most ample source of knowledge is the stout volume of his letters,
but there are early biographies by Paul the Deacon and John the Deacon.
Paul wrote about 780, but his fairly sober sketch--into which miracles
have been interpolated--does not help us much. John wrote about a
century after this, and his fantastic and utterly undiscriminating work
is almost useless. The best biography of Gregory is the learned and
generally candid work of W.F.H. Dudden (_Gregory the Great_, 2 vols.,
1905).]
[Footnote 79: _Ep._, ix., 69.]
[Footnote 80: See Dudden's _Gregory the Great_, i., 264-276.]
[Footnote 81: _Ep._, vi., 54.]
[Footnote 82: Dr. H.A. Mann (_The Lives of the Popes in the Early
Middle Ages_, 1902, etc.) would show that Gregory had a regard for
culture by quoting much praise of secular learning from the _Commentary
on the First Book of Kings_. This is not a work of Gregory at all. Even
the Benedictine editors of the Migne edition claim only that it was
written by an admirer who took notes of Gregory's homilies, and they
admit that it frequently departs from Gregory's ideas.]
[Footnote 83: See John of Salisbury, _Polycraticus_, ii., 26. It is
difficult to conceive that so unflattering a tradition was entirely an
invention.]
[Footnote 84: _Ep._, ix., 6, etc.]
[Footnote 85: _Ep._, ii., 32.]
[Footnote 86: _Ep._, vii., 1.]
[Footnote 87: III., 56.]
[Footnote 88: V., 11.]
[Footnote 89: V., 15.]
[Footnote 90: XIII., 33.]
[Footnote 91: II., 46; v., 36.]
[Footnote 92: V., 36.]
[Footnote 93: It is first found in the unreliable Continuer of
Prosper's _Chronicle_, and seems to be founded on the meeting of Leo
and Attila. Neither Gregory nor Paul, the Deacon speaks of a meeting
with the Lombard king.]
[Footnote 94: V., 36.]
[Footnote 95: V., 40.]
[Footnote 96: IX., ii.]
[Footnote 97: IV., 26.]
[Footnote 98: IX., 65.]
[Footnote 99: I., 84.]
[Footnote 100: I., 74.]
[Footnote 101: See _Ep._, vii., 5, 50, 59 etc.]
[Footnote 102: XI., 35.]
[Footnote 103: XI., 47.]
[Footnote 104: III., 53.]
[Footnote 105: V., 43.]
[Footnote 106: It is not true that the Council offered the title to Leo
I. It occurs only in petitions which two Eastern priests directed to
the Pope and the Council (Mansi, vi., 1006 and 1012), and the Council,
as we saw, decreed precisely the opposite. The only other place in
which we find it in some form is the spurious Latin version of the
sentence on Dioscorus to which I referred on p. 50.]
[Footnote 107: V., 20.]
[Footnote 108: V., 21.]
[Footnote 109: IX., 12.]
[Footnote 110: XIII., 31.]
[Footnote 111: XIII., 38.]
[Footnote 112: XIII., 39.]
CHAPTER V
HADRIAN I. AND THE TEMPORAL POWER
Two centuries after the death of Gregory the Great we still find an
occasional prelate of rare piety, such as Alcuin, scanning the horizon
for signs of the approaching dissolution. Vice and violence had so far
triumphed that it seemed as if God must soon lower the curtain on the
human tragedy. But the successors of Gregory in the chair of Peter were
far from entertaining such feelings. From the heart of the threatening
north, another Constantine had come to espouse their cause, to confound
their enemies, and to invest the Papacy with a power that it had never
known before. The story of the Popes as temporal sovereigns had begun.
Once more we must say that the development was an almost inevitable
issue of the circumstances. The Byzantine rule in Italy had never been
strong enough to restrain the Lombards, and the rise of the Mohammedans
in the farther East now made Constantinople less competent than ever
to administer and to defend its trans-Adriatic province. First the
city, then the duchy, of Rome fell under the care of the Popes, from
sheer lack of other administrators and defenders. We saw this in the
Pontificate of Gregory. Beyond the Roman duchy were the scattered
patrimonies, the estates given or bequeathed to the Papacy, and these
were often towns, or included towns. Here again the lack of secular
authority put all government in the hands of the Pope's agents. Then
the Eastern court successively adopted two heresies, Monothelitism and
Iconoclasm, and the dwindling respect of Rome for the Greeks passed
into bitter hostility. Imperial troops sacked the Lateran, dragged a
Pope (Martin I.) ignominiously to the East, and induced another Pope
(Honorius I.) to "subvert the immaculate faith" or, at least, to "allow
the immaculate to be stained."[113] On the whole, however, the Pontiffs
who succeeded Gregory were firm and worthy men. Rome began to shudder
between the fierce Lombard and the heretical Greek, and there slowly
grew in the Lateran Palace the design of winning independence of the
erratic counsels of kings.
At this juncture, the name of Charles Martel blazed through the
Christian world, and Gregory III. and the people of Rome implored
him to take them under his protection. The Lombards were, however,
auxiliaries of Charles, and, as Duchesne suggests, Charles probably
resented Gregory's interference in secular affairs; the Pope had
recently encouraged the Lombard dukes who were in rebellion against
their king, and Liutprand had, in revenge, seized four frontier towns
of the Roman duchy. Gregory failed, but his amiable and diplomatic
successor, Pope Zachary, changed the Roman policy and made progress. He
lent Liutprand the use of the little Papal army to aid in suppressing
his dukes, and received the four towns and other "patrimonies." A
little later, the Exarch and the Archbishop of Ravenna asked Zachary
to intercede for them, and the genial Pope again saw and disarmed
the Lombard. The language of the _Liber Pontificalis_ is, at this
important stage, so barbarous--a sad reflection of Roman culture, for
it must have been written in the Lateran--that one often despairs of
catching its exact meaning, but it seems to me clear that it represents
Liutprand as giving the district of Cesena to the Papacy, and restoring
the exarchate of Ravenna to the city of Ravenna. Presently, however, we
shall find the Popes claiming the exarchate.
The next step was the famous intervention of Rome in the affairs of
the Franks. Pippin, Mayor of the Palace, aspired to the throne of
Childeric III., and consulted the Papacy as to the moral aspect of his
design. The astute Pontiff went far beyond the terms of the request,
and "ordered" the Franks to make Pippin their monarch: an act which
founded the lucrative claim of Rome that she had conferred the kingdom
on the father of Charlemagne. Zachary's successor, Stephen II.,[114]
completed the work. He was hard pressed by the Lombard King Aistulph,
and, after a fruitless appeal to Constantinople, he went to France in
753 and implored Pippin to "take up the cause of the Blessed Peter
and the Republic of the Romans." This broke the last link with the
East, and Stephen secured the gratitude of Pippin and his dynasty by
anointing the King and his sons and pronouncing a dire anathema--which
he had assuredly no right to pronounce--on any who should ever dare to
displace the family of Pippin from the throne. And so Pippin swore a
mighty oath that he would take up the cause of the Blessed Peter, but
what he precisely engaged to do is one of the great controversies of
history.
It is clear that Pippin was made "Patrician" of Rome. This had long
been the official title of the Byzantine Exarch in Italy, and it has
no definite meaning when it is transferred to Pippin and Charlemagne.
Probably this vagueness was part of the Roman plan. The Pope wanted
Pippin's army without his suzerainty. Moreover, in conferring on Pippin
the title which had belonged to the Exarch, it was probably implied
that the exarchate became part of "the cause of the Blessed Peter."
In point of fact, the _Liber Pontificalis_ goes on to say that Pippin
swore to win for Rome "the exarchate of Ravenna" as well as other
"rights and territories of the Republic." Later, in recording the life
of Hadrian I., the _Liber Pontificalis_ says that Stephen asked for
"divers cities and territories of the province of Italy, and the grant
of them to the Blessed Peter and his Vicars for ever." This part of
the work is, it is true, under grave suspicion of interpolation, but
the sentence I have quoted may pass. Pippin swore to secure for the
Popes, not only the Roman duchy, and "divers cities and territories"
which they claimed as "patrimonies," but also the exarchate of Ravenna,
to which they had no right whatever. As Hadrian I. repeatedly refers,
in his letters to Charlemagne, to this "Donation of Pippin," and in
one letter (xcviii.) says that it was put into writing, it is idle to
contest it.[115]
Pippin crossed the Alps and forced Aistulph to yield, but as soon as
the Franks returned to their country the Lombard refused to fulfil
his obligations and again devastated Italy. No answer to the Pope's
desperate appeals for aid came from France and, in 756, when Rome was
gravely threatened, Stephen sent a very curious letter to Pippin.[116]
It is written in the name of St. Peter, and historians are divided
in opinion as to whether or no the Pope wished to impose on the
superstition of the French monarch and to induce him to think that it
was a miraculous appeal from the apostle himself. There is grave reason
to think that this was Stephen's design. The letter does not identify
the Pope with Peter, as apologists suggest; it speaks of Stephen as
a personality distinct from the apostolic writer, insists that it is
the disembodied spirit of Peter in heaven that addresses the King, and
threatens him with eternal damnation unless he comes to Rome and saves
"my body" and "my church" and "its bishop." As Pippin, who had ignored
the Pope's appeals so long, at once hurried to Italy on receiving this
letter, we may assume that he regarded it as miraculous. However that
may be, he crushed Aistulph and forced him to sign a deed abandoning
twenty-three cities--the exarchate, the adjacent Pentapolis, Comacchio,
and Narni--to the Roman See.[117] The representatives of the Eastern
court had hurried to Italy and had claimed this territory, but Pippin
bluntly told them that he had taken the trouble to crush Aistulph
only "on behalf of the Blessed Peter." Byzantine rule in Italy was
henceforth confined to Calabria in the south and Venetia and Istria in
the north. The Pope succeeded the Eastern Emperor by right of gift from
Pippin; and Pippin would, no doubt, claim that the provinces were his
to give by right of the sword. In point of fact, however, the Papacy
had claimed the exarchate on some previous title, and that title is
unsound.
We may now pass speedily to the Pontificate of Hadrian. Aistulph
died in 756; Stephen III. in 757. The ten years' Pontificate of Paul
I. was absorbed in a tiresome effort to wring the new rights of
Rome from the new Lombard King, Didier, and the struggle led to the
severance of the Romans into Frank and Lombard factions: one of the
gravest and most enduring results of the secular policy of the Papacy.
When Paul died, the Lombard faction, under two high Papal officials
named Christopher and Sergius, led Lombard troops upon the opposing
faction (who had elected a Pope), crushed them in a brutal and bloody
struggle, and elected Stephen IV. Stephen was, however, not the Lombard
King's candidate, and Didier intrigued at Rome against the power of
Christopher and Sergius. He bribed the Papal chamberlain, Paul Afiarta,
and it is enough to say that before long Christopher and Sergius were
put in prison and deprived of their eyes. This was done at the Pope's
command; it was the price of the restoration by Didier of the cities he
still withheld.[118]
Rome was still under the shadow of this brutal quarrel when, in the
year 772, Hadrian became Pope. He came of a noble Roman family, and,
having been left an orphan in tender years, he had been reared by a
pious uncle. Culture at Rome in the eighth century had sunk to its
lowest depth, and the letters of Hadrian, like all documents of the
time, are full of the grossest grammatical errors. In the school of
virtue and asceticism, however, he was a willing pupil. His fasts
and his hair-shirt attracted attention in his youth, and he was so
favourably known to all at the time of Stephen's death that he was at
once and unanimously elected.
Didier pressed for the new Pope's friendship. Charlemagne had already
tired of his daughter, or no longer needed her dowry (the Lombard
alliance), and had ignominiously restored her to her father's court and
ventured upon a third matrimonial experiment. We do not find Hadrian
rebuking the Frank King, but he sent his chamberlain Afiarta to the
Lombard court, to arrange for the restoration of the cities ceded to
Rome and, presumably form an alliance with Didier. While Afiarta was
away, however, two things occurred which caused him to change his
policy. Carlomann died in France, and his share of the kingdom was
annexed by Charlemagne. Carlomann's widow then fled to the Lombard
court, and Didier pressed Hadrian to anoint her sons in defiance of
Charlemagne. When Hadrian hesitated, Didier invaded the Papal territory
and took several towns; while Afiarta, the Pope heard, was boasting
that he would bring Hadrian to Pavia with a rope round his neck.
Meantime, however, Afiarta's rivals at Rome informed the Pope that
Afiarta had had the blind prisoner Sergius murdered, and Hadrian was
shocked. He ordered the arrest of his chamberlain, and, in defiance of
his more lenient instructions, Afiarta was delivered to the secular
authorities at Ravenna and executed.
Didier now set his forces in motion. Hadrian, hurriedly gathering
his troops for the defence of the duchy, appealed to Charlemagne and
threatened Didier with excommunication. It seems also that he made
efforts to secure other parts of Italy for the Papacy. Some professed
representatives of Spoleto, which was subject to Didier, came to Rome
to ask that their duchy might be incorporated in the Papal territory,
and their long Lombard hair was solemnly cropped in Roman fashion. We
shall find grave reason to doubt whether these men had an authentic
right to represent Spoleto, but from that moment the Popes claimed it
as part of their temporal dominion, Didier seems to have underrated
the power of the young French monarch. Both Hadrian and Charlemagne
(who offered Didier 14,000 gold _solidi_ if he would yield the disputed
cities) endeavoured to negotiate peacefully with him, but he refused
all overtures, and the Franks crossed the Alps and besieged him in
Pavia.
Charlemagne remained before Pavia throughout the winter of 773-774,
and, when Holy Week came round, he went to Rome for the celebration
of Easter. Hadrian hurriedly arranged to meet his guest with honour,
though the account of his ceremonies makes us smile when we recall how
imperial Rome would have received such a monarch. Thirty miles from
Rome the civic and military officials, with the standards of the Roman
militia, met the conqueror; a mile from the city the various "schools"
of the militia, and groups of children with branches of palm and olive,
streamed out to meet the Franks, and accompanied them to St. Peter's.
The awe with which Charlemagne approached the old capital of the
world, and the feeling of the Romans when they gazed on the gigantic
young Frank, in his short silver-bordered tunic and blue cloak, with
a shower of golden curls falling over his broad shoulders, are left
to our imagination by the chronicler.[119] His one aim is to show how
the famous donation of temporal power was the natural culmination of
the piety of the Frankish monarch. He tells us how Charlemagne walked
on foot the last mile to St. Peter's: how, when he reached the great
church on Holy Saturday, he went on his knees and kissed each step
before he embraced the delighted Pope: how Frank bishops and warriors
mingled with the Romans, and how the vast crowd was thrilled by the
emotions of that historic occasion. He describes how Charlemagne
humbly asked permission to enter Rome, and spent three days in paying
reverence at its many shrines; and how, on the Wednesday, Pope and King
met in the presence of the body of Peter to discuss the question of the
Papal territory.
In a famous passage, which has inspired a small library of
controversial writing, this writer of the life of Hadrian in the _Liber
Pontificalis_ affirms that Charlemagne assigned to St. Peter and his
successors for ever the greater part of Italy: in modern terms, the
whole of Italy except Lombardy in the north, which was left to the
Lombards, and Naples and Calabria in the south, where the Greeks
still lingered. The duchies of Beneventum and Spoleto, the provinces
of Venetia and Istria, and the island of Corsica, which were not at
the disposal of Charlemagne, are expressly included; and it is said
that one copy of the deed, signed by Charlemagne and his nobles and
bishops, was put into the tomb of St. Peter, and another copy was taken
to France. This is the basis of the claim of later Popes to the greater
part of Italy.
But the suspicions of historians are naturally awakened when they
learn that both copies of this priceless document have disappeared:
that the only description of its terms is this passage of the _Liber
Pontificalis_, which was presumably written in the Papal chancellery:
and that the art of forging documents was extensively cultivated in
the eighth century. The famous "Donation of Constantine," a document
which makes the first Christian Emperor, when he leaves Rome, entrust
the whole Western Empire to Pope Silvester, is a flagrant forgery of
the time; indeed, most historians now conclude that it was fabricated
at Rome during the Pontificate of Hadrian. Certainly the Pope seems
to refer to it when, in 777, he writes to Charlemagne: "Just as in
the time of the Blessed Silvester, Bishop of Rome, the Holy Catholic
and Apostolic Roman Church was elevated and exalted by the most pious
Emperor Constantine the Great, of holy memory, and _he deigned to
bestow on it power in these western regions_."[120]
The equally mendacious _Acta S. Silvestri_ was certainly known to
Hadrian, and we do not trace it earlier; and it is probable enough
that one or both of these documents were shown to Charlemagne. Some
historians believe that the "Fantuzzian Fragment" (a similarly false
account of the Donation of Pippin) belongs to the same inventive
period, and this is not unlikely.
It cannot be questioned that Charlemagne renewed and enlarged his
father's donation, since Hadrian's letters to him repeatedly affirm
this. Immediately after his return to France, Hadrian reminds him that
he has confirmed Pippin's gift of the exarchate,[121] and, a little
later, he recalls that, when he was in Rome, he granted the duchy of
Spoleto to the Blessed Peter.[122] Spoleto did not, in point of fact,
pass under Papal rule, but we must conclude from the Pope's words that
Charlemagne in some way approved the action of Hadrian in annexing the
duchy, and in this sense enlarged the donation made by his father.
Beyond this single instance of Spoleto, however, the letters of Hadrian
do not confirm the writer of his life in the _Liber Pontificalis_ in
his description of the extent of Charlemagne's gift,[123] and their
silence supports the critical view. While he complains of outrages
in Istria and Venetia, while he occupies himself in a long series of
letters with the affairs of Beneventum, he makes no claim that these
provinces were given to him by Charlemagne. The whole story of the
Papacy during the life of Charlemagne is inconsistent with any but the
more modest estimate of the donation: that it was a vague sanction of
the Spoletan proceeding, in addition to confirming the Donation of
Pippin.
The learned editor of the _Liber Pontificalis_, Duchesne, is convinced
that the first part of the life of Hadrian, which culminates in this
donation, was written by a contemporary cleric and must be regarded as
genuine. He suggests that, when Hadrian perceived the impracticability
of Charlemagne winning two thirds of Italy for the Roman See, he
released the monarch from his oath. This is inconsistent alike with
the character of Hadrian and the terms of his correspondence, and
recent historians generally regard the range ascribed to Charlemagne's
donation in the _Liber Pontificalis_ as either fictitious or enlarged
by later interpolations. The first part of Duchesne's study--the proof
that the early chapters of the life of Hadrian were written by a
contemporary--is convincing: the second part--that the Pope sacrificed
five or six great provinces because it was difficult at the time to get
them--has not even the most feeble documentary basis and is unlikely in
the last degree, to judge by the known facts. Either some later writer
during the Pontificate of Leo III. (or later) rounded the narrative of
the early years of Hadrian with this grandiose forgery, or the passage
which specifies the extent of the donation was interpolated in the
narrative. For either supposition we have ample analogy in the life of
the eighth century: for a Papal surrender of whole provinces we have
no analogy whatever, and there is not the faintest allusion to it in
Hadrian's forty-five extant letters to Charlemagne.[124]
The life of Hadrian in the _Liber Pontificalis_ consists, as will
already have been realized, of two very distinct parts. The first is a
consecutive and circumstantial narrative of events up to the departure
of Charlemagne from Rome in the spring of 774. This seems to have been
written by an eye-witness, possibly a clerk in the Papal service; and
it seems equally probable that this contemporary narrative was rounded
by a later hand with a fictitious account of Charlemagne's conduct
on the Wednesday. Immediately afterwards, Charlemagne returned to
Pavia, conquered Didier, and carried him off to a French monastery.
This occurred in the second year of Hadrian's Pontificate, yet in the
_Liber Pontificalis_, the remaining twenty years are crushed into a few
chaotic paragraphs, and these are chiefly concerned with his lavish
decoration of the Roman churches. We turn to his letters, and from
these we can construct a satisfactory narrative and can obtain a good
idea of the writer's personality.
Of the fifty-five extant letters of Hadrian no less than forty-five are
addressed to Charlemagne, and they are overwhelmingly concerned with
his temporal possessions. He is rather a King-Pope than a Pope-King.
For twenty years he assails Charlemagne with querulous, petulant, or
violent petitions to protect the rights of the Blessed Peter, and it
is not illiberally suspected that the lost replies of Charlemagne
contained expressions of impatience. The Pope's letters, with their
unceasing references to the Blessed Peter and all that he has done
for Charlemagne, are not pleasant reading, and the Frank King, whose
Italian policy seems to baffle his biographers, must have realized
that his position as suzerain of the Blessed Peter was delicate and
difficult. Hadrian on the other hand, found that the temporal rights
of his See left comparatively little time for spiritual duties and
laid a strain on his piety. Once in a few years he smites a heretic
or arraigns some delinquent prelate, but the almost unvarying theme
of his letters is a complaint that the Blessed Peter is defrauded of
his rights, and he is at times drawn into political intrigues which
do not adorn his character. We may recognize that his ambition was
as impersonal as that of Gregory the Great, yet the spectacle of his
plaints and manoeuvres is not one on which we can dwell with admiration.
Charlemagne had scarcely returned to France when he received from
Hadrian a bitter complaint that Leo, Archbishop of Ravenna, had seized
the cities of the exarchate and was endeavouring to win those of the
Pentapolis.[125] Charlemagne did not respond; indeed Leo went in person
to the Frank court, and it is significant that after his return he was,
Hadrian says, more insolent and ambitious than ever. He cast out the
officials sent from Rome and, by the aid of his troops, took over the
rule of the exarchate. Charlemagne was busy with his Saxon war, and he
paid no attention to the Pope's piteous appeals.[126] Leo died in 777,
however, and his successor seems to have submitted to Rome. Charlemagne
had meantime visited Italy and may have intervened.
The business which brought Charlemagne to Italy in 776 was more
serious. Arichis, Duke of Beneventum, one of the ablest and most
cultivated of the Lombards, who was married to a daughter of Didier,
was an independent sovereign. Hildeprand, Duke of Spoleto, who
had--in spite of the supposed annexation of Spoleto--chosen to regard
Charlemagne rather than Hadrian as his suzerain, was on good terms with
Arichis, and the Pope looked on their friendship with gloomy suspicion.
He reported to Charlemagne that they were conspiring against his
authority. Charlemagne's envoys were due at Rome, and Hadrian bitterly
complained to him that they had gone first to Spoleto and had "greatly
increased the insolence of the Spoletans," and had then, in spite of
all the Pope's protests, proceeded to Beneventum.[127] It is clear that
there was in Italy a strong feeling against the Papal expansion, and
that the occasional appeals for incorporation in the Roman territory
came from clerics. Spoleto remained independent, in spite of Hadrian's
claim that it had been promised to him; in fact, it was clearly the
policy of Charlemagne to leave these matters to local option, and he
can scarcely have made a definite promise to include Spoleto in his
"donation."
In the following year, Hadrian sent more alarming news. Adelchis, a
son of Didier, had fled to the Greeks and was pressing them to assist
in overthrowing the Frank-Roman system. Hadrian said that Arichis and
Hildeprand, as well as Hrodgaud of Friuli and Reginald of Clusium, had
conspired with the Greeks, and he implored the King "by the living God"
to come at once. Charlemagne came, and chastised Hrodgaud, but he does
not seem to have found serious ground for the charges against the Dukes
of Spoleto and Beneventum. Presently, however, Hadrian was able to
announce more definitely a conspiracy against his rule; the Beneventans
and Greeks had captured some of his Campanian towns, and Tassilo, Duke
of Bavaria (son-in-law of Didier), had joined them. It is true that
Charlemagne was, at the time, busy in Saxony, but it is equally clear
that he was angry with the Pope and resented his efforts to secure
the two duchies. In 777, Hadrian wrote that he rejoiced to hear that
Charlemagne was at length coming; he sent him a long list, from the
Roman archives, of all the territories to which Rome laid claim, and
invited the Frank to be a second Constantine.[128] But Charlemagne came
not, and in his next letter Hadrian has to lament that the Frank has
committed the "unprecedented act" of arresting the Papal Legate for
insolence, and the Lombards are openly exulting in his humiliation.[129]
There seems then to have been a long period without correspondence
between the two courts, or else it has not been thought judicious
to preserve the letters. In 781, however, Charlemagne came to Rome.
Tassilo was disarmed, and, as Charlemagne's daughter was betrothed
to the son of the Eastern Empress Irene, the Greeks must have been
pacified. The six years of peace which followed were, no doubt, used
by Hadrian in that princely decoration of the Roman churches of which
I will speak later and in some attention to ecclesiastical affairs. We
find him writing, in 785, to the bishops of Spain; though he seems to
have had little influence on the Spanish heresy which he denounced,
and it was left to the more vigorous attacks of Charlemagne.[130] In
786 he extended his pastoral care to England, which had not seen a
Roman envoy since the days of Gregory. His Legates were received with
honour, but they reported that the English Church was in a deplorable
condition.[131] King Offa made a princely gift for the maintenance
of lamps in St. Peter's (a euphemism of the Roman court) and for the
poor, and it is curious to read that Hadrian consented, at the King's
request, to make Lichfield a metropolitan see.
The peace was broken in 787 by an active alliance of Arichis, Tassilo,
and the Greeks, and Charlemagne again set out for Italy. Arichis was
forced to pay the Franks a heavy annual tribute and give his sons as
hostages. The elder son and Arichis himself died soon afterwards,
and Hadrian again made lamentable efforts to secure the duchy. The
accomplished widow of Arichis, Adelperga, besought Charlemagne to
bestow it on her younger son, Romwald, and Hadrian begged him not to
comply. He trusted Charlemagne would not suspect him of coveting the
duchy himself[132]; but he refrained from suggesting an alternative
to the son of Arichis, and at length he boldly warned Charlemagne not
to "prefer Romwald to the Blessed Peter."[133] Other indications of
the building of the temporal power are not more edifying. We read that
representative inhabitants of Capua and other Beneventan cities have
sought incorporation in the Roman "republic"; and then we read that
the cities have been handed over to the Papacy without inhabitants--a
clear sign of the wishes of the majority--and that Romwald is assuring
his subjects, on the authority of Charlemagne, that they need not pass
under the authority of Rome unless they will.
Charlemagne again ignored the Pope's efforts, and soon had the Spoletan
and Beneventan troops co-operating with his own against the Greeks.
Hadrian obtained no control over Spoleto and Beneventum, and the fact
that he does not charge Charlemagne with failing to keep faith with
the Blessed Peter casts further discredit on the supposed donation. In
Venetia and Istria he had no influence whatever, and his agents were
barbarously treated.[134] Corsica never enters his correspondence.
His power was confined to the Roman duchy, the exarchate, and the
Pentapolis; and even there it was much assailed. It is true that
in an hour of resolution he forbade Charlemagne to interfere in an
ecclesiastical election at Ravenna, and it was as master of Ravenna
that he gave Charlemagne the marbles and mosaics of the old palace.
But he complained bitterly that Charlemagne listened to his critics
in Ravenna,[135] and he had repeatedly to appeal to Frank authority
to enforce his sentences. To the end his letters to Charlemagne were
querulous and exacting. A few years before his death he heard that
Offa of England was proposing to Charlemagne to depose him, and he
protested, with more petulance than dignity, that he had been elected,
not by men, but by Jesus Christ.[136]
This demoralizing concern for his temporal rights seems to have warped
Hadrian's religious temperament and to have left him little time
for purely spiritual duties. A single lengthy letter to Spain and a
legation to England are all that we have as yet related, and there is
little to add. His third exercise of jurisdiction was unfortunate.
Irene had restored the worship of images in the East and was eager
for a reconciliation with Western Christendom. She invited Hadrian
to preside at an Ecumenical Council. His reply was admirable in
doctrinal respects, but he annoyed the Greeks by at once claiming all
his patrimonies in the East and protesting against the title used by
Archbishop Tarasius. They retorted by suppressing part of his letter to
the Council of Nicæa (787), at which his Legates presided, and ignored
both his requests.
This, however, was only the beginning of fresh and grave trouble with
Charlemagne. The Greeks had annoyed him by cancelling the betrothal of
Constantine with his daughter Rotrud, and there is reason to suspect
that he already contemplated assuming the title of Emperor. There was,
at all events, a sore feeling in France, and when the findings of the
Council of Nicæa reached that country, they were treated with disdain
and insult. Hadrian had, in his annoyance with the Greeks, refused to
give a formal sanction to their findings, but he had so far accepted
them as to issue from the Papal chancellery a Latin translation of the
_acta_ of the Council. We can readily believe that the translation
would be crude and inaccurate, but the quarrel was not based on these
fine shades of meaning. The French conception of the use of images
differed not only from that of the Greeks, but from that of Hadrian.
The northern prelates held that images were to be regarded only as
ornaments and as reminders of the saints they represented. In this
sense Charlemagne issued, in his own name (though we justly suspect
the authorship of Alcuin), the large work which is commonly known as
_The Caroline Books_. It scathingly attacked the Greek canons which had
been accepted by the Pope; it took no notice of Hadrian's doctrinal
letter to the Council; and, in defiance of the familiar Roman custom,
it denounced as sinful the practice of burning lights before statues
or paying them any kind or degree of worship. It contained assurances
of its loyalty to the Apostolic See, but Hadrian must have felt, when
at length some version or other of the work was sent to him (three
or four years after its publication), that it was an outrage on his
spiritual authority. But the book bore the name of Charlemagne, and in
his lengthy reply Hadrian prudently concealed his annoyance.[137] In
the same year (794) the Frank bishops held a synod at Frankfort and
resolutely maintained their position. Whether this synod followed or
preceded Hadrian's letter we cannot say, but the Franks continued for
years to reject the Roman doctrine.[138]
Hadrian's biographer discreetly ignores these failures of his attempts
to assert his authority, and almost confines himself to the record of
his work in Rome itself. He restored and extended the walls, and added
no less than four hundred towers to their defences. He repaired four
aqueducts, and rebuilt, on a grander scale, the colonnade which ran
from the Tiber to St. Peter's. The interior of St. Peter's he decorated
with a splendour that must have seemed to the degenerate Romans
imperial. The choir was adorned with silver-plated doors, and, in part,
a silver pavement; while a great silver chandelier, of 1345 lights,
was suspended from its ceiling. Large statues of gold and silver were
placed on the altars, and the walls were enriched with purple hangings
and mosaics. Vestments of the finest silk, shining with gold and
precious stones, were provided for the clergy. To other churches, also,
Hadrian made liberal gifts of gold and silver statues, Tyrian curtains,
gorgeous vestments, and mosaics. The long hostility to images and
image-makers in the East had driven large numbers of Greek artists to
Italy, and the vast sums which the new temporal dominions sent to Rome
enabled Hadrian to employ them. After a long and profound degeneration
"the fine arts began slowly to revive."[139] For literary culture,
however, Hadrian did nothing; the attempt of some writers to associate
him with Charlemagne's efforts to relieve the gross illiteracy of
Europe is without foundation.
In charity, too, the Pope was distinguished. He founded new deaconries
for the care of the poor, and at times of flood and fire he was one
of the first to visit and relieve the sufferers. But both his artistic
and his philanthropic work was almost restricted to Rome. He added a
few farms to those which his predecessors had planted on the desolate
Campagna, but the great and increasing resources of the Papacy were
chiefly used in laying the foundations of the material splendour
which would one day daze the eyes of Europe, and in paying soldiers
to protect it against his political rivals. It must be added that he
was one of the early founders of the Roman tradition of nepotism. He
appointed his nephew Paschalis to one of the chief Papal offices, and
the brutality of the man, which will appear presently, shows that the
promotion was not made on the ground of merit.
His long Pontificate came to an end on December 25th (or 26th) in the
year 795, and it is an indication of the new position of the Papacy
that his successor at once sent to Charlemagne the keys of Rome and
of the tomb of St. Peter. We have the assurance of Eginhard that the
Frank monarch wept as one weeps who has lost a dear son or brother,
and he afterwards sent to Rome a most honouring epitaph of Hadrian,
cut in gold letters on black marble. The character of Charlemagne
and his inmost attitude toward the new Papacy he had created do not
seem to me to be sufficiently elucidated by any of his biographers,
but with that we are not concerned. He had deep regard for Hadrian,
in spite of the Pope's failings. The new royal state was too heavy
a burden for Hadrian I. to bear with dignity. One cannot doubt the
sincerity of his religion, his humanity, and his impersonal devotion to
what he conceived to be his duty. But it is equally plain that in the
first Pope-King the cares of earthly dominion enfeebled the sense of
spiritual duty and at times warped his character. It needed a great man
to pass without scathe through such a transformation. Hadrian I. was
not a great man.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 113: So the successor of Honorius, Leo II., wrote to the
Emperor. _Ep._, iii.]
[Footnote 114: Stephen I., who was chosen at the death of Zachary, died
before consecration, and some historians decline to insert him in the
series.]
[Footnote 115: Pippin repeated his oath at Quiercey, and the bargain
is sometimes described as the "Quiercey Donation." The "Fantuzzian
Fragment," an ancient document which professes to give the precise
extent of the donation, is full of errors and anachronisms, and is not
now trusted by any serious historian.]
[Footnote 116: _Ep._, v.]
[Footnote 117: This is sometimes called the "Donation of Aistulph," but
is really the completed Donation of Pippin. On this point the _Liber
Pontificalis_ is confirmed by the _Annals_ of Eginhard, in which we
read that Pippin gave the Roman See "Ravenna and the Pentapolis and
the whole exarchate belonging to Ravenna" (year 756), and by the later
letters of Hadrian I.]
[Footnote 118: Writers who say merely that Stephen was "suspected of
complicity" must have overlooked the testimony of Hadrian himself in
the _Liber Pontificalis_. He tells the Lombard envoys that Stephen
assured him that, on Didier promising to return the cities, the Pope
"caused the eyes of Christopher and Sergius to be put out." Stephen's
character is further illustrated by his letter to the sons of Pippin
(_Ep._, iv.), when it was proposed that one of them should marry
Didier's daughter Hermingard. They were both married, but the Pope says
very little about the sin of divorce; it is the infamy of alliance with
the Lombards which he chiefly denounces. In point of fact, Charlemagne
divorced his wife and married Hermingard, and not a word further was
heard from Rome about this or any other of his peculiar domestic
arrangements.]
[Footnote 119: The visit is described very fully in the _Liber
Pontificalis_.]
[Footnote 120: _Ep._, lx. Some writers hold that this is merely an
allusion to the _Acta S. Silvestri_, another forgery of the time, but
the words which I have italicized point more clearly to the "Donation
of Constantine." For the literature of the controversy see Dr. A.
Solmi's _Stato e Chiesa_ (1901), pp. 12-13. It is now the general
belief that the "Donation" was fabricated at Rome, and probably in the
Lateran, between 750 and 781. Dr. Hodgkin (_Italy and her Invaders_,
vi.) has charitably suggested that perhaps the document was playfully
composed by some Papal clerk in his leisure hours and taken seriously
by a later generation, but apologists do not seem to grasp at this
straw.]
[Footnote 121: _Ep._, lii.]
[Footnote 122: _Ep._, lvii.]
[Footnote 123: Dr. Mann (vol. i., part ii., p. 423) finds some
confirmation in "a passage of Hadrian's letter to Constantine and
Irene, read in the second session of the Seventh General Council."
This part of Hadrian's letter was not read in the Council. It is not
included in the letter in the Migne edition (vol. xcvi.), and in
Mansi (xii., 1072) it is explained that the latter part of Hadrian's
letter, in which the passage occurs, was not read to the Greeks. In
any case, the passage merely affirms that Charlemagne gave the Roman
See "provinces and cities and other territories," and this is quite
consistent with the more modest estimate of his donation. A letter
written by Leo III. to Charlemagne thirty years afterwards (when the
Papal description of the donation certainly existed), speaking of his
gift of the island of Corsica, is not conclusive.]
[Footnote 124: See the dissertation appended to vol. vi. of Dr.
Hodgkin's _Italy and her Invaders_, where the author contends that a
late writer used the contemporary account of Hadrian's early years to
lead up to this fictitious donation. The hypothesis of interpolation
in a genuine narrative is urged by Dr. W. Martens in his _Die Römische
Frage_ (1881) and _Beleuchtung der neuesten Controversen über die R.
Frage_ (1898). Professor Th. Lindner (_Die sogenannten Schenkungen
Pippins, Karls des Grossen, und Otto's I. an die Päpste_, 1896)
suggests that Charlemagne intended only to secure the patrimonies in
the provinces named in the donation, but this is not consistent with
the language of the _Liber Pontificalis_, though it may very well
represent the actual intention of Charlemagne.]
[Footnote 125: _Ep._, lii.]
[Footnote 126: _Ep._, liii., liv., lv.]
[Footnote 127: _Ep._, lvii.]
[Footnote 128: _Ep._, lx.]
[Footnote 129: _Ep._, lxii.]
[Footnote 130: _Ep._, lxxxiii.]
[Footnote 131: See the interesting letter of Bishop George, one of
Hadrian's Legates, in Jaffe's _Bibliotheca Rerum Germanicarum_, vi.,
155, and compare _The Saxon Chronicle_.]
[Footnote 132: _Ep._, xc.]
[Footnote 133: _Ep._, xciii.]
[Footnote 134: _Ep._, lxxxii.]
[Footnote 135: _Ep._, xcviii.]
[Footnote 136: _Ep._, xcvi.]
[Footnote 137: Migne, vol. xcviii., col. 1247.]
[Footnote 138: Alcuin afterwards wrote a very abject letter to the Pope
(_Ep._, xviii.), and this is sometimes represented as an expression of
regret, but he does not mention the image-question and plainly refers
to his general unworthiness. The Franks were convinced that the Pope
was wrong. See the _Acta_ of the Frankfort Council in Mansi, xiii.,
864.]
[Footnote 139: R. Cattaneo, _Architecture in Italy from the Sixth to
the Eleventh Century_ (1896).]
CHAPTER VI
NICHOLAS I. AND THE FALSE DECRETALS
The coronation of Charlemagne by the Pope in the year 800 was also the
crowning of the new Papal system. The ambition for temporal power had
already disclosed the grave dangers which it brought. Soon after the
death of Hadrian I. the horrible spectacle was witnessed at Rome of
high Papal officials--one a nephew of the late Pope--attempting, on the
floor of a church, to cut out the eyes of their Pontiff; and the record
tells us that the Romans were so little moved by the charges brought
against him that they left it to a provincial noble to rescue Leo III.
Grave charges were also made against his successor, Stephen V., and
Charlemagne came to Rome to judge him. He politely acquitted Stephen,
and, on that historic Christmas morning of the year 800, he was
surprised and disconcerted by the Pope suddenly producing an imperial
crown and placing it on his head.
It is well known that Charlemagne regarded this coronation with
distrust. The gifts of the Blessed Peter had a way of conferring more
power on the giver than on the receiver. In point of fact, when the
strong hand of the first Emperor was removed, and a brood of weaker men
came to squabble over the imperial heritage, Rome gained considerably.
The kingdoms of France, Germany, and Italy were carved out of the
Empire, but the spiritual realm was not exposed to any hereditary
division. It merely awaited the coming of another strong man to make
clear its power, and this revelation was reserved for Nicholas I. Of
the eight Popes who preceded him, only one, Leo IV., made a reputable
mark on history, and that rather as a strong and honest than as a
spiritual personality. Most of them were, like most of the Popes,
men of mediocre but respectable character. There is, however, some
degeneration in the Papal calendar--which is, until the end of the
ninth century, a more edifying record than many imagine--since two out
of the eight remain under suspicion of grave misconduct, and one was
a gouty _gourmand_; while occasional outbreaks of a violence not far
removed from barbarism betray that the new prosperity is not elevating
the character of the Romans.
Nicholas, whose life in the _Liber Pontificalis_ was probably written
by his accomplished librarian Anastasius, was the son of a cultivated
Roman notary, and was carefully trained in letters. These official
panegyrics will not, however, impress the serious historian. The
Pope's letters show that the extent of his profane culture was merely
a stricter observance of the elementary rules of grammar than some of
his predecessors had displayed. In 853, a few years before Nicholas
began his Pontificate, Leo IV. had ordered the opening of schools in
each of the twenty parishes of Rome, but he complained that teachers
of the liberal arts were rare. The instruction given was mainly
religious, and it seems that on the ecclesiastical side the Pope's
culture was considerable. He had grown up in the devout service of the
Church, and successive Popes had promoted and loved him; so that, when
Benedict III. died, Nicholas was unanimously chosen to succeed him.
In the presence of the Emperor, Louis II., Nicholas, who had to be
dragged from a hiding-place in St. Peter's, was, on Sunday, April 24th,
consecrated and conducted by joyous crowds along the laurel-crowned
streets to the Lateran. Two days afterwards the Emperor entertained him
at dinner, and they were very cordial. When Louis set out for France,
Nicholas followed and had another festive dinner with him at his first
camp. Then the Pope, after kissing and embracing the Emperor, returned
to the Lateran and gravely mounted the Papal throne.
Within the next few years men learned that a new type of Pontiff ruled
the Church, or the world. Nicholas I. conceived himself, in deepest
sincerity, to be the representative of God on earth: fancied himself
sitting on a throne so elevated that from its level all men--kings and
beggars, patriarchs and monks--were of the same size. He believed that
he was responsible to God for every immoral or irreligious movement
in "every part of the world," as he often said. He was convinced that
his words were "divinely inspired,"[140] and that disobedience to him
was disobedience to God. He was, by divine appointment, "prince over
all the earth."[141] Kings received their swords from him,[142] and
were as humbly subject as their serfs were to his moral and religious
authority. The most powerful prelates must obey his orders at once
or be deposed.[143] Not a council must be held in Europe without his
approval[144]: not a church must be built "without the commands of
the Pope"[145]: not a book of any importance must be published without
his authorization.[146] Nicholas was conscientious in small duties: he
kept lists of the blind and ailing poor to whom food had to be sent.
But his great feature was his treatment of the mighty. He lived on a
cloud-wrapt height, sending out the thunders of excommunication, on
gentle and simple, as no Pope had ever dared to do before. He left to
Louis the petty position of "emperor of men's bodies": _he_ occupied
the position of Jupiter. Europe was cowed by the impersonal arrogance
of his language. He was the greatest maker of the mediæval Papacy.[147]
Nicholas did a greater work than Hildebrand because the times permitted
him. He had to deal with the degenerate descendants of Charlemagne, not
with a powerful ruler. On the other hand, court-favour and prosperity
had made the leading prelates a feudal aristocracy, often arrogant
and avaricious; and the monks they threatened and the priests they
oppressed turned eagerly from them to the Roman court of appeal.
Princes chafed at the independence of their spiritual vassals, and
would depose them: bishops chafed at the interference of their
suzerains, and would assert the independence of the Church. A thousand
voices appealed to Rome. The fact that the _Forged Decretals_ were
not made at Rome or in the interest of Rome, but by the provincial
clergy in their own interest, gives us the measure of the age. And the
fact that such forgeries were at once received reminds us of another
favourable circumstance: the dense ignorance of the time. There was
culture in places, as the contemporary work of Scotus Erigena reminds
us, but to check these Papal claims one needed a knowledge of history,
and the true story of the development of the Church and the Papacy, as
we know it, was buried under a dense growth of legends and forgeries.
Hence the dogmatic Papal conception, partly based on such documents as
the _Donation of Constantine_ and the _Forged Decretals_, sank almost
unchallenged into the mind of Europe, and the Pope was now enabled to
dispense with the swords of princes and rely on religious threats. The
letters of Nicholas splutter anathemas from beginning to end.
His first extant letter gives the Archbishop of Sens and his colleagues
a stern lesson on the prestige of the Papacy, as understood by Nicholas
I. The sixth letter peremptorily orders the great Hincmar of Rheims and
his colleagues, in language of the simplest arrogance, to excommunicate
at once, as he had directed, the Countess Ingeltrude. But within a
few years Nicholas was involved in such a mesh of correspondence with
offending princes and prelates that we must consider the chief causes
in succession.
The Eastern Empire was then ruled by Michael the Drunkard, his mistress
Eudocia, and the Emperor's tutor in vice, his uncle Bardas. This pretty
trio deposed the saintly Ignatius from the See of Constantinople,
and put in his place the imperial secretary Photius, one of the most
accomplished scholars and least scrupulous courtiers of the East. The
better clergy protested, and the court sought the support of the Pope.
A glittering captain of the guards presented himself at Rome with a
set of jewelled altar-vessels and, no doubt, a diplomatic account
of the situation. But Nicholas at once rebuked the Emperor for his
"presumptuous temerity" in deposing Ignatius without the assent of
Rome, and sent legates to inquire into the matter; and he took prompt
occasion to demand the restoration of Papal rights and patrimonies in
the East.[148] The Eastern court must have gasped at this language.
However, the Pope's legates were suborned, and a Council held at
Constantinople (May, 861) confirmed the election of Photius. Nicholas
was not satisfied,[149] and at length he heard the truth from Ignatius.
He called a Council at Rome, ordered Michael to restore Ignatius,[150]
and threatened Photius with all the anathemas in the Papal arsenal if
he did not retire.
Photius kept his place, and in 865 Michael wrote an abusive and
threatening letter to the Pope. We gather from the Pope's reply
that it expressed the greatest contempt and threatened that Greek
troops would come and make an end of them all. The lengthy reply of
Nicholas has some fine passages, but it argues too much where silence
would have been more dignified, and is at times petty and petulant
in hurling back the Emperor's foolish insults.[151] It received no
answer, and in November, 866, Nicholas wrote again. He was, he said,
sending legates to judge the case at Constantinople and would remind
Michael of the terrible things in store for those who disobeyed him;
as to that abusive letter, he says, if Michael does not take it
back, he will "commit it to eternal perdition, in a great fire, and
so bring the Emperor into contempt with all nations." He also sent
a very threatening letter to Photius. But the letters never reached
Constantinople. The legates were turned back at the frontier, and
Photius went on to publish a virulent tirade on the errors and
heresies of the Latins. This seems to have been beyond the resources of
the Lateran, and the scholars of France were entrusted with the defence
of the West. Ignatius was eventually restored, but Nicholas did not
live to see the issue, and the Eastern Church again drifted far away
from the Western.
The anathema had proved ineffectual in the East, but Nicholas had
meantime begun to employ it with happier results in Europe. In spite
of the Puritanism of Louis I., the loose tradition of Charlemagne's
court lingered in France and Nicholas soon found it necessary to rebuke
aristocratic sinners. I have mentioned that in 860 he threatened the
Countess Ingeltrude with excommunication if she did not abandon her
gay vagabondage and return to her husband, the Count of Burgundy. Her
son Hucbert had claimed the attention of Benedict III., who tells us
that this high-born young abbot went about France with a lively troop
of actresses and courtesans, corrupted the most venerable nunneries,
and filled monasteries with his hawks and dogs and licentious
ladies.[152] Hucbert's sister, Theutberga, was wedded to Lothair of
Lorraine, brother of the Emperor Louis, who accused her of incest with
Hucbert before her marriage and proposed to divorce her and marry his
fascinating mistress Waldrada. Whether she was guilty or not we cannot
tell, as no proper trial was ever held. She claimed the hot-water
ordeal, and her champion was unscathed. Then Lothair won the support of
the chief prelates of his kingdom, and they obtained or extorted from
her a confession of guilt. They committed her to a nunnery and, in 862,
granted Lothair a divorce.
Theutberga appealed to Rome, and Nicholas ordered that a general synod
should meet at Metz. In his most lordly manner the Pope directed
Charles the Bald and Louis of Germany (uncles of Lothair) to send
bishops to this synod, but they left the field to their nephew and, as
he bribed the Pope's legates, he secured a confirmation of the divorce
(June, 863). Nicholas set his lips with more than their usual sternness
when the archbishops of Cologne and Trèves arrived with this decision.
Summoning his own bishops to a council, he bluntly described the Metz
synod as "a brothel," annulled its decision, and excommunicated the
two archbishops. In language more imperious than any that had yet
issued from the Lateran, he declared that this was the decision of
the Vicar of Christ, and any man--he seems to refer pointedly to the
royal families--who ventured to dissent from this or any other Papal
pronouncement would incur the direst anathemas.
Günther, the Archbishop of Cologne, fled in anger to the court of the
Emperor, and before long Louis was marching on Rome at the head of
his troops.[153] It was a critical moment for the Papal conception.
Nicholas ordered fasts and processions, and one of these processions,
headed by the large gold crucifix which was believed to contain a part
of the true cross, went out to St. Peter's, near which the imperial
troops were encamped. To the horror of the Romans, the soldiers fell
on the procession with their swords, and flung the precious cross into
the mud. Nicholas crossed the river secretly and remained in prayer in
St. Peter's, for forty-eight hours, without food. This was the world's
reply to his first tremendous assertion of authority, and the history
of Europe might have been altered if the imperial sword had on that
occasion prevailed over his spiritual threats. But the Papacy was
saved by one of those accidents which so deeply impressed the mediæval
imagination. The man who had insulted the cross died suddenly, and
Louis himself became seriously ill. The Empress hurried to the Pope,
and in a short time the troops were marching northward. From that day
anathema becomes a mighty weapon in the hands of the Popes.
Archbishop Günther was not so easily intimidated. He wrote a fierce
diatribe against Nicholas--this new "emperor of the whole world,"--had
a copy flung upon the tomb of the apostle, and departed for Lorraine.
But Nicholas now knew his power. He scolded Charles and Louis like
lackeys for not sending bishops to Metz; they held their swords from
St. Peter, and they must listen to a Pope who speaks from direct divine
revelation.[154] The two kings persuaded Lothair to disown Günther
and submit, and the legate Arsenius was sent to France. This legate
Arsenius, an arrogant and worldly Bishop, whose career ended in grave
scandal, delivered the Pope's orders at the courts of Charles, Louis,
and Lothair with a haughtiness even greater and less respectable than
that of Nicholas. He was obeyed at once, says Hincmar, who shudders at
the facile scattering of anathemas.[155] He then conducted Theutberga
to her husband and made the prince and his nobles swear on the most
sacred relics to respect her; and, after a final shower of "unheard-of
maledictions" (says Hincmar), he set out for Rome with the siren
Waldrada.
There is grave reason to believe that the arrogant Bishop was bribed,
or otherwise corrupted, by Waldrada. She "escaped" in northern Italy
and returned to Lorraine; and the unhappy Theutberga now appealed to
Nicholas to release her and let Lothair marry Waldrada. To this noble
appeal Nicholas could have but one answer; for the claims of the human
heart he had no ear. She must remain in her husband's bed if it means
martyrdom. Lothair shall never marry that "whore" even if Theutberga
dies. There death compelled Nicholas to leave the romantic situation
of Lothair; and one reads, almost with a smile, that his successor,
Hadrian II., accepted Lothair's sworn declaration (supported by
many presents) that he had had no relations with Waldrada since the
prohibition, and admitted him and the Archbishop of Cologne to the holy
table. One must respect the great Pope's insistence on what he believed
to be a divine ordination, but the historians who represent him as
the champion of the human rights of an injured woman forget the final
martyrdom of Theutberga.
One seems at first to find a more human note in the Pope's indulgence
toward Baldwin of Flanders. Judith, daughter of Charles the Bald, had
been put under restraint by her father for misconduct, and in 860 she
eloped with the young Count of Flanders. Baldwin asked the Pope's
mediation, and he won from Charles forgiveness for the erring couple.
If, however, one reads his letter (_xxii._) carefully, one finds no
ground for the claim that he was "tender toward the penitent." He
plainly says that Baldwin had threatened to throw in his lot with the
Norman pirates if Charles persists in his threat of vengeance. There
is a nearer approach to sentiment in the Pope's effort to secure the
property of the widowed Helletrude, which had been seized by Lothair;
but we do not know the issue of his intervention in that case.
If the new language of the Papacy fell with uncertain effect upon the
ears of kings and sinners, it did at least win a triumph among the
great prelates of Europe and raised the Roman See immeasurably above
them. The conflict with Hincmar of Rheims was the most notable and
successful struggle in which Nicholas engaged. Hincmar was the most
distinguished and one of the more worthy of the prelate-nobles who
had risen to wealth and power with the settlement of Europe. He was a
man of imperious temper and great ability, yet of sincere religious
feeling and concern for the prestige of the Gallic Church. One of his
suffragans, Rothrad of Soissons, incurred his dislike, and, when this
Bishop suspended one of his priests, who had been caught in adultery
and ignominiously mutilated by his parishioners, Hincmar reinstated
the man. When Rothrad not unnaturally remonstrated, he was deposed
by Hincmar and a jury of five bishops,[156] and he appealed to Rome.
In order to frustrate this appeal, Hincmar took a weak and improper
advantage of a letter written by Rothrad, saying that in this letter
the Bishop abandoned his appeal, and induced the King to forbid him
to go to Rome. Then, in a synod which met at Soissons, he had the
deposition confirmed and Rothrad sentenced to live in a monastery.
Nicholas at once, in 863, wrote a severe letter to Hincmar, harshly
rebuking him for his want of respect for the Roman See and claiming
that the case ought to have been remitted to Rome whether Rothrad had
appealed or no.[157] In a second letter written shortly afterwards, he
threatened to depose Hincmar if he did not obey, or come to justify his
conduct at Rome, within thirty days.[158] He wrote in the same harshly
autocratic language to the King and to the other French prelates; if
his orders were not at once obeyed, he would punish everybody severely.
The greatest prelate-noble in Europe and the King himself submitted
almost without a struggle, and Rothrad went to Rome. Hincmar, it is
true, disdained to send witnesses and attempted in his letter to defend
his action, but the Pope went on his way as calmly and inexorably as
if he were dealing with a few refractory monks. On Christmas Eve, 864,
he preached a sermon on the case and announced that he had reinstated
Rothrad. The legate Arsenius was then about to set out for France on
the mission I have already described, and he took Rothrad with him to
the court of Charles. He took also a letter to Hincmar which began: "If
thou hadst any respect for the canons of the Fathers or the Apostolic
See, thou wouldst not have attempted to depose Rothrad without our
knowledge." I will consider later this covert reference to the _Forged
Decretals_. Rothrad was reinstated; and the language in which the
_Bertinian Annals_ describe the Pope's procedure shows the bitter
resentment it provoked in France.
An incident that occurred in the course of the dispute shows--if proof
were necessary--that Nicholas acted on a sincere conviction of right.
In 863 Lothair appointed Archbishop Günther's brother, Hildwin, to
the See of Cambrai, and Hincmar rightly protested that the man was
unworthy. He appealed to Nicholas, and, although his appeal reached
the Pope at a time when he was threatening to depose Hincmar, and
that prelate still evaded his orders, Nicholas at once discharged a
shower of his menacing letters[159] in support of Hincmar and did not
rest until Lothair abandoned Hildwin. Warped as it was, at times, by
a too exalted conception of the authority of his See, Nicholas had,
nevertheless, a rigid sentiment of justice, and it was his supreme aim
to make that anarchic world bow to moral no less than ecclesiastical
law.
He had not yet reached the end of his conflict with the great
representative of the prelate-nobles. Hincmar's predecessor, Ebbo,
had conferred orders after he had been deposed, and a council held
at Soissons in 853 had suspended these clerics from the exercise of
their functions. Benedict III. and Nicholas himself had expressed
a qualified approval of this council, but the _Forged Decretals_
were now circulating in France, and one of the suspended clerics,
Wulfad,--possibly encouraged by the success of Rothrad,--appealed to
Rome. Once more Nicholas curtly ordered Hincmar either to reinstate
the clerics or to summon a new council, to which the Pope would send
legates, at Soissons. The council was held, and the French bishops
endeavoured by means of a compromise to save their own dignity yet
avoid a quarrel: they decided to reinstate the clerics as an act of
grace. This evasion drew from the Pope some of the sorriest letters
in his register. Not only in a most harsh and offensive letter to the
Archbishop,[160] but even in a letter to the bishops,[161] he accused
Hincmar of fraud, insisted that the _acta_ of the earlier Soissons
council had been submitted in a dishonest form to his "divinely
inspired" predecessor and himself, and, on the pretext that Hincmar was
wearing his pallium on improper occasions, threatened to punish his
"pride" and "vainglory" by a withdrawal of that distinction. He ordered
them to hold a new council. Nicholas died before the report of this
council reached Rome, and his indulgent successor exculpated Hincmar.
But the meekness with which those terrible letters were received is a
measure of the advance of the Papacy.
A story that is told at length in the _Liber Pontificalis_ affords
another instance of this assertion of spiritual autocracy and its
encouragement by appeals from the provinces. The Pope was informed that
John of Ravenna abused his power; bishops complained that he quartered
himself and his expensive retinue on them for unreasonable periods and
made other exacting demands. When John received letters of remonstrance
and legates from Rome, he forbade his subjects to appeal to the Pope,
and strengthened his authority by falsifying the documents in his
archives: a crime at which the Roman Anastasius expresses the most
naïve surprise and indignation. When Nicholas summoned him to appear
before a Roman synod, John "boasted" that he was not subject to the
Bishop of Rome, and, when the synod excommunicated him, he appealed
to the Emperor. He then went, with the support of imperial legates,
to beard Nicholas in the Lateran, but the Pope astutely detached the
legates from him and he returned in concern to Ravenna. In this case
the prelate was unpopular and unjust, so that Nicholas had a good local
base for his authority. He went in person to Ravenna, and before long
men pointed the finger of scorn or of horror at their proud Archbishop
as he rode through the streets. The Emperor abandoned him, and in a few
months we find John at Rome, humbly submitting to the rod, placing the
written record of his penitence on the holy sandals of the Saviour.
A remarkable extension of this authority is attempted in a letter
which Nicholas addressed to King Charles in 867. The dispute about
predestination which then agitated clerical Europe, and gave some
fallacious promise of a revival of intellect, had been submitted to
Nicholas in the early days of his Pontificate. Nicholas was, like
all the great Popes, a statesman and canonist, not a theologian. He
prudently remained silent, and let Franks and Germans belabour each
other with theological epithets. When, however, he heard that Charles
had invited the famous John Scotus Erigena, the subtlest thinker of the
early Middle Ages, to translate a supposed work of Denis the Areopagite
(_De Divinis Nominibus_), he reproved the King for issuing so important
a book without having submitted it to Rome.[162] We do not find that
Charles took any notice of his claim of censorship, or sent him a copy
of the book. It is a good illustration of the attitude of Rome that
a thinker like Scotus Erigena, in whose works we plainly recognize
the most advanced heresy that arose in Europe before the eighteenth
century, incurred so little censure. Nicholas merely complains that the
learned Irishman is rumoured to be not entirely sound in theology.
Still bolder is the claim made in a letter in which Nicholas sought
to control the conversion of the Danes. No new national Church must
be founded without his authority, he says, since "according to the
sacred decrees even a new _basilica_ cannot be built without the
command of the Pope."[163] In this he outran not only the genuine,
but the forged, Decretals. He had in mind, no doubt, a decree of
Gelasius on the subject of church-building, but this merely forbade the
erection of a church, without authority, in the Roman diocese itself.
At the other extremity of Europe Nicholas made elaborate efforts to
bring the Bulgarians under his authority. He sent legates to King
Boris, and wrote a very long and curious reply to a large number of
questions--ranging from the most exalted points of faith to the wearing
of trousers by women--which the Bulgarians submitted to him. He did not
live to see the relapse of the deceitful and ambitious Slavs.
These are the outstanding features of the voluminous correspondence
of Nicholas the Great. They bring before us the portrait of a man who
is raised above the disorder of his time, not so much by strength of
personality as by the exaltation of his sacerdotal creed. In a more
orderly Christendom Nicholas might have seemed an exemplary and not
greatly distinguished bishop, but chaos has ever been the native
element of such creative genius as he possessed. Since all men now
bowed in theory to the Christian ideal, their very disorders lent
authority to the Pope's anathemas. He hears that a set of young bishops
are devoted to hunting and even to less reputable pastimes, and his
scorn is irresistible.[164] He hears that the sons of Charles the Bald
have quarrelled with their royal father, and, though they are now
reconciled, "we direct that you present yourselves humbly at a synod to
be held in a place appointed by us, to which we will send legates of
the apostolic authority."[165] He has little time or inclination for
the material decoration of Rome. He restores St. Peter's and the Trajan
aqueduct; he organizes the distribution of charity; but his life-work
is the consolidation of the spiritual supremacy of the Popes. He is,
pre-eminently, the smiter of the powerful; and, in smiting them, he
strengthens the Papal arm. Fortunately for him and the Papacy, he has
to deal with a degenerate, ignorant, and superstitious generation: the
night of the Dark Age is drawing in--a night which is not disproved by
showing, as Maitland does, that there was a little lamp here and there.
And when we contemplate that world of murder, incest, rape, spoliation,
and monastic and priestly corruption which is reflected in the Pope's
letters, we feel that it was well for Europe to have such a master.
On the other hand, we do assuredly find Nicholas, and each succeeding
great Pope, yielding to that most natural temptation of the moralist
and priest in face of grave disorder--acting on the unformulated
principle that the end sanctifies the means. The question whether
Nicholas relied on the _Forged Decretals_ has now been so fully
discussed that it is possible to give a precise answer; at least when
we consider certain passages in his letters which have been overlooked.
On the origin and spread of the Decretals I need only summarize
accepted results.[166] The collection originated in France about the
year 850, though it is still disputed whether it was composed in the
diocese of Tours or (as seems more probable) that of Rheims. It follows
from this origin that the forgery was perpetrated, not in the interest
of the Papacy, but of the bishops and lower clergy, to whom it gave
the right of appeal to a central authority against the (often unjust)
sentences of higher prelates and the aggression of lay nobles. The
book, however, is not merely concerned with questions of jurisdiction
and appeal. It is further agreed that, though the successor of
Nicholas, Hadrian II., certainly used the _Forged Decretals_, they were
little used by the Popes before the middle of the eleventh century; but
it is equally agreed that they were of immense service to the Papacy in
spreading a conviction of the antiquity of its most advanced claims and
in promoting the practice of appeal to it.
The chief point in dispute is whether Nicholas knew and employed the
forgery, and with this I may deal more fully. The first letter in the
Pope's Register is a reply to Wenilo, Archbishop of Sens, in regard
to the deposition of a bishop. Servatus Lupus, the learned abbot of
Ferrières, had written on behalf of Wenilo--the letter is fortunately
preserved--to say that men were quoting a certain Decretal of Pope
Melchiades which reserved to the Papacy the deposition of bishops.[167]
This was evidently a quotation from the _Forged Decretals_, yet in
his reply Nicholas completely ignores the supposed Decretal on which
his opinion was expressly asked. Whether or no we may infer from this
silence that Nicholas was ignorant of the source of the quotation,
we may surely conclude that so industrious a canonist would make
immediate inquiries about this remarkable document, if he were not
already acquainted with it. Since, however, he made no reply to the
question whether the deposition of a bishop was reserved to the Papacy,
I infer that he was unaware of the existence of the Decretals; and this
is strongly confirmed by a letter which he wrote in 862. He tells King
Solomon of Brittany that a bishop may be deposed by twelve bishops, on
the evidence of seventy-two witnesses, and he refers to Pope Silvester
as the authority for this mythical ordinance.[168] In this he relies on
a spurious document, but a document _not_ contained in the Isidorean
collection. The main point is that he allows the local deposition of
bishops, and enjoins recourse to Rome only in case of dispute. He does
not yet seem to know the _Decretals_, but, as Hincmar had used them in
857 (possibly in 853), we can hardly imagine such a Pope as Nicholas
remaining long unaware of the existence in France of this strong
foundation of his authority; especially when, as I said, his attention
had been plainly drawn to it by Servatus Lupus.
Then came the case of Rothrad,[169] and Nicholas, as we saw, wrote
to Hincmar that the case ought to have been remitted to Rome whether
Rothrad had appealed or no[170]; but it is clear that he is speaking
of a vague duty imposed by general respect for the Apostolic See, not
of a duty enforced by canonical obligation. If, he says, Hincmar were
"not disposed" to send the case to Rome (_si id agere noluisses_), he
ought at least to have respected Rothrad's actual appeal. But when we
come to 865, and the famous letter (lxxv.) which the Pope wrote to
Hincmar and his colleagues, Nicholas is quite clear. "Even if," he
says, "he [Rothrad] had not appealed to the Apostolic See, you had no
right to run counter to so many and such important decretal statutes
and depose a bishop without consulting us."[171] The French prelates
had complained that such Decretals were not found in their collection:
the Dionysian collection given to Charlemagne by Hadrian in 774. It
does not matter, Nicholas replies, whether they have them or not;
all Decretals approved at Rome are to be respected. And he makes it
perfectly clear that he is referring, not to genuine Decretals which
may not be in the Dionysian collection, but to the Isidorean. They
make use of these Decretals themselves, he says, when it suits their
purpose; we know that Hincmar had done so, and possibly Nicholas had
learned this from Rothrad. But he makes it still plainer that he is
not referring to Decretals in the Roman archives, but to the Isidorean
forgeries, when he says that he is thinking of the Decretals of
"ancient" (_prisci_) Pontiffs, not merely those of Gregory and Leo; and
he leaves no room whatever for doubt when he includes letters written
by the Popes in "the times of the pagan persecutions."
We must not, however, exaggerate the Pope's reliance on this imposture.
M. Roy has made a careful analysis of the letters of Nicholas, and he
maintains that only four of his quotations are from spurious Decretals:
that three of these are not in the Isidorean collection: and that the
one which is common to Nicholas and pseudo-Isidore had already been in
circulation before the imposture was published.[172]
Father de Smedt further points out that Nicholas made no use of
Isidorean Decretals which would, especially in his conflict with
Photius, have been useful to him, and that, when he does use documents
which are in the Isidorean collection, he gives their genuine words
or assigns them to their real authors. These are generally valid
claims, but they do not conflict with my conclusion. Nicholas plainly
endeavoured to use the _Forged Decretals_, but he had a learned and
acute antagonist in Hincmar and he dare not quote them individually or
in their crude Isidorean form. One is almost reminded of the smiles
of Roman augurs when one considers these two great ecclesiastical
statesmen, using a forged document or watching with complacency the use
of it, yet checking each other when it affects their own interests.
There is no answer to Milman's sober charge that Nicholas saw the
spread of the work and did not protest. He knew well the contents of
the Roman archives--he had a number of scribes studying them--and he
must have known as well as we do that there were no genuine Decretals
before the time of Gelasius.
The analysis made by M. Roy must be supplemented by that of J.
Richterich,[173] from which it appears beyond question that Nicholas
made a very extensive use of spurious documents; as we have found Roman
officials doing from the fourth century. Father de Smedt[174] "does
not altogether deny" that, as Hinschius says, Nicholas sometimes, in
quoting genuine Decretals, alters their meaning in accordance with the
Isidorean. Roy himself has to admit that Nicholas goes far beyond the
words and meaning of Gelasius in saying that no church may be built
without the Pope's permission.[175] He goes equally beyond genuine
precedent in claiming that no bishop can be deposed without his
authority; hitherto there had been only the vague understanding that
"grave cases" were reserved to the Pope. He advances equally beyond
precedent in claiming that no council can be held without his sanction.
Roy[176] calls this "a pseudo-Isidorean principle," and says that
Nicholas nowhere asserted it. But Nicholas plainly asserts it in _Ep._,
xii., and is just as plainly straining a vague early claim of Pope
Gelasius.[177]
We must conclude that, however beneficent may have been the spiritual
centralization which Nicholas so ably elaborated, and however
impersonal and religious his aim may have been, he proceeded at times
on principles which no cause can sanctify: principles which it was
dangerous to bequeath to less spiritual successors. He died in 867,
after nine and a half years of heroic work for his ideal: a type of
ecclesiastical statesman that it needs a peculiarly balanced judgment
to appreciate. The pleasures and thrills of the world he despised, and
it would be a deep injustice to conceive him as other than entirely
indifferent to the personal prestige of his position. His personality
was entirely merged in his office: he was, indeed, not a personality,
but the vicar of a greater personality. The phrase which too often
in Hadrian's letters is a mere artifice for obtaining wealth and
power--"the Blessed Peter"--was to him the expression of a living and
awful reality. If the Papacy did not tower above all the other thrones
in Christendom, the intention of Christ was made void. Nicholas would
have it realized. In that spirit he added strength to the frame of
the Papal system. The historian must do justice to his aim and to the
salutary tendency of his moral control of Europe; he must be no less
candid in denouncing the sentiment that the end justifies the means.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 140: _Ep._, lxxxiii., xcii., and cviii.]
[Footnote 141: _Ep._, lxv.]
[Footnote 142: _Ep._, lxxix.]
[Footnote 143: _Ep._, vi.]
[Footnote 144: _Ep._, xii.]
[Footnote 145: _Ep._, cxxxv.]
[Footnote 146: _Ep._, cxv.]
[Footnote 147: An excellent analysis of his ideas is given in Dr.
A. Greinacher's _Die Anschaungen des Papstes Nikolaus I. über das
Verhältniss von Staat und Kirche_ (1909).]
[Footnote 148: _Ep._, iv.]
[Footnote 149: _Ep._, xii. and xiii.]
[Footnote 150: _Ep._, xlvi.]
[Footnote 151: _Ep._, lxxxvi.]
[Footnote 152: _Ep._, ii.]
[Footnote 153: The best account is in the _Annals of St. Berlin_, in
the _Monumenta Germaniæ Historica_, vol. i.]
[Footnote 154: _Ep._, lxxxiii.]
[Footnote 155: It is, at least, generally believed that Hincmar wrote
this part of the _Bertinian Annals_.]
[Footnote 156: _Bertinian Annals_, year 865.]
[Footnote 157: _Ep._, xxxiii.]
[Footnote 158: _Ep._, xxxiv.]
[Footnote 159: XLI., xlii., and xliii.]
[Footnote 160: CVIII.]
[Footnote 161: CVII.]
[Footnote 162: _Ep._, cxv.]
[Footnote 163: _Ep._, cxxxv.]
[Footnote 164: _Ep._, cxxvii.]
[Footnote 165: _Ep._, xxxix.]
[Footnote 166: The famous collection which bears the name of Isidorus
Mercator contains about sixty spurious Decretals in the first part,
covering the first three centuries, and about thirty in the third
part; the second part contains the canons of councils. The author
makes an adroit use of older documents, and his work is largely a
mosaic of genuine fragments (of Papal letters, chronicles, etc.) so
pieced together and ante-dated as to father later developments of
Papal authority on the earlier Popes. The best edition is that of P.
Hinschius (1863), and the best survey of recent study is the article
"Pseudoisidor" in Herzog's _Real-Encyclopädie für Protestantische
Theologie_. There is a useful chapter in _The Age of Charlemagne_
(1898), by C.L. Wells. The ablest Catholic study of the relation of
Nicholas to the collection is Jules Roy's _Saint Nicholas_ (1901). See
also _Les Fausses Décrétales_ (1879), of Father Ch. de Smedt. On the
general question of the Pope's use of spurious documents see the able
Old Catholic work of J. Richterich, _Papst Nikolaus I._ (1903).]
[Footnote 167: See _Ep._, cxxx., of Servatus Lupus.]
[Footnote 168: _Ep._, xxv.]
[Footnote 169: It is not easy to regard Rothrad as the author of the
forgery, as he was not deposed until 862. A more probable source
of origin is the group of clerics ordained by Ebbo and suspended
by Hincmar in 853. Even this seems too late, however, as such a
compilation was not the work of a day. But it is very probable that
Rothrad took the book to Rome, if it were not already there.]
[Footnote 170: _Ep._, xxxiii.]
[Footnote 171: The modern writers who have contended that these _tot et
talia decretalia statuta_ are not the Isidorean Decretals seem not to
have read the whole letter.]
[Footnote 172: _Saint Nicholas_, Appendix II. (followed by Dr. Mann,
vol. iii.). See also F. Rocquain's _La Papauté au Moyen Âge_ (1881).
Hefele (bd. iv., p. 292) admits that Nicholas relied on the forgery.]
[Footnote 173: _Papst Nikolaus I._ (1903).]
[Footnote 174: P. 116.]
[Footnote 175: _Epp._, lxxxii. and cxxxv.]
[Footnote 176: P. 131.]
[Footnote 177: _Ep._, lxv.]
CHAPTER VII
JOHN X. AND THE IRON CENTURY
The next great stride in the development of the Papacy is taken by
Gregory VII., the true successor of Nicholas I. and Gregory I. Europe
seemed, indeed, entirely prepared for that last development of the
Papal system which we connect with the name of Hildebrand, and a
student of its essential growth may be tempted to pass at once from
the ninth to the eleventh century. But to do so would be to omit one
of the most singular phases of the story of the Papacy and leave in
greater obscurity than ever one of its most interesting problems. How
comes it that a Century of Iron, as Baronius has for ever branded the
tenth century, falls between the work of Nicholas and the still greater
work of Gregory? May we trust those modern writers who contend that
the devout father of ecclesiastical history was gravely unjust to the
Papacy, and that we may detect the play of a romantic or a malicious
imagination in the familiar picture of Theodora and Marozia controlling
the chair of Peter and investing their lovers or sons with the robes of
the Vicar of Christ? Some consideration must be given to this phase,
and it will be convenient to take John X. as its outstanding and
characteristic figure.
I have already observed that few really unworthy men sat in the chair
of Peter until the close of the ninth century. Among the hundred
Popes who preceded Nicholas I. there had been, it is true, few men of
commanding personality, but there had been still less men of ignoble
character. They had been, on the whole, men whose real mediocrity is
not obscured by the fulsome praises of their official panegyrists, yet,
for the most part, men of blameless life. In the ninth century we see a
gradual deterioration. Hadrian II. tries, with equal sincerity though
less personality, to play the great part of Nicholas, and it is from no
fault of character that he fails to coerce princes and prelates. John
VIII. plays a not ignoble human part during the calamitous decade of
his Pontificate, though there is more soldierly ardour than religious
idealism in his defence of the Papacy. After him, in quick succession,
come five Popes of little-known character, and then we have that famous
Stephen VI. who digs the half-putrid body of a predecessor, Formosus,
from its grave and treats it with appalling outrage. In the gloom
which now descends on Rome, we follow with difficulty the passionate
movements of the rival parties, but we know that after Formosus there
were nine Popes in eight years (896-904). With Sergius III. (904-911),
the Century of Iron fitly opens, and his name and that of John X., who
became Pope in 914, are chiefly associated with the names of Theodora
and Marozia.
The general causes of this deterioration are easily assigned. In that
age of violent character, uncontrolled by culture, a multiplication
of small princedoms was sure to lead to bloody rivalries. To this the
dissolution of the Empire of Charlemagne and the feebleness of his
descendants had led, especially in Italy, where the weakness of a
sacerdocracy--that is to say, its liability, if not obligation, to
use temporal resources for religious rather than military and civic
purposes--soon became apparent. The Papacy had the further weakness
that, being nominally independent yet unable to defend itself, it was
ever on the watch for another Pippin--a monarch who would protect it
and not govern it--and it dangled its tawdry imperial crown before the
eyes of the kings of Italy, France, and Germany, to say nothing of
the smaller princes of Italy. Hence arose the factions which rent a
degraded Rome. We must remember, too, that this was a fresh period of
invasion and devastation: the waves of Saracen advance lapped the walls
of Rome from the south and the fierce Hungarians reached it from the
north.
These general causes of decay are substantial, yet we must not be
too easily contented with them. Some day a subtler or more candid
science will tell the whole story of the making of the Middle Ages. I
need note only that the disorder existed in Rome, and often burst its
bonds, long before the time of Stephen VI. Even under Hadrian I. we saw
relatives and friends of the Pope promoted to high office, yet in the
end betraying characters of revolting brutality. We remember also a
certain legate of Nicholas I., Bishop Arsenius, who handled anathemas
with such consummate ease. This man's nephew abducted the daughter
of Pope Hadrian II., and, when he was pursued, murdered her and the
Pope's wife. There was some taint in the blood--or the brain--of this
new Roman aristocracy which gathered round the Lateran. Under John
VIII., the strongest successor of Nicholas, they broke into appalling
disorders. "Their swinish lust," says one of the most conservative and
most reticent of recent writers on the Popes, speaking of the leading
Papal officials of the time, "was only second to their cruelty and
avarice."[178] Hadrian II. had the widow of one of these officials
whipped naked through the streets of Rome, and had another official
blinded. Under Stephen VI. and Sergius III. these corrupt Roman
families come into clearer light, and the domination of Theodora and
Marozia is merely one episode in this lamentable development, which
has been recorded more fully because of the piquancy of this feminine
ascendancy in a nominal theocracy.
The period with which we are concerned really opens with Pope Formosus,
a not unworthy man, who looked for support to Arnulph of Germany.
The Italian faction, which looked to Guido of Spoleto and Adalbert
of Tuscany, regarded this "treachery" with the bitterest rancour
and imprisoned the Pope. One of the leaders of this section was the
deacon (later Pope) Sergius. Arnulph came to Rome, and swept the
Tuscan-Spoletan faction, including Sergius, out of the city. Formosus
died in 896, his gouty successor followed him within a fortnight, and
Stephen VI. was elected. As soon as Arnulph had left Rome, the Pope
surrendered to the Italian faction, and the Lateran witnessed that
ghastly outrage of the trial of the mouldering corpse of Formosus:
on the nominal charge of having exercised his functions after being
deposed and having passed from another bishopric to that of Rome. There
seems to be some lack of sense of moral proportion in historians who,
knowing these far graver things, make elaborate efforts to disprove
the love-affairs of one or two Popes of the period. Three not unworthy
Popes filled, and soon quitted, the Roman See after Stephen. The last
of these, Leo V., was dethroned and imprisoned by the cardinal-priest
Christopher, who seized the Papacy. Sergius and his friends in exile
now entered into correspondence with the dissatisfied Romans, mastered
the city with an army, and threw Christopher in turn into a dungeon.
This was the rise to power of Sergius III.; the beginning of what has
been called, with more vigour than accuracy, the Pornocracy.[179]
With the weakening of the Empire, the Roman nobles had wrested from
the Popes the political control of the city, and we gather from the
titles assigned to them that there was a debased restoration of
the old republican forms. The head of one of the leading families,
Theophylactus, is described as Master of the Papal Wardrobe, Master of
the Troops, Consul, and Senator. His wife, Theodora, called herself
the Senatrix: their elder and more famous daughter Marozia is named
the Patricia. The family belonged, of course, to the Tuscan-Spoletan
faction which triumphed with Sergius. Culture had now fallen so low at
Rome that there is no writer of the time able or willing to leave us a
portrait of these remarkable ladies; the nearest authority, the monk
Benedict of Soracte, is so far from artistic feeling that it would be
literally impossible to write a grosser and more barbarous Latin than
he does. From some documents of the time it appears that there were
ladies of this great family who could not write their names, and we
may presume that this was their common condition. But it is uniformly
stated that they were women of great beauty and ambition: it is certain
that Marozia was the mother of John XI., and that she put him on the
Papal throne: and it is claimed that Sergius was the father of John
XI., and that John X. was the lover of Theodora.
These stories of amorous relations would not in themselves deserve
a severe historical inquiry, but they have been made a test of the
accuracy or inaccuracy of our authorities. The older ecclesiastical
historians admitted them without demur. In the pages of Baronius
Theodora is "that most powerful, most noble, and most shameless whore"
and Sergius is the lover of that "shameless whore" Theodora. Pagi
and Mansi reproduce these words, and they are complacently prefixed
to the collection of John's letters in the Migne edition.[180] More
recent writers like Duchesne and Dr. W. Barry admit the charge
against Sergius; but the learned Muratori boldly questioned the whole
tradition, and various modern Italian writers have attempted to support
his case.[181]
The claim that we have discovered, since the days of Baronius, new
documents which materially alter the evidence, must at once be set
aside. Of the Formosian writers of the time whose pamphlets have been
recovered, the priest Auxilius throws no light on this subject and
the grammarian Vulgarius is unreliable. We have letters and poems in
which Vulgarius hails Pope Sergius as "the glory of the world" and
"the pillar of all virtue," and professes a profound regard for the
matchless virtue and the "immaculate bed" of Theodora.[182] The fact
is that Vulgarius had previously indicted Sergius in lurid terms and
had been significantly summoned to Rome by that vigorous Pontiff.
His charges of murder and outrage then changed into the most fulsome
flattery, to which we cannot pay the slightest regard. His earlier
charges are more serious, as, writing only six years after the events,
he appeals to the still fresh recollection in the minds of the Romans
that Sergius had had his two predecessors murdered in prison.[183]
We have no serious reason to differ from Baronius. Liutprand, Bishop
of Cremona, is the chief accuser. As servant of the court of Berengar
II. and then of Otto I., he often visited Rome in the first half of
the tenth century, and he knew the city well during the Pontificate
of John XI., the son of Marozia. He says that Theodora, "a shameless
whore," was all-powerful at Rome: that she was the mistress of John
X., whom she promoted to the See of Ravenna and then to that of Rome:
that her daughters Marozia and Theodora were more shameless than she:
and that John XI. was the son of Sergius and Marozia.[184] Liutprand
would hardly scruple to reproduce gossip, and he is often wrong, so
that one reads him with caution. Yet his statement about Sergius is
so far confirmed that so careful a writer on the Popes as Duchesne is
compelled to accept it.[185]
Benedict of Soracte, a very meagre and confused chronicler, gives
Marozia a dark character in his _Chronicle_.[186] Her son Alberic
was, he says, born out of wedlock: presumably before she married the
father, Alberic I. Flodoard, the most respectable chronicler of the
time, tells us in his _Annals_ (year 933) that John XI. was the son of
Marozia and the brother of Alberic II.; but neither there nor elsewhere
does he mention the father, and the omission is significant. Flodoard,
a deeply religious monk, under personal obligations to the Papacy, was
not the man to repeat scandalous Roman gossip; yet in his long poetic
history of the Papacy he brands Marozia as an incestuous woman united
to an adulterer, and he describes John XI., whom he disdains, as so
puny a thing that we can scarcely conceive him as a son of the vigorous
Alberic.[187] Lastly, the one-line notice of John XI. in the _Liber
Pontificalis_ says that he was "the son of Sergius III." We do not know
when or by whom this was written, but recent attempts to represent
it as an echo of Liutprand have failed. We must agree with Duchesne
that it is a distinct testimony and "more authoritative" than that of
Liutprand.
I have analyzed afresh the original evidence on this not very important
point merely in order to show the futility of recent attempts to
rehabilitate the age of John X. Pope Sergius, the chief ecclesiastic
of the Italian faction to which John belonged, was a violent and
unscrupulous man. He resigned a bishopric, and returned to the rank of
deacon, in order that he might have a better chance of the Papacy. He
was Anti-Pope to John IX. in 898, and was excommunicated and driven
from Rome; and he forced his way back at the point of the sword. The
charge that he was responsible for the death of his two predecessors
cannot be disregarded, and he certainly dealt violently with his
opponents. The charge of loose conduct is not more serious than these
things, and it rests on strong evidence.
To this party John X. belonged. His early career is not very plain,
but he appears first as a deacon at Bologna. He was chosen to succeed
Bishop Peter of that city, but, before he was consecrated, Archbishop
Kailo of Ravenna died, and John passed to Ravenna and occupied its
See. Nine years later, in 914, he was elected Bishop of Rome. It was
scarcely thirty years since his party had foully treated the body of
Formosus, partly on the charge of passing from another bishopric to
that of Rome. One naturally suspects ambition in John and powerful
influence in his favour at Rome. We know, in fact, that he was on
excellent terms with Theophylactus and Theodora,[188] and no one now
doubts that they secured his election. We are therefore not wholly
surprised, considering the age, when Liutprand assures us that he was a
charming man, and that Theodora, meeting him during one of his missions
to Rome, conceived a passion for him.
It is neither possible nor profitable to linger over the subject, and
the impartial student will probably neither assent to nor dissent
from this unconfirmed statement of the Bishop of Cremona. Liverani
ridicules it on the ground that Theodora must have been far from young,
since her daughter Marozia married Albert of Camerino about the year
915. It is curious to find a native of Italy, where girls are often
mature at twelve, and were in the old days often mothers at thirteen,
raising such an objection. Theodora may quite well have been still in
her thirties in 915. I would, however, rather call attention to the
moral condition of Europe at the time. The pious Bishop of Verona,
Ratherius, gives us an extraordinary picture of the life of some of
his episcopal colleagues.[189] They rush through their mass in the
morning, don gorgeous dresses and gold belts, and ride out to hunt on
horses with golden bridles: they return at night to rich banquets, with
massive goblets of good wine, and dancing girls for company, and dice
to follow: and they retire, too often with their companions, to beds
that are inlaid with gold and silver and spread with covers and pillows
of silk. Bishop Atto of Vercelli gives us a corresponding picture of
the lives of the lower clergy and their wives and mistresses.[190]
The proceedings of the Council of Troslé, in the year 909, confirm
and enlarge this remarkable picture.[191] Assuredly no historian who
knows the tenth century will find the charges against Sergius and John
implausible.
Whatever may be their value, John was no idle voluptuary. He found the
Saracens still devastating southern Italy and he helped, in 915, to
form a great league against them. When the Duke of Capua led out his
troops, and the Spoletans and Beneventans fell into line at last, and
even the Greeks sent a fleet, the Roman militia was marshalled, and
John rode at their head beside the fiery young Alberic of Camerino.
He was not the first of the many fighting Popes: John VIII. had built
a Papal navy and dealt the Saracens some shrewd blows. But John X.
was the first Pope to take the field in person, and we lament that
the wretched scribes of the time have left us no portrait of the
consecrated warrior. We know from his letters that he exposed himself
on the field, and from the chronicles that he fired the troops. The
Saracens were at last pinned in their camp on a hill near the mouth of
the Garigliano, and, after a long blockade, were annihilated.
John and the Marquis Alberic enjoyed a splendid ovation at Rome, and
it was probably at this date that the hand of Marozia was bestowed on
Alberic. But the victory had its price. John had to surrender some of
his patrimonies to the Duke of Gaeta and to confer the imperial crown
on King Berengar for his assistance. When Berengar came to Rome, and
promised to maintain all the rights and properties of the Papacy as
other Emperors had done, and received the crown from the hand of the
Pope, it must have seemed that a brighter day had dawned at last on
Italy. But the restless factions murmured, and in a few years Rudolph
II. of Burgundy was invited to come and seize the crown. Berengar
brought the half-civilized Hungarians to his aid, and a fresh trail of
blood and fire marred the face of Italy. He lost, and was assassinated
(924); but Rudolph, who won only the crown of Italy, was not left long
in peaceful possession of it, and the next movement of Italian politics
shows John in a singular situation at Rome.
An earlier chapter of this history was enlivened by the amours of
Lothair of Lorraine and Waldrada. They left behind them an illegitimate
daughter, Bertha, who had all the spirit and more than the ambition
of her mother. There were many women of commanding personality (and,
usually, little scruple) in the early Middle Ages, and the story
of Theodora and Marozia must not be regarded as very exceptional.
Bertha made vigorous efforts to win Italy for her favourite son,
Hugh of Provence, and, when she died in 925, his sister, Irmengard,
a fascinating woman who maintained the domestic tradition, won the
bishops and nobles of Lombardy for him by an unsparing use of her
charms. He was presently invited to come and drive the Burgundians out
of Italy. John X. joined in the invitation and went to Mantua to meet
him.
It is recorded that the Pope made some obscure bargain with him at
Mantua, and there can be little doubt that he asked Hugh's aid against
Marozia. Theophylactus and Theodora were dead, and Marozia was at
deadly feud with the Pope. Her first husband seems to have died about
925, and she had married Guido of Tuscany. Whether her quarrel with
John began before her marriage we do not know, but Liutprand tells
us that she and Guido wanted to depose the Pope. Both Liutprand and
Benedict[192] make the cause of the quarrel clear. John had called
his brother Peter to his side at Rome, and the power he gave to his
brother, and therefore withdrew from the lay nobles, infuriated his
earlier supporters. He turned, as so many Popes had done, to a distant
prince, and his career soon came to a close.
The chronicle is crude and meagre, but it suggests elementary and
unbridled passions. "The Marquis Peter," says Benedict, "so infuriated
the Romans that he was compelled to leave the city." He fortified
himself in Horta and summoned the dreaded Hungarians to his aid: than
which there could hardly be a graver crime in an Italian of the time.
They came in large numbers and trod the life out of the Roman province.
When Peter concluded that his opponents were sufficiently weakened, he
returned to Rome and gathered troops about him. There must have been
sombre days in the city in that year 928. One day, however, when it was
observed that few of Peter's men had accompanied him to the Lateran, a
band of Marozia's followers burst into the palace and laid him dead at
the Pope's feet. John himself was taken from the palace and imprisoned,
and he died in prison in the following year (929). Whether he was
murdered or died a natural death is uncertain.[193]
Such was the not unnatural termination of one of the longest
Pontificates in the history of Rome, and we have no reason to suppose
that, if we had fuller narratives than those I have quoted, they would
redeem the character of John X. His desertion of Bologna for Ravenna,
and his transfer to Rome within twenty years of the time when his
party had foully treated a dead man for just such an irregularity:
his alliance with the unscrupulous house of Theophylactus: his quite
superfluous appearance on the battlefield: his easy distribution of
royal and imperial crowns: and, above all, the maintenance of his
unprincipled brother in the teeth of deadly hostility, sufficiently
indicate his character. He was an accomplished adventurer. He writes
a very good Latin for the period, and may well have been a charming
and handsome and brave man. It is recorded that he richly decorated
the Lateran Palace. But he was a child of his age, and the historian
finds it easier to respect the sad and sincere reflection of the older
ecclesiastical writers--that Christ then slumbered in the tossing
barque of Peter--than the strained efforts of a few modern writers to
convince us that the chosen Pope of an aristocracy which they depict in
the darkest colours was merely the victim of calumny.
The little Pontifical work which John did during his fourteen years
as Pope does not dispose us to alter this estimate. The score of
his letters which survive generally relate to privileges of abbeys
or prelates which he was asked to grant or confirm. He gave support
to the monks of Fulda,[194] of St. Gall,[195] and of Cluny.[196] He
sent legates on a vague mission to Spain and granted a pallium to the
Bishop of Hamburg, who was converting the far north. He intervened
in the religious troubles of Dalmatia, at the invitation of the
local prelates, and wrote them many letters[197] for the regulation
(or Romanization) of their Slav liturgy and discipline. Even to
Constantinople, which had one of its rare moods of affection for Rome,
he sent legates to assist the Greeks in obliterating the effects of
their latest quarrel.
His work in Bulgaria is not wholly clear, or it might be interesting.
King Simeon quarrelled with the Eastern Church and turned to Rome,
and John naturally encouraged him. He sent legates to Bulgaria, and
we learn from a letter of Innocent III., long afterwards, that they
presented Simeon with a golden crown from John. It looks as if the
Pope gave Simeon some kind of imperial rank, but he did not secure the
adhesion to Rome of the Bulgarian Church.
A few letters to France and Germany are hardly more instructive.
Heribert of Vermandois seized the person of Charles the Simple, and,
when he was threatened with excommunication, hoodwinked the Pope.
Heribert then, in 925, conferred the rich See of Rheims on his
five-year-old son, and John--either in order to secure the release
of the King or dreading worse things--acquiesced.[198] In Germany
John sent his brother to assist in the restoration of discipline at
the Synod of Altheim (916). A few years later he summoned Herimann,
Archbishop of Cologne, and Hilduin and Richer, rival bishops of Liège,
to the bar of Rome. But in this apparent assertion of authority he was
really acting under pressure of the Emperor Berengar, and the sequel is
not flattering. There was a complicated quarrel about the bishopric of
Liège, and, when the litigants refused to come to Rome, John laid down
a principle which would have seemed to Nicholas I. or Gregory VII. an
outrage. He rebuked Herimann on the ground of "an ancient custom that
none save the King, to whom the sceptre is divinely committed, shall
confer a bishopric on any cleric."
These letters, a poor record of official work for so long a Pontificate
and in so disordered a world, do not alter our impression of John. Rome
shared the gloom which lay over Europe, and it is foolish to suppose
that the degenerate nobles who ruled the Papacy would put on its throne
a man who would rebuke their vices or resent their domination. Indeed,
it will be useful to follow the lamentable story a little further, as
an introduction to the revival which culminates in Gregory VII.
Marozia crowned her adventurous life in 932 by marrying the
step-brother of her late husband--the licentious Hugh of Provence whom
John had helped to put on the throne of Italy. In the preceding year
she had put in the chair of Peter her son, John XI., a mere shadow
of a Pope. But the disgusted Romans flew to arms, imprisoned John
and Marozia, and sent the brutal Hugh flying for his life. Alberic
II. then controlled the city and the Papacy for twenty years, and a
series of obscure, though apparently not unworthy, men were appointed
to discharge the scanty spiritual duties which Popes could or would
perform in that darkest of the dark ages. Alberic bequeathed his
power to his illegitimate son Octavian, and compelled the nobles and
clergy to swear to make him Pope at the next vacancy. John XII., as
he called himself, proved the worst Pope yet recorded: more at home
in the helmet than the tiara, and more expert in the cultivation than
in the suppression of vice. When his own sword proved incapable of
securing his rights, he summoned Otto I., with the customary bribe of
the imperial crown. Otto at length deposed him, after six years of
scandalous abuse of the Papacy, and he disappears from history in a
singular legend; he died, it was said, of a blow on the temples given
him by the devil--possibly in the person of the injured husband--during
one of his amorous adventures.
Ten Popes and Anti-Popes, generally men of no distinction either in
vice or virtue, succeeded each other in the next thirty years. The
factions at Rome became more and more violent, and Europe sank deeper
and deeper into the corruption from which Gregory VII. would endeavour
to rouse it. The Iron Century closed, oddly enough, with the appearance
on the Papal throne of one of the first scholars of Christian Europe,
the famous Gerbert (Silvester II.), but his brief and premature
Pontificate made no impression on that dark age. Under Sergius IV.
the Roman faction was at length destroyed, but the counts of Tusculum
now dragged the unhappy Papacy to a lower depth. Two sons of the
first Count, Benedict VIII. and John XIII., successively purchased
the votes of the electors, and, by their venality and violence, added
fresh stains to the Papal chronicle. The third son of the Count then
placed his own youthful offspring in the chair of Peter, and, under
the name of Benedict IX., this youth degraded it with crimes and
vices so well authenticated that even the most resolute apologist
cannot challenge the indictment. Pope Victor III., a few years later,
shudders to mention the "murders and robberies and nameless vices" of
Benedict,[199] and his vague charges, supported by Raoul Glaber and
other authorities, suggest that the Lateran Palace must have recalled
to the mind of any sufficiently informed Roman some of the scenes
which had been witnessed in Nero's Golden House in the lowest days of
paganism. At length, after being twice expelled from Rome, he wearied
of the Papacy--one authority says that he wished to marry--and sold it
to his uncle John Gratian for one or two thousand pounds of gold. By
this time there was a certain young Hildebrand studying in the Lateran
School, and the story of his life will tell us the sequel of this
extraordinary chapter of Papal history.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 178: Dr. Mann, iii., 285.]
[Footnote 179: Inaccurate because, however many lovers Theodora and
Marozia may have had, they were certainly not courtesans.]
[Footnote 180: See Baronius, year 912, and Mansi, xviii., 314 and 316.]
[Footnote 181: Barry's _Papal Monarchy_ (1902), pp. 146 and 150. For
criticism of the tradition see F. Liverani's study of John X. in vol.
ii. of his _Opere_ (1858) and P. Fedele's "Ricerche per la Storia da
Roma e del Papato nel Secolo X." in the _Archivi della R. Società
Romana di Storia Patria_ (vols. xxxiii. and following). Dr. Mann
follows these critics in his chapters on Sergius and John (vol. iv.).]
[Footnote 182: Published by E. Dümmler in his _Auxilius und Vulgarius_
(1866), pp. 139-146. Dr. Mann (iv., 139 and 141) thinks it incredible
that if Theodora were a vicious woman any man should write thus; but
two pages later he recollects that Vulgarius has accused Pope Sergius
of murdering his two predecessors, and he advises us to place no
reliance on the word of such a "wretched sycophant."]
[Footnote 183: _De Causa Formosiana_, c. 14.]
[Footnote 184: _Antapodosis_, ii., 48.]
[Footnote 185: In the notes to his edition of the _Liber Pontificalis_.]
[Footnote 186: C. 29.]
[Footnote 187: _De Christi Triumphis apud Italiami_, xii., 7.]
[Footnote 188: See a letter from him at Ravenna to them in Liverani,
_Opere_, iv., 7.]
[Footnote 189: _Præloquia_, v., 7.]
[Footnote 190: _Ep._, ix.]
[Footnote 191: Mansi, xviii., 263.]
[Footnote 192: _Antapodosis_, iii., 43; _Chronicon_, c. 29.]
[Footnote 193: Benedict merely records his death. Flodoard (_Annals_,
year 929) says that "some attributed his death to violence, but the
majority to grief." Liutprand (iii., 43) affirms that he was smothered
with a pillow.]
[Footnote 194: _Ep._, ii.]
[Footnote 195: _Ep._, iv.]
[Footnote 196: _Ep._, xiv.]
[Footnote 197: Published by Liverani, iv., 76-79.]
[Footnote 198: Flodoard, _Ecclesiæ Remensis Historia_, iv., 20.]
[Footnote 199: _Dialogues_, bk. iii.]
CHAPTER VIII
HILDEBRAND
The historian might almost venture to say that the Papacy was not
evolved, but created. It has assuredly, in its varying fortunes,
reflected as faithfully as any other institution the changes of
its human environment, yet for each new adaptation to favouring
circumstances it has had to await the advent of a great Pope. Seven
men, one might say, created the Papacy: Gelasius I., Leo I., Gregory
I., Hadrian I., Nicholas I., Gregory VII., and Innocent III. Each one
of these deepened the foundations and enlarged the fabric of the great
religious principality. They have had illustrious successors, and, in
some respects, the frame of the Papacy has been further strengthened;
but, on the whole, the last five hundred years have been filled with a
mighty and unavailing struggle against disintegration.
Of the seven men I have enumerated Gregory VII., or Hildebrand as
historians still like to call him, was the most romantic and the
most singularly creative. He was born about the year 1025, of humble
parents, in a Tuscan village near Sovana. An uncle of his was abbot
of a monastery on the Aventine at Rome, and young Hildebrand was at
an early date sent to be educated under his direction. We recognize
in this accident the chief clue to the personality and achievements
of Gregory VII. A century earlier a group of monks at Cluny had
reformed their ways, and their stricter ideas had slowly spread from
one isolated monastery to another. The monastery of St. Mary on the
Aventine was one of these rare centres of sincere asceticism, and in
it the boy would hear talk of the appalling degradation which had come
over the Church of Christ. It seems, however, very doubtful whether he
ever made the vows of a monk. He certainly wore the monk's habit, and
no epithet is more common on the lips of his opponents than "vagabond
monk"; while, on the other hand, his admirers accept the monastic
title, and justify the "vagabondage," by various unreliable stories
about his connexion with the Benedictines. But he never describes
himself as a monk, and he is not so described in the most reliable
documents. The point is of slight importance, since Hildebrand
certainly adopted the sentiments of the monastic reformers, and I will
not linger over the extensive and conflicting evidence.[200] Gregory's
fiery and aggressive nature would not suffer him to contemplate the
triumph of evil from the remote impotence of a monastery, but he
learned his lesson from monks and would rely on them throughout life.
He went also to the Lateran School, where John Gratian, whom we
described in the last chapter as buying the Papacy from his nephew
Benedict IX., was a teacher. Gratian marked the ecclesiastical promise
of the dark and ill-favoured little Tuscan, and, when he bought the
title of Gregory VI., made him one of his _capellani_: at that time a
body of lay officials. The work suited Hildebrand, who was even more
of a soldier than a monk. The road to Rome was lamentably beset by
brigands; the houses of many of the nobles in the city itself were, in
fact, little better than the fortified dens of wealthy banditti, and
the crowds of pilgrims might have their gifts torn from their hands at
the very steps of Peter's altar. So Hildebrand organized a militia and
made some impression on the robbers.
Gregory VI. was a more religious man than his purchase of the See would
suggest. He was conspicuous for chastity at a time when, a caustic
contemporary said, it was regarded at Rome as an angelic virtue. There
is every reason to believe that he bought the Roman See with the best
of intentions. Unhappily, Benedict IX. exhausted his treasury and
returned to claim his dignity; while another faction of the Romans
set up a pretender under the name of Silvester II. Gregory ruled his
flock--there was very little Papal ruling of the _world_ in those
days--from Sta. Maria Maggiore: Silvester controlled St. Peter's and
the Papal mansion on the Vatican: Benedict held the Lateran. This
squalid spectacle must have sunk deep into the soul of the young
reformer. But there were religious men in Rome, and the virtuous Henry
III. was summoned from Germany. The remedy was almost as humiliating
as the disorder. Henry scattered the rivals and, observing that there
was no member of the Roman clergy fit to occupy the See, he put into it
one of his German bishops, with the title of Clement II.
Hildebrand went with his patron, in the King's train, to Germany, but
the more rigorous climate soon made an end of John Gratian. It is said,
but is by no means certain, that Hildebrand then went to Cluny for
a time. It is at all events certain that in 1049, the Roman climate
having killed two German Popes in two years, Hildebrand returned to
Italy in the train of Bishop Bruno. Under the name of Leo IX. this
handsome, stately, and deeply religious Pontiff spent the next six
years in a devoted effort to reform the Church. The magnitude of his
task may be measured by that appalling indictment of clerical and
monastic vice, the _Book of Gomorrha_, which Peter Damiani wrote under
Leo IX., and with his cordial approval. Leo visited the chief countries
of Europe, but he could make little impression on that stubborn age
and he died almost broken-hearted. Under him Hildebrand served his
apprenticeship. He became a cardinal-subdeacon, a guardian of St.
Peter's, and rector of the monastery of St. Paul: in which, to his
fine disgust, he found women serving the monks. He went also as legate
to France, where he dealt leniently with and learned to esteem the
chief heretic of the age, Bérenger. Hildebrand had little insight into
character and less into speculative theology. To the end of his life he
befriended Bérenger.
Leo died in 1055, and Hildebrand was sent to ask Henry III. to choose a
successor. Henry in turn died in 1056, and, as the Roman See was again
vacant in the following year and the Romans were emboldened to choose
their own Pope, Hildebrand was sent to conciliate the Empress Agnes.
We must not exaggerate his influence at this time, but undoubtedly the
new Pope, Stephen X., and his fanatical Cardinal, Peter Damiani--both
monks of the reforming school,--regarded him as one of their most
ardent lieutenants. Indeed from that time we trace the adoption at
Rome of a policy which is clearly due to Hildebrand. The Papacy began
to look to the Normans, who had conquered southern Italy, to save it
from the overlordship of the German court, and to wage a stern war
against simony and clerical incontinence. Hildebrand, who had a strange
fascination for pious women, easily won the Empress Agnes, but she was
surrounded or controlled by simoniacal prelates and nobles. Rome must
once more change its suzerain, or its sword-bearer.
In the campaign for enforcing celibacy on the clergy the monastic
reforming school provided fresh allies. There was in the city of
Milan a young priest named Anselm of Baggio, who had studied under
Lanfranc at Bec. This enthusiast for the new ideas began a notable
campaign against clerical marriage, and, when his archbishop genially
transferred him to the remote bishopric of Lucca, he left his gospel in
charge of two other enthusiasts named Ariald and Landulph. It must be
recollected that clerics did not at that time take any vow of chastity,
and there were only a few disciplinary decrees of earlier Popes to
curtail their liberty. Most of the priests of every country were
legally married, though in some places the law of celibacy was enforced
and they simply had mistresses. Against both wives and mistresses a
furious campaign was now directed by the Patarenes.[201] The vilest
names were showered on the unhappy wives and children: the priests,
who said that they would rather desert their orders than their wives,
were torn from the altars: the most lamentable excesses in the cause
of virtue were committed in the churches. Hildebrand, and afterwards
Damiani, were sent to enforce what is described as the "pacifying
policy" of Rome, and we read that Milan approached the verge of civil
war.
While Hildebrand was still inflaming the enthusiasts of the north,
Stephen X. died, and the party opposed to the Puritans at Rome at once
elected a Pope of their own school. The young subdeacon now plainly
showed his character and masterfulness. He persuaded the virtuous
archbishop of Florence to accept the title of Nicholas II., begged a
small army from the Duke of Tuscany, entered Rome at the head of his
soldiers, and swept "Benedict X." and his supporters out of the city.
The cause of virtue was to be sustained, at whatever cost: the key-note
of his life was sounded. We may also confidently see the action of
Hildebrand in a very important decision of a Lateran synod held under
Nicholas that year (1059). In future the choice of a Pope was to be
confined to the cardinal-bishops, who would submit their decision to
the cardinal-priests and deacons.[202] The rest of the clergy and
the people were merely to signify their assent by acclamation, and
the decree contains a vague expression of respect for "the rights of
the Emperor." A sonorous anathema was laid on any who departed from
this decree; and I may add at once that Hildebrand, who was probably
its author, entirely ignored it in making the next Pope and in his
own election. It was the first phase in the struggle with the Empire.
The German court was distracted by the intrigues of rival prelates to
secure the control of the Empress and her son, while the Papacy now had
the support of the Norman Richard of Capua (whom Hildebrand induced
to swear fealty to the Papacy), the troops of Tuscany, and the staves
of the Patarenes. The German court replied by refusing to acknowledge
Nicholas II.
Hildebrand rose to the rank of deacon, then of archdeacon: the
straightest path to the Papacy. Had he willed, he could have become
Pope in 1061, when Nicholas died, but the time was not ripe for his
colossal design. The anti-Puritans now sought alliance with the German
court against him, but he summoned a band of Normans and, with the aid
of their spears, put Anselm of Lucca on the Papal throne: completely
ignoring the decree of 1059. The anti-Puritans of Rome and Lombardy
now united with the Imperialists, and Bishop Cadalus of Parma was
made Anti-Pope. The war of words which followed was disdainfully left
by Hildebrand to Damiani, who, in a page of almost indescribable
invective, assures us that Cadalus was "the stench of the globe, the
filth of the age, the shame of the universe," and that his episcopal
supporters were better judges of pretty faces than of Papal candidates.
The Imperialist Bishop Benzo of Albi, a genial Epicure who united an
equal power of invective with a more polished culture, retorted heavily
on the "vagabond monks" (Damiani and Hildebrand). At last it came to
blows, and Hildebrand acted. Cadalus descended on Rome with German
and Lombard troops: Hildebrand summoned the Normans, and a fierce
battle was waged for the tiara under the very shadow of St. Peter's.
Then Godfrey of Tuscany appeared on the scene with his army, and the
decision was remitted to a synod at Augsburg. Hildebrand was content,
for a revolution had occurred at the German court, and Damiani was sent
to win the verdict at Augsburg by the ingenious expedient of being
himself counsel for both sides.
The way was now rapidly prepared for the Pontificate of Hildebrand.
Godfrey of Tuscany died, and his pious widow Beatrice and still more
impressionable daughter Mathilda were prepared to put their last
soldier at his disposal. The Patarenes were reinforced by the knight
Herlembald (whose lady-love had been seduced by a priest), and were
dragging the married priests from their churches and destroying
their homes in many parts of north Italy. At Florence the monks of
Vallombrosa lent their fiery aid, even against the troops, and one
of their number passed unscathed through the ordeal of fire before
an immense concourse of people. In the south Robert Guiscard was
expelling the last remnants of the Saracens and founding a powerful
Norman kingdom. All these forces marched under banners blessed and
presented by the Pope. One banner advanced by the side of the ferocious
Herlembald: one shone at the head of the Norman troops in Calabria:
one was seen in the ranks of William of Normandy when he made his
successful raid upon England.[203]
Alexander closed his short and earnest Pontificate on April 21, 1073.
Hildebrand, in his capacity of archdeacon, took stringent measures for
the preservation of order, or the coercion of the Imperialist faction;
yet, when the voice of the people demanded that _he_ should be Pope,
his troops made no effort to secure an election according to the decree
of 1059. He was conducting the funeral service over the remains of
Alexander, on April 22d, when the cry, "Hildebrand bishop," was raised.
He protested, but Cardinal Hugh Candidus, one of the most versatile
clerical politicians of the time and afterwards the Pope's deadly
enemy, stood forth and insisted that the cry was just. Hildebrand
was seized and conducted, almost carried, to the church of St. Peter
in Chains, where he was enthroned, as he afterwards wrote to Abbot
Didier,[204] by "popular tumult." It is not certain, but is entirely
probable, that he sought the imperial ratification. We may conclude
that he did this, since, when he was consecrated on June 30th, the
Empress Agnes and the imperial representative in Italy were present.
In the letters which Gregory issued to his friends throughout Europe
immediately after his election he observes that the strain and anxiety
have made him ill. We can well believe that when the hour arrived for
him to mount the throne of Peter, instead of standing behind it, he
felt a grave foreboding. No man had ever yet ascended that throne with
so portentous an idea of its prestige and responsibility, and no Pope
had ever confronted a more disordered Christendom. There had been good
men at the Lateran for thirty years, yet in the eyes of Hildebrand they
must have seemed idle, timid, and ineffective. A Pope must wear out
his body and lay down his life in the struggle with triumphant evil:
must smite king or prelate or peasant without a moment's hesitation:
must use every weapon that the times afforded--excommunication or
imprecation, the spear of the Norman or the sword of the Dane, the
staff of the ignorant fanatic or the tender devotion of woman. "The
Blessed Peter on earth," as Hildebrand called himself, had a right to
implicit obedience from every man on earth, on temporal no less than
on spiritual matters. Kings were of less consequence than the meanest
priests. If kings and dukes resisted his grand plan of making the whole
of Christendom "pure and obedient," why not make their kingdoms and
duchies fiefs of the Holy See, to be bestowed on virtuous men? Why not
make Europe the United States of the Church, governed despotically by
the one man on earth who was "inspired by God"? If anathemas failed,
there were swords enough in Europe to carry out his plan. That,
literally, was the vision which filled the feverish imagination of
Gregory VII. when he looked down from his throne over the world.
It was the dream of a soldier-monk, unchecked by understanding of men
or accurate knowledge of history. Such reformers as Cardinal Damiani
and Abbot Didier resented Gregory's aims and procedure: they were
most appreciated by women like the Countess Mathilda. Hildebrand
is said to have been a learned man, but we have cause to take with
reserve mediæval compliments of this kind. He knew the Bible well,
and was steeped in the congenial atmosphere of the Old Testament. He
knew Church-history and law well: as they were told at the Lateran.
Döllinger has shown that his principal lieutenants in the work of
reform--Bishop Anselm of Lucca (a second Anselm), Bishop Bonitho, and
Cardinal Deusdedit--were unscrupulous in their use of historical and
canonical documents, and that Gregory relied on these as well as on
the older forgeries.[205] I am, however, chiefly concerned with the
limitations of his knowledge, and will observe only that his letters,
written in robust and inelegant Latin, give no indication of culture
beyond this close acquaintance with very dubious history and law. The
Arab civilization had by this time enkindled some intellectual life
in Europe: men were not far from the age of Abélard. But in this new
speculative life Gregory had no share. If we find him, with apparent
liberality, acquitting Bérenger in 1049 and 1079, we must ascribe it
rather to incapacity and disinclination for speculative matters.
This restriction and inaccuracy of culture strengthened Gregory in
his peculiar ideal, and it was much the same with his poor judgment
of character, which brought many a disaster on him. Probably men
like Hildebrand and Damiani enjoyed a physical debility in regard
to sex-life, and sincerely failed to realize that the abolition of
clerical marriage would inevitably lead to worse evils. The ideal they
worked for--the establishment of a spiritual army dead to every human
affection, and therefore incorruptible--was magnificent but impossible.
Similarly, in the campaign against simony, Gregory never realized
the roots of the evil. Bishops were politicians, the supporters or
thwarters of the counsels of princes; intellectual culture was, in
fact, almost confined to bishops and abbots, and their advice was
(apart from their wealth, their troops, and their feudal duties) needed
as much as that of unlettered soldiers. Hence princes had a real and
deep interest in their appointment. The intrigue for political power
at that very time of the great prelates of Germany was notorious. If
Gregory had at least confined his strictures to simony in the strict
sense, he might have had some prospect of success, for his cause was
obviously just. But by his attack on "investiture"[206] he would take
away from princes the control of some of their most powerful, and often
most mischievous, vassals.
Yet, instead of seeking to deprive bishops and abbots of wealth and
troops and political influence, Hildebrand wanted them to have more.
He encouraged Anselm of Lucca to lead the Tuscan troops; he proposed
in person to lead the Christian armies against the Turks. Throughout
life he called for more men and more money, and he never hesitated
an instant to set swords flying if he could gain his religious aim
by that means. He was as warlike as a full-blooded Norman. Bishop
Mathew calls him "truculent," and reminds us how, before he became
Pope, Abbot Didier wanted to punish an abbot, who had gouged out the
eyes of some of his monks for their sins, but Hildebrand protected the
man and afterwards made him a bishop. Didier and Damiani were equally
shocked at his political activity. He scorned the distinction between
spiritual and temporal things--except when he was endeavouring to keep
laymen in their proper place--and argued repeatedly that, if a Pope had
supreme power in matters of religion, he very clearly had it in the
less important concerns of earth: if a Pope could open and close the
gates of heaven, he could most assuredly open and close the gates of
earthly kingdoms. He went so far as to say that "all worldly things,
be they honours, empires, kingdoms, principalities, or duchies," he
could bestow on whomsoever he wished.[207] On this ground he, as we
shall see, grasped the flimsiest pretexts for claiming a kingdom as a
fief of the Roman See, relying often on forged or perverted texts, and
he quite clearly aimed at bringing all the countries in Christendom
under the feudal lordship of the Papacy, to be bestowed for "obedience"
and withdrawn for "disobedience" at the will of the Pope. I do not
admit that he was ambitious, even ambitious for his See. He believed
that this sacerdocracy was willed by God and was the only means of
maintaining religion and morality in Europe. But there were human
aspects of these questions which Gregory ignored, and his bitter and
numerous opponents retorted that he was a fool or a fanatic.
This ideal did not merely grow in Gregory's mind in the heat of his
combats. It is seen in his earliest letters. Before he was consecrated
he wrote to remind "the Princes of Spain" that that country belonged
to the Roman See; that the Popes had never abandoned their right to
it, even when it was held by the Moors: and that the kings who were
now wresting it from the Moors held their kingdoms "on behalf of St.
Peter" (_ex parte S. Petri_) and on condition that they rendered feudal
military service when summoned to do so.[208] A few weeks later he
wrote to Duke Godfrey, referring to Henry IV.: "If he returns hatred
for love, and shows contempt for Almighty God for the honour conferred
on him, the imprecation which runs, 'Cursed is he that refraineth his
sword from blood,' will not, with God's help, fall on _us_."[209] In
June he told Beatrice and Mathilda that he would resist the King,
if necessary, "to the shedding of blood."[210] In the same month he
compelled Landulph of Benevento and Richard of Capua to swear fealty
to the Roman See. In November he told Lanfranc, the greatest prelate
of England, that he was astounded at his "audacity" (_frons_) in
neglecting Papal orders.[211] In December he wrote to a French bishop
that if King Philip did not amend his ways he would smite the French
people with "the sword of a general anathema" and they would "refuse to
obey him further."[212] A remarkable record for the first nine months
of his Pontificate.
I shall not in the least misrepresent his work if I dismiss
other matters briefly and enlarge on his attempts to realize his
sacerdocratic ideal: especially his struggle with Henry IV. His
campaign against simony and clerical incontinence fills the whole
period of his Pontificate, but cannot be described in detail. Year by
year his handful of Italian bishops--remoter bishops generally ignored
his drastic orders to come to Rome--met in Lenten synods at Rome, held
their lighted candles while he read the ever-lengthening list of the
excommunicated, and shuddered at his vigorous imprecations. Then his
legates went out over Europe, but few prelates were willing or able to
promulgate the decrees they brought, and the campaign succeeded only
where it could rely on the staves of the Patarenes or the swords of
the Pope's allies. Other episcopal functions, such as settlements of
jurisdiction, occupy a relatively small part of his correspondence. It
is enough to say that his eye ranged from Lincoln to Constantinople,
from Stockholm to Carthage.
In Italy, his chief concern was to concentrate the southern States
under his lead and form a military bulwark against the northerners.
The Roman militia was strengthened: the petty princes of Benevento
and Capua were persuaded that their shrunken territories were safer
from the aggressions of Robert Guiscard if they paid allegiance to
St. Peter: Mathilda of Tuscany did not even need to be persuaded to
hold her troops at his disposal. It would be safe to say that Italy
alone would have wrecked Gregory's policy but for the lucky accident
of Tuscany passing to the pious Mathilda. She clung to Gregory so
tenaciously that his opponents affected to see a scandal in the
association.
The chief thorn in his side was Robert Guiscard, who had founded a
kingdom in southern Italy and refused to do homage. He laid waste the
territory of the Pope's allies, and smiled at the anathema put on him.
Gregory, as usual, turned to the sword. The Eastern Emperor had asked
aid against the Turks, and Gregory summoned all Christian princes
to contribute troops. He would lead the army in person, he said:
supported by the aged Beatrice and the tender Mathilda. The northern
princes smiled, and the plan of a crusade came to naught. But it was
not merely concern for Constantinople which made Gregory dangerously
ill when his plan miscarried. Historians generally overlook his letter
to William of Burgundy,[213] in which he plainly states that he wants
the troops for the purpose of intimidating--if not conquering--Robert:
"perhaps," he says, they may afterwards proceed to the East. He was
still more irritated when Robert himself entered into an alliance with
Constantinople. Gregory angrily wrote to ask the King of Denmark to
send his son with an army and wrest the south of Italy from the "vile
heretics" who held it.[214]
He was similarly thwarted in nearly every country in Europe, and his
anathemas were terrible to hear. I have already referred to his haughty
language to Lanfranc, yet the English bishops continued, year after
year, to ignore the imperious summons to attend his Roman synods.
In 1079 Gregory wrote to Lanfranc that he understood that the King
prevented them from coming, and was surprised that the "superstitious
love" or fear of any man should come between him and his duty.[215]
Lanfranc still evaded, almost fooled, him, and, when Gregory threatened
to suspend him, affected to be engaged in examining the claims of an
Anti-Pope whom Henry IV. had set up. With William himself Gregory was
bitterly disappointed. When, in 1080, he ordered the King to collect
the arrears of Peter's Pence and acknowledge his feudal obligations to
Rome, William somewhat contemptuously replied that he would forward the
money, but would pay allegiance to no man. Gregory was so angry that
he told his legates that the money was no use without the "honour."[216]
The bishops of France were equally deaf to his annual summons to his
Lenten synods and his orders that they should punish their King. He
threatened, not only to pronounce an interdict, but that he would
"endeavour _in every way_ to take the kingdom of France from him."[217]
A similar threat of military action was sent to Spain. King Alphonso of
Leon married a relative, and Gregory wrote to the abbot of Cluny that
if the King did not obey his orders and dismiss her he would "not think
it too great a trouble to go ourselves to Spain and concert severe and
painful action [evidently military action] against him."[218] This
policy of promoting or blessing invasions and usurpations was carried
out in the case of smaller kingdoms. King Solomon was ejected from
Hungary and appealed to Rome. Gregory blessed the usurper (who craftily
promised to be a good son of the Church) and told Solomon that he had
deserved the calamity by receiving his kingdom, which had been given to
St. Peter by the earlier King Stephen, at the hand of Henry IV.[219]
Then Ladislaus of Hungary seized Dalmatia and sought to strengthen
his position by paying fealty to the Pope for it; so that, when the
Dalmatians attempted to recover their independence, Gregory denounced
them as "rebels against the Blessed Peter."[220] Lastly, when the
Russian king was displaced by his brothers, and promised to acknowledge
the feudal supremacy of Rome if he were restored, Gregory induced
Boleslaus of Poland to restore him.
If this kind of procedure incurred the censure of Gregory's great
friend and successor, Abbot Didier, we can easily understand the
violent language of his opponents. These are usually writers of the
Lombard-German faction, and we must now endeavour to disentangle from
the contradictory narratives of the partisan writers the truth about
his relations with Henry IV. The facts I have hitherto given are taken
from the authentic letters of Gregory.
Henry IV. was a boy at the time of his father's death, and it is
beyond dispute that the prelates and nobles who quarrelled for power
shamefully neglected, or consciously misdirected, his education. When
he came to the throne he was a wilful, loose-living, and imperious
young man, forced into marriage with a woman whom he disliked.
Exhortations to abandon simony and avoid evil companions fell lightly
on such ears, and, as we saw, Gregory's early letters threatened war.
Five of Henry's favourites were under sentence of excommunication,
yet the young King would not part with them. Gregory turned to the
bishops, but they flatly refused to allow his legates to call a synod
in Germany, and his excommunication of the Archbishop of Hamburg only
embittered them. Suddenly, however, before the end of 1073, Gregory was
delighted to receive a most humble and submissive letter from Henry,
and legates were sent to absolve him.
The cause of this action of the imperious young King gives us at once a
most important clue to what is called the later triumph of Gregory at
Canossa. The popular impression that that famous scene represented a
triumph of spiritual power over the passions of man is wholly wrong.
It was an episode in a political struggle. Henry's kingdom embraced
Saxony and Swabia; and the Saxons cherished a sombre memory of their
recent incorporation, while Rudolph of Swabia had a mind to make profit
by the troubles of his suzerain and astutely courted the favour of the
Pope. Gregory could not fail to grasp the situation, and his struggle
against Henry is a series of attempts by the Pope to foment and take
advantage of Henry's difficulties with his vassals, ending in the
complete triumph of the King.
Henry's submission in 1074 meant that there was a dangerous rebellion
in Saxony. The King did not, in fact, part entirely with his
excommunicated favourites, and the anathema on them was renewed at
the synod of 1075, which also laid a heavy censure on "any emperor,
duke, marquis, count, or any temporal lord, or any secular person
whatsoever," who claimed the right of investiture. Henry remained
friendly: the Saxon war dragged on. In October Henry was sending
legates to Rome to confer with the Pope, who had hinted at compromise
on the subject of investitures. But the Saxon rebellion suddenly
came to an end, and three legates were now sent with a less pleasant
message: probably a peremptory claim of the imperial crown. Henry had
not only a united Germany, but a strong party in Lombardy. Herlembald
was killed, and the Patarenes held in check. Moreover, the recalcitrant
bishops were now joined by the Archbishop of Ravenna (who had been
hastily excommunicated by Gregory for not attending the Lenten synod)
and Cardinal Hugh Candidus. Elated with this support, the young King
acted wilfully. He sent one of his excommunicated nobles to Lombardy,
crushed the Patarenes, and set up a third Archbishop of Milan,
Tedald.[221]
Gregory was alarmed at this combination and at first temporized.
He invited Tedald to come to Rome for a polite discussion of his
claims; he sent Henry a "doubtful blessing" and would compromise on
investitures and consider his further demands, if he abandoned the
excommunicated nobles.[222] But he gave Henry's envoys, to whom he
handed the letter, a verbal message of a more drastic nature. He
threatened to depose Henry for his "horrible crimes," and there is
good reason to suppose that these "crimes" were, in part at least, the
slanderous fictions of Henry's enemies.[223] Both were men of fiery
and indiscreet impulses, and this impolitic act of Gregory kindled the
conflagration.
Meantime a remarkable experience befell Gregory at Rome, and it is
not unlikely that he held Henry responsible for it; though it is
practically certain that Henry was wholly innocent. The increasing
difficulties of the Pope encouraged the anti-Puritans at Rome, and
one of them, Cenci, a notorious bandit, burst into the church of Sta.
Maria on the Esquiline while Gregory was saying midnight mass there
on Christmas day (1075). His men scattered the attendants, and one of
them struck the Pope with a sword, causing a wound on the forehead.
Gregory was stripped of his sacerdotal robes, thrust on a horse behind
one of the soldiers, and hurried to Cenci's fortified tower. Some
noble matron was taken with him--one of the strangest circumstances of
the whole mysterious episode--and she bound his wounds as he lay in
the tower, while Cenci threatened to kill him unless he handed over
the keys of the Papal treasury. It is fairly clear that the motive was
robbery. Meantime the bells and trumpets had spread the alarm through
Rome, and the militia beset the tower and relieved the Pope. This
remarkable picture of a winter's night in the capital of Christendom
ends with Gregory, who cannot have been severely wounded, calmly
returning to the altar and finishing his mass.
Henry's envoys had left Rome before Christmas, and it is therefore a
mistake to suppose that the message they brought from Gregory had any
reference to the violence of Cenci. They reached the court at Goslar on
January 1, 1076, and we can easily believe that they would not moderate
the offensiveness of the oral message. Gregory had a deliberate policy
of preferring oral to written messages. There may at times have been
an advantage in this, but in the present instance it was gravely
imprudent. Henry's friends urged him to avenge the insult, and three
weeks later a synod of twenty-six German bishops, with a large number
of abbots, met at Worms and declared Gregory deposed. The irregularity
of his election, the despotism of his conduct, and what was described
as his scandalous association with women, were the chief reasons
assigned for this action. The decree was sent to the insurgent bishops
of north Italy, who met in council and endorsed it, and a priest of
the church of Parma volunteered to serve the sentence on Gregory. He
reached Rome at a moment when Gregory was presiding at a large synod
in the Lateran Palace, and boldly read the sentence to the assembled
bishops. Lay nobles drew their swords upon the audacious priest, but
Gregory restrained them and bade them hear the words of Henry. His
intemperate and insulting letter--so intemperate that the Pope could
easily remain calm and dignified--could receive only one reply. The
King and all his supporters were excommunicated, and Gregory issued a
not unworthy letter "To All Christians"[224] informing them that the
subjects of King Henry of Germany were released from their allegiance.
There can be no doubt that Henry IV. had merited a sentence of
excommunication, and it is a nice point whether a King could continue
to rule his territory when he was thus cut off from communication with
his subjects. We may, at all events, gravely question whether the
Pope was either politic or just in going on formally to depose the
King, and, as the news of this unprecedented action spread through
Christendom, even religious prelates shook their heads. Throughout the
rest of his life Gregory had repeatedly to defend his conduct, not
against the partisans of Henry, but against some of his own supporters.
His chief apology is contained in a letter to the Bishop of Metz[225]
and is invalid and illogical. He relies on a forged letter of St.
Peter, and he appeals to the excommunication of Theodosius by St.
Ambrose and the "deposition" of Childeric by Pope Zachary in 753; the
former was in no sense a precedent, and in the latter case the Pope
merely confirmed the design of Pippin and the Franks. There was no
precedent whatever for deposition, and Gregory is severely censured
even by modern writers for not observing the canonical forms in his
excommunication of Henry.[226]
Gregory at once prepared for war. The Duchess Beatrice died in April,
and the devoted Mathilda, who was so pointedly insulted, though not
named, in her royal cousin's manifesto, put the troops of Tuscany at
the Pope's disposal. Gregory also tried to reconcile the Normans with
each other and weld them into a common army for the defence of Rome.
But his chief reliance was on the Germans themselves. He knew well,
when he excommunicated Henry, that the embittered Saxons would leap
with joy at the fresh pretext of rebellion, and the intriguing Swabians
would secretly welcome the censure. Henry found himself very soon on
the road to Canossa. He summoned two councils in rapid succession, but
their defiance of the Pope brought him little pleasure when he noted
the small number of his supporters. Saxony threw off his yoke at once,
and prelates and nobles began to fall away from his cause. Gregory
pressed his advantage with fiery energy, showering letters upon the
German clergy and people, and in the middle of October a large body of
the nobles and prelates (chiefly Saxon and Swabian) met at Tribur, near
Darmstadt, to consider the position of the kingdom. Two Papal legates
and Rudolph of Swabia presided, and Henry watched the proceedings from
the other side of the river.
From this stage onward we are compelled to consult the contemporary
chroniclers, and it is almost impossible to disentangle the truth from
their contradictory and mendacious statements. It is clear that for
seven days the Diet held long debate on the situation. Undoubtedly
they wished to depose Henry, but, apparently, they were unwilling to
recognize in the Pope this dangerous power of deposing kings, and the
Diet seems to have ended with an injunction to Henry to make peace
with the Pope. According to the monk Lambert of Hersfeld, who seems
to have gathered into his _Chronicle_ all the wild cloister-gossip
of the time, the Diet decided that, according to the "Laws of the
Palace,"--there were no such laws at that time,--Henry forfeited his
crown if he remained excommunicated a year and a day, and commanded
him to retire into private life at Spires until Gregory should come to
Germany and decide the case. The Gregorian writer, Bishop Bonitho,[227]
contrives in this instance to improve on Lambert; he tells us that,
if Henry submitted, the nobles would accompany him to Rome, where he
would receive the imperial crown, and they would then sweep the Normans
out of south Italy. One suspects that in this the Bishop of Sutri is
betraying a design of Gregory which was certainly not endorsed by the
Diet.
The most authentic evidence is the _Promissio_ (or Letter of Apology)
which, at the dictation of the Diet, Henry submitted to the Pope.[228]
He expressed regret for any affront he may have put on the dignity of
the Pope, promised obedience on spiritual matters, and declared that
on certain other grave matters he would vindicate his innocence. When
this short and dry letter was eventually handed to the Pope by one of
the chief prelates of Germany, Gregory was outraged to find that its
concluding sentence ran: "But it befitteth thy Holiness not to ignore
the things repeated about thee which bring scandal on the Church, but
to remove this scruple from the public conscience and provide in thy
wisdom for the tranquillity of the Church and the kingdom." Gregorian
writers insist that this was added by Henry to the draft approved by
the Diet, but this is by no means certain. Henry was not a broken man.
He had a considerable force with him, and Rudolph of Swabia evidently
found that it would be no easy task to displace him. The edict which
Henry published at the same time, declaring that he had been misled
when he obtained a censure of the Pope, gives one the same impression.
He had still a powerful following, and it was agreed to avert civil
war by reconciliation and by inviting Gregory to preside at a Diet at
Augsburg.
Gregory, in spite of the advice of his friends (except Mathilda, who
spurred him on), at once set out for the north. His impetuous journey
was, however, arrested in the north of Italy by the news that the
German nobles had failed to send an escort for him, and that Henry
himself was crossing the Alps with a large army. Mathilda persuaded him
to retire to her impregnable fortress of Canossa, and there, about the
end of January, Henry enacted his historic part of penitent.
Here the chroniclers are hopelessly discordant, and the full
picturesque narrative of Lambert of Hersfeld, on which some historians
still implicitly rely, has been riddled by modern critics.[229] It
is clear that Henry wished to keep the Pope out of Germany, and he
there-fore hastily crossed the Alps in the depth of winter. It is
clear that a "vast army" (in the words of Lambert himself) gathered
about him in rebellious Lombardy, but he pushed on with a few followers
(incidentally admitted by Lambert) to Canossa. It is clear that
Gregory, on the other hand, was desperately bent on presiding over
a council in Germany, and shocked his friends by his obstinacy in
refusing to be reconciled[230]; he had condemned Henry without trial,
but he would not absolve him without trial. And, obviously inaccurate
as the narrative of Lambert is,[231] it seems to me certain that Henry
went through the form of penance on the icy platform before the gate of
Canossa. In the letter written immediately afterwards to the nobles and
prelates of Germany,[232] Gregory describes Henry as doing penance for
three days, in bare feet and woollen robe, before the gates. However
impolitic and irritating it was for Gregory to write such a letter, Dr.
Dammann seems to me to fail to impeach its genuineness. Indeed in his
great speech to the Roman synod of 1080, when he excommunicated Henry a
second time, Gregory says that in 1076 Henry came to him "in confusion
and humiliation" at Canossa to ask absolution.
Thus the scene which has ever since impressed the imagination of Europe
is in substance authentic; though we are by no means compelled to
think that Henry literally stood in the snow for three whole days. But
the common interpretation of the scene is quite false. It was not a
spiritual triumph, but a political pseudo-triumph. In reality, it was
Henry who triumphed; and one can imagine him jesting merrily afterwards
about his bare feet and coarse robe of penitence. He promised to amend
his ways, and then proceeded to make a tour of Italy in light-hearted
confidence and with all his old wilfulness. He refused to interfere
when a Papal Legate was thrown into prison at Piacenza; and he refused
to provide Gregory with an escort when the Germans invited the Pope to
come and preside at their new Diet.[233] Gregory soon realized that the
war had merely passed into a new and more difficult phase, and we must
follow it swiftly to its tragic end in the utter defeat of the Pope.
Gregory sent two Legates to the Diet of Forchheim on March 13th, where,
with their consent, Rudolph of Swabia was declared King of Germany.
The Papal Legates exacted that he should not claim the succession for
his family--apparently Germany was to be the next fief of the Roman
See--and should abandon investiture. When Henry pressed the Pope to
excommunicate Rudolph, he replied that he had not yet heard Rudolph's
case--an "unworthy subterfuge," Bishop Mathew justly remarks--and
Henry set out for Germany. In the three-years struggle which followed,
the Pope adopted a policy which few historians hesitate to condemn.
He sent Legates repeatedly, claiming that he alone was the judge:
that "if the See of the Blessed Peter decides and judges heavenly
and spiritual things, how much the more shall it judge things earthly
and secular."[234] He even promised the crown to whichever of the
combatants should respect his Legates: a remarkable test of the justice
he promised to administer. He evidently hoped that Rudolph would win,
but feared that the victory _might_ fall to Henry; and, above all, he
desired to judge the princes of the earth. At last the Saxons in turn
began to abuse him. His Legates, they said, were offering his verdict
to the highest bidder--assuredly without his knowledge--and his policy
was unintelligible. Bishops were saying that the Papacy had become "the
tail of the Church."
At the Lenten synod of the year 1080 representatives of both princes
came before Gregory and his bishops, and the great decision was taken.
Henry was found guilty of "disobedience," and, after a long and
eloquent speech, Gregory excommunicated him once more and confirmed
Rudolph in the kingdom of Germany. Bishop Bonitho[235] tells us that
Henry had sent an ultimatum: if Gregory did not at once condemn
Rudolph he would appoint another Pope. This is, apparently, the real
inspiration of the synod and of Gregory's fiery speech.[236] Henry's
partisans retorted by excommunicating Gregory and consecrating Guibert
of Ravenna as Anti-Pope, and, as Rudolph fell in battle in October,
the Gregorian cause was in a lamentable plight. Gregory had, in his
extremity, overlooked all the crimes of Robert Guiscard--"for the
present" he quaintly said in the treaty--and made an alliance with
him, but Robert was still engaged in the East, and Henry's troops
made great havoc in Mathilda's dominions. Yet Gregory repeated his
excommunication of the King, and wrote letters all over Europe to
defend his action and obtain money and troops.
Several years passed in this indecisive warfare, Henry wearing down the
Tuscan troops and cutting off supplies from Rome. At length, toward
the end of March, 1084, the Romans, weary of the long siege, opened
their gates to Henry, and Gregory shut himself in the impregnable
fortress of Sant' Angelo. From the windows, for two dreary months,
Gregory had to watch the progress of the victorious Imperialists and
the triumph of the Anti-Pope, Clement III. In May he was elated by the
message that Henry had fled and Robert Guiscard was marching to Rome
with a large force. But his joy was brief. A brawl with the Romans
let loose the half-barbaric Normans, and the city was visited with
one of the most pitiless raids in its eventful history. Thousands of
the Romans were sold into slavery: sacred virgins and matrons were
savagely raped: large districts of the city were burned to the ground.
For this the infuriated Romans cast the whole blame on the Pope, and
he was forced to retire with Robert. In penury and impotence he rode
into the abbey of Monte Cassino, where Abbot Didier would hardly fail
to remind him that they who appeal to the sword are apt to perish by
the sword, and then on to Salerno. Surrounded by the shrunken remains
of his supporters he made a last appeal to the Christian world to
espouse his cause, and he feebly cast forth his last anathemas. But
the fight was lost, and he wearily drew his last breath on May 25,
1085. "I have loved justice and hated iniquity, therefore I die in
exile," he said. It was not wholly true. He was exiled by the people of
Rome, whose devastated homes made them heap curses on his iron policy.
History honours the purity of his ultimate aim, the heroism with which
he pursued it, the greatness, with all its defects, of his character;
it sternly condemns the means he employed, the tortuous and dangerous
character of his reasoning, the appalling claim that kingdoms were toys
in his hand. He failed; but he had, in reality, so strengthened the
frame of the Papacy that it would take an earthquake to shake it.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 200: The two ablest recent writers on Hildebrand, the Right
Reverend Dr. A.H. Mathew (_The Life and Times of Hildebrand_, 1910)
and Dr. W. Martens (_War Gregor VII. Mönch?_, 1891, and _Gregor VII._,
2 vols. 1894--an invaluable study), hold that he never took the vows.
The chief biography of Hildebrand on the Catholic side is now the Abbé
O. Delarc's _Grégoire VII. et la Réforme de l'Église au XI siècle_
(3 vols., 1889). Slight but excellent sketches will be found in F.
Roquain's _La Papauté au moyen âge_ (1881) and _Hildebrand and His
Times_ (1888) by W.R.W. Stephens. Older writers like Voigt, Gfrörer,
Villemain, and Bowden are now of little use. The original authorities
are as numerous as they are unreliable. The partisans of Gregory
(chiefly Bonitho and Donizo) are scarcely more scrupulous than the
partisans of Henry (Benzo, Benno, Guido, etc.), or those of Rudolph
(Lambert, Berthold, Bruno, etc.). Fortunately we have a large number of
Gregory's letters, and, as usual, I rely chiefly on these.]
[Footnote 201: The reformers of Milan worked chiefly among the poor,
especially in the "old-clothes quarter," or _Pataria_. Hence the name
of the party.]
[Footnote 202: The word "cardinal" occurs occasionally in early
ecclesiastical literature in its literal meaning of "important," and
is applied to clerics of various orders. After the fifth century it
is restricted at Rome to the first priests of each of the _tituli_
(quasi-parishes) into which the city was divided. They numbered
twenty-eight in the eleventh century. In the course of time the name
was also given to the seventeen leading deacons of Rome and the seven
suburbicarian bishops.]
[Footnote 203: In this last case we have the assurance of Hildebrand
himself that he dictated the Papal policy. Years afterwards he wrote
to William (_Ep._, vii., 23) that, when the Norman envoys came to
ask Papal approval of his design, it was generally censured as an
unjustifiable raid, and Hildebrand alone induced Pope Alexander to send
the Normans a banner: on condition, he adds, that William secured the
payment of Peter's Pence by the reluctant English and in other ways
promoted the interests of Rome. But even William did not dream that his
acceptance of the banner made England, in Hildebrand's opinion, a fief
of the Roman See!]
[Footnote 204: _Ep._, i., 1.]
[Footnote 205: _Das Papstthum_ (1892), ch. ii., § 2. See also F.
Roquain's _La Papauté au moyen âge_. Roquain observes, leniently, that
Gregory was "not entirely exempt from reproach in the use of means to
attain his ends" (p. 127) and fell into "excesses unworthy of his great
soul" (p. 131). In his famous letter to the Bishop of Metz (viii.,
21) Gregory omits an essential part of a passage which he quotes from
Gelasius and materially alters its meaning. When we further find him
writing (ix., 2) that "even a lie that is told for a good purpose in
the cause of peace is not _wholly_ free from blame," we fear that he
was not far from the maxim that the end justifies the means.]
[Footnote 206: The secular ruler had long been accustomed to bestow the
crozier and ring on his nominee for a bishopric, and this was known as
"investiture." The practice undoubtedly led to much simony and to the
appointment of unworthy men, but, as the event proved, a compromise was
possible.]
[Footnote 207: Speech to the Roman synod of the year 1080 (Migne, vol.
cxlviii., col. 816). Compare _Ep._, viii., 21.]
[Footnote 208: _Ep._, i., 7.]
[Footnote 209: _Ep._, i., 9.]
[Footnote 210: I., 11.]
[Footnote 211: I., 31.]
[Footnote 212: I., 35.]
[Footnote 213: I., 46.]
[Footnote 214: II., 51.]
[Footnote 215: VI., 30.]
[Footnote 216: VII., 1.]
[Footnote 217: II., 5 and 32.]
[Footnote 218: VIII., 2.]
[Footnote 219: In both statements of fact Gregory was wrong. Stephen
had merely accepted a consecrated banner from the Anti-Pope Silvester
II.; and Solomon had voluntarily chosen Henry as his suzerain.]
[Footnote 220: VIII., 4.]
[Footnote 221: There was a Gregorian archbishop in exile. The actual
prelate may not have been zealous enough for Henry.]
[Footnote 222: Iii., 10.]
[Footnote 223: A good deal of controversy has been expended on the
question whether Gregory did or did not threaten at this stage to
depose Henry. Gregory's letter xxvi. (not in his Register, but of
undoubted authenticity) to "the German People" expressly admits, or
boasts, that he did. For further evidence see Dr. Martens, _Gregor
VII._, i., 86-91.]
[Footnote 224: iii., 6.]
[Footnote 225: Viii., 21.]
[Footnote 226: See C. Mirbt's special study of the conflict, _Die
Absetzung Heinrichs IV._ (1888), p. 103.]
[Footnote 227: _Liber ad Amicum_, 1. viii.]
[Footnote 228: A translation may be read in Delarc, iii., 252.]
[Footnote 229: One recent student, Dr. Albert Dammann (_Der Sieg
Heinrichs IV. in Kanossa_, 1907 and 1909), goes to the other extreme,
and concludes that Henry blockaded Canossa with a large army and
compelled the Pope to withdraw his censure, without a single act of
penance.]
[Footnote 230: _Ep._, iv., 12.]
[Footnote 231: For instance he describes a dramatic scene in which
Henry shrinks from receiving the sacred host, whereas Gregory says
(_Ep._, iv., 12) that he admitted Henry to communion. His story is full
of contradictions.]
[Footnote 232: Iv., 12.]
[Footnote 233: Gregorian writers said afterwards that Henry's royal
dignity was not restored at Canossa. In point of fact he actually
signed his promise of reform as "king" and he refused to take an oath
on the express ground that the word of a king of Germany sufficed.
Gregory made no complaint on this score until years afterwards, though
Henry resumed his royal character the moment he left Canossa.]
[Footnote 234: Iv., 24.]
[Footnote 235: Bk. ix.]
[Footnote 236: It may be read in Migne, vol. cxlviii., col. 816. It
includes the imprecation on Henry, "May he gain no victory as long as
he lives," and again asserts that all honours and powers are at the
disposal of the Pope.]
CHAPTER IX
INNOCENT III.: THE PAPAL ZENITH
That Papal policy or ideal of which we have traced the development in
the minds of the greater Popes attains its fullest expansion during the
Pontificate of Innocent III. Historians usually assign the year 1300 as
the date of the culmination of the Papal system, but it had in reality
attained its full stature under Innocent III. It did indeed make its
last impressive display of world-power under Boniface VIII., but there
had been no material contribution to its frame since the death of
Innocent, and the thirteenth century had fostered the growth of the
influences which were destined to undo it. In the fourteenth century
came the demoralizing residence in Avignon and the Great Schism: in
the fifteenth century the renaissance of culture and development of
civic life, which enfeebled the Popes and strengthened their subjects,
were completed: in the sixteenth century Luther and Calvin smote the
colossus. Innocent III. is the last great maker of the Papacy.
The work of the eighteen Popes who occupied the throne between the
death of Gregory VII. and the election of Innocent might not ineptly
be described in a line: they sought, and failed, to wield the heavy
weapons of Hildebrand. In virtue of the falsified letters, canons,
charters, and chronicles which were now accepted throughout Europe,
they proclaimed that they had the disposal of earthly kingdoms no
less than of seats in heaven, and they thus brought on themselves
a century of strife in which only the stronger men could find much
time for strictly Pontifical duties. They were men of sober life and,
generally, high character, yet the very nature of their ideal involved
such struggles that the Papacy had to await a fortunate conjunction of
circumstances before the ideal could be realized. The conflict with
Henry IV. continued until, his two sons having been persuaded to rebel
against him and his second wife encouraged to besmirch his reputation,
before the assembled prelates of Christendom, with charges as foul as
they were feeble in evidence, he, in 1097, quitted Italy for ever. Then
Urban II., who was responsible for this gross travesty of spiritual
justice, cleared Rome by means of Norman swords and rallied Christendom
about him by a declaration of the First Crusade. But so tainted a
legacy of peace could not last. Henry V. proved more exacting than his
father, and another prolonged struggle absorbed the energy of the Popes
until the fifty years' war over investiture was settled by a compromise
at Worms in 1122.[237]
Bernard of Clairvaux, rather than the successive Popes, was the
spiritual master of Europe in the comparative peace after Worms.
During nearly the whole of the second half of the twelfth century the
Papacy was distracted by the incessant revolts of the Romans. The
streets, even the churches, of Rome were stained with blood, year after
year, and the Popes repeatedly fled. The rise of Frederic Barbarossa
complicated the struggle, and the Popes had little opportunity to
exercise the powers they had won, without thinking of any extension of
their claims. At last, in 1198, the Papacy once more fell to a man of
commanding personality and was lifted to the zenith of its power.
Lothario de'Conti di Segni was born about the year 1160. His father
was Count Trasimondo of Segni: his mother belonged to the noble
Roman family of the Scotti, which included several cardinals of the
anti-Imperialist school. After receiving an elementary education at
Rome, he was sent to Paris for theology, and to Bologna for law. The
scholastic movement was now stimulating Europe and creating great
schools; indeed Pope Alexander III. had, though not from cultural
motives, fostered the movement by favouring the activity of free
teachers. Profane letters were, however, still little cultivated.
Lothario took a degree in the liberal arts, but he was soon wholly
absorbed in theology and canon law; the correct and virile Latin of his
letters is very far from the classical models. Under the Pontificate of
his maternal uncle, Clement III., he returned to Rome a young man of
the most ascetic character and most finished ecclesiastical culture.
He was made a canon of St. Peter's, and, in his twenty-ninth year, a
cardinal of the Roman Church.
The Pontificate of Clement ended, apparently, the long struggle of
the Popes and the Romans. The Roman nobles were as turbulent as ever,
but one finds a more respectable element of dissension in the city
at this time. The democratic ideas of that brilliant and too little
appreciated thinker, Arnold of Brescia, had taken root in Rome, and
a Republic, with a Senate of fifty-six members, had been established
in the Capitol. Hadrian IV. had blighted this premature experiment
by an interdict in 1155, but the struggle continued and the Popes
lived little in the capital until the year 1188. Clement, a courtly
and diplomatic Roman, made peace with his countrymen, and damped the
democratic ardour by a shower of gold and of ecclesiastical favours.
The Papacy resumed the government of the city, and the nominal power
of the Senate was allowed to pass into the hands of one man, "the
Senator." Clement died in 1190, and, as his successor, Celestine III.,
was a member of the Orsini family, which was bitterly hostile to the
Scotti, there was no room in the Lateran for Lothario Conti. Nepotism
was now so far accepted in the Papal palace that we shall find Innocent
himself following the tradition. The leisure was fortunate in one
respect, as Lothario used it for the purpose of writing a book, _On
Contempt of the World_, which gives us a most interesting revelation
of his innermost thoughts at the time when he became Pope. The book
is a distillation of the extreme monastic views of the time; it is
full of fables, and it depicts man as the very vilest thing in a world
which was made solely for the disdain of the ascetic. It was from this
morbidly tinted sanctuary that Lothario Conti surveyed the life of his
time, which he was soon summoned to rule. In September, 1197, Henry
VI., who had duly incurred the imperial legacy of excommunication, died
and left his kingdom to his baby-boy Frederic: and on January 8, 1198,
Lothario Conti, in the prime of life and the most sombre stage of his
meditations, became Innocent III.
Although he occupied the Papal throne only eighteen years, we have more
than five thousand letters, or parts of letters, dispatched by him to
all parts of Christendom: more than five hundred of them were written
in the first year of his Pontificate. Their range stretches from
Ireland and Scandinavia to Cairo and Armenia. In that vast territory
nothing of importance happened in which he did not intervene; and
there was hardly a prince or baron whom he did not excommunicate, or
any leading country which he did not place under interdict. His ideal
was that of Gregory VII.: the Papal States of Europe--he wanted to add
nearer Asia--trembling under the Roman rod. Writing to the Emperor of
Constantinople he elaborated his famous conception of earthly empire as
the moon, shining faintly by light borrowed from the spiritual power.
The Papal theory had reached its culmination, and we may proceed at
once to attempt to compress the portentous activity of Innocent III.
into a few compartments.[238]
One naturally inquires first how this spiritual autocrat confronted
the democratic faction at Rome. At the outset he showed a little of
the accommodating temper which he always held in reserve behind his
profession of rigour. His attendants flung showers of coin on the
greedy people when he first passed between them, and, reluctantly,
and on the lowest known scale, he distributed the backsheesh with
which each incoming Pope had to win the smiles of every official in
the Palace and the city. There were murmurs, and they increased when
he proceeded to compel the Prefect (who was understood to represent
the Empire) and the Senator (who represented the Romans) to take
oaths of allegiance to himself. By this stroke he expelled the last
bit of reality out of the "free commune" of Rome, and cast off the
last trace of an imperial yoke. He abolished the Noble Guard and the
lay officials of the Palace: he deposed the judges appointed by the
Senator and appointed less corrupt men: he drove the money-changers
and merchants out of the Lateran courtyard, stamped on the parasites
who fed on foreign pilgrims, and drew up a strict tariff of fees for
the Papal services. He was by no means indifferent to money, as his
fighting policy demanded enormous sums. No Pope could be keener on
Peter's Pence, and no abbot or bishop dare approach him with a gift not
proportionate to his wealth. But it is almost superfluous to say that
he was a man of the most rigorous sentiment of justice, and, as long as
he lived, the more selfish kind of rapacity at Rome was repressed.
The nobles who led the democratic party, chiefly Giovanni Pierleone
and Giovanni Capocci, looked with concern on his tendency and, when
he put a Papal governor over the Maremma and the Sabina, instead of
the one appointed by the Senate, they pressed the Romans to see that
their privileges were being stolen. In 1200 Innocent extricated himself
from a difficult situation. Vitorchiano was threatened by Viterbo
and declared itself a Papal fief. As Viterbo also was part of the
patrimony, and the Romans hated it, Innocent was perplexed. The Romans
took the field in spite of him, and won; but, as he happened to be
saying mass at the time of the victory, it was ingeniously ascribed
to his prayers. In the following year, however, there was more serious
trouble. Two small provincial nobles took possession of some estates
on the Campagna, and, when Innocent ordered them to restore, they said
that they held them of the democratic leaders, Pierleone and Capocci.
There was an outcry, but Innocent sent his troops to lay waste the
properties of the two nobles in the grimmest mediæval manner, and, in
an eloquent speech at Rome, completely vanquished his critics. Then in
1202, during his customary summer absence, the feud of the Scotti and
the Orsini broke out with frightful violence, and in the following year
the antagonism to the Pope reached its height.
Innocent had, for his own protection, greatly enriched his brother
Ricardo, and Ricardo had purchased the mortgages on the estates of one
of the democrats, Oddo Poli. As far as we can see, Ricardo acted with
legal correctness, but Rome was soon aroused by the sight of Poli and
his friends coming naked to church, as a symbol of the "spoliation,"
and democratic rhetoric rose to white heat. There was a popular rising;
Ricardo's towering mansion was burned, and Innocent himself had to
fly to Ferentino (May, 1203). The Romans restored their Senate, and
swore to have no more of this Papal nepotism and despotism, but from
his retreat Innocent fostered the intestine quarrels of the victorious
people, and before long the city was in a state of murderous anarchy.
The two hundred mansions of its wealthier citizens were, and had been
for ages, real fortresses, and during the whole summer of 1203 their
castellated walls were lined with archers, and bands issued forth,
with all the engines of war, to assault and burn the fortress of some
neighbour. It still remains for some historian of the Papacy to
explain this chronic violence and vice in the centre of Christendom
during so many centuries. The trouble ended in the Pope resuming the
government of the city, and his rule was further disturbed only by one
of these popular revolts, in 1208.
We do not fully appreciate the strength of Innocent unless we realize
how, while his eyes wandered over the globe, Rome itself demanded so
much attention. But he was not merely concerned with its misconduct. He
organized the work of charity in the city and did something to promote
its commerce. He built a foundling hospital, trusting to reduce the
infanticide which he found so common at Rome, and was very generous
to the churches and the clergy. From his time the Popes began to use
more and more the Palace beside St. Peter's, which he enlarged and
fortified, and he spent large sums in adorning other churches and
enhancing the splendour of the worship. But these and the other Roman
reforms I have mentioned are the mere incidents of his domestic life,
so to say. His work was the ruling of the world, and assuredly we
must recognize a mind of high quality and prodigious energy when we
read the volumes of letters that poured from the Lateran during those
eighteen years, and imagine the vast crowds that came from every part
of the world to do homage, to ask counsel, and to report the minutest
circumstances of their abbeys or bishoprics or principalities.
Italy alone might have absorbed a weaker man during his earlier years.
Papal rule was acknowledged--in the manner we have seen--only in the
immediate neighbourhood of the city. Over the south and Sicily the
widow of Henry VI. ruled in the name of her child: in the north were
the leagues of free cities, and the isolated free cities, which had
won independence: and the whole country apart from these was falling
into the hands of the German generals whom Henry VI. had left there at
his death. Innocent, like all the Popes after Hadrian, believed in the
Donation of Constantine, to say nothing of the Donations of Pippin and
Charlemagne and Otto and Mathilda. Italy belonged almost entirely to
the Papacy, and must be recovered. Some historians hail Innocent as a
great apostle of the "Italia Una" ideal, and he sometimes presses on
particular towns "the interests of the whole of Italy." It is, however,
absurd to associate his feeling with the later ideal of Italian unity.
He cared for the unity of Italy only in the sense that the Pope was to
be its unique ruler. Those Germans--he scorns them--must be driven out.
Those free cities, always at war with each other, must be persuaded
that the Papal seal will be their best protection. Even that kingdom of
Naples and Sicily must somehow pass under Rome; in spite of the fact
that Innocent had solemnly accepted the guardianship of the young king.
It is commonly said that the German generals in Italy, like Markwald
of Anweiler, were ferocious adventurers eager only to carve little
principalities for themselves out of the helpless country. This is
the partisan version left us by Innocent's anonymous biographer. They
were, with German troops, guarding the Empire for the successor of
Henry VI.; they acknowledged Philip of Swabia; and Innocent was at a
later date "warned" by an influential group of German prelates and
nobles not to interfere with them. But Innocent had several advantages.
Henry VI. had treated Italy with barbarity, and numbers of cities
threw off the German yoke when he died; on the other hand, Markwald
and his colleagues were under standing sentence of excommunication
for occupying Papal fiefs like Tuscany. Innocent began by sending men
and money to the revolted cities, and inviting them to put themselves
under Rome's sacred banner. He travelled through central Italy in 1198,
and received the allegiance of many towns. Markwald, the chief enemy,
was driven to the south, and Innocent pressed the southerners to rise
against him.
Here the Pope had the familiar advantage of Papal policy--a woman on
the throne--and he made a use of it that cannot very well be defended.
Henry's Norman widow, Constance, was not unwilling to break her
connection with Germany, and she seems to have had little appreciation
of the political meaning of making Sicily a fief of the Roman See. She
was very ill and distracted, and no doubt felt that she was consulting
the interest of her son in putting him and the kingdom (of Sicily and
Naples) under Papal charge. She did indeed hesitate when Innocent
told her the price of his protection. Sicily was to sacrifice all the
privileges which William I. had wrung from the Papacy, to pay an annual
tribute to Rome, and to render feudal service whenever required.[239]
But Constance was forced to yield, and she died soon afterwards
(November 27, 1198), appointing Innocent the guardian of her son and
allotting him an annual fee of thirty thousand gold pieces.
Innocent accepted the guardianship of Frederic, and historians comment
severely on his next step. In spite of all his fiery letters to the
southern clergy and people--even to the Saracens[240]--inciting them to
resist the Germans, Markwald made considerable progress. Then there
came to Rome a certain French adventurer named Walter de Brienne, who
had married a daughter of Tancred of Sicily. Tancred had, on resigning
Sicily, retained Lecce and Tarentum, and Walter claimed these as his
wife's inheritance. Whether or no Innocent had actually promoted
the marriage and invited Walter to Italy[241] we cannot confidently
say, but it was assuredly dangerous to let such a man get a footing
in southern Italy; it was probable enough that he would eventually
claim the whole kingdom taken from Tancred. However Innocent blessed
and financed his enterprise, on the formal condition that he would
respect the rights of Frederic, and soon had a French troop waging more
effective war upon the Germans. The struggle ceased with the death of
Markwald in 1202, and of Walter in 1205, and Innocent then pressed a
design of marrying the young Frederic to Constanza of Aragon. For the
time Frederic's rights were respected, but there can be no doubt that
these early years spent amidst intrigue and treachery contributed to
the development of his anti-clerical spirit.
There was, in fact, a good deal of anti-clericalism growing in Italy.
The development of civic and communal life and the comparative
enlightenment which was spreading turned many critical eyes on the
Roman system. Heresy descended the Alps and found favour in the free
cities; even, at times, in Papal cities. I have described how Viterbo
was crushed by the Roman troops. Innocent intervened in its favour,
after its defeat, and he was then outraged to learn that Viterbo was,
like many other cities, appointing heretics (the Cathari) to high
places. He spent the summer of 1207 in Viterbo, and enforced very
stringent rules for the repression of heresy. These laws were extended
to all the Papal dominions, but we shall see the Pope's attitude
more clearly when we deal with the crusade against the Albigensians.
Innocent was not less emphatic in denouncing the incessant wars of
the rival cities, and his correspondence is largely occupied with his
endeavours to secure their feudal allegiance to Rome.
A graver problem, in the solution of which his character is often
obscured, was presented by the struggle of Ghibellines (or followers
of Philip of Swabia) and Guelphs (supporters of Otto of Brunswick)
for the imperial crown. Frederic, the son and heir of Henry, being
still a boy of tender years, his uncle Duke Philip of Swabia desired
to keep the crown securely in the Hohenstauffen family by wearing it
himself. Otto of Brunswick also made a fantastic claim to it, got
himself proclaimed Emperor at Cologne in 1198, and sought the support
of the Pope. Innocent undoubtedly favoured from the start the baseless
claim of Otto. The Papacy had come to regard the Hohenstauffens
almost as hereditary foes, and Philip actually lay under sentence of
excommunication for holding the territory bequeathed by Mathilda to the
Papacy; while Otto flattered the Pope by professions of loyalty and
docility. But Philip had the better prospect, if there was an appeal
to the sword, and Innocent refused for some years to commit himself.
He summoned Philip to surrender the Italian prisoners and the Papal
provinces taken by Henry, and sent the Bishop of Sutri to absolve him
if he complied. To his extreme annoyance the not very clear-headed
Bishop gave Philip an unconditional absolution--for which Innocent
promptly imprisoned the Bishop for life in a monastery--and thus
surrendered the Pope's chance of profiting by the situation.
The rivals appealed to the sword, and Innocent bitterly complained that
Philip did not ask his arbitration.[242] He alone, he declared to the
princes and prelates of Germany, was the judge of such high causes:
to which the princes and prelates replied, in very firm and dignified
language, that they would have no Papal interference in the secular
concerns of Germany.[243] As the war proceeded, Innocent made it clear
that he favoured Otto. He warned the German prelates not to choose
an Emperor on whom he could not bestow the crown, and in a letter to
the Eastern Emperor he afterwards boasted that he alone kept Philip
from the throne. But the war went in favour of Philip, and even when,
in 1200, both men sent representatives to Rome, Innocent would not
commit himself to more than an eloquent proof that priests were exalted
above kings.[244] At the beginning of the following year, however, he
declared openly for Otto. He sent Cardinal Pierleone to Germany with
the Bull _Interest Apostolicæ Sedis_, in which he drew up a violent
and unjust indictment of Philip and awarded the crown to the loyal
and virtuous Otto. The Bull is painfully casuistic, and would have
been better if it had stopped at the bold declaration that the Papacy
had created the Empire and could bestow it according to its pleasure.
While, for instance, it charges Philip with treachery to the interests
of his young nephew, it exonerates all others from the oath of fidelity
to Henry's son on the ground that an oath to an unbaptized infant was
invalid.[245] The imperial crown was, in plain terms, allotted in the
interests of the Church, in defiance of the wishes of the majority of
the German nation. Otto hastened to swear that he would defend the
Papal possessions (including Sicily), and was proclaimed by a Papal
Legate in Cologne cathedral on July 3, 1201.
Innocent now sent out a flood of letters on behalf of his candidate,
but the result was irritating. Philip of France roughly refused to
recognize Otto; and a letter signed by two German archbishops, ten
bishops, and other clerics and nobles, sternly rebuked the Pope for
his "audacity" in meddling with things which did not concern him.[246]
Innocent's Legates vainly scattered threats of excommunication in
Germany. Hardly a single prelate recognized Otto, and, after seven
years of the most brutal civil warfare, he was driven out of the
country. We are not impressed by the Pope's feverish protests that he
was not responsible for this desolation. In 1208, however, Philip, who
had been reconciled with Rome in the previous year, was assassinated,
and Otto, with Innocent's approval, mounted the throne. To the intense
indignation of the Pope, the new Emperor at once cast his oaths of
fidelity to the wind and told Innocent to confine himself to spiritual
matters. He annexed Tuscany and Spoleto, in spite of all the Pope's
entreaties and threats, and was about to march against Naples and
Apulia when Innocent launched against him a sentence of excommunication
and deposition. Otto was, for the time, an excellent ruler: he had
been educated in the English ideas of government. But he had refused
to be subservient to the clergy, and the German prelates now summoned
Frederic from Sicily. Innocent approved the election of Frederic as
easily as he had approved that of Philip and of Otto, but he did not
live to see how that Emperor in turn defied the Papacy and scorned its
political pretensions.[247]
Next in interest and importance were Innocent's relations with
England. With Richard the Lion-Heart the Pope maintained a friendly
correspondence, nor did he annoy the English prelates by any
inconvenient censure of the condition of the English Church. In 1199
John Lackland succeeded his brother, and Innocent was even more
indulgent to that barbarous and unscrupulous monarch. Into the death
of Prince Arthur he made no indiscreet inquiry; he confirmed the
dissolution of John's marriage, and, for his shameful theft of the love
of the betrothed of the Count de la Marche, imposed on him only the
light and useful penance of a general confession and the equipment of a
hundred knights for Palestinian service. During the war which followed
he made earnest efforts to mediate, though even these were at times
marred by his temporizing policy and his determination not to alienate
the kings. When the bishops of Normandy, after the capture of that
province by Philip, asked him how they were to adjust their allegiance,
he weakly replied that Philip seemed to rely on some claim which he
could not understand and they must judge for themselves.[248] At length
a famous quarrel about the archbishopric of Canterbury drew him into a
stern and triumphant conflict with John.
The Archbishop, a worldly-minded courtier of the familiar type, died in
1205, and the Canterbury monks, who claimed the right of nomination,
met hastily, by night, without awaiting the royal license to proceed to
an election, and nominated their sub-prior Reginald. They sent Reginald
at once to Rome, enjoining on him the strictest secrecy until he was
consecrated, but the monk made a parade of his high condition as soon
as he reached the continent and there was great indignation in England.
The Chapter, which disputed the arrogant claim of the monks, elected
the Bishop of Norwich, and many of the monks, alarmed at their action
or disgusted with their sub-prior, joined in the election. Sixteen
monks accompanied the second deputation to Rome, and they supported the
declaration of the Court and the Church that Reginald's election was
invalid. As, however, the Bishop of Norwich was one of the indulgent
prelates, Innocent casuistically annulled both elections and imposed
Stephen Langton on the English. John furiously protested that the Pope
had insulted his state and threatened to withdraw the English Church
from his jurisdiction; shrewdly reminding the Pope that he received
more money from England than from any other country.
John seems to have misunderstood the earlier complaisance of the Pope.
Innocent was not the man to yield to a threat of financial loss, and
he at once consecrated Langton and laid England under an interdict.
For some years the affrighted people saw the doors of their churches
closed against them and imagined the jaws of a mediæval hell gaping
wide for their souls. There was no Christian marriage for their sons
and daughters, no Christian burial for their aged; and only to dying
persons could the consoling sacrament be administered. In his fury
John drove priests and prelates out of his kingdom, but his cruel
and extortionate government had lost him the compensating strength
of the affection of his people. In 1211 he was forced to seek terms,
and a Papal Legate reached England. Between the arrogance of Legate
Pandolpho and the passion of the King the negotiation failed, and
John was deposed by the Pope. England, Rome repeated, had been a fief
of the Apostolic See since William the Conqueror; it was now open to
any Christian monarch to invade and possess it. This was a direct
invitation to Philip of France to renew those horrors of warfare
which Innocent had so eloquently denounced,[249] and, to the intense
mortification of the French King, John abjectly submitted (1213). He
even handed to the proud Legate a solemn declaration that England
and Ireland were fiefs of the Apostolic See, and that he would pay
a thousand marks a year for vassalage. The clergy were recalled and
compensated, the interdict was raised, and Legate Pandolpho stalked the
land with the insufferable air of a conqueror.
If, however, this conflict gives an honourable prominence to the
sterner qualities of Innocent, its sequel no less illustrates the
weakness which seemed inseparable from the Papal policy, even when it
was embodied in a lofty character. Pandolpho behaved so wantonly in
resettling the clergy that he presently fell foul of the high-minded
Langton: John behaved with a ferocity which drove nobles and commoners
to the step of rebellion. Yet Innocent maintained his mischievous
Legate against Langton, and laid a Papal malediction on the just
aspirations of the people. He rebuked the barons for their "nefarious
presumption" in taking arms against a vassal of the Roman See; he
denounced Magna Charta as a devil-inspired document, and forbade "his
vassal" to accede to its unjust demands. He excommunicated the barons
when they refused to lay down their arms, and suspended Langton when
that prelate refused, on the ground that it was dictated by false
representations, to promulgate his sentence. When the barons offered
the crown to Louis, son of Philip of France, he issued an anathema
against Louis; and in 1216 he issued a sentence of excommunication
against Philip himself for encouraging his son. He died before his
sombre use of his spiritual weapons, in a carnal cause, was completed.
He had, within ten years, raised Papal power in England to its supreme
height and then dealt it a blow from which it would never recover. It
is futile to plead that he was ill informed on the situation. He knew
John, and he knew Langton; he ought to have known Pandolpho. In point
of fact, there is no reason to think that he was radically misinformed.
His whole action is plainly inspired by the interest, as he conceived
it, of the Papacy.[250]
I must dismiss very briefly his relations with other Christian
countries. Philip of France had, like John of England, discarded his
wife and married a woman he loved. But the Papal microscope refused,
in his case, to discover the remote affinity which, Philip said, made
his first marriage void, and an interdict was laid on his kingdom. The
terrified priests and people tore Philip from the arms of Agnes de
Meran, the mother of three of his children, and forced him to submit.
Only under the later pressure of his conflicts with Otto and John did
Innocent discover that there was sufficient _prima facie_ evidence
to spend several years in negotiation about a divorce, and, by an
extraordinary use of his high powers, he declared the children of Agnes
legitimate.
In Spain and Portugal, Innocent found irregular marriages almost as
numerous as regular, and his interventions show the same unedifying
mixture of priestly rigour and political compromise. Sacerdotal
legislation had by this time surrounded marriage with a portentous
series of obstacles--forbidden degrees of spiritual and carnal
affinity--which sacerdotal power alone could remove, yet the isolated
princes of the Peninsula were compelled to marry constantly into each
other's families and did not always ask the costly blessing of the
Papacy. That this legislation did not improve the sex-morals of Europe,
which were at least no better than they had been in pagan times, is
well known. Spain was particularly lax, having contracted the gaiety of
neighbouring Provence, and her kings may have felt that where unwedded
love was so genially tolerated, these academic restraints on wedded
love might be disregarded.
Innocent placed the kingdoms of Leon and Castile under an interdict
because the King of Leon had married his cousin, Berengaria of Castile,
and, when the court of Leon ignored his censures, he predicted that
there would be a horrible issue of the unhallowed union. Its first
fruit was St. Ferdinand; but Berengaria nervously retired after a
few years and left the King to bear his excommunication with Spanish
dignity. The King of Castile soon obtained the removal of the
interdict, on the ground that it favoured the growth of heresy, but
he was then threatened with excommunication because he permitted the
Jews to become rich while the Church was poor. Pedro of Aragon was more
fortunate. In the course of a journey to Rome he married the wife of
the Count de Comminges, and the Pope at once accepted her assurance
that the Count had two wives living when he married her, and blessed
the union. Pedro, it should be added, swore fealty and an annual
subsidy of two hundred gold pieces to the Pope. The King of Navarre
incurred an interdict for allying himself with the Moors. All that one
can seriously put to the credit of Innocent is that he greatly aided
the unification of Spain by spurring its kings to a common crusade
against the Moors; if we may assume that the crusade favoured the
progress of civilization in the country. Sancho of Portugal also felt,
and disdained, the touch of the Papal whip. When Innocent complained of
his oppression of the clergy, he threatened--in a letter which Innocent
describes as the most insolent ever written to a Pope--to strip his
corrupt priests of all their wealth. Innocent at once temporized, but a
dangerous illness and fit of repentance soon put Sancho and the kingdom
of Portugal at his feet. At his death Sancho left the kingdom wholly
subject to Rome and the clergy, though it was not many years before the
quarrels of his children again drew upon it the spiritual blight of an
interdict.
It would be tedious to describe in detail all the similar interventions
of the Pope in other countries. He refused to let Marie of Brabant
marry the Emperor Otto, and refused to dissolve the marriage of the
King of Bohemia; indeed, he sternly rebuked the King of Bohemia for
receiving his crown at the hands of Philip of Swabia. In Hungary he
scolded Prince Endre for rebelling against his brother, and he raised
Bulgaria to the rank of a kingdom, on condition that it recognized
Roman supremacy. He claimed, in a word, to be the king of kings, the
temporal as well as religious master of Europe. But we shall more
clearly appreciate the qualities of his character and shades of his
standard of action if we examine more fully his connection with the
Fourth Crusade and the crusade against heresy.
Tripoli, Antioch, and a few small Palestinian towns were all that
remained of the European conquests from the Saracen, and Innocent's
constant correspondence with the Christian prelates who lingered in the
East made him eager, from the beginning of his Pontificate, to inspire
Europe to make one more grand attempt to rescue the holy places. For
several years he sought, by letters and Legates, to fire the Christian
princes, to divert the swords of France and England to the breast of
the Mohammedan, and to melt the cold calculations of Venice. But the
memory of the last colossal failure--of all the blood and treasure
that had been expended on the stubborn task--was too fresh in Europe.
In vain he promised, to all who took the cross, a sure entry into
Paradise, and hinted not obscurely at the damnation which awaited
those who refused. Thin bands of zealots responded to the call, and a
larger multitude were induced to take the cross by Innocent's princely
declaration that the earthly debts of all who joined the Crusade would
be cancelled, and the Jews would be forced to forswear their legitimate
interest. The knights of Europe, to his fiery indignation, still wasted
their spears on each other, or continued the more pleasant pastimes of
the chase and the tournament. Innocent, in a flood of eloquent letters,
taxed the clergy, confiscated the funds of erratic monks, and forbade
the lay nobles to wear costly furs or eat costly dinners or indulge in
tournaments. There were murmurs that the Christians of the East needed
no aid, since they were on excellent terms with the Saracens, as the
Pope was painfully aware; and that the only sure effect of Crusades
was to increase the power and the wealth of the Papacy which organized
them. Even the clergy and the monks refused the subsidies he demanded,
and he was compelled to sanction a practice which would in time prove
the most terrible and destructive abuse of the mediæval Papacy: the
penance imposed on confessing sinners was to take the form of a
money-contribution. To this day the indulgences which are sold in Spain
trace their origin to the Crusades, as the printed _bula_ declares.
At length, in the year 1200, Baldwin of Flanders and a few bishops and
nobles formed the nucleus of a Crusade, and the astute Venetians were
invited to provide for the transport of an army. In the spring of 1202
the streams of soldiers and priests converged upon Venice, and an army
of 23,000 assembled for the fourth assault on the Saracens. But the
Pope's joy was soon overcast, and the Crusade proved to be the second
most lamentable occurrence of his Pontificate.
When the army assembled near Venice, it was discovered that neither
the soldiers nor the Pope had money enough to pay their passage to
the East. Venice had by that time fully developed its hard commercial
spirit, and its famous blind Doge proposed to remit the debt if
the Crusaders would, on their way, retake Zara (in Dalmatia) from
the Hungarians for the Venetians. Innocent made the most violent
opposition, but the Venetians, disdaining his threats, compelled the
impoverished soldiers to consent, and on October 8th they set sail,
under threat of excommunication, to begin their Crusade by the shedding
of Christian blood. They took Zara, and incurred excommunication; but
Innocent could not reconcile himself to the complete failure of his
grand plan. He withdrew the censures they had so flagrantly defied, and
admitted, or stated, that they had acted under "a sort of necessity."
They were to make some vague "satisfaction" for their misdeed, and
push on, with clean souls, to the East. The Venetians alone were
not relieved of the censure, but, though knights of a more tender
conscience were painfully perplexed to find themselves in the same
galleys with excommunicated men, the Venetians showed no concern. They
had another check in reserve for the Pope.
Before they left Italy, Alexis Comnenus had arrived from Constantinople
to ask their aid in restoring his father to the throne he had just
lost, and they were disposed to assist him. One could not, of course,
expect the Pope to show the same concern for the blood of schismatics
as for the blood of the Hungarians, yet his consent to this fatal and
lamentable enterprise is a stain on his record. The sordid squabble of
the Comneni family did not deserve the sacrifice of a single knight,
and the part of Isaac Comnenus was espoused by the Crusaders and the
Pope only because the young Alexis promised money and provisions to the
troops and the subjection of the Greek Church to the Lateran. The issue
is well known. The Crusaders took Constantinople, sacked the city, and
desecrated the churches with a brutality that must have shocked the
Saracens; and they then settled down to divide its territory between
themselves and the Venetians. The letters which Innocent sent, as
the successive news arrived, are painful reading. He must blame their
excesses, he says at first, but, after all, these outrages had been
merited by the sins of the Greeks; let the Crusaders inform him that
the submission of the Greek Church has been secured. At last they send
him, for his confirmation, a treaty from which he learns that they
have arranged all the affairs, spiritual as well as secular, of the
new Empire without consulting him, and he writes more warmly. To the
outrage they have committed he is still almost insensible; it is their
audacity in ruling the new Church--in permitting the hated Venetians to
select a Patriarch--which excites his anger.
The last phase of the enterprise caused him grave distress. Instead of
proceeding to the East, the Latins set up an Empire and several petty
princedoms, and the Greeks disdainfully watched their quarrels and
awaited their own opportunity. Monks and priests were summoned from
France, but the people were secretly wedded to their old religion and
the new Church was a hollow sham. For years Innocent had to maintain
a fretful correspondence, settling quarrels about jurisdiction
and property, and scolding his Crusaders for their oppression and
spoliation of the clergy. But it is needless to recount all the details
of that historic failure. The weariness of Innocent may be appreciated
from the fact that in 1213 he naïvely wrote to the Khalipha himself,
beseeching him "in all humility" to restore to the Christians the land
which they had not the courage or the interest to win by the sword.
The crusade against the Albigensians was more successful, and even
more lamentable, and I need do no more here than elucidate Innocent's
relation to that monstrous crime. The degradation of morals and of
religious practice, the corruption of the clergy, and the stupendous
claims of the Papacy, had already provoked in Europe the beginnings
of protest. A somewhat modified form of Christianity's old rival,
Manichæism, had lingered in the East and had in time mingled with the
austere Christianity of the Pauline Epistles. From the Eastern Empire
it had spread to Bulgaria, and from there, in the thirteenth century,
it passed rapidly over Europe, assimilating all the anti-clerical and
anti-ritualist feeling which the corruption of the time inspired. In
one or other form it obtained considerable strength in Switzerland,
Piedmont, and the south of France, and it was fast gathering recruits
in Italy and Spain. The light-living princes of Languedoc had little
inclination to persecute; nor would they think that, if one might
sing ribald contempt of the ecclesiastical system in the tavern and
the monastery, this disdain was less respectable in the mouths of a
generally sincere and upright body of fanatics.
In the first year of his Pontificate Innocent sent two Cistercian
monks, Guy and Renier, to convert the heretics and incite the civil
and religious authorities to enforce the law. Of corporal persecution
he assuredly did not dream at that time, and indeed his letters made
it clear that he preferred persuasion to coercion of any kind. The
monks failed either to convert the heretics or to induce the bishops
and princes of the south of France to persecute (by confiscation and
exile), and they were replaced by the more vigorous monk-legates,
Pierre de Castelnau and Raoul, to whom the resolute Abbot Arnold of
Citeaux was afterwards added. Their powers set aside all ordinary
episcopal jurisdiction, and, in pursuance of their policy of displacing
lax and reluctant prelates, they put the fanatical Foulques of
Marseilles in the bishopric of Toulouse. For eight years these
energetic apostles worked almost in vain among the heretics. Apparently
at the suggestion of St. Dominic, who was just entering the history of
Europe, the Pope directed them to raise a corps of Cistercian monks who
should live and preach on the model of the coming mendicant friars,
but even this device made little impression on the heretics or the
light-living Catholics. Arnold and Foulques, in particular, became
desperate, and the lamentable policy of persecution began to grow in
their minds and that of the Pope.
The principle of persecution had, as we saw, been established in the
Lateran centuries before, and the only thing that restrained Innocent
from applying it, in its bloodless form, was the refusal of the secular
rulers to co-operate. Raymond of Toulouse was too healthily Epicurean
to favour either the sombre creed of the heretics or the more sombre
creed of the persecutor. Apologetic writers speak with horror of the
number of his wives and fair friends, but we do not find that his
conduct in this regard, or the similar conduct of other princes and
prelates, attracted the attention of the Pope. When, however, he
slighted a sentence of excommunication and still refused to persecute
his excellent but unorthodox subjects, he received a withering
letter.[251] "Who does he think he is?" the Pope asks scornfully,
to disobey one before whom the greatest monarchs of the earth bow.
Let him cease to "feed on corpses like a vulture"--to break a lance
with his neighbours--and obey the Legates, or the Pope will invite a
more powerful prince to displace him. As early as November 17, 1207,
Innocent bade the King of France, the Duke of Burgundy, and other
nobles, prepare for an expedition to Toulouse; and the privileges of
Crusaders were promised to all who joined it.
Raymond was more moved by the political threat than by the spiritual
censures, but there was sullen anger amongst his followers, and on
January 15, 1208, the Legate Pierre de Castelnau was assassinated.
There is not a tittle of evidence to incriminate Raymond, and it is in
the highest degree improbable that he would thus open the gates to his
greedy neighbours, but Innocent chose to believe that he had directed
the murder. Without trial, he declared that Raymond had forfeited the
allegiance of his subjects, and his dominions might be seized by any
Christian prince. He spurred Philip of France--who must have been
flattered to find himself now described as "exalted amongst all others
by God"--to the attack.[252] He addressed a fiery summons to "all
the nobles and people of France" to "avenge this terrible insult to
God."[253] Philip wanted Toulouse, but he overreached himself in making
terms and he dreaded England. There were, however, plenty of nobles
willing to lead their men to the plunder of prosperous Provence, and
the clergy had become seriously alarmed at the spread of the heresy in
France. A vast army, joyous at the rich prospect of loot, converged
upon the southern State. Innocent III. knew better than we know the
forces he had set in motion. The end sanctified the means.
The next phase was pitiful: the issue is one of the most horrible pages
of mediæval history. Raymond sent representatives to Rome to offer
submission, and the Pope and his Legates were embarrassed and behaved
abominably. When Raymond justly complained of the bitterness of Arnold
of Citeaux, the Pope sent a peaceful notary from the Lateran; giving
the man secret instructions to take no step without the directions
of Arnold, who was to be in the background, and writing to Arnold
that this Legate Milo is to be only "the bait to conceal the hook of
thy sagacity." Arnold, meanwhile, went to organize the crusade, for
they intended to impose on Raymond terms which seemed impossible. The
helpless Raymond licked the dust: he was stripped and scourged, he had
to surrender seven of his chief castles as hostages, and he was forced
to promise to lead the troops against his own subjects. Innocent sank
deeper into his awful policy. In an amazing letter to his Legates[254]
he reminded them of the words of Paul (II. Corinthians, xii., 16);
"Being crafty, I caught you with guile." They were to affect to regard
the repentance of Raymond as sincere, and, "deceiving him by prudent
dissimulation, pass to the extirpation of the other heretics." In
other words, they were to crush Raymond's chief nobles and then, if
he winced, crush him. Raymond did not wince, yet the army, with Abbot
Arnold as Captain General, moved southward to that historic butchery of
the Albigensians.
The modern plea that Innocent could not arrest the avalanche is as
wanton as the idea that he was moved by "social considerations." A
sentence of excommunication, promulgated by Arnold of Citeaux, would
have reduced the army to impotent proportions. Innocent would not
disappoint Arnold and Foulques, and those who had responded to his
summons; and he felt more sure of success this way. After the first two
months of butchery and seizure of cities, he sent his blessing to the
ambitious de Montfort. He was, however, superior to his Legates. The
ferocious Arnold made every effort to goad Raymond to rebellion, and at
last excommunicated him again on the plea that he had not fulfilled his
promises. Innocent tried--rather tamely--to restrain Arnold, refused to
confiscate Raymond's castles (as Arnold demanded) until he had a just
trial, and received him courteously at Rome. At last, utterly revolted
by the baseness of the Legates, Raymond winced. He was denounced to
Rome, was confronted with terms which no man with a spark of honour
could accept, and, when he refused, was excommunicated: the Pope
confirming the sentence. Raymond's dominions were transferred to "the
Blessed Peter," and de Montfort was to levy an annual tax--on which
Innocent is painfully insistent--for the Papacy.
Two years butchery of men, women, and children had not yet broken the
spirit of the Albigensians, and at the beginning of 1213, the Legates
and Simon were dismayed to hear from Innocent that the crusade was
over, and the troops had better proceed against the Saracens; that
Raymond had not yet been legally convicted of heresy and murder, and
had not therefore forfeited his fief; that, in any case, Raymond's
sons, rather than Simon de Montfort, were his natural successors. Two
Bulls (January 17 and 18, 1213) and four letters in quick succession
apprised the miserable group that Innocent--largely owing to the
intervention of Pedro of Aragon--at length appreciated their misconduct
or had the courage to consult his better feelings. Unhappily, his
courage did not last long. They stormed Rome with their remonstrances,
and Innocent yielded. As, moreover, the King of Aragon failed in
his attempt to reduce them by arms, the cause of Raymond was utterly
lost and his territory was made over to Rome. To the end Innocent
wavered between his more humane feeling and the policy he had so
long countenanced. He refused to confirm the appointment of Simon as
sovereign (under Rome) of the whole territory, and when Arnold (who was
now Archbishop of Narbonne) quarrelled with Simon over the title of
Duke of Narbonne, he supported Arnold. At the Lateran Council, which
was to decide the issue, he made a plea for leniency to Raymond and
justice to his heirs, but he yielded to the truculent priests, and the
unhappy prince was cast aside with an annual pension of four hundred
marks. Innocent did not live to see the arrogant Arnold excommunicate
de Montfort, and the two Raymonds return and win back much of their
estate.
_Causa causæ est causa causati_, the schoolmen used to say. The Pope
who maintained Arnold of Citeaux, Foulques of Marseilles, and Simon de
Montfort in their positions when their characters were fully revealed,
and the whole of Europe knew the atrocities they committed, bears the
guilt of the massacre of the Albigensians.
The fourth Lateran Council was his last work, and one of the most
important Councils of the Middle Ages. He summoned all the bishops,
abbots, and priors of Christendom to come, on November 1, 1215, to
discuss the reform of the Church, the suppression of heresy, and the
recovery of Palestine. A vast audience listened to his opening sermon
on November 11th, and for nineteen days they framed laws against
heretics, Jews, and schismatics: vainly thundered against the vice,
sensuality, and rapacity of the clergy: reduced the forbidden degrees
of kindred (in marriage) to four--since there were only four humours in
the body: imposed on all Christians a duty of confessing at least once
a year: and fixed the next Crusade for June 1, 1216. But Innocent, if
he marked with pride the contrast of that gorgeous assemblage to the
little group of Christians who had met in an inn in the Transtiberina
a thousand years earlier, cannot have been content. Not a single
Greek had responded to his summons: grave murmurs at his hard policy
and despotic action arose in the Council itself: half the prelates,
at least, were unfit to impose reforming measures on their priests:
and the ghastly mockery of his last Crusade gave little hope for the
future. He did not even appreciate the new forces for good which were
rising. He had coldly received, if not actually discouraged, Dominic
and Francis. His ideal was power: of love he knew nothing. He flung
himself ardently into the preparation for the new war on the Saracens,
and died, on June 16, 1216, with the call to arms on his lips. He
sacrificed himself nobly in the interest of his high ideal, and was one
of the greatest makers of the Papacy, but he sacrificed also much that
men inalienably prize, and he began the unmaking of the Papacy.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 237: The clergy were to be free to elect their bishop,
though in Germany the election had to take place in the presence of
the Emperor or his representatives; this was a virtual retention of
the imperial veto. Investiture with ring and crozier was replaced by a
touch with the royal sceptre.]
[Footnote 238: Fortunately, his work is little complicated by dispute,
since his letters are so abundant. There is a contemporary life or
panegyric (_Gesta Innocentii Tertii_), but it must be read with
caution. Of modern biographies the great work of Achille Luchaire (6
vols., 1904-8) has superseded all others; though, as it scarcely ever
indicates its authorities, the less discriminating work of Hurter
is still useful. In English there is a good, but rather affected,
sketch by C.H.C. Pirie-Gordon, _Innocent the Great_ (1907). Milman is
particularly good on Innocent III.]
[Footnote 239: _Ep._, i., 410.]
[Footnote 240: ii., 226.]
[Footnote 241: This is affirmed in the contemporary _Chronique d'Ernoul
et de Bernard le Trésorier_, ch. xxx.]
[Footnote 242: _Ep._, ii., in the Register, "On the Affairs of the
Empire": Migne, col. ccxvi.]
[Footnote 243: _Ep._, xiv.]
[Footnote 244: Xviii.]
[Footnote 245: The _Deliberatio_, or essential part of the Bull, is
given in Migne's "Register of Imperial Concerns," no. xxix. See also
the decretal _Venerabilem Fratrem_, no. lxii.]
[Footnote 246: Lxi.]
[Footnote 247: See R. Schwemer, _Innocenz III. und die Deutsche Kirche
während des Thronstreites von 1198-1208_ (1882), and E. Englemann,
_Phillip von Schwaben und Innocenz III._ (1896).]
[Footnote 248: _Ep._, viii., 7.]
[Footnote 249: _Ep._, vi., 163.]
[Footnote 250: See E. Gütschow, _Innocenz III. und England_ (1904).]
[Footnote 251: X., 69.]
[Footnote 252: Xi., 28.]
[Footnote 253: Xi., 29.]
[Footnote 254: Xi., 232.]
CHAPTER X
JOHN XXII.: THE COURT AT AVIGNON
In maintaining that the power of the Papacy waned after the Pontificate
of Innocent III., I do not mean that there was such visible decay as
even the most acute contemporary observer might have detected. The
thirteenth century must have seemed to the statesmen of the time to
strengthen the Papacy. The Dominican and Franciscan friars, quickly
recognized by Innocent's successors, impressed on Europe the duty of
implicit obedience. The great canonists began to make an imposing
body of law out of the decrees of the Popes. Art developed in close
association with religious sentiment. The hereditary feud with the
Hohenstauffens ended, fifty years after the death of Innocent, with
the complete overthrow of the son and grandson of Frederic II. Yet
most historians now recognize that the thirteenth century was, for the
Papacy, a period of slow and subtle decay. The mighty struggle with
Frederic, Manfred, and Conradin exhausted the high-minded, but not
heroic, successors of Innocent, and it ended only when, by summoning
Philip of Anjou, they substituted French for German predominance and
inaugurated another exacting period of conflict. The alternative was a
period of comparative impotence and flabby parasitism. Into this the
Papacy passed; and, unfortunately for it, the degeneration occurred
just when the eyes of Europe were growing sharper. It was the date of
the early renaissance of culture, inspired by the Moors: it was a rich
period of civic development and prosperity: it was the time when castes
of keen-eyed lay lawyers and scholars were growing. Arms were yielding
to togas in the work of restricting the growth of the Papacy.
Boniface VIII. (1294-1303) is the last great representative of the
Papal ideal in its earlier and more austere mediæval form. His Bull
_Clericis laicos_ (1296) which declared all clerical and monastic
property in the world to be under his protection and sternly bade
secular rulers respect it, was one of the last Olympic fulminations;
and it was defeated by England and France. Then, in 1300, he declared
the Jubilee; and some historians see in that prostration of Christendom
at the feet of the Papacy the last notable expression of its
world-power. Men said at the time--I am not pressing it as fact--that
Boniface was so exalted by the spectacle that he put on the imperial
crown and sandals. No one questions that the Papacy decayed from that
year. Under the banner of Papal absolutism Boniface made war on the
great Ghibelline family of the Colonnas, and on Philip the Fair and his
lawyers, and he ignominiously fell. The blameless and gentle Dominican,
Benedict XI., who succeeded him, could not sustain for more than a
few months the struggle he had inherited, and the Gascon Clement V.
then inaugurated what has been too forcibly called "the Babylonian
Captivity."
After a secret compact with Philip, after a complete sacrifice of
his ideals, and after the distribution of much French gold among
the cardinals, he obtained the tiara (1305). In 1309 he settled at
Avignon, basely surrendered the Templars (after an appalling travesty
of justice) to the cupidity of the King, and settled down, in the
company of his sister and niece and dear friend the Countess of
Talleyrand-Périgord, to a life of sensuous luxury and the accumulation
of wealth. He died on March 12, 1314, leaving 1,078,800 florins (about
£500,000) nearly the whole of which went to his family and friends, and
the cardinals gathered anxiously to choose his successor.
Clement had died near Carpentras, about fifteen miles from Avignon, and
the cardinals met in the episcopal palace of that town. The austere
Gregory X. had decreed in 1274 that the cardinal electors should be
walled into their chamber (or Conclave) until they had chosen a Pope,
and the twenty-three princes of the Church prepared for a desperate
encounter in their isolated quarters. There were six Italians, eager to
tell a pitiful story of the ruin of Rome and the patrimonies because of
the absence of the Pope from Italy. But there were nine Gascons--three
of them nephews of Clement, all creatures of Clement--and, as two
of the eight French cardinals supported the Gascons, they made a
formidable majority and demanded an Avignon Pope: in fact, a Gascon
Pope. Day followed day in angry discussion, and the cries of the
infuriated followers of the Gascon cardinals without grew louder and
louder. At last, on July 23d, there came a thundering on the doors, and
the terrified cardinals, breaking through the wall, fled from the town
and dispersed. For two years, to the grave scandal of Christendom, they
refused to agree on a place of meeting, until at last Philip of Valois
enticed them to Lyons, entrapped them into a monastery, and told them
that they were prisoners until they made a Pope.
Under these auspices Jacques de Cahors, Cardinal of Porto, became John
XXII. He was a little, dry, bilious old man of seventy-two: but an able
lawyer and administrator, and a man of wonderful vigour for his age.
In his case the more careful research of modern times and the opening
of the Vatican Archives have tended to give him, in some respects, a
more honourable position in history than he had hitherto occupied. The
reader will hardly find him morally and spiritually attractive, but he
had a remarkable and powerful personality, and he achieved more than
has been supposed. His "Register" in the Vatican Archives contains
65,000 letters. Most of these are very brief notes written by the Papal
clerks, but there are many of interest and they enable us at times to
correct the anecdotists of his age. He had virulent enemies, and they
must be read with reserve.[255]
Jacques d'Euse, of Cahors, is said by unfriendly writers of the time
to have been the son of a cobbler (or, according to others, a tailor).
As he had relatives in good positions, and received a good schooling,
this is probably a legend. But his early life is obscure. He studied
under the Dominicans of Cahors, and then attended the lectures at
Montpellier and at Paris. The story of Ferretti di Vicenza, that he
went with a trading uncle to Naples and became tutor to the sons of
Charles II., does not harmonize with these facts, and we must therefore
reject the further charge that he obtained his bishopric by forging a
letter in the name of Charles. He seems rather to have taught civil law
for a long period at Cahors, and then at Toulouse, where he earned the
friendship of the Bishop, St. Louis, and was thus brought to the notice
and favour of the Bishop's father, the King of Naples. Charles secured
the bishopric of Fréjus for him in 1300, and made him his Chancellor in
1307. When Charles died, his son Robert continued the patronage and got
for him the bishopric of Avignon. Clement V. found him a useful man and
pliant lawyer. It was he who did the most accommodating research for
Clement in the suppression of the Templars, and he was rewarded with a
red hat in 1312. He was a sober man, liking good solid fare and regular
ways, and kept his energy and ambition in his eighth decade of life.
Robert of Naples pressed his candidature for the Papacy when Clement
died, and the Gascons adopted him. He won the vote of Cardinal
Orsini--this statement of his critics is confirmed by later events--by
professing a most determined intention to transfer the Papacy to Rome.
The anecdotists say that he swore never to mount a horse until he was
established at the Lateran; and, after a gorgeous coronation-ceremony
at Lyons on September 5th, he at once proceeded _by boat_ to Avignon.
The Italian cardinals left him in disgust, and he promptly promoted
ten new cardinals, of whom nine were French (and three, including
his nephew, from Cahors). Of his later seventeen cardinals, thirteen
were French, three Italian, and one Spanish. The Papacy was fixed at
Avignon.
The little town which Clement had chosen as the seat of the Papacy
had the advantage, in John's eyes, of being separated from Philip's
territory by the Rhone and being under the suzerainty of Robert of
Naples. It was still a small, poorly built town. Clement had found the
Dominican monastery large enough for his Epicurean establishment. John
returned at first to his old episcopal palace, but the great rock on
which the Papal Palace now stands soon inspired his ambition and he
began assiduously to nurse the Papal income. Much of Clement's money
had been removed and stored by his clever and unscrupulous nephew, the
Viscount Bertrand de Goth, who would not easily disgorge it. After
a time John asserted his spiritual power, and summoned the Viscount
to present an account. Three times the noble ignored his summons,
and then, when John was about to proceed against him, he judiciously
distributed some of the money among the cardinals and had the case
postponed. At length he rode boldly into Avignon to give his account.
He had, he explained, with a most insolent air of simplicity and
candour, received 300,000 florins from his uncle. This sum was destined
to be used in the next Crusade, and he had sworn on the Gospels not to
yield it for any other purpose. John was baulked and was compelled to
compromise. They agreed to divide the money, and a receipt preserved
at the Vatican shows that 150,000 florins were all he obtained of
Clement's huge fortune. Clement had left only 70,000 florins directly
to his successor, and half of this had to go to the cardinals. All the
rest Clement regarded as private fortune and distributed among his
friends and servants.
John turned to the organization of the Papal income, and his success
in this direction is notorious. Villani says in his _Florentine
History_[256] that at his death John left a fortune of 25,000,000
florins[257] in coin and jewels. Villani is hostile, but he affirms
that he had this information from his brother, who was one of the
bankers appointed to appraise the sum. Other chroniclers give different
figures. It happens, however, that John's ledgers are still preserved
in the Vatican archives, and as in this case they completely refute
the anti-Papal chroniclers--a point certainly to be carefully noted
by the historian--they have been published.[258] Some of the ledgers
are "missing," but there are general statements (tallying with the
separate ledgers), and from these it appears that the entire income of
the Papacy during the eighteen years of John's Pontificate was about
four and a half million florins (or about £120,000 a year), and that
the greater part of this was spent on the Italian war. There is an
expenditure of nearly three millions under the humorous heading of
"Wax, and certain extraordinary expenses," and the items show that the
Italian campaign to recover the Papal estates absorbed most of this. At
the same time the ledgers do not quite confirm the edifying tradition
of John's sober and simple life. His table and cellar cost (in modern
terms) nearly £3000 a year; his "wardrobe" nearly £4000 a year: and
his officials and staff about £15,000 a year. Immense sums seem to
have been given to relatives--there is one item of 72,000 florins paid
to his brother Peter for certain estates--and we know that in 1339 he
began to build the famous Papal Palace.
In sum, the editors of John's accounts conclude that the Papal
treasury would, at his death, have shown a deficit of 90,000 florins
but for a loan of half a million from his private purse; and that
the total amount left behind by him (besides his valuable library of
1028 volumes, his collection of 329 jewelled rings, etc.) was only
about 800,000 florins. It is true that, in spite of the businesslike
appearance of the ledgers, we must not take this as a statement of
the Pope's entire estate. Vast sums were collected which did not pass
through Avignon, but went straight to the Legate in Italy (and possibly
elsewhere). Moreover, the "private purse" of the Pope is an interesting
and obscure part of his system. It was discovered at his death that he
had a secret "little chamber," over one of the corridors, into which a
large part of the income went. There are historical indications that
he diverted to his private account large sums for military and special
political purposes. He did not foresee how Clement VI. would genially
dissipate it, with the words: "My predecessors did not know how to
live." This account was not entered in books, and we have to be content
with the assurance that he left at his death rather less than a million
florins in all.
Yet an income of--if we make allowance for the unrecorded
sums--something like £200,000 a year, at a time when the patrimonies
were mostly alienated, was enormous, and there is no reason to doubt
the statement of all historians that it came largely from tainted
sources. John's fiscal policy is a stage in the degeneration of the
Papacy. Clement IV. had, in 1267, reserved to the Pope the income
of the benefices of clerks who died at Rome, and Boniface VIII. had
enlarged this by including all who died within a two days' journey of
Rome. John extended the law throughout the Church and demanded three
years' revenue for each that fell vacant. By his Bull _Execrabilis_ he
ordered all clerks (except his cardinals) who held several benefices
to select one and surrender the rest to the Apostolic See. He
created bishoprics--he made six out of the bishopric of Toulouse--by
subdividing actual sees (on the plea, of course, that the duties would
be better discharged), and by an astute system of promotions he, when
a see fell vacant, contrived to move several men and secure the "first
fruits" on their appointments: a vacant archbishopric, for instance,
would be filled by a higher bishop, the higher bishopric by a lower
bishop, and so on. It was possible to put a complexion of reform on
all these measures, but clergy and laity muttered a charge of avarice.
Then there were the incomes from kingdoms and duchies (England, Aragon,
Portugal, Naples, Sicily, Corsica, Sardinia, and Spoleto) which owed
an annual tribute, the yield of the surviving patrimonies, the taxes
on dispensations and grants, and a certain beginning of the sale of
indulgences which, unfortunately, we cannot closely ascertain.
John was not wholly immersed in finance and insensible of higher
duties. He created universities at Cahors and Perugia, regulated the
studies at Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris, and even (as we shall see)
concerned himself with the state of the East. But the only council
we trace under his control (held at St. Ruf, in 1326) was almost
entirely concerned with ecclesiastical property and immunities, and his
correspondence is, in effect, almost wholly fiscal and political. He
greatly enlarged the Rota (or legal and business part of the Curia),
and filled it with a cosmopolitan staff of clerks, to deal with this
large and lucrative side of his affairs. It is pleaded that the Papacy
could not discharge its duties without this wealth and power; and it
must seem unfortunate that the acquisition and maintenance of the
wealth and power left so little time for the duties they were to enable
the Pope to discharge.
Watered by this stream of gold, Avignon flourished. John was generous
to his family and his cardinals: palaces began to rise above the lowly
roofs of the town: a gay and coloured life filled its streets. A Papal
household costing £25,000 a year would of itself make an impression. We
know Avignon best in the later and even richer days of Benedict XII.
and Clement VI. who followed John. Not far away, even in the days of
John, dwelt a writer who was destined to immortality, and he passed
scathing criticisms on Avignon. Petrarch is a rhetorician and poet, as
well as a fierce opponent of the Avignon Papacy, but one cannot lightly
disregard his assurance that Papal Avignon was "Babylon," "a living
hell," and "the sink of all vices."[259] He is chiefly describing
Avignon under Clement VI., but he says that it is only a change "from
bad to worse" since John's days.
An episode that occurred soon after John's elevation is, perhaps,
more convincing than Petrarch's fiery rhetoric, since its features
were determined in a legal process. Hugues Géraud, a favourite of
Clement V., had obtained from that Pope the bishopric of Cahors,
paying the Papal tax of a thousand florins for it. He proceeded to
make his possession as lucrative as possible and live comfortably on
the revenue his clerks extorted for him. John's townsfolk appealed to
him, as soon as he settled in Avignon, and he summoned the Bishop to
his court. Hugues Géraud sealed the lips of his priests by an oath of
silence, but, of course, a Pope could undo that seal, and the inquiry
revealed enormities on the part of the Bishop. Toward the close of the
inquiry certain men were arrested bringing mysterious packages into
the town. They had with them various poisons and certain little wax
images concealed in loaves. The Bishop and his chief clerks were at
once arrested, and, although the Papal officials used torture to open
their lips, the substance of their story seems reliable. Fearful of the
issue, Hugues Géraud had applied to a Jew at Toulouse, and to others,
for these poisons and wax images. It was proved in court that members
of the Papal household, including a cardinal, were bribed to facilitate
the poisoning, and that the wax images, which were not effective
without the blessing of some prelate, were actually blessed by the
Archbishop of Toulouse. The Archbishop pleaded that he had no suspicion
of the awful purpose of these images--familiar as they were in the
Middle Ages--but he soon fled from Toulouse, and it is conjectured that
he had hoped that the death of the Pope would save his diocese (and
income) from the threatened dismemberment.[260]
Some of these images had already been smuggled into Avignon and the
Bishop and his archpriest had, in the well-known mediæval manner,
set up one of them as representative of the Pope's nephew, Cardinal
Jacques de Via, and stabbed it in the belly and legs with silver
styles, while the wicked Jew repeated the suitable imprecations. John
XXII. fully shared the views of his age in regard to these magical
practices, and we can imagine how he and others were confirmed in
that belief when, in the course of the trial, Jacques de Via sickened
and died. The trial came to a speedy conclusion. The Bishop of Cahors
was dragged by horses through the town and burned at the stake: his
numerous clerical and lay accomplices were adequately punished: and
John spurred the Inquisitors to a deadly campaign against magicians
throughout the country. Some of the cardinals were involved in this or
a similar plot, but John shrewdly disarmed them with gold rather than
make powerful enemies.
These details will suffice to make clear the state of the clergy and
laity at the close of a century which some writers appraise as one of
profound inspiration, and we must go on to consider the large policy
which John's wealth was intended to support. The central theme is,
once more, the political struggle with the Emperor--the undying curse
which temporal power had brought with it--but we cannot understand this
aright unless we first regard a spiritual struggle of great interest.
The followers of Francis of Assisi had branched into the customary
parties of rigourists and liberals. On the one hand were the great
body of the friars, living in large comfortable monasteries, raising
a stupendously rich church over the bones of their ascetic founder.
On the other hand were the faithful minority, the genuinely ascetic,
casting withering reproaches on the liberals, assimilating much of the
mystic and--we may justly say--protestant feeling which was growing
in Europe. There were bloody conflicts as well as highly seasoned
arguments. The "Spirituals" and "Fratricelli" could not but regard
the wealth and sensuality of the higher clergy as an apostasy from
the Christian ideal, and they had become one of the most pronounced
"protestant" sects of the time and were anathematized repeatedly by the
Popes. During the Papal vacancy the Spirituals had prospered and become
more strident. Christendom had apostatized, and they were the heralds
of a new religion, revealed to Francis of Assisi. This arrogant Papacy
and priesthood must disappear before true religion can flourish.
In the spring of 1317 John condemned them, and, when they still
preached revolt, summoned about sixty of them to Avignon. They used
very plain speech and received a very plain reply. The Papacy had now
discovered that persistent or "contumacious" disobedience amounted to
heresy, and the Inquisitors belonged to the rival Dominican order. So
several sons of St. Francis were burned at the stake--four were burned
at Marseilles on May 7, 1318--and many were cast into prison. But John
went too far. He ordered the Franciscan authorities to consider whether
absolute poverty was the genuine basis of their rule, and they decided
that it was: in the sense of a Bull (_Exiit qui seminat_) of Nicholas
III., which allowed them "the use" of things without the actual
"ownership." John revoked the Bull, and in a Decretal of December 8,
1322 (_Ad Conditorem_), declared that this was impossible nonsense.
When the friars retorted that such poverty had actually been practised
by Christ and his Apostles, John consulted the learned doctors of
Paris and, in the Decretal _Cum inter nonnullos_ (November 12, 1323),
pronounced this thesis heretical. The "Spirituals" were now reinforced
by abler men, who fled to Italy and joined the anti-Papal campaign of
Louis of Bavaria. Michael de Cesena, the General of the Order, nailed
to the door of Pisa cathedral a document in which he impeached John for
heresy. William of Ockham, the English friar, one of the most acute
of the later schoolmen, and others, discharged a shower of invectives
which would have made the fortune of a sixteenth-century Reformer.
John was "Anti-Christ," the "Dragon with Seven Heads," and so on. They
induced Louis of Bavaria to declare John's Decretals heretical, and
fought shoulder to shoulder with the learned Paris doctors, Marsiglio
of Padua and Jean of Jandun, whose _Defensor Pacis_ (1324) was a
crushing indictment of the Papal pretensions and vindication of the
secular power. All over Italy and Germany there was a fierce scrutiny
of the bases of the Papal claims. The Reformation was commencing, two
centuries before Luther.
The spiritual struggle had thus merged in the political struggle,
owing to the common opposition to John XXII., and this must now be
considered. Frederic of Austria and Louis of Bavaria were both chosen
King of the Romans, and, as neither had had the full number of votes,
there was the not unfamiliar struggle for recognition. They disregarded
John's summons to his tribunal, took to the sword, and Frederic was
beaten and imprisoned in 1322. John coldly acknowledged Louis's letter
announcing his victory; unquestionably he from the first wanted the
imperial crown to pass to France and the imperial rule to vanish from
Italy. Then Louis invaded Italy, and John declared war.
Italy already gave the Pope concern. The Ghibellines, or Imperialists,
had grown powerful in the Pope's absence, and their chief leader,
Matteo Visconti of Milan, a ruthless and exacting ruler, was "Imperial
Vicar" in the country. When Visconti, in defiance of the Pope's
commands, gave aid to the Ghibellines of Genoa, John, who claimed
to represent the Empire during the "vacancy," withdrew his title of
Vicar and awarded it to Robert of Naples. Robert went to consult John
at Avignon, and a campaign followed. Cardinal Bertrand de Poyet--who
was, says Petrarch, so much like John "in face and ferocity"[261]
that one could easily credit the rumour that he was John's son--was
sent to direct the Papal cause and to denounce the Viscontis to the
Inquisition. Matteo was found guilty of heresy (or contumacious refusal
to abandon the title of Vicar), and he and his son were charged with
oppression of the clergy (which is plausible enough) and with a quaint
and amusing mixture of magic and other devilry.[262] Possibly John
relied more confidently on the troops of Philip of Valois and Henry
of Austria, whom he successively summoned to Italy; but they retired
almost without a blow. Matteo repented and died, but his sons and their
associates continued the war.
At this juncture Louis conquered Frederic and sent word to the Legate
to keep his troops out of imperial territory. When the Legate refused,
he joined the Ghibellines and drew from John a vigorous denunciation.
He was to abandon the "heretics" and come to Avignon for the
examination of his claim to the Empire. Louis, retorting (under the
inspiration of the friars) that there were heretics at Avignon as well
as in Italy, went his way, and John turned to France. Charles the Fair,
the new King, had discovered that, when Clement V. had authorized his
marriage with Blanche of Burgundy, a remote godmothership had been
overlooked, and he was in the painful position of living with one to
whom he was not validly married. John declared the marriage void,
allowed Charles to marry another lady, and was soon in conference with
Charles and with Robert of Naples. Germany took alarm at this plain
hint of an intention to make Charles Emperor; the Italian spiritual war
upon the Pope was vigorously repeated in that country, and the Diet of
Ratisbon rejected John's authority and called for a General Council.
Louis, in 1326, became reconciled with Frederic of Austria and was
recognized in Germany as sole Emperor, but John had gone too far to
withdraw, or was too deeply involved with Charles of France and Robert
of Naples. In alliance with the Ghibellines, Louis made a triumphant
tour over Italy, and on April 18, 1328, to the immense joy of his
throng of rebel supporters, solemnly declared, in St. Peter's, that
"James of Cahors" was guilty of heresy and treason.[263] Friar Peter
of Corbara was substituted for him, with the name of Nicholas V., and
Rome exulted in the restoration of the Papacy. But the drama ended as
it had often ended before. Louis oppressed the country and alienated
his supporters; and before the end of the year Friar Peter was, with a
halter round his neck, at the Pope's feet in Avignon and Louis was back
in Germany. John refused to compromise honourably with Louis, and the
agitation against the Papacy in Germany, whither all the rebels had now
gone, was more bitter than ever.
The next phase of the struggle is not wholly clear. John of Bohemia
intervened and overran Italy. It seems probable that the Pope had
nothing to do with this invasion, and at first suspected that John
was in league with Louis; but that, as John made progress and had
friendly communication with Avignon, the Pope began to hope that the
new development offered him a stronger King of Italy (under Papal
suzerainty) than Robert and a less oppressive protector than Philip VI.
of France.[264] Philip and John visited the Pope at Avignon, and it
was announced that John was to be recognized as King of part of Italy.
The curious alliance of the three reveals some miscalculation. Philip
must have trusted that John of Bohemia would work for him, but the Pope
had assuredly no idea of abandoning his claim to Italy. The issue was
singular. The Italians, in face of this alliance, united under Robert
of Naples and overcame the Papal and Bohemian troops. John had, as part
of the campaign, announced his intention of transferring the Papal
Court to Bologna, and the Legate actually began to erect a palace for
him. When the Bolognese realized that John had no serious intention of
coming, they joined the Imperialists and cast out the Legate and his
troops. It is said that the collapse of his costly Italian campaign
weighed so heavily on the Pope that he did not leave his palace during
the year of life which still remained.
John's relations with other countries are not of great interest. He
was almost the master, rather than the slave, of the three French
monarchs who ruled during his Pontificate, and some of his letters
paternally chide them for such defects as talking in church. In
letters to Edward of England he tried to reconcile that monarch with
Robert Bruce, and he begged more humane treatment of the Irish, who
had appealed for his intervention. In Poland he excommunicated the
Teutonic knights for taking Danzig and Pomerania from King Ladislas.
His eye wandered even farther afield. He was genuinely interested in
the fate of Christians in the East, and sent a mission to the Sultan,
who sharply dismissed it. No Pope had, in a sense, a wider horizon,
for John not only sent friars to preach in Armenia and Persia, but
actually appointed a Legate for India, China, and Thibet. Yet his
ruling of the Christian world was singularly slender in comparison with
that of his great predecessors. His energy was absorbed in fiscal and
political matters. In co-operation with Philip he sent a fleet against
the Saracens, and it won a victory, but the Crusade he announced on
July 26, 1333, never went beyond that naval success. On the other hand,
when the Pastoureaux, a wild rabble, marched over France proclaiming a
popular Crusade, John excommunicated them for taking the cross without
his permission; of their appalling treatment of the Jews he made no
complaint, nor did he move when the lepers of France were brutally
persecuted on some superstitious charge of the time. He was oppressive
to the Jews, and ordered the burning of the Talmud.
He has, in fine, the distinction of putting forward a doctrine which
his Church condemns as heretical. Preaching on All Saints' Day in 1331,
he suggested that probably the saints did not enjoy the direct vision
(or Beatific Vision) of God in heaven, and would not do so until after
the Day of Judgment. There is no doubt whatever that he held this as
an opinion, though he made no effort to impose it on others; beyond
a certain liberality in bestowing benefices on clerics who supported
him. There was a violent agitation in France. The Dominican friars and
the universities strongly opposed the view, and, when the General of
the Franciscan Order thought it advantageous to support the Pope, the
King of France swore that he would not have his realm sullied by the
heresy. This agitation, and John's correspondence with Philip VI.,
make it quite clear that the Pope held the heresy, as an opinion. A
few days before he died, however, he wrote a Bull--at least, such a
Bull was published by his successor--endorsing the received doctrine
and declaring that he had put forward his theory only "by way of
conference."
He died on December 4, 1334, bowed with age and saddened by the
failure of his work. A more complete study of his letters than has
yet been made may in some measure enlarge our knowledge of his
properly Pontifical action, but there can be little doubt that money
and politics chiefly engrossed his attention. The chief interest of
his Pontificate is the light it throws on the preparation for the
Reformation. John's fiscal policy, however much open to censure, was
unselfish; but he opened to his even less religious successors the road
to disaster.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 255: For the letters see _Lettres de Jean XXII._ (2 vols.,
1908 and 1912), edited by Arnold Fayen: a selection of 3653 letters,
generally business notes of little importance. Various short lives of
John are given in Baluze's _Vitæ Paparum Avenionensium_, vol. ii.,
and there are censorious allusions to him in G. Villani's _Historie
Florentine_: a contemporary but biassed work. Bertrandy's _Recherches
sur l'origine, l'élection, et le couronnement de Jean XXII._ (1854)
is valuable for his early years, as well as Dr. J. Asal's _Die Wahl
Johann's XXII._ (1910). V. Verlaque's _Jean XXII._ (1883), is foolishly
partisan, and declares John "one of the greatest successors of St.
Peter." Sectional studies will be noticed in the course of the chapter.]
[Footnote 256: Xi., 20.]
[Footnote 257: The gold florin is estimated at about ten shillings of
English money.]
[Footnote 258: _Die Einnahmen der Apostolischer Kammer unter Johann
XXII._ (1910), by Dr. Emil Göller, and _Die Ausgaben der Apostolischer
Kammer unter Johann XXII._ (1911), by K.H. Shäfer.]
[Footnote 259: See, especially, the book of his letters "Sine titulo,"
most of which contain appalling invectives on the Popes and cardinals
and clergy. _Epistola_ xviii, is a classical picture of vice, even
among the elderly clergy. Its chief defect is to associate the name of
tolerably respectable Babylon with such a picture.]
[Footnote 260: See a full (and conservative) analysis of the evidence
in E. Abbe's _Hugues Géraud_ (1904). I am entirely ignoring the gossipy
chroniclers of the time, whom Milman too frequently follows.]
[Footnote 261: _Ep._ xvii. of the book "Sine titulo."]
[Footnote 262: See Michel, "Le Procès de Matteo et de Galeazzo
Visconti," in _Mélanges d'archéologie et d'histoire_, xxix. (1909),
and H. Otto, "Zur Italienischen Politik Johanns XXII.," in _Quellen
und Forschungen aus Italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken_, Bd. xix.
(1911).]
[Footnote 263: Baluze, ii., 512; and a later indictment, p. 522.]
[Footnote 264: See the essay on John's policy, by H. Otto, quoted
above.]
CHAPTER XI
JOHN XXIII. AND THE GREAT SCHISM
The next important stage in the devolution of the Papacy is the Great
Schism, the spectacle of which moved the increasing body of cultivated
laymen and the better clergy to examine critically the bases of the
Papal claims and seek an authority which should control the wanton
conduct of the Popes. The essential mischief of the long stay of the
Papal Court at Avignon is obscured when it is called a Babylonian
Captivity. Few of the Popes were servile to France, and it was not
France that detained them on the banks of the Rhone. The gravest
consequences of their voluntary exile were, that the isolation from
their Italian estates led them to pursue a corrupt and intolerable
fiscal policy: that the College of Cardinals degenerated and became
less scrupulous in the choice of a Pope: and, especially, that the
rival ambition of French and Italian cardinals to control the Papacy
led to an appalling schism. This phase will be best illustrated by an
account of the antecedents and the remarkable Pontificate of John XXIII.
The return of the Papal Court to Rome was mainly due to political
causes. Clement VI. (1342-1352), whose voluptuous indolence ignobly
crowned the fiscal system of John XXII., was followed by three Popes
who at least desired reform. The third of these, Gregory XI., was too
weak or resourceless to curb the ruthless action of his Legates in
Italy, and the sight of wild Breton mercenaries and hardly less wild
English adventurers (of Hawkwood's infamous company) spreading rape and
rapine under the Papal banner, disgusted the cities and states of the
Peninsula. Under the lead of Florence, they proceeded to affirm and
establish the independence of Italy. It was this threat, rather than
the romantic rebukes of a young nun (Catherine of Siena), which drew
Gregory XI., in 1376, from the safe and luxurious palace-fortress at
Avignon. A month after his arrival at Rome the Breton hirelings under
Cardinal Robert of Geneva committed a frightful massacre at Cesena, and
Gregory was almost driven back to Avignon by the storm which ensued.
But he died on March 27, 1378, and the cardinals met nervously at Rome
to choose a successor.
The din of the bloody encounter of Gascon, Breton, and Roman troops
in the streets reached the cardinals in the privacy of the Conclave.
One day, indeed, the armed Romans burst into the sacred chamber, and
brandished their weapons before the eyes of the terrified French
cardinals. Yet it is generally agreed that there was not such
compulsion as to invalidate the election, and Urban VI. became the
legitimate head of the Church. In the circumstances a delicate and
tactful policy was required, and the austere Neapolitan, of humble
birth, who secured the tiara was in this respect the least fitted of
the cardinals. He violently and vituperatively denounced the wealth
and luxury of his colleagues, and he alienated Italians no less than
French by the grossness of his manners. Within a few months the French
cardinals retired to Fondi, discovered that the election was invalid
on account of intimidation, and set up Robert of Geneva, a ruthless
soldier and entirely worldly-minded priest, as Anti-Pope, with the
title of Clement VII. So the schism began, and Christendom split into
two bitterly hostile "obediences." Clement retired to Avignon, and
preyed on France more avariciously than John XXII. had done: Urban's
impetuous rudeness wrapped Italy in a flame of war once more. In 1389
another Neapolitan, Boniface IX., succeeded Urban, and it is during
his Pontificate that there came upon the scene Baldassare Cossa, the
unscrupulous adventurer who became John XXIII.
Cossa was a Neapolitan, and is said by his hostile contemporary
Dietrich von Nieheim to have been a pirate in his youth.[265] Many
recent historians reject this statement, but as it is certain and
admitted that Cossa's two brothers were condemned to death for piracy
by Ladislaus of Naples, and it is clear that in his youth Cossa took
some part in the Angevin-Neapolitan war, it is not improbable that
Baldassare was himself engaged in raiding the Neapolitan commerce. He
was born about 1368, of a noble but impoverished Neapolitan house,
and he seems to have been known to the Neapolitan Pope. In his early
twenties he forsook the army or the sea, for which alone he was
qualified, and went to study law at Bologna. In 1392 Boniface made him
Archdeacon at Bologna: in 1396 he was summoned to the office of Private
Chamberlain at Rome, and his career began.
He was a typical Neapolitan--dark-eyed, keen-witted, of very robust
frame and very frail moral instincts--and the Pope needed such men.
During the first seven years of his Pontificate Boniface was kept in
check by the older cardinals, but, as they died, he sought money by
fair or foul means for the recovery of Italy. France and Spain sent
their gifts to Avignon, and England and Germany were not generous.
Benefices, from the highest to the lowest, were sold daily, and the
"first fruits" were demanded in advance. As the system developed,
spies were employed over Italy and Germany to report on the health of
aged beneficiaries, and there was a sordid traffic in "expectations."
Baldassare Cossa, the chief instrument of this gross simony, had
various scales of payment, and the purchaser of the "expectation"
of a benefice might find it sold over him to a higher bidder for a
"preference." A Jubilee had been announced for the year 1390, and
Boniface got the fruits of it, but this did not deter him from reaping
another golden harvest from a Jubilee in 1400. As, moreover, many
pilgrims, especially in Germany and Scandinavia, were deterred from
coming to Rome by the bands of robbers and ravishers who infested the
Papal estates, Boniface generously enacted that Germans might obtain
the same pardon by visiting certain shrines nearer home and paying to
Papal agents the cost of a journey to Rome.
These simoniacal practices are established and admitted, quite apart
from the testimony of Dietrich. We must, indeed, admit the evidence
of Dietrich when he tells us that he saw these Papal agents spread
their silk curtains and unfold their Papal banners in the churches of
Germany, and heard them declare to the ignorant people that St. Peter
himself had not greater power than they. We may also easily believe
his assurance that many of the German clergy denounced this traffic in
indulgences[266] and that it brought enormous sums to the Papacy. But
the precise sums, and the romantic stories, which Dietrich gives on
hearsay, especially in regard to Cossa, must be regarded with reserve.
He says that Cossa, when Legate at Bologna, arrested one of these
monk-agents returning to Rome with his bags of gold and relieved him;
and that the monk hanged himself in despair. These are fragments of
foolish rumour. We cannot deal so summarily with his statement that
the Chamberlain had his percentage of the profits and let it grow in
the hands of the usurers; and that he extorted money from prelates
by mendaciously representing that Boniface was angry with them and
offering to mediate. All that we can say with confidence is that Cossa
was the chief instrument of the Pope's nefarious system, and that,
although he had no private means, he amassed an enormous fortune. The
Council of Constance established this charge against him, as we shall
see.
In 1402, Cossa became Cardinal-deacon of St. Eustace--the Council of
Constance found that he bought that dignity--and in the following year
he was made Legate at Bologna. We cannot control Dietrich's statement
that the Pope wished to put an end to a scandalous _liaison_ of
Cossa's at Rome. It is not improbable, and would not be very unusual
at Rome, but the fact is that he knew Bologna and was a soldier, and
Boniface needed a soldier-legate in the north. In a very short time
Cossa won Bologna from the Milanese troops and made it a prosperous
and profitable Papal possession. He fortified it and restored its
institutions, even establishing a university of a very liberal
character. But he ruled it with an iron hand and ground it with taxes.
Even its gamblers and prostitutes had to pay the tithe of their
earnings, and the grumblers who constantly revolted or attempted to
assassinate Cossa were mercilessly punished. Dietrich boldly accuses
him of violating two hundred maids and matrons of the city, but we
can do no more than suspect that there must have been some foundation
for so large a repute. Again the Council of Constance sustains the
substance of the charge.
Boniface died on September 29, 1404, and Cossa was not present at the
Conclave. He had constantly to lead his troops against external as well
as internal enemies. The new Pope, Innocent VII., spent two futile
years in dreams of peace, and in November, 1406, the See again fell
vacant. Christendom now clamoured for an end of the scandalous schism,
and, when Gregory XII., an ascetic and worn old cardinal, assumed the
tiara, he was greeted as "an angel of light." He thanked God, with
tears in his eyes, that he was chosen to end the schism; if he could
not get mules or galleys, he would go on foot to meet Benedict XIII.
(who had succeeded Clement at Avignon) and resign together with him.
And within a few months Christendom witnessed the still more odious
spectacle of the two Popes, both men of advanced years and great piety,
straining every nerve to avoid each other and evade resignation. They
were to meet at Savona, but, as Leonardo quaintly says, "whenever there
was question of their meeting, one would, as if he were a land animal,
not approach the coast, and the other, as if he were an aquatic animal,
would not leave the sea." Benedict reached Savona; Gregory could not
be driven beyond Lucca. The best that can be said for him is that he
was ruled by greedy relatives. At last, on a pretext provided by his
supporter Ladislaus of Naples, Gregory fled back to Rome and refused to
listen to any further counsel of resignation.
Christendom, in disgust, now called for a General Council. France
disowned Benedict and, when he excommunicated the King, tore his Bull
in halves and ordered his arrest. He fled to Perpignan and Gregory to
Venice, and the cardinals began to negotiate with the princes for the
holding of the Council of Pisa. Cardinal Cossa, who had disdainfully
taken down the arms of Gregory XII. at Bologna, and who was in league
with Florence against Naples, took the lead in the new movement. When
Gregory excommunicated him, he burned the Bull in the market-place.
When Ladislaus of Naples advanced against Pisa, he united his troops
to those of Florence and scattered the southerners. When Benedict's
representatives asked for a safe-conduct through Italy, he said:
"If you come to Bologna, with or without a safe-conduct, I'll burn
you." So the Council met at Pisa, deposed Benedict and Gregory, and,
in effect, set up a third Pope, Alexander V. The situation being
without precedent, there was no canonical basis for such a Council,
and no executive to enforce the Council's decisions. Benedict and
Gregory--the one under the protection of Spain and the other with the
support of Naples, Rimini, and part of Germany--continued to fulminate
against each other, and a third discharge of anathemas only distracted
Christendom the more.
Cardinal Cossa set out once more at the head of his troops, and, with
the aid of Louis of Anjou and the Florentines, swept the Neapolitan
troops southward and opened Rome for Alexander. But that feeble and
aged Anti-Pope never reached the Lateran. He died at Bologna on May 4,
1410, and Louis of Anjou (representing the French influence) and the
Florentines urged on the cardinals the election of Cossa himself. At
midnight on May 17th, the expectant crowd at Bologna was informed that
the cardinals had come to an agreement, and an hour later Baldassare
Cossa, or John XXIII., stepped forth in the scarlet mitre and spotless
robes of a Vicar of Christ. There are chroniclers who say that he had
bribed the electors, and chroniclers who say that he had bullied them.
The first charge is not unlikely, as bribery was now becoming common
enough on the eve of or during a Conclave, but we cannot check these
rumours. Dietrich von Nieheim admits that Cossa nominated another
cardinal for the tiara, and the Council of Constance did not impeach
the regularity of his election. He was chosen because of his vigour and
military ability. Such was the condition of the Papacy that none seemed
to care that he was "a complete failure and worthless in spiritual
matters."
He must have been at that time about forty-three years old: a tall,
spare, soldierly-looking man, with large nose and piercing dark grey
eyes under bushy eyebrows. After devoting a few days to the customary
festivities, he set about the work of enabling Louis of Anjou to
displace Ladislaus on the throne of Naples and thus destroy Gregory's
main support. It may have been in deference to the feeling of some of
the cardinals that he first summoned Benedict and Gregory to resign
and asked his bitter enemy Ladislaus--the man who had condemned his
brothers--to pay the arrears of sixty thousand ducats which he owed
to the Roman See. All three contemptuously refused to recognize him,
and, as Ladislaus presently destroyed the fleet of Louis of Anjou and
advanced against the Papal troops, the prospect was uncertain. John
feverishly sought allies and funds. He conciliated England, where
the call for a real Ecumenical Council to depose the three Popes was
already heard, by suppressing an obnoxious Bull of Boniface IX. and
by other graces, and he contrived--after the blunders of his legates
had roused fierce opposition--to get a good deal of money from France.
Spain still supported Benedict.
The uncertain element was Germany, where, at the time, the outstanding
figure was Sigismund of Hungary. Sigismund had stood aloof from the
Council of Pisa. For some years he had diverted all money from the
Papal agents to his own pockets, because Boniface had recognized
Ladislaus, and he detested the French, who had had much to do with the
Council at Pisa. His support was of material importance to John, as
owing to the death of Rupert the day after John's election, he became
the chief candidate for the Empire. To John's delight, Sigismund now
sent ambassadors to do homage, and an agreement was reached. The Pope
was to validate the appropriation by Sigismund of church-moneys and
influence the Electors in his favour, and Sigismund would support John
against Ladislaus.[267] But there was still an element of danger and
uncertainty. Sigismund had sworn to end the Papal schism, and he was
known to be favourable to the summoning of another and more weighty
council. Moreover, John, who was a poor diplomatist, made a serious
blunder. The elected monarch became, by law of the Empire, King of
the Romans without any Papal confirmation; the _imperial_ crown and
title alone were given by the Pope. Yet John, seeking to magnify his
authority, persisted in addressing Sigismund until the anxious days of
the Council of Constance, as "Elected to be King."
I may tell very briefly the sequence of events in Italy. After a year
at Bologna, John proceeded to Rome and flung his troops upon the
Neapolitans. They won the important battle of Rocca Secca, but, owing
to the incompetence of the Papal legate who held supreme command, they
failed to follow up the success and Ladislaus recovered. In the next
few months John heard with increasing alarm that Louis of Anjou had
returned in despair to France: that the ablest Papal commander, Sforza,
had transferred his services to Naples: that Malatesta of Rimini, the
only other supporter of Gregory, was winning success in the north:
and that the Neapolitans were marching against Rome. He levied taxes
on the churches and citizens of Rome until they became restless. He
petulantly had an effigy of Sforza hanged on a gallows at Rome. He
pressed the sale of indulgences so flagrantly, and by such repellent
agents, that the reformers of Bohemia burned his Bull in the streets.
He excommunicated Ladislaus and proclaimed a crusade against him; and
not a prince in Europe stirred.
Now seriously concerned, John offered to recognize Ladislaus as King
of Naples if he would abandon Gregory, and that monarch at once basely
deserted his Pope. He ordered the stubborn old man to quit Gaeta, and
it is said that the people of Gaeta, who had grown fond of him, had to
pay his passage to his last refuge, the lands of the Lord of Rimini.
Ladislaus was made Gonfaloniere of the Church, and the Pope promised
him 120,000 ducats. But so onerous a peace could not endure. After some
mutual charges in the spring of 1413 the Neapolitan troops approached
Rome. The Romans assured John that they would eat their children rather
than surrender, but, when they saw the Pope and cardinals secure their
own position by crossing the river, they opened the gates and admitted
the Neapolitans. Their warrior-Pope, surrounded by cardinals who wept
for the treasures they had abandoned in Rome, fled to the north, and at
length reached Florence. Even here the citizens were afraid to admit
him. They assigned him the bishop's palace outside the walls, and from
this lowly centre John continued his sale of benefices and indulgences.
One other event will complete the record of John's Pontificate, before
we begin the story of his undoing. The abuses of the Roman Curia
had excited, or encouraged, various hostile movements. There were
Lollards in England, and followers of Hus and Jerome of Prague in
Bohemia. These vague and unimportant movements--from the Papal point
of view--were left to local prelates, but the growing Christian demand
for another General Council was disquieting. The Council of Pisa had
put itself above the Popes, and grave doctors at many universities
argued that a council must effect that reform of the Church which
Popes refused to effect. Probably John XXIII. did not appreciate the
full significance of this Conciliar movement, but he did see that
there was grave danger that a Council would depose him, as well as
Benedict and Gregory, unless he controlled it. He, therefore, in 1412,
announced that a General Council would be held at Rome, and he reminded
prelates that the Council of Pisa had enjoined this. But only a few
French and Italian prelates responded to his summons, and a strange
accident increased his uneasiness. One day, when all were assembled
in St. Peter's, a screech owl issued from a dark corner and perched
opposite the Pope. John reddened and perspired, as he gazed into the
uncanny eyes of the bird, and at last he left his seat and broke up the
sitting. It was there again at the next sitting, and was killed only
after a great commotion. A strange form for the Holy Ghost, the mockers
said; a dreadful omen for the Pope, said others. Reforms were promised,
and the works of Wyclif were condemned, but the Council was too small
to have effect and it was prorogued until December 1, 1413.
Meantime John was driven to the north, and from Florence he appealed
to Sigismund. Many eyes were turned to Sigismund from various parts
of Europe, and that singular monarch took quite seriously the high
function which was thrust upon him of saving and reforming Christendom.
He was a man of considerable ability, though it was apt to take the
form of cunning rather than statesmanship, but his narrow cupidity,
his notorious license in morals, and his general indifference to
principle made him an incongruous instrument for the reform of the
Church. He at once informed John that the state of the Church was to
be submitted to a General Council, and a struggle ensued between the
two as to whether it should be held south or north of the Alps. We have
the reliable assurance of Leonardo, John's secretary at the time, that
the Pope proposed to send two cardinals with full powers to treat,
which they were to show to Sigismund, and with secret instructions
restricting them. John told this design, with great complacency, to
his secretary,[268] though he did not carry it out. The Papal legates
met Sigismund at Como in the autumn and were pleased to think that
they made an impression on him, but John was dismayed to learn that,
on October 30th, the King of the Romans issued a proclamation to the
effect that a General Council would be held, under his presidency, at
Constance, on All Saints' Day, 1414.
John is described as stricken with fear and grief at the prospect of
a council outside Italy, but Sigismund was inflexible. They spent two
months together at Piacenza and Lodi, and the Pope must have penetrated
the King's design. He already leaned to the plan of deposing the three
Popes and electing another. John was compelled, on December 9th, to
issue a Bull convoking the Council, and he then went to Bologna to
await the attack of the Neapolitans. There, about the middle of August,
he received the welcome news that Ladislaus had been poisoned by
the father of one of his mistresses. He proposed to break faith with
Sigismund and disavow the Council, but the cardinals restrained him
from taking this wild step, and on October 1st he set out for the
north, sadly, with a troop of six hundred horse. He had for some time
wavered between gloomy apprehensions of a mysterious fate which pursued
him and buoyant confidence in his wealth and power.
The last words of his friends at Bologna must have recurred to him
again and again as he passed up the autumnal valley of the Adige and
entered the snows of the Tirol. He would not return a Pope, they said.
In the Arlberg Pass his carriage was overturned, and he exclaimed, as
he lay in the snow: "Here I lie, in the name of the devil, and I would
have done much better to stop at Bologna." He remained for some days at
Meran with Duke Friedrich, whom he made captain-general of the Papal
troops, with a salary of six thousand ducats a year. It was well to
make a friend of this powerful and discontented vassal of Sigismund.
At last, on October 27th, his troops turned the crest of the last low
hills before Constance, and he gazed down on the hollow between the
guardian mountains. "A trap for foxes," he is said to have muttered. On
the following day he rode into Constance, on his richly harnessed white
horse, under a canopy of cloth of gold, and occupied the episcopal
palace.
For three weeks the snowy roads down the mountain-sides from all
directions discharged gay streams of princes and prelates, bishops
and abbots, theologians and lawyers, thieves and prostitutes, bankers
and acrobats, upon the sleepy old town, until it seemed to burst with
a ravening multitude. Something between fifty and a hundred thousand
visitors had to be housed and entertained, and it is reported by grave
observers that more than a thousand prostitutes flocked to Constance
in the days of the Council.[269] There were, in the course of time,
twenty-nine cardinals, thirty-three archbishops, a hundred and fifty
bishops, a hundred and thirty-four abbots, and a hundred doctors
of law and divinity: among the latter a certain pale and thin man,
Master John Hus, who did not suspect that he had come to be tried on
a capital charge. But the Emperor was late--he was crowned at Aachen
on November 8th--so the first sitting of the Council, on November 5th,
was adjourned to the 16th, and then until the new year. Meantime the
thousands of entertainers did their duty, and the city rang day and
night with revelry, and a crowd speaking thirty different languages
filled the streets and overflowed on to the roofs and into the sheds
and even the empty tubs of Constance.
On Christmas morning, two hours after midnight, Emperor Sigismund made
a stately entrance from the Lake and a vast crowd attended John's
midnight mass. Then the struggle began. John's money circulated freely,
yet the view that he must be deposed with the other two was gaining
ground. He was gouty and his vigour was prematurely undermined, but he
fought for his tiara. Envoys came to represent Benedict and Gregory,
and he objected to their being received with honour; he was overruled.
He held that none less in rank than a bishop or abbot should vote,
and that the voting should be by heads, not nations; and again he
was overruled, and his Italian prelates would be outvoted. Then some
anonymous Italian put into circulation a memoir on his crimes and
vices, and he was greatly alarmed. To avoid scandal, however,--for
John admitted some of the accusations,--it was suppressed, but it was
decided that he must abdicate. After some evasive correspondence, he
promised to abdicate "if and when Peter de Luna and Angelo Corario" did
the same, and on March 7th he was compelled to embody the formula in a
Bull. He became ill and desperate, and there were rumours that he was
about to fly. Sigismund put guards at all the gates, but refused to
imprison him as the English, headed by the fiery Bishop of Salisbury,
demanded.
On March 20th, Duke Friedrich of Tirol drew all Constance to a grand
tournament outside the city, and in the midst of it he was noticed
to receive a message and leave the ground. Presently it was learned
that the Pope, disguised as a groom, had slipped out of the gate on
a poor horse, with two companions, and Friedrich had joined them at
Schaffhausen. Sigismund sternly forbade the dissolution of the Council,
laid a heavy punishment on his vassal, and sent some of the cardinals
to see John. The Pope declared that he had left solely on account of
his illness; he would abdicate and not interfere with the Council, but
the cardinals must join him at once or be excommunicated. The Council,
now led by the great Gerson and other strong French doctors, ignored
the Pope, and declared that it had, direct from Christ, a power to
which Popes must bow. As Sigismund's troops were after them, John and
Friedrich fled farther, and at last John quarrelled with his supporter
and fled in disguise across the Black Forest to Freiburg. He arrived
within reach of Burgundy, whose Duke was friendly, and he demanded
better terms. He would resign on condition that he was appointed
Perpetual Legate for the whole of Italy, with a pension of 30,000
florins; the alternative in his mind seems to have been a court at
Avignon under the protection of the Duke of Burgundy.
The end of his adventures is well known. The burghers of Freiburg
refused to protect him and he fled to Breisar, where the envoys of
the Council came to press for his resignation. He put on his rough
disguise once more, and made off with a troop of Austrian cavalry, but
Friedrich, to obtain a mitigation of his own sentence, betrayed him.
For several days he miserably resisted the pressure of the envoys,
weeping and wailing piteously, and on May 2d the Council summoned him
to appear before it within nine days to answer charges of heresy,
schism, simony, and immorality. On the seventh day a troop of horse
came for him, but he was ill and irresolute. On May 14th the patience
of the Council was exhausted; it suspended him from office and ordered
the public trial of the charges which had already been examined and
on which a mass of evidence had been taken. Two days later the great
assembly of prelates and doctors drew up the appalling indictment, in
seventy-two articles, of Baldassare Cossa. In the main the charges
referred to those acts of simony, bribery, corruption, and tyranny
which I have recounted, but it should be added that he was described as
"addicted to the flesh, the dregs of vice, a mirror of infamy" (art.
6), and "guilty of poisoning, murder, and persistent addiction to vices
of the flesh" (art 29). The worst charges of Dietrich were solemnly
endorsed by the gravest lawyers and priests of Europe.
John lay, prostrate and in tears, in an inn at Rudolphzell. He wished
to submit a defence, but a few friendly cardinals advised him to
submit, and when, on May 26th, he heard that the Council had endorsed
the indictment, he made no further resistance. He was deposed on the
29th and accepted the sentence with words of humility and repentance.
A few days later the wretched man was consigned to the castle of
Gottlieben, and then to a castle at Mannheim. There was, in the
following year, a futile attempt to rescue him, and he was confined in
the castle of Heidelberg, where he remained three years, with a cook
and two chaplains of his once magnificent establishment, composing
verses on the vanity of earthly things. The hollow words of his
consecration-ceremony, _Sic transit gloria mundi_, had for him assumed
a terrible reality.
How Gregory resigned, and Benedict retired with his tawdry court to a
rocky fortress of his, and the Council burned John Hus and appointed a
new Pope, may be read in history.[270] Martin left Cossa in Heidelberg,
but in the spring of 1419 his keeper was heavily bribed and he was
allowed to escape to Italy. It must have moved many when, as Martin
officiated at the altar in Florence cathedral, the familiar figure of
Baldassare Cossa broke from the throng and knelt humbly at his feet.
He was restored to the rank of cardinal, and, apart from a foolish
attempt, a few months later, to form a Lombard league against the
Emperor, he lived peacefully in the house of Cosmo de' Medici until his
death in December (1419). He was buried with pomp by the Republic, and
the fine monument which Cosmo raised in the Baptistery shows that some
appreciable qualities must have been united with his undisputed vices.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 265: _Historia de Vita Papæ Joannis XXIII._, which must be
cited with reserve, as the author had a bitter quarrel with John and
is often inaccurate. See C. Hunger, _Zur Geschichte Papst Johanns
XXIII._ (1876). More reliable are the references in the _Commentarii
rerum suo tempore in Italia gestarum_ (in Muratori, _Rerum Italicarum
scriptores_, xix.), of Leonardo of Arezzo, at one time John's
secretary. Leonardo's temperate verdict, that John was "a great man
in temporal things, but a complete failure and unworthy in spiritual
things," is endorsed by all. Exhaustive bibliographies will be found in
E.J. Kitto's excellent works, _In the Days of the Councils_ (1908), and
_Pope John the Twenty-third and Master John Hus of Bohemia_ (1910).]
[Footnote 266: As in modern Spain, the word "traffic" or "sale" would
be resented. The theory is that you give an alms to the Church and
the Church grants the indulgence. The amount of the alms is fixed
according to the grace required: there are four different _bulas_ in
Spain today. It is hardly necessary to add that the agents did not
officially sell the pardon of sins, but the remission of the punishment
due in Purgatory for such sins as were confessed. Nevertheless we have
the official assurance of the Council of Constance (art. 20) that John
XXIII. "sold absolution both from punishment and guilt," and there are
other indications of this grave abuse.]
[Footnote 267: We learn from later letters of the Pope that he worked
for Sigismund in Germany, especially when a rival "King of the Romans"
was elected. See the evidence in Dr. J. Schwerdfeger's _Papst Johann
XXIII. und die Wahl Sigismunds zum römischen König_ (1895).]
[Footnote 268: _Commentarii_, p. 928.]
[Footnote 269: The clergy had, of course, large troops of lay
followers, and numbers of lay doctors attended the Council, but we
have seen often enough the moral state of the clergy themselves in
the Middle Ages. A picturesque summary of the chroniclers is given by
Kitto, _Pope John the Twenty-third and Master John Hus of Bohemia_. See
also H. Blumenthal's _Die Vorgeschichte des Constanzer Concils_ (1897)
and, for the proceedings, H. Finke's _Acta Concilii Constantiensis_
(1896), and H. von der Hardt's _Magnum OEcumenicum Constantiense
Concilium_ (1696, etc.).]
[Footnote 270: I have not dwelt on Hus, as the Pope had little to do
with him. For some time, thinking to please the Emperor, John protected
Hus from his rabid opponents. The shameful ensnarement of Hus seems to
have been done without John's approval, and he was deposed before the
trial of Hus began.]
CHAPTER XII
ALEXANDER VI., THE BORGIA-POPE
Three grave issues had been laid before the Council of Constance: the
repression of heresy, the ending of the Schism, and the reform of
the Church "in head and members." In the third year of their labours
the prelates and doctors put an end to the Schism and elected Martin
V.; and the new Pope soon put an end to the Council before it could
reform the Church. Martin was a Colonna of high ideals and considerable
ability; but he was not well disposed to this democratic method of
reform by Council, nor was he strong enough to sacrifice Papal revenue
by suppressing the worst disorder, the Papal fiscal system. He returned
to Rome, and the task of restoring the city and the Papal estates
demanded such resources that he dare not abandon the corrupt practices
of the Curia.
Two worthy and able Pontiffs followed Martin, and equally failed
to bring about a reform. Eugenius IV., an austere, though harsh
and autocratic, Venetian, found that his attempts to recover Papal
territory and curb the Conciliar party would not permit him to reform
the financial system. The reformers forced on him the Council of
Basle in 1431, but its renewal of the Schism and creation of a last
Anti-Pope, when he resisted its proposals, discredited the Conciliar
movement. Reform must come from without: Popes and cardinals could
not effect it, and in the prevailing creed there was no canonical
basis for the action of a Council in defiance of them. Nicholas V.,
a quiet man of letters, crowned the financial and political work
of his two predecessors with a great artistic restoration. He left
politics to Æneas Sylvius and opened the gates of Rome to the fairer
form of the Renaissance. Greek artists and scholars were now pouring
into Italy--Constantinople fell to the Turks during this Pontificate
(1453)--and fostering the growth of the Humanist movement. Rome began
to assume its rich mantle of mediæval art, and the Papacy seemed to
smile once more on a docile and prosperous Christendom.
But the restoration had been accomplished by an evasion of reform,
and the new culture was sharpening the pens of critics. One of these
inquisitive scholars, Lorenzo Valla, was actually declaring that the
"Donation of Constantine" was a forgery. Many denounced, in fiery prose
or with the cold cynicism of the epigram, the luxury and vice of the
higher clergy. Heresy hardened in Bohemia, and, among the stricter
ranks of the faithful, men like Nicholas of Cusa, John Capistrano, and
Savonarola were raising ideals which, if they rebuked the laity, far
more solemnly rebuked the clergy. And just at this critical period
the Papacy entered upon a development which ended in the enthronement
of Alexander VI., Julius II., and Leo X.; the Reformation inevitably
followed.
At the death of Nicholas V., the Orsini and Colonna cardinals came to a
deadlock in their struggle for the Papacy, and a neutral and innocuous
alternative was sought in Alfonso Borgia (or, in Spanish style, Borja),
a Spanish canonist of some scholarly distinction. Calixtus III., as he
named himself, was a gouty valetudinarian who lay abed most of the day
in pious conversation with friars. He very properly disdained the new
art and culture, and saved the Papal funds to meet the advancing Turks.
He had, however, one weakness, which was destined to prove very costly
to the Papacy. There was a tradition of nepotism at Rome, and Calixtus
had nephews. While he was Bishop of Valencia, his sister Isabella
had come to him from Xativa, their native place, with her two sons,
Pedro Luis and Rodrigo. When, in 1455, he became Pope, he sent Rodrigo
to study at Bologna and enriched him with benefices. Pedro Luis was
reserved for a lay career, and Juan Luis Mila, son of another sister,
was sent with Rodrigo to Bologna.
At this time Rodrigo Borgia was in his twenty-fifth or twenty-sixth
year: an exceptionally handsome young Spaniard, with the most charming
Spanish manners, and with rich sensuous lips and an eye for maidens
which escaped his uncle's notice. He and his cousin were, within a
year, made cardinals. In December (1456) he was appointed legate for
the March of Ancona, and in the following May he was, in spite of the
murmurs of the cardinals, promoted to the highest and most lucrative
office at the Court, the Vice-Chancellorship. His elder brother became
Duke of Spoleto, Gonfaloniere of the Papal army, and (in 1457) Prefect
of Rome. Other needy Spaniards came over the sea in droves, and the
disgusted Romans were soon ousted from the best positions. In 1458,
however, Calixtus fell ill, and was reported to be dead; and the Romans
chased the "Catalans" out of the city. Rodrigo at first retired with
his more hated brother, but he courageously returned on August 6th,
just in time to witness the actual death of his uncle.
Æneas Sylvius mounted the throne, under the name of Pius II., but
the Humanists looked in vain for favour to that genial diplomatist,
traveller, and _littérateur_. He had reached a gouty and repentant
age, and his one pre-occupation was to stir a lethargic Christendom
to a crusade against the Turks. Cardinal Rodrigo had been useful to
him, reserving a vacant benefice for him now and again, so he kept
his place and continued to win for himself wealthy bishoprics and
abbeys. For a moment, in 1460, Rodrigo trembled. Pius had sent him to
direct the building of a cathedral at Siena, and the Pope startled his
Vice-Chancellor with a stern letter. Rodrigo and another cardinal, the
Pope heard, had entertained a number of very frivolous young ladies for
five hours in a private garden. They had excluded the parents of these
girls, and there had been "dances of the most licentious character" and
other things which "modesty forbids to recount." It was the talk of the
town.[271] From the kind of dances and women which Alexander had in
the Vatican long afterwards we can imagine the things which startled
Siena. Rodrigo urged that there had been exaggeration, but the Pope,
while admitting the possibility of this, again sternly bade him mind
his behaviour.
The long discussion of the morals of Alexander VI. has, in fact,
now ended in entire agreement that by the year 1460, at least, he
was openly immoral. The Papal and other documents relating to his
children--at least six in number--which have been found in the Vatican
archives and in the private archives of the Duke of Ossuna show an
extraordinary laxity at Rome. There is a Bull of Sixtus IV., dated
November 5, 1481, legitimizing the birth of Pedro Luis Borgia, "son
of a cardinal-deacon and an unmarried woman"; he is described as "a
young man," and was probably born about 1460. There is the marriage
contract of Girolama Borgia, dated 1482, which refers to the "paternal
love" of the Vice-Chancellor; she must then have been at least thirteen
years old. There is a document, dated October 1, 1480, dispensing from
the bar of illegitimacy Cæsar Borgia, "son of a cardinal-bishop and a
married woman"; and he is described as in his sixth year, or born about
1475. There is a deed of gift of Rodrigo to Juan Borgia, "his carnal
son," whose birth must fall either in 1474 or 1476. There are documents
referring to the celebrated Lucrezia, whose birth is generally put
in 1478, and to Jofre Borgia, who was born about 1480; and there are
documents from which we have--as we shall see later--the gravest
reason to conclude that the Pope had a son in 1497 or 1498, when he
approached his seventieth year. Except that a few hesitate, in face of
the strongest evidence, to admit the last child, no serious historian
of any school now questions these facts, and the evidence need not be
examined in detail.[272]
At least four of these children were born of Vannozza (or Giovannozza)
dei Catanei, a Roman lady who was the Cardinal's mistress from about
1460 to 1486. The story that she was an orphan entrusted to his care
and seduced by him is not reliable. Nothing is confidently known about
her early years, but her epitaph has been discovered, and it honours
her, not only for her "signal probity and great piety," but because
she was the mother of Cæsar, Juan, Jofre, and Lucrezia Borgia. Pedro
Luis and Girolama may have been born of an earlier mistress, but it is
not at all certain. Vannozza, who married three times, is constantly
mentioned, by the ambassadors, as Borgia's mistress. She had a handsome
mansion near the Cardinal's palace and the Vatican, and she entertained
there and in her country house long after Borgia became Pope and
replaced her by a younger mistress.
These monuments of parentage are almost the only evidences of the
existence of Cardinal Borgia under Pius II. and Paul II. In 1471 a
pious and learned Franciscan friar, Sixtus IV., assumed the tiara,
and it is an indication of the strange temper of the times that under
such a man the Papal Court became more corrupt than ever.[273] Sixtus
vigorously restored the secular rule of the Papacy and encouraged the
artistic and cultural development, but his nepotism was shameless
and profoundly harmful. One of the nephews whom he drew from the
obscurity of a Franciscan monastery and made a prince of the Church
was Pietro Riario, who spent 260,000 ducats,[274] and within two years
of his promotion wore out his life in the most flagrant dissipation.
His immense palace, with its magnificent treasures, its five hundred
servants in scarlet silk, and its prodigious banquets, was the home of
every species of vice; and it is said that his chief mistress, Tiresia,
flaunted eight hundred ducats' worth of pearls on her embroidered
slippers. Another nephew was the sterner, though also immoral, Cardinal
Giuliano della Rovere--also brought from a monastery--whom we shall
know as Julius II. Other cardinals promoted by the friar-Pope were
equally notorious for their indulgence and for the unscrupulous quest
of money to sustain it.
From the Bulls of Sixtus which I have quoted, it is clear that he was
acquainted with the vices of Borgia, yet he sent him as legate to
Spain, to excite interest in the crusade, in the spring of 1472. In
spite of some compliments, it does not appear that Borgia did more than
impress his countrymen with his display and gallantry, and he returned
toward the close of 1473 and built one of the most stately palaces
in the rich quarter which was now rising round the Vatican. When
Sixtus died, in 1484, he made a resolute effort to get the tiara. The
dispatches of the ambassadors who now represented the northern States
at the Vatican afford us a valuable means of checking the chroniclers,
and they put it beyond question that Borgia and Giuliano della Rovere
entered upon a corrupt rivalry for the Papacy. Giuliano was now a
tall, serious-looking man of forty: reserved in speech and brusque in
manners, a good soldier and most ambitious courtier. Although he was
known to have children, he kept a comparatively sober household and
reserved his wealth for special occasions of display and for bribery.
Borgia was his senior by thirteen years, but he had the buoyancy,
gaiety, and sensuality of a young man. He, too, kept a moderate table
and gambled little, but his amours were notorious and one could not
please him better than by providing a ballet of handsome women. To
these wealthy "up-starts" the haughty Orsini and Colonna were bitterly
opposed, and the announcement of the death of Sixtus let loose a flood
of passion. The splendid mansion of Count Riario, another nephew of
the late Pope, was sacked, the Orsini entrenched themselves on Monte
Giordano, and the other cardinals filled their halls with armed men.
In the Conclave it was soon apparent that neither Rodrigo nor Giuliano
could command the necessary two thirds of the votes, and they agreed to
adopt Cardinal Cibò, a Genoese noble who had outburned the passions of
youth before he entered the service of the Church. During the night of
August 28-29, when the supporters of Cardinal Barbo (who seemed to be
sure of election) had confidently retired to their cells, Rodrigo and
Giuliano, by intrigue and bribery, secured a majority for Cibò.[275] He
became Innocent VIII. the next morning, and during the eight years of
his amiable and futile Pontificate the College of Cardinals steadily
sank. Innocent's natural son was drawn from his decent obscurity and
made one of the richest and fastest nobles of Rome; and women were
hardly safe even in their own homes when Franceschetto Cibò roamed the
streets at night, with his cut-throats, in one of his wine-flushed
moods. He took so ardently to the new cardinalitial pastime of gambling
that in one night he lost 100,000 ducats to Cardinal Riario. Cardinal
la Balue left at his death a fortune of 100,000 ducats. Cardinal
Ascanio Sforza, brother of the ruler of Milan, was the leading
sportsman of Roman society. Cardinal Lorenzo Cibò owed his red hat
to the fortunate circumstance that he was an illegitimate son of the
Pope's brother. Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici, who was one day to be
Leo X., had received the tonsure in his eighth year and the title
of cardinal in his fourteenth. Cardinals Savelli, Sclafenati, and
Sanseverino were members of the fast and luxurious group. Each cardinal
maintained a large palace, with hundreds of gay-liveried servants and
ready swordsmen, and the wealthier seem to have studied with care the
pages in which Macrobius describes the exquisite or colossal banquets
of the older pagans. Each--apart from the minority of grave and
virtuous cardinals--had his faction in the city, and, as carnival
time approached, they were engrossed for weeks in the preparation of
the superb cars and brilliant troops of horse by which each sought to
prove his superior fitness for the chair of Gregory I. and Gregory VII.
Innocent VIII. smiled; and the thunders gathered beyond the Alps.
The state of Rome was in accord with the state of the Sacred College.
We may hesitate to believe Infessura when he tells us that, if
criminals were by some chance arrested, they bought their liberty at
the Vatican; but we have in Burchard's Diary a sombre, incidental
indication of the condition of Rome. There is in modern literature some
tendency to look with indulgent eye on the coloured gaiety of late
mediæval Rome, but--to say nothing of the ideals which the cardinals
professed--the insecurity of life and property and the widespread
brutality show that this license was far removed from genuine Humanism.
Some years later, when Rodrigo's son Juan was murdered, a boatman
said, when they asked why he had not reported seeing a body cast into
the river, that it was not customary to have any inquiry made into a
nightly occurrence of that kind. Rodrigo Borgia, the Vice-Chancellor,
paid no heed to this condition of the city. He added year by year to
the long list of his bishoprics and emoluments, and prepared to renew
the struggle for the tiara. He lost, or discarded, Vannozza when she
married her third husband in 1486 and entered upon a more sordid and
equally notorious _liaison_. His cousin, Adriana Orsini, had charge
of a young orphan, Giulia Farnese, a very beautiful, golden-haired
girl. She married Adriana's son, Orso Orsini, in 1489--her fifteenth
year--and at the same time became the Cardinal's mistress. Adriana
was rewarded with a considerable influence and the charge of the young
Lucrezia Borgia.[276]
The death of Innocent on July 25, 1492, led to fierce intrigue and
passionate encounters. There were more than two hundred murders in Rome
during the fourteen days before the Conclave, for which twenty-two
cardinals were, on August 6th, immured in the Sistine Chapel. Giuliano
della Rovere had spoiled his prospect by too patent a use of his
influence on Innocent VIII., and Borgia set himself to win the next
most important rival, Ascanio Sforza. Historians sometimes smile at
the statement of Infessura, that four mule-loads of silver passed from
Borgia's palace to that of Sforza, but it is not improbable. For some
centuries there had been a custom (abolished a few years later by Leo
X.) of sacking the palace of the cardinal who was elected Pope, and it
was not unusual to take precautions. Borgia may have sent the silver on
this pretext, as Infessura suggests, and he would hardly expect it to
be returned. It is, in fact, now certain that Sforza was bribed with
gifts far more valuable than Borgia's table silver; Borgia offered,
and afterwards gave him, his splendid palace, the Vice-Chancellorship,
the bishopric of Erlan (worth 10,000 ducats a year), and other
appointments. The sober Cardinal Colonna accepted the abbey of Subiaco
(or 2000 ducats a year). Eleven cardinals seem to have sold their
votes, and Borgia already had three supporters and his own vote. He
secured his majority and hastily retired behind the altar, where Papal
vestments of three sizes were laid out, and the genial Romans presently
roared their greetings to Alexander VI.[277]
Rome and Italy then sustained their parts in the comedy. Alexander,
although now sixty years old, was a vigorous and capable man, and some
advantage would be expected from his Pontificate. But one's sense of
humour is excited when one reads in Burchard's Diary, or in the letter
(reproduced by Thuasne) written by the General of the Camaldolite
monks, the description of the rejoicings at Rome. After the coronation
at St. Peter's on August 27th, Alexander received, on the steps of the
great church, the greetings of the orators who represented the northern
cities. One wonders what was the countenance of the massed prelates
and nobles when the Genoese orator read: "Thou art so adorned with the
glory of virtue, the merit of discipline, the holiness of thy life ...
that we must hesitate to say whether it is more proper to offer thee to
the Pontificate or to offer that most sacred and glorious dignity to
thee." And, as Alexander passed in stately procession to the Lateran,
he read on the triumphal arches which adorned the route, such maxims
as "Chastity and Charity," and "Great was Rome under Cæsar, now is she
most great. Alexander the Sixth reigns: Cæsar was a man, this is a God."
I make no apology for inserting these apparently trivial details in so
condensed a narrative. They, most of all, illumine the next momentous
phase of the history of the Papacy. In that year, 1492, a little
German boy, named Martin Luther, sat at his books in the remote town
of Mansfeld.
Infessura records that Alexander opened his Pontificate with large
promises and small instalments of reform. He was going to improve the
condition of Rome and the Church, to pacify Italy, and to check the
Turks; he would remove his children from Rome and reduce the number of
sinecures at the Curia. He did, in fact, make a drastic beginning of
the administration of justice, and even appointed certain hours during
which he would himself hear grievances. Possibly he had a sincere mood
of reform; though we are not disposed to be charitable when we recall
the appalling levity with which, a few years later, after the murder of
his son, he returned to vicious ways. Whatever his initial mood was, he
soon entered upon courses which made his Pontificate one of the most
degraded in the annals of the Papacy. Modern research has discredited
some of the most romantic crimes attributed to him, but it leaves on
his memory an indictment which no eager search for good qualities can
materially lessen.
He sustained the scandal of his personal conduct until the end of
his life, and I will dismiss it briefly. During the first four
years of his Pontificate, the youthful Giulia Orsini was his chief
_favorita_--others are occasionally mentioned with that title by the
ambassadors--and she was known to the wits of Rome as "the Spouse
of Christ." She and Adriana Orsini and Girolama (the Pope's elder
daughter) are described as "the heart and eyes of Alexander," and
suitors had to seek their favour. When Giulia's brother Alexander
received the red hat (Sept. 20, 1493), Rome gave the future Pope--who
was by no means without personal merit--the name of "The Petticoat
Cardinal." When her daughter Laura was born in 1497, the Pope was
generally believed to be the father; though that remains a mere rumour.
Pucci, in one of his dispatches, gives us a quaint picture. Giulia
lived in Lucrezia's palace, apart from her husband, and, when the
ambassador called one day in 1493, she dressed her long golden hair in
his presence, and insisted that he must see the baby; and he remarks
that the baby was "so very like the Pope that one can readily believe
he was the father." Giulia was an almost indispensable figure for some
years at the domestic (and even greater than domestic) festivities in
the Vatican, laughing with the cardinals at the prurient comedies and
still more prurient dances which enlivened the sacred palace.[278]
The last child attributed to him, though not accepted by all the
authorities, seems to have been born in 1496 (his sixty-sixth year).
There is a document dated September 1, 1501, legitimizing a certain
Juan Borgia, but there are two versions of this document.[279] The
first version describes him as the child of Cæsar Borgia: the second
says that he was born "not of the said Duke, but of us [Alexander] and
the said married woman." Creighton made the singular suggestion that
possibly Alexander was giving prestige to an illegitimate offspring
of his son, but it is now agreed that the second version is the more
authentic; it was to be kept in reserve for some grave dispute of his
rights. The distinguished Venetian Senator Sanuto tells us[280] that,
according to letters received from the Venetian ambassador at Rome
and from private persons, the Pope had, about this time, a child by a
married Roman lady, with the connivance of her father, and that the
angry husband slew his father-in-law and stuck his head on a pole,
with the inscription: "Head of my father-in-law, who prostituted his
daughter to the Pope." These concurrent testimonies are grave. Most
historians now rightly reject the charge that Alexander was intimate
with his daughter Lucrezia, since it rests only on bitterly hostile
Neapolitan gossip; but we cannot so easily set aside the persistent
statements of the ambassadors that a new _favorita_ appears at the
Vatican from time to time. These were sometimes ladies of Lucrezia's
suite.
Lucrezia, a merry, childish-looking, golden-haired girl, with her
father's high spirits and constant smile, is not likely to have
remained virtuous in such surroundings, but there is no serious
evidence of incest. Before her father's election she was betrothed
to a Spanish youth of moderate family, but her father cancelled the
espousals and married her, at the Vatican, in 1493, to Giovanni Sforza.
She was then, it is calculated, fifteen years old. Twelve cardinals
and a hundred and fifty of the great ladies of Rome attended the
wedding; and some of the prettier ladies remained to sup with the Pope
and cardinals, and applaud the loose comedies he provided. Giulia and
Lucrezia were present. When the Pope's policy estranged him from Milan,
he forced Lucrezia's husband to swear that the marriage had not been
consummated, and dissolved it. It seems probable that Giovanni, in
revenge, then put into circulation the suggestion of incest. Lucrezia
married Alfonso of Naples, who was murdered by her brother in 1500.
She then married the son of the Duke of Ferrara: and there is perhaps
no more terrible indictment of the Papal Court under Alexander than
the fact that, when his daughter was removed from it to Ferrara,
she earned, and kept until her death, a just repute for virtue and
benevolence.
These marriages introduce us to Alexander's political activity, on
which some recent historians have passed a somewhat lenient judgment.
Apart, however, from the treachery and brutality with which his aims
were often enforced, we shall find that at his death he left the
Papacy almost landless and impoverished, and we must conclude that his
chief objects were his personal security and the aggrandizement of his
children.
At the time of Alexander's accession, the duchy of Milan was improperly
held by Lodovico Sforza, brother of the Cardinal Ascanio, who sought
to convert his temporary regency into a permanent sovereignty. In
this ambition he had the support of France, while Ferrante of Naples
endeavoured to enforce the claim of the rightful Duke, Giovanni
Galeazzo. Alexander's indebtedness to Ascanio bound him at once to
the Sforzas, and the imprudence of Ferrante in helping his commander,
Virginio Orsini, to purchase from the nephew of the late Pope certain
towns which Alexander regarded as Papal fiefs, gave him an occasion
for animosity. Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere was implicated in this
sale, and when the Pope angrily rebuked him, he fled to Ostia and
fortified that commanding town. Alarmed at this cohesion of his enemies
and the support of their designs by Florence, Alexander entered into
a counter-league with Milan, Venice, Siena, Ferrara, and Mantua, and
married his daughter to Giovanni Sforza. Ferrante, however, appealed
to Spain, submitting (with the support of Cardinal della Rovere) that
the corrupt election and profligate life of Alexander demanded the
attention of a General Council, and the Pope sought a compromise. The
matter of the towns in Romagna was adjusted, Alexander's son Jofre was
betrothed to an illegitimate daughter of Alfonso of Calabria, and his
younger son, Juan, Duke of Gandia, was wedded to a Spanish princess.
Cæsar was destined for the Church and was made a cardinal on September
20, 1493. As Alexander had sworn before his election not to create
new cardinals, and now calmly absolved himself from his promise and
promoted several, the hostile cardinals again angrily deserted him.
Ferrante died on January 27, 1494, and the Pope had to confront a
delicate problem. France, instigated by Milan, pressed a claim to
the kingdom of Naples, and Alfonso II. demanded the investiture in
succession to Ferrante. Charles of France refused to be consoled with
the Golden Rose which Alexander sent him in refusing to recognize his
claim to Naples, and he threatened a General Council or a separation
of the French Church. When Alexander proceeded to take Ostia by force,
driving Cardinal Giuliano to France, and sent Cæsar to crown Alfonso
at Naples, the French monarch announced that he would lead his army
into Italy in order to recover Naples, to reform the Church, and to
conquer the Turks. The latter purpose furnished the Pope with a pretext
for a disgraceful move. Djem, the brother of the Sultan Bajazet, had
been enjoying the dissipations of Rome since 1489, and Bajazet paid
the Papacy 40,000 ducats a year to keep his younger brother in this
gilded captivity. Since Alexander's accession, Bajazet had refused
to pay the fee, and the Pope now wrote to the Sultan to say that the
King of France was coming to seize Djem and make him the pretext for
a war on the Turks; Bajazet must at once send 40,000 ducats to enable
him to resist the French. The Sultan sent the money, but his and the
Pope's envoy were captured by Cardinal della Rovere's brother, and were
relieved of the money and the Sultan's letter. When this letter was
published, Christendom learned with horror that the Sultan had offered
its Pope 300,000 ducats if he would have Djem assassinated.[281]
Of the war which followed little need be said. As the victorious French
advanced, Alexander tremblingly vacillated. At one moment he imprisoned
the pro-French cardinals, and then released them; and at another moment
he packed his treasures for flight, and then decided to meet the French
King. Alfonso bewailed that the Pope's arm was too weak or too cowardly
to launch an anathema against the invader. In the end the Pope met and
disarmed Charles. To the intense disgust of Giuliano della Rovere,
who had come with the King in expectation of the tiara, he persuaded
Charles that an Italian, even in the chair of Peter, could hardly
be expected to lead a saintly life; and to the equal indignation of
Alfonso he, while refusing to recognize Charles's claim to the throne
of Naples, abandoned the Neapolitan alliance and gave his son Cæsar as
a hostage of his good behaviour. With similar treachery to the Sultan
he abandoned Djem to Charles, yet stipulated that the yearly 40,000
ducats should still go to the Papal treasury.[282]
Charles took Naples, and soon learned that the versatile Pope had,
behind his back, entered into a league against him with Maximilian of
Germany, Ferdinand of Spain, Venice, and Lodovico Sforza. Alexander
prudently quitted Rome when the French King returned, and flung after
him a feeble threat of anathema, as he was cutting his way through the
allies. But by the aggrandizement of his family he made an evil use
of the peace which followed. Cæsar was made legate for Naples and his
nephew Juan legate for Perugia; and to his favourite son Juan, Duke of
Gandia, he assigned the important Papal fief of the duchy of Benevento,
to be held by him and his heirs for ever. Even loyal cardinals grumbled
at the scandal, while the outspoken and more distant critics spread in
every country the story of his private life. Alexander, delivered from
the menace both of France and Naples, cast aside all restraint. But his
gaiety was soon darkened by a grave tragedy, and it is, perhaps, the
most precise and most damning characterization of the man to record
that even this appalling catastrophe, occurring near the close of his
seventh decade of life, did not disturb for more than a few months the
licentious course of his conduct.
On June 14, 1497, Vannozza gave a banquet to her sons and a few
friends in the suburbs. Cæsar and Juan returned to the city together,
and were joined by a masked man who had for some weeks been seen in
communication with the young Duke. Juan left his brother with a light
hint that he had an assignation, and the same night he was murdered and
his body thrown into the Tiber. We are as far as contemporaries were
from identifying the murderer. That it was Cæsar Borgia few serious
historians now believe. That suggestion did not arise until nine
months after the murder, and the motives alleged are not convincing.
It is more plausibly claimed that the Sforzas and the Orsini adopted
this means of striking at the heart of the Pontiff, but it is equally
possible that Juan incurred the penalty of some dangerous seduction.
I am concerned only with Alexander. Appalled by this sudden clouding
of his prosperity, the Pope summoned his cardinals and announced with
tears that he would remove his children from Rome and abandon his
corrupt ways. Six cardinals were at once appointed to draw up a scheme
of Church-reform, and the draft of a Bull, which is still to be seen
in the Vatican archives, shows with what devotion Cardinals Costa and
Caraffa and their colleagues applied themselves to the long-desired
task. But before the end of the year Alexander had returned to his
vices and abandoned the idea of reform. He informed the cardinals
that he wished to release Cæsar from membership of their College, in
order that he might be free to contract an exalted marriage and pursue
his ambition; and it was then (December, 1497) that he brought about
the shameless divorce of Lucrezia from Giovanni Sforza. The Vatican
chambers resumed their nightly gaiety.
The Orsini and the Colonna now buried their ancient and deadly feud and
united with Naples, and the demand for a General Council was ominously
echoed in Germany and Spain. Alexander sought at first a counterpoise
in Naples, and wished to marry Cæsar and Lucrezia into the family of
Alfonso. After some hesitation, and with marked reluctance, Alfonso
II. gave his natural son Alfonso to Lucrezia, but he refused, in
spite of the political advantage, to degrade his daughter Carlotta
by a marriage with Cæsar. It is not immaterial to observe that Cæsar
had, like four other cardinals of the Church, contracted the "French
disease" which was then so fiercely punishing the vice of Italy. It
happened that at that time Louis XII. sought a divorce, and, at first
in the hope of bringing pressure on Naples, Cæsar, after resigning the
cardinalate on August 17th, was sent to gratify and impress the French
Court. Even Giuliano della Rovere, who lived quietly at Avignon, was
induced to enter the intrigue. Carlotta and her father still disdained
the connexion, but Louis offered Cæsar his young and beautiful niece,
Charlotte d'Albret, and the counties of Valentinois and Diois. They
were married on May 22d (1499), and the Papal policy entered upon a new
phase.
The Papacy and Venice, preferring their selfish interests to the
welfare of Italy, allied themselves with France, and for the hundredth
time an invading army descended upon the plains of Lombardy. Spain and
Portugal were now angrily threatening to have the Pope--who, with equal
warmth, accused Isabella herself of unchastity--tried by a General
Council for his scandalous actions, and he and Cæsar formed the design
of establishing, with the aid of the French, a strong principality
for Cæsar in central Italy. The Neapolitan alliance was discarded,
and Bulls were issued to the effect that the Lords of Rimini, Pesaro,
Imola, Faenza, Forli, Urbino, and Camerino had failed to discharge
their feudal duties to the Papacy and had forfeited their fiefs. The
victorious progress of Cæsar in these territories was checked for a
time by a revolt at Milan, but that city was retaken by the French in
1500. The successful Jubilee of 1500, which at one time drew 100,000
pilgrims to Rome, filled the coffers and helped to exalt the spirit
of the Pope. His character, indeed, seemed to become more buoyant and
defiant as his age advanced. During that year he had a narrow escape
from death, owing to the fall of the roof of the Sala de' Pape, and
Lucrezia's husband was cut to pieces in his chamber by the soldiers,
and at the command, of Cæsar. These events hardly dimmed the joy of
the Pope. Cæsar received the Golden Rose and was made Gonfaloniere
of the Church; and he was permitted to appropriate a large share of
the Jubilee funds and to exact large sums from the cardinals whom
the Pope promoted in 1500. Meantime, the ambassadors relate, Giulia
Orsini retained her influence over the seventy-year old Pope, and other
_favorite_ made a transient appearance at the Vatican.
The next two years were employed in the establishment of Cæsar's power
in Romagna and the reduction of the Pope's personal enemies. Louis of
France and Ferdinand of Spain drew up their famous, or infamous, scheme
for the partition of Naples, and Alexander conveniently discovered
for them, and proclaimed in a Bull, that Federigo of Naples had, by
an alliance with the Turks, become a traitor to Christendom. The
fall of Naples involved the ruin of the Colonna, and they and the
Savelli were condemned to lose their estates for rebellion against
the Holy See. From part of these estates the Pope formed the duchy of
Sermoneta for Lucrezia's two-year-old son, Rodrigo, and the duchy of
Nepi was bestowed on his own infant son Juan. Alexander next turned
his attention to Ferrara, and, when Venice and Florence forbade him
to attack it, he arranged a marriage of the widowed Lucrezia with
the Duke's son Alfonso: overcoming the abhorrence of the proud Este
family by the influence of Louis XII. and by a grant to the Duke of all
Church-dues in Ferrara for three years. From Ferrara, when it fell to
his sister, Cæsar would have a comparatively easy march on Bologna, if
not Florence.
So the year 1501 ended in such rejoicings as the fortune of the Borgia
family inspired. At the date October 11, 1501, Burchard dispassionately
notes in his diary that the Pope was unable to attend to his spiritual
duties, but was not prevented from enjoying, in the Vatican, a
"chestnut dance" and other performances of fifty nude courtesans whom
Cæsar introduced.[283] Lucrezia, whose purity some recent writers
are eager to vindicate, was present with her father and brother. On
December 30th she was married. Alexander gave her the finest set of
pearls in Europe and 100,000 ducats; and for a week Rome enjoyed such
spectacles and bull-fights as had not been seen for years. Within the
Vatican such comedies as the _Menæchmi_ of Plautus were enacted before
the Pope and his family and cardinals. Even tolerant Italy now broke
into caustic criticisms, and Cæsar replied vigorously by the daggers of
his followers. The Pope genially urged him to let men talk.
The last phase is, in its way, not less repulsive. By heartless
treachery and brilliant fighting Cæsar spread his sway over central
Italy and Alexander watched and spurred his progress. The Pope's
attendants had to endure unaccustomed fits of anger and abuse when his
son did not advance rapidly enough. He treacherously arrested Cardinal
Orsini; and the Cardinal's aged mother, who was ejected from her
palace, had to send to the Pope (by Orsini's mistress) a magnificent
pearl which Alexander coveted before she was allowed to provide her
son with decent food. Cardinal Orsini died, and his property was
confiscated. Cardinal Michiel died, and his fortune of 150,000 ducats
was appropriated. The College of Cardinals trembled and the famous
legend of the Borgia poison spread over Italy.[284] Nine new cardinals,
mostly of unworthy character, were created and are said to have paid
130,000 ducats for the dignity, and 64,000 ducats were raised by
inventing new offices in the Curia. Alexander, although seventy-two
years old, was in robust health, and looked forward to years of
pleasure under the protection of his victorious son. And one night in
the unhealthy heat of August (the 5th or 6th) he and Cæsar sat late
at supper with Cardinal Adriano da Corneto. Romance has it that the
poisoned wine they intended for their host was served to them: modern
history is content with the known malaria of an autumn night.[285] On
August 18th Alexander died, and both Cæsar and Cardinal Adriano were
seriously ill.
Of other actions of Alexander his connexion with Savonarola alone
demands some consideration, and it must be treated briefly. On July
25, 1495, Alexander, in friendly terms, summoned Savonarola to Rome
to give an account of the prophetic gifts he claimed. Alexander was
very tolerant of criticisms of his vices, except where they might
provoke kings to summon a council, and it is probable that he wished
to silence the politician rather than the preacher; Savonarola
vigorously supported the idea of an alliance of Florence with France,
which the Pope opposed. Savonarola evaded the summons to Rome, and
the Pope suspended him from preaching and endeavoured to destroy his
authority by joining the San Marco convent to the Lombard Congregation.
Savonarola defeated the Pope on the latter point, and on February 11,
1496, he returned to his pulpit, in defiance of the Pope's order and
at the command of the Signoria of Florence. In explanation of his act
he urged that Alexander's Brief was based on false information and
invalid, and he denounced Roman corruption more freely than ever.
Alexander, in November, directed that a new congregation should be
formed out of the Roman and Tuscan convents,[286] and when Savonarola
and his monks again defeated the project, the Pope had recourse to
secular measures.
A mind like that of the exalted and feverish preacher was not likely
to escape error and exaggeration in such circumstances, and his
opponents in Florence made progress. Alexander now offered the coveted
possession of Pisa to the Signoria if they would desert Savonarola
and the idea of a French alliance. The monk was forbidden by the
authorities to preach, and his defiance of the Signoria as well as the
Papacy led to disorders of which the Pope took advantage to publish a
sentence of excommunication (June 18, 1497). Alexander had meantime
again listened to entreaties of delay and inquiry, but when he heard
that the monk defied his anathema he said that the sentence must take
its course. Up to this point the Pope had, in view of the very strong
support which Savonarola had at Florence, proceeded with moderation,
though we may resent the insincerity of his attack; it was not the
prophecies, but the policy and the puritanism, of Savonarola which
interested him. He complained bitterly to the Florentine ambassadors of
Savonarola's attacks on himself and the cardinals, and was, as always,
alarmed by the monk's demand of a General Council. However, the monk,
not realizing the progress made by his enemies, struck a louder note
of defiance, and on the plea of the public disorders to which he gave
rise, he was arrested and put on trial. Alexander willingly granted
the authorities a tithe on the ecclesiastical property at Florence
when they announced the arrest. The sensitive monk was, by torture,
driven into some vague disavowal of his supernatural pretensions, and
he and two other friars were, on May 23, 1498, hanged by the Florentine
authorities as "heretics, schismatics, and contemners of the Holy
See." The sentence, however corruptly obtained, was technically just,
since in the legislation of the time contumacious defiance of the
Papacy implied heresy; but the respective positions of Savonarola and
Alexander VI. in the history of religious progress are a sufficient
monument to the bravery and inflexibility of the great Florentine
puritan.
There are few good deeds to be put in the scale against the crimes and
vices of Alexander VI. He made a considerable, though futile, effort
to rouse Christendom against the advancing Turks. He fortified Sant'
Angelo, and engaged Pinturicchio to decorate the Vatican apartments.
He pressed the propagation of the faith in the New World, ordered the
examination and authorization of printed books, endeavoured to check
heresy in Bohemia, and vigorously defended the rights of the Church
in the Netherlands. These things cannot alter our estimate of his
character. He was a selfish voluptuary of--in view of his position--the
most ignoble type; he countenanced and employed fraud, treachery, and
crime; and the condition in which we shall soon find the Papacy will
show that his policy had not the redeeming merit of effecting the
security of the institution over which he ignominiously presided.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 271: The letter is given in Raynaldus, _Annales
Ecclesiastici_, year 1460, n. 31, and is translated in Bishop Mathew's
_Life and Times of Rodrigo Borgia_ (1912), p. 35. It is misrepresented
in Baron Corvo's _Chronicles of the House of Borgia_ (1901, p. 64).
The chief apologist for Alexander, A. Leonetti (_Papa Alessandro VI._,
1880), made the easy suggestion that the letter was a forgery, but
Cardinal Hergenroether found the original in the Vatican archives.
See the able essay by Comte H. de L'Épinois (another Catholic writer)
in the _Revue des Questions Historiques_ (April 1, 1881), p. 367. He
shows, by the use of original documents, that the apologetic efforts
of Ollivier, Leonetti, and a few others, are futile. Of these efforts
the leading Catholic historian of the Papacy, Dr. L. Pastor, observes:
"In the face of such a perversion of the truth, it is the duty of the
historian to show that the evidence against Rodrigo is so strong as to
render it impossible to restore his reputation" (_The History of the
Popes_, ii., 542).]
[Footnote 272: The decisive documents, from the archives of the Duke of
Ossuna, are published by Thuasne in his edition of Burchard's _Diarium_
(Appendix to vol. iii.). Dr. Pastor (ii., 453) has a good summary
of them, and there is other evidence in the _Lucrezia Borgia_ of
Gregorovius. See also the essay of Comte H. de L'Épinois, quoted above,
and "Don Rodrigo de Borja und seine Söhne," by C.R. von Höfler, in the
_Denkschriften der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften_, Bd. 73.
The chief original authorities are J. Burchard (_Diarium_, edited by
Thuasne, 3 vols., 1884) and S. Infessura (_Diario_, in Muratori, iii.),
and the despatches of the Italian ambassadors at Rome. Burchard and
Infessura are gossipy and hostile, and must be controlled. Recent works
on the Borgias are too apt to reproduce lightly the romantic statements
of later Italian historians or contemporary Neapolitan enemies. The
work of Bishop Mathew, to which I have referred, is less judicious than
his volume on Hildebrand. Bishop Creighton's _History of the Papacy_
is rather too indulgent to Alexander and needs supplementing by the
documents in Pastor and Thuasne.]
[Footnote 273: M. Brosch, the scholarly author of a study of Julius
II. (_Papst Julius II._, 1878), observes that research in the Rovere
archives has discovered no trace of the Paolo Riario who is assigned
as the father of Sixtus's nephews, and concludes that they were his
natural sons. But Paolo Riario is expressly mentioned in the funeral
oration on Cardinal Pietro Riario, and is more fully described in Leone
Cobelli's _Cronache Forlivesi_. There is no sound reason to impeach the
chastity of this Pope, as even Creighton does.]
[Footnote 274: The gold ducat is estimated at about ten shillings of
English money, but probably this does not express its full purchasing
power.]
[Footnote 275: See the dispatches quoted in Thuasne's Burchard, vol.
ii.]
[Footnote 276: I may repeat that I am not reproducing disputed
statements, or relying on uncertain chronicles, in these chapters. The
evidence may be examined in Thuasne, Pastor, L'Épinois, Creighton,
Gregorovius, and von Reumont (_Geschichte der Stadt Rom_, 3 vols.,
1867-8).]
[Footnote 277: See the evidence in Thuasne (ii., 610), L'Épinois (pp.
389-91), and Pastor (v., 382). A writer in the _American Catholic
Quarterly Review_ (1900, p. 262) observes: "That Borgia secured his
election through the rankest simony is a fact too well authenticated to
admit a doubt."]
[Footnote 278: Again I may refer to the convenient summaries of the
evidence in Pastor (v., 417), L'Épinois (398), Gregorovius (Appendix,
no. 11, etc.), and Creighton (iv., 203).]
[Footnote 279: There are copies, reproduced by Gregorovius, in the
archives at the Vatican, at Modena, and at Ossuna.]
[Footnote 280: _Diarii_ (ed. F. Stefani), i., 369.]
[Footnote 281: Alexander said that the letter published was a forgery,
and some historians have sought to prove this by internal evidence. It
is the general feeling of recent authorities that the letter is, at
least in substance, genuine. See Creighton (iv., Appendix 9) and Pastor
(v., 429).]
[Footnote 282: Djem died shortly afterwards, and it was rumoured that
Alexander had earned the 300,000 ducats by administering a slow poison
before he left Rome. But the better authorities tell us that the
weakened and dissolute youth contracted a chill and died of bronchitis.]
[Footnote 283: _Diarium_, iii., 167. The details of this dance,
which Burchard describes, and of the orgy which followed, may not
be translated. It is absurd to question Burchard's evidence on this
matter; he was then Master of Ceremonies at the Papal Court and
describes every move of the Pope. The Papal servants took part in the
performance, and he could easily learn the details. The Florentine and
other ambassadors speak of Cæsar repeatedly introducing these women
into the Vatican at night.]
[Footnote 284: There is, as Pastor and Creighton admit, grave reason to
think that Orsini and Michiel were poisoned, but charges of this kind
are difficult to check, and certainly there is a good deal of romance
in the Borgia legend. The death-rate of cardinals under Alexander was
not more than normal. See Baron Corvo's _Chronicles of the House of
Borgia_ (1901), and R. Sabatini's _Life of Cesare Borgia_ (1911).]
[Footnote 285: The poison theory is not mentioned by Burchard or the
chief ambassadors, and is positively advanced only by Neapolitan or
later writers. No historian seems now to entertain it. Alexander's
illness, which lasted thirteen days, followed a course more consistent
with malaria, and the very rapid decomposition of his body, which seems
to have impressed Lord Acton, is not inexplicable at that season.]
[Footnote 286: Savonarola was head of the Tuscan Congregation of the
Dominican Order, and these proposals--which were inspired by jealous
colleagues at Rome--aimed at putting him under a new and hostile
jurisdiction.]
CHAPTER XIII
JULIUS II.: THE FIGHTING POPE
The single merit which sober historians award to Alexander VI. is that,
in forming a powerful principality for his son in central Italy, he was
re-establishing the States of the Church and ensuring the protection
of the Papacy. The course of events after his death prevents us from
acknowledging this claim, and Alexander himself must have been well
aware that Cæsar Borgia would, if his State endured, protect the Papacy
only on condition that he might continue to dominate it. He told
Machiavelli that he had made ample preparation to secure his position
at the death of his father, but his own illness wrecked his plans. This
is untrue. He was quite able to direct his servants and at his father's
death they began to enforce his blustering policy. Some forced their
way, at the point of the dagger, to the Papal treasury, and carried off
the money and plate left by the Pope: leaving his enormous debts to his
successor. Others sought to intimidate the cardinals. But Cæsar's power
in the North at once began to crumble, his enemies gathered in force
from all sides, and he was defeated. The cardinals would not assemble
until his troops, and those of France, Spain, and Venice, withdrew from
Rome.
The chief contest in the Conclave, which began on September 16th, lay
between the French Cardinal D'Amboise and Giuliano della Rovere, who
returned from Avignon. Neither could secure the necessary majority,
and Cardinal Piccolomini, nephew of Pius II., was chosen to occupy the
throne until a stronger man could prevail. The more luxurious cardinals
may have smiled at the rejoicing with which reformers greeted the
aged and virtuous Pius III., for they knew that he suffered from an
incurable malady. He died, in fact, ten days after his coronation, or
on October 18th, and the struggle was renewed. Giuliano della Rovere
now pushed his ambition with equal energy and unscrupulousness. He
promised Cæsar Borgia, who controlled the extensive Spanish vote, that
he would respect his possessions and make him Gonfaloniere of the
Church[287]; he distributed money among the cardinal-voters; he agreed
to the capitulation that whoever was elected should summon a council
for the purpose of reform within two years, and should not make war on
any Power without the consent of two thirds of the cardinals. He worked
so well that the Conclave, which met on October 31st, was one of the
shortest in the history of the Papacy. Within three hours the sealed
window was broken open and the election of Julius II. was announced.
We have in the last chapter followed the romantic early career of
Giuliano della Rovere. He was born on December 5, 1443, at Albizzola,
near Savona, of a poor and obscure family. His uncle, being first a
professor and then General of the Franciscan Order, sent him to be
educated in one of the monasteries of that Order. Some historians
strangely doubt whether he actually took the religious vows, but it
was assuredly not the custom of the friars to keep young men in their
monasteries to the age of twenty-eight unless they were members of
the fraternity. At that age (in 1471) Fra Giuliano and his cousin Fra
Pietro heard that their uncle had become Sixtus IV., and they were
raised to the cardinalate.
Giuliano did not emulate the vices which carried off his younger cousin
within two years. He "lived much as the other prelates of that day
did," says Guicciardini, in a sober estimate of his character, and his
three known daughters confirm the great historian of the time; but
he kept a comparatively moderate palace and spent money on a refined
patronage of art and culture. He displayed some military talent when
he commanded the Papal troops in Umbria in 1474, and afterwards served
as Legate in France (1476) and the Netherlands (1480). He, as we saw,
maintained his position after his uncle's death by corruptly ensuring
the election of Innocent VIII. and exercising a paramount influence
over that Pontiff. His power inflamed the animosity of his rivals, and
at the accession of Alexander VI. he was driven from Italy. From his
quiet retreat in Avignon he instigated the French monarch to invade
Italy and depose Alexander, and, when Alexander gracefully disarmed
Charles, Giuliano returned in disgust to Avignon. It is true that
in 1499 he rendered some service to Alexander, in connexion with
Cæsar's marriage, but he felt it safer to remain in Avignon until
the announcement of Alexander's death recalled his many enemies to
Rome.[288]
In 1503, at the date of his election, Julius II. had long outlived his
early irregularities, and had no personal vices beyond a fiery temper
and a taste for wine which his enemies magnified into a scandal. The
familiar portrait by Raphael brings him closer to us than any of the
Pontiffs whom we have yet considered. He was then in his sixtieth year,
with a scanty sprinkling of grey locks on his massive head, and with an
aspect of energy and determination which must have been lessened by the
long white beard he grew in later life. Though troubled--like most of
the Popes of this period--with gout, he was still erect and dignified,
and the cardinals, who had hardly seen him for ten years, can have had
little suspicion of the volcanic fires which were concealed by his
habitual silence and quiet enjoyment of culture. They soon learned
that they had created a master, and they lamented that he united the
manners of a peasant with the vigour of a soldier. He consulted none,
and he lavished epithets on those who lingered in the execution of his
commands. Yet this brusque and abusive soldier was destined, not merely
to place the Papal States on a surer foundation than ever, but to do
far more even than Leo X. for the artistic enhancement of Rome.
The supreme aim which Julius held in view from the beginning of
his Pontificate was the restoration of the Papal possessions, but I
may dismiss first the actions or events which have a more personal
relation. He heard or said mass daily, and paid a strict regard to
his ecclesiastical duties. He reorganized the administration of the
city and the Campagna, suppressed disorder, purified the tribunals,
reformed the coinage, and in many other respects corrected the vices of
his predecessor, whom he had loathed. These _marañas_ (half-converted
Spanish Jews), as he called the Borgias, had fouled Italy with their
presence. He improved the Papal table, which had been singularly
poor under Alexander, but the vicious parasites whom Alexander had
encouraged now shrank from the Vatican. At first he indulged the
characteristic Papal weakness, nepotism. At his first Consistory
(November 29, 1503) two of the four cardinals promoted were members
of his family--his uncle and nephew--and two years later he married
his natural daughter Felicia to one of the Orsini, his niece Lucrezia
to one of the Colonna, and his nephew Niccolò della Rovere to Giulia
Orsini's daughter Laura. One cannot say, as some historians do,
that he was no nepotist; though one may admit that, in the words of
Guicciardini, "he did not carry nepotism beyond due bounds." To the
obligations he had contracted in bargaining for the Papacy he was quite
unscrupulously blind, and, although he issued a drastic Bull against
simony in 1505 (January 14th), his grand plans imposed on him such an
expenditure that he even increased the sale of offices and indulgences
until the annual income of the Papacy rose to 350,000 ducats.
Julius at once made it plain that he was not only determined to
recover the Papal States, but would override any moral obligation or
sentimental prejudice in the pursuit of his object. The treasury was
empty, and he had contracted, at the price of several Spanish votes,
to respect the person and possessions of Cæsar Borgia. But Venice had
encouraged the petty lords of Romagna to recover the places which Cæsar
had wrested from them, and itself had designs on some of the towns.
Grasping the pretext that the whole of Romagna was thus in danger,
Julius summoned Cæsar to surrender the remaining strongholds to the
Church. When Cæsar refused, he found himself a prisoner of the Pope,
instead of Gonfaloniere of his troops, and he seems to have been dazed
by the sudden collapse of his brilliant fortune. Spain withdrew the
Spanish mercenaries from Cæsar's service, Venice occupied Faenza and
Rimini, and most of his towns cast off their enforced allegiance.
After a futile struggle with the Pope the fallen prince surrendered to
Julius his three remaining towns--Cesena, Forli, and Bertinoro--and was
allowed to retire to Naples. There, at the treacherous instigation of
the Pope,[289] he was arrested and sent to Spain. He escaped from Spain
two years afterwards, and died in 1507, fighting in a petty war on a
foreign soil.
Venice, now at the height of her power and flushed with wealth and
conquest, paid little heed when, in the winter of 1503-4, Julius made
repeated demands for the restoration of the places she had seized in
Romagna. She had, she said, not taken them from the Church, and the
Church would, if she restored them, hand them to some other "nephew."
The Venetian ambassador at Rome seems to have miscalculated entirely
the energy of the Pope, and Venice probably thought that her support
of his candidature and his lack of troops and resources promised a
profitable compromise; nor can we wonder if statesmen failed at times
to see the justice of the Roman contention, that seizure by the sword
was a legitimate title in princes who gave cities to the Church but
wholly invalid in princes who took them from the Church. Venice offered
to pay tribute for the towns which had been Papal fiefs. This Julius
sharply refused, and he appealed to France, Spain, and the Emperor to
assist him. Toward the close of the year (September 22, 1504) Louis
and Maximilian concluded an agreement at Blois to join Julius against
Venice, but a quarrel destroyed the compact, and Julius had again to
deal with Venice. The Venetians surrendered all but Faenza and Rimini,
and Julius, with a protest that the retention of these towns was
unjustified, resumed amicable relations with them.
The Pope's next move has won the admiration of many historians, though
it has prompted so liberal a judge as Creighton to exclaim that "his
cynical consciousness of political wrong-doing" is "as revolting as
the frank unscrupulousness of Alexander VI." During the period of
disintegration of the Papal States the Baglioni had mastered Perugia
and the Bentivogli had taken possession of Bologna. Julius had at his
accession confirmed the position at Bologna, but in the spring of
1506 he resolved to recover both cities. France and Spain hesitated
to lend their aid for this project, and on August 26th he impetuously
ended the slow negotiations by sending a peremptory order to France
to assist him and setting out at the head of his troops. With only
five hundred horse--though he had sent on an envoy to engage Swiss
mercenaries--Julius and nine of his cardinals set out on the long
march to Perugia. At Orvieto his anxiety found some relief. Giampaolo
Baglione, realizing the force which the Pope would eventually command,
came to surrender Perugia, and at the beginning of September Julius
sang a solemn mass in the Franciscan convent at Perugia which had
once been his home. His energy was now fully aroused, in spite of
the discouragement of the word sent by Louis XII. It is said that he
already talked of leading his valiant troops against the Turks when
he had settled the affairs of Italy. He crossed the hills, in bleak
early-winter weather, in spite of gout, at the head of his 2500 men,
and boldly sent on to Bentivoglio a sentence of excommunication and
interdict. Bentivoglio--more deeply moved by the approach of 4000
French soldiers--fled, and, again without striking a blow, the Pope
entered Bologna in triumph on November 11th.[290] After spending five
months in the reorganization of government he returned to Rome on March
28th (1507) and enjoyed a magnificent ovation. It may give a juster
idea of his mental power to add that he had already (on April 18, 1506)
laid the first stone of the new St. Peter's designed on so vast a scale
by Bramante.
Three months after his return to Rome Julius had fresh and grave reason
for anxiety. France and Spain had composed their differences, and in
June of that year Ferdinand was to sail from Naples to meet the French
King at Savona. Julius moved down to Ostia to greet him, and must have
been profoundly disturbed when the galley conveying Ferdinand and
his young French wife passed the port without a word. He would hear
that the two Kings held long and secret conferences at Savona, and
that among the five cardinals with them was D'Amboise, Louis's chief
minister, who still hungered for the tiara of which Julius had robbed
him. There had for some time been bad news from France. Louis was
reported as saying: "The Rovere are a peasant family; nothing but the
stick on his back will keep the Pope in order." Julius sent Cardinal
Pallavicino to Savona, but he was not admitted to the counsels of the
monarchs. It was rumoured that they meditated the reform of the Church:
which meant a council and an inquiry into the election of Julius II.
Papal diplomacy, which, when Papal interests were endangered, never
considered "Italian independence," for a moment now dictated an
alliance with the Emperor-elect, Maximilian, who had himself proposed
to come to Rome for his coronation. There are vague indications that
that dreamy monarch already entertained the idea of uniting the tiara
with the imperial crown on his own head.[291] However that may be,
Julius sent Cardinal Carvajal to dissuade him from coming to Rome,
to bring about an alliance of the Christian Powers against the Turks
(which would disarm Ferdinand and Louis as regards Julius), and to
enter into a special alliance with France and Germany against Venice.
The Papal envoy Aretini told the Venetian envoy that, when the danger
to Italy from an alliance of Louis and Maximilian was pointed out,
Julius exclaimed: "Perish the whole of Italy provided I get my
way."[292] The proposal was, at all events, treacherous; for both
Julius and Maximilian had treaties of peace with Venice. But the age of
which Machiavelli has codified the guiding principles was insensible
to considerations of political honesty. Maximilian attacked Venice and
was defeated, because she had the support of France. Then France was
poisoned against the prosperous Republic, and the League of Cambrai was
formed on December 10, 1508: Maximilian, Louis, and Ferdinand entered
into a secret alliance for the destruction of Venice, and the Pope, as
well as the Kings of England and Hungary, were invited to join in the
act of brigandage.
It is clear that Julius hesitated for some months to join the League;
though his hesitation was probably due to some anxiety at the prospect
of seeing the victorious armies of France and Germany in Italy once
more. He tried to induce the Venetians to restore Faenza and Rimini
to him and merit his protection. When they refused, he joined the
League (March 23d) and put his spiritual censure on the Venetians.
The campaign occupied only a few weeks, and the vast territory of the
Republic was divided among the conquerors, the Pope receiving Ravenna
and Cervia as well as Faenza and Rimini. But the ill fortune and
anxiety of Venice promised him further gains if he would break faith
with his allies and deal separately with the Republic. To preserve the
remnants of their territory the Venetians approached the Pope. At first
he exacted formidable sacrifices, and, when they refused and importuned
him, he went to his palace at Civita Vecchia to enjoy the rest, if not
the pleasures, which Roman gossip so darkly misrepresented.[293] He
perceived, however, that the annihilation of Venice would endanger his
own security, and in time he accepted the evacuation of Romagna and the
abandonment of the Venetian exercise of authority over the clergy.
Louis XII. learned with great indignation in the summer of 1509 that
Julius had not only withdrawn from the League of Cambrai, but was now
endeavouring to form a league with Venice, Ferdinand, Maximilian, and
Henry VIII. against himself. Henry and Maximilian refused to join, but
Julius engaged fifteen thousand Swiss and added these to the Papal and
Venetian troops. As the Duke of Ferrara was leagued with the French
against Venice, and refused to follow the Pope's political example,
Julius issued against him an anathema which a writer of the time
describes as making his hair stand on end, and resolved to add Ferrara
to the growing Papal States. In August he set out once more, dressed in
simple rochet, with the troops, and made the tiring march to Bologna.
There his great plans nearly came to a premature end. The Swiss failed
him, and the French appeared in force before Bologna, where he lay
seriously ill and greatly disedifying his attendants by the vehemence
of his rage. No doubt his threats of suicide, which are recorded,
were merely vague and rhetorical expressions of his despair. He saved
himself, however, by a deceptive negotiation with the French commander
until his reinforcements arrived, and, as his health recovered, his
vigorous resolution became almost ferocious. The long white beard in
Raphael's portrait of him reminds us how, at this time, he swore that
he would not shave again until he had driven the French from Italy.
Louis was now taking practical steps toward the summoning of a General
Council, and the temper of the Pope was terrible to witness. In the
depth of winter, not yet wholly recovered from his long fever, he
rejoined the troops, sharing the hardships of camp-life and stormily
scolding his generals for their slowness. He never led troops on the
field, but he interfered in the placing of artillery and more than once
exposed himself to fire. At the capitulation of Mirandola he shocked
his cardinals by ordering that any foreign soldiers found in the town
should be put to the sword.
He spent some months thus passing from town to town, infusing his fiery
energy into the troops, but his successes and his personal conduct of
the war inflamed the indignation of the French King. Louis not only
sent reinforcements to his army, but he, with his adherent cardinals,
arranged for the holding of a General Council on Italian soil. _Perdam
Babylonis Nomen_ ("I will erase the very name of Babylon") was the
terrible motto he now placed on his medals. In quick succession the
Pope learned that the Bentivogli had recovered Bologna and derisively
broken into fragments the magnificent statue of Julius which Michael
Angelo had erected: that his favourite Cardinal Alidosi had been
assassinated by his (the Pope's) nephew and commander the Duke of
Urbino; and that Louis and Maximilian, with the seceded cardinals, had
announced a General Council of the Church at Pisa and summoned Julius
II. to appear before it.
The attendants who marched by the Pope's closed litter, as he returned
to Rome on June 26, 1511, concluded from his unrestrained sobs and
groans that his power, if not his life, approached its end. His health
was ruined and his troops were scattered. But there was an energy
mightier than that of Hildebrand in his worn frame, and with some
improvement in his condition he raised his head once more. He had in
the spring created eight new cardinals, to replace the seceders, and
he now announced that a _real_ Ecumenical Council would assemble at
the Lateran on April 19, 1512. That was his answer to Pisa, and to
the Papal aspirations of the Cardinal of Rouen and the Emperor-elect.
He again fell dangerously ill--so ill that his death was confidently
expected. Election-intrigue filled the corridors of the Vatican, and
a band of democrats held a meeting in the Capitol and decided, at his
death, to restore the republican liberty of Rome. In a few weeks the
terrible old man rose from his bed, thin and white but with unbroken
energy, and scattered the intriguers. He anathematized the schismatical
cardinals, and announced (October 4th) that he had formed a Holy League
with Ferdinand of Spain and Venice for the defence of the Church;
Maximilian was presently induced to join the League, and before the end
of 1511 Henry VIII. was persuaded, by a promise of assistance in his
designs on France, to give it his adhesion. Only three months before
Julius had apparently lain at the point of death, his new possessions
utterly ruined. Now he once more commanded the situation. The
schismatical Council of Pisa, which opened on November 1st, turned out
a puny French _conciliabulum_, with fourteen bishops and five abbots to
represent the universal Church.
The campaign which began in January need not be followed in detail.
After a series of varying engagements the French won a crushing victory
at Ravenna, and there was panic at Rome. The cardinals demanded peace
with France, but Giulio de' Medici, cousin of Cardinal Giovanni, who
had been captured by the French, now came to describe the exhausted
condition of the French army, and Julius resolved to prosecute the war.
He opened his General Council at the Lateran on May 3rd, and had at
least the satisfaction of seeing seventy Italian bishops respond to his
summons. Then, covering his preparations by a pretence of considering
the terms which Louis XII. offered him, he engaged further troops,
fired his commanders, and induced Maximilian to withdraw the four
thousand Tirolese mercenaries from the French ranks. In a few weeks
the French were driven out of Italy, the schismatics were forced to
transfer their discredited Council to French soil, and the Pope found
himself master of Bologna, Ravenna, Rimini, Cesena, Parma, Piacenza,
and Reggio. In appraising Julius as founder of the Papal States one
must bear in mind the history of this remarkable period. In October,
1511, Julius was stricken and apparently ruined; by the summer of 1512
he was master of the richest provinces of Italy. But he had not left
Rome, and his personal action at this juncture was slight in comparison
with those tremendous earlier exertions which had ended in disastrous
failure.
Julius was far from satisfied, and his conduct in the hour of victory
was at the low political level of the time. He assisted the Medici to
impose themselves again on Florence, and the Sforza to recover Milan.
He then made a lamentable effort to secure Ferrara. The Duke came to
Rome, under a safe-conduct of the Papal General Fabrizio Colonna,
and of the Spanish ambassador, to plead that he had acted only in
honourable discharge of his engagements to France, Julius had approved
the safe-conduct, but when the Duke refused to surrender his territory
to the Church, the Pope affected to discover that he had committed
crimes not covered by the safe-conduct and detained him. The Colonna
redeemed the credit of Italy by cutting their way through the Papal
guards and restoring Alfonso, after romantic adventures, to his duchy.
When the poet Ariosto was afterwards sent by Alfonso to make peace
with the Pope, he had to fly for his life; Julius, in one of his now
frequent outbursts of violence, threatened to have him thrown into the
sea.
To the end Julius pursued his tortuous diplomacy. Neither Spain nor
Germany wished to see any increase of his power, and he was forced to
abandon his designs on Ferrara. He then disrupted his Holy League,
and made a fresh alliance with Maximilian against Venice and to the
disadvantage of Spain. Julius was concerned about the growing power
of Spain in Italy; and we shall hardly be unjust if we suspect that,
as Alexander VI. had done, he dreamed of adding Naples to the Papal
dominion. But he never entirely recovered his health, and his great
schemes were closed by death on February 20, 1513. He was neither
a great soldier nor a great statesman. There is no indication that
his interference in the military operations was useful, and, as I
pointed out, the one permanently successful campaign was fought
while he directed an ecclesiastical Council at Rome. In the sphere
of politics and diplomacy he relied on cunning and deceit rather
than statesmanship, and, if he had not represented a spiritual power
to which the nations were bound to return in the end, he would have
been mercilessly crushed. He had, also, little ability to organize
such possessions as he obtained, and his career is marred by violent
outbursts and acts of treachery and cruelty. It is sometimes said that
he was the greatest Pope since Innocent III. One imagines the shade
of that great spiritual ruler shuddering; and one is disposed to agree
with Guicciardini that, if Julius was great, a new meaning must be put
on the word. He had wonderful energy, and by good fortune his aim was
finally attained.
In view of this strenuous campaign for the recovery of the Papal
States, we can expect only a slender record of strictly Pontifical
work. Julius attended to the propagation of the faith in the new lands
beyond the seas, and he impelled the Inquisitors to check the spread
of heresy. That he restrained the Spanish Inquisition, and supported
its exclusion from Naples, was not due to humane feeling, but to its
exorbitant claims of independent authority. He forbade duelling, and
endowed a college of singing for the maintenance of the Papal Choir.
His Lateran Council was, of course, a political expedient, but there
is evidence that when death closed his career Julius was turning more
seriously to plans of reform. In spite of his own Bull against simony,
the Curia remained as corrupt as ever, and money was raised in all the
evil ways known to it. It is, however, curious and creditable to have
to place one great reform to the merit of Julius. He passed so drastic
a decree against corruption at Papal elections that the rivals who
gathered in Rome after his death did not dare to employ bribery.
Julius is probably most deserving of esteem for his artistic work. The
literary parasites who swarmed about his successor have associated the
glory of late mediæval Rome with the name of Leo X., but discriminating
research is convincing historians that Leo did not even sustain the
great work of his predecessor. The bold scheme which Julius adopted
was due to his artists rather than to his own inspiration, yet he has
the distinction--no mean distinction for one immersed, as he was, in
an exacting policy--of reflecting at once the vast ideas which were
put before him. The new St. Peter's which he was compelled to think of
building was not intended at first to be of great dimensions, but he
accepted Bramante's design of a church far larger even than the St.
Peter's of today, and, in spite of his costly wars, he enabled the
architect to employ 2500 workers. He accepted Bramante's designs for a
new Vatican and for the Cortile di Damaso. He engaged Michael Angelo to
carve a princely marble tomb for himself--his one great luxury--and,
when his interest was transferred to the less selfish task of building
St. Peter's, he set the artist to the execution of his immortal work
on the roof of the Sistine Chapel. Michael Angelo made also, as I have
noted, a great statue of Julius at Bologna, but this was destroyed at
the return of the Bentivogli. There were many quarrels between the two
men, but Michael Angelo found in Julius a manliness and a greatness of
conception, if not a feeling for art, the lack of which he bitterly
criticized in Leo X.
Cristoforo Romano, Sansovino, Perugino, Signorelli, Pinturicchio,
and other great artists were enlisted in the work of making the
ecclesiastical quarter of Rome the artistic centre of the world. Some
of the finest of the old Greek sculptures which were then being sought
in the rubbish of mediæval Italy were bought for the Belvidere, and
painters of distinction were richly encouraged. New frescoes and new
tombs were ordered in the churches of Rome; the walls and aqueducts
were repaired; handsome new streets were laid out; and the cardinals
and wealthier citizens were moved to co-operate with the Pontiff in his
plans for the exaltation of Rome. We may deplore that the money for
these plans was largely obtained by the sale of spiritual offices and
indulgences, and we must resent the fact that money obtained by these
means was diverted to the purposes of war. But the magnificence of
the design and the generosity with which Julius prosecuted it as long
as he lived seem to be a more solid and enduring merit than his good
fortune--for in the decisive stage it was little more--in recovering
a rich dominion which would but serve to enhance the frivolity of his
successor.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 287: Burchard, _Diarium_, iii., 293.]
[Footnote 288: Guicciardini's _Storia d'Italia_ and Burchard's
_Diarium_ are the chief authorities, supplemented by the dispatches
of the Italian ambassadors. There is a slight and somewhat antiquated
biography by M.A.J. Dumesnil (_Histoire de Jules II._, 1873) and an
abler study by M. Brosch (_Papst Julius II._, 1878). J.F. Loughlin
has a candid account, chiefly based on Brosch, of his early career in
_The American Catholic Quarterly Review_. Special treatises will be
noticed in the course of the chapter, but there is little dispute about
the facts I give. Full references will be found in the very ample,
if somewhat lenient, study of Dr. Pastor (vi.), and in the works of
Creighton, Gregorovius, and von Reumont.]
[Footnote 289: Pastor (vi., 244) quotes from the Vatican archives a
letter in which Julius urges the Spanish commander at Naples to arrest
Cæsar.]
[Footnote 290: The date was fixed by the astrologers, but Burchard
says that, in order to show his contempt for their science, Julius
unceremoniously entered the town on the previous day. He acted more
probably from sheer impatience. More than one event during his
Pontificate, including his coronation on November 26, 1503, was
arranged by the astrologers.]
[Footnote 291: See A. Schulte, _Kaiser Maximilian I. als Kandidat für
den Papstlichen Stuhl_ (1906). The point is disputed.]
[Footnote 292: Quoted by Brosch, p. 333.]
[Footnote 293: Priuli (_Diario_, ii., 102) says that Romans spoke of
his "Ganymedes."]
CHAPTER XIV
LEO X. AND THE DANCE OF DEATH
When Julius II. made his last survey of the world in which he had
played so vigorous a part, he must have concluded that he had placed
the Papacy on a foundation more solid than any that had yet supported
it. The Conciliar movement, its most threatening enemy in the mind of
the Popes, had been discredited by the failure of its latest effort
and by the naked ambitions of those who supported it. The princes
of the world had proved less stubborn than in the days of the early
Emperors, and the Papacy had now a broad and strong base of secular
power. The new culture had been, to a great extent, wooed and won by
the Pope's princely patronage of art and embellishment of Rome; and the
Inquisition, in one form or other, could silence the intractable. There
was still, among the dour and distant northerners, much cavilling at
the avarice and luxury of Rome, but, if the succeeding Popes used the
Lateran Council to ensure some measure of reform, it would diminish;
it had, in any case, not yet proved dangerous. Neither Julius nor any
other had the least suspicion that the Papacy was within five years of
the beginning of an appalling catastrophe.
We have, however, seen that the opinions which were to bring about
that catastrophe had long been diffused in Europe, and a particular
conjunction of circumstances might at any time convert them into
rebellious action. For more than a century, there had been a critical
scrutiny of the bases of Papal power, and to a large extent the Papacy
had escaped the consequences by a greater liberality toward rulers and
by sharing with them the wealth it extracted from the people. France
maintained the Pragmatic Sanction, which Rome detested, and other
countries gave rather the impression of federation than of abject
submission to a spiritual autocracy. Moreover, while the pressure
of the central power was eased, doctrinal rebellion seemed to make
little progress. Lollardism was extinct, Hussitism confined to a sect,
Savonarolism murdered. Yet the Reformation was coming, and we see now
that Luther was but the instrument of its deliverance.
It is impossible here to discuss all the causes of the Reformation,
and a few considerations will suffice for my purpose. Printing had
been invented and printed sheets were being circulated. Men were now
reading--which provokes independent reflection--rather than sitting
at the feet of oracular schoolmen. Among the books which poured out
from the press, moreover, the Bible--in spite of a popular fallacy on
that subject--occupied an important place, even in the vernacular.
Further--and this was most important of all--the last great extension
of the Papal fiscal system, the granting of indulgences for money, was
in one important respect based on a novel speculation of the schoolmen
and was not supported by Biblical Christianity. The realization of this
stimulated men to get behind the fences of Decretals and scholastic
speculations, and to claim a reform which should be something more than
the substitution of a good Pope for a bad Pope. Finally the renewed
corruption of the Papal Court under Leo X. set this psychological
machinery in conscious motion.
Twenty-five cardinals were enclosed in the Sistine Chapel on March
4th for the election of the new Pope. Wealth was now of no direct
avail, for all accepted the Bull of Julius condemning bribery. Some of
the poorer cardinals, knowing that their votes were not marketable,
had tried to secure the treasure (about 300,000 ducats) left by
Julius, but the keeper of Sant' Angelo had been incorruptible. Yet we
must not emphasize the absence of bribery: there is such a thing as
gratitude for favours to come. For nearly a week the enclosed cardinals
discussed and negotiated. It is confidently stated that, while the
older cardinals were, as usual, divided in allegiance to several
of their body, the younger cardinals stood aloof and were secretly
resolved to elect Giovanni de' Medici. Cardinal Giovanni lay abed in
his little cell--imagine the Sistine Chapel containing thirty-one
bedrooms--suffering from fistula. A surgeon was with him in the
Conclave, and his condition was unpleasantly felt in the sealed room.
A close friend of his, Bernardo Dovizo, or Bibbiena as he was commonly
called, canvassed for him, and assured the cardinals of his liberal and
grateful disposition, his high origin, and his peaceful intentions.
He was only thirty-seven years of age, but the older cardinals may
have concluded that his malady compensated for his youth. At the first
scrutiny, on March 10th, he was elected, and he took the name of Leo X.
The earlier life of Leo X. has been told in the previous chapters.
The second son of Lorenzo the Magnificent, born on December 11, 1475,
he was thrust into the ranks of the clergy at the age of seven, he
received the title of cardinal at the age of fourteen, and he was
openly admitted to the Sacred College two years later. He had received
a stimulating education from the Humanist scholars of Florence, and
amidst the dissipations of Rome he remained a sober and diligent
scholar. He retired to Florence under Alexander VI., and, when his
family were driven from power and repeatedly failed to recover it,
he travelled in Germany, the Netherlands, and France. Under Julius
II., he found some favour and became Legate for Bologna and Romagna.
He was captured by the French at the fatal battle of Ravenna, but
he made his escape on their retreat from Italy, and soon afterwards
became the chief representative of his house on their restoration to
Florence. His public record was, therefore, slight, and his time had
been mainly devoted to the cultivation of letters and the enjoyment
of art, especially music. His interests were so well known that on
one of the triumphal arches erected for his coronation it was boldly
announced that Venus (Alexander) and Mars (Julius) had now made way for
Minerva; which a more discerning neighbour had modified by erecting
an assurance that Venus lived for ever. It was, and is, believed that
his life before he became Pope was free from irregularity. In spite of
three fasts a week and a strenuous devotion to the chase, he was an
abnormally fat man, and his pale, puffy face was not improved by his
large myopic eyes, which saw little without the aid of a glass. But
his unfailing smile, his charming manners, his ready wit, his prodigal
generosity, and his unalterable love of peace and sunshine promised a
genial contrast to the reign of his predecessor, and Rome gave him a
princely welcome.
There are three chief aspects of the Pontificate of Leo X. which it
is material to consider, and, although it is difficult entirely
to separate them, it is convenient to attempt this. There is his
political--or more correctly his diplomatic--action, which, though,
in that Machiavellian age, it seemed only a degree worse than was
customary, impresses the modern mind as almost revolting in its studied
duplicity. There is his personal life, which inspired the reformers
with volumes of vituperation, while modern writers seem able to regard
it without much sentiment. And there is the Pontifical activity which
culminates in the struggle with Luther. His relation to mediæval art is
less important than is commonly supposed.
Mediæval Italy was no place for a prince of peace, and Leo soon found
that, if he were to avoid the sword, he must follow a crooked course.
He sincerely loathed the clash of swords. He loved jewels and music
and comedies and books; he wanted to spend the Papal treasury in
surrounding himself with pretty things and flashes of wit--and he thus
spent the whole of Julius's 300,000 ducats in two years. But France
and Venice thirsted for revenge and sought his support; while the
envoys of Milan, Spain, England, and the Empire claimed his blessing,
and his ducats, for the opposite side. While, however, in the actual
condition of Italy, the Papal States were safe, a victory of France and
Venice would bring perils. Leo secretly joined the Holy League against
France, and secretly paid for the service of 45,000 Swiss mercenaries.
The policy turned out well. France was driven back, and the leaders of
the schismatical cardinals, Carvajal and Sanseverino, came to Rome,
and humbly accepted Leo's obedience. France repudiated the schism, and
Venice, after a desultory struggle, was pacified.
Leo found some time for domestic matters, of which two may be noted
here. On September 23d (1513) he created four cardinals, of whom three
were relatives and one a literary friend. Bernardo Bibbiena (or Dovizo)
had, as I said, promoted his interest in the Conclave, and at earlier
times, and was an accomplished literary man; he was also entirely
devoid of moral sentiment, composed the most indecent comedy that was
enacted at the Vatican, and was a genius at organizing festivities.
Innocenzo Cibò, son of Innocent VIII.'s natural son Franceschetto and
Leo's sister Maddalena, was a youth who seemed eager to emulate the
scandalous repute of his father. Giulio de' Medici, cousin of the Pope,
had already received a Papal dispensation from illegitimacy, and the
quiet and delicate youth was advanced a little nearer to the Papacy.
Lorenzo Pucci, lastly, was quite a distinguished canonist, and a
relative of Leo; he was also expert in pushing the sale of indulgences
and very solicitous about his own commission.
Leo then regarded the fortunes of the chief lay members of his family.
His brother Giuliano, a highly cultivated man of thirty-four, was too
much softened by vice and indulgence to carry out the Medici policy
at Florence. This policy, embodied in a paper of instructions which
there is good reason to ascribe to Leo himself, was entrusted to the
Pope's nephew Lorenzo, a vigorous young sportsman. Giuliano was made
a Baron of Rome and commander of the Papal army--Leo remarking that
he trusted there would be no demand upon his military talent--and it
was so confidently rumoured that the Pope proposed to make him King
of Naples that Ferdinand was alarmed and had to be reassured. It is
still disputed whether Leo really had this intention, or whether he
merely proposed to make a small principality in central Italy for his
worthless brother; nor, in view of the secrecy and duplicity of the
Pope's methods, is the point ever likely to be settled on a documentary
basis. It seems consistent both with the course of events and with
Leo's character to suppose that he kept both alternatives in mind,
but that nepotism was not the _first_ principle of his policy: his
fundamental idea was the maintenance of his own luxurious security.[294]
In this pleasant promotion of his friends and relatives and their
innumerable followers, in the prodigal encouragement of the artists,
musicians, poets, and jewellers who flocked to Rome from all parts,
Leo spent two years which were only slightly clouded by the rapid
exhaustion of the Papal treasury. Meantime, however, the political
situation had once more claimed his impatient attention, and we may
for the moment confine ourselves to that interesting aspect of his
work. Louis, disgusted with the Papacy, approached Ferdinand of Spain
and was prepared to abandon to him his claims on Milan, Genoa, and
Naples. This prospect of the enclosure of Papal territory in a Spanish
vice threw the Pope into a fit of diplomatic activity. He secretly
negotiated with Venice and Florence and Ferrara, and sent a legate
to England to help to reconcile Henry VIII with Louis. He trusted
to induce these Powers to form a league with him for the purpose of
driving the Spaniards out of Italy, and aimed at securing Naples for
his brother.[295] In October the French King married Mary Tudor, and
the Spanish spectre was laid. But, with the unvarying logic of Papal
politics, the fear of Spain was succeeded by a fear of France, and the
Pope had recourse to the kind of diplomacy which is characteristic of
him, and in which, we are assured, he took great pleasure. He made a
secret treaty with Spain for the defence of Italy, and a secret treaty
of alliance with Louis against Spain.[296] He encouraged Louis, who
held out to him the prospect of Naples, to attack Italy, and secretly
promised to assist Milan and the Emperor against the French if Louis
did attack Italy, which he thought improbable. He thus, he thought,
secured a principality for Giuliano, whichever side won. "When you have
made a league with one man," he used to say, "there is no reason why
you should cease to negotiate with his opponent."
This policy, it is recorded, cost Leo sleepless nights, though not on
account of moral scruples. Louis pressed him for a definite alliance
against Milan, and he tried to evade it by pleading that it was
not meet for Christian princes to engage in warfare while the Turk
threatened Europe. The death of Louis in January (1515) made matters
worse, as his successor, Francis I., determined with all the vigour
and ambition of youth to press the French claims. Leo kept a legate
negotiating with Francis, and we learn from the Legate's letters that
he offered an alliance on condition that Naples should be surrendered
to Giuliano. In the meantime (February 1st), he secretly approved of
the league of Germany, Spain, Switzerland, Milan, and Genoa against
France, and stipulated that he should have Parma, Piacenza, Modena, and
Reggio; he would pay 60,000 ducats a month to the league, and would
induce Henry VIII.--partly by making Wolsey a cardinal--to join it.
In July he secretly signed the league, yet continued his deceptive
correspondence with France. We have still the document in which Leo,
after joining the league, offered an alliance to Francis on condition
that he renounced his claim to Parma and Piacenza, made peace with
Spain with a view to meeting the Turks, and surrendered his claim to
Naples "in favour of the Holy See or of a third person approved by the
Holy See."[297]
During the campaign which followed, Leo wavered according to the news
he received. When the French took Milan, he made peace with them; they
were to respect the position of the Medici at Florence, and Leo was
to renounce the Papal claim to Parma and Piacenza. He had, however, a
more creditable object in view than the interest of his family. He met
Francis at Bologna, and there can be no doubt that they then agreed to
substitute a Concordat for the Pragmatic Sanction of 1438. For the
promise of a tithe on his clergy, Francis surrendered their Gallican
privileges, and became, as he thought, the real ally of the Pope. Leo
ordered the Swiss to refrain from attacking the French in Milan, and
listened approvingly to the King's designs on Naples. Within three
months, however, the Emperor Maximilian led a body of Swiss troops, in
the pay of Henry VIII., to an attack on Milan, and Leo was summoned
by Francis to dispatch troops in accordance with their agreement.
Carefully retarding the levy of his troops so that they should not
arrive in time, and keeping a legate by the side of Maximilian, Leo
awaited the result. The expedition failed, and he sought favour with
the exasperated Francis by revealing to him that Henry VIII. had
secretly paid the Swiss, and by sending once more an insincere command
that the Swiss must not dare to attack an ally of the Papacy. He sought
to retain the favour of Maximilian by reminding him that he had sent
him two hundred Papal horse under Mark Antonio Colonna; and to Francis
he protested that Colonna had acted without permission. He then assured
Francis that he had sent a legate to induce Maximilian to make peace
with France, and he gave secret instructions to the legate that such a
peace would not be to the interest of the Papacy.
This is the admitted framework of that diplomacy which Roscoe contrives
to dress in such opulent phrases, and it was a policy that Leo never
altered. His next step was to seize the duchy of Urbino for his nephew
Lorenzo: a step which, after all his apologies, Dr. Pastor admits to
have "something repulsive about it." The Duke of Urbino (nephew of
Julius II.) had, in spite of his feudal obligations, refused to attack
the French at the command of the Pope, and seems to have discussed
with Francis the duplicity of the Pope's procedure. Yet his liberality
to the Medici in the days of misfortune had been such that Giuliano
earnestly joined with Francis I. in imploring Leo to overlook his
conduct. Leo harshly refused, and, to the disgust of many, the duchy
was subdued and given to Lorenzo. I may conclude this matter by
recounting that in 1517 the exiled Duke recovered his territory, and
the long struggle for his ejection cost the Papal treasury, according
to Guicciardini, 800,000 ducats.
A fresh anxiety clouded the Pope's pleasures when he heard that France,
Spain, Germany, and Switzerland had formed an alliance, and that
Francis I. and Charles V. (who succeeded Ferdinand on January 23d)
were virtually to divide northern and central Italy between them. This
project was abandoned, but in the following year an even more serious
event alarmed the Pope. The younger cardinals who had pressed his
election were generally aggrieved. Fast and luxurious as most of them
were, they had expected a larger pecuniary gratitude on Leo's part,
and they observed with annoyance that his relatives and his literary
admirers secured the greater part of his lavish gifts. In 1517, one
of these worldly young cardinals, Petrucci, conceived a particular
animosity against Leo, on account of some injustice done to his
brother, and there is little room for doubt that he spoke and thought
of having the Pope assassinated. Whether or no we trust the romantic
story told by Guicciardini and Giovio, that the surgeon who attended
the Pope was to poison his wound, we can hardly accept the opposite
rumour, that the whole conspiracy was invented by the Pope or his
brother in order to secure money. Petrucci was not offered the option
of a fine; and Cardinals Riario and Sauli confessed that they knew of
the plot. After a dramatic period of inquiry and incrimination Petrucci
was, in spite of the protests of cardinals and ambassadors, strangled
in his prison, and the flesh of his guilty servants was torn from their
bones with red-hot pincers. Cardinal Riario paid 150,000 ducats for his
release, and the less wealthy Cardinal Sauli 25,000. Cardinals Soderini
and Castellesi fled, when they were impeached, and their property and
that of Cardinal Petrucci was seized.
These events caused the gravest scandal throughout Christendom.
Cardinal Riario was the Dean of the Sacred College, and many preferred
to think that the plot was an invention for the purpose of securing
funds rather than that the cardinals had sunk so low. The dilemma was
painful, but we can have little doubt that Leo, at least, was convinced
of the reality of the plot. Instead of proceeding with greater
caution, however, he went on to give a fresh ground of criticism.
In a Consistory which he held on June 26th, he told the cardinals
that he was going to add no less than twenty-seven members to their
college. Their stormy protests increased his determination, and on
July 1st he promoted thirty-one cardinals. The rumour at once spread
through Christendom, and is in substance undoubted, that most of the
new cardinals paid large sums of money for the dignity; Sanuto makes
individual payments rise as high as 30,000 ducats. Some of them were
men of low character, and others were either related to, or had lent
money to, the Pope.
We may, however, conclude the political consideration before we discuss
these domestic matters. Maximilian induced the Diet of Augsburg to
elect his grandson Charles as his successor to the imperial title,
and, as a Bull of Julius II. enacted that the investiture of the
kingdom of Naples reverted to the Papacy if its holder became King of
Rome, the Pope was pressed to give a dispensation from this Bull. Leo
pleaded that his "honour" was at stake; but he secretly negotiated with
Francis (who bitterly opposed the dispensation) and with Charles, and
bargained shamelessly for his refusal or consent. In the end Francis
(out of funds raised in the name of a crusade) gave Lorenzo de' Medici
100,000 ducats "for services rendered," and promised a further sum of
100,000 to the Pope. It is an equally undisputed fact that on January
20, 1519, Leo, Lorenzo, and Francis entered into an alliance; the Pope
and his nephew were to promote the interests of Francis, and the French
King was to protect the Papal States and the estates of the Medici
family, and to admit the claims of the Church at Milan. It is, perhaps,
the choicest example of Leo's diplomacy--"unparalleled double-dealing,"
Dr. Pastor calls it--that he secretly drew up a similar treaty with
Spain and signed it a fortnight after he had signed the preceding
(February 6th).
In the meantime Leo heard that Maximilian had died on January 12th,
and he confronted, or evaded, the situation in his distinctive way. He
informed his German legate that Charles was already too powerful, and
that either Frederic of Saxony (whom he wished to induce to surrender
Luther) or Joachim of Brandenburg (a docile noble) ought to have
the imperial title. Hearing, however, that these candidates had no
prospect, he adopted Francis I. and urged him to defeat Charles. His
policy at this stage is not wholly clear, and it is possible that at
first he pitted Francis against Charles in the hope of making profit
from one or the other. In time he seems seriously to have adopted
Francis. He, on March 12th, offered the red hat to the Electors of
Trèves and Cologne, and proposed (on the 14th) to make the Archbishop
of Mayence (a disreputable prelate) permanent legate for Germany;
and he then, on May 4th, issued a Brief to the effect that if three
Electors agreed in their choice the election should be valid. His
schemes were shaken for a moment by the premature death of Lorenzo,
which moved him, in a nervous hour, to exclaim that henceforward he
belonged, "not to the house of Medici, but to the house of God."
But his associates were not kept long in suspense. He attempted to
incorporate Urbino in the Papal States, and, when Francis objected that
Urbino belonged to Lorenzo's surviving child (and her French mother),
the Pope began to abandon France. He was just in time to approve
Charles and promise a dispensation in regard to Naples before that
prince was elected to be Emperor.
But the consciousness of his long opposition to Charles weighed upon
him, and in September he again made a secret treaty with Francis I.; he
would refuse the crown of Naples to Charles and would promote French
interests by secular and spiritual weapons in return for the French
King's aid against Charles and against "insubordinate vassals." Vassals
of Leo X. cannot easily have kept pace with the remarkable policy of
their feudal lord, but we are hardly reconciled to the Pope's mingled
greed and nepotism. He secured Perugia and some of the smaller places
in Ancona and Umbria, and made an unsuccessful attempt to get Ferrara.
During all this time, he listened amiably to German proposals for
an alliance, and in the first months of 1521 he again duped the two
monarchs. In January--and it was repeated in March and April--he gave
the representatives of Charles a written assurance that he had no
engagements to the disadvantage of that monarch and would not incur any
within three months; in the same month (January) he agreed to secure
for Francis, for the purpose of an attack on Naples, a free passage
through the Swiss lines, and to receive in return Ferrara and a strip
of Neapolitan territory.
By this time, however, the shadow of Luther had fallen on the
Papal Court. The magnitude of the danger in Germany was by no
means appreciated, but Leo was eager to get Luther to Rome and
must conciliate the Emperor. In May, hearing that the French were
approaching the Swiss and the Duke of Ferrara, he formed an alliance
with Charles and prepared to use all his forces to drive his former
ally out of Italy. The campaign opened successfully, but Leo did not
live to see the issue and profit by it. He caught a chill as he sat at
an open window in November watching the popular rejoicing, and died on
December 1st, at the age of forty-two. Both the leading authorities,
Giovio and Guicciardini, accept the current belief that either the Duke
of Ferrara or the late Duke of Urbino had had him poisoned, but it is
now generally recognized that the recorded symptoms of his seven days'
illness point rather to malaria.
This admitted career of duplicity will not dispose us to expect a
domestic atmosphere of virtue and piety at the Vatican, and it is
singular that any historian has affected to find such. That Leo heard
or said mass daily, and was attentive to his ceremonious obligations,
is not, in that age, inconsistent with impropriety of conduct. His
lavish charity was a becoming part of his habitual liberality, and his
weekly fasts were rather intended to reduce the flesh than to subdue
it. On the other hand, some of the frivolous remarks attributed to him
have not the least authority. When the Venetian ambassador ascribes to
him the saying, "Let us enjoy the Papacy now that God has given it to
us," we may or may not have a mere popular rumour, though the phrase
is at least a correct expression of Leo's ideal; but that the Pope
ever mockingly attributed his good fortune to "the fable about Jesus
Christ" is not stated until long after his death, and then only by an
English controversialist, the ex-Carmelite Bale. Whether Leo was or was
not addicted to sins of the flesh is not a grave matter of historical
inquiry, but the evidence seems to me conclusive that, at least in his
Pontifical days, he was irregular.[298]
The character of life at the Vatican and in Rome under Leo X. was,
indeed, such as to prevent us from imputing any moral scruples to the
Pope. Leo spent, on the lowest estimate, five million ducats in eight
years, and left debts which are variously estimated at from half a
million to a million ducats. He must have spent nearly £300,000 per
year, and in order to make his official income of about 400,000 ducats
meet this strain he created and sold superfluous offices--they were
estimated at 2150 at this death,--pressed the sale of indulgences and
the exaction of fees and first-fruits, and borrowed large sums at
exorbitant rates of usury; several of his bankers and friends were
ruined at his death. A very large proportion of this money went in
gifts to literary men and scholars. Leo was a royal spendthrift of the
most benevolent and thoughtless nature. All the scribblers of Italy
flocked to Rome, and money was poured out without discrimination as
long as it lasted. Yet letters and scholarship actually decayed owing
to the recklessness of the payments. "The splendour of the Leonine
age, so often and so much belauded, is in many respects more apparent
than real," says Dr. Pastor, who has several valuable chapters on
Leo's relation to letters and art. The Roman University, which the
Pope at first supported with great liberality, was suffered to decay,
and great artists were not always encouraged. Ariosto was treated
harshly, and, while Rafael and his pupils were richly employed, Michael
Angelo was little used. Leo did not adequately appreciate sculpture
or architecture, and even the building of St. Peter's made very
little progress during his Pontificate. It is true that the state of
the Papal finances was the chief reason for the neglect of the great
architectural and educational plans of his predecessors. The check to
the sale of indulgences--brought about by Cardinal Ximenes in Spain
as well as by Luther in Germany--was felt severely at Rome.[299]
But we read that to the end Leo spent prodigious sums on musicians,
decorators, goldsmiths, and jewellers. An inventory in the Vatican
archives values at 204,655 ducats the jewels he left behind.
It was, in fact, not so much the discriminating promotion of art and
culture as a princely luxuriousness that absorbed Leo's funds. He was
temperate at table. The cardinals and wealthier Romans continued to
enjoy the senselessly rich banquets which they seem to have copied from
the most decadent pages of Roman history. Cardinal Cornaro is noted as
giving a dinner of sixty-five courses on silver dishes. Banker Chigi,
a useful friend of Leo, had his valuable plate thrown into the river
after one choice banquet; and on the occasion of his marriage with his
mistress (whose finger was held by Leo to receive the ring) he brought
luxuries, even live fish, from the ends of Europe. Banker Strozzi gave
rival banquets, at which cardinals fraternized with courtesans. Leo
approved, and sometimes attended, these banquets (at Chigi's palace),
but was personally temperate. He had only one meal each day, and
fasting fare on three days in each week, but he spent immense sums on
musicians and trinket-makers, and many of his pleasures were in the
grossest taste of the time. Men of prodigious appetite--one of them a
Dominican friar--were brought to his table to amuse him and his guests
by their incredible gluttony. The Pope bandied verses with half-drunken
poetasters and patronized the coarsest buffoons as well as the keenest
wits. When he went to his country house at Magliana for a few weeks'
hunting--in which he displayed extraordinary vigour--he took a troop
of his poets, buffoons, musicians, and other parasites. At Carnival
time he entered into the wild gaiety of Rome; and comedies of the most
licentious character were staged before him. Ariosto's _Suppositi_
(in which Cardinal Cibò took a part), Machiavelli's _Mandragola_,
and Bibbiena's _Calandria_ alternated with Terence and Plautus. The
_Calandria_, written by Cardinal Bibbiena, Leo's chief favourite, the
frescoes of whose bathroom seem to have been like those on certain
rooms in Pompeii today, is a comedy of thin wit and unrestrained
license; the Pope had it presented in the Vatican for the entertainment
of Isabella d'Este.
Such was the Pope who presided over the Lateran Council for the reform
of the Church, and the historian will hardly be expected to enlarge
at any length on its labours. Julius had initiated the council in
order to checkmate France and the schismatical cardinals, and it
continued its thinly attended sittings, at wide intervals, for four
years. Some seventy or eighty Italian bishops attended, and they
issued some admirable counsels to the clergy to improve their lives,
condemned heretical writings, and voiced the sincere wish that some
Christian prince would arrest the advance of the Turks. A committee
of the council drew up a stringent and comprehensive scheme for the
reform of Church-abuses, but this was lost amid the vehement wrangles
of monks, bishops, and cardinals. In the end (1514) a very slender
reform-bill was issued; nor were the clergy disposed to comply with
this when they noticed that, in the following year, Leo himself
bestowed a bishopric, and soon afterwards the cardinalate, upon the
boy-son of Emmanuel of Portugal, and granted to the father a large
share of the proceeds of the issue of indulgences. The council also
forbade the printing of books without approbation, and encouraged the
spread of banks or pawn-shops (Monti di Pietà) for the poor. On March
16, 1517, Leo, in spite of the murmurs of the reformers and the revolt
in Germany, brought to a close his almost futile council. He had no
desire whatever for reform, and even the measures which were passed
were not enforced. The reforming prelates were deeply saddened by his
levity, and, before the close of the council, Gianfrancesco Pico della
Mirandola drew up in their name an appalling indictment of the state of
the Church and predicted that the refusal to remedy it would bring on
them a heavy judgment.
The one work of the Council in which the Pope took a lively interest
was the granting of a Concordat to France. The Gallican sentiments of
the French prelates and doctors had been embodied in the Pragmatic
Sanction (1438), and Rome had not ceased to protest against this
cession to local councils of the powers it claimed. By the Concordat of
1516 the King and the Pope virtually divided these powers between them;
the King had the right of nomination to bishoprics and abbeys, the Pope
received the "first-fruits" (Annates). The Concordat was signed by Leo
on September 16, 1516, but was not published until 1518, when it caused
fierce indignation at the universities and among the clergy.
Leo had dismissed the reformers of the Lateran Council, and in the
spring of 1517, the very year in which Martin Luther nailed his
challenge on the door of the castle-church at Wittenberg, turned with
relief to his corrupt court. There had, as we saw, long been an outcry
in Germany against the corruption of a very large proportion of the
clergy and against the Papal fiscal system, yet Leo had light-heartedly
maintained the disorders. In 1514 he had, in order to secure the votes
of two Electors, conferred the Archbishopric of Mayence upon a young
and worldly noble, Albert of Brandenburg, and had (for a payment of
24,000 ducats) permitted him still to retain the sees of Magdeburg
and Halberstadt. In order to recover the 24,000 ducats, which he had
borrowed on the security of a share in the sale of indulgences, the
unscrupulous prelate pressed the traffic eagerly, and some of the more
enlightened German clergy protested. There were already princes, such
as the Elector of Saxony, who refused to allow the Papal envoys in
their dominions, and there were writers, like Ulrich von Hutten, who
violently assailed their procedure. Leo, however, failed to appreciate
the gravity of the situation and proposed to raise large sums,
ostensibly for the building of St. Peter's, by granting indulgences.
I have already explained that, though John XXIII. undoubtedly sold
absolution "from guilt and from penalty," as the Council of Constance
established, the indulgence was, properly speaking, a remission of the
punishment due to sins which had been duly confessed. In earlier Papal
practice, the indulgence was the commutation into a money-payment of
the penance for sin imposed by the Church, but, as the doctrine of
Purgatory developed, the indulgence came to be regarded as a remission
of the punishment due in Purgatory. Two questions had then arisen on
which the schoolmen had exercised their ingenuity: on what ground could
the Church claim to remit this punishment, and whether the indulgence
could be extended to the dead who were actually suffering in Purgatory?
The schoolmen found a satisfactory answer to both questions. Then
Boniface IX. decreed that an indulgence might be earned by a payment of
money to the Church (the price of a voyage to Rome), and the way was
opened for the later abuse. In their commercial zeal the Papal envoys
and preachers undoubtedly represented that souls were delivered from
the fire of Purgatory when the coin rang in their collecting boxes.
The Dominican monk Tetzel, who in 1517 was sent to preach the
indulgence as Albert of Brandenburg's sub-commissary, was more zealous
than scrupulous in his representations, and people of Wittenberg,
who had crossed the frontier in order to profit by the indulgence,
came home with unedifying reports of his sermons. Martin Luther,
then a professor at the Wittenberg University, heard these reports
with disdain. There was no defined doctrine of the Church on the
subject, and more than one divine had felt, like Luther, that this
apparent traffic was as enervating to real piety as it was in itself
distasteful. A man of intense and stormy spiritual experience, he
sternly combated all that seemed to encourage "sloth" in religious
life; his was the more arduous religion of St. Paul and St.
Augustine. Conscious, therefore, that the whole practice was based on
comparatively recent speculations of the schoolmen, which he had a
right to dispute, he challenged Tetzel to justify his "lying fables
and empty promises." A war of pamphlets ensued, and, as his opponents
naturally appealed to the language in which the Popes had announced
indulgences, Luther was compelled to slight the words of the Popes and
appeal to the declarations of Councils and the teaching of Scripture.
He was still orthodox; the language he used had been heard in the
Church for two centuries, and in that age one would as soon have
thought of claiming impeccability as infallibility for the Popes.
At the beginning of 1518 it was reported to Rome that the agitation
raised by the robust professor was seriously interfering with the
indulgences, and Leo, encouraged by the angry Dominicans, directed
his superiors to restrain him. When they failed, he summoned Luther
to Rome. The monk, knowing how such trials ended at Rome, appealed to
the Elector of Saxony and to Maximilian. The appeal to the Emperor,
however, fell at a time when the Papal favour was sought for Charles,
and Maximilian encouraged the Pope to take action. Leo ordered Luther
to present himself at once before the Papal Legate and prepare for
trial at Rome. On the other hand Frederic of Saxony insisted that
Luther should be examined in Germany, and the Pope dreaded to irritate
an Elector on the eve of an imperial election. Legate Cajetan was
therefore empowered to see the rebel at Augsburg, and a series of
futile conferences took place on October 12th-14th. Luther wished
to argue and justify his thesis: Cajetan was instructed merely to
demand his submission. Luther insisted that he should be tried by the
learned doctors of Basle, Freiburg, Louvain, and Paris: the legate was
charged to assert the Papal authority. On October 18th Luther departed
in disgust for Wittenberg; and his temper was not improved by the
discovery that Leo had, on August 23d, directed the legate, in case of
obstinacy, to declare him heretical. He appealed to a General Council.
Luther was still within the limits of orthodox sentiment and practice,
and the protection of the Elector embarrassed the Pope. A more
diplomatic envoy, Karl von Militz, a Papal chamberlain, was sent to
Germany, and some months were spent in amiable correspondence. Luther
promised to be silent if his opponents would keep silence, and wrote
a respectful letter to the Pope; to which Leo made a gracious reply.
But the truce was little more than a diplomatic regard for Papal
interests during the period of the imperial election, and the policy
of silence soon proved impossible for both sides. Ulrich von Hutten and
other critics encouraged Luther to assail the Papal authority, and the
exaggerations of his opponents reacted on the growth of his mind. By
the end of 1519 he seems to have concluded, with some firmness, that
the Papal system was an unwarranted addition to primitive Christianity,
and a formidable movement supported his ideas.
In January (1520) Luther's case was submitted to a commission of
theologians at Rome, and the Elector was summoned to compel him to
retract. Frederic refused, and in June Leo signed the Bull _Exsurge
Domine_; Luther was to be excommunicated if he did not submit within
sixty days, and the secular authorities would incur an interdict if
they did not surrender him. It is not of material interest to quarrel
with the Pope's procedure: to point out that the disappointed Cajetan
was one of the heads of the commission of inquiry, and that Luther's
vehement opponent Eck was one of the two legates entrusted with the
publication of the Bull. Rome demanded submission; and, if Luther
had submitted, some other German would before long have instituted
the Reformation. Europe was ripe for schism, and it may be doubted
whether even a reform of the Church would have long prevented the
growth of a body of men holding the Reformers' view of the bases of
Papal authority. On December 10th (1520) Luther publicly burned the
Bull. Even this act was not without orthodox precedent, but Luther
was constantly advancing. He was summoned before the Diet of Worms in
April (1521), and he then stated that the word of neither Popes nor
Councils would condemn him; he must be judged by reason and Scripture.
But the political situation, which casts its shadow throughout on the
development, was now modified. Charles obtained his wish of an alliance
with the Papacy against France. This alliance was signed on May 8th: on
the 12th the Diet issued the Edict of Worms. Luther was, in accordance
with the Pope's second Bull,[300] declared a heretic. He retreated to
the Wartburg under the protection of Frederic, and the gravest phase of
the struggle opened.[301]
Leo died in December, as I have stated, leaving to his successor
the terrible legacy of his frivolity in face of a grave calamity.
In his last two years he apprehended, to some extent, the magnitude
of the German trouble, but he plainly proposed to answer the just
demand of reform only by the burning of a few heretics. His entirely
dishonourable diplomacy and his costly indulgence of tastes which ill
befitted a successor of Leo I. imposed the last unendurable burden on
the patience of Europe. For him the Papacy was a principality, and the
religious nature of its financial sources makes more contemptible the
use to which he put his wealth. Even that artistic splendour which
casts a glow over the Papacy before the breaking of the great storm
owed to him comparatively little. The middle or secular phase of the
development of the Papacy came to an end in the tawdry luxuries and
unscrupulous measures of a Pope who has been treated with singular
favour at the bar of Catholic history.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 294: F. Nitti, _Leo X. e la sua politica_ (1892), seeks to
defend Leo against the charge of excessive nepotism. He strains the
evidence at times, and quite admits that duplicity was the essential
feature of the Pope's policy. See also his _Documenti ed osservazioni
riguardanti la politica di Leone X._ (1893). A biography of Leo was
written by the contemporary Bishop of Nocera, Paolo Giovio, but this
_Vita Leonis X._ is the work of a courtier. Guicciardini (_Storia
d'Italia_), Sanuto (_Diarii_), and Bembo (_Opere_) are more critical,
and the letters of the Roman ambassadors are valuable. P. de Grassis,
Master of Ceremonies at the Papal Court under Julius and Leo, wrote a
_Diary of Leo X._, but there seems to be some reluctance to publish
it. The work published by Armellini (_Il diario di Leone X._, 1884) is
merely a discreet compendium of it. Fabroni's _Leonis X. Vita_ is too
ancient (1797), and _The Medici Popes_ (1908) by H.M. Vaughan, is an
excellent popular work. Roscoe's stately _Life and Pontificate of Leo
X._ (1805) is too flattering to its hero and is discredited in places
by more recent research.]
[Footnote 295: Sanuto, _Diarii_, xviii.]
[Footnote 296: Guicciardini, xii. There is a copy of his Spanish treaty
in the State archives at Florence.]
[Footnote 297: The instruction is reproduced by Nitti, p. 61. As the
document adds that Leo will not allow any prince, "even were it his
own brother," to hold "both the head and the tail of Italy" (Milan and
Naples), Nitti and Pastor claim that it shows that nepotism was not the
key-note of Leo's policy. It seems strange that, in view of all his
admitted duplicity, they can take seriously this phrase of the Pope's.
We may admit, however, that the security of the Papal States was the
Pope's first consideration.]
[Footnote 298: Dr. Pastor (viii., 81) is here less candid than usual.
He says that "Giovio passes over the whole truth of the accusations
brought against the moral conduct of Leo X.," whereas the Bishop of
Nocera devotes several very curious pages to the subject (lib. iv.,
pp. 96-99 in the 1551 edition of the _Vita Leonis X._) and ends with
a reminder that we can never be quite sure about the secrets of the
chamber and an assurance that Leo was at all events less guilty than
other Italian princes. The courtly writer seems to me convinced that
Leo was addicted to unnatural vice. Vaughan, on the other hand, is
wrong in saying that Giovio alone mentioned these vices. Guicciardini
(lib. xvi., c.v., p. 254, in the 1832 edition of the _Storia
d'Italia_), in the course of a sober characterization of Leo, says that
he was generally believed to be chaste before his election, but he was
"afterwards found to be excessively devoted to pleasures which cannot
be called decent."]
[Footnote 299: It is sometimes pointed out, rather in the way of merit,
that Leo received less than some of his predecessors by the issue of
indulgences. It was not from want of will on his part.]
[Footnote 300: _In Coena Domini_, March 28th.]
[Footnote 301: The situation in England does not call for consideration
in this chapter. Henry VIII. wrote against Luther and, in presenting
his book to the Pope, requested a title analogous to that of "the most
Catholic King." By a Bull of October 26, 1521, Henry received the title
of "Defender of the Faith," which his successors retain.]
CHAPTER XV
PAUL III. AND THE COUNTER-REFORMATION
The period immediately following the death of Leo X. is known as
that of the Counter-Reformation. The name which has clung to the
great religious schism of the sixteenth century still indicates how
essentially it was, in its origin, a protest against the corruption of
the mediæval Church. The reform of dogma was an afterthought; and the
Reformation would probably have proved one more futile and academic
criticism of the mediæval growth of doctrine if it had not primarily
appealed to the very general resentment against the practices of the
Curia and contempt for the unworthy lives of so large a proportion
of the clergy and regulars. The situation, indeed, offers a romantic
aspect to the historian. If a strong and entirely religious man, like
Cardinal Carafa, had succeeded Leo X., it might have been possible,
by a notable improvement in practice, to disarm a very effective
proportion of the followers of the Reformers and thus to put back for
a century or two the doctrinal revision. Unhappily for the Papacy, Leo
X. had filled the Sacred College with men of his own disposition, and
thirty years were wasted in fruitless efforts at compromise. In those
thirty years, the hesitating criticisms of Luther crystallized into a
settled creed which no persuasion could dissolve and no persecution
could obliterate.
Hadrian VI., who followed Leo, spent two unhappy years (1521-3) in a
pitiable and wholly vain attempt to save the authority of the Popes
in northern Europe. Sprung from a pious working-class family of the
Low-lands, and retaining his simple tastes and stern religious idealism
in the evil atmosphere of the higher clergy, he sincerely resented the
vices and frivolity of the cardinals. Rome itself now ridiculed so
fiercely the contrast between their pretensions and their lives that
the worldly cardinals were unable to put into power a man like Leo X.,
and the learned, venerable, and more or less disdained Hadrian VI.
shuddered to find himself at the helm on so stormy a sea. He was not
the type of man to save the Church. With simple fidelity, he at once
made it clear that the debased policy of his predecessor was abandoned;
but he had not the strength to control the crowd of discontented
cardinals and prelates, or to frame and carry through a consistent
scheme of reform. He was concerned, too, about the financial loss which
would be caused by a thorough reform, and the traffic in benefices
and indulgences was merely moderated instead of being abolished. The
curtailment was in itself a confession that the system was corrupt,
and the Reformers scoffed at Hadrian's invitation to return on such a
basis, while orthodox Catholics deplored the candour of the admission.
Between these antagonistic and weighty forces the slender energy of the
well meaning Pontiff was exhausted in two years.
The Pontificate of Clement VII. (1523-34) was a compromise; he was
a Medicean Pope (Giulio de' Medici), a patron of art and letters,
but a man of sober taste and regular life. It was a compromise, too,
between a keen intelligence and a flabby will--a sagacious perception
of the danger and a complete lack of the virility needed to avert
it--and eleven further years of impotence permitted the Reformation
to take deep and indestructible root in Germany. Clement VII. was,
in fact, largely absorbed in the unending political struggle. After
some vacillation he allied himself with France against Charles V.,
and Charles won. Rome had to endure one of the most cruel and most
prolonged pillages in its history, and the Pope was for seven months
imprisoned in Sant' Angelo. He made peace with Charles, but he had
little satisfaction in contemplating the imperial shadow which lay over
fallen Italy, while the Turks came ever nearer and no Christian monarch
would advance against them. In these circumstances, Protestantism
became a creed and spread over the north. Henry VIII. married Anne
Boleyn and became the "defender" of a new faith; and the revolt spread
to Switzerland and Scandinavia. The scanty measures of reform passed
by Clement were regarded with disdain by the dissenters, and the
artistic Renaissance itself never recovered from the sack of Rome and
the overrunning of Italy. It was left to the founders of new religious
congregations, especially the Oratorians, Theatines, and Barnabites,
and to the reformers of the older orders, to lay the foundations of the
Counter-Reformation.
Clement died on September 25, 1534, and the College of Cardinals, which
had almost become the curse of the Church, met to elect a successor.
Few of these cardinals, even now, grasped with any intelligence the
grave situation of their Church. It was, indeed, feared that, while
the reform was spreading rapidly in the north, the Conclave would be
wrecked by the conflict of the French and Imperialist partisans. The
struggle was so menacing that a politically neutral cardinal was
forced upon the College, and the graver need of the Church--the need of
a Pontiff of the most sincere and spontaneous religion, as well as of
large mind and inflexible will--was almost unnoticed.
Alessandro Farnese, who now became Paul III.,[302] was a man of high
intelligence, fine culture, and great will-power; but he had neither
the immaculate record and deep piety which were needed to impress the
Reformers nor the political decision which might have compensated
for these defects. However much the historian may appreciate the
difficulties of the Papacy, he cannot but recognize that the idea of
compromising with the Reformers had at least since 1520 been futile.
Paul III. had, it is true, no idea of compromise: the dissenters
were to surrender every doctrinal and disciplinary claim, or to be
extinguished. The great European schism could now have been remedied
by no man. But a reform of the Church on other than doctrinal matters
might have done much to arrest the spread of Protestantism, and on
this Paul compromised. His policy was a reflection of his personality;
he was a son of the Renaissance Church, and feebly--in spite of his
admitted strength of will--he endeavoured to retain certain pleasant
features of the vicious _ancien régime_ with which to soften the
asperity of the new ideal which was forced upon him. He was in a sense
a Papal Louis XVIII.
We remember Paul as the brother of Alexander VI's doll-like mistress,
Giulia Farnese. Born on February 29, 1468, he had received early
instruction in the new culture from Pomponio Leto at Rome, and had
spent his youth in that seminary of the Humanists, the splendid palace
of Lorenzo de' Medici at Florence, and then at Pisa University. His
wealth was far inferior to the nobility of his descent, and it was
not until his young sister had attracted the eye of the voluptuous
Pope that he was promoted to the cardinalate (September 20, 1493).
In 1502, he was appointed legate for the March of Ancona, and the
more comfortable establishment he could now afford to maintain
included a mistress. Four children--Pier Luigi, Paolo, Costanza, and
Ranuccio--were born in his palace between 1502 and 1509; and the eldest
son and Costanza were familiar figures in Roman society during his
later Pontificate.
The more minute inquirer will find the documents transcribed from the
Vatican archives, relating to these children, in Pastor.[303] His
mistress died at an early age in 1513, and Alessandro (now forty-five
years old) is described as moderating his irregularities and as
devoting some attention to his bishopric of Parma. Papal historians
observe with pride that his irregularities entirely ceased in 1519,
when he was ordained priest. The friend of his youth, Leo X., cordially
included him in his generous patronage, and he was able to build the
Farnese palace and to cultivate ambition. In 1523, he made an effort
to secure the tiara, but at the Conclave the cardinals had not the
courage to present to the Reformers as Pontiff the father of four
children. He stifled his lament that Clement VII. had "robbed him of
ten years of the Papacy," and became as amiable a friend of that Pope
as he had been of his five predecessors; and amidst the fierce clash
of political passion he retained a diplomatic neutrality. He shared
Clement's bitter days in Sant' Angelo, yet did not quarrel with the
Imperialists.
These characteristics marked Alessandro for the throne; and they at
the same time ensured that his struggle with Protestantism would be
entirely futile. He was now sixty-seven years old, and we easily
picture him from Titian's wonderful portrait; frail and worn in flesh
and stooping with age; yet his penetrating eyes and large bald dome of
a forehead indicated a great energy of will and force of intellect.
He was essentially a diplomat, and the cardinals, absorbed for the
most part in the political troubles, did not reflect that the rapier
of diplomacy was the last weapon with which to meet the stout staves
of the northerners. He was an excellent listener, a sparing and
deliberate talker, a most skilful postponer of crucial decisions; a
"_vas dilationis_," the Roman wits said, parodying the description of a
greater Paul.
Dr. Pastor thinks that the reforming cardinals--of whom there were now
many--had much confidence in his disposition to reform. If they had,
their trust is in the main another tribute to his diplomatic skill. He
had no idea of reforming the Curia and the Church further than might be
exacted of him by unpleasant circumstances.
Shrewd observers must quickly have observed that Paul III. remained
at heart a Farnese. His son, Pier Luigi, visited him in Rome soon
after his election. Pier Luigi had become a military adventurer, a
feeble emulator of Cæsar Borgia, and by taking arms in the Imperialist
service, had incurred excommunication under Clement. Paul is said to
have received his son in secret and directed him to keep away from
Rome. There was to be no open nepotism. But in a few weeks Pier Luigi
was back in Rome and was observed to have plenty of money. Paul was
crowned on November 3d (1534) and announced his intention to reform the
Church. On, December 18th he bestowed the cardinalate on two of his
nephews, Guido Sforza and Alessandro Farnese. Sforza was a youth of
seventeen; Alessandro was a fourteen-year old pupil at Bologna, yet he
received, besides the red hat, the governorship of Spoleto and such a
number of profitable benefices that he was soon able to outshine some
of the more ostentatious cardinals; and in the next year he was made
Vice-Chancellor. Both he and Sforza were notoriously immoral. Pier
Luigi was made Gonfaloniere, Commander of the Papal troops, and Duke
of Castro; and proportionate benefits were showered on all friends and
connexions of the Farnese family.
It would not be history to dwell on the "obstinacy" of the Reformers
and to fail to emphasize these very pertinent and entirely undisputed
facts; but I will dismiss in few words this aspect of Paul's character.
Nepotism was one of his most persistent traits, and we shall repeatedly
find his direction of Papal policy perverted by a care for the worldly
advancement of his family. He was equally unable and unwilling to
break with the gayer tradition of the Borgia-Medici court. He loved
pageantry and comedy, encouraged the merry riot of the carnival,
favoured astrologers, buffoons, and pseudo-classical poets, and liked
to dine with fair women. It is, perhaps, not much to say that his
private life--at the age of seventy--was irreproachable; but it is not
immaterial to observe that he gave an indulgent eye to the conduct of
the looser cardinals. Instead of sternly attempting to crush that
large body of loose and luxurious cardinals to whom, in the first
place, we may trace the catastrophe of the Church, he added, at each
promotion, a few to their number. Of the seventy-one cardinals he
promoted during his Pontificate the great majority were good men; but
a few were of such a character that their election was, in the actual
situation of the Church, unpardonable.
These little personal details must be considered first if we are to
understand aright the attitude of Paul III. toward reform and the
reforming council. From the first he assured his visitors that he
intended to reform the Church. Before the end of 1534, he appointed
two reform commissions--one on morals and the other on Church offices;
though he chilled the zeal of the more ardent cardinals by enjoining
them to take into account the circumstances. In the spring of 1535, he
prosecuted Cardinal Accolti for grave abuse of his position of legate,
but compromised for a fine of 59,000 scudi. The Reformers of Germany
had from the first appealed to a council, and Paul declared himself
in favour of a council; but he insisted that it must be summoned by
him, presided over by his legates, and held in Italy; and this not
only the princes of the Schmalkaldic League but the three monarchs
concerned emphatically refused. Charles V. saw that such a council
would be--as Paul III. well knew--utterly useless as an instrument of
reconciliation; Francis I. did not want reconciliation at all, since
it would give to Charles command of a united Germany; and Henry VIII.,
who accepted the title of Head of the English Church in 1534, and in
the following year initiated his policy of bloody persecution, had done
with Rome. In fact, instead of giving all the negotiations about a
council, I would point out that there never was the slightest hope by
such a means of ending the schism. Each side was absolutely convinced
of the truth of its formulas, and very few, least of all the Pope,
thought that compromise was possible or desirable. Luther was quite
willing to attend a council, even in Italy; but merely in order to
convince the Church of its errors and abominations. The Pope wanted
a council merely in order to formulate Catholic doctrine in clear
official terms and thus to provide a standard for the condemnation and
extermination of the heretics. No Pope could think otherwise.
Paul at length ventured to announce "to the city and the world" that a
general council would be held at Mantua on the 23d of May, 1537; but
when the Duke of Mantua directed the Pope to send an army to protect
his council, the design was abandoned. A Bull next announced that the
council would meet at Vicenza on May 1, 1538; but as only five prelates
had arrived there when, on May 12th, the three Papal Legates made their
imposing entry--after waiting in nervous hope some distance away--that
project, also, was abandoned. I would not agree that Paul did not
sincerely want a council, but during the first ten years the council he
wanted was an impossibility.
Meantime, the idea of reform by commissions was sustaining the
half-desperate hopes of the better cardinals at Rome. In February,
1537, the commission drew up so sound and true and large a scheme of
reform that the anti-reformers successfully pleaded that it would
injure the Church to publish it, and it remains "a scrap of paper" in
the Vatican Archives. After much discussion, Paul decided to begin
with the reform of the Dataria (an office of the Court which yielded
more than 50,000 ducats a year, nearly half the entire income, to the
Papal exchequer in connexion with the issue of graces, privileges,
dispensations, etc.), and a further long discussion ensued. The
discussion lasted some three years, without practical issue, and it
was not until the end of 1540 that a few obvious reforms could be
carried in some of the departments of the Curia. Characteristic is the
story of one of these reforms. Pressed by the sterner cardinals, who
wrote grave letters to each other on the Pope's conduct, to put an end
to the scandal of non-resident prelates (absentee landlords), Paul
summoned eighty of them, who were living in comfort at Rome, to return
to their dioceses. There was terrible alarm. But they successfully
pleaded that they could not live on the mere incomes of their sees,
and they remained in Rome. Paul had to be content with discharging a
few officials, directing the clergy to reform their lives and their
sermons, and encouraging the new religious congregations: among which
was a certain very small community, calling itself the "Company of
Jesus," which seemed to him, when it first appeared in Rome, eccentric
and of very doubtful value to the Church.
In the meantime, Paul had successfully maintained the political
neutrality which he had from the first contemplated. Francis and
Charles both sought alliance with him, and he tried instead to
reconcile them and avert war. It is to his credit that when Charles,
perceiving his weakness, offered, as the price of alliance, the
marquisate of Novara to Pier Luigi and a principality in Naples to
Pier's son Ottavio, Paul still refused. But the fact that in 1536 he
received Charles with great pomp at Rome irritated Francis, and war
broke out.[304] In view of the advances of the Turks, Paul went in
person to Nice, in the spring of 1538, and reconciled the two monarchs,
but his nepotism again mars the merit of this work. He arranged that
his grandson Ottavio, a boy of thirteen, should marry the Emperor's
natural daughter, Margaret of Austria, a girl-widow of sixteen, who
hated the boy; and their connubial arrangements added, for many years,
to the scandal or the gaiety of Rome. Paul was also severely blamed for
the unscrupulous way in which he wrested the duchy of Camerino from
the Varani and gave it to Ottavio. When Francis violently objected to
this virtual alliance, Paul married his granddaughter Vittoria to a
French prince. Nor were the Reformers pleased when they learned that,
in return for the Emperor's natural daughter, the Pope had granted
to Charles the right to publish indulgences in Spain, and had given
him other privileges which would yield him a million ducats a year of
Church money; and that neither Francis nor Charles would help Italy to
face the Turks.
The unchecked advance of the Turk had, indirectly, another grave
disadvantage for the Papacy. Charles needed the united forces of his
dominions to meet the Turks, and the Protestants profited by his need.
Whatever may be said about the amiable intentions of Paul III., at an
earlier date, he now plainly designed to crush the followers of the
Reformers in the field. He sent his grandson, Cardinal Alessandro
Farnese, to the courts of Francis and of Charles, and the instructions
which he gave him, as well as the letters of the Cardinal himself,
show that he sought, not only their support of his Italian council,
but the co-operation of the monarchs against the Turks and the
Protestants.[305] Both refused, and Charles, in spite of the Pope's
vehement objections, consented to the holding of another conference or
discussion with the representatives of the Protestants. The conference
took place at Hagenau on June 12th, and had, of course, no result, but
a fresh attempt was made at Worms in January 1541, and Paul sent Bishop
Campeggio and four theologians to meet the Protestant divines. It is
needless to discuss the Colloquy in detail, since such experiments
never had the least prospect of success, but the next conference is of
some interest.
Some of the German princes, like the Duke of Bavaria, had no wish to
see a religious reconciliation, since their ambition had a larger
chance of success in a disunited Empire; and Francis I. was only too
eager to support these princes.[306] Other vassals of the Emperor were
irreconcilable Protestants. But there were on both sides a few men of
a moderate disposition, who believed that a round-table conference
might still secure religious peace, if not the old unity. Charles V.
was of this opinion, and he made it a test of the Pope's sincerity that
he should co-operate in a last attempt. Cardinal Contarini, a man of
impressive character and considerable ability, was sent as legate, and
for some time before the opening of the Diet of Ratisbon, he zealously
endeavoured to find the dogmatic formulæ which had some prospect of
common acceptance. Charles had begged the Pope to confer large powers
of concession on his legate, but we now know that Paul gave him but
slender authority, couched in the vaguest of language.[307] If any
attempt were made to settle important points of doctrine, he was to
protest and leave the Diet. In a later instruction, he warned Contarini
not to allow the Emperor to suspect that Rome favoured the use of force
rather than persuasion, and to say, in regard to the proposal that the
Papacy should send 50,000 scudi for the purpose of bribing influential
Protestants, that such a design seemed neither decent nor safe, but
that the 50,000 scudi would be sent "for distribution," if, and when,
a reconciliation was effected.[308] It is plain that Paul foresaw
the complete failure of the Colloquy--we must remember that success
depended entirely on _concession_ and no Pope could make a concession
on doctrine--and intended to make the failure a ground for an appeal to
arms.
The Diet opened on April 27, 1541, and in a few weeks Contarini and
his friends announced with sincere joy that they had reached a common
formula on so delicate a topic as justification. This agreement had
been reached by the Papal Legate accepting a semi-heretical formula,
which Rome afterwards rejected. But the futility of the proceedings
soon became apparent. When they went on to discuss transubstantiation
and penance, priestly celibacy and monastic vows, the antagonism became
acute, and the Colloquy ended in disorder. The Pope rejected all the
formulas approved by his Legate, and wrote him, on June 10th, that
he was sending the 50,000 scudi, and would send a larger sum if the
Catholics found it necessary to draw the sword against the heretics.
Some of the stricter cardinals at Rome, such as Carafa and Toledo, were
now convinced that force was necessary.
In September (1541) the Pope met the Emperor at Lucca. Charles insisted
that the council, whatever form it took, must be held in Germany,
but Paul pleaded that he wished to preside in person and that his
age forbade so lengthy a journey. We shall hardly be unjust if we
regard these pleas as pretexts. The forthcoming council was, in the
Pope's view,--an inevitable view,--to be a canonical gathering for
the stricter definition of the doctrines already rejected by the
Reformers; when that council had formulated the faith, the secular
powers must deal with any who dissented from it. Paul still fought
for the holding of the council in Italy, where he could overwhelm the
Protestant envoys, but as it became entirely certain that not a single
Protestant would come to Italy, he spoke of Cambrai, Metz, and other
alternatives, and at length consented to Trent. Still there was much
friction, and many were not yet convinced that the Pope sincerely
desired a reform-council. Francis I. angrily exclaimed that this
council seemed to be an imperial concern, and he refused to publish
the Bull of Convocation. Charles, on the other side, was annoyed to
find that in the Bull he was put on a level with that perfidious ally
of the infidel, Francis I., and he threatened to keep his German
prelates from going to Trent. But the Pope energetically overbore
all opposition, and the historic Council of Trent was announced for
November 1st. In the meantime (July, 1542), the Pope reconstituted
the Inquisition in Italy and put it under the control of the more
fanatical cardinals like Carafa. It was empowered to imprison heretics,
confiscate their goods, and (with the use of the secular arm) to put
them to death. Dr. Pastor deplores that the Vatican authorities still
refuse to allow access to the records of the Roman Inquisition, so that
we are very imperfectly acquainted with its work.
The Papal Legates arrived at Trent with great pomp, on November 22d,
three weeks after the appointed date, yet not a single bishop had
appeared. Six weeks later the arrival of two bishops gave them a
slender satisfaction, but by the end of March not more than a dozen
bishops--and these mostly Italians--had reached the seat of the
council. Neither Germans nor French would come, and the Italians
thought it prudent not to arrive in a body so as to give to the council
a national complexion. In the summer, Paul went to confer with Charles
at Parma, but the issue of their conference was a bitter disappointment
for the Catholic reformers. Paul proposed to suspend the opening of
the council and to transfer it from Trent, and begged the Emperor to
bring about a compromise with France, by yielding Milan to the Pope's
nephew, Ottavio. Charles refused to assent, and Paul, on his own
account, suspended the council and began to look to Francis I. for the
aggrandizement of his family.
The events which followed make the historian wonder that any have
attempted to clear the character of Paul III. of disgraceful nepotism
and insincerity. Charles V. sought alliance with Henry VIII., and Paul
sent his nephew, Cardinal Farnese, to the Court of Francis I. In that
grave crisis of the Church's fortunes, we have the Catholic Emperor
in alliance with Henry VIII., the most Catholic King in alliance
with the Turks, and the Pope seeking, with a notoriety which gave
great scandal, the enrichment of his illegitimate children and other
relatives. Vittoria Farnese, the Pope's granddaughter, was betrothed
to the Duke of Orleans, and the Pope promised her, from the patrimony
of St. Peter, the duchies of Parma and Piacenza as her dowry. Charles
angrily threatened to invade Rome, and the Spanish and German envoys
at the Vatican used language which had rarely been heard in the Papal
chambers. It is put to the credit of the Pope only that he refused
still to disown or condemn Charles, as Francis demanded, and that he
earnestly sought to reconcile the monarchs. In September, his efforts
bore fruit in the Peace of Crespy. Yet we must recall that, as all
acknowledge, Paul was in part concerned for the security of his family
in refusing to incur the hostility of Charles; and we know that a
secret clause of the Treaty of Crespy compelled Francis and Charles
to unite for the purpose of destroying the Protestants as well as the
Turks.
It was also stipulated at Crespy that the council should at last
begin its labours, and Paul announced that it would open at Trent
on March 25, 1545. But the attempt was again abortive, and only two
bishops greeted the Papal Legates on the appointed date. The Catholic
monarchs did not believe that the Pope was sincere, and the Protestants
were violently opposed to a council on the orthodox Catholic lines.
Cardinal Farnese was sent to induce the Emperor to send his German
bishops, and we now find Charles leaning more decidedly to the plan
of coercion and war. Cardinal Farnese writes in high spirits to his
uncle that Charles is, in alliance with the Papacy, about to make
war on the Protestants; and it is unhappily characteristic that he
adds that this alliance may turn to the great profit of the Farnese
family.[309] In fact, the Cardinal returned to Rome with all speed, in
disguise, and Paul promised 100,000 ducats and 12,000 men for the war,
besides granting Charles a half-year's income of the Spanish Church and
permission to raise 500,000 ducats by the sale of monastic property.
The eagerness of the Pope at this adoption of a design he had so long
cherished may be judged from the fact that his courier to Charles left
Rome on June 16th and reached Worms by the 23d. Charles, however, had
begun to waver in his brave resolution, and the war was postponed; but
the advancement of the Farnesi was not forgotten. The duchies of Parma
and Piacenza were now given to Pier Luigi, and the Pope met the violent
protests of the cardinals with a statistical "proof" that the duchies
were of less value than a few small places which his son surrendered
to the Holy See. The annoyance of the reforming prelates was complete
when the Pope issued a medal representing a naked Ganymede leaning on
an eagle and watering the lily which was the emblem of the Farnese
family.[310]
Charles would not consent to the removal of the council to Bologna,
and it was at length opened at Trent on December 13, 1545, with an
attendance of four archbishops and twenty-one bishops. The first
session was purely formal, and the second session (January 7th) was
occupied by a violent discussion on procedure. The Emperor feared that
a formulation of Catholic doctrines would close the door of the Church
definitively against the Germans, and he insisted that the reform
of morals and discipline must come first. Paul feared that, if the
question of reform came first, the council would almost resolve itself
into a trial of the Papacy; and there is good ground to think that,
on the other hand, he wanted the doctrines in dispute formulated as a
preliminary step to the more drastic condemnation of the Reformers.
The conflict ended in compromise: each sitting of the council was to
consider both doctrine and reform. The correspondence of the legates
with the Pope[311] shows how vehemently Paul fought for his plan, and
it was only at their very grave and emphatic assurance that reform must
proceed--that deeds, not Bulls, were wanted, as they put it--that he
agreed to the compromise.
The fathers of the council, who, at the end of June, had risen in
number to about sixty, had held two further sessions, and had discussed
only a few dogmas and measures of reform when their labours were again
suspended by the outbreak of the religious war. The Protestants had
naturally refused to attend the Papal council, and had continued to
spread their faith in the north. Paul, therefore, urged Charles to
carry out his design of repressing them by arms, and in June (1546)
a secret treaty was signed by Charles V., the Duke of Bavaria,
Ferdinand I., and the Pope uniting their forces for an attack upon the
Schmalkaldic dissenters. In order to prevent Charles from again losing
his resolution, the Pope dishonourably communicated this treaty to the
Protestants, nor was Charles less angry with Paul for representing to
France, Poland, and Venice that the impending struggle was a religious
crusade in which any Catholic people might assist. It was the policy
of Charles to place his enterprise on purely secular grounds. There
was again grave friction between Charles and the Pope, and the Farnesi
mingled with the graver issues a petulant complaint that Charles had
done so little for them.
The Protestants, however, were badly organized and were soon defeated.
Paul bitterly complained that Charles would not follow up his victory
by initiating a policy of persecution in south Germany, and would not,
when Henry VIII. died (1547), join forces with Francis I. for the
invasion of England; and another fiery quarrel ensued. The prelates
at Trent conceived that they were menaced by the distant and subdued
Protestants, and Paul quickly availed himself of the apprehension
to demand a removal to Italy. Charles went so far as to threaten to
confiscate the whole of the property of the Church in Germany, but a
convenient epidemic broke out at Trent and Paul removed the council to
Bologna. Another year was spent in discussion as to the validity of the
transfer, and the rumour that the Pope secretly desired to frustrate
the work of reform once more gained ground. This is, as I explained, a
half-truth. But so little reform was actually achieved during the life
of Paul that I need not deal further here with the Council of Trent.
The year 1648 was filled with the acrid conflict of Pope and Emperor.
Paul drew nearer to France, and Rome, believing that at length the
Pope was about to abandon his policy of neutrality, prepared once
more for invasion. Charles made no descent on Italy, but he now took
a step which seemed to the Pope almost as scandalous an outrage. He
issued his famous Interrim: a document which enacted that, until the
points in dispute were settled by a council, priests might marry, the
laity might communicate from the chalice, and vague and conciliatory
interpretations might be put on the doctrines of the Church. In spite
of the intrigues of France, Paul wearily maintained his negotiations
with Charles, and, to the last, pressed the ambitions of his family. In
October (1549), however, his favourite grandson rebelled against his
decision in regard to Parma, and the aged Pope abandoned the unhappy
struggle. He died on November 10th of that year.
In spite of the efforts of some recent historians, the character of
Paul does not stand out with distinction in the Papal chronicle. His
lamentable nepotism mars his whole career, and his real reluctance to
press the work of reform did grave injury to his Church. He belonged
essentially to the earlier phase of the Papacy, and it is apparent
that, if he could have extirpated Protestantism by the sword, the
Papacy would have returned to the more decent levities of the days of
Leo X. As it was, he did comparatively little for either culture or
religion. He very cordially employed Michael Angelo and Sangallo, and
showed a concern for the antiquities and the monuments of Rome. He had
ability, power, and taste; but he had not that fiery will for reform
and that deep religious faith which were needed in that hour of danger.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 302: For the valuable letters of the Italian ambassadors at
the time of the Conclave see _L'Elezione del Papa Paolo III._ (1907)
by P. Accame. An almost contemporary biography of Paul is given in the
_Vitæ et Res Gestæ Romanorum Pontificum_ of Ciaconius.]
[Footnote 303: XI., 19-20.]
[Footnote 304: See, for this aspect of Paul's Pontificate, an article
by L. Cardauns, "Paul III., Karl V., und Franz I.," in _Quellen und
Forschungen aus Italienischen Archiven_, Bd. XI., Heft I., pp. 147-244.
The writer holds that an alliance with Charles was advisable with a
view to crush Protestantism. There is certainly much evidence that Paul
wished to discover which of the rival monarchs would do most for his
children, yet he assuredly had a sincere desire for neutrality.]
[Footnote 305: See _Nuntiaturberichte aus Deutschland_, edited by W.
Friedensberg, V. 140 and 59. Many useful documents will also be found
in H. Loemmer's _Monumenta Vaticana historiam ecclesiasticam sæculi
XVI. illustrantia_, 1861.]
[Footnote 306: See the report of the Venetian ambassador in _Le
Relazioni degli ambasciatori Veneti_, edited by C. Alberi, 1st series.]
[Footnote 307: E. Dietrich, _Kardinal Contarini_ (1885), p. 565.]
[Footnote 308: This curious side-light on the history of the
Reformation is given, in a document reproduced from the secret archives
of the Vatican, by Dr. Pastor (xi., 431).]
[Footnote 309: Farnese's letter to the Pope is reproduced by A. von
Druffel, _Karl V. und die Römische Kurie_, ii., 57.]
[Footnote 310: It is described in A. Armand, _Les Médailleurs
Italiens_, i., 172.]
[Footnote 311: See Pallavicini's _Istoria del Consilio di Trento_, bks.
vi. and vii.]
CHAPTER XVI
SIXTUS V. AND THE NEW CHURCH
The Council of Trent, which had been convoked with the formal aim of
healing the great schism of Christendom, hardened that schism and made
it irremediable. I have already observed how natural it was that the
Papacy should refuse to make open confession of its decay, and in some
degree surrender its authority, by permitting the Church to reform,
not only its members, but its head. The inevitable conception of the
Popes was to retain the work of reform in their own hands and to use
the council, if council there must be,--we have seen that Popes had
reason to look with suspicion on councils,--to secure an agreement on
doctrinal standards by which the Inquisitors might judge, and secular
princes might exterminate, heretics. They miscalculated the power of
the northern rebels and the chances of an unselfish cohesion of the
Catholic princes against them. Nearly half of Europe adopted a new
version of the Christian faith, and, when the Thirty Years' War finally
proved the indestructibility of that creed, the task of the Papacy
was narrowed to the ruling and reforming of southern Europe and the
spiritual conquest of the new worlds which had appeared beyond the
seas. For this fourth phase of Papal development--the period from the
consolidation of the Reformation to the first outbreak of Modernism in
the French Revolution--the Pontificates of Sixtus V. and Benedict XIV.
are the most illuminating and significant.
Even the failure of Paul III. did not entirely banish from the Vatican
the levity which had been the immediate cause of its disaster. Julius
III. (1550-1555) at first resumed, somewhat reluctantly, the sittings
of the Council of Trent, but he again suspended its work in 1552
and entered upon a period of luxurious ease and frivolous enjoyment
which deeply shocked the graver cardinals. At his death the fiery
Neapolitan reformer, Cardinal Carafa, who had dictated the more
severe decisions of Paul III., received the tiara, and he spent four
energetic years (1555-1559) in a relentless attack upon heresy in
Catholic lands. He made vigorous use of the Inquisition, which Paul
III. had (largely at the instigation of St. Ignatius) set up in Rome,
and he published a complete Index of Prohibited Books.[312] But his
reforms, his heresy-hunts, and his hostility to Spain were enforced
with such harshness that the Romans almost cursed his memory when his
short Pontificate came to an end. It is a singular illustration of the
tenacity of abuses at Rome that even the austere Carafa was a nepotist,
and the nephews he favoured were of so unworthy a character that they
were executed--though one of them was a cardinal--by his successor.
Pius IV. (1559-65) was a more persuasive reformer: a Milanese of lowly
origin but of some distinction in canonical scholarship. He guided to
their close the labours of the Council of Trent,[313] and on January
26, 1564, put the Papal seal on the precise formulation of the Roman
creed. Pius V. (1565-72) brought to the Papal throne the austere ideals
of a sincere Dominican monk. He was not content with persecuting the
Italians who criticized the Papacy; he did much to reform the Papal
Court and the city. Gregory XIII. (1572-85), a scholarly Pope, mingled
in strange proportion the virtues and vices of his predecessors.
His name survives honourably in the Gregorian Calendar, and he did
more than any other Pope to encourage the spread of that network of
Jesuit colleges throughout southern Europe which proved so effective a
hindrance to the advance of Protestantism; but the _Te Deum_ he sang
over the foul "St. Bartholomew Massacre" (1572) and the condition of
infuriated rebellion in which he left the Papal States at his death
betray his defects. The Papal income had fallen considerably since the
loss of England and north Germany and Scandinavia, yet Gregory wished
to pay heavy subsidies to the militant Catholic princes. He imposed
such taxes, and aroused such fierce anger by seizing estates after
disputing the title-deeds of the owners, that Italy almost slew him
with its hatred.
In these circumstances the famous Sixtus V. mounted the Papal throne.
Felice Peretti had been born at Grottamare, in the March of Ancona, on
December 13, 1521. The unwonted vigour of his character is traced by
some to the Dalmatian blood of his ancestors, who, in the preceding
century, had fled before the Turks to Italy. They had preserved their
robust health, and attained no fortune, by work on the soil, and there
is not the least improbability in the tradition--which some recent
writers resent--that Felice at one time tended his father's swine.[314]
But at the age of nine he was sent to the friary at Montalto, where
he had an uncle, and he proved a good student. He became so excellent
a preacher that he was summoned to give the Lenten Sermons at Rome in
1552, and he attracted the notice of St. Ignatius and St. Philip Neri,
and of some of the graver cardinals. After presiding over one or two
convents of his Order, he was put in charge of the friary at Venice in
1556, and was in the next year made Counsellor to the Inquisition. His
ardent nature and strict ideals caused him to use his powers with such
harshness that both his brethren and the Venetian government attacked
him. He was forced several times to retire, and in 1560 Rome was
definitively compelled to withdraw him.
The fact that he had been thwarted by lax brethren and by an (from
the Roman point of view) irreligious government commended the fiery
monk still further to his reformer-friends. He received a chair at the
Sapienza (Roman University) and was made Counsellor to the Holy Office.
In 1565 Cardinal Buoncompagni was sent on a mission to Spain, and,
apparently to the Cardinal's disgust, the learned friar was included
in his train. The sincerely religious temper of Sixtus V. makes it
difficult for some of his biographers to understand his very original
character. In spite of his virtue he was quite clearly ambitious,--one
must live in the ecclesiastical world to realize how the ambition of
power and the ambition to do good fuse with each other in the clerical
mind,--he had an atrocious temper, and he retained what higher-born
prelates would call the rudeness of a peasant. He quarrelled with
Buoncompagni, and, as the mission was never really discharged, he had
no opportunity to distinguish himself. However, the new Pope (for whose
election Buoncompagni returned prematurely to Rome) was the friendly
Dominican colleague, Pius V. Padre Montalto was made Vicar Apostolic
over the Franciscan Order--the General having died--and he made a
drastic effort to reform the reluctant friars and nuns (1566-1568). For
this he received the red hat (1570) and was entrusted with the task of
editing the works of St. Ambrose.
Unhappily for the ambitious cardinal-monk, Pius V. died in 1572, and
Cardinal Buoncompagni ascended the throne and took the name of Gregory
XIII. He withdrew the pension which Pius had assigned to Felice, and
for the next thirteen years the Cardinal had to live in retirement
and comparative poverty. In this again the very original character
of Peretti reveals itself. One might expect that so stern a monastic
reformer would retire to a friary when the Papal Court no longer
required his presence, but he retired, instead, to his very comfortable
palace and garden on the Esquiline. He had brought his sister Camilla
and her son Francesco to live in this palace, and even romance and
tragedy entered the friar's home. Francesco had married a beautiful
and light-minded Roman girl, and her brother, Paolo Orsini, murdered
Francesco in order to set her free for a nobler lover. The uncle could
get no redress under Gregory XIII. He curbed his anger, quietly bent
over his books, and watched the rising storm in Italy which was to
close Gregory's reign.
Gregory died on April 10, 1585, and Cardinal Montalto was enclosed with
his colleagues in the Sistine Chapel on April 21st for the making of
a new Pope. He was in his sixty-fourth year, and his more malicious
biographer would have us believe that he disguised his robustness
under a pretence of decrepit age in order to deceive the cardinals.
The fact seems to be that he waited quietly, and without taking sides,
in his cell until the factions had worn themselves out and the hour
had come for choosing a man who had not been regarded as _papabile_.
Most assuredly he deceived the cardinals, though not by any dishonest
artifice. For three days the Medici and Colonna and Farnese, and the
French and Spanish factions, fought their traditional battle, and not
one of the aspirants could get a majority. Then one or two cardinals
bethought themselves of this quiet Cardinal Montalto, who had lived
away on the Esquiline with his rustic sister for so many years, and who
would surely be grateful to any for elevating him to the throne. They
visited Montalto and found him humbly and gratefully disposed: they
intrigued nervously and rapidly in the little colony: and presently
cardinals rushed to do homage to the former swineherd and applaud
the Pontificate of Sixtus V. He was duly grateful, for a few days.
Lucrative appointments were at once divided amongst his friends and
supporters; though some fear seized men when one of the cardinals
ventured to bring before the new Pope the murderer of his nephew, and
Sixtus, in sombre and terrible accents, bade the Orsini go and rid
himself of his cut-throats. He was crowned on May 1st, and he lost
little time in applying himself to the drastic schemes of reform which
he had, apparently, matured in his peaceful garden on the Esquiline.
Yet the first act of the reformer betrays a defect and compels us to
deal at once with the chief irregularity of his conduct. After the
unhappy nepotism of Paul IV., that ancient and disreputable practice
had been severely condemned, yet we find it flagrantly and immediately
revived by Sixtus himself. It was, as we shall see, an essential
part of his scheme to reform the College of Cardinals, and he would
presently enact that no one should be raised to the cardinalate under
the age of twenty-one, and no man with a son or grandson should attain
the dignity. Yet within a fortnight of his coronation he announced
that his grand-nephew, Alexander Peretti, a boy of thirteen, would
be raised to the Sacred College, and another young grand-nephew was
appointed Governor of the Borgo of St. Peter's and Captain of the Papal
Guard. Their sisters were similarly enriched by noble alliances in
later years. This grave impropriety is not excused by references to
the ambition and determination of the Pope's sister Camilla; indeed,
the wealth which that lady now obtained, and the notoriety with which
she invested it in Rome, rather increased the Pope's guilt. He was
assuredly not less strong of will than she. The defect shows how deeply
rooted the evil was at Rome, when so resolute a reformer yields to it
within a few years of the Protestant convulsion of Europe.
With this single concession to the older traditions, however, Sixtus
turned energetically to the work of reform. The condition of the
Papal States under Gregory XIII. had become scandalous. The leading
officials sold the lesser offices to corrupt men, and these in turn
recovered their money by receiving bribes to overlook crime. Brigandage
of the most licentious character spread over Italy, and even Roman
nobles supported bands of swordsmen who would with impunity rid them
of an inconvenient husband, force the doors of a virtuous woman's
house, or relieve the pilgrim of his money. A law prohibiting the use
of firearms had been passed, but it had become the fashion to ignore
law and police. The picture which Sixtus himself gives us in his early
Bulls is amazing when we recall that, only a few years before, the
future of the Church had depended in no small measure on the morals of
Rome and Italy.
Sixtus had no cause to spare the memory of his predecessor, and he
turned with truculence to the remedy of this disorder. Before the end
of April he had four young men belonging to high Roman families hanged
on gibbets, like common murderers, for carrying firearms in spite of
the decree. At the Carnival he erected two gibbets, one at each end
of the Corso, to intimidate roysterers from the use of the knife. On
April 30th he, in his Bull _Hoc Nostri_, enacted the most drastic
punishment for brigands and all who should support or tolerate them;
and on June 1st he caused the Roman government to put a price on their
heads. The nobles of Rome, who had included these picturesque criminals
in their suites, were ordered, under the direst penalties, to yield or
dismiss them, and even cardinals were threatened with imprisonment if
they retained servants of that character. Such was the amazement of
Rome that the wits are said to have dressed the statue of St. Peter
for a journey and put into its mouth the reply, when St. Paul was
supposed to ask the meaning of his travelling costume, that he feared
that Sixtus was about to prosecute him for cutting off the ear of the
high-priest's servant. From Rome the terror spread throughout the Papal
States. Thousands--including renegade monks and mothers who prostituted
their daughters--were executed or slain, and the bands fled to neutral
territory. Thither the merciless hand of the Pope pursued them, and a
few liberal concessions to the other Italian Powers induced them to
fling back the banditti upon the arms of the Papal troops or the knives
of those who sought blood-money.
That Sixtus pursued this very necessary campaign with absolute
truculence and a disdain of delicacy in the use of means cannot be
questioned, but, though the fact does not adorn his character, we know
too well the licentious condition of Italy to waste our sympathy on
his victims. The most stubborn and audacious outlaws fell in a few
years before his attack. At Bologna, for instance, the Pepoli and the
Malvezzi had for years sustained one of those terrible feuds which had
so long disgraced the central State of Christendom. They laughed at
Papal injunctions. Sixtus had Count Pepoli treacherously seized, tried
(in his absence) at Rome, and decapitated. His followers, and those of
the Malvezzi, scattered in alarm, and Bologna was not merely relieved
of oppressive criminals, but was adorned with new buildings and
enriched with educational institutions by the triumphant Pope. Later,
in order to extinguish the embers of animosity, he promoted one of the
Pepoli to the cardinalate. The feuds of the Gaetani, the Colonna, and
other old families were similarly trodden out, or healed by marriages
with grand-nieces of the Pope, and Italy became more sober and more
prosperous than it had been for ages. Unhappily, the reform died with
Sixtus and anarchy returned.
This campaign occupied a few years, but it had no sooner been launched
than Sixtus produced other of the plans he had prepared in his secluded
palace. I have shown how deeply the corruption of the College of
Cardinals affected the religious history of Europe, and Sixtus began
very quickly to reform it. It was, perhaps, not his misunderstood
promise of gratitude to the cardinals who had elected him, but
some feeling of incongruity with his own conduct in promoting his
boy-nephews, which restrained him for a time. However that may be, he
turned to the problem in the second year of his Pontificate, and his
Bull _Postquam Verus_[315] laid down severe rules for the sustained
improvement of the College. The number of cardinals was restricted to
seventy (as is still the rule); illegitimates, and men who had sons and
grandsons to favour, were excluded; and a cleric must have attained
an age of at least twenty-two years before he could be promoted. In
order to distribute and expedite the work of administration, he further
divided the cardinals into fifteen "congregations" (some of which
already existed), such as those of the Inquisition, of Public Works, of
the Vatican Press, and so on.
We can hardly doubt that in this division he had an ulterior aim.
The earlier procedure had been for the Pope to lay a question before
the whole body of the cardinals and discuss it with them. Sixtus
continued to do this, but the cardinals soon found that, although he
desired discussion, he turned fiery eyes, and even showered rough and
offensive epithets, on any who opposed his plans. He was essentially
an autocrat, and the impetuosity which was inseparable from so robust
a character made him an unpleasant autocrat. The advantage to him
of splitting the cardinals into small groups was that, on any grave
question, he had merely to take account of the consultative opinion of
a few cardinals. His more admiring biographers record that he rarely
dissented from the conclusions of his congregations; in point of fact,
he decided grave issues before consulting them, or made his will
unmistakably clear to them. His own promotions were generally sound,
though he at times strained his regulations in favour of a friend. But
he greatly improved the College of Cardinals, and made an admirable
effort to exclude from it nationalist influences.
We must not, on the other hand, suppose that these congregations of
cardinals count in any degree--except as the mere executive of his
will--in the great work of his Pontificate. His own teeming brain and
iron will are the sole sources of the mighty achievements of those five
years. He had studied the Papal problem on all sides and was prepared
at once to remedy a disorder or design a new structure. Agriculture
and industry were feeble and unprosperous throughout the Papal States.
Ruinous taxation, lawless oppression, and the ease with which one
obtained one's bread at the innumerable monasteries, had demoralized
the country and ruined the Papal treasury. Sixtus had some of the
qualities of an economist--we still possess the careful account book he
kept in his days of monastic authority--and he was especially concerned
to nurse the Papal income in view of certain grandiose plans which he
seems to have held in reserve, so that he applied himself zealously to
this problem. It is generally agreed that his work here is a singular
compound of shrewdness and blundering. By his restoration of public
security he lifted a burden from agriculture, and he made special
efforts to encourage the woollen industry and the silk industry.[316]
He, at great cost, brought a good supply of water, from an estate
twenty miles away, to Rome, and by this means and by the cutting of
new roads re-established some population on the hills, which had
long been almost deserted. We find Camilla speculating profitably in
this extension of the city, but the more important point is that the
population of Rome rose in five years from 70,000 to 100,000; still,
however, only one tenth of the population of Imperial Rome. The Pope
also gave a water-supply to Civita Vecchia and drained its marshes;
and he spent--with very little result in this case--200,000 ducats in
draining the marshes at Terracina, which he personally inspected in
1588.
Yet the admiration which his biographers bestow on his finance is
misplaced. It seems to have been chiefly in his native March of
Ancona that he granted relief from the heavy taxes and imposts of his
predecessor; the Papal States generally were still ruinously taxed,
even in the necessaries of life. His hoarding of specie, partly for
excellent but partly for visionary purposes, injured commerce; and
such measures as his prohibition of the sale of landed property to
foreigners were short-sighted. The rise of the Papal income, which
enabled him to store 4,500,000 scudi (about 8,000,000 dollars) in five
years, besides spending large sums on public works, was chiefly due to
deplorable methods. The income from the issue of indulgences had now
fallen very low--it had not wholly ceased, as some say, since they
are still issued in Spain--and little money came from Spain or France.
The fixed Papal income had fallen to 200,000 scudi a year, and in the
expenditure of this the friar-pope made an economy of 140,000 scudi a
year by reducing table-charges, dismissing superfluous servants, and
(as is often forgotten) giving to other servants church-benefices so
that they needed no salary. The result was still far too small for the
creation of a fund, and Sixtus sold honours and offices as flagrantly
as any Pope had done since Boniface IX. He sold positions which had
never been sold before, and he created new marketable titles. He
debased the coinage and imposed a tax on money-lenders. He carried
to a remarkable extent the new Papal system of _Monti_.[317] He
withdrew offices which Gregory XIII. had sold, and transferred them to
higher bidders; and he must have known how the officials would recoup
themselves.
By these means he raised his hoard, which seems to have been gathered
for some visionary grand campaign against the Protestants and the
Turks. We at once recall Julius II., but it is a comparison which
the work of Sixtus V. cannot sustain; he was not so great a ruler as
Julius, and he fell on less prosperous times. I must add, however,
that part of his reserve fund was destined for practical uses. In 1586
famine and Turks and pirates caused grave distress in Italy. Sixtus did
not even then abolish his heavy taxes on the necessaries of life and
the means of distributing them, but he bought 100,000 crowns' worth of
corn in Sicily, fixed the price of flour and punished unjust dealers,
and set about collecting a fund of a million scudi to meet such
emergencies. He was not economist enough to see the roots of the evil,
and fair, fertile Italy continued to suffer under the unhappy Papal
system.
The Pope's tenderness to the Jews was part of his crude financial
policy. A Portuguese Jew, who had fled from the Inquisition, was
his chief fiscal adviser, and Sixtus interpreted in the most genial
manner the current teaching of theologians, that, since the Jews
were irreparably damned on a greater count, they might lend money at
interest, and the Papacy might tax their wealth. Baron Huebner, in a
moment of unusual candour, corrects some of the less discriminating
biographers: Sixtus, he says, "protected the Jews in order to exploit
them."[318] Pius V. had expelled the Jews from all parts of the
Papal States except Rome and the March of Ancona, and Sixtus, by his
constitution _Hebræorum Gens_, cancelled the restriction and ordered
Christians to treat the Jews and their synagogues with respect. We
feel that interest led Sixtus on to a more human feeling. He dispensed
the unhappy Jews from wearing the odious yellow dress which Christian
princes and prelates imposed on them, and for a few years, in that one
corner of Europe, they enjoyed the life of human beings.
Sixtus was less lenient to the Jesuits than to the Jews. The primitive
fervour of the Society was already dimmed by prosperity or perverted
by casuistry, and complaints came to Rome from all parts. Having
been a Franciscan monk, Sixtus was not well disposed toward the new
congregation, which had aroused the hostility of the older religious
bodies. He used to observe, in his grim, meditative way: "Who are
these men who make us bow our heads at the mention of their name?" He
referred to the Catholic practice of inclining the head at the mention
of the name of Jesus, but he disliked the whole constitution of the
Society and resented the privileges it had won from his predecessors.
A prolonged quarrel of the worldly and degenerate Jesuits of Spain
with General Acquaviva gave him an opportunity to intervene, and he
ordered an inquiry into their rules. In 1590 he announced that he would
alter the name and the constitutions of the Society. Acquaviva stirred
such Catholic monarchs as were docile to his brethren to petition the
Pope in their favour, but Sixtus was not prepared to listen to the
suggestions, in ecclesiastical affairs, of worldly princes. Acquaviva
then persuaded Cardinal Carafa, to whom the inquiry had been entrusted,
to prolong his inquiry, and it became a race between the failing energy
of the Pope and the intrigues of the Jesuits. Rome witnessed the
contest with the interest it had once bestowed on the chariot-races
of the Blues and the Greens. The inquiry was transferred to other
prelates, and, when these also were suborned, Sixtus peremptorily
ordered Acquaviva to request that the name of the Society should be
changed. The petition was reluctantly made, the Bull authorizing the
change of name was drafted and--Sixtus V. died before he put his name
to it. In the circumstances it was inevitably whispered that Jesuit
poison had ended the Pope's life, but the legend was as superfluous as
it was familiar.[319]
The rest of the Pope's administrative work must be briefly recorded
before we pass to the consideration of his political activity. He
attempted to restrict the prodigality of the Romans in dress, food,
funeral and wedding expenses, etc., but this sumptuary legislation[320]
was not enforced. He found general and disgraceful laxity in the
convents of nuns, and enacted a death-penalty against offenders: the
same penalty he, with his habitual truculence, imposed for cheating at
cards or dice. He directed the police to cleanse Rome of prostitutes
and astrologers, reformed the prisons,[321] made provision for widows
and orphans, pressed the redemption of captives,[322] and constructed
ten galleys for the defence of the Italian coast against the Turks
and pirates. He cleared of debt the Roman University (Sapienza) and
restored it to its full activity. He engaged Fontana to crown St.
Peter's with its long-deferred cupola, and threw such energy into the
work that he almost completed in twenty-two months a task which the
builders expected to occupy ten years. He, with equal vigour, set up
the obelisks in front of St. Peter's, reconstructed the Lateran Palace
in part, and restored the columns of Trajan and Antoninus; though, in
a naïve desire to express the triumph of Christianity over Paganism,
he put statues of Peter and Paul on the ancient Roman pedestals.[323]
He also set up a press in the Vatican Library, which he restored and
decorated, and from this he issued the Latin version of the Bible
which the Council of Trent had ordered, as well as the works of St.
Ambrose and St. Bonaventure.
The magnitude of this domestic program and the vigour of the
sexagenarian Pope are enhanced when we further learn that his brief
Pontificate was, as usual, occupied with grave political problems.
With German affairs the Papacy had now little concern, but we must
record that Sixtus permitted some of the Catholic bishops to allow
the laity to communicate in both kinds. To England he devoted more
attention, though his violent and undiplomatic methods only made
worse the position of the Catholics in that country. Mary Stuart
contrived to write to him, after she had been condemned, and he spoke
of Elizabeth to the cardinals as "the English Jezabel." He urged Henry
III. to intercede for Mary and himself wrote a defence of her. When
she was executed, he spurred Philip I. in his designs against England
and promised him 500,000 florins when his fleet reached England and
a further half million when the Spaniards occupied London. When an
English spy was detected at Rome, Sixtus ordered his tongue to be cut
out and his hand struck off before he was beheaded. In defiance of
his own decree he bestowed the cardinalate on William Allen, and he
directed Allen to translate (for distribution in England) the Bull in
which he enumerated the dark crimes of Elizabeth, renewed the sentence
of excommunication against her, and declared her subjects released from
their allegiance. These measures, which only increased the sufferings
of the Catholics, betray again the limitation of the Pope's vigorous
intelligence, and, when the Armada sank, he turned from Spain to France
and realized the futility of his policy.
The chief political problem was, however, the attitude of Rome toward
the rival Catholic Powers, Spain and France, and the less important
action of Sixtus in Venice (which, as a bulwark against the Protestant
north, he sought, in spite of his old grievances, to conciliate), Savoy
(where he compelled the Duke to refrain from appointing bishops),
Besançon (where he forced upon the reluctant chapter a friar-friend
whom he had made Archbishop), Belgium (where he demanded a truce
between the University and the Jesuits), and Switzerland (where he
attempted in vain to restrain the secular authorities), need not be
considered at length. The French problem, complicated by the ambition
of Spain, might have given anxious hours to a more astute statesman
than Sixtus, and we shall hardly expect a man with so little subtlety
to reach a distinguished solution of it.
The ineptness of Catherine de' Medici and the folly and profligacy
of her diseased son, Henry III., had brought France to a dangerous
pass. Henry of Guise coveted the throne, under a pretence of zeal for
the Church: Henry of Navarre grimly awaited his natural succession
to it: and Philip of Spain dreamed of annexing France, as well as
England, to his swollen dominion. The Spanish representative at Rome,
Count Olivarez, who nourished a secret disdain of the peasant-Pope,
urged Sixtus to eliminate Henry of Navarre from the competition by
excommunication, for having relapsed to the Protestant creed, and,
on September 5, 1585, Sixtus issued against him and the Prince of
Condé the Bull _Ab Immenso_. Henry of Navarre retorted cheerfully
that the Pope was himself a heretic, and Henry III. angrily drove the
Pope's new Nuncio from France; to which Sixtus retorted by expelling
from Rome Henry's representative, the Marquis Pisani. To the great
delight of Philip and the Catholic League, Henry III., feeble and
distracted, humbly submitted, and was compelled to put pressure on
the remaining Protestants. Sixtus, in fact, promised Henry a Spanish
army from the Netherlands to assist in coercing the Huguenots, and
urged him to co-operate with Philip and with the League (under Guise).
In his exclusive, and entirely natural, concern for the orthodoxy of
the country, Sixtus failed to understand in any degree its peculiar
political condition or the utterly selfish designs of Guise and of
Philip. He was impelling the country toward civil war.
In 1587 the Germans invaded France, and Henry of Navarre in turn
confronted the troops of the League. Some small initial victories of
the League led the Pope to congratulate the Duke of Guise in the most
extravagant language, and it was only the fear of exasperating Philip
that restrained him from bestowing on the Duke's son the hand of one
of his grand-nieces. One cannot suppose that Sixtus failed to see that
Guise had ambition, but he showed little penetration of character in
admonishing the Duke to recover Paris for Henry III. and to assist that
monarch to set up the Inquisition in France and exterminate heresy.
The Nuncio's letters show that he was, under the Pope's instructions,
absorbed in a futile effort to reconcile the Duke and the King, and it
is said that Sixtus angrily advised the effeminate monarch either to
make a friend of Guise or to destroy him. Even Henry III. showed more
appreciation of the political situation.
Sixtus turned impatiently toward Spain and encouraged the designs of
Philip. On July 15, 1588, he signed a treaty with the League and Spain,
and the new alliance promised the complete eradication of heresy from
France. The failure of the Armada and the Pope's habitual distrust of
Philip clouded the alliance for a time, but Henry III. was not willing
to accept the Pope's terms for a transfer of his affections. Sixtus
was especially eager to have the decrees of the Council of Trent
published in France. To this the Gallican clergy objected, and Henry
himself declared that he would publish them only "salvis juribus regis
et regni": a phrase which Sixtus, to use his own words, "cursed." Even
when, to the Pope's extreme anger, Henry had the Duke and the Cardinal
of Guise assassinated, Sixtus remained too irresolute to derive
advantage from the King's remorse or apprehension, though the Spaniards
and the League gained ground at Rome. Henry III., indeed, entered into
alliance with the Protestant Henry against the League, and Sixtus was
content to issue a fresh threat of excommunication against the Huguenot.
But the assassination of the King in August (1589) simplified the
situation, and Sixtus definitely allied himself with Spain and the
League against Henry IV.: a very natural, but equally impolitic,
decision. Venice recognized Henry, and the Pope at first recalled
his Nuncio from Venice and then, hearing the success of the new
King, ordered him to return. Sixtus was beginning to appreciate the
situation, and, when the Duke of Luxemburg came to Rome to tell of
Henry's willingness to reconsider his religious position, he was
amiably received. The Spaniards made a last violent struggle, and even
threatened to arraign the Pope for heresy before a General Council, but
Sixtus now saw his way clearly. Throughout the year 1590 he braved the
threats of the Spaniards and watched the progress of Henry IV., but
the struggle against Spaniards and Jesuits was too exacting for a man
of his years and he succumbed to fever on August 24th.
Sixtus must unhesitatingly be included among the great Popes, but it is
perplexing to read, as one often does, that he was "one of the greatest
of the Popes." The work he accomplished in five years is far greater
than most of the Popes achieved, or would have achieved, in twenty
years, and at least the greater part of his reform-work in Rome and
Italy was of considerable value. Yet even here we must not overlook his
defects: he transgressed his own regulations when he would gratify his
affections, he enforced reforms with harshness and violence, and he
greatly lessened the value of his economic work by hoarding a vast sum
for the purpose (apparently) of conducting a visionary grand campaign
against Turks and heretics. His political attitude was, as I have
shown, injudicious and irresolute. Both in character and statesmanship
he falls far short of the greater Popes, and it is, perhaps, some
indication of the evil plight of the Church that Sixtus V. should be
the ablest man it could produce in a century of grave and persistent
danger.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 312: See Dr. G.H. Putnam's _Censorship of the Church of Rome_
(2 vols., 1907), i., 168.]
[Footnote 313: See, besides the work of Pallavicini already quoted,
Paolo Sarpi's _Istoria del Concilio Tridentino_.]
[Footnote 314: It is, however, true that the hostile Italian
biographer, Gregorio Leti (_Vita di Sisto Quinto_, 3 vols., 1693),
who tells this must be read with discretion; and we must use equal
discretion in reading Tempesti's _Storia della Vita e Geste di Sisto
V._ (1754), which is inspired by a contrary determination to praise
Sixtus. I need recommend only the full and generally judicious
biography of Sixtus which we owe to Baron de Hübner (_Sixte Quint_,
3 vols., 1870), remarking that in it the panegyrical tendency is
more conspicuous than the critical. For a smaller biography M.A.J.
Dumesnil's _Histoire de Sixte-Quint_ (1869) is excellent.]
[Footnote 315: December 5, 1586.]
[Footnote 316: Bull _Quum Sicut_, May 28, 1586. Bull _Quum Alias_,
December 17, 1585.]
[Footnote 317: Recent Popes had established what was, in effect, a
system of life assurance. A large money-payment secured an income for
life out of the proceeds of certain taxes. Sixtus multiplied these
_Monti_ (as the funds were called) in order to obtain a large sum of
money at once, and he thus mortgaged the resources of the Holy See.
Ranke, whose chapters on Sixtus are amongst his best, heavily censures
the Pope's finance.]
[Footnote 318: I., 349.]
[Footnote 319: See the author's _Candid History of the Jesuits_ (1913),
pp. 110-113.]
[Footnote 320: Bull _Cum Unoquoque_, January 1, 1586.]
[Footnote 321: Bull _Qugæ Ordini_, 1589.]
[Footnote 322: Bull _Cum Benigno_, 1585.]
[Footnote 323: This edifying mood of the Pope might have been fatal to
the ancient Roman remains if he had enjoyed a lengthy Pontificate. When
the cardinals timidly curbed his iconoclasm, he replied that he would
destroy the uglier of the pagan monuments and restore the remainder.
Among these "uglier" monuments were the Septizonium of Severus, the
surviving part of which he actually demolished, and the tomb of Cæcilia
Metella!]
CHAPTER XVII
BENEDICT XIV.: THE SCHOLAR-POPE
The seventeen Popes who occupied the Vatican between Sixtus V. and
Benedict XIV. do not call for individual notice. With common integrity
of life and general mediocrity of intelligence they guarded and
administered their lessened inheritance. A few fragments of the lost
provinces were regained--Ferrara and Urbino were reunited to the
Papal States, and Protestantism was crushed in southern Germany and
Poland--but the general situation was unchanged. The Papal conception
of European life, the conviction that heresy must and would be only a
temporary diversion of the minds of men, was definitely overthrown,
and the Church of Rome became one of various flourishing branches of
the Christian Church. The interest of the historian passes from the
personalities of the Popes to the movements of thought which herald or
prepare the next great revolution.
In regard to that specific development of European thought which we
call the birth of science we are, perhaps, apt to misread its earlier
stages because we find it in its final stage so destructive of old
traditions. The Popes of the seventeenth century are too much flattered
when they are credited with a distinct perception of the menace of
science and a resolute opposition to it. Properly speaking, they had
no attitude toward "science," but, as the history of science and the
fortune of such men as Giordano Bruno, Galilei, and Vesalius show,
they resented and hampered departures from the stock of traditional
learning.[324] On the other hand, the period we are considering was
marked by the phenomenal material success and the moral degeneration of
the greatest force the Counter-Reformation had produced--the Society of
Jesus. The Jesuits did far more than the Papacy to arrest the advance
of Protestantism and to conquer new lands for the Church, but the
diplomatic principles inherited from their founder and the desperate
exigencies of a stubborn war led them into a pernicious casuistry,
while prosperity led to such relaxation as it had produced in the
old religious bodies. In politics the new age was characterized by
the decay of Spain and "the Empire," and the rise of France, and the
increased power of France led to a revival of the old Gallic defiance,
within orthodox limits, of the Papacy, culminating in the famous
"Declaration of the Gallican Clergy" (1682), and to the powerful lay
movements which gathered round Pascal and the Jansenists or Voltaire
and the philosophers. Benedict XIV. mounted the Papal throne in the
height of these developments, and his attitude of compromise makes him
one of the most singular and interesting Popes of the new era.
Prospero Lorenzo Lambertini was born at Bologna, of good family, on
March 31, 1675. At the age of thirteen he entered the Clementine
College at Rome, and with the advance of years he became a very
industrious student of law--canon and civil--and history. He took
degrees in theology and law, and was incorporated in the Roman system
as Consultor to the Holy Office, Canon of St. Peter's, and Prelate
of the Roman Court. Successive Popes made the indefatigable scholar
Archbishop of Theodosia _in partibus_, Archbishop of Ancona and
Cardinal (1728), and Archbishop of Bologna (1731). Lambertini was a
rare type of prelate. He did not, as so many high-born prelates did,
relieve the tedium of the clerical estate with the hunt, the banquet,
and the mistress. His episcopal duties were discharged with the most
rigorous fidelity, his clergy were sedulously exhorted to cultivate
learning and virtue, and his leisure was devoted to the composition
of erudite treatises on _The Beatification of the Servants of God_,
_The Sacrifice of the Mass_, _The Festivals of Our Lord Jesus Christ_,
and _Canonical Questions_. Yet the Cardinal-Archbishop was no ascetic
in spirit, and there was much gossip about his conversation. He loved
Tasso and Ariosto as much as juridical writings. He liked witty
society, and his good stories circulated beyond the little group of his
scholarly friends. President de Brosses visited him at Bologna in 1739,
the year before he became Pope, and wrote of him:
A good fellow, without any airs, who told us some very good stories
about women (_filles_) or about the Roman court. I took care to commit
some of them to memory and will find them useful. He especially liked
to tell or to hear stories about the Regent and his confidant Cardinal
Dubois. He used to say, "Tell me something about this Cardinal del
Bosco." I ransacked my memory, and told him all the tales I knew. His
conversation is very pleasant: he is a clever man, full of gaiety and
well read. In his speech he makes use of certain expletive particles
which are not cardinalitial. In that and other things he is like
Cardinal Camus; for he is otherwise irreproachable in conduct, very
charitable, and very devoted to his archiepiscopal duties. But the
first and most essential of his duties is to go three times a week to
the Opera.[325]
Lambertini's liberty and joviality of speech did not, in spite of his
strict virtue and most zealous administration, commend him to the more
severe cardinals, and when Clement XII. died, on February 6, 1740,
he was not regarded as a candidate for the Papacy. But the struggle
of French, Spanish, and Austrian partisans continued for six months
without prospect of a settlement, and in the intolerable heat of the
summer the cardinals cast about, as usual, for an outsider. Lambertini
had humorously recommended himself from time to time. He used to say,
President de Brosses reports: "If you want a good fellow (_coglione_--a
particularly gross word) choose me."[326] The Emperor Joseph II., who
did not want an inflexible Pope, supported his candidature, and he was
assuredly the most distinguished of the cardinals to whom the wearied
voters now looked. He was elected on August 17th, and he took the name
of Benedict XIV.
He was now sixty-five years old: a round, full-faced, merry little
man, with piercing small eyes and an obstinate resolution to live at
peace with the world. A few years later,[327] he describes his daily
life to his friend Cardinal Tencin. He rises early and takes a cup of
chocolate and a crust. At midday he has a soup, an entrée, a roast,
and a pear: on "fast" days he reduces himself to a _pot-au-feu_ and a
pear, but it does not agree with him to observe the law of abstinence
from meat, and he advises the cardinals to follow his example. In
the evening he takes only a glass of water with a little cinnamon,
and he retires very late. He works hard all day and feels that he is
justified in seeking relief in sprightly conversation. Indeed, when
one surveys the vast published series of Benedict's Bulls (some of
which are lengthy and severe treatises), rescripts, works, and letters,
one realizes that his industry was phenomenal. When he had to condemn
some volume of the new sceptical literature which was springing up
in Europe, he read it himself three times and reflected long on it.
His interest ranged from England, whose political affairs he followed
closely, to the mountains of Syria and the missions of China. Every
branch of Papal administration had his personal attention. He thought
little of the cardinals, and often pours genial irony on them in his
innumerable letters. Of his two predecessors, Benedict XIII. "had
not the least idea of government," and Clement XII. "passed his life
in conversation," and "it is with the oxen from this stable [the
cardinals promoted by them] that we have to work today."[328] In
finance, politics, administration, liturgy, and all other respects he
had inherited a formidable task, and he discharged it in such wise that
he died at peace with all except his Roman reactionaries. The Catholic
rulers deeply appreciated him. Frederick of Prussia had a genial regard
for him. Horace Walpole celebrated his virtues in Latin verse, and
one of the Pitts treasured a bust of him. Voltaire, through Cardinal
Acquaviva, presented his _Mahomet_ to him in 1746, and the amiable
Pope, quite innocent of the satire on Christianity, wrote to tell
Voltaire how he had successfully defended his Latin verses.[329]
Benedict's immediate predecessor, Clement XII., an elderly
disciplinarian whose strength was not equal to his pretensions, had
left the internal and foreign affairs of the Quirinal--the Popes now
dwelt chiefly in that palace--in a condition of strain and disorder,
nor was Benedict's Secretary of State, Cardinal Valenti, the man
to relieve the Pope of the work of reform. Choiseul, who was then
the French representative at Rome, describes Valenti as very able
but very lazy: a man of great charm, especially to ladies, and easy
morals. Yet the treasury was empty, and the finances were shockingly
disorganized. Although Clement XII. had introduced the lottery to
support his extravagant expenditure, the Papal income in 1739 fell
short of the expenses by 200,000 crowns a year, and the Camera owed
between fifty and sixty million crowns--President de Brosses says
380,000,000 francs--to the _Monti_, or funds out of which the Popes
paid life-incomes. Smuggling was so general, even among ambassadors and
cardinals, that half the Papal revenue was lost. Cardinals Acquaviva
and Albani each granted immunity from excise to four thousand traders:
so Benedict wrote to Tencin in 1743. A third of the population of Rome
consisted of ecclesiastics who lived on the Papal system, and a third
were foreigners of no greater financial value; while the natives could
so easily obtain food at the innumerable monasteries, or by begging,
that there was little incentive to industry.
Benedict XIV. had no financial capacity, but the desperate and ever
worsening condition of the treasury spurred him to work. He restricted
the immunities from excise, cut down the extravagant payment of the
troops, and severely curtailed the number of his servants. In a few
years he had a surplus, which he divided among the impoverished nobles.
He then reduced the taxes, had new factories built, and encouraged the
introduction of new methods into agriculture. His zeal in suppressing
"usury" was not so fortunate, but he restored the Papal finances to
such a degree that he could at length indulge his cultural tastes.
Sandini gives a list of the monuments he restored at Rome--including
the new façade with which he disfigured Sta. Maria Maggiore--and we
know from his letters that he was assiduous in collecting classical
statues and fine books for the Roman galleries and libraries. He
founded four academies at Rome--for the study of Roman history and
antiquities, Christian history and antiquities, the history of the
Councils, and liturgy--and once in each week presided, at the Quirinal,
over a sitting of each academy. To the Roman university (Sapienza) he
added chairs of chemistry, mathematics, and art, and he pressed in
every way the higher education of the clergy. In 1750 he appointed
a woman teacher, Maria Gaetana d'Agnesi, of mathematics at Bologna
University, and wrote her a gracious letter commending the ambition of
her sex.
Jansenists and philosophers were now fiercely exposing the weaknesses
of Papal culture, and Benedict, who freely criticized the errors of
his predecessors, attempted some revision of the mass of legends which
had been accepted by the Church. In 1741 he appointed a commission to
revise the Breviary, but the extensive alterations they proposed to
make in the lives of the saints alarmed the reactionaries. On April
26, 1743, we find Benedict wearily complaining to Tencin of the
difficulty of reform: "There is now all over the world such a disdain
of the Holy See that--I will not say the protest of a bishop, a city,
or a nation--but the opposition of a single monk is enough to thwart
the most salutary and most pious designs."[330] The French clergy had
been compelled in 1680 and 1736 to issue more critical editions of
the Breviary, and Benedict wished to provide one for the universal
Church. But the bigots were too strong for the Pope and the scheme
of reform lies in the dust of the Vatican archives, while the Roman
Breviary still contains legends of the most remarkable character. In
reforming the Martyrology (1748) the Pope was more successful, and
he published a new Ceremonial for Bishops (1752). He also published
an indult permitting any diocese that cared to reduce the number of
Church-festivals. The number of days on which men rested from work
had become a scandal, and many complaints had reached the Holy See.
Benedict's indult was gradually adopted by entire nations.
Of far greater interest is Benedict's attitude toward what we may call
foreign affairs, and in this we discover again the more genial side
of his character. Those who had known the different aspects of the
Pope's personality--the punctilious learning of the ecclesiastic and
the _bonhomie_ of the man--must have wondered how he would confront
the hereditary problems of the Papacy. Benedict at once made it plain
that his policy would be one of deliberate and judicious compromise.
Anxious though he was, especially in view of the Italian ambitions of
Maria Theresa, about his temporal possessions, he placed his spiritual
power and responsibility in the foreground, and on temporal matters he
made more concessions than any Pope of equal wit and will had ever
made. He was, he told Tencin, "the mortal enemy of secrets and useless
mysticism." For disguised Jesuits and intriguing Nuncii he had no
employment. He took court after court, with which his predecessor had
embroiled the Papacy, and came to an agreement which almost invariably
satisfied them; and in the war of the Spanish succession, when Spanish
and Austrian troops in turn violated his territory, he remained
strictly neutral.
The chief problem in France was the conflict of the Jesuits and the
Jansenists, which was complicated by a revival of the Gallican spirit
that put difficulties in the way of Papal interference. The Bull
_Unigenitus_, with which Clement XI. had sought to extinguish the
controversy, had increased the disorder, and the zealots pressed the
Pope to intervene. Parlement would have resented his interference, and
it was not until 1755, when the Assembly of the Clergy failed to find a
solution, that Louis XV. asked the Pope to make a further declaration.
The credit of his moderate Encyclical[331] is not wholly due to him.
The French asked him to refrain from pressing the _Unigenitus_ as a
standard of faith and merely to demand external respect for it. This
agreed with the Pope's moderate disposition, but the Jesuits and
other zealots at Rome were enraged, and Choiseul--without Benedict's
knowledge, of course--made extensive use of bribery to win the College
of Cardinals. Benedict's letters reflect his weariness between the
antagonistic parties and frequently express that he is willing to
respect Gallican susceptibilities to any extent short of a surrender of
the faith. A draft of the Encyclical was submitted to the French court
before it was published. Both the Jesuits and the lawyers attacked it,
but the Parlement was won to the King by an attempt on his life and the
Jesuits soon found all their energy needed to defend their existence.
With Spain the Pope concluded one of the most remarkable Concordats in
Papal history. There had gradually been established a custom by which
the Papacy appointed to all benefices which fell vacant during eight
months of the year, and the bishops and their chapters appointed to
vacant benefices during the remaining third of the year. The court had
the right of appointment only to benefices in Granada and the Indies.
As a natural result, Spanish ecclesiastics crowded to Rome, and it
was estimated that the Dataria derived from them about 250,000 crowns
a year. Spain resented the arrangement, but the clerical population
of Rome clung tenaciously to it. Benedict in 1751 entered into secret
negotiations with Spain, and contrived to keep them secret until 1753,
when he startled and irritated Rome by publishing his famous Concordat.
By this he granted the Spanish King the right to nominate to all except
fifty-two benefices in Spain and America. The cardinals bitterly
complained that they had not been consulted, while the officials
deplored the abandonment of Papal prestige and the cessation of so much
profitable employment. Benedict had, however, made a shrewd bargain
with Ferdinand VI. The King had to pay a capital sum of 1,143,330
crowns, which, at an interest of three per cent., would cover the
yearly loss to the Curia. At a later date the Pope released the Spanish
Infanta from the dignity of cardinal, yet permitted him to retain a
large part of his clerical income.
A similar agreement ended the long friction with Portugal and (in 1740)
gave John V. the right to present to all the episcopal sees and abbeys
in his dominions; and in 1748 the Pope further gratified the King with
the title of _Fidelissimus_. The King of Sardinia received, soon after
Benedict's succession, the title of Vicar of all the Papal fiefs in
his dominions and the right, for an annual payment of 2000 crowns, to
gather their revenues. Naples, in turn, was pacified, after many years
of dangerous friction. There had been stern quarrels about jurisdiction
over the clergy, and by a Concordat of the year 1741 Benedict consented
to the creation of a supreme court, with an equal number of clerical
and lay judges and an ecclesiastical president, for the trial of such
cases. With Venice the Pope was less successful. The decaying Republic
had a standing quarrel with Austria about the patriarchate of Aquileia;
Austria, which possessed part of the territory, would not acknowledge
the authority of the Venetian patriarch. Benedict appointed a Vicar for
the Austrian section, and Venice, ever ready to flout Papal orders,
drove the Nuncio from the city. The Pope thereupon divided the province
into two archbishoprics, but Venice still angrily protested and the
dispute remained unsettled at Benedict's death.
Austria gave the Pope his most anxious hours. The joy of Rome at the
fidelity of southern Germany was in the eighteenth century clouded by
the growth of a spirit akin to Gallicanism: the spirit which would
presently be known as Febronianism. Charles VI. had in 1740 left the
Empire to his elder daughter, Maria Theresa, and Spain had contested
the succession in the hope of winning for itself the provinces of
Lombardy and Tuscany. In the war which followed Benedict took no side,
but the conflicting armies devastated his territory and approached
very near to Rome. His letters to Tencin reflect his distress and
anxiety, no less than his helplessness. When the war was over, he sent
a representative to the conference at Aix-la-Chapelle, where his rights
were endangered by the contest of the two ambitious queens; Elizabeth
of Spain was the last of the Farnese and was disposed to claim for her
son the principality which Paul III. had wantonly conferred on his son
Pier Luigi. The chief question that interested the Papacy was whether
Don Philip should receive the investiture of Parma and Piacenza from
Rome or the Empress, and Benedict had the satisfaction of seeing it
virtually settled in favour of Rome. On Paul III. himself, and other
nepotist Popes, Benedict passes a very severe judgment in his letters.
For his part he severely excluded his relatives from Rome, and when a
young son of his nephew came to study at the Clementine College, he
took care that the boy should receive no particular favour.
It is one of the remarkable features of Benedict's Pontificate that
he won considerable respect even in the Protestant lands. Englishmen,
perhaps, did not know, as we know from the Pope's letters, how deeply
he sympathized with the exiled Stuarts. "James III." lived for some
time at Rome on a pension provided by France, Spain, and the Papacy,
and Benedict had often to relieve the financial embarrassment of the
foolish and extravagant prince. His second son became Cardinal York,
and, in conferring the dignity on him, Benedict declared that he would
be pleased to withdraw it if ever Providence recalled him to the throne
of his fathers. In spite of these amiable sympathies, Benedict was
much appreciated by cultivated Englishmen, and in 1753 he reconstituted
and enlarged the English hierarchy.
With Frederic of Prussia, also, he had friendly relations. He was the
first Pope to recognize the title of "King of Prussia" assumed in 1701
by the Electors of Brandenburg, and in this again he overruled the
opposition of the cardinals. In 1744 Frederic begged the Pope to make
Scatfgoch, a Breslau canon whom the King liked, coadjutor to the Bishop
of Breslau. Scatfgoch talked with scandalous license about religion and
morals; it was said at Rome that he dipped his crucifix into his wine
to give the Saviour the first drink. Benedict, to Frederic's anger,
refused; but three years later, when the bishop died, and the Nuncio
reported the conversion of the canon, the Pope gratified Frederic by
making him bishop. Frederic permitted the erection of a Catholic chapel
at Berlin.
The new Catholic world beyond the seas made more than one claim on the
untiring Pope. Immediately after his election we find him sending a
Vicar Apostolic to settle the troubles of the Maronites of Syria, and
in 1744 he reconciled and regulated the affairs of the Greek Melchites
of Antioch. In the farther East a fierce controversy still raged, both
in China and India, regarding the heathen rites and practices which the
Jesuit missionaries permitted their native converts to retain. Clement
XI., Innocent XIII., and Benedict XIII. had successively employed him,
when he was an official of the Curia, to prepare a verdict on these
"Chinese and Malabar rites," but it was reported that the Jesuits
still defied the orders of the Popes. In his private letters to
Tencin, Benedict sternly condemns the "tergiversations" of the Jesuit
missionaries, but in his Papal pronouncements he is more cautious. His
Bulls _Ex Quo Singulari_,[332] which puts an end to the trouble in
China, and _Omnium Solicitudinum_,[333] which condemns the practices
in Malabar (India), are scholarly and severe treatises. They hardly
mention the Jesuits, but they leave no loophole for those casuistic
missionaries. From the other side of the globe Benedict received
complaints that Christians were still enslaving the American natives,
on the pretext of converting them, and he renewed the prohibition
issued by Paul III. and Urban VIII.
From all quarters of the globe Benedict received heated complaints
about the Jesuits. They permitted the worship of ancestors in China,
and closed their eyes to Hindu charms and amulets in India. They
conducted great commercial enterprises in North and South America,
and struggled bitterly against the bishops in England. France accused
them of intensifying the domestic strife of its Church, and Spain and
Portugal brought grave charges against them. But Benedict XIV. seems
to have dreaded the overweening and doomed Society. Even his private
letters are singularly free from direct allusions to them, and more
than one Jesuit scholar was employed by him on tasks of importance. His
friend Cardinal Passionei, a worldly cardinal, of easy ways, who spent
his days in luxurious ease at Frascati, often urged him to reform the
Society, but it was not until the last year of his life that he took
any step in that direction. Portugal was now approaching its great
struggle with the Jesuits, and Benedict, on April 1, 1758, directed
Cardinal Saldanha to inspect and report upon the condition of the
Jesuit houses and colleges in that country. He died a month later,
unconscious of the great revolution which the Catholic Powers were
preparing to force on the Papacy.
Of the isolated ecclesiastical acts of Benedict it is impossible to
give here even a summary. No Pope since the great Pontiffs of the
early Middle Ages had enriched his Church with so much (from the
Papal point of view) sound legislation: none had had so scientific a
command of ecclesiastical affairs or united with it so indefatigable
an industry. His Bull _Magnæ Nobis Admirationis_[334] prescribes,
in the case of mixed marriages, the rules which are enforced in the
Church today. He forbade monks to practise surgery or dispense drugs;
though Europe would have been more completely indebted to him in this
respect if he had not made an exception in favour of the atrocious drug
known as "theriac" and the foolish compound which went by the name of
"apoplectic balsam." He condemned Freemasonry,[335] though his decree
was not enforced. But one must glance over the thirteen volumes of his
_Bullarium_ and the seventeen volumes of his religious and liturgical
works if one would realize his massive industry and devotion to his
duties.
In the spring of 1758 his robust constitution yielded to the ravages
of gout, labour, and anxiety, and he died on May 3d. He was not,
as some say, "the idol of Rome." The cardinals felt the disdain of
them which he often expresses in his letters, and many of the clergy
regarded him as too severe on them and too pliant to the laity. Neither
was he a genius. Clearness of mind, immense industry, and sober ways
are the sources of his output. His works are not read today even by
ecclesiastics, and it is ludicrous to represent them as his title
to immortality. Yet Benedict XIV. was a great Pope: a wise ruler of
the Church at a time when once more, unconsciously, it approached a
world-crisis. The magnitude of the change which was taking place in
Europe he never perceived, but his policy was wise in the measure
of his perception, and his geniality of temperament, united to so
wholehearted a devotion to his duty, won some respect for the name
of Pope in lands where it had been for two hundred years a thing of
contempt.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 324: Modern research has easily settled that Galilei was
not physically ill-treated, and that there was probably no intention
to carry out the formal threat of torture. But this refutation of the
excesses of the older anti-Papal historians leaves the serious part of
the indictment intact. Galilei was forbidden by the Holy Office in 1616
to advance as a positive discovery his view of the earth's position.
In 1632, to the great indignation of Urban VIII., he disregarded this
prohibition, which he thought a dead letter, and was condemned by the
Inquisition as "vehemently suspected of heresy." The crime against
culture is not materially lessened by the fact that the Inquisition
lodged the astronomer in its most comfortable rooms.]
[Footnote 325: _Lettres familières_ (1858), i., 250-1. The President
was in Rome during the conclave in the following year and repeated that
Lambertini was "licentious in speech but exemplary in conduct" (ii.,
399). On a later page (439) he frankly describes the Pope as "indecent
in speech." There is a passage in one of the Pope's later letters
to Cardinal Tencin which may illustrate his censure. Benedict tells
the Cardinal that he has bought a nude Venus for his collection, and
finds that the Prince and Princess of Württemberg have, with a diamond
ring, scratched their names on a part of the statue which one may not
particularize as plainly as the Pope does (_Correspondance de Benoît
XIV._, ii., 268).]
[Footnote 326: _Lettres familières_, ii., 439.]
[Footnote 327: September 29, 1745.]
[Footnote 328: Letter to Tencin August 1, 1753 (ii., 282).]
[Footnote 329: The correspondence is reproduced in Artaud de Montor's
_Histoire des Souverains Pontifes_ (1849), vii., 79. Benedict was
severely censured by the pious, and he declared to Cardinal Tencin that
he "did not find it clear that Voltaire was a stranger to the faith"
(i., 246). The biography of Benedict, one of the most interesting
of the Popes, is still to be written. F.X. Kraus, in his edition
of Benedict's letters, reproduces fragments of a pretentious Latin
biography by a contemporary, Scarselli, and M. Guarnacci has a sketch
in his _Vitæ Pontificum Romanorum_ (1751, vol. ii., col. 487-94).
These relate only to his earlier years. A. Sandini (_Vitæ Pontificum
Romanorum_, 1754) has only three pages on Benedict, and the anonymous
_Vie du Pape Benoît XIV._ (1783--really written by Cardinal Caraccioli)
is not critical. The biographical sketches in Artaud de Montor and
Ranke are quite inadequate. But the biographer has now a rich material
in Benedict's Bulls (complete _Bullarium_, 13 vols., 1826 and 1827),
works (chief edition, 17 vols., 1839-1846, and three further works
edited by Heiner in 1904), and letters. Of the latter the best editions
are those of F.X. Kraus (_Briefe Benedicts XIV. an den Canonicus Pier
Francesco Peggi_, 1884), Morani ("Lettere di Benedetto XIV. all'
arcidiacono Innocenzo Storani" in the _Archivio Storico per le Marche
e per l'Umbria_, 1885), Fresco ("Lettere inedite di Benedetto XIV. al
Cardinale Angelo Maria Querini" in the _Nuovo Archivio Veneto_, 1909,
tomo xviii., pp. 5-93, and xix., pp. 159-215), "Lettere inedite di
Benedetto XIV. al Cardinale F. Tamburini" in the _Archivio della R.
Società Romana di Storia Patria_, vol. xxxiv. (1911), pp. 35-73, and E.
de Heeckeren (_Correspondance de Benoît XIV._, 2 vols., 1912).]
[Footnote 330: I., 49.]
[Footnote 331: _Ex omnibus Christiani orbis_, Oct. 16, 1756. It
prescribes silence on the disputed issues and leaves it to confessors
to determine whether their penitents are so wilfully rebellious against
the Bull _Unigenitus_ as to be excluded from the sacraments.]
[Footnote 332: July 1, 1742.]
[Footnote 333: September 12, 1744.]
[Footnote 334: June 29, 1748.]
[Footnote 335: March 18, 1751.]
CHAPTER XVIII
PIUS VII. AND THE REVOLUTION
Benedict XIV. had maintained Papal power and prestige in his Catholic
world by prudent concessions to a European spirit which he recognized
as having definitely emerged from its mediæval phase. His successors
for many decades lacked his penetration; though one may wonder if,
without sacrificing essential principles of the Papal scheme, they
could have advanced farther along the path of concession to a more and
more exacting age. However that may be, they generally clung to the
autocratic principles of the Papacy, and as a consequence they ceased
to be the leaders of their age and became little more than corks tossed
on heaving waters. Not until Leo XIII. do we find a Pope with a human
quality of statesmanship. In the intervening Pontificates the barque
of Peter drifted on the wild and swollen waters, pathetically bearing
still a flag which bore the legend of ruler of the waves.
Clement XIII. (1758-1769) and Clement XIV. (1769-1774) were
occupied with the problem of the Jesuits. One by one the Catholic
Powers--Portugal, France, Naples, and Spain--swept the Jesuits from
their territory, with a flood of obloquy, and then made a collective
demand on the Pope for the suppression of the Society. Clement XIII.
had made a futile effort to assert the old dictatorial power; and
Catholic nations had retorted by seizing part of the diminished Papal
States. France had occupied Avignon and Vennaissin, and Naples had
taken Benevento and Pontecorvo. The bewildered Pope found peace in
the grave, and the Powers ensured the election of a man who did not
regard the suppression of the Society as an impossibility. For four
years Ganganelli, Clement XIV., resisted or restrained the pressure of
the Catholic Powers, but in 1773 the famous Bull _Dominus ac Redemptor
Noster_ disbanded the most effective force of the Counter-Reformation,
plainly endorsing the charge against it of corruption.[336]
Pius VI. (1775-1798) came vaguely to realize that there was some deep
malady in the world which, in bewildering impotence, he contemplated.
The hostility to the Jesuits had been a symptom; nor was the symptom
more intelligible to so unskilful a physician when the Protestant
rulers of Russia and Prussia protected the Jesuits, while the Catholic
Powers sternly restrained his wish to restore the Society. Vaguely,
also, he realized that there was a deeper infidelity in the world; that
the "philosophers" of France and Spain and Italy and the "illumined
ones" of Germany were a new thing under the sun; and that the
traditions of the Papacy did not help in dealing with such "Catholic"
statesmen as Pombal, Aranda, Tanucci, and Choiseul. He had not even
the traditional remedy of finding support in the "Roman Empire." Under
Joseph II. and Kaunitz, Austria had developed a rebellious spirit
which rivalled the most defiant phases of Gallicanism.[337]
Pius visited Vienna, and trusted that his handsome and engaging
presence would reconcile the Emperor to his large pretensions, but
the visit was fruitless and the vanity of the Pope was bruised. At
least the mass of the people were faithful, Pius thought. Then there
came the terrible disillusion of the French Revolution, and resounding
echoes of its fiery language in Italy and Spain. Pius made his last
blunder--though the most natural course for him to take--by allying
himself with Austria and England against the Revolution, and the shadow
of Napoleon fell over Italy. Napoleon shattered the Austrian forces
and compelled the Pope to sacrifice Avignon and Venaissin, to lose the
three Legations (Bologna, Ferrara, and Romagna), and to pay out of his
scanty income 30,000,000 lire. In the following year, 1798, the French
inspired a rebellion at Rome. The Romans set up once more feeble images
of their ancient "Consuls" and "Ædiles," and the aged Pope was dragged
from point to point by the French dragoons until he expired at Valence
on August 29, 1798. General Bonaparte had said, contemptuously, that
the Papacy was breaking up. There were those who asked if Pius VI. was
the last Pope.
But a new act of the strange European drama was opening. Bonaparte was
in Egypt, brooding over iridescent dreams of empire, and the treaty of
Campo Formio which he had concluded before leaving had given Venice
(as well as Istria and Dalmatia) to Austria. To Venice, accordingly,
forty-six of the scattered and impoverished cardinals made their way,
for the purpose of electing a new Pope, and the Conclave was lodged
in the abbey of San Giorgio on November 30th. The history of the
Papal Conclaves has inspired a romantic and caustic narrative,[338]
and the account of the Conclave of 1798-1799 is not one of the least
interesting. Austria, which had occupied the northern Papal provinces,
and Naples, which had succeeded the French in the south and was now
"guarding" Rome, did not desire the election of a Pope who would claim
his full temporal dominion. Against them was the solid nucleus of
conservative and rigid cardinals, and on the fringe of the struggle
were the unattached cardinals, some of whom had a lively concern about
this General Bonaparte who had just returned from Egypt. The statesman
of the College was Cardinal Consalvi, a very able and accomplished
son of a noble Pisan family. Consalvi, as a good noble and churchman,
loathed the Revolution, but, when the struggle of voters had lasted
three or four months and the two chief parties had reached a deadlock,
he listened to the suggestion of Cardinal Maury that the mild "Jacobin"
Cardinal Chiaramonti would be the best man to elect. Bonaparte had
spoken well of Chiaramonti, and Austria would not resent the election
of a lowly-minded Benedictine monk. Whether or no Consalvi suspected
that Maury was (at least in part) working for a personal reward, he
took up the intrigue, and on March 24th Chiaramonti became Pius VII.
They had put an aged and timid monk at the helm on such a sea.
Barnaba Luigi Chiaramonti was born at Cesena, of a small-noble family,
on August 14, 1742. He entered the Benedictine Order at the age of
sixteen and distinguished himself in his studies. As he was distantly
related to Pius VI., who was a flagrant nepotist, he easily earned
promotion at Rome. He taught theology and was titular abbot of San
Callisto. In time he became Bishop of Tivoli, then Bishop of Imola and
Cardinal. He was administering his diocese with due zeal, and more than
ordinary gentleness, when the storm of the French invasion broke upon
Italy. He was not a politician. He advised his people to submit to the
Cisalpine Republic set up by the French, and mediated for them with
General Augereau when some of them rebelled. But, when the Austrians
came in turn, he advised the people to submit to their "liberators,"
and, when the French returned, the magistrates of Imola charged him
with treachery and he had to plead on his own behalf. However, his
colleagues affected to regard him as a Jacobin, and his easy attitude
toward the French and the temporal power won him the tiara. He was
crowned in San Giorgio on March 21st.
Austria had refused the use of San Marco for the ceremony, because
it was nervously anxious to discourage ideas of royalty in the new
Pope, and its representative in the Sacred College, Cardinal Hrzan,
urged Pius to go from Venice to Vienna, and to make Cardinal Flangini
(a Venetian) his Secretary of State. Pius quietly refused, and chose
Consalvi. In quick succession the Austrian ambassador offered him the
territory they had taken from Lombardy, without the Legations, and then
two out of the three Legations (they keeping Romagna), but Consalvi
prompted him to refuse, and he set out for Rome. The Austrians would
not suffer him to pass through the Papal territory they held, and he
had to proceed by boat to Pesaro. But the news that the Neapolitans had
retired from Rome, and that the Austrians (chastened by Napoleon) now
offered him the three Legations they were unable to keep, cheered the
Pontiff on his journey and he entered Rome in triumph.[339]
Consalvi, whose firm hand guides that of the Pope during most of his
Pontificate, began at once to put in order the chaotic affairs of the
Papacy. The treasury was empty, though the four resplendent tiaras
had been stripped of their jewels, the taxes were insupportable, and
the coinage was shamefully debased. Consalvi removed some of the
taxes--though he was forced to restore them at a later date--and, at
a cost of 1,500,000 scudi, called in the adulterated coin. He turned
with vigour to the affairs of Germany, where the princes who were
dispossessed of their territory on the left bank of the Rhine by
the Treaty of Lunéville[340] proposed to recoup themselves from the
ecclesiastical estates on the right bank.[341] But every other interest
was soon overshadowed by the relations of Napoleon to Rome, and the
story of Pius VII. is almost entirely the story of those singular and
tragic relations.
Napoleon had re-entered Italy, and won Marengo, before Pius reached
Rome. But experience in the East and consideration of his growing
ambition had made Voltaireanism seem to him impolitic, and he now sent
a representative to treat with the new Pope as respectfully as if he
commanded 200,000 men. They would co-operate in restoring religion
in France. Pius timidly expressed some concern at the Mohammedan
sentiments Bonaparte had so recently uttered in Egypt, but he and the
cardinals assented to the proposal, and Archbishop Spina was sent to
Paris in November (1800). In view of Napoleon's demands--that the old
hierarchy of 158 bishops should be reduced to sixty, that a certain
proportion of the Republican (constitutional) bishops should be
elected together with a proportion of the emigrant royalists, that no
alienated church-property should be restored, and that Christianity
should not be established as "the religion of France"--Spina found that
his powers were inadequate, and Napoleon sent Cacault to Rome with
the draft of a Concordat (March, 1501). Pius and his cardinals shrank
from so formidable a sacrifice, and would negotiate, in time-honoured
Roman fashion. But ancient customs did not impress Bonaparte. Cacault
reported in May that the Concordat was to be signed in five days,
whether it killed the bewildered Pope or no (as Consalvi said it
would), or France would set up its Church without his aid. As a
compromise, Cacault suggested that Consalvi should accompany him to
Paris, and the Quirinal had faith in its great diplomatist. Even
Consalvi, however, was nervous and almost powerless before the studied
violence of Napoleon, and his diplomatic movements were constantly met
with a brusque declaration that Napoleon would detach France, if not
Catholic Europe, from the Papacy if the Concordat were not quickly
signed.[342]
The attitude of Napoleon was not merely despotic. Although France was
still overwhelmingly Catholic, as writers on the revolutionary excesses
often forget, an important minority, including most of Napoleon's
higher officers, were bitterly anti-clerical and opposed any attempt
to restore the Church. Napoleon, who felt that the religious sentiment
of the majority must be dissociated from the emigrants and bound up
once more with a national Church, would have preferred to dispense with
Rome and proceed on extreme Gallican principles. But Catholic sentiment
would not acquiesce in so violent a procedure, and Napoleon realized
the vast gain it would be to him to win the cosmopolitan influence of
the Pope. This feeble and timid monk, he thought, needed intimidation,
and of that art Napoleon was a master. After a final twenty-four hours'
sitting on July 13th-14th, the draft was passed by Consalvi. After a
further struggle, and some further modification, it satisfied both
parties, and Consalvi sent it, with some satisfaction, to Rome for the
Pope's signature. The new bishops were to be nominated by Napoleon
and instituted by the Pope, and the Catholic faith was to be declared
"the religion of the majority." Freethinkers resented the whole
negotiation: Gallicans deplored that the power of the clergy had been
divided between the Pope and the Consul: Royalists abroad protested
bitterly against the required resignation of the old bishops. Pius felt
that this miraculous restoration of the Church was worth the price. He
signed the Concordat and blessed the restorer of the faith.
But the Pope and Consalvi obtained a further insight into Napoleon's
character when the Concordat was made public on Easter Sunday (1802).
With it were associated, as if they were part of the agreement,
certain "Organic Articles" of the most Gallican description. No Bull
or other document from Rome could be published in France, no Nuncio
or Legate exercise his functions, and no Council be held, without
the authorization of the secular authorities. All seminary-teachers
were to subscribe to the famous principles of 1682, and in case the
higher clergy violated those or the laws of the Republic the Council
of State might sit in judgment on them. Pius made a futile protest,
when he read the seventy-six lamentable articles, but Napoleon soon
had the Pope smiling over a gift of two frigates to the Papal navy;
and Pius laicised Talleyrand and raised five French bishops, including
Napoleon's half-uncle Fesch, to the cardinalate. A similar Concordat
was forced by Napoleon on the Cisalpine Republic in 1803, and Naples
was compelled to return Benevento and Pontecorvo. The first phase ended
in smiles.
Cardinal Caprara was sent as legate to Paris, and his experiences
moderated the Pope's satisfaction. He was quite unable to resist the
election of the constitutional bishops (the clergy who had adhered
to the Republican Constitution, which Rome severely and naturally
condemned) and he could not wring from them a formal acknowledgment of
their errors. But these matters were soon thrust out of mind by fresh
events in France. On May 18, 1804, Napoleon was elected Emperor, and
he invited Pius to come to Paris to crown him. There was a natural
hesitation at Rome to flout the Bourbons and their allies by such a
recognition of Napoleon, but the long delay was not in substance due
to that political scruple; nor was it in any serious degree due, as
some writers say, to the recent execution of the Duc d'Enghien, which
appears little in Papal documents. Consalvi persuaded the Pope to
bargain with Napoleon: to stipulate for the abolition of the Organic
Articles, the punishment of the constitutional clergy, and the return
of the three Legations. As before, the diplomacy of Consalvi was
boisterously swept aside by Napoleon, and on November 2d the aged
Pope set out for Paris. Not a single definite promise had been made,
and it seems, from later language of the Pope, that either he or
Consalvi regarded the journey with grave distrust. Pius left behind
him a document authorizing the cardinals to choose a successor, in
case Napoleon violently detained him in France. We may ascribe this
foresight to Consalvi, as throughout these earlier years Pius appears
to be merely the agent of the wishes of the cardinals.
Napoleon must have noted with satisfaction the ease with which his
constant trickery escaped the Pope's eye. On November 25th he, in
hunting dress, with studied casualness, met the Pope on the open
road at Fontainebleau, arranged that he should himself sit on the
right in their joint carriage, and drove him into Paris by night.
Every detail had been carefully planned with a view to the avoidance
of paying unnecessary honour to the Pope. Pius noticed nothing, and
wrote enthusiastically to Italy of Napoleon's goodness and zeal for
religion; and indeed the enthusiasm of the faithful Catholics of Paris,
when they found a venerable Pope blessing them from the balconies of
the Tuileries, might well seem to him to indicate a triumph after
the dark decade that had passed. Disillusion came slowly. Josephine,
who now knew that she was threatened with divorce, confided to the
Pope that there had been no church-celebration of her marriage with
Napoleon, and Pius refused to crown them until it took place. Napoleon
thundered, but the Pope had a clear principle and the difficulty was
met by trickery. Cardinal Fesch was permitted by the Pope to marry them
without witnesses, and Napoleon pointed out to friends that he was
taking part in the ceremony without internal consent. On the following
day, December 2d, the coronation took place at Notre Dame, and Napoleon
at one stroke annihilated the prestige of the Pope by crowning himself
and Josephine with his own hands.
Another wave of disdain of the Pope passed through foreign lands: "A
puppet of no importance," said even Joseph de Maistre. Pius remained
gentle and patient. He had still to win the reward of his sacrifices:
to induce the Emperor to restore the Papal States, to modify the
Organic Articles, to abolish the law of divorce, enforce the observance
of Sunday, and reintroduce the monastic orders. The cardinals had drawn
up a pretty program. Napoleon suavely refused every proposition, and
sent one of his officers to suggest that Pius would do well to settle
at Avignon, and have a palace at Paris. Pius, now thoroughly alarmed,
refused emphatically to stay in France, and disclosed that he had
arranged to give him a successor if he were detained. And Pius returned
to give the cardinals a roseate account of the resurrection of religion
in France and the goodness of the Emperor. When he refused, shortly
afterwards, to crown Napoleon King of Italy at Milan, there were those
who admired his firmness. It is more likely that he acted on the advice
of the disappointed cardinals.
Up to this point Pius VII. had given no indication of personality.
One must, of course, appreciate that the restoration of the Church in
France would seem to him an achievement worth large sacrifices, yet
his childlike joy in Napoleon's insincere caresses, his utter failure
to detect the true aims and the trickery of the Emperor, and the
entire lack of plan or efficacy in his protests, must have convinced
Napoleon, as they convinced hostile Royalists, that he was a mere
puppet. He cannot possibly have had the measure of ability with which
Cardinal Wiseman would endow him. The same conclusion is forced on us
by a consideration of the second part of his relations with Napoleon.
Isolated from his abler cardinals, he, like a child, bemoans his
inability to form his judgment, and stumbles from error to error. But
ten years of defeat have taught him that he is dealing with an enemy
of religion, and he reveals a certain greatness of character in his
resistance.
In the spring of 1805 the Emperor asked the Pope to dissolve, or
declare null, the marriage which his brother Jerome had contracted
in America with a Miss Paterson, a Protestant. Pius was eager to do
so, if ecclesiastical principles yielded the slightest ground for
such an act, but, after a long examination, he was obliged to refuse.
Napoleon began to speak of him as a fool. The summer brought war with
Austria once more, and in October the French troops marched through the
Papal States on their way to Naples, and occupied Ancona. When Pius
protested (November 13, 1805), the Emperor scornfully replied--after
an interval of two months--that if its Papal owners were not able or
willing to fortify Ancona, he must occupy it: that the Pope and the
cardinals prostituted religion by their friendly relations with English
and Russian enemies of France: and that he would respect the Pope's
spiritual sovereignty, and expected from him respect for the Emperor's
political sovereignty.[343] On February 13, (1806) Napoleon wrote more
explicitly. The Pope must close his harbours against the English, expel
from Rome all representatives of the enemies of France, get rid of
his bad counsellors (Consalvi), and remember that Napoleon is Emperor
of Rome.[344] Pius, after consulting the cardinals, replied that the
"Roman Emperor" was at Vienna, and that the Papacy would not be drawn
into a war between France and England. To the French representative
in Rome the Pope used a very firm language; he would die rather than
yield on what he conceived as a matter of principle. When, some time
afterwards, Napoleon annexed Naples, and the Papacy protested that it
was a Papal fief, Napoleon rightly gave Consalvi the credit for the
opposition and forced him to resign. He had in 1802 restored Benevento
and Pontecorvo to Rome: he now gave the former to Talleyrand and the
latter to Bernadotte.
It must seem an idle practice to seek apologies for Napoleon's
conduct, but we do well to conceive that each man was justified in his
procedure. Napoleon was wrong only in his pretexts and his methods.
He was no orthodox Catholic, and had no illusions about the sacred
origin of the temporal power. If the Pope chose to be a king, he
submitted to the laws of kings. The Papacy undoubtedly thwarted the
work of the Emperor in Italy and aided his enemies. Cardinal Pacca says
in his Memoirs that Pius wrote him that he "risked everything for the
English."[345] Common opposition to Napoleon brought about a remarkable
approach of Rome and England, and the Quirinal had hopes of advantage
for the Church in England. The Papal ports were of great service to the
English fleet, and therefore of great disservice to the French.
Pius VII. seems never to have realized the elementary fact that
Napoleon was not a Christian. He relied too long on the orthodox
fiction that, because the Pope was the successor of Peter in spiritual
matters, any _temporal_ power taken from him was taken from "The
Blessed Peter." Napoleon did not share that illusion, and it is
singular that he waited so long before consolidating his Italian
kingdom by absorbing the Papal States. The year 1807, when Napoleon
was busy with Prussia, passed in recriminations. Pius would, he said,
show them that the substitution of Cardinal Casoni as his Secretary
of State for Consalvi made no difference. He seemed to be finding his
personality, but there were fiery cardinals like Pacca still with him.
In January, 1808, Napoleon ordered General Miollis to occupy Rome, and
presently he expelled from Rome all cardinals who were not subjects
of the Papal States. Pius, during the night, had a protesting poster
fixed on the walls. On April 2d Napoleon annexed Urbino, Ancona,
Macerata, and Camerino: on the foolish pretext (among others) that
Charlemagne had bestowed those provinces on the Papacy for the good
of Catholicism, not for the profit of its enemies. Pius sent a long
and dignified protest to all bishops in his dominions and broke off
diplomatic relations with France. Gabrielli had succeeded Casoni in
counselling Pius, and the French now made the singular mistake of
arresting Gabrielli and substituting Pacca--a fiery and inflexible
opponent of Napoleon. In August Pacca came into violent collision with
the French and they went to arrest him. He summoned the Pope, and Pius
personally conducted him to the protection of the Quirinal. In the
solitude of the Quirinal they prepared for the last step and drafted
an excommunication of Napoleon.[346] At length on June 10, 1809, they
received Napoleon's declaration that the Papal States were incorporated
in his Empire, and the Bull of excommunication (_Quum Memoranda_) was
issued. It did not name Napoleon, and it was at once suppressed by
the French, but General Miollis considered that a conditional order
for the arrest of the Pope, which Napoleon had sent, now came into
force. At three in the morning of July 6th the troops broke into the
Quirinal. When General Radet and his officers reached the Audience
Chamber, they found the Pope sitting gravely at a table, with a group
of cardinals on either side. For several minutes the two groups gazed
on each other in tense silence, and at length Radet announced that
the Pope must abdicate or go into exile. Taking only his breviary and
crucifix, the Pope entered the carriage at four o'clock, and he and
Pacca were swiftly driven through the silent streets, and on the long
road to Savona. They found that they had between them only the sum of
twenty-two cents, and they laughed.
Pius reached Savona on August 16th (1809), and was lodged in the
episcopal palace. He refused the 50,000 francs a year and the carriages
offered by Napoleon. He refused to walk in Savona, and spent the day
in a little room overlooking the walls, or walking in the scanty
garden of the house. He had no secretary and his aged hands trembled,
but pious Catholics conspired to defeat his guardians (or corrupt his
guardians) and his letters and directions went out stealthily over
Europe. His cardinals were removed to Paris, and when Napoleon divorced
Josephine and married Marie Louise (April 1, 1810), only thirteen
out of the twenty-seven cardinals refused to attend the ceremony.
Pius still declined to enter into Napoleon's plans. Metternich sent
an Austrian representative to argue with him, but the Pope would not
yield his temporal power, and he demanded his cardinals. Cardinals
Spina and Caselli, of the moderate party, were sent to persuade him,
but the mission was fruitless. Napoleon, who was sorely harassed by
the Pope's refusal to institute the new bishops, tried to act without
him, and made Maury Archbishop of Paris. Pius sent a secret letter to
the Vicar Capitular of Paris, declaring that the appointment was null,
and Napoleon angrily ordered a search of his rooms and the removal of
books, ink, paper, and personal attendants.
At last, in June, 1811, the strategy of Napoleon succeeded. The
Archbishop of Tours and three other bishops presented themselves at
Savona with the terrible news that Napoleon had summoned a General
Council at Paris and expected the bishops to remedy the desperate
condition of the French Church--there were twenty-seven bishops
awaiting institution--independently of the Pope. Pius still refused
to submit, but day after day the prelates and the Count de Chabrol
harrowed him with descriptions of the appalling results of his
obstinacy, and on the tenth day they hastened to Paris with the news
that Pius had consented on the main point: he would institute the
bishops within six months, or, if he failed to do so, the Archbishop
would have power to institute them.
What really happened at Savona is the only serious controversy in
the life of Pius VII., and this controversy is based entirely on the
reluctance of Catholic writers to admit that the Pope erred. The usual
theory, based on the work of D'Haussonville,[347] is that Pius fell
into so grave a condition, mentally and physically, that he can hardly
be regarded as responsible. Recent and authoritative Catholic writers
have given a different defence. H. Welschinger[348] seems to suggest
that Pius was drugged by his medical attendant, but he goes on to make
this fantastic suggestion superfluous by claiming that Pius did not
consent at all, either orally or in writing. Father Rinieri, on the
other hand, scorns the theory of temporary insanity, holds that the
Pope deliberately assented, and claims that the consent was perfectly
justified because it was conditional; the Pope agreed _if_, as the
bishops said, his concession would lead to peace and his restoration
to liberty. These theories destroy each other, and are severally
inadmissible. Welschinger, to exonerate the Pope from weakness, assumes
that the Archbishop of Tours lied; for that prelate wrote at once to
Paris that they had "drawn up a note in His Holiness's room, and he had
accepted it," and on his duplicate of the note he wrote: "This note,
drawn up in His Holiness's room, and in a sense under his directions,
was approved and agreed to."[349] Indeed, when Welschinger himself
quotes the Pope saying, in his fit of repentance, "Luckily I _signed_
nothing," we gather that Pius _orally_ assented. Rinieri, on the other
hand, is wrong in making the Pope's assent strictly conditional; the
last clause of the note merely states that the Pope is assured that
good results will follow. And both writers are at fault when they lay
stress on the fact that the note was a mere draft of an agreement.
Unless the four bishops lied, Pius VII., under great importunity and
predictions of disaster, and in a very poor state of health, consented
to a principle which was utterly inconsistent with Papal teaching.
Later events put this beyond question, and make all these speculations
ridiculous. It is unquestioned that when, on the following morning,
Pius asked for the bishops and learned that they had gone, he fell
into a fit of remorse and despair which brought him near to the brink
of madness. It is equally unquestioned that Napoleon's council drew up
a decree in the sense of the famous Savona note and that on September
20th Pius signed it. Napoleon had been dissatisfied with the Pope's
_oral_ consent and his retractation (which the Emperor concealed), and
had tried to bully the council into a declaration independently of the
Papacy. When he failed, he assured them of the Pope's consent and they
passed the decree. Eight bishops and five cardinals took it to Savona,
and the Pope subscribed to it. The only plausible defence of Pius is
that he _granted_ or delegated the power to the archbishops, instead
of merely declaring that the archbishops possessed it. But the Pope's
acute remorse shows that he had not deliberately meant this.
Napoleon, however, saw that his scheme had failed in this respect, and
he kept the Pope at Savona while he set out on the Russian campaign.
After a time the Emperor, alleging that British ships hovered about
Savona, ordered the removal of the Pope to Fontainebleau, and he was
transferred with such secrecy and discomfort that he almost died in
crossing Mont Cenis. At Fontainebleau he maintained his quiet, ascetic
life: even afforded the spectacle of a Pope mending his own shirts.
The thirteen "black" cardinals--the men who opposed Napoleon and were
stripped of their red robes and sent into exile--could not approach
him, and he paid little attention to Napoleon's courtiers. In December
(1812) Napoleon was back from his terrible failure, but he still sought
to bluff the aged Pope. In a genial New-Year letter he proposed that
Pius should settle at Paris and have two million francs a year: that he
would in future permit the Catholic rulers to nominate two thirds of
the cardinals: and that the thirteen black cardinals should be censured
by the Pope and gracefully pardoned by the Emperor. Pius hesitated;
and on the evening of January 18th, when Napoleon suddenly burst into
his room and embraced him, the old tears of childlike joy stood in his
eyes once more. Napoleon remained and put before him a new Concordat,
sacrificing the demands he had made in his letter, but demanding the
abdication of the temporal power and six months' limit for the Papal
institution of bishops. Harrowing pictures of the Pope's condition and
the pressure put on him by Napoleonic prelates are drawn by pious pens.
But the fact is not disputed that on January 25th the "martyr-Pope"
signed the Concordat and sacrificed the temporal power.
When Pacca and Consalvi and the black cardinals, who were now set at
liberty, arrived at Fontainebleau, they shuddered at his surrender,
but they could not upbraid the pale, worn, distracted Pontiff. He
acknowledged his "sin," as he called it, and asked their advice. By
one vote--fourteen against thirteen--the stalwarts decided that he
must retract and defy Napoleon, and a remarkable week followed. They
drafted a new Concordat, and the Pope wrote a few lines each day, which
were taken away in Pacca's pocket to the rooms of Cardinal Pignatelli,
who lived outside. The Emperor's spies were defeated, and he had a
last burst of rage when the new Concordat was put before him. But the
Allies were closing round the doomed adventurer. As they approached, he
offered Pius half the Papal States, and made other futile proposals.
In January, 1814, Pius was conveyed to Savona: on March 17th he was
informed that he was free. Napoleon had fallen.
Consalvi was dispatched to join in the counsels of the Allies, and
Pacca, who took his place, set himself joyously to obliterate every
trace of the Revolution and Napoleon. Monasteries were re-opened,
schools and administrative offices restored to the clergy, the
Inquisition re-established, the Jews thrust back into the Ghetto: even
these new French practices of lighting streets at night and vaccinating
people were abolished. Above all things the Society of Jesus must be
restored. Pius had in 1801 recognised the Society in Russia[350] and
in 1804 he granted it canonical existence in the two Sicilies. The
appalling experience of the last twenty-five years had now swept the
last trace of liberalism out of the minds of Catholic monarchs, and
on August 17, 1814, the Bull _Sollicitudo Omnium_ restored the Society
throughout the world; though Portugal rejected it and France dared not
carry it out. A few months later Rome trembled anew, when it heard
that Napoleon had left Elba and Murat marched across the Papal States
to support him. Pius fled from Rome, rejecting all the overtures of
Napoleon and Murat, but the Hundred Days were soon over and reaction
reigned supreme. Pius never lost his quaint appreciation of Napoleon.
Mme. Letitia, the brothers Lucien and Louis, and Fesch lived in honour
at Rome, and, when the mother complained that the English were killing
her son at St. Helena, Pius earnestly begged Consalvi to intercede
for him. At Napoleon's death in 1821 he directed Fesch to conduct a
memorial service.
Meantime Consalvi had won back the Papal States (except Avignon and
Venaissin and a strip of Ferrara) at the Vienna Congress, and had
returned to moderate the excesses of the reactionary Pacca. Consalvi
had no liberal sentiments, but he had intelligence. At least half of
the educated Italians were Freethinkers, and the secret society of
the _Carbonari_ spread over the country, ferociously combatted by the
orthodox _Sanfedisti_. Italy entered on what the wits called the long
struggle of the "cats" and the "dogs": a rife period for brigands.
Consalvi, in spite of Pacca and the _Zelanti_, compromised. He retained
many of the Napoleonic reforms, though, when the Spanish revolution of
1820 had its revolutionary echoes all over Italy, he drew nearer to the
Holy Alliance for the bloody extirpation of liberalism. Rome prospered
once more, and artists and princes flocked to it, but Pius VII. must
have felt in his last years that the soil of Europe still heaved and
shuddered.
The relations of the Quirinal[351] with other countries were restored
in some measure, in face of stern opposition. A new Concordat with
France was signed in 1817, but the Legislative Assembly refused to
pass it and it did not come into force before the death of Pius.
Spain set up a régime of truculent orthodoxy under the sanguinary
rule of Ferdinand, and the Revolution of 1820 was crushed for him
by the French. Austria made no new Concordat and retained much of
the Febronian temper. Prussia signed a favourable Concordat in 1821.
Bavaria came to an agreement in 1817, but the liberals defeated it;
and Naples and Sardinia were ruled in the spirit of the Holy Alliance.
William I. sought a Concordat for the Netherlands, though without
result: England endeavoured to bring about an agreement in regard to
the Irish bishops, which was defeated by the Irish: and the dioceses of
Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Charleston, Richmond, and Cincinnati
were set up in America.
I do not enter into closer detail, as we recognize in all this work
the hand of Consalvi rather than of Pius. The aged Pope continued to
rejoice over every symptom, or apparent symptom, of religious recovery,
and to miscalculate his age. Even the revolution of 1820 failed to
shake orthodox security and led only to a more truculent persecution
of the new spirit. Pius had now passed his eightieth year and could
not be expected to see what neither Metternich nor Consalvi could see.
In the summer of 1823 he fell into his last illness. As he sank, men
noticed that he was murmuring "Savona, Fontainebleau," but he died
praying quietly on August 17th. It was a strange fate that put Barnaba
Luigi Chiaramonti on a throne in such an age. Whatever church-lore he
may have had, he confronted the problems of his age with dim and feeble
intelligence, and he was at times, when there was no Pacca or Consalvi
to guide him, induced to make concessions which are not consistent with
the fond title of "martyr-Pope." He was a good Bishop of Imola.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 336: It is not true that Clement abstained from passing
judgment on the Society; nor, on the other hand, need we regard
seriously the statement that he was poisoned by the ex-Jesuits. See the
author's _Candid History of the Jesuits_, pp. 355 and 368.]
[Footnote 337: In Austria the movement was called Febronianism, as
it had begun with a work (_De Statu Ecclesiæ_) published in 1763 by
Johann von Hontheim under the pseudonym of "Febronius." Hontheim
had learned Gallican sentiments at Louvain. Joseph II. had wisely
and firmly adopted the chief principles of the school: religious
toleration, restriction of the interference of the Popes, and control
of ecclesiastical property.]
[Footnote 338: Petrucelli della Gattina's _Histoire diplomatique des
Conclaves_, 4 vols., 1864-6.]
[Footnote 339: The chief source of our knowledge of the earlier years
of Pius is the sketch of his life by Artaud de Montor. Cardinal Wiseman
(another eulogist) covers the ground in the early chapters of his
_Recollections of the Last Four Popes_ (1858). Dr. E.L.T. Henke's
_Papst Pius VII._ (1860) is an excellent impartial study, while D.
Bertolotti's _Vita di Papa Pio VII._ (1881) is less scholarly, and Mary
Allies' _Pius the Seventh_ is rather a tract than an historical study.
The Pope's relations with Napoleon (after the coronation) are minutely,
though far from impartially, studied in H. Welschinger's _Le Pape et
l'Empereur_ (1905) and Father Ilario Rinieri's _Napoleone e Pio VII._
(2 vols., 1906): both make some use of unpublished documents. See also
F. Rinieri's _Il Concordato tra Pio VII. e il Primo Console_ (1902).
The Pope's Bulls are in the _Bullarii Romani Continuatio_ (ed. Barberi,
vols. xi.-xv). Contemporary documents abound, and one need mention only
the Memoirs of Consalvi, Pacca, and Talleyrand, and the _Correspondance
de Napoleon I._ Special studies will be quoted later. Dr. F. Nielsen's
_History of the Papacy in the Nineteenth Century_ (2 vols., 1906) is
the best recent study of the period of Pius VII. to Pius IX.; it is
scholarly and impartial.]
[Footnote 340: February 9, 1801.]
[Footnote 341: This Pius entirely failed to prevent. See Father Leo
Koenig's _Pius VII.: Die Sakularisation und das Reichskonkordat_
(1904).]
[Footnote 342: Consalvi's Memoirs are naturally prejudiced, and not
reliable. Theiner's _Histoire des deux Concordats_ (1869) and Séché's
_Les Origines du Concordat_ (1894) are carefully documented.]
[Footnote 343: _Correspondance de Napoleon I._, xi., 642.]
[Footnote 344: _Ibid._, xii., 477.]
[Footnote 345: _Memorie_, i., 68.]
[Footnote 346: Pacca relates that the English sent a friar to say that
they had a frigate ready to take away the Pope and his secretary. Such
were the relations of Rome and England.]
[Footnote 347: _L'Église Romaine et le Premier Empire_, 5 vols.,
1868-1870.]
[Footnote 348: _Le Pape et l'Empereur_ (1905), pp. 177-196.]
[Footnote 349: _See_ Rinieri, pp. 165 and 166.]
[Footnote 350: By the Brief _Catholicæ Fidei_, March 7, 1801.]
[Footnote 351: Almost the only mention of the Vatican at this period is
that in 1807 Pius had it prepared for the reception of Napoleon!]
CHAPTER XIX
PIUS IX.
In spite of the grave condition of the Catholic world, the
ill-concealed spread of liberal ideas among the educated, and the
spurts of rebellion throughout Europe, the cardinals met the new
danger with as little wisdom as their predecessors had confronted the
Reformation. The three Conclaves which were held within eight years
of the death of Pius VII. were marred by the old wrangles of parties
and ambitions of individuals, and they issued in the election of
entirely unsuitable Popes. The Papacy allied itself with the monarchs
in an effort to stifle the growing modern spirit, and imitated their
unscrupulous methods. Leo XII. and Gregory XVI., at least, left behind
them records at which modern sentiment shudders. Yet they showed as
little appreciation as Louis XVIII. or Charles X. of the irresistible
development through which Europe was passing, and there seem to be
whole centuries of evolution between their acts and announcements and
those of Leo XIII.
Cardinal della Ganga, who became Leo XII. at the death of Pius, was
a deeply religious and narrow-minded man who achieved much moral and
social reform in his dominions, yet his death in 1829 was, says Baron
Bunsen, hailed at Rome "with indecent joy." His despotic Puritan
measures angered his subjects, and his gross injustice to the Jews
and fierce persecution of the Carbonari and Liberals fed the growing
Italian hatred of the Papacy. Pius VIII. (1829-30) was a milder
_Zelante_ and had won--a singular distinction for a Pope in such
a crisis--some repute in canon law and numismatics. He was nearly
seventy years old, and his Secretary of State, the disreputable Albani,
was over eighty. The revolutionary movement of 1830 completed his
afflictions, and a Roman wag proposed as his epitaph: "He was born: he
wept: he died."[352] Then came the longer Pontificate of Gregory XVI.,
the chief events of which will pass before us as we review the earlier
career of Pius IX. Gregory was a pious, narrow-minded Camaldulese
monk. Like his predecessor, he was well versed in canon law and as ill
fitted as a man could be to rule in the nineteenth century. He left
the repression of the rebels to his Secretary of State Lambruschini,
and said his beads, and ate sweetmeats at merry little gatherings of
cardinals, while Young Italy marched nobly to the scaffold and its
brilliant writers opened the eyes of the world to the foul condition of
the Papal States.
Gregory died on June 1, 1846, dimly foreseeing an age of revolution,
and reform was now the great issue before the Conclave. The late Pope's
supporters put forward the truculent Lambruschini, but from the first
Cardinal Mastai-Ferretti was conspicuous in the voting, and on the
second day of the Conclave he was elected by thirty-seven out of fifty
votes. It was useless any longer to ignore that appalling indictment of
abuses, corruption, and incompetence which the Italian writers were
circulating throughout Europe. The cardinals chose a reformer: a man
who was at times described even as a Liberal.
Giovanni Maria Gianbattista Pietro Pellegrino Isidoro
Mastai-Ferretti--the name reflects the piety of his mother--was then
fifty-four years old. He had been born at Sinigaglia on May 13, 1792,
of parents who belonged to the small provincial nobility. He was sent
to school at Volterra, and he is variously described by fellow-pupils
who took opposite sides in the fierce conflict of his later years as
a pale, pure little angel of marvellous industry, and as a sickly,
epileptic little idler with the reputation, Trollope says, of being
"the biggest liar in the school."[353] He seems to have been a
delicate, handsome, undistinguished pupil of proper character. His
virtuous mother wished him to become a priest, and he received the
tonsure at Volterra in 1809. In October he was sent to continue his
studies at Rome, and for some months he lived in the Quirinal, in
charge of an uncle who was a canon of St. Peter's. They were related
to Pius VII. and were favoured. The French invasion of 1810 drove
them back to Sinigaglia, and Giovanni was summoned for service in
the Noble Guard of the Viceroy of Italy. His epileptic tendency was
successfully pleaded for exemption, and he returned to Rome in 1814.
It seems, however, that he was not deeply religious, and he applied
for service in the Papal Guard rather than for orders.[354] His fits
closed the military service of the Pope against him, and, on the letter
of the law, should equally exclude him from the clergy. He became very
depressed and morose, but Pius VII. strained the regulations in favour
of his young relative. He was to receive ordination on condition that
he never said mass without an assistant. In 1819 he became a priest,
and made the small progress which a distant relative of the Pope might
expect. In 1823 he accompanied a Papal representative to Chile, and
the voyage probably strengthened his constitution. Pius VII. died
during his absence from Rome, but as Giovanni's protector, Cardinal
della Ganga, became Pope, he returned to favour at Rome. He received
a canonry, the administration of the Hospital of St. Michael, and (in
1827) the archbishopric of Spoleto.
It is clear that the young Archbishop did excellent work at Spoleto,
and we must read with discretion the statements of his less
temperate critics. His predecessor had been idle and worthless, and
Mastai-Ferretti applied himself with zeal, judgment, and success to
the reform of clergy and laity. In 1829 Leo XII., his patron, died,
and Pius VIII. entered upon his short and futile Pontificate. Gregory
XVI., who succeeded him, at once met the blasts of the Revolution of
1830. The outbreak at Rome was suppressed, but the revolutionaries
captured Bologna and brought about a dangerous agitation throughout
Italy. Mastai-Ferretti is said to have been compelled to fly from
Spoleto, but his actions and attitude at this time are not wholly
clear. Austrian troops suppressed the Revolution, and Gregory entered
upon that truculent crusade against the Liberals and their claims which
diverted England from its new alliance with the Papacy and even shocked
Metternich. When the Austrians compelled him to take the Secretaryship
of State from Cardinal Bernetti, he bestowed it on the more intemperate
Cardinal Lambruschini, and the struggle with the Carbonari and the
Young Italians continued. In his Encyclical _Mirari Vos_ (August 15,
1832) Gregory pledged the Papacy to a stern refusal of the democratic
reforms which the new Europe demanded.
Mastai-Ferretti had meantime (February 16, 1832) been removed to the
bishopric of Imola: a more profitable see and a recognized path to
higher honours. His amiable and conciliatory character inclined him
to meet the more moderate Liberals with ease, though he does not seem
to have made any profound study of the political development of his
time. When Cardinal Lambruschini condemned scientific associations,
the Bishop of Imola is reported to have commented that he saw no
inconsistency between science and religion. On these safe and innocuous
expressions the Bishop won a repute for "Liberalism" among the more
reactionary members of the Curia, and Gregory XVI. long hesitated to
raise him to the cardinalate. He was an exemplary bishop, and in the
reform of education and of philanthropic institutions he performed
no slight social service, which may have attracted the esteem of the
more moderate Liberals. He was admitted to the Sacred College on
December 14, 1840, and continued for six years to direct his diocese
and encourage those temperate reforms which most of his colleagues
were too indolent or too prejudiced to favour. The condition of the
Church was again becoming critical. The Carbonari were weakened and
dispersed in Italy, but Mazzini had begun to lead "the Youth of Italy"
to a more open and more heretical attack on Austria and the Papacy,
while high-minded and humanitarian priests like Gioberti, Ventura, and
Rosmini in Italy, and Lamennais in France, were, in varying degrees,
looking to a Catholic Liberalism to ease the pressure of the growing
popular revolt. Gregory XVI. and his advisers regarded the entire
Liberal movement, in every shade, as a sinful and temporary aberration.
They passed the most drastic laws for its suppression: the prisons of
Italy were distended with their victims: yet their orthodox militia,
the Sanfedisti, had to wage a perpetual and bitter struggle against the
spreading revolt.
We who look back on this painful travail of the birth of democracy
are at times unduly impatient with idealists who failed to recognize
its promise at the time. Not merely ecclesiastical statesmen, but
heterodox observers and sons of the people like Carlyle, looked upon
the new movement as an emanation from the pit, a menace to society.
But most biographers pass to the opposite extreme when they conceive
Pius IX. as judiciously studying the demands of the age, realizing that
a moderate measure of democracy and liberty was just and inevitable,
and then renouncing his Liberal faith when he saw the excesses of the
democrats. For this there is no documentary support. Pius was amiable,
accessible, and anxious to please all: he was neither a statesman nor
an economist, and had not a firm judgment of the European situation.
He was disposed to see justice in the semi-Liberalism of Gioberti or
Ventura, and disposed the next day to listen to the Mephistophelean
counsels of Metternich. Europe was to him a world in which a large
number of thoughtful people demanded reforms which were consistent
with the political and religious supremacy of the Papacy, and he was
disposed to favour and indulge them. He failed to realize, until 1848,
that the firm and consistent demands of the new age were inconsistent
with Papal supremacy. But he clearly disliked the mediæval policy of
the Curia and he was regarded with hope by the reformers within the
fold. It was they who greeted his election in June, 1846. The more
radical Italians did not want a reforming Pope, because they did not
want a Papacy.
Pius was crowned on June 21st, and at once turned to what he would
regard as "democratic" measures. He gave dowries to a thousand poor
girls, and decreed that all pledges in the Monte di Pietà which were
less in value than two lire should be returned to their owners. On July
16th he declared a general amnesty of political prisoners, and the
Romans flocked to the Quirinal to cheer their handsome and courageous
Pope, and demonstrations of joy resounded throughout Italy. The amnesty
was in reality conditional: the released prisoners and returning exiles
were to promise not again to "disturb the public order." However,
there was at the time no severe application of the condition, and
Pius continued in his reforming mood. That he had no serious leaning
to Liberalism he made abundantly clear to the more thoughtful before
the end of the year. On November 9th he issued an Encyclical in which
he condemned Bible Societies, secret political societies, critics
of the Church, license of the press, and so on.[355] The Radicals
still mingled with the crowds below his balcony and flattered him.
Some, no doubt, had the idea that he might be induced to go farther;
but Mazzini and others have revealed that they astutely used these
demonstrations to educate the people in larger demands and provoke
a more serious revolt. Pius threw open his garden to the public on
certain days, opened night schools and Sunday schools, re-opened the
Accademia dei Lincei (for the promotion of science), and discussed
plans of railways for Italy. He was in a patriarchal mood which came
near to social idealism. Journals multiplied, and clubs became active:
especially the Circolo Romano, which gradually came under the influence
of a prosperous and very radical publican from the Trastevere, Angelo
Brunetti, nicknamed "little Cicero" (Ciceruacchio) for his demagogic
eloquence. The dreamy Christian Liberals, Gioberti and Ventura, gave
the not very penetrating Pope the idea that he was going to make a
model State of Papal Italy and, through it, to lead the world on the
new upward path.
The Radicals encouraged the clouds of incense which obscured the Pope's
vision, and he listened gravely to the requests for representative
government. On April 19, 1847, he proposed a Consulto di Stato: a
council composed of laymen from the various provinces--all carefully
selected by the clergy and gravely reminded that their business was
merely to offer suggestions. In July he formed a Civic Guard for Rome:
in November he inaugurated a scheme of municipal administration for
Rome: and at the close of December he formed a ministry--of cardinals
and other clerical dignitaries. By this time, however, Pius had
become perplexed and suspicious. Cardinal Gizzi, his Secretary of
State, resigned, the Gregorian cardinals frowned, and the Austrians
complained of his concessions. There was a banquet in Rome to Cobden,
and there was a very noisy and triumphant banquet to Ciceruacchio. The
Pope forbade popular demonstrations, yet he perceived daily that his
concessions did nothing to appease the popular appetite. The Italians
demanded elected, lay officers.
To make matters worse for the Pope the Austrians advanced against the
Papal States. The difference was adjusted, but from the summer of
1847 hostility to Austria increased rapidly, and the people demanded
an efficient Papal army to resist them. When, on February 8th, the
news came of the third French Revolution, the agitators, who had now
complete influence, became bolder. Ciceruacchio himself, supported by
the Liberal Princes Corsini and Borghese, saw the Pope, and demanded
war on Austria and democratic institutions. At sight of the massive and
resolute crowds which supported them, the Pope promised a lay ministry
and a more efficient army; but on the following day he, addressing the
crowd in patriarchal terms, complained of the excessive demands of a
"minority" among them and protested that the Papacy needed no war on
Austria, as the Catholic Powers would protect it. The Radical leaders
saw his weakness, and under their steady pressure he began to make his
famous concessions to democracy. A new ministry, with lay nobles in
most of the positions, was formed in March, the Jesuits were advised
to leave Rome, the ancient walls and restrictions of the Ghetto were
abolished, and a constitution was granted. The members of the Lower
Chamber were to be elected, but the College of Cardinals would have
a veto on the proceedings of both houses, and they could not discuss
ecclesiastical or "mixed" affairs: a very grave restriction in a
theocratic State.
The Radicals now concentrated the people on the cry of war with
Austria, and on that issue the Pope fell. The Papal troops had crossed
the frontier in support of the Sardinians, and, as Pius refused to
declare war, the Austrians treated them as brigands. The meetings
in Rome became more and more violent, the new ministry resigned,
and, as Pius still refused to declare war, a second ministry handed
in its resignation. The summer and autumn of 1848 passed in this
struggle. Pius insisted that war was not consistent with his religious
character, and all Rome united in opposing him. In November, at the
suggestion of Rosmini, the Pope ordered Pellegrino Rossi to form a
new ministry. Rossi, a friend of Napoleon III., was hated by the
Radicals, and his dream of a union of Italian princes under the Pope's
direction conflicted with their plan of a united and free Italy. He was
assassinated on November 15th, and on the following day a vast crowd,
partly armed, marched to the Quirinal and peremptorily laid down their
claims. In the confusion a prelate at one of the windows was shot, and
the Pope, seeing the Roman Guard mingling with the crowd, abjectly
surrendered, and retired to disavow his concession and prepare for
flight. The situation was very grave, and the action of the Pope was
far from heroic. It is not a maxim of the higher morality that you may
evade an angry crowd by making promises that you do not intend to
fulfil, or that you may afterwards discover that such promises were
void.
The sequel is well-known. With the assistance of the foreign
ambassadors the Pope, disguised as a simple priest, fled to Gaeta.
So great was his concern that when the King of Naples, warned of his
flight, came the next day and inquired for the Pope, the officials
at Gaeta were quite unaware that Pius had been amongst them for
twenty-four hours. The cardinals gathered about him, and he appealed
to the Catholic Powers to restore his authority and suppress the
rebels. It is not an entirely accurate analysis to say that the Pope's
"Liberalism" now ended, and he became a reactionary. He had been duped
by the Radicals and had never understood his subjects. A feeble and
carefully controlled lay representation, with neither legislative nor
executive power, was not a part of the Liberal creed. Pius IX. was
never a Liberal. He was from the first unwilling to surrender the
absolute authority of the clergy, to grant freedom of discussion, to
abolish the monstrous growth of clerical officialdom, or to apply a
fitting proportion of the income of the Papal States to their effective
military defence. When he saw that even moderate Liberals demanded
these things, he recognized that he had never been in agreement with
them, and that his own half-measures were of no value. He now further
recognized that the advanced Liberals had captured his people, and
he turned, quite logically, to a policy of oppression. There was no
material change of his political faith.
From Gaeta he appointed a "governing commission" (under a cardinal)
for Rome, and, when the people refused it and set up a Republic, he
placidly entrusted his case to France, Spain, Naples, and Sardinia,
and devoted himself to the preparation of the dogma of the Immaculate
Conception of Mary. Rosmini was still with him, urging compromise
with the democrats, but the somewhat unscrupulous Cardinal Antonelli,
who now became Secretary of State, astutely destroyed the influence
of the reformer, and confirmed Pius in his attitude of defiance and
repression. Even when the French troops--apparently thinking that they
could seduce the Romans to admit them in peace and could then compel
the Pope to adopt a conciliatory policy--crushed the Roman Republic,
and re-opened the gates to the Pope, Pius did not hasten to return. On
September 4th he left Gaeta for Portici, and it was not until April 12,
1850, that he returned to the Quirinal. The crowd ironically applauded
_Pio Nono Secondo_.
The Pope had replied to the French appeals for a promise of reform that
it was not consistent with his dignity to make promises under apparent
pressure, but he had consented to the creation of new political
institutions. From Portici he promised a new Consiglio di Stato, a
Consiglio dei Ministri, and a Consulta di Stato. These were wholly
under clerical control, and the elections for the District Councils,
the only bodies which were to have free popular representatives, were
soon suppressed. But there is little need to dwell on the second
phase of Papal government under Pius IX. Cardinal Antonelli and the
Jesuits had a paramount influence, and the dream of enlightenment and
self-government was roughly dissipated. Between 1850 and 1855 the
Roman Council alone passed ninety sentences of death, and the prisons
were again thickly populated; while the disorders of finance and
administration, and the appalling illiteracy of the people in an age
of advancing education, were scrupulously maintained. The scandal
which in later years followed the death of Antonelli--the spectacle of
his natural daughter struggling for his vast fortune, though he was a
son of the people--sufficiently disclosed the character of that able
and indelicate minister, while the Jesuits were not unmindful that
the first act of the revolution had been to expel them. They had sent
some of their abler representatives to Gaeta, and from that time they
had a deep influence on the ecclesiastical policy of the Pope, while
Antonelli ruled the Papal States and offered what Lord Clarendon called
a "scandal to Europe." Within little over a year of the Pope's return
there were more than 8000 political prisoners in the Papal jails,
while the ignorant people were oppressed by heavy taxes and an army of
clerical officials.
It is probable that Pius IX. had no clearer perception of the state
of Europe and Italy after the revolution of 1849 than he had had in
the earlier years. He devoted his attention to spiritual matters and
listened, in temporal concerns, to the suave assurances of Antonelli.
This pacified Europe was to be weaned from its bad dreams by a cult of
the Sacred Heart, devotion to the Immaculate Conception of Mary, and so
on. His first important act (September 29, 1850) was to re-establish
the hierarchy in England, to the great alarm and anger of the English
Protestants. England had quickly lost its passing sympathy with the
Papacy, and English travellers took home dreadful accounts of the
condition of the Papal States. The Pope does not seem to have been
acquainted either with the disgust of the English at the state of
his dominion or with the fact that the apparent restoration of the
old faith in England meant little more than a vast immigration from
famine-stricken Ireland.
He then applied himself to securing the dogma of the Immaculate
Conception of Mary. From Gaeta in 1849, while Mazzini and his
colleagues ruled Rome and Antonelli struggled with the representatives
of the rival Catholic Powers for his restoration, Pius had sent out
some five hundred letters to the bishops of the world, inviting their
opinion on the doctrine. It had long passed the stage of being a
disputed academic thesis, and most of the replies were favourable.
The Jesuits, who had become the special protagonists of the doctrine,
fostered the native piety of the Pope, and on December 8, 1854, it
became a dogma of the Church.[356]
In 1857 made a tour of the Italian provinces. His chief purpose was to
visit the Holy House of Loretto, but the intriguers of the Quirinal
used the opportunity to enhance the Pope's illusion that only a few
negligible fanatics quarrelled with the Papal government. In the
previous year the diplomatists assembled at the Congress of Paris had
censured that government in the most violent terms and demanded reform.
It is hardly likely that their comments were put before the Pope, and
care was taken that his reception in the provinces should flatter
his genial love of popularity. Inconvenient petitioners were refused
access to him, and the clergy and more devout laity greeted him with
applause. Gregorovius, who was then in Rome, notes in his _Diary_ that
Pius returned to the Quirinal full of joy; and a few years later the
inhabitants of these provinces would vote, by an overwhelming majority,
for the abolition of the Papal government.
In the following year the graver development of Italian politics
began. Napoleon III., whose protection of the corrupt Papal system
had infuriated the Liberals, met Cavour secretly at Plombières and
agreed, in case of attack by Austria, to help the King of Sardinia in
his ambition; his reward would be the provinces of Nice and Savoy. The
attempt by Orsini in the following January to assassinate Napoleon did
not help the diplomatists of the Vatican, as Cavour plausibly urged
that the tyranny of the Papal States was responsible for the rebels who
were scattered over Europe, and the struggle for the unity of Italy
went on from year to year. The war between Sardinia and Austria broke
out in the spring of 1859, and Austria was defeated at Magenta and
retired from the Legations. These provinces were resolutely opposed
to a return of clerical government, and Cavour, whose monarch was not
yet prepared for war on the Papacy, sent one representative after
another to persuade the Pope to permit the appointment of lay rulers of
Parma, Modena, Tuscany, and Romagna, under his suzerainty. Antonelli
and Pius refused to make the least concession to the rebels, nor were
the provincials disposed to assent to such a settlement. After some
months of insurgence and bloody repression, a plebiscite was organized
in the Legations (March 11, 1860) and an overwhelming majority voted
for incorporation in the kingdom of Sardinia. In spite of the Pope's
fulminations, Sardinia accepted the vote, and Napoleon received Nice
and Savoy as the price of his acquiescence.
Dismayed and perplexed by the futility of his appeals to the Catholic
Powers and of the spiritual censures at his disposal, the Pope now
invited volunteers, and crowds of undisciplined Irish and French
Catholics came to swell the little Papal army and fall with truculent
piety on the rebellious districts. Garibaldi, on the other hand,
forced the halting designs of Cavour, and, with the cry of "Rome or
Death," flung his irregular troops into the struggle. After a vain
effort at peaceful settlement, Cavour, "in the interest of humanity,"
sent the Sardinian regulars into the Papal States, and the Pope's
forces were destroyed in September at Castel Fidardo (in sight of the
Holy House of Loretto) and Ancona. A plebiscite was organized in Umbria
and the Marches, and there is no serious ground to question that the
figures published express the sentiment of the provinces. In Umbria
99,075 voted for Victor Emmanuel and 380 for the Pope: in the Marches
133,783 voted for Sardinia and 1212 for Rome. A large allowance for
abstentions does not alter the significance of these figures.
Pius still protected, by a conviction that the plebiscite had been
fraudulent, his illusion that only a disreputable minority resented his
beneficent government, and the diplomacy of the Quirinal during the
next ten years was the least enlightened that could have been devised
for securing the slender remaining territory. Many cardinals, and even
Antonelli, came to see that a recognition of Victor Emmanuel as King
of Italy would be the wiser course, but Pius, supported by the Jesuits
(who had founded their _Civiltà Cattolica_, as an organ of Papal
sentiment, in 1850), obstinately refused to temporize. He would have
no negotiation with "the robbers," the excommunicated rebels against
God. He retained--or the French troops still retained for him--only
Rome and the Roman district, and proclaimed that he relied on Catholic
Europe to restore his full rights. Years were spent in vain efforts
to induce him to surrender his temporal power, or to recognize Victor
Emmanuel as his "Vicar" in the kingdom of Italy, and in the meantime
the Italian aspiration for Rome as a capital grew stronger, and the
Pope's obstinate retention of his temporal possessions was easily
represented in an unfavourable light throughout Europe. The cardinals
were not indifferent to the offer of 10,000 scudi a year and seats in
the Italian Senate; and Antonelli was won by a promise of 3,000,000
scudi and rich gifts for his family. There can be little doubt that
the rapid development of anti-clericalism in Italy during the sixties,
and the growing disdain of Rome in England and France, would have been
materially checked if the Pope had been more sagacious. He dreamed that
the Catholic world still shared the crusading fervour of the Middle
Ages, and he was insensible of the selfish motives of France, Naples,
and Austria.
In the midst of the negotiations he committed the grave blunder of
issuing his Encyclical _Quanta Cura_ (December 8, 1864) with the famous
accompanying Syllabus, or list of eighty condemned propositions. There
is no need to analyze here that mediæval indictment of the modern
spirit. Many of the propositions are now commonplaces in the mind of
every educated Catholic, and it is precisely their boast that--to use
some of the condemned words--the Catholic Church may be reconciled
with "progress, liberty, and the new civilization." The pages of the
_Civiltà Cattolica_ sufficiently indicate who were the Pope's unhappy
inspirers. In brief, the document convinced Europe that Rome insisted
on being driven off the path of progress at the point of the bayonet,
and in 1866 the French evacuated Rome, leaving the Pope only 2000
mercenary soldiers, who were to don his uniform. When Garibaldi made
his third impulsive inroad--the second, in 1862, had been arrested by
the Piedmontese--in October, 1867, the French arrested him, but the
war of 1870 gave Italy its opportunity. On September 20, 1870, the
Italian troops entered the breach in the Roman walls, and the long
and romantic story of the temporal power of the Popes was over. By
the Law of Guarantees (May 15, 1871) Italy granted the Pope sovereign
rights, with an annual income of 3,250,000 lire and an extension of
extraterritorial rights to certain Roman palaces. By a final error Pius
refused to acknowledge his position, set up the melodramatic fiction
of "the Prisoner of the Vatican," and, by forbidding Catholics to
take part in the elections of the new kingdom, allowed Italy to drift
farther and farther away from his spiritual control.[357]
Meantime the famous Vatican Council had crowned his more purely
ecclesiastical work. The idea of summoning the whole Christian world
to a second and greater Trent, of healing religious dissensions and
uniting religious forces against modernism, had dazzled the imagination
of the Pope at Gaeta. His advisers encouraged him, and in 1865 he
appointed a commission to discuss the subject. In 1867, when his heart
was uplifted by the great gathering at Rome for the celebration of
the (supposed) eighteenth centenary of the martyrdom of St. Peter, he
announced the council, and in the following year (June 28, 1868) the
Bull _Æterni Patris_ invited all Christians--heretic and schismatic,
as well as orthodox--to the Vatican Council of 1869. It was opened on
December 8th, when 719 members assembled from the Catholic world.
The great issue--the one issue that may be discussed here--was the
question of defining the infallibility of the Pope. Here again the
Jesuits ardently supported the wish of Pius IX., and a struggle had
taken place in the Catholic world for some years. It was known that
such devout and influential priests as Newman in England, Bishop
Dupanloup and Archbishop Darboy in France, and Bishop Ketteler
and Cardinal Schwarzenberg and Döllinger in Germany, opposed the
definition, and the greatest care was taken in selecting members of the
council whose position did not make them entitled to sit in it. When
Newman was proposed from England, Manning (an enthusiastic supporter
of the Papal policy) and the Jesuits defeated the project, as Purcell
has since established in his life of Manning. When, however, the
seven hundred members of the council had assembled, it was realized
that between one hundred and fifty and two hundred voters regarded
a definition of infallibility as inopportune, and the procedure and
control of the council were diplomatically arranged. What Newman called
"the aggressive, insolent faction" of the Infallibilists strained every
nerve to destroy the opposition. They drew up a petition to the Pope,
and Pius was deeply annoyed to find that little over four hundred names
appeared at its foot; and of the signatories the majority were prelates
who lived at Rome in dependence on the Quirinal.
But the familiar story need not be told again in detail. The debates
were prolonged into the broiling summer, in spite of the remonstrances
of the northerners, and the Pope's indignation at the minority was
freely expressed. When, on July 13th, the vote was taken, 451 voted
"Aye," 62 voted a qualified "Aye" (_Placet juxta modum_), and 88 voted
in opposition. Pius wavered, and was disposed to listen to counsels of
compromise, but the majority pressed, and the stormy debate continued.
The Inopportunists were reduced to silence, and at the final vote, on
July 18th, only two voted against the project; though many abstained
from voting. Time has thrown a strange light on that historic struggle.
On the one hand, it has transpired that the definition was drawn up in
such terms that the controversialist could plausibly accommodate it
with the known blunders of earlier Popes, and few followed the spirited
revolt of Döllinger: on the other hand, the Papacy has from that day to
this made no use of its infallibility, in an age of perplexing doubts,
and the ardour of the Infallibilists has cooled.
During the following years the Pope sank once more into depression
as the situation in Italy engendered grave troubles. Bible Societies
and Protestant churches appeared in Italy, even in Rome, and Pius
vainly denounced the monstrosity. Bishops dare not apply to the
Italian government for their appointments, and had to remain without
incomes and palaces. The Jesuits were expelled, and in 1872 a law
of dissolution menaced the 8151 members of religious houses in Rome
and the provinces. Bavaria refused to publish the Bull _Pastor
Æternus_, and its struggle with the Church extended to Prussia and
culminated in the long and bitter Kulturkampf (1872-1887). In France
the anti-clerical Liberals gained from year to year on the Catholic
reaction which had followed the Commune of 1871, and Gambetta's
battle-cry rallied the old forces in alarming numbers. In 1876
(November 6th) Antonelli died, and the grave scandal which disclosed
his irregularities gave joy to the enemies of the Papacy. A last gleam
of consolation came to the Pope in 1877, when the Catholic world
held a magnificent celebration, on June 3d, of his episcopal jubilee.
But the aged Pope saw no retreat of the disastrous forces he had
encountered, and, after the longest and most calamitous rule in Papal
history, he died on February 7, 1878.
Little need be added in regard to his relations with other countries
than France and Italy. The record is one of both successes and failures
which were misunderstood at Rome: to the modern historian it is the
record of the lapse of millions from the Roman allegiance. In the
United States forty-four new dioceses were established between 1847 and
1877, yet the American prelates of the time bitterly lament the loss
of hundreds of thousands of scattered Catholic immigrants. In England
the Romeward movement within the English Church came to an end long
before the death of Pius, and the Church made no numerical progress
in excess of births and immigration. In Holland the hierarchy was
peacefully restored, but in Switzerland there was such tension that the
Internuncio was expelled in 1874. Russia severed relations with Rome in
1860: Württemberg (1861) and Baden (1859) signed Concordats with Rome,
but found it impossible to maintain them: and the new German Empire
was, as I said previously, involved by Bismarck and Falk in a bitter
struggle with Rome.
The relations with Catholic countries were little more satisfactory.
Sardinia had mortally offended the Quirinal long before the struggle
for Italian unity began: by a long series of anti-clerical measures
it abolished tithes, laicised education and marriage, expelled the
religious orders and confiscated their property, gave freedom of
worship to Protestants, and dealt summarily with hostile bishops.
Austria had signed in 1855 (August 18th) a Concordat which was
favourable to the Church, but the young Francis Joseph, whose education
had been carefully directed in the clerical interest, was forced by
the storm of opposition to deviate from it. It was abolished in 1870,
and four years later laws were passed which the Vatican regarded as
anti-clerical. Spain maintained, through its various revolutions, a
consistent docility, and was the only country on which the dying eyes
of the Pope could dwell with satisfaction. It contracted a favourable
Concordat on March 16, 1851, which was supplemented in 1859. Portugal
signed a favourable Concordat in 1857. In Latin America on the other
hand, the Church suffered grave reverses. Costa Rica and Guatemala
(1852), Haiti (1860), Nicaragua (1861), and San Salvador, Honduras,
Venezuela, and Ecuador (1862) signed satisfactory Concordats, but
Colombia, Mexico, Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina entered upon
anti-clerical ways, and the spirit of revolt against the clergy was
spreading throughout Southern and Central America. Not since the days
of Leo X. had the Church suffered such grave and widespread defection.
In estimating the character of Pius IX. and his relation to these
losses the modern historian has little difficulty. The exaggerations
of both his critics and his panegyrists are patent. He was a
sincerely religious and zealous man, but the hope once entertained
of his canonization (or, at least, beatification) was as absurd
as the malevolent attacks on his character from the other side.
His intellectual quality must be similarly judged: he had little
penetration, no breadth of mind, no power to read aright the symptoms
of his age. In considering the fatal obstinacy with which he refused
all accommodation in regard to his temporal power, we must carefully
bear in mind his religious views, and not merely dwell on his slight
capacity for diplomacy or statesmanship. So grave a surrender could
not be commended by a few years of revolution except to a man of
greater insight and foresight than Pius IX. In sum, he would in years
of peace and piety have made an excellent and undistinguished steward
of the Papal heritage, but he was very far from having the greatness
of mind which the circumstances of the Church required, and the vast
organization over which he so long presided emerged still further
weakened from its second historical crisis. It had fought Protestantism
and lost: it had fought Democracy and Progress and lost. It remained
for a wiser Pope to initiate the policy of accommodation.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 352: During his twenty-months' Pontificate, in 1829, Catholic
Emancipation was carried in England. But the Quirinal's share was
confined to rejoicing. Consalvi, however, had "worked incessantly" for
it, and had been much aided by the Duchess of Devonshire. See his words
in Artaud's _Histoire du Pape Léon XII._, i., 171.]
[Footnote 353: The contradiction is characteristic of the literature
on Pius IX. Most of it was written before or just after his death and
is fiercely partisan. Petruccelli della Gattina's _Pie IX._ (1866)
is the chief and least reliable of the hostile biographies: T.A.
Trollope's _Story of the Life of Pius IX._ (2 vols., 1877) is one of
the most temperate of the anti-Papal works and still has some use: F.
Hitchman's _Pius the Ninth_ (1878) is slighter but equally moderate.
Such studies as those of Shea, Maguire, Dawson, Wappmannsperger (2
vols.), Stepischnegg (2 vols.), Pougeois (6 vols.), and Freiherr von
Helfert are equally prejudiced on the Catholic side. The best study
of the character and work of Pius is Dr. F. Nielsen's _Papacy in
the Nineteenth Century_ (2 vols., 1906), a temperate (perhaps not
sufficiently critical) and scholarly work. Bishop G.S. Pelczar's
_Pio IX. e il suo Pontificato_ (3 vols., Italian translation 1909)
is learned but fulsome and undiscriminating. Father R. Ballerini's
incomplete study (published as _Les premières pages du Pontificat
du Pape Pie IX._, 1909) has no distinction. For special aspects see
D. Silvagni, _La Corte e la Società Romana_ (1885), and Count von
Hoensbroech's _Rom und das Zentrum_ (1910), and works quoted hereafter.]
[Footnote 354: Ballerini and Helfert deny this but Pelczar and Nielsen
make it clear. The graver statement of the hostile biographers--that he
spent his youth in dissipation--rests on no respectable evidence.]
[Footnote 355: _Lettres Apostoliques de Pie IX._, p. 177.]
[Footnote 356: The original documents relating to the Pope's actions
will be found in the _Acta Pii Noni_, _Acta Sanctæ Sedis_, and
_Discorsi del Summo Pontefice Pio IX_. (1872-8).]
[Footnote 357: In the plebiscite which was taken in the city of Rome
40,785 voted for incorporation and forty-six for the Pope: in the
city and province 133,681 voted for incorporation and 1507 against.
Naturally, the minority is not fully represented, as many refused to
vote.]
CHAPTER XX
LEO XIII.
When Leo XIII. mounted the Pontifical throne, the Papacy had had three
quarters of a century of disastrous experience of the reactionary
policy. The Restoration of 1815 had seemed to inaugurate for Rome a
new period of prosperity. The touching experiences of Pius VII. and
the widely recognized need of combating by religious influence the new
spirit of revolt disposed the monarchs of Europe, and a large part of
their subjects, to regard the successor of Peter with respect. He had
been their ally in resisting Napoleon: he was their ally in restoring
feudalism. England moderated its rude tradition of "the Scarlet Woman."
The Tsar of the Russias felt that Romanism was a large element in the
spiritual renaissance he contemplated. Louis XVIII. remembered how
altar and throne had fallen together. Ferdinand of Spain drowned the
revolt in blood. Austria reconsidered its Febronianism. Italy seemed
incapable of rebellion.
But the revolutionary wave had retired only to come back with greater
effect, and from 1830 to 1850 the face of Europe was transformed. The
Popes almost alone defied the spirit to which monarchs bowed, and they
stood almost alone amid their ruins. England returned to its disdain:
Russia and Switzerland angrily broke off relations with the Vatican:
Germany was engaged in what the Vatican regarded as a formidable
effort to crush Catholicism in the new Empire. Austria was sullen and
weakened. France was rapidly passing into its third and final revolt
against Catholicism. Spain was forced into an alliance with the growing
Liberals against the Carlists. Italy was overwhelmingly opposed to the
Papacy on what the Papacy declared to be a sacred and vital issue, and
was honeycombed with Rationalism. Belgium was almost dominated by a
Liberal middle class. The South American republics were falling away
in succession. The two most profoundly Catholic peoples, Ireland and
Poland, were ruined, and their children were scattered and seduced.
Thus would any penetrating cardinal have interpreted the situation
of the Church in 1878; yet, if his penetration were great enough, he
would see that there was a tendency among this Liberal middle class,
which now dominated Europe, to seek once more an alliance with religion
against the deeper social heresies which were appearing. Would the new
Pope prove subtle enough to grasp that opportunity and save the Church?
His "infallibility" would avail little: he would be unwise to emphasize
it. He must be a diplomatist and a rhetorician.
The new Pope, Leo XIII., was nearly sixty-eight years old, and had
had a better education in the history of the nineteenth century than
most of the Italian cardinals had. Gioacchino Vincenzo Raffaele Luigi
Pecci was born on March 2, 1810, at Carpineto. His first lesson, in
the country mansion, would be to hear his father. Colonel Pecci, and
his very pious mother, a Tertiary of the Franciscan Order, talk of the
Napoleonic nightmare that had just passed away. From the age of eight
to fourteen he was under the care of the Jesuits at Viterbo, and, as
it was represented to him that the younger sons in so large a family
had to look to the Church for their income, after some hesitation, he
allowed them to tonsure him, at the age of eleven.[358] In 1824 his
mother died, and he went to study, still under the Jesuits, at the
Collegio Romano at Rome. He had conspicuous ability and high character,
and besides improving his Latin--he already wrote Latin poems--he
studied philosophy, mathematics, chemistry, and astronomy. He attracted
attention, as clever boys attract the attention of the clergy, and
was directed toward the clerical career. He must enter the "Academy
for Noble Ecclesiastics," said one prelate; and, with the aid of his
brothers, he drew up a genealogical tree to prove that his father, the
easy-going colonel of Carpineto, was descended from the mediæval Pecci
of Siena. The Academy did not pronounce his proof valid--the connexion
is probable enough--but, on his merits, and in view of his important
patrons, admitted him among the nobles of Anagni (1831).
Joachim--he had called himself Vincenzo until 1832--took a degree in
theology, and told his brothers that he was going to illumine their
ancient family. He still loved to take a flintlock musket over the
hills during his holidays, but he indulged in no dissipations and
became pale and thin over the books which were to help his ambition.
His father died in 1836, and it is in his naïve letters to his
brothers that we discover the human elements ignored by his eloquent
biographers.[359] He begins to follow politics, in the most ardent
Papal spirit. Cardinal Pacca, the intransigeant, recommended the
pale, slim young cleric to Gregory XVI., and in 1837 he was appointed
domestic prelate. Cardinal Sala also befriended the young Monsignore,
and he went from one small office to another. Sala pointed out that for
further advancement he must become a priest, and he became a priest
(December 31, 1837); but his letters make it clear that he entered the
priesthood in a mood of such exalted piety that Sala feared he was
about to quit the world and become a Jesuit.
About a month after his ordination (February 2, 1838) he was appointed
Apostolic Delegate (Civil Governor) of Benevento, where the brigandage
which disgraced the Papal States was particularly rabid. In three
years, with the aid of a skilful chief of police, he almost suppressed
brigandage and smuggling, and did much for the province. His progress
was not so heroically triumphant as the biographers represent. In his
letters to his brothers he complains that his predecessor has robbed
the treasury and they must help him: that his ninety-seven ducats
a month do not enable him to have the fine horses and carriage he
needs: and, later (in 1839), that the clerics at Rome are plotting
to cheat him of the higher promotion which he deserves. In 1841 the
Pope transferred him to Perugia, and he did good work in reforming
education, founding a bank for small traders, and so on.
In January, 1843, his real education began. He was appointed Nuncio at
Brussels and was made titular Archbishop of Damietta. Able as he was,
the promotion to so important an office was premature. Of French (or
any languages but Latin and Italian) he knew not a syllable until he
set out, and with the modern thought which was then current in Brussels
he was acquainted only by means of the version of it given by Pius IX.
in the Syllabus, of which he fully approved. His handsome presence and
amiable ways carried him far. There is an almost boyish expression on
his face at this period: on the long, thin, smiling face and bright
eyes and soft sensuous mouth. King Leopold, a Protestant, liked him,
and allowed the young archbishop to attract him to religious functions
and persuade him of the importance of religion in appeasing social
ambitions. Pecci, in turn, could not contemplate the gas-lit streets,
the railways, the postal system, etc., of Belgium, without realizing
that the Papal States would have to admit _something_ of this modern
thought. But he was for a safe modernism, consistent with the _Quanta
Cura_ and the Syllabus. He was suave to all: even to the rebellious
Gioberti, who was then giving Italian lessons in Brussels. To this
period of his career belongs the good story of a naughty Liberal
marquis, who ventured to offer him a pinch of snuff from a box which
was adorned with a nude Venus, and the Archbishop is said to have taken
it and asked: "Madame la marquise?" Secretly, however, he urged the
Catholics to organize a struggle against the Liberals. The Liberals
wanted a compromise on the school-question, and, when the Nuncio
assisted in defeating it, the Premier Deschamps wrote contemptuously
to Rome that they would like a Nuncio who was a "statesman." As,
about the same time, the bishopric of Perugia fell vacant and the
Perugians asked for their former Delegate, Gregory recalled Pecci. His
disappointment--which he plainly expresses in his letters--was softened
only by the Pope's assurance that the transfer would be regarded as
"equal to promotion to a nunciature of the first class"; in other
words, he remained on the path to the cardinalate, as he desired.[360]
From Brussels he brought a warm testimonial written by King Leopold,
and he spent a month in London (where he had an interview with the
Queen) and some weeks in Paris. He reached Rome in May (1846), to
find Gregory dying, and he witnessed the election of Pius IX., and,
at Perugia, applauded the early "liberalism" of the Pope. Perugia had
a large share of the advanced thinkers who now overran Italy, and
the Bishop would assuredly become more closely acquainted with their
ideas. From his later encyclicals, however, one must suppose that he
never made a profound study of their claims, either on the intellectual
or the social side. Of philosophy he had only the mediæval version
given him in the Collegio Romano and the Sapienza, and of economics
or sociology he knew nothing. Such science as he knew--the elements
of chemistry and astronomy--was easily reconcilable with religion,
and this gave him an apparently liberal attitude toward science. On
the other hand, he had genuine sympathies and he felt that the new
aspirations of the working class were not to be met with a sheer
rebuff.[361] The ideas of Gioberti and Ventura appealed to him. Even
when Gioberti had fallen out of favour at the Quirinal, Archbishop
Pecci, when he passed through Perugia in 1848, gave him hospitality in
his palace. Henri des Houx affirms that he heard on good authority that
for this Pius IX. suspended the Archbishop from pontifical duties for
several weeks. Later, he incurred suspicion by permitting a memorial
service at the death of Cavour. It is admitted by the leading Catholic
biographers that he was in bad odour at the Quirinal. The promised
cardinal's hat was withheld for eight years[362] and his great ability
was wasted on a provincial bishopric. The slight is ascribed to the
jealousy of Cardinal Antonelli, and his advance after the Secretary's
death confirms the suspicion.
It is, however, plain that Pecci was a most excellent Bishop, and that
he was no more "Liberal" than Pius IX. in his first year. He strictly
organized the work and education of the clergy, restored the seminary
and built a College of St. Thomas, founded many schools, churches, and
hospitals, brought Brothers of Mercy and nuns from Belgium, and opened
a branch of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. He left a fine record of
religious-social work, and the orthodox poor loved him. Yet we must
set aside the exaggerations of biographers. Pecci cherished the purely
Papal ideal and was out of touch with the majority of his people. In
1859, when a group of rebels set up a "Provisional Government" at
Perugia, he nervously shut himself in his palace for two days and,
without a protest, allowed the ferocious Swiss Guard sent by Antonelli
to wear themselves out in an orgy of slaughter and pillage. A few
months later Sardinia expelled the Papal troops, and, when a plebiscite
was taken, 97,000 voted for incorporation in the kingdom of Sardinia,
and only 386 voted against. The Archbishop protested emphatically
and consistently against the seizure of the Pope's temporal power,
and, when the hated laws of Sardinia were successively applied to
Perugia (on civil marriage, the suppression of the religious orders,
military service for clerics, etc.), he continued to protest in the
warmest language. In 1862 he suspended three priests who adopted the
Italian cause, and was cited before the civil tribunal; but the case
was allowed to lapse. We know that he was carefully watched from the
Quirinal, and that he had an informant of his own at the Curia,[363]
but his pronouncements and letters make it abundantly clear that he
never swerved from the strict Papal conception of contemporary thought
and politics.
Antonelli died in December, 1876, and (as is ignored by most of his
biographers) Pecci very shortly went to live at Rome--long before he
was appointed Chamberlain. He had an able coadjutor in the bishopric,
and he pleaded his age and increasing weakness. He lived in the modest
Falconieri Palace, and trusted to get a suburbicarian bishopric. To
his annoyance, two which fell vacant in the next few weeks were given
by Pius to others, but at length, in August, the Pope appointed him
Camerlengo (Chamberlain). In that capacity he had, the following
February, to tap the dead Pope on the forehead with a hammer and to
arrange the Conclave. He was not widely known at Rome, and few foresaw
his elevation to the throne. It is, in fact, probable that Pius IX.
had made him Camerlengo, not in order to exclude him from the Papacy,
but because he was not likely to be required for it. Since Alexander
VI. no Chamberlain had been elected Pope. There were, however, shrewd
observers who predicted his rise, and little surprise was expressed
when, after the third scrutiny, on February 20th, he secured forty-four
out of the sixty-one votes. We may set aside romantic speculations
about the Conclave. A few cardinals perceived that the Church needed
in its ruler just such a combination of clear intelligence, broad
knowledge, and diplomatic temper as Cardinal Pecci possessed, and
he was sufficiently sound on Papal politics to disarm the more
conservative. It is not impossible that waverers reflected as they
gazed on the worn white frame of the cardinal, that, whatever policy he
adopted, Leo XIII. would not long rule the Church.
The Liberal press had recalled his friendship with Gioberti and his
permission of a service in memory of Cavour, but Leo quickly reassured
the more rigid cardinals. The crowd gathered in the great square
to receive the blessing of the new Pope, yet hour followed hour
without his making an appearance. R. de Cesare shows that the Italian
Government was prepared, not only to preserve order, but to render
military honours if he appeared on the balcony. The intransigeant
cardinals opposed it, and four hours later he gave the blessing inside
St. Peter's. Similarly with his coronation. It is untrue that the
Italian Government refused to take measures to preserve order if he
were, as was usual, crowned in St. Peter's. On the advice of the more
conservative cardinals he chose to be crowned in semi-privacy in the
Sistine Chapel on March 3d.[364] Indeed when, on February 22d, he had
been compelled to go to his late palace for his papers, he crossed
Rome in the utmost secrecy. He would, like Pius, have "no truck with
the robbers." To the Kaiser, the Tsar, and the Swiss President he had
written on the day of his election to say that he looked forward to
more friendly relations, but in his first Consistory, on March 28th, he
assured the cardinals that there would be no reconciliation with Italy,
and on April 28th he issued his first Encyclical, _Inscrutabile_, in
which, besides asserting the claim of the temporal power, he described
Europe, in more graceful terms than Pius, yet in the same spirit, as
filled with a "pestilential virus" and nearing death unless it speedily
took the antidote of Papal obedience. There was to be no truck with
"the new civilization" also.
Yet Leo XIII. has passed into contemporary history as the great
"reconciler of differences," in Carlyle's phrase: the man who, by a
superb diplomacy and a fortunate conjunction of character and genius,
rescued the Church from the dangerous position in which Pius IX. had
left it and raised it to a higher level of prestige and power. The
historian must make allowance for contemporary enthusiasm. Probably
most rulers of ability and character have left that impression among
the generation which witnessed their death. Leo, moreover, as befitted
a temperate and high-minded man, excited no bitter opposition. All
the current biographies of him are from Catholic pens: few of them
even pretend to have the candour and balance of historical writers.
Leo's story is still to be written. It suffices here to remark that
the forces he most fiercely combated--Socialism and Rationalism--made
during his Pontificate a progress out of all proportion to the increase
of population: that the Church of Rome actually decreased, if we take
account of the growth of population: and that "modernism" within the
Church became the customary attitude of cultivated Catholics. Among
the most potent facts of his Pontificate are the facts that France, to
retain which he made grave sacrifices, was entirely lost to the Church:
that Italy, which he defied, has established its position with absolute
security and abandoned its creed to a remarkable extent: that Portugal,
Spain, and Spanish-America have witnessed a similar spread of revolt:
that in England, Germany, and America there has been no progress other
than increase by births and immigration: that Leo's effort to check
Socialism by a Christian social zeal failed and was almost abandoned by
him in his later years: and that his attempt to impose St. Thomas of
Aquinas on modern thought and his design of directing modern Scriptural
research have only embarrassed the scholars of his Church. He was one
of the great men of his great age, the ablest Pope in three hundred
years: but he failed. He made no impression whatever on what he called
the "diseases" of modern thought and life, and he left his Church
numerically weaker--in proportion to the increase of population--than
he found it.[365]
His policy in Italy is almost invariably described as being
conciliatory without sacrificing the Papal claim. We cannot regard
as entirely amiable a policy of reminding the Italian monarchy
and statesmen, every few years, that they are sacrilegious and
excommunicated thieves, and it is surely now clear that Leo erred in
maintaining the attitude of Pius and forbidding Catholics to take
part in the elections. The _Catholic Encyclopædia_ imputes to him the
remarkable expectation that the revolutionary elements in Italy would,
if not checked by the Catholic vote, win power at the polls and the
government would seek the aid of the Vatican; and the writer describes
this as a miscalculation which Pius X. was obliged to correct.[366]
Indeed the one wise move on the part of Leo XIII. in regard to
Italy is either suppressed or discussed with strained scepticism by
Catholic writers. During the first few years after his coronation Leo
continued to protest against the wickedness of the world in general
and of Italy in particular. In 1881 he had a singular and unpleasant
proof of the resentment of Rome. On July 13th the remains of Pius IX.
were transferred to the Church of St. Lawrence, where he wished to
be buried, and, the government feeling that a public ceremony would
lead to disorder, the translation was to be secret and nocturnal. But
the "secret" was carefully divulged before the hour, and a vast crowd
of the faithful assembled to do homage to the Papa-Re. The rougher
anti-clericals were thus stimulated to make an unseemly protest, and
Leo took occasion again to protest to the Catholic Powers that his
position was intolerable.
On April 24, 1881, the Pope urged the Catholic Associations to enter
the field of municipal politics, and in the following year he, in the
Encyclical _Etsi nos_ (February 5th), and on the occasion of the death
of Garibaldi (June 2d), again made severe attacks upon Italy. The
friction increased. In July (1882) Leo had to protest that bishops,
not recognizing the government, received no incomes or palaces, and
that monks and nuns who endeavoured to evade the law of suppression
were hardly treated. Then a dismissed employee of the Vatican brought
an action against the Pope in the Italian court, and though the action
was dismissed, the court claimed jurisdiction, and Leo made a heated
protest to France and Austria. In 1884 the Propaganda was compelled to
invest its money in Italian funds, and the Pope, after the customary
protest, set up a number of procurators in foreign countries to whom
the faithful might send their offerings. In 1886 the anti-clerical
campaign became more violent; tithes were abolished, and many Italian
Catholics began to desire reconciliation. Italy entered into the Triple
Alliance with Austria and Germany, and henceforward appeals to the
"Catholic" Powers were obviously futile. France itself had by this
time an anti-clerical government and majority, and German and Austrian
Catholics bitterly resented the Italian attack on the Triple Alliance.
In February, 1887, Cardinal Jacobini, the Secretary of State, died, and
Cardinal Rampolla entered upon his famous career. Leo openly directed
the new Secretary to insist on the restoration of the temporal power,
and ordered that the Rosary be recited nightly in the churches of
Rome. But in the course of that year there was a change in the Vatican
policy, though, since it was unsuccessful, it is usually concealed or
called into question. Crispi himself revealed, a few years later, that
there were negotiations for a settlement between the Vatican and the
Quirinal, and that France, irritated by the Triple Alliance, threatened
to put greater pressure on its Church unless the Pope withdrew from the
negotiations.[367] Mgr. de T'Serclaes virtually admits the fact, and
conjectures that Crispi wanted Italy to have a share in the approaching
celebration of the Pope's Jubilee. We have no right to question
Crispi's assurance that France intervened, and that the Vatican
was willing to hear of compromise. The Papal authorities, however,
concealed the unsuccessful offer and returned to the earlier attitude.
The Pope's sacerdotal Jubilee was celebrated in 1888 with immense
rejoicings, and the anti-clericals retorted with fresh legislation. In
1889 a statue of Giordano Bruno was erected at Rome. It is said that
Leo XIII. spent the hours of the demonstration in tears at the foot of
the altar, and that he had some idea of leaving Rome. The gates of the
Vatican were carefully watched, and there was great excitement in Rome
when it was announced that he had actually passed over a few yards of
Roman territory--to visit the studio of a sculptor near the Vatican.
But the Pope clung to his theory of being imprisoned in the Vatican,
and the remaining years were like the earlier: anathema on one side,
disdain and defiance on the other. When he died, the laity of Rome
itself had become so largely anti-clerical that Catholic Deputies to
the Chamber did not care to be seen going to mass, and in the north
Socialism was advancing at a remarkable pace.
In Germany, on the other hand, Leo won considerable success, though
his biographers describe it inaccurately. The _Kulturkampf_ was at its
height when Leo was elected, and he at once wrote a firm and courteous
letter to the Emperor, trusting that peace would be restored. In his
cold and ironical reply (evidently written by Bismarck) the Emperor
observed that there would be peace when the Pope directed the clergy
to obey the laws, and Leo retorted (April 17, 1878) that the laws
were inconsistent with the Catholic conscience. But circumstances
favoured the Pope. Two attempts were made to assassinate the Emperor,
and he directed Bismarck to see that rebellious impulses in the young
were checked by religious education. It seems clear that the Emperor
had begun to dislike the struggle with the Church, and by this time
Bismarck himself must have seen that persecution had led only to the
better organization and greater energy of the Catholics, while his
policy was threatened from another side by the rapid advance of Social
Democracy. The Papal Nuncio at Munich, Mgr. Aloisi-Masella, was invited
to Berlin. He was instructed from Rome to decline the invitation, and
Bismarck arranged a "wayside inn" meeting at Kissingen. As Bismarck
insisted on the government retaining a veto on all ecclesiastical
appointments, the negotiations broke down, and little progress was made
when they were resumed by the Vienna Nuncio and Prince von Reuss.
In the following year Falk, the framer of the famous May Laws,
resigned, and the Vatican resumed its efforts. On February 24, 1880,
the Pope informed the Archbishop of Cologne that the government might
have a restricted veto on the ordinations of priests if it would
grant an amnesty--eight out of twelve bishops were still in exile or
prison--and modify the laws. Bismarck refused, but there was some
relaxation of the laws. In 1881 several bishops were appointed, and in
1882 Bismarck voted funds for a German representative at the Vatican.
It was, however, at once discovered that the bargain put the Pope in a
dilemma. Bismarck demanded that Leo should direct the Alsatian clergy
to submit, but, though the Pope promised that he would "see to it,"
he dared not interfere. In 1884 diplomatic relations were formally
restored. Several bishops returned from exile, and episcopal incomes
were restored; but the amnesty was not extended to the Archbishop of
Cologne and the Archbishop of Gnesen and Posen, and Catholic students
were not allowed to go to Louvain, Rome, or Innspruck.
In 1885 Bismarck made a further step by inviting the Pope to mediate
between Germany and Spain in their quarrel for the possession of the
Caroline Islands. It is said that Bismarck was entrapped into this
by a Catholic journalist announcing that Spain was about to make the
invitation. However that may be, the invitation flattered the Vatican,
and the two rebellious archbishops were "persuaded" by the Pope to
resign. The German Catholics were now beginning to murmur against the
Pope, and the negotiations proceeded slowly, but in 1886 Bismarck
bluntly denounced the May Laws, and it was proposed to modify them.
Shortly afterwards, however, it appeared that the Pope had conveyed
an impression that he would pay a high price (besides the veto on
priests) for the surrender. The Centre Party opposed Bismarck's new
law of military service, and he appealed to Rome. Rampolla, through
the Bavarian Nuncio, directed the Catholic members to desist, but,
to the equal dismay of the Chancellor and the Pope, they refused to
obey and caused a dissolution of the Reichstag. Their leader, Baron
Frankenstein, replied to the Bavarian Nuncio that they took orders
from Rome only in ecclesiastical matters.[368] Bismarck, in his anger,
got copies of the letters and published them. What followed we can
only gather from the sequel. The Centre withdrew its opposition,
the military law was passed, and the May Laws were modified. German
Liberals beheld the strange spectacle of the Iron Chancellor, in the
Reichstag, indignantly denying that the Pope was a "foreign power," who
ought not to intervene in German affairs.
No further concessions were won from Germany--the Jesuits are still
excluded--but since 1887 the Church in that country has enjoyed
comparative peace and prosperity. William II. acceded to the throne
in 1888, and from the first he insisted on friendly relations with
Rome. On three occasions (1888, 1893, and 1903) he visited Leo at the
Vatican. Bismarck retired in 1890, after a final defeat by the Centre
Party. The money due to the bishops (whose incomes had been suspended)
now amounted to more than £400,000, and Bismarck invited the Pope to
compromise in regard to it. Leo refused; the government must settle the
matter with the Catholics of Germany, he said. In the later debate in
the Reichstag the Minister of Worship heatedly denounced the Pope for
duplicity, but the Centre had its way and the whole sum was restored
to the bishops. It is further claimed, though without documentary
evidence, that the Emperor's visit to the Vatican in 1893 was for
the purpose of urging the Pope to order the members of the Centre to
support the new military laws. In the sequel the Catholic members were
divided and the laws passed. But documents on these recent events
will not reach the eye of this generation, and we cannot be sure how
far the _Kulturkampf_ was abandoned as a reward for Papal support of
Germany's military policy. On the other hand, the alliance in hostility
to Socialism has proved a failure. The Catholic vote at the polls fell,
during Leo's Pontificate, from 27.9 per cent. of the total vote to 19.7
(in 1903): the Social Democratic vote increased nearly tenfold.[369]
In France the policy of the Pope was correct and particularly
unsuccessful. A few years after the fall of the Papal States the number
of professing Catholics in France arose to about thirty millions in
a nation of thirty-six millions; and the sincerity of a very large
proportion may be judged from the fact that nearly two thirds of the
Papal income from Peter's Pence (which rose to nearly half a million
sterling a year) came from French Catholics. Yet when Leo died, the
professing Catholics had fallen to about six millions in a population
of thirty-nine millions. We must beware of ascribing this failure to
Leo XIII., though undoubtedly he never exhibited a sound knowledge
or statesmanlike grasp of the situation in France. That country was
developing along anti-clerical lines, and no Pope or prelate could
have diverted it. Leo was absorbed in the superficial struggle of
royalists and republicans until the serious development had proceeded
too far. In the later seventies the anti-clericals began to assert
their rapidly growing power and influence legislation. The Jesuits
were again expelled, and education further withdrawn from Catholic
control. The Pope followed the development in helpless concern until
October 22, 1880, when, at the demand of the French faithful, he passed
his censure. The Republican authorities paid no heed and in 1883 Leo
sent a protest to President Grévy. In a cold and indifferent reply the
President pointed out that the Catholic clergy could expect little
favour from a Republican institution which they constantly attacked,
and the Pope's attention was forcibly drawn to the royalist agitation
which divided the Church and fed the anti-clerical campaign against
it. We must conclude that Leo, like so many Catholics, miscalculated
the recuperating power of royalism, besides fearing to offend a
powerful section of the clergy and laity, as he still hesitated to
direct Catholics to submit to the Republic. For a time he trusted
that the democratic movement headed by the Comte de Mun would bring
relief, but it increased the confusion, and on February 16, 1892, Leo
issued his famous Encyclical, urging the French Catholics to submit
to the Republic and assail only its anti-clerical laws. The royalists
sulked: in one diocese the Peter's Pence offerings fell from £60,000 to
£35,000. Even the Panama Scandal in 1893 failed to yield any advantage,
and the Church completed its series of blunders by adopting the crusade
against Dreyfus. In his later years Leo could but helplessly look on
while Waldeck-Rousseau and Combes disestablished and debilitated the
Church. Even within the Church he was compelled to witness an immense
advance of the "Americanism" which he detested.[370]
In Belgium the political circumstances were more favourable to the
plans of the Vatican. In the summer of 1879 the Liberals passed a law
for the secularization of the elementary schools, and the Catholics
complained that the Pope, who blamed the violence of their language,
failed to discharge his office with due severity. In point of fact, Leo
was working so diplomatically, assuring the King that the clergy must
respect the civil authority and separately encouraging the clergy to
resist "iniquitous" laws, that the government at length publicly taxed
him with duplicity and withdrew its representative from Rome. In 1885,
however, the Catholics returned to power, and, enjoying the advantage
of a division of the hostile forces (Liberals and Socialists),
established a lasting influence in the country.
Austria, on the other hand, proved unsatisfactory to the Vatican. From
the day of its alliance with Italy the Roman officials looked with
annoyance on Austria, and the consistent tone of Mgr. de T'Serclaes'
references to it reflect the Vatican attitude. A letter which the Pope
wrote to the bishops of Hungary in 1886, urging them to resist the new
and unecclesiastical laws in regard to marriage and education, was
construed as a wish to cause trouble in Austria, or between Austria and
Italy, and the same murmurs arose when Leo urged the Austrian clergy
to resist further Liberal laws in 1890. The laws were carried, and
the protests of the Pope were disregarded. In Spain the Pope was more
fortunate, as he curbed the disposition of the clergy to adopt the
ill-fated Carlist cause.[371] Portugal remained outwardly faithful, and
a Concordat granted by the King in 1886 permitted the Pope to effect a
much needed reform in the ecclesiastical administration of India. Some
advantages were won, also, in Switzerland, where the older hostility
was checked, and the Church prospered.
The relations of the Vatican with Russia were singular, and gave rise
to bitter complaint among the Catholic subjects of the Tsar. To the
amiable letter in which Leo announced his election the Tsar gave a cold
and discouraging reply. In 1879, however, the attempt on the Tsar's
life gave Leo an opportunity to insinuate his belief that only Catholic
influence could curb these criminal impulses; and when Alexander II was
assassinated in 1883, he approached his successor with more success. In
the succeeding years of diplomatic intercourse the repression of the
Catholic Poles was partly relieved; but no concession was made when the
Pope presented to the Tsar the petition of the Ruthenian Catholics in
1884, or when he deprecated the exile of the Bishop of Wilna in 1885.
In 1888, however, Russia approached the Vatican through Vienna, and the
negotiations have given rise to acute controversy. The Poles murmured
that the Pope was disposed to betray their national interests in order
to please France by obliging its virtual ally, Russia. How far the Pope
was preparing to enforce on the Poles the Russian demands--for a more
extensive use of the Russian language in Poland and for a surrender
of the offspring of mixed marriages--and to what extent he realized
the true designs of Russia, cannot be confidently determined. It is
clear only that he meditated concession, and the suspicion that he thus
sought a political advantage in France is not implausible.
A similar complaint arose among that other shattered Catholic nation,
the Irish. The Parnellite movement of the eighties, it was said, was
used by him as a means of accommodating and conciliating England;
and there is little room for doubt that this design influenced his
policy. It was one of the general lines of his campaign in Europe to
persuade rulers that the power of his Church would be their greatest
guarantee of docility. In 1881 he warned Archbishop McCabe that the
disturbances of public order in Ireland were not to be favoured, and he
made the hint more explicit in the following year. In 1883 he gravely
disturbed the Irish Catholics by issuing a drastic condemnation of the
Parnell Testimonial Fund and forbidding the clergy to work for it;
while Errington was amiably received at the Vatican. The disturbance
became graver, and in 1885 Leo summoned the Irish bishops to Rome. Even
their representations failed to disturb his policy, and on April 13,
1888 (after a Roman envoy, Mgr. Persico, had been sent on the quaint
mission of studying the situation in Ireland), a decree of the Holy
Office condemned the "Plan of Campaign." So loud were the murmurs at
this invasion of the political rights of the Irish that an Encyclical
(_Sæpe Nos_) had to be dispatched on June 24 to secure the submission
of the bishops. We may at least discover some penetration in the Pope's
confidence that Ireland would not permanently resent the abuse of his
authority.
The advantage gained in England was slight. The broad stream of
immigration from Ireland since 1840, which had given the illusion of
a rapid growth of Catholicism, and the more slender stream which is
associated with the Oxford Movement, had materially lessened, and a
period of loss had begun (in proportion to the increase of population).
For nearly two decades the Pope was content with domestic measures like
the regulation of the conflicts between monks and bishops (May 8, 1881)
and the establishment of an hierarchy in India. On April 20, 1895,
he took a bolder step, and in the Encyclical _Ad Anglos_ invited the
English people to renew their ancient allegiance to Rome. Undismayed
by the absence of a response, he, on September 13, 1896, issued the
famous Encyclical _Apostolicæ Curæ_, in which he assailed the validity
of orders in the English Church. The brisk controversy which ensued
does not concern us; but we may assume that, from the figures at the
disposal of the Vatican, the Pope would sadly realize, when the century
drew to a close, that the Catholic Church in England had not increased,
beyond the natural growth by births and immigration, during his long
and laborious Pontificate.
In the United States Leo had a thorny task. With his keen scent for
Socialistic insurgence against constituted authority, he proposed,
in 1887, to condemn the 730,000 American Catholic workers who were
incorporated in the "Knights of Labour." Cardinal Gibbon defended
them, and a grudging toleration was issued from Rome. In 1893 the Pope
sought to improve his relations with the Republic by taking a handsome
part in the fourth centenary of the discovery of America, but by that
time a grave struggle had begun to rend the cosmopolitan Church in
the States. Americans naturally resented the Germanism of the German
Catholic schools, and in 1892 Archbishop Ireland consented to hand over
to the School Board some of these elementary schools, on condition
that the Catholic teachers were retained and hours were assigned for
religious instruction. The Germans and the Ultramontanes raised the cry
that Ireland and Gibbon were favouring the "godless schools" of the
Republic, and denounced the plan to Rome. Again the Cardinal and the
Archbishop won a grudging _tolerari posse_ ("may be tolerated in the
circumstances") but a fierce agitation went on in the American Church,
and the Pope's representative, Mgr. Satolli, was vigorously opposed by
the more American prelates.
In 1896 it was believed that Satolli was instrumental in securing the
removal of Mgr. Keane from the rectorship of the Catholic University at
Washington, and when an intriguing German professor was dismissed by
the University authorities and Rome demanded his restoration. Cardinal
Gibbon forced the Pope to withdraw the demand. The ultras then--with
the persistent aid of the Jesuits and their _Civiltà Cattolica_ at
Rome--attacked a biography of Father Hecker, of which an American
translation had been published with warm recommendations from Ireland
and Gibbon. A Roman prelate authorized the printing of a scathing
attack on the book, and, although Rampolla protested that neither he
nor the Pope was involved in the authorization, the American prelates
took up a menacing attitude. At this juncture Leo, whose repeated
counsels to lay the strife had been disregarded, wrote his famous
letter on Americanism to Cardinal Gibbon (January 22d, 1899). Piquant
stories are told of the sentiments expressed by the American prelates,
but these the historian cannot as yet control. The struggle ended in a
compromise. The book was not condemned, but quietly withdrawn, and the
American prelates generally disavowed the principles to which the Pope
gave the name of Americanism.
These are but feeble summaries of the vast diplomatic activity which
absorbed the long days of the venerable Pontiff, and one must leave
almost unnoticed other important actions. In 1885 he negotiated with
the Chinese government for the representative of the Celestial Empire
at Rome, but the French, rightly suspecting an intrigue on the part of
Germany to strengthen its influence in the Far East, forced him to
desist. He had the satisfaction of closing a schism in the Armenian
Church (1878), and secured favourable measures in some of the Balkan
States and a few of the South American republics. He restored the
Borgia Rooms in the Vatican (1897), created a modern observatory out
of the old Gregorian observatory of the sixteenth century (1888),
formed a Reference Library of 30,000 volumes at the Vatican, and opened
the Vatican archives to scholars (1883).[372] Frail, worn to a pale
shade of his former self, the devoted Pope maintained to the end his
formidable struggle against a seceding world. Rising at six in the
morning--often having summoned his secretary to the bedside during the
night--he said his mass and heard a mass said by his chaplain. Then
after a cup of chocolate or goat's milk, he began the long day's work
with Rampolla, or impressed his innumerable visitors with his piercing
dark eyes and translucent features. At two he dined--soup, eggs (rarely
meat), and a little claret--and then, after a nap or a drive in the
gardens, returned to work until his simple supper at ten. After that
the journals of the world, carefully marked, were read to him; and the
burning lamp told of his ceaseless thinking and praying until after
midnight. Fortunately he did not, like so many Popes, lack financial
resources. The Papal income before 1870 had been about £130,000, and
the Italian government had offered to pay this. When Pius IX. refused
the offer, his income was swollen by voluntary gifts to £400,000
a year, and he left nearly a million and a quarter sterling to his
successor. In addition to this large income Leo received vast sums
on the occasion of his Sacerdotal Jubilee in 1888 and his Episcopal
Jubilee in 1893: the presents (besides Peter's Pence) in 1888 were
valued at £2,000,000 by the Vatican authorities, and in 1893 the money
offered amounted to £1,600,000.
The chief means by which the Pope created in his followers the illusion
of triumphant statesmanship was the Encyclical. A most assiduous
student of Latin from his boyhood, he raised the ecclesiastical tongue
to a level it had rarely touched and impressed the world with his
literary scholarship. A Roman prelate once described to me how he would
linger over the composition, toying with his pen and saying to his
secretary: "What _is_ that word that Sallust uses?" His style was an
attempt to combine the graceful lucidity of Sallust and the opulence of
Cicero. The literary merit of his Encyclicals was so great that even
generally informed men at times overlooked the inadequacy of their
content: an inadequacy which is seen at once when we reflect that the
great Encyclicals which dealt with the socio-political questions of the
hour are not consulted by any non-Catholic authority on such questions.
The attack upon Socialism which runs through his writings provoked only
the smiles of his opponents and did not check the large secessions of
French, German, and Italian Catholics to Socialism. A second principal
theme was the duty of submission to authority, and the Pope's analysis
of authority, on the basis of St. Thomas, belongs to the pre-scientific
stage of sociology. A third general theme is that Catholicism made
the civilization of Europe, and that that civilization is perishing
because of its apostasy. In this argument the Pope not only gravely
misunderstood the age in which he lived, but betrayed an historical
conception of the social evolution of Europe which belongs essentially
to the more backward seminaries.[373]
The chief Encyclicals, which were at one time claimed as masterly
expositions of eternal principles, have already passed out of even
Catholic circulation. _Quod Apostolici_ (December 28, 1878) is a
vigorous attack on Socialism, on familiar lines. _Æterni Patris_
(August 4, 1879) imposed the philosophy of St. Thomas, the opportunist
character of which the Pope never perceived, on the modern Catholic
world.[374] _Arcanum_ (February 14, 1880) asserted the strict Catholic
ideal of indissoluble marriage, and had no influence on the increasing
concession of divorce. _Diuturnum_ (June 29, 1881), written after
the assassination of the Tsar, argued that these outrages naturally
followed the abandonment of the true faith; it did not include an
examination of the cruelties of the Russian authorities. _Humanum
Genus_ (April 20, 1884) condemned Freemasonry. _Immortale Dei_
(November 19, 1885) dealt, in Scholastic vein, with the constitution of
States and the foundations of authority, and is a fine exposition of
mediæval thought on the subject. _In Plurimis_ (May 8, 1888) condemned
slavery in Europe. _Libertas_ (June 20, 1888) is another Scholastic
dissertation on liberty, leading to an attack on the modern claims of
freedom of thought, worship, and expression. _Rerum Novarum_ (May 15,
1891) is the most famous of the Pope's utterances on social questions.
The organization of the Catholic workers in Italy, France, and America,
and the concern about the condition of the workers (really about the
growth of Socialism) which Bismarck and William II. had hypocritically
conveyed to the Pope, moved him to formulate his views on social
questions. The only points of relative importance are that a Pope at
last consented to bless the efforts of the workers to obtain better
conditions (with strict regard to private property and submission
to authority), and that he pleaded for a "sufficient wage"; but the
seeming boldness of this latter truism was undone a few weeks later,
when the Archbishop of Malines wrote to ask if an employer sinned
against justice in giving a wage which would support the worker but
not his family, and the Pope nervously directed Cardinal Zigliara
to reply (anonymously) that such an employer would not sin against
justice, though "possibly against charity and natural equity."[375]
_Providentissimus Deus_ (November 18, 1893), which sought to promote
biblical studies, caused Catholic scholars to groan in despair; it
proclaimed the inerrancy of the Old Testament.[376] _Apostolicæ Curæ_
(September 13, 1896) condemned Anglican orders, and led to a prolonged
controversy in England. _Graves de communi_ (January 18, 1901) shows
the later enfeeblement of the Pope's social zeal. He still approves
Christian democracy, and demands justice in the industrial world, but
he stresses alms-giving as a social solution and urges particular
concentration on religious effort.[377]
The great Pope struggled on until his ninth decade of life had opened.
He died on July 20, 1903, leaving his sternly contested inheritance to
less skilful hands, marking, with his dying eyes, the onward progress
of all the forces he had hailed as disastrous and the advance of
"Americanism" (or Modernism) within the Church. His failure must not
blind us to the greatness of his personality. He united intellectual
breadth and penetration with a high character and a lofty devotion
to his work. His weakness was the antiquated and restricted nature
of his knowledge and his inheritance of an untenable position. The
concessions he made to his age were too tardy, too grudging, and often
too obviously opportunist. With equal readiness he wrote a letter of
recommendation of a work of canon law (by Marianus de Luca) which
advocated the execution of heretics, and he blessed the republics
of France and America. But the great theme of his life was that
civilization was perishing because it had shaken off the allegiance of
Rome, and he lived to see the world "rounding onward to the light" and
departing ever farther from its old traditions.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 358: In a letter to his brother Charles, July 3, 1837, he
remarks that he has entered the clergy "in order to carry out the
wishes of his father." Catholic lives of Leo XIII., which abound, must
be read with discretion. They are even more tendentious than lives
of Pius IX., and the best of them--by Mgr. de T'Serclacs (2 vols.,
1894), L.K. Goetz (1899), J. de Narfon (1899), Mgr. B. O'Reilly (1903),
and P.J. O'Byrne (1903)--are very unreliable. Mr. Justin McCarthy's
short _Pope Leo XIII._ (1896) is a summary of these, and shares their
defects. With them should be read _Joachim Pecci_ (1900) by Henri des
Houx, for the period before his election, and _Le Conclave de Léon
XIII._ (1887) by Raphael de Cesare: both Catholic writers, but more
candid and discriminating. See also Boyer d'Agen, _La Jeunesse de Léon
XIII._ (1896) and _Monsignor Joachim Pecci_ (1910) and works to be
mentioned hereafter.]
[Footnote 359: These are chiefly reproduced in the works of Boyer
d'Agen.]
[Footnote 360: See the documents in Henri des Houx, pp. 166-7, and
Mgr. de T'Serclaes, vol. i., pp. 127-132. Most biographers grossly
misrepresent his "promotion." Rome plainly decided that he was not
suitable for a nunciature.]
[Footnote 361: His episcopal pronouncements are given in _Scelta di
Atti episcopali del Cardinale G. Pecci_ (1879).]
[Footnote 362: He was made cardinal on December 19, 1853.]
[Footnote 363: Mgr. Cataldi, whom he afterwards made his master of
ceremonies. H. des Houx (p. 329) observes that, when Cataldi died, his
papers were put under seal by Leo's orders and his letters have never
been published.]
[Footnote 364: See de Cesare, pp. 138-144.]
[Footnote 365: The losses of the Church are analyzed by the author, and
Catholic authority is quoted in most cases, in _The Decay of the Church
of Rome_ (2d ed. 1910). In France alone the loss was about 25,000,000.
His Papal pronouncements are collected in _Leonis XIII. P.M. Acta_ (17
vols., 1881-1898), _SS. D.N. Leonis XIII. allocutiones_, etc. (8 vols.,
1887-1910), and _Discorsi del Summo Pontefice Leone XIII._ (1882).]
[Footnote 366: Article "Leo XIII."]
[Footnote 367: _Contemporary Review_, 1891 (vol. lx., 161).]
[Footnote 368: See the documents relating to the episode in T'Serclaes,
i., 425.]
[Footnote 369: On the relations of Rome and the Centre compare Count
von Hoensbroech's _Rom und das Zentrum_ (1910). There are also curious
details in the same writer's _Fourteen Years a Jesuit_ (Engl. trans.
1911).]
[Footnote 370: See E. Barbier, _Le Progrès du libéralisme Catholique
en France sous le Pape Léon XIII._ (1907) and A. Houtin, _Histoire du
Modernisme Catholique_ (1913).]
[Footnote 371: See M. Tirado y Rojas, _Leon XIII. y España_ (1903), for
details in regard to Spain.]
[Footnote 372: We have on earlier pages seen that parts of the archives
are still reserved, even from ecclesiastics. On the general question
see G. Buschdell, _Das Vatikanische Archiv und die Bedeutung seiner
Erschliessung durch Papst Leo XIII._ (1903).]
[Footnote 373: An English translation of the chief Encyclicals has been
issued by Wynne in America (1902). For other work see _Poems, Charades,
Inscriptions of Leo XIII._ (1902, ed. Henry).]
[Footnote 374: The injunction was not, of course, literally obeyed. At
Louvain University, where Leo believed that he had established Thomism
in its purest form, Mgr. (now Cardinal) Mercier gave us little of
St. Thomas, and not one priest in a thousand ever opens the pages of
Aquinas. At Rome Leo set up a Thomist Academy at a cost of £12,000 to
himself.]
[Footnote 375: See Mgr. de T'Serclaes, ii., 107-111.]
[Footnote 376: I speak from personal recollection, being a professor in
a seminary at the time. Leo went on to form a Biblical Commission, of
which my liberal professor, Fr. David Fleming, became secretary. The
first decision it was his duty to sign was that Moses was the author
of the Pentateuch! For the later doubts and despair of Leo see the
very interesting details in A. Houtin's _La Question Biblique au XIX.
siècle_ (2d ed., 1902) and _La Question Biblique au XX. siècle_ (2d
ed., 1906).]
[Footnote 377: In the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ ("Leo XIII.") it is
said that the Pope in 1902 advises the workers to turn aside from
social zeal and concentrate on the interests of the Papacy. This seems
to be inaccurate. His pronouncements of that year are of the same
tenor as the Encyclical _Graves de communi_. See _Sanctissimi D.N.
Leonis XIII. Allocutiones_, etc., vol. viii., pp. 65-78 and 181-2. The
Americans have issued an English translation of the chief Encyclicals.]
LIST OF THE POPES[378]
Peter 67
Linus 67-79
Anacletus 79-90
Clement 90-99
Evaristus 99-107
Alexander I. 107-116
Sixtus I. 116-125
Telesphorus 125-136
Hyginus 136-140
Pius I. 140-154
Anicetus 154-165
Soter 165-174
Eleutherius 174-189
Victor 189-198
Zephyrinus 198-217
Callistus I. 217-222
Urban I. 222-230
Pontianus 230-235
Anterus 235-236
Fabian 236-250
Cornelius 251-253
Lucius I. 253-254
Stephen I. 254-257
Sixtus II. 257-258
Dionysius 259-268
Felix I. 269-274
Eutychian 275-283
Caius 283-296
Marcellinus 296-304
Marcellus 308-309
Eusebius 309
Melchiades 311-314
Silvester I. 314-335
Marcus 336
Julius I. 337-352
Liberius 352-366
Damasus I. 366-384
Siricius 384-398
Anastasius I. 398-401
Innocent I. 402-417
Zozimus 417-418
Boniface I. 418-422
Celestine I. 422-432
Sixtus III. 432-440
Leo I. 440-461
Hilarius 461-468
Simplicius 468-483
Felix II. 483-492
Galasius I. 492-496
Anastasius II. 496-498
Symmachus 498-514
Hormisdas 514-523
John I. 523-526
Felix III. 526-530
Boniface II. 530-532
John II. 533-535
Agapetus I. 535-536
Silverius 536-538
Vigilius 538-555
Pelagius I. 556-561
John III. 561-574
Benedict I. 575-579
Pelagius II. 579-590
Gregory I. 590-604
Sabinianus 604-606
Boniface III. 607
Boniface IV. 608-615
Deusdedit 615-618
Boniface V. 619-625
Honorius I. 625-638
Severinus 638-640
John IV. 640-642
Theodore I. 642-649
Martin I. 649-655
Eugene I. 654-657
Vitalian 657-672
Adeodatus 672-676
Donus 676-678
Agatho 678-681
Leo II. 682-683
Benedict II. 684-685
John V. 685-686
Conon 686-687
Sergius I. 687-701
John VI. 701-705
John VII. 705-707
Sisinnius 708
Constantine 708-715
Gregory II. 715-731
Gregory III. 731-741
Zachary 741-752
Stephen II. 752
Stephen II. (III.) 752-757
Paul I. 757-767
Stephen III. (IV.) 768-772
Hadrian I. 772-795
Leo III. 795-816
Stephen IV. (V.) 816-817
Paschal I. 817-824
Eugene II. 824-827
Valentine 827
Gregory IV. 827-844
Sergius II. 844-847
Leo IV. 847-855
Benedict III. 855-858
Nicholas I. 858-867
Hadrian II. 867-872
John VIII. 872-882
Marinus I. (or Martin II.) 882-884
Hadrian III. 884-885
Stephen V. (VI.) 885-891
Formosus 891-896
Boniface VI. 896
Stephen VI. (VII.) 896-897
Romanus 897
Theodore II. 897
John IX. 898-900
Benedict IV. 900-903
Leo V. 903
Christopher 903-904
Sergius III. 904-911
Anastasius III. 911-913
Lando 913-914
John X. 914-928
Leo VI. 928
Stephen VII. (VIII.) 928-931
John XI. 931-936
Leo VII. 936-939
Stephen VIII. (IX.) 939-942
Marinus II. (Martin III.) 942-946
Agapetus II. 946-955
John XII. 955-964
Leo VIII. 963-965
Benedict V. 964-965
John XIII. 965-972
Benedict VI. 973-974
Benedict VII. 974-983
John XIV. 983-984
Boniface VII. 984-985
John XV. 985-986
Gregory V. 986-996
John XVI. 997-998
Silvester II. 999-1003
John XVII. 1003
John XVIII. 1003-1009
Sergius IV. 1009-1012
Benedict VIII. 1012-1024
John XIX. 1024-1032
Benedict IX. 1032-1045
Gregory VI. 1045-1046
Clement II. 1046-1047
Damasus II. 1048
Leo IX. 1049-1054
Victor II. 1055-1057
Stephen IX. (X.) 1057-1058
Benedict X. 1058-1059
Nicholas II. 1059-1061
Alexander II. 1061-1073
Gregory VII. 1073-1085
Victor III. 1087
Urban II. 1088-1099
Paschal II. 1099-1118
Gelasius II. 1118-1119
Callistus II. 1119-1124
Honorius II. 1124-1130
Innocent II. 1130-1143
Celestine II. 1143-1144
Lucius II. 1144-1145
Eugene III. 1145-1153
Anastasius IV. 1153-1154
Hadrian IV. 1154-1159
Alexander III. 1159-1181
Lucius III. 1181-1185
Urban III. 1185-1187
Gregory VIII. 1187
Clement III. 1187-1191
Celestine III. 1191-1198
Innocent III. 1198-1216
Honorius III. 1216-1227
Gregory IX. 1227-1241
Celestine IV. 1241
Innocent IV. 1243-1254
Alexander IV. 1254-1261
Urban IV. 1261-1264
Clement IV. 1265-1268
Gregory X. 1271-1276
Innocent V. 1276
Hadrian V. 1276
John XXI.[379] 1276-1277
Nicholas III. 1277-1280
Martin IV. 1281-1285
Honorius IV. 1285-1287
Nicholas IV. 1288-1292
Celestine V. 1294
Boniface VIII. 1294-1303
Benedict XI. 1303-1304
Clement V. 1305-1314
John XXII. 1316-1334
Benedict XII. 1334-1342
Clement VI. 1342-1352
Innocent VI. 1352-1362
Urban V. 1362-1370
Gregory XI. 1370-1378
Urban VI. 1378-1389
[Clement VII. 1378-1394]
Boniface IX. 1389-1404
[Benedict XIII. 1394-1424]
Innocent VII. 1404-1406
Gregory XII. 1406-1415
Alexander V. 1409-1410
John XXIII. 1410-1415
Martin V. 1417-1431
Eugene IV. 1431-1447
Nicholas V. 1447-1455
Callistus III. 1455-1458
Pius II. 1458-1464
Paul II. 1464-1471
Sixtus IV. 1471-1484
Innocent VIII. 1484-1492
Alexander VI. 1492-1503
Pius III. 1503
Julius II. 1503-1513
Leo X. 1513-1521
Hadrian VI. 1522-1523
Clement VII. 1523-1534
Paul III. 1534-1549
Julius III. 1550-1555
Marcellus II. 1555
Paul IV. 1555-1559
Pius IV. 1559-1565
Pius V. 1566-1572
Gregory XIII. 1572-1585
Sixtus V. 1585-1590
Urban VII. 1590
Gregory XIV. 1590-1591
Innocent IX. 1591
Clement VIII. 1592-1605
Leo XI. 1605
Paul V. 1605-1621
Gregory XV. 1621-1623
Urban VIII. 1623-1644
Innocent X. 1644-1655
Alexander VII. 1655-1667
Clement IX. 1667-1669
Clement X. 1670-1676
Innocent XI. 1676-1689
Alexander VIII. 1689-1691
Innocent XII. 1691-1700
Clement XI. 1700-1721
Innocent XIII. 1721-1724
Benedict XIII. 1724-1730
Clement XII. 1730-1740
Benedict XIV. 1740-1758
Clement XIII. 1758-1769
Clement XIV. 1769-1774
Pius VI. 1775-1799
Pius VII. 1800-1823
Leo XII. 1823-1829
Pius VIII. 1829-1830
Gregory XVI. 1831-1846
Pius IX. 1846-1878
Leo XIII. 1878-1903
Pius X. 1903-1914
Benedict XV. 1914-
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 378: I include Peter, as is usual, though it must be recalled
that no writer calls him "bishop" of Rome until the third century, and
it cannot be regarded as _proved_ that he ever visited Rome. The date
of his death, and the succeeding dates until the third century, and
many later, are conjectural and disputed.]
[Footnote 379: On account of some confusion in mediæval chronicles, a
spurious "John XV." was inserted in the list of Popes. Hence John XXI.
was really John XX., but the names of the later Popes are so fixed that
it seems better, as is usually the case, to skip from John XIX. to John
XX.]
INDEX
A
Accolti, Cardinal, 317
Acquaviva, Cardinal, 356, 357
Acquaviva, General, 344
_Acta S. Callisti_, 7, 17
_Acta S. Silvestri_, 87, 88
_Ad Anglos_, 435
Adelchis, 93
Adelperga, 94
Adriano da Corneto, 263
Æneas, Sylvius, 241, 243
_Æterni Patris_, 408, 440
Afiarta, Paul, 83, 84
African Church, Rome and the, 20, 40, 70
Agnes, the Empress, 145, 147, 150
Agnes de Meran, 188
Aistulph, 80-3
Albani, Cardinal, 357, 392
Alberic of Camerino, 131, 133, 139
Albert of Brandenburg, 304
Albigensians, massacre of the, 194-200
Alcuin, 78, 97
Alexander, II., 147, 149
Alexander, III., 173
Alexander V., 228
Alexander VI., 242-66
Alexander Severus, 16
Alexis, Comnenus, 193
Alfonso of Leon, 157
Alfonso II. of Naples, 254, 256, 259
Alidosi, Cardinal, 278
Allen, Cardinal, 246
Altheim, Synod of, 138
Ambrose, St., 30, 31, 35, 38
America, the Papacy and, 389, 411, 412, 436
Americanism, 432, 437
Ammianus Marcellinus, 24
Anastasius, 75, 102
Anatolius of Thessalonica, 41
Anselm of Baggio, 145
Anselm of Lucca, 147, 150, 152
_Antiphonary_, the, 62
Antonelli, Cardinal, 402-3, 407, 410
_Apostolicæ Curæ_, 436
Aretini, 275
Ariald, 145
Arianism, 19, 21, 31
Arichis, 92, 93, 94
Ariosto, 281, 301, 302
Arnold of Brescia, 174
Arnold of Citeaux, 195, 198, 199
Arnulph, 127
Arsenius, Legate, 109, 112, 126
Art in mediæval Rome, 266, 282-4
Astrology at Rome, 274
Attila, 50-1
Atto of Vercelli, 133
Austria expelled from Italy, 399, 405
Auxentius, 28, 37
Auxilius, 129
Avignon, the Popes at, 203-22
B
Baglione, G., 274
Bajazet, the Sultan, 256
Baldwin of Flanders, 110, 192
Baluze, S., 205
Barbarossa, Frederic, 173
Barry, Dr. W., 129
Basil, St., 32
Basilica Julii, 24, 25
Basilica Liberii, 25
Basilica Sicinini, 25
Basle, Council of, 240
Beatific Vision, John XXII. and the, 219
Beatrice of Tuscany, 148, 163
Benedict III., 103, 107, 113
Benedict IX., 140, 143
Benedict X., 146
Benedict XI., 203
Benedict XIII., 227, 238
Benedict XIV., 353-67
Benedict of Soracte, 128, 130, 135
Benedictines, the, and the classics, 58
Bentivoglio, 274, 278
Benzo, Bishop, 142, 147
Berengar, King, 130, 134
Berengaria of Castile, 189
Bérenger, 144
Bernard, of Clairvaux, 172
Bernetti, Cardinal, 395
Bertha of Lorraine, 134
_Bertinian Annals_, the, 112
Bertrand de Goth, 207
Bertrand de Poyet, 216
Bibbiena, Cardinal, 287, 290, 303
Bible, early translation of the, 36
Bismarck and Leo XIII., 428-30
Bonaparte, Jerome, 379
Boniface I., 39
Boniface VIII., 203, 209
Boniface IX., 223, 224
Bonitho, Bishop, 142, 151, 164, 168
_Book of Gomorrha_, 144
_Book of Pastoral Rule_, 61
Borgia, Cæsar, 244, 258, 260, 263, 267, 272
Borgia, Jofre, 244, 256
Borgia, Juan, 244, 256, 258
Borgia, Lucretia, 244, 250, 254, 255, 260, 262
Borgia, Pedro Luis, 244
Borgia, Rodrigo, 261
Borgia Family, the, 242
Borgia Rooms, the, 438
Boris, King, 116
Bramante, 283
Breviary, reform of the, 358-9
Brosch, M., 246, 269
Brosses, President de, 353, 354
Bruce, Robert, 219
Brunetti, A., 398
Brunichildis, Gregory and, 71
Brussels, Leo XIII. at, 418-9
Bulgaria and the Papacy, 137, 191
Buoncompagni, Cardinal, 333, 334
Burchard, J., 245, 249, 262
C
Cacault, 374
Cadalus, Bishop, 147
Cajetan, Legate, 307
_Calandria_, the, 303
Calixtus III., 242
Callistus, Pope, 6-18
Cambrai, League of, 276, 277
Canon of Scripture, early, 36, 55
Canossa, Henry IV. at, 163, 165-7
Capocci, Giovanni, 176, 177
Caprara, Cardinal, 376
Caraffa, Cardinal, 259
Carbonari, the, 388, 395
Cardinal, the title, 146
Cardinalate, reform of the, 339
Cardinals in the fifteenth century, 248
Carlism, the Vatican, 433
Carlomann, 84
_Caroline Books_, the, 97
Caroline Islands, the, 429
Carpophorus, 8
Carvajal, Cardinal, 275, 289
Cassiodorus, 58
Catacombs, the, 3, 26, 36
Cataldi, Mgr., 421
Cathari, the, 182
Catherine of Siena, 222
Cavour, 405, 406
Celestine I., 39
Celestine III., 174
Celibacy of the clergy, 145-6, 152, 155
Celidonius, 42
Cenci, 160
Censorship, early claims of, 55, 115
Cesena, massacre of, 222
Chabrol, Count de, 384
Chalcedon, Council of, 47-9, 74
Charlemagne, 84, 85-6, 90-97, 99, 101
Charles Martel, 79
Charles the Bald, 108, 109, 115, 116
Charles the Simple, 137
Charles II., 206
Charles V., 295, 297, 298, 307, 319-28
Charles VI., 362
Charles VIII., 256-8
Chigi, the banker, 302
China, Jesuits in, 364
China, Leo XIII., and, 457
Choiseul, 357, 360
Christianity, early condition of, 1-3
Christopher, Pope, 128
Cibò, Franceschetto, 248
Cibò, Innocenzo, 290
_Civiltà Cattolica_, the, 406
Clement I., 4, 5
Clement III., 169, 173
Clement IV., 209
Clement V., 203, 206, 217
Clement VI., 209, 221
Clement VII., 223, 311-2
Clement XI., 360
Clement XII., 354, 355, 357
Clement XIII., 368
Clement XIV., 368, 369
Colonna, M.A., 294
_Commentary on the First Book of Kings_, 63
Comminges, Count de, 190
Conciliar Movement, the, 227, 232, 240
Concordat with Napoleon, 374-6, 387
Conradin, 202
Consalvi, Cardinal, 371, 372, 375, 377, 387-9
Constance, Council of, 234-8, 240
Constance of Sicily, 180
Constantine, 21
Constantinople, Council of, 32, 33, 48, 49
Constantinople, Fall of, 241
Constantinople taken by the Latins, 193, 194
Constantius, 19, 23
Constanza of Aragon, 181
Contarini, Cardinal, 322
Conti family, the, 173
Conti, Ricardo, 177
Cornaro, Cardinal 302
Cornelius, Pope, 3
Costa, Cardinal, 259
Counter-Reformation, the, 310
Crespy, Peace of, 325
Crispi, 426
Crusade, the Fourth, 191-4
Culture, early decay of, 57, 62-3, 84
Cyprian, St., 20
Cyriacus, 75
Cyril of Alexandria, 39, 44
D
D'Agnesi, Maria Gaetana, 358
Damasus, 21-37
D'Amboise, Cardinal, 268, 275
Damiani, Peter, 144, 145, 147, 151
Dammann, Dr. A., 165
Declaration of the Gallican Clergy, 352
Delarc, O., 142
Desiderius of Vienne, 62, 71
Deusdedit, Cardinal, 151
_Dialogues_ of Gregory the Great, 59
Didier, Abbot, 149, 153, 169
Didier, King, 83-5, 90
Dietrich von Nieheim, 223, 225
Dio Cassius, 16
Dionysian Decretals, the, 120
Dioscorus of Alexandria, 44-6
Discipline of the early Church, 13
Divorce in the early Church, 29
Djem, Prince, 256, 257
Döllinger, Dr., 3, 8, 9, 13, 151, 409
Dominic St., 196, 201
_Dominus ac Redemptor Noster_, 369
Donation of Constantine, 87, 241
Dovizo, Bernardo, 287, 290
Duchesne, Mgr., 89, 130, 131
Dümmler, E., 129
Dupanloup, 409
E
Eastern Church, Rome and the, 31-3, 44-50, 73-6, 105-6
Ebbo of Rheims, 113, 119
Edict of Milan, 21
Eginhard, 82, 99
Elizabeth of Spain, 363
Encyclicals of Leo XIII., 439, 440
Endre, Prince, of Hungary, 190
England and the Papacy, 58, 71, 94, 148, 185-8, 219, 229, 309, 312, 346,
363, 381, 411, 435-6
Ephesus, Council of, 46
_Epigrams of Damasus_, 36
Erigena, John Scotus, 115
Ethelbert, 72
_Etsi Nos_, 425
Eudocia, 105
Eudoxia, the Empress, 52
Eugenius IV., 240
Eulogius, 75
Eusebius, Pope, 20
Eusebius of Dorylæum, 48
Eustochium, Jerome's letter to, 34-5
Eutyches, 45, 46
_Ex Quo Singulari_, 365
_Execrabilis_, 210
_Exsurge, Domine_, 308
F
Fantuzzian Fragment, the, 81, 88
Farnese, Alessandro, 316, 321, 325, 326
Farnese, Giulia, 249, 252, 253, 254
Farnese, Vittoria, 325
Febronianism, 362, 370
Fedele, P., 129
Felicia, daughter of Julius II., 271
Felix, Anti-Pope, 23, 24
Ferdinand of Spain, 275, 276, 291
Ferdinand VI., 361
Ferrante of Naples, 255
Ferrara and Julius II., 281
Fesch, Cardinal, 378
Flavian, 45-7
Flodoard, 131, 136
Fontana, 345
_Forged Decretals_, the, 104, 105, 117-22
Forgeries of Middle Ages, 87, 88
Formosus, 125, 127, 132
Foulques of Marseilles, 196, 198
France and the Papacy, 42, 71, 79-87, 97, 157, 188, 194-200, 219, 256-8,
276-8, 289, 304, 347, 360-1, 400-2, 431-2
France, Anatole, 2
Francis I., 292, 293, 295, 297, 317
Francis, St., 201, 202
Francis Joseph I., 412
Frankenstein, Baron, 429
Frankfort, Synod of, 97
Fratricelli, the, 214
Frederic the Great, 356, 364
Frederic of Saxony, 307, 308
Frederic of Sicily, 180, 182, 185
Freemasonry, Benedict XIV. and, 366
Friedrich of Tirol, 234, 236, 237
Fuscianus, 9
G
Gabrielli, Cardinal, 382
Gaeta, flight to, 401
Galilei, Galileo, 352
Galla Placidia, 47
Garibaldi, 405, 406, 407
Gattina, Petrucelli della, 371, 393
"Gelasian Decree," the, 36, 37, 55
Gelasius I., 37, 55, 115
Gerbert, 139
Germany and the Papacy, 108-9, 158-69, 182-5, 215-8, 229, 411, 427-30
Gfrörer, 142
Ghibellines, the, 182, 216
Gibbon, Cardinal, 436, 437
Gioberti, 397, 418, 420
Giovio, Paolo, 291, 300
Gizzo, Cardinal, 399
Glaber, Raoul, 140
Godfrey of Tuscany 148
Grassis, P. de, 291
Gratian, the Emperor, 27, 38
Gratian, John, 140, 143
Great Schism, the, 221-3
Gregory I., 57-77
Gregory III., 79
Gregory VII., 141-70
Gregory X., 204
Gregory XI., 222
Gregory XII., 226, 227, 231
Gregory XIII., 332, 334
Gregory XVI., 392, 395, 396
Grévy, President, 432
Grisar, Father, 11, 18
Guelphs, the, 182
Guibert of Ravenna, 168
Guido of Spoleto, 127
Guiscard, Robert, 148, 155, 168, 169
Guise, Duke of, 347, 348, 349
Günther, 108, 109
Guy, the Cistercian, 195
H
Hadrian I., 81, 83, 84-100
Hadrian II., 110, 118, 125, 126, 127
Hadrian IV., 174
Hadrian VI., 311
Hecker, Father, 437
Helletrude, 111
Henry III. (Germany), 143, 144
Henry IV. (Germany), 154, 158-69
Henry V. (Germany), 172
Henry VI. (Germany), 178, 179
Henry III. (France), 346, 347, 349
Henry IV. (France), 347, 348, 349, 350
Henry VIII. (England), 277, 279, 292, 293, 294, 309
Heribert of Vermandois, 137, 138
Herimann of Cologne, 138
Herlembald, 148, 159
Hermingard, 84
Hilary, St., and the Papacy, 42
Hildebrand. _See_ Gregory VII.
Hildeprand, 92, 93
Hildwin, 112
Hincmar of Rheims, 105, 111-13, 119, 120
Hippolytus, 7, 8, 11, 12, 17
_Historia Augusta_, the, 16
Hodgkin, Dr., 88, 90
Hohenstauffens, the, 182, 202
Honorius I., 79
Hontheim, Johann von, 370
Hormisdas, 55
Hrodgaud, 93
Hrzan, Cardinal, 372
Hübner, Baron de, 333, 343
Hucbert, 107
Hugh Candidus, Cardinal, 149, 159
Hugh of Provence, 138, 139
Hugues Géraud, 211, 212
Hungarians in Italy, the, 135
Huns, St. Leo and the, 50
Hus, John, 232, 235, 238
Hutten, Ulrich von, 305, 308
I
Ignatius of Antioch, 4
Ignatius of Constantinople, 105-7
Ignatius of Loyola, 331, 333
Image-worship, quarrel about, 97
Immaculate Conception, the, 403-4
Index of Prohibited Books, the first, 55
Indulgences, origin of the Spanish, 192
Indulgences, traffic in, 225, 231, 284, 301, 305
Infallibility, struggle over, 409-10
Infessura, S., 245, 250
Ingeltrude, 107
Innocent I., 38, 39
Innocent III., 137, 141, 171-201
Innocent VII., 226
Inquisition, the, at Rome, 324, 331
_Inscrutabile_, 423
_Interest Apostolicæ Sedis_, 183
Investiture-struggle, the, 152, 172
Ireland, Archbishop, 436
Ireland, Leo XIII. and, 434-5
Irene, the Empress, 94, 96
Irmengard, 135
Isaac Comnenus, 193
Italy, Unification of, 405-7
J
Jacobini, Cardinal, 426
Jacques de Via, 213
James III., 363
Jansenists, the, 360-1
Jean of Jandun, 215
Jerome, St., 22, 23, 27, 34, 36
Jerome of Prague, 232
Jesuits, the, 343, 352, 360, 364, 365, 369, 387-8, 399, 402-3
Jews, John XXII. and the, 219
Jews, the Papacy and the, 65
Jews, Sixtus V. and the, 343
John VIII., 125, 126, 133
John IX., 131
John X., 126-38
John XI., 128, 130, 131, 138
John XII., 139
John XXII., 205-20
John XXIII., 221-39
John of Bohemia, 218
John Capistrano, 241
John the Faster, 73-4
John Lackland and the Papacy, 185-8
John of Ravenna, 114
Joseph II., 355, 369, 370
Josephine, divorce of, 378, 383
Judith, 110
Julius II., 246, 247, 250, 255, 257, 268-84
Julius III., 331
K
Kailo of Ravenna, 132
Keane, Mgr., 437
Kitto, E.J., 223, 235
Knights of Labour, the, 436
Kulturkampf, the, 427-30
L
La Balue, Cardinal, 248
Ladislaus of Hungary, 157
Ladislaus of Naples, 223, 227
Lambert of Hersfeld, 164, 166
Lambruschini, Cardinal, 392
Landulph, 145
Lanfranc, 154, 156
Langton, Stephen, 186-7, 188
Languedoc, heresy in, 195
Lateran basilica, the, 20, 25, 56
Lateran Council, the Fourth, 200
Lateran Council, the Fifth, 280, 282, 303
League, the Catholic, 347, 348
Leo I., 39-54
Leo II., 79
Leo III., 101
Leo IV., 102
Leo V., 127
Leo IX., 144
Leo X., 248, 250, 287-309
Leo XII., 391
Leo XIII., 415-42
Leo the Isaurian, 53
Leonardo of Arezzo, 223, 227
Leonetti, A., 243
Leontia, the Empress, 76
L'Épinois, H. de, 243, 245
Leti, Gregorio, 333
_Liber Pontificalis_, the, 8, 11, 24, 80, 87-9
Liberius, 19, 22, 23
Liverani, P., 129, 132
Lollards, the, 232
Lombards, the, in Italy, 56, 66, 68, 79, 92-3
Lothair of Lorraine, 107, 109, 110
Lottery, the Papal, 357
Louis of Anjou, 228, 229, 230
Louis of Bavaria, 215, 216, 217
Louis II., 103, 107-9
Louis VIII., 188
Louis XII., 260, 261, 274, 277-8, 291
Louis XVIII., 414
Luchaire, Achille, 175
Luciferians, the, 30
Luitprand, Bishop, 130, 132, 136
Luitprand, King, 79
Lunéville, Treaty of, 374
Luther, Martin, 252, 299, 306-9
M
Macarius, 30
Magic, John XXII. and, 212
Magna Charta denounced by Innocent III., 188
_Magna Maralia_, 59, 63
Malabar Rites, the, 364
Malatesta of Rimini, 230
_Mandragola_, 303
Manfred, 202
Manichæans, the, 41, 43
Manichæism, 195
Manning, Cardinal, 409
Marcia, 6
Marcian, 47, 50
Maria Theresa, 362
Marie of Brabant, 190
Markwald of Anweiler, 179, 180, 181
Marozia, 128-32, 135-6, 138, 139
Marriage, the Papacy and, 188, 189, 190
Marsiglio of Padua, 215
Martens, Dr. W., 142, 160
Martin I., 79
Martin V., 240
Martyrology, reform of the, 359
Mary Stuart, 346
Mathew, Dr., A.H., 142, 153, 167, 243
Mathilda of Tuscany, 148, 150, 155, 163, 165
Matteo Visconti, 216
Maurice, the Emperor, 68, 69, 73-6
Maury, Cardinal, 371
Maximilian, the Emperor, 273, 275, 276, 277, 294
Maximinus, 27
May Laws, the, 428, 429
Mazzini, 396, 398, 404
Medici, Catherine de', 347
Medici, Cosmo de', 239
Medici, Giuliano de', 290, 292
Medici, Giulio de', 290
Medici, Lorenzo de' (nephew of Leo X.), 290, 297, 298
Melchiades, 118
_Menæchmi_, the, 262
Mercier, Cardinal, 440
Michael, Angelo, 283, 301, 329
Michael de Cesena, 215
Michael the Drunkard, 105, 106
Michiel, Cardinal, 263
Militz, Karl von, 307
Milo, the Legate, 198
Miollis, General, 381
Mirandola, G.P. della, 304
Modernism, 432, 437, 442
Montfort, Simon de, 199, 200
Monti di Pietà, 303
Morality in the early Church, 33-5, 66
N
Napoleon I. and the Papacy, 370, 374-88
Napoleon III., 400, 405
Nepotism at the Vatican, 174, 244-60, 271, 290, 291, 315, 316, 320, 331
Newman, Cardinal, 409
Nicæa, Council of, 96
Nicholas I., 102-23
Nicholas II., 146, 147
Nicholas V., 217, 241
Nicholas of Cusa, 241
Nielsen, Dr. F., 373, 393
Normans and the Papacy, 145, 147, 169
O
Ockham, William of, 215
Offa, 94, 96
Olivarez, Count, 347
Organic Articles, the, 376, 377
Orsini, the, 174, 177
Orsini, Adriana, 249, 252
Orsini, Cardinal B., 263
Orsini, Giulia, 249, 252, 253, 254
Orsini, Laura, 253, 271
Orsini, Paolo, 334
Orsini, Virginio, 255
Otto I., 139
Otto of Brunswick, 182, 183, 184
Oxford Movement, the, 435
P
Pacca, Cardinal, 381-2, 387
Pagi, 129
Pallavicino, Cardinal, 275
Pandolpho, the Legate, 187, 188
Papal supremacy, evolution of, 5, 30-1, 37, 39, 44, 48, 53, 67, 74-6, 103
Parnellism 434-5
Paschasinus, 49
_Pastor Æternus_, 410
Pastoureaux, the, 219
Patarenes, the, 145, 148, 159
Patrimonies, the Papal, 64, 79
Paul at Rome, 4
Paul I., 83
Paul II., 246
Paul III., 252, 313-29, 363
Paul IV., 331
Pedro of Aragon, 190, 199
Pelagius, Pope, 58
Pepoli, Count, 338
Peretti, Alexander, 336
Peretti, Camilla, 334, 341
Peretti, Francesco, 334
Persecution, the Papacy and, 43, 70, 196
Persico, Mgr., 435
Perugino, 283
Peter at Rome, 4
Peter, brother of John X., 135
Peter of Carbara, 217
Petrarch, 211, 216
Petrucci, Cardinal, 295
Philip II., 186, 187, 188, 198
Philip III., 203, 207
Philip VI., 217, 220
Philip of Anjou, 202
Philip Neri, St., 333
Philip of Suabia, 179, 182-4
Phocas, the Emperor, 76
Photius, 105, 106
Pierleone, Cardinal, 183
Pierleone, Giovanni, 176, 177
Pierre de Castelnau, 195, 197
Pignatelli, Cardinal, 387
Pinturicchio, 266, 283
Pippin, Donation of, 80-3
Pirie-Gordon, C.H.C., 175
Pisa, Council of, 228, 229
Pisa, second Council of, 278, 279
Pius II., 243
Pius III., 268
Pius IV., 331
Pius V., 332, 334
Pius VI., 369, 372
Pius VII., 371-90
Pius VIII., 392
Pius IX., 393-413, 425
Plebiscites in Italy, 405, 406, 408
Pliny, 2
Poles, the Vatican, the, 434
Poli, Oddo, 177
Pontianus, 18
Pragmatic Sanction, the, 286, 294, 304
Primacy, idea of the, 6, 30, 37, 39, 40, 48
Priscillianists, the, 31
Pucci, Lorenzo, 290
Pulcheria, 46, 47
Q
_Quanta Cura_, 407
Quiercey Donation, the, 81
R
Rampolla, Cardinal, 426, 429
Raphael, 301
Ratherius, Bishop, 133
Ratisbon, Diet of, 322
Ravenna and the Papacy, 67, 68
Raymond of Toulouse, 196-9
Raynaldus, 243
Reformation, the, 286, 304-9, 312, 317-30
Reformation, foregleams of the, 215, 232, 241, 286
Reginald of Canterbury, 186
Renaissance, the, 241
Renier, the Cistercian, 195
_Rerum Novarum_, 441
Revolution, the French, 370, 372
Riario, Cardinal, 296
Riario, Pietro, 246
Richard the Lion-Heart, 185
Robert of Geneva, 222, 223
Robert of Naples, 216, 217
Romwald, 94-5
Roquain, F., 142, 151
Roscoe, W., 291
Rosmini, A., 400, 402
Rossi, G.B. de, 8, 9, 13
Rossi, Pellegrino, 400
Rothrad of Soissons, 111-12, 119
Rotrud, 96
Roy, Jules, 120, 121
Rudolph II., of Burgundy, 134
Rudolph of Suabia, 159, 163, 165, 167, 168
S
Sabellius, 12
_Sacramentary_, the, 62
St. Bartholomew, Massacre of, 332
Sta. Maria Maggiore, 25
St. Peter's, building of, 274, 283
Sala, Cardinal, 417
Saldanha, Cardinal, 365
Sancho of Portugal, 190
Sanfedisti, the, 388, 396
Sangallo, 329
Sanseverino, Cardinal, 289
Sant' Angelo, Castle of, 60
Sanuto, M., 253, 291
Satolli, Mgr., 437
Sauli, Cardinal, 296
Savona, Pius VII. at, 383-5
Savonarola and Alexander VI., 264-5
Scatfgoch, Bishop, 364
Schmalkaldic League, the, 327, 328
Schwemer, R., 185
Sergius III., 125, 127, 128, 129, 131
Sergius IV., 139
Servatus Lupus, 118
Severus, Bishop, 68
Sforza, Cardinal Ascanio, 248, 250
Sforza, Giovanni, 254, 259
Sforza, Lodovico, 255, 258
Sigismund of Hungary, 229-30, 232-8
Silvester I., 20
Silvester II., 139, 143, 157
Simeon of Bulgaria, 137
Simony at Rome, 210, 224-5, 250, 268, 301
Sirianus, Pope, 37
Sixtus III., 39
Sixtus IV., 244, 246
Sixtus V., 332-50
Slaves, the Papacy and the, 65
Socialism and the Vatican, 424, 427, 428, 431, 441
_Sollicitudo Omnium_, 388
Solomon of Brittany, 119
Solomon of Hungary, 157
Spain and the Papacy, 70, 154, 157, 189-90, 260, 347-9, 361
Spina, Archbishop, 374
Spirituals, the, 214
Stephen I., 80
Stephen II., 80-2
Stephen III., 83
Stephen IV., 83
Stephen V., 101
Stephen VI., 125, 126, 127
Stephen X., 145, 146
Stephens, W.R.W., 142
Strozzi, the banker, 302
Stuarts, the Vatican and the, 363
Sulpicius Severus, 31
Syagrius, Bishop, 71
Syllabus, the, 407
T
Talleyrand, 376, 380
Talleyrand-Périgord, Countess, 204
Talmud, condemnation of the, 219
Tancred of Sicily, 181
Tarasius, 96
Tassilo, 93
Tedald, 160
Templars, suppression of the, 203
Temporal power, beginning of the, 78-83, 86-90, 95
Tencin, Cardinal, 354, 355
Tertullian, 5, 13
Tetzel, 306
Teutonic Knights, the, 219
Theodora of Rome, 128, 129-32
Theodora, the Empress, 56
Theodoric, 55
Theodosius, 32, 33
Theophylactus, 128, 132
Theutberga, 107, 110
Thomas Aquinas, philosophy of, 440
Three Chapters, the, 67
Transtiberina, the, 1, 16
Trent, Council of, 323-8, 330, 331-2
Troslé, Council of, 133
Turribius of Astorga, 43
U
_Unigenitus_, 360
Urban I., 11, 18
Urban II., 172
Urban VI., 222
Urban VIII., 352
Urbino, Duchy of, 294, 295, 298
Ursicinus, Anti-Pope, 25-7
V
Valens, 31
Valenti, Cardinal, 357
Valentinian I., 27, 29, 37
Valentinian II., 38
Valla, Lorenzo, 241
Vandals, Leo and the, 51-2
Vannozza dei Catanei, 245
Vatican, the, 178
Vatican Council, the, 408-10
Vatican, early state of the, 1, 2
Vatican Library, the, 438
Venantius and Gregory the Great, 72
Venice and the Papacy, 272-3, 275-6
Ventura, P., 397
Victor I., 5, 9
Victor III., 140
Victor Emmanuel I., 406
Vienna Congress, the, 388
Villani, 208
Viventius, 25, 27
Voltaire, 356
Vulgarius, 129, 130
W
Waldeck-Rousseau, 432
Waldrada, 107, 109, 110
Walpole, Horace, 356
Walter de Brienne, 181
Wenilo of Sens, 118
William II. and the Papacy, 430
William of Burgundy, 156
William the Conqueror, 148, 156
Wiseman, Cardinal, 379
Worms, Diet of, 308
Wulfad, 113
Wyclif, 232
X
Ximenes, Cardinal, 301
Y
York, Cardinal, 363
Young Italians, the, 395, 396
Z
Zachary I., 79, 80
Zara, the taking of, 192, 193
Zelanti, the, 388
Zephyrin, Pope, 6, 10
Zigliara, Cardinal, 441
Zosimus, 39
The Censorship _of_ the Church _of_ Rome and its Influence upon the
Production and the Distribution _of_ Literature
_A Study of the History of the Prohibitory and Expurgatory Indexes,
together with some Consideration of the effects of Protestant
Censorship and of Censorship by the State_
By GEO. HAVEN PUTNAM, LITT.D.
_Author of "Authors and Their Public in Ancient Times," "Books and
Their Makers in the Middle Ages," "The Question of Copyright," etc._
Two Volumes, 8vo, cloth Net, $5.00
This treatise presents a schedule of the Indexes issued by the Church,
together with a list of the more important of the decrees, edicts,
prohibitions, and briefs having to do with the prohibition of specific
books, from the time of Gelasius I., 567 A.D., to the issue in 1900 of
the latest Index of the Church under Leo XIII.
"The work impresses me as admirable. I wish to congratulate you upon
the singular wisdom, breadth, and thoroughness with which you have
accomplished a delicate and difficult task."--_From Bishop Potter of
New York._
"I have read this treatise with the deepest pleasure.... It is a work
of remarkable erudition, and so far as I have perused its pages, I
find it to have been written with rare large-mindedness and historic
impartiality.... The difficult task has been accomplished in a most
masterly manner."--_From Archbishop Ireland of St. Paul._
"Dr. Putnam is one of the most wonderful men in America. He was a
soldier in the Civil War. He has been a leading publisher for more
than a generation. To him more than any other man is due the measure
of American Copyright that we now enjoy. The marvel is that with
all his business and public work, Dr. Putnam has found time to make
himself a most thorough and accurate scholar. The present volume
treats of a subject that is largely misunderstood, and that is of
first importance in the history of literature and of the Church.
The author writes in an entirely dispassionate spirit."--_London
Chronicle._
_Send for Descriptive Circular_
G.P. Putnam's Sons
NEW YORK LONDON
A Candid History of the Jesuits
By Joseph McCabe
Author of "Twelve Years in a Monastery," "Modern Rationalism"
_8o. $3.50_
It is curious that no writer addressing English-speaking readers,
has ever attempted a systematic history of the Jesuits. Probably
no religious body ever had so romantic a history, or inspired such
deadly hatred. On the other hand, histories of the famous society are
almost always too prejudiced, either for or against, to be reliable.
Mr. McCabe has attempted in this book to give the facts impartially,
and to enable the inquirer to form an intelligent idea of the history
and character of the Jesuits from their foundation to the present
day. Every phase of their remarkable story--including the activity
of political Jesuits and their singular behavior on the foreign
missions--is carefully studied, and the record of the Jesuits in
England is very fully examined.
G.P. Putnam's Sons
New York London
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