CHAPTER II. “THE NIGHT OF THE PAPACY”--CHARLEMAGNE TO OTTO THE GREAT

[Sidenote: [740-985 A.D.]]

From the East, powerless to render help, from an empire crumbling away beneath the weight of its own greatness, Gregory III therefore turned away, and fixed his gaze on the youthful greatness of a transalpine nation--the Franks--brave, adventurous, full of promise, successful in warfare, and destined to rise to future power. With Charles Martel, mayor of the palace, and virtual ruler of the Frankish realm, Gregory II had already opened communications. To Charles Martel, his successor Gregory III again appealed, when, after eight years of doubtful peace, he suddenly found himself involved in an open war with the Lombards. His appeal is truly touching: “His tears are falling night and day for the destitute state of the church; the Lombard king and his son are ravaging the last remains of the property of the church, which no longer suffices for the sustenance of the poor, or to provide lights for the daily service; they have invaded the territory of Rome and seized all his farms; his only hope is in the timely succour of the Frankish king.” The appeal was rendered still stronger by the presents that accompanied it--the mystic keys of the sepulchre of St. Peter, and filings of his chains, which no Christian could resist. The title of patrician and consul of Rome was offered; and Gregory, as might be expected after such presents, received a courteous answer and an embassy was despatched to the imperial city.

[Sidenote: [741-754 A.D.]]

It is impossible to say what might have been the result of the negotiations between the pope and the ambassadors had they been continued. They were, however, interrupted by the death of both the potentates; of Charles Martel in October, of Gregory III in November of the very same year. Nevertheless these negotiations were the prelude to subsequent negotiations which Pepin le Bref, the son of Charles Martel, carried on with Pope Zacharias (Zachary), the successor of Gregory III; and this time the negotiations led to most important results.

INDEPENDENCE OF THE ROMAN BISHOPS

At the election of Zacharias, the customary form of obtaining the consent of the exarch was discarded, and discarded to be never afterwards revived. Henceforth the popes may be considered as independent of the Eastern Empire; henceforth begins their connection with the West; henceforth they hold no longer an exclusive ecclesiastical position, but the papacy has become a political dukedom. After the Sixth General Council, they had claimed the title of “universal priest,” and vindicated that claim by soon afterwards reducing to submission the last of the great archbishops of the West. After the appeal to Charles Martel and the independent election of Zacharias, they aspired to political sovereignty.[b]

THE APPEAL TO THE FRANKS

Zacharias, convinced of the advantage which Rome might derive from intimate union with the rising power of the Franks, watched with careful attention over the interests of the mayors of the palace; and it was at his suggestion that the nation at length conferred on those powerful functionaries the titles as well as the privileges of royalty. The Lombard princes regarded him with corresponding reverence. Liutprand, whose reign lasted above thirty years, was distinguished for his devout observance of the maxims of the church. The charity of the pontiff was equal to his talents, and the slaves which Venice offered to the Moors were purchased by his agents and set free.

Stephen II,[91] who next occupied the pontifical chair, had to endure, from the very commencement of his career, the troubles and dangers of domestic wars. Aistulf, the new king of the Lombards, inherited the spirit of his earliest predecessors, and it only required the appearance of a leader like Aistulf to put an end forever to the rule of the Greeks in Italy. But the Lombard monarch was not contented with the acquisition of Ravenna. He assailed the duchy of Rome and the lands of the church, nor could Stephen, either by the most solemn expostulations, or the offers which he made of money, induce the conqueror to withdraw his troops. In this situation, and when the Lombards had demanded as the price of their safety a tribute which the citizens of Rome felt it would be impossible to pay, the pontiff sent messengers to Constantinople requesting aid of the emperor; but his entreaties were disregarded. He turned his eyes towards France, where Pepin, the father of the heroic Charlemagne, was now at the head of a nation as warlike as the Lombards, and as disposed to ally itself with Rome as the invaders were to effect its ruin.

[Sidenote: [754-755 A.D.]]

Ambassadors were sent to Rome to treat with the Lombards for Stephen’s safe passage into France, a negotiation which could scarcely fail in the hands of the powerful sovereign by whom it was undertaken. The pontiff was speedily on his way to the new protector of the church. He appeared with all his attendants before the monarch, clad in sackcloth and ashes, and falling at his knees he implored him, by the mercy of God and the merits of St. Peter and St. Paul, to deliver Rome from the devastation of the Lombards. Pepin in reply promised to grant the pontiff’s request, and speedily fulfilled his promise by compelling the enemy to retreat and shut himself up in the single town of Pavia. Aistulf, thus pressed, agreed to the terms proposed by his conqueror, and the French army was withdrawn. But scarcely had they left the district when he returned to the attack with renewed vigour, laid waste the country round Rome with fire and sword, and at length encamped before the gates of the city itself. The pontiff again sent a strong appeal to his protector. He dictated his letter in the name of the apostle Peter, closely imitating his epistles, and speaking in a language which implied that he was possessed of an authority to anoint or dethrone kings, and to perform the offices, not of a messenger, of a teacher sent from God, which is the highest characteristic of an apostle, but of a delegated minister of his power and justice.

The French monarch was moved to render the pontiff immediate succour, and Aistulf was quickly deprived of the fruits of his numerous campaigns. It now became a question to whom the district from which the Lombard was driven ought of right to belong; and, before this point could be decided, the envoy of the Greek emperor appeared, to claim for his master the restoration of the territory which he had so completely abandoned to its fate. But Pepin was both too politic and too conscious of his power to listen to such demands; and sending his chief counsellor, the abbot Fulrade (Folrad), to perform the investiture, he granted to Stephen, and to his successors forever, the undivided sovereignty of the conquered territory.

Thus commenced the temporal dominion of the bishops of Rome--an event which marks a distinct period in the history of the papacy, but the importance of which we cannot but think has been somewhat overrated. The power by which the pontiffs acquired their vast empire in the minds of men, owed little or none of its vigour to the influence they possessed as princes; it went on increasing till it reached the very boundaries of civilisation, while their little seigniory remained confined within the narrowest limits; and it declined, and became almost nominal, while their rights as sovereigns continued to be acknowledged by all the states of Europe. In point of wealth it plainly admits of being questioned whether they could gain any advantage from an acquisition which obliged them to keep an army in their pay; to support a countless train of emissaries and envoys; and to engage in all the expensive arts of diplomacy with the monarchs of countries whose treasures were perpetually supplied by the labours and the commerce of their people.

As little was their new dominion advantageous to their dignity. The pontiff was the first among the spiritual rulers of mankind, the lowest almost of temporal princes. As the head of the church, he was rendered venerable by all the associations and by many of the highest sanctions of religion; as the successor of the exarchs of Ravenna, he was the dependent of every prince who had an army at his command, and was but an item in the catalogue of petty rulers, who were counted as make-weights in the balance of power. In whatever designs he undertook as the supremely endowed minister of God, he could appeal to the hearts and consciences of men; could shake the confidence of the mightiest, and bring into alliance the most contrary elements of society to effect his purpose; whatever attempts he had to make in his temporal capacity required to be supported by the pettiest inventions of secret policy, by contrivances and deceits which, in time, rendered the proceedings of the court of Rome proverbial as examples of cunning and duplicity.

[Sidenote: [755-775 A.D.]]

Stephen died, after a short but eventful pontificate of five years, and was succeeded by his brother Paul (756 A.D.). The Greeks still continued to proclaim their pretensions to the sovereignty of Italy; nor dared the Roman pontiff, vain as were their claims, at once throw off the appearance of allegiance. The Lombards, on the other hand, showed themselves little inclined to preserve the treaty which had been formed with the church. A tumult, equally dangerous to the state and to the respectability of the pontificate, followed the death of Paul. Totona, a nobleman of wealth and influence, formed the design of elevating his brother Constantine to the vacant chair, and Constantine kept possession of his usurped authority nearly a year. A strong effort was then made by the great body of the clergy and the people to recover their invaded right of election. The pontiff was seized, and deprived of his eyes. A new pope ascended the throne.

Stephen III enjoyed his honours about four years, and then left them to be possessed by Adrian I. The Lombards still pressed close upon the boundaries of Rome. It was at this period, moreover, that the controversy with the iconoclasts approached its highest degree of virulence; and Adrian had to employ all the prudence of which he was master to meet the dangers in which it involved him. The measures pursued by the empress Irene were as unfavourable to his views as they were in themselves violent and unjust. The iconoclasts were as odious to him as to her; they were as opposed to the system which it was his object to establish, as they were to her usurpations and tyranny. While he expressed his doubts, therefore, as to the propriety of the new patriarch’s consecration, and showed considerable backwardness in recognising the Second Council of Nicæa, he attempted no vigorous resistance to the invasion of those rules which were violated in her proceedings. The establishment of image-worship promised effects more favourable to his general interests than the assumption of authority by Tiresias, and his patroness was offensive to his immediate feelings. But the church was now to receive the support of a prince whose character and circumstances were equally calculated to mark him for her champion.[c]

CHARLEMAGNE AND THE POPE

[Sidenote: [775-776 A.D.]]

Einhard[l] (Eginhard), the biographer of Charlemagne, informs us that the strictest friendship subsisted between that monarch and Pope Adrian I. In the still extant correspondence between them, we find the freest communication of opinion and feeling both upon political and ecclesiastical affairs. In exact conformity with the policy of his predecessors, Adrian regarded the Frankish monarch as the covenanted protector of the holy see and its possessions, and in that capacity bound to recover for her every debt the pope might see fit to claim as her “righteous due.” Thus when Leo, archbishop of Ravenna, refused to relinquish his metropolitan rights over certain districts alleged to form part of the donation of Charlemagne, the pope expressed his anxiety for the presence and support of his friend and protector. Adrian, moreover, suspected the royal _missi_, or commissioners, of collusion with the vassal dukes of Benevento and Spoleto, to the injury of the holy see; and, whether from authentic information or with a view to alarm his correspondent for the safety of his Italian conquests, he magnified the transactions complained of into a criminal conspiracy against the crown. He told the king that the outbreak was actually fixed to take place in the month of March then next following (776 A.D.); that Adelchis (Adalgis), the son of Desiderius, the captive king of the Lombards, was to appear on the coast with a Greek fleet; that Rome was to be assailed both by sea and land, the churches were to be plundered, the pope was to be carried into captivity, and the Lombard dynasty to be reinstated.

Other motives were not wanting to induce Charlemagne to pay a second military visit to his newly acquired dominions in Italy. It had become necessary to take immediate steps for the dissolution of a long-suspected plot between his disaffected subject, Duke Tassilo of Bavaria, and the partisans of the late dynasty. In the winter, therefore, of the year 776, he crossed the Alps at the head of a numerous army; the duke of Friuli, who appears to have taken a principal part in the conspiracy, was expelled from his duchy; and in a short time the presence of the conqueror appears to have dispelled all apprehensions of further danger either to church or state. The pope professed himself satisfied with the result, and returned thanks for the protection afforded with great apparent warmth and cordiality.

THE DONATION FROM CONSTANTINE

[Sidenote: [776-780 A.D.]]

Yet all had not, it seems, been done for the satisfaction of the papal claims. Another and a different title to an almost imperial power is brought to light. Now, for the first time after the lapse of four centuries and a half, it is discovered that all which Pepin or Charlemagne had conferred on the church of Rome was an insignificant instalment of that more extensive dominion originally granted to the chair of Peter by “the pious emperor Constantine.”

The expressions used by the pope to denote the extent of this supposed donation are not free from uncertainty and ambiguity. The endowment of “supreme power over all the region of the West,” alleged to have been granted by Constantine the Great, must have comprehended much more than the territories conveyed by the deeds of Pepin and Charlemagne. It is therefore insinuated that, though those princes had dealt liberally by the church, they would, notwithstanding, not have done their whole duty until they should have given possession of all that had been comprised in the original deed of gift. Charlemagne, it seems, was to consider himself as the mere executor of his predecessor Constantine the Great; and in that character it is obvious he must stand in a position of far less observance than as the spontaneous patron and benefactor.

The fictitious donation was presented to him as absolute in its terms; therefore as at once discharging the estate conveyed in the execution of its provisions from all dues, duties, and conditions whatsoever, claimable by the hand through which it passed to the rightful owner. It was significantly hinted that his past services were held by the pope to merge in his obligations for the future; that he should think less of the benefits he had conferred than of the duties he might rightfully be called upon to perform; and that, as long as a single item of the infinite debt entailed upon him by his great testator remained unpaid, he must consider himself as debtor to God and St. Peter for the whole.

It would be hardly fair to presume that the impudent forgery, afterwards known by the title of the _Donation of Constantine_, had as yet found its appropriate niche in the archives of the Lateran, or that it was included among the documents which the pope instructed his envoys to produce to Charlemagne. But among the multitude of eager searchers, the thing wanted is generally near enough at hand for the purposes of the less scrupulous among the number. In the reign of Pope Adrian I the desire for territorial acquisition had been stimulated by success to a degree of intensity scarcely paralleled in the history of secular ambition. In such a disposition, a feather-light tradition might stand as good ground for the most extravagant claims; and the fabrication of the outward proof of what was already registered in men’s minds as accredited fact, might appear as a mere venial condescension to the natural adhesion of mankind to the usual and customary modes of proof.

The transient visit of Charlemagne to Italy in the year 776 appears for the moment to have dissipated the apprehensions of the pope. Four years later an interval of peace on his Saxon frontier and the temporary submission of his turbulent vassal Tassilo of Bavaria left Charlemagne at leisure to disentangle by his presence the ravelled state of Italian affairs. He was probably anxious to acquaint himself personally with the causes of the existing disorders, as well as to obtain an explanation of the interruption in the harmony of his correspondence with the pope, whom he sincerely honoured and was well disposed to support. The critical state, however, of the coasts and frontiers, as depicted to him by Adrian, appears to have made no serious impression. No military preparations were thought necessary; and in the winter of the year 780, Charlemagne, accompanied by his consort Hildegard, his two infant sons Carloman and Louis, and escorted by no other force than his ordinary household troops and followers, crossed the Alps into Italy. The annalists of the age describe the expedition as a visit of devotion.

CHARLEMAGNE’S THIRD AND FOURTH ENTRANCES INTO ITALY

[Sidenote: [780-786 A.D.]]

In the spring of the year 781 Charlemagne arrived for the third time in Rome, where he celebrated the great festival of Easter. Pope Adrian upon this occasion conferred the right of baptism on the two young princes, changing the name of the elder from that of Carloman to Pepin, in honour of his grandfather; and at the same moment he crowned the elder “king of the Lombards,” and the younger (Louis) king of Aquitaine. The honour was accepted, probably solicited, by the king without any misgiving as to the inferences that might thereafter be drawn from this or past condescendencies of the like character. Charlemagne never scrupled to make use of church or pontiff for the accomplishment of his political purposes; and he now called upon Adrian to support the remonstrances he thought it necessary to address to his nephew Tassilo by the aid of his spiritual authority.

Charlemagne could not but acknowledge that he had been greatly indebted to the exertions of the churchmen for the pacification of his Saxon acquisitions; and in requital of this co-operation he was not inclined to deny to his spiritual allies an important share in the profits of victory. But the consciousness of present power shut out any sinister view to the future. The church was, after all, in his hands no more than an instrument for the accomplishment of his purposes; that she should ever become his mistress was remote from his contemplation; and it is not to be wondered at that he should have identified her interests with those of his government in that spirit of gratitude which might in the sequel be made to wear an aspect of homage very conducive to the progress of hierarchical pretension.

Both parties were in the main inclined to regard each other as the means and instruments for the promotion of their separate interests. But the absence of any real reciprocity in the terms of compact could not but very soon become apparent. No temporal benefit could be conferred by the pope commensurate with the sacrifices the monarch was incessantly called upon to make to the insatiate craving of the holy see for those substantial augmentations, that costly support, that burdensome protection, to which he was held to have pledged himself. Such an understanding could last no longer than while either or both parties were actuated rather by religious than by merely selfish motives. The views of Pope Adrian had nothing of a properly religious character in them; his correspondence is but an echo of the one shrill cry for “more.” “Give, grant, endow, restore, and the blessed Peter shall surely send you victory and prosperity.” This is the burden of the papal addresses from the birth to the consummation of the alliance. A certain coincidence of interests, supported upon the religious and loyal character of Charlemagne, had hitherto cemented the union; but, though the result might be overlooked, it is clear that as soon as those interests should diverge or cease to exist, there remained nothing behind to prevent them from falling into irreconcilable opposition. Even within this period of apparent concord and cordiality some symptoms of such a divergency may be detected.

[Sidenote: [786-795 A.D.]]

In the year 786 Charlemagne paid a fourth visit to Rome; and after performing the customary devotional exercises at the principal shrines and churches, he applied himself to the task of reducing the refractory duke of Benevento to obedience. An accommodation was easily accomplished; Charlemagne accepted the renewed oaths of allegiance of the duke and his vassals, and carried away with him Grimwald (Grimoald), the second son of Arichis (Arighis), as a pledge for the future obedience of the duke and his subjects. No notice was taken of the papal claim upon the territory of Benevento; and Pope Adrian once more saw his royal patron depart without obtaining the object nearest to his heart. During the remainder of his pontificate we trace no further attempt on the part of the pope to realise his favourite project of aggrandisement. The momentary coolness which had followed the defeat of the Calabrian Greeks produced no real estrangement between him and his great patron; and Adrian died (795) in the full enjoyment of the confidence and esteem of Charlemagne.

THE REALM OF THE POPES

At the close of the reign of Charlemagne the possessions of the church of Rome may thus be identified with existing geographical divisions: (1) In virtue of right, or pretension of right, originating prior to the donation of Pepin, the pontiffs exercised temporal jurisdiction over the city and duchy of Rome as it had existed under the Byzantine supremacy, comprehending, as nearly as may now be ascertained, the modern district emphatically known by the name of the “Patrimony Proper,” together with the greatest portion if not the whole of the Campagna di Roma as far south as Terracina. (2) By the donations of Pepin and Charlemagne the church of Rome had reduced into possession the city and exarchate of Ravenna, comprising the modern legations of Bologna, Romagna, Urbino, and Ferrara, with the duchies of Parma and Modena and a portion of the Venetian terra-firma on the mouths of the Po.

But these extensive tracts of country were regarded by the popes as but a portion of their claim under the treaties of Pontyon and Quierzy and the donation of Charlemagne. That claim extended over the islands of Corsica and Sardinia, the entire duchies of Benevento and Spoleto, and all the remaining dependencies of the Byzantines in southern Italy, including both Calabrias and the adjacent island of Sicily; thus constituting in the aggregate nearly the whole of Italy south of the river Po, ranging thence along the eastern declivity of the Apennines as far as the southernmost confine of the modern grand duchy of Tuscany, and thence expanding over the breadth of the peninsula to the extreme coasts, embracing all the greater adjoining islands and the territory of Istria on the northeastern shores of the Adriatic Sea. Pope Adrian I died on the 26th of December in the year 795, after the unusually long pontificate of twenty-three years and upwards. When Charlemagne heard of his demise, we are told that he wept for him as for a brother.

[Sidenote: [795-800 A.D.]]

On the occasion of Charlemagne’s first visit to Rome (774), Pope Adrian conferred upon him the title and dignity of patrician, or official advocate and protector of the holy see. When shortly after the death of that pontiff in the year 795, Leo, archpriest of the church of St. Susanna, was elected to the vacant chair by the title of Leo III, the new pope hastened to renew the patent of the patriciate, as if it were an office expiring with the life of the grantor. As matters stood at this moment between him and the king, it is safest to conclude that the pope desired that the royal patrician should regard himself as captain-general of the church, and that he should in that capacity be entitled to the military services of its subjects, when called on by the church to interfere for the protection of her temporal rights. But the act of Pope Leo III, which placed his subjects under military obligation to a stranger, was calculated to engender grave misunderstandings. The feudal principle, now rapidly unfolding itself in the European polity, drew no distinction between civil and military subjection; and the oath of the Romans to the protector might be easily confounded with that of subject to sovereign.

The constitutional or political powers exercised at this period by the pontiffs within the city and territory of the church are very obscurely indicated in the documents of the age. From what we discern on the surface of history, no very well-defined relation subsisted between the so-called “republic of Rome” and the spiritual ruler. The bond which connected them, as far as, at this distance of time and with such defective information, we can discern, was the recognised participation of the richer and more powerful families in all the offices of government and the dignities and emoluments of ecclesiastical promotion. But by such an arrangement it is obvious that every just limit between spiritual and temporal interests must be speedily obliterated; the result was verified in the unutterable corruptions of the tenth and eleventh centuries. Even at this point of time, and for a long series of years past, many symptoms of a vicious and demoralising relation between the constituents of the Roman state are apparent.

In the fifth year of the pontificate of Leo III two relatives of Pope Adrian I, Paschal the primicerius and Campulus the sacellarius of the holy see, conspired to depose the reigning pontiff. After suffering some personal injuries at the hands of his rebellious subjects, Leo was expelled from the city; and he resolved to solicit redress in person at the court of Charlemagne, who was at that moment sojourning at Paderborn, within the confines of the vanquished Saxons. The king received the suppliant pontiff with the highest honours, and listened to his complaints with the profoundest attention. Of the special subjects of the conference we are not informed; but in the autumn of the year 799 Leo returned to Rome under an escort sufficiently strong to insure his personal safety. In the interim, the faction opposed to him had lost ground, and he was received by the citizens with unusual tokens of joy and affection.

Pope Leo was, as it appears, accompanied to Rome by two German prelates, Hildebrand archbishop of Cologne, and Arno archbishop of Salzburg, as _missi dominici_, or royal commissioners, charged to make due inquisition into the offences imputed to the pope by his adversaries. The prelates are said to have examined the evidence on both sides with great care and minuteness, and at the close of it to have come to the conclusion that nothing criminal had been established against the pope; upon which decision his rebellious accusers were taken into custody and carried away to France.

THE TRIAL OF THE POPE AND THE CROWNING OF CHARLEMAGNE

[Sidenote: [800 A.D.]]

Within the twelvemonth of the reinstatement of the pope, Charlemagne held a great diet of the realm at Mainz. “There,” says the annalist,[m] “he assembled his great nobles, his bishops, and his abbots all; and having reported to them that there was now peace in all his borders, he called to their minds the evils which the Romans had done to the apostolic Leo; and he set his face to go into the parts of Rome, and thither he accordingly proceeded.” This simple notice of the annalist of Moissac is the only passage in any original chronicle in which a motive for this fifth expedition of Charlemagne to Rome is assigned. The king arrived at the gates of the city on the 24th of November, 800, and was received by the pontiff under the porch of St. Peter’s church, outside the walls, with all due devotion and honour. Seven days afterwards a solemn assembly of the citizens was convoked, at which the king acquainted them with the cause of his visit.

His next proceeding is not very intelligible. He assembled, we are told, a solemn synod, still in the basilica of St. Peter, to inquire into the crimes imputed to the pope; but whether the old or fresh inculpations is not said. On this occasion the king and the pope sat beside each other, surrounded by the nobility, the bishops, and the abbots of France and Italy. The spiritual lords alone were seated; the inferior priests and the laity of all ranks remained standing. Proclamation was then made for the accusers to come forward and make their complaint; but no one answered to the call. It is not apparent why this formality should have been observed at all, inasmuch as the clergy had unanimously declared themselves incompetent to sit in judgment upon a pontiff of the holy see. The pope, however, intimated his intention to purge himself of all the offences laid to his charge in the form established in like cases by his predecessors. On the following day, therefore, he in full synod took the books of the Gospels in his hands, and upon them he solemnly protested his innocence; whereupon “the prelates and all the clergy burst simultaneously into a hymn of thanksgiving, devoutly praising God, the holy Virgin, St. Peter, and all the saints.”

Within the first month of the residence of Charlemagne in Rome nothing took place indicative of any ulterior purpose. During all that time the king had appeared to be absorbed in regulating the political affairs of the church and city. But on Christmas Day of the year 800, while he and the pope devoutly knelt together at the altar of St. Peter’s church, engaged in the preliminary prayer before mass, the pontiff, as if moved by a sudden impulse of inspiration, placed upon his head an elaborately wrought and very costly imperial crown. At the same time the people, as if prepared for the incident, simultaneously and as with one voice exclaimed, “Long life to Charles, augustus, the great and peace-giving emperor of the Romans, whom the hand of God hath crowned!” The salutation was twice repeated; after which, according to imperial custom, he was enthroned and anointed with holy oil, and worshipped by the pope. “Whereby,” says the annalist,[m] “he was unanimously constituted emperor; and dropping the title of patrician, he was thenceforth called ‘imperator augustus.’”

Whether the crown was placed on his head with or without his consent, the mode of conferring it was intended to imply that the king was a passive party, that he accepted it as a boon or gift at the hands of the pope without claim or pretence of right on his own part. The material crown itself was of papal procurement and fabrication; the act of coronation was that of the pontiff; he gave the crown, the Roman people ratified the act and proclaimed the emperor. The transaction bears the character of a joint act, in which Leo and the Romans performed the part of spontaneous electors and sovereign depositaries of imperial power. The adoration was a simple ceremony of recognition; it was unaccompanied with any new oath of allegiance; the rights of the new emperor still resting upon the oath of obedience to him as patrician. Ultimately the participation of the people was no doubt considered as wholly accessory to the papal decision; and the pope might well hold himself out to the world as the sole depositary and dispenser of imperial authority. Upon this ground, indeed, the papacy cast anchor, and for all future ages held on with amazing pertinacity and success.

[Sidenote: [800-824 A.D.]]

On the other hand, Charlemagne and his subjects did not concern themselves with any curious inquiry into the origin of the powers which the imperial crown brought along with it. Yet, in conformity with their general notion of government, they believed that Rome and her pontiff had taken upon them the relation of subjects to the emperor whom they had crowned and anointed. It is certain that Charlemagne regarded himself as the sovereign of Rome, if not of the pope; he was emperor in his own right as fully as if he had placed the crown upon his own head. In conformity with the opinion and practice of his age, he grounded that right upon possession. In the mind of the warrior there was no place for any other derivation of title; and Charlemagne and his successors took as little distinction between the possession and the sovereignty of Rome and its appurtenant territories as they did in the case of his newly acquired dominions in Germany, Lombardy, or Spain.

A few days after the coronation of Charlemagne, he directed the persons implicated in the plot of the preceding year against the life and government of the pope to be brought before him for judgment; and, as supreme judge, he condemned them to the death of traitors. This exercise of supreme criminal judicature indicates at least the assumption of a power understood in that age to be a distinguishing attribute of sovereign authority. The condemned criminals were indeed respited at the intercession of the pope, and their punishment was commuted for exile; but nothing occurred to indicate any jealous feeling on the part of the pontiff; and throughout the winter of the year 801 Charlemagne continued to exercise every prerogative of imperial power in Rome with as free a hand as when he set up his migratory throne upon the banks of the Seine, the Rhine, or the Elbe.

In the year 806 he executed a provisional settlement of the succession to his vast dominions among his then surviving sons. During the whole course of his life Charlemagne was anxious to invest his more important acts with the sanction of religion. The settlement of 806, though provisional only, was solemnly enacted and sworn to by his sons and the estates of the realm assembled in diet at Thionville; and was soon afterwards sent by the hand of the emperor’s secretary to Rome for the approval and signature of the pope--a step which lay open to a construction probably far beyond the intent of Charlemagne.[d]

PAPAL AMBITION AFTER CHARLEMAGNE

Almost immediately after Charlemagne’s death, Leo assumed to himself a degree of authority which could not be exercised without equal injury to the state and to the sacerdotal character. Stephen IV, his successor, took the oath of allegiance, together with the whole of the people, as soon as he ascended the pontifical throne; and announced to the monarch, Louis the Pious, that he would attend him at whatever place he should appoint. But the Christian meekness of the pontiff was exceeded by that of the sovereign, who, on receiving his visit at Rheims, prostrated himself three times at his feet. There is evidence, however, to prove that it still required a man of equally powerful and ambitious mind to take full advantage of the means of aggrandisement afforded by the present position of the church. During the short reigns of several successive popes, we see the power of the emperor distinctly at work, and his right acknowledged, in the management of ecclesiastical affairs.

[Sidenote: [824-847 A.D.]]

In the year 824, and under the pontificate of Eugenius I, Louis sent his son Lothair to Rome, to inquire into the truth of the complaints made by the citizens against their sacerdotal chiefs; and when Gregory IV visited France, for the purpose of effecting a reconciliation between Louis and his son, the bishops of France, whom he appears to have threatened with his censures, proudly dared him to a trial of his power, by informing him that if he did aught against the canons, he should himself be excommunicated or deposed. The pernicious counsel of one of his advisers taught him to answer this intimation by fresh assertions of authority, and he dared to commence the practice, which subsequently proved such a fruitful source of disorder and scandal in Christendom, of declaring the sovereign deposed because of his quarrel with the ruler of the Roman church. The emperor Lothair was sufficiently tenacious of his authority to issue especial orders, on the election of Sergius II without his being consulted, that for the future no candidate for the papal throne should be consecrated till he had given his assent to the election.

In the midst of these events, the victorious Saracens were pursuing their conquests over the most fertile provinces of Europe, Asia, and Africa. While Calabria was overrun by one division of the Saracens, Rome itself was threatened by another. In vain did the terrified Romans look to the descendants of Charlemagne for help; in vain did they proffer again their broken allegiance to the emperor of the East. Neither the one nor the other was in a condition to render the required assistance, and the city appeared doomed to destruction. The venerable churches of St. Peter and St. Paul, which inspired a feeling of devotion by their antiquity, and of wonder by the magnificence of their shrines, were situated a short distance from the walls; and the unfortunate citizens witnessed from the ramparts the spoliation of these, the most sacred of their temples, without the means of making a single effort for their defence. But the rage produced by this spectacle, combined with the terror with which the entrance of the enemy into the city was contemplated, roused them to attempt some measure of resistance. The death of Sergius just at this juncture greatly contributed to promote their success. In electing Leo IV to the vacant office, they provided themselves with a skilful counsellor and an energetic leader. The invader, after various assaults, was obliged to retreat, in order to make the conquest of places less skilfully defended.

The death of Leo was succeeded by much confusion, and in this period of excitement and difficulty, the vacant chair was said to have been ascended by a woman, the celebrated papess Joan.[c]

THE MYTH OF THE WOMAN POPE

[Sidenote: [847-855 A.D.]]

Joan was the name given to a female pope, now regarded as a fictitious personage, who under the title of John VII or VIII was said, according to the most general accounts, to have occupied the papal chair between the pontificate of Leo IV and Benedict III, although various other dates are given. Tradition represents her as of English descent, but born in Ingelheim or Mainz. By some her original name is given as Gilberta, by others as Agnes. She was credited with having fallen in love with a young Benedictine monk, and with having on that account assumed the male monastic habit and lived for some time in the monastery of Fulda. Her lover, it is affirmed, died while they were pursuing their studies together at Athens, and after his death she went to Rome, where, according to the most approved version of the story, she became a very successful professor. So high indeed became her reputation for piety and learning that the cardinals with one consent elected the supposed young monk the successor of Pope Leo IV. In this position she comported herself so as to entirely justify their choice, until the catastrophe of giving birth to a male child during a procession to the Lateran palace suddenly and irrevocably blasted her reputation. She is said to have died in childbirth or to have been stoned to death.

The story of the pontificate of Joan was received as fact from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, but it has been discredited by later researches. The circumstantial evidence around which it clung, and which may have aided in suggesting it, was the observance of a circuit by the papal processions so as to avoid passing through a certain street (a statue at one time standing in that street, said to represent a woman and child, with a monumental stone near it having a peculiar inscription), and the use of a pierced seat at the enthronement of the popes. Of these facts other and more credible explanations have, however, been given, although there is no sufficient evidence to demonstrate beyond dispute the manner in which the story originated. According to Dr. Döllinger,[e] the tradition finds no support in the original text either of Marianus Scotus,[n] Sigebert of Gemblours,[o] or Otto of Freysing.[p] She is first mentioned by Stephen de Bourbon,[q] who died in 1261, and who took his information probably from the chronicle of the Dominican Jean de Mailly, no copy of which is now known to be in existence. The story is not found in any of the original manuscripts of Martinus Polus,[r] and according to Döllinger was interpolated in that chronicle some time between 1278 and 1312. He attributes the propagation of the myth chiefly to its insertion in Martinus Polus, from which it was copied into the _Flores Temporum_, a chronicle founded on Martinus, and its real originators he supposes to have been the Dominicans and Minorites, who had a grudge against the papacy on account of the persecutions they were experiencing at the hands of Benedict VIII. So rapidly did the tradition spread that in 1400 a bust of the papess was placed in the cathedral of Siena along with other popes, having the inscription, “John VIII, a woman from England.” The statue occupied this position till the beginning of the seventeenth century.[f]

[Sidenote: [847-867 A.D.]]

The eight years of Leo’s papacy were chiefly occupied in strengthening, in restoring the plundered and desecrated churches of the two apostles, and adorning Rome. The succession to Leo IV was contested between Benedict III, who commanded the suffrages of the clergy and people, and Anastasius, who, at the head of an armed faction, seized the Lateran, stripped Benedict of his pontifical robes, and awaited the confirmation of his violent usurpation by the imperial legates, whose influence he thought that he had secured. But these commissioners, after strict investigation, decided in favour of Benedict. Anastasius was expelled with disgrace from the Lateran, his rival consecrated in the presence of the emperor’s representatives. Anastasius, with unwonted mercy, was only degraded to lay communion. The pontificate of Benedict III is memorable chiefly for the commencement of the long strife between Ignatius and Photius for the see of Constantinople. This strife ended in the permanent schism between the Eastern and Western churches.

Nicholas I, the successor of Benedict, was chosen rather by the favour of the emperor Louis and his nobles than that of the clergy (858). He has been thought worthy to share the appellation of the Great with Leo I, with Gregory I, with Hildebrand, and with Innocent III. At least three great events signalised the pontificate of Nicholas I--the strife of Photius with Ignatius for the archiepiscopal throne of Constantinople; the prohibition of the divorce of King Lothair from his queen Theutberga; and the humiliation of the great prelates on the Rhine, the successful assertion of the papal supremacy even over Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims. In the first two of these momentous questions, the contest about the see of Constantinople, and that of Lothair, king of Lorraine, with his wife Theutberga, Nicholas took his stand on the great eternal principles of justice, humanity, and sound morals. These were no questions of abstruse and subtle theology nor the assertion of dubious rights. In both cases the pope was the protector of the feeble and the oppressed, the victims of calumny and of cruelty. The bishop of Constantinople, unjustly deposed, persecuted, exiled, treated with the worst inhumanity, implored the judgment of the head of western Christendom. A queen, not only deserted by a weak and cruel husband, but wickedly and falsely criminated by a council of bishops, obtained a hearing at the court of Rome; her innocence was vindicated, her accusers punished, the king himself compelled to bow before the majesty of justice, made more venerable by religion. If in both cases the language of Nicholas was haughty and imperious, it was justified to the ears of men by the goodness of his cause. The lofty supremacy which he asserted over the see of Byzantium awoke no jealousy, being exerted in behalf of a blameless and injured prelate. If he treated the royal dignity of France with contempt, it had already become contemptible in the eyes of mankind; if he annulled by his own authority the decree of a national council, composed of the most distinguished prelates of Gaul, that council had already been condemned by all who had natural sympathies with justice and with innocence. Yet, though in both cases Nicholas displayed equal ability and resolution in the cause of right, the event of the two affairs was very different. The dispute concerning the patriarchate of Constantinople ended in the estrangement, the alienation, the final schism between the East and West. It was the last time that the pope was permitted authoritatively to interfere in the ecclesiastical affairs of the East. The excommunication of the Greek by the Latin church was the final act of separation. In the West Nicholas established a precedent for control even over the private morals of princes. The vices of kings, especially those of France, became the stronghold of papal influence; injured queens and subjects knew to what quarter they might recur for justice or for revenge. And on this occasion the pope brought not only the impotent king, but the powerful clergy of Lorraine, beneath his feet. The great bishops of Cologne and of Trèves were reduced to abject humiliation.

RIVALRY OF NICHOLAS AND PHOTIUS

[Sidenote: [860-867 A.D.]]

The contention for the patriarchate of Constantinople was, strictly speaking, no religious controversy--it was the result of political intrigue and personal animosity. Ignatius, who became the patriarch, was of imperial descent. In the revolution which dethroned his father, Michael Rhangabé, he had taken refuge, under the cowl of a monk, from the jealousy of Leo the Armenian. Photius was chosen as his successor. Rival councils met, and the two patriarchs were alternately excommunicated by the adverse spiritual factions.

Photius was the first to determine on an appeal to Rome. The pope, he thought, would hardly resist the acknowledgment of his superiority, with the tempting promise of the total extirpation of the hated iconoclasts. Not merely did the pope address two lofty and condemnatory letters to the emperor and to Photius, but a third also to “the faithful in the East,” at the close of which he made known to the three Eastern patriarchs his steadfast resolution to maintain the cause of Ignatius, to refuse the recognition of the usurper Photius. The restoration of Ignatius was commanded even in more imperious language, and under more awful sanctions. “We, by the power committed to us by our Lord through St. Peter, restore our brother Ignatius to his former station, to his see, to his dignity as patriarch, and to all the honours of his office. Whoever, after the promulgation of this decree, shall presume to disturb him in the exercise of his office, separate from his communion, or dare to judge him anew, without the consent of the apostolic see, if a clerk, shall share the eternal punishment of the traitor Judas; if a layman, he has incurred the malediction of Canaan; he is excommunicate, and will suffer the same fearful sentence from the eternal Judge.”

Never had the power of the clergy or the supremacy of Rome been asserted so distinctly, so inflexibly. The privileges of Rome were eternal, immutable, anterior to, derived from no synod or council, but granted directly by God himself; they might be assailed, but not transferred; torn off for a time, but not plucked up by the roots. An appeal was open to Rome from all the world, from her authority lay no appeal. The emperor and Constantinople paid no regard to these terrible anathemas of the pope.

SYNOD AT CONSTANTINOPLE

[Sidenote: [867 A.D.]]

In the year 867 Photius had summoned a council at Constantinople; the obsequious prelates listened to the arraignment, and joined in the counter excommunication of Pope Nicholas. Photius drew up eight articles inculpating in one the faith, in the rest the departure, of the see of Rome from ancient and canonical discipline. Among the dreadful acts of heresy and schism which were to divide forever the churches of the East and West were: (1) the observance of Saturday as a fast; (2) the permission to eat milk or cheese during Lent; (4) the restriction of the chrism to the bishops; (6) the promotion of deacons at once to the episcopal dignity; (7) the consecration of a lamb, according to the hated Jewish usage; (8) the shaving of their beards by the clergy. The fifth only of the articles objected to by Photius, the procession of the Holy Ghost from the Father and the Son, was an error so awful as to deserve a thousand anathemas. The third, condemning the enforced celibacy of the clergy, was alone of high moral or religious importance. “From this usage we see in the West,” says Photius, “so many children who know not their fathers.” These, however, were but the pretexts for division. The cause lay deeper, in the total denial of the papal supremacy by the Greeks; their unequivocal assertion that with the empire that supremacy had passed to Constantinople.

The decree of the council boasted the signature of the emperor (obtained, it was said, in an hour of drunkenness); of Basil the Macedonian, averred (most improbably) to have been forged; of the three eastern patriarchs; of the senate and the great officers; of abbots and bishops to the number of nearly one thousand. But the episcopal messenger who was to bear to Rome this defiance of the church of Constantinople and the counter-excommunication of the pope, had proceeded but a short way on his journey when he was stopped by the orders of the new emperor. A revolution in the palace was a revolution in the church of Constantinople. The first act of Basil the Macedonian was to depose Photius. Photius is said to have refused the communion to the murderer Basil. From this time a succession of changes agitated the empire; Photius rose or fell at each successive change.

Leo the Philosopher, the son of Basil, once more ignominiously expelled him from his throne. Yet, though accused of treason, Photius was acquitted and withdrew into honoured retirement. He did not live to witness or profit by another revolution. Though the schism of thirty years, properly speaking, expired in his person, and again a kind of approximation to Rome took place, yet the links were broken which united the two churches. The articles of difference, from which neither would depart, had been defined and hardened into rigid dogmas. During the dark times of the papacy which followed the disruption, even the intercourse became more and more precarious. The popes of the next century were too busy in defending their territories or their lives to regard the affairs of the East. The darkness which gathered round both churches shrouded them from each other’s sight.

[Sidenote: [860-867 A.D.]]

Nicholas the Great had not lived to triumph even in the first fall of Photius. In the West his success was more complete; he had the full enjoyment of conscious power exercised in a righteous cause. Not merely did he behold one of Charlemagne’s successors prostrate at his feet, obliged to abandon to papal censure and to degradation even his high ecclesiastical partisans, but in succession the greatest prelates of the West, the archbishop of Ravenna, the archbishops of Cologne and Trèves, and even Hincmar, the archbishop of Rheims, who seemed to rule despotically over the church and kingdom of France, were forced to bow before his vigorous supremacy.

The matrimonial cause which for many years distracted part of France, on which council after council met, and on which the great prelates of Lorraine came into direct collision with the pope, and were reduced to complete and unpitied humiliation under his authority, was that of King Lothair and his queen Theutberga, as elsewhere described. He threatened the king with immediate excommunication if he did not dismiss the concubine Waldrada, and receive his repudiated queen. He then betook himself to Attigny, the residence of Charles the Bald. He peremptorily commanded the restoration of the bishop Rothrad, who had been canonically, as it was asserted, deposed by Hincmar his metropolitan, and was now irregularly, without inquiry or examination, replaced by the arbitrary mandate of the pope. Hincmar murmured and obeyed; the trembling king acquiesced in the papal decree.

But Nicholas did not live to enjoy his perfect triumph; he died in November, 867 A.D.--a pontiff who, if he advanced no absolutely unexampled pretensions to supremacy in behalf of the Roman see, yet, by the favourable juncture and auspicious circumstances which he seized to assert and maintain that authority, did more than all his predecessors to strengthen and confirm it. During all his conflicts in the West with the royal and with the episcopal power, the moral and religious sympathies of mankind could not but be on his side. If his language was occasionally more violent, even contemptuous, than became the moderation which, up to this time, had mitigated the papal decrees, he might plead lofty and righteous indignation; if he interfered with domestic relations, it was in defence of the innocent and defenceless, and in vindication of the sanctity of marriage; if he treated kings with scorn, it was because they had become contemptible for their weakness or their vices; if he interfered with episcopal or metropolitan jurisdiction, the inferior clergy, even bishops, would be pleased to have a remote, and possibly disinterested tribunal, to which they might appeal from prelates, chosen only from aristocratic connections, barbarians in occupation and in ferocity; if he was inexorable to transgressors, it was to those of the highest order, prelates who had lent themselves to injustice and iniquity, and had defied his power; if he annulled councils, those councils had already been condemned for their injustice, had deserved the reproachful appellation with which they were branded by the pope, with all who had any innate or unperverted sentiment of justice and purity. Hence the presumptuous usurpation even of divine power, so long as it was thus beneficently used, awed, confounded all, and offended few. Men took no alarm at the arrogance which befriended them against the oppressor and the tyrant.

But this vast moral advancement of the popedom was not all which the Roman see owes to Nicholas I; she owes the questionable boon of the recognition of the _False Decretals_ as the law of the church.

THE _FALSE DECRETALS_

[Sidenote: [858-869 A.D.]]

Nicholas I not only saw during his pontificate the famous _False Decretals_ take their place in the jurisprudence of Latin Christendom; if he did not promulgate, he assumed them as authentic documents; he gave them the weight of the papal sanction; and with their aid prostrated at his feet the one great transalpine prelate who could still maintain the independence of the Teutonic church, Hincmar archbishop of Rheims.

Up to this period the decretals, the letters or edicts of the bishops of Rome, according to the authorised or common collection of Dionysius, commenced with Pope Siricius, towards the close of the fourth century. To the collection of Dionysius was added that of the authentic councils, which bore the name of Isidore of Seville. On a sudden was promulgated, unannounced, without preparation, not absolutely unquestioned, but apparently overawing at once all doubt, a new code, which to the former authentic documents added fifty-nine letters and decrees of the twenty oldest popes from Clement to Melchiades (Miltiades), and the donation of Constantine; and in the third part, among the decrees of the popes and of the councils from Silvester to Gregory II, thirty-nine false decrees, and the acts of several unauthentic councils. In this vast manual of sacerdotal Christianity the popes appear from the first the parents, guardians, legislators of the faith throughout the world. The _False Decretals_ do not merely assert the supremacy of the popes--the dignity and privileges of the bishop of Rome--they comprehend the whole dogmatic system and discipline of the church, the whole hierarchy from the highest to the lowest degree, their sanctity, and immunities, their persecutions, their disputes, their right of appeal to Rome.

But for the too manifest design, the aggrandisement of the see of Rome and the aggrandisement of the whole clergy in subordination to the see of Rome; but for the monstrous ignorance of history, which betrays itself in glaring anachronisms, and in the utter confusion of the order of events and the lives of distinguished men--the former awakening keen and jealous suspicion, the latter making the detection of the spuriousness of the whole easy, clear, irrefragable--the _False Decretals_ might still have maintained their place in ecclesiastical history. They are now given up by all; not a voice is raised in their favour; the utmost that is done by those who cannot suppress all regret at their explosion, is to palliate the guilt of the forger, to call in question or to weaken the influence which they had in their own day, and throughout the later history of Christianity.

The author or authors of this most audacious and elaborate of pious frauds are unknown; the date and place of its compilation are driven into such narrow limits that they may be determined within a few years, and within a very circumscribed region. The _False Decretals_ came not from Rome; the time of their arrival at Rome, after they were known beyond the Alps, appears almost certain. In one year Nicholas I is apparently ignorant of their existence, the next he speaks of them with full knowledge. They contain words manifestly used at the Council of Paris (829 A.D.), consequently are of later date; they were known to the Levite Benedict of Metz, who composed a supplement to the collection of capitularies by Adgesil, between 840-847 A.D. The city of Metz is designated with nearly equal certainty as the place in which, if not actually composed, they were first promulgated as the canon law of Christendom.

The state of affairs in the divided and distracted empire might seem almost to call for, almost to justify, this desperate effort to strengthen the ecclesiastical power. All the lower clergy, including some of the bishops, were groaning, just at this time, under heavy oppression. By the constitution of Charlemagne, which survived under Louis the Pious, and, so long as the empire maintained its unity, asserted the independence of the transalpine hierarchy of all but the temporal sovereign, the clergy were under strict subordination to the bishop, the bishop to the metropolitan, the metropolitan only to the emperor. Conflicting popes, or popes in conflict with Italian enemies, or with their own subjects, had reduced the papacy to vassalage under the empire. Conflicting kings, on the division of the realm of Charlemagne, had not yet, but were soon about to submit the empire to the Roman supremacy. All at present was anarchy. The Germans and the French were drawing asunder into separate rival nations; the sons of Louis were waging an endless, implacable strife. Almost every year, less than every decade of years, beheld a new partition of the empire; kingdoms rose and fell, took new boundaries, acknowledged new sovereigns; no government was strong enough to maintain the law; might was the only law.

The hierarchy, if not the whole clergy, had taken the lead in the disruption of the unity of the empire; they had abased the throne of Louis; they were for a short disastrous period now the victims of that abasement. Their wealth was their danger. They had become secular princes, they had become nobles, they had become vast landed proprietors. But during the civil wars it was not the persuasive voice, but the strong arm, which had authority; the mitre must bow before the helmet, the crosier before the sword. Not only the domains, the persons of the clergy had lost their sanctity. The persecution and oppression of the church and the clergy had reached a height unknown in former times.

It might occur to the most religious that for the sake of religion; it might occur to those to whom the dignity and interest of the sacerdotal order were their religion, that some effort must be made to reinvest the clergy in their imperilled sanctity. There must be some appeal against this secular, this ecclesiastical tyranny; and whither should appeal be? It could not be to the Scriptures, to the Gospel. It must be to ancient and venerable tradition, to the unrepealed, irrepealable law of the church; to remote and awful Rome. Rome must be proclaimed in an unusual, more emphatic manner, the eternal, immemorial court of appeal. The tradition must not rest on the comparatively recent names of Leo the Great, of Innocent the Great, of Siricius, or the right of appeal depend on the decree of the Council of Sardica. It must come down from the successors of St. Peter himself in unbroken succession. The whole clergy must have a perpetual, indefeasible sanctity of the same antiquity. So may the idea of this, to us it seems, monstrous fiction have dawned upon its author; himself may have implicitly believed that he asserted no prerogative for Rome which Rome herself had not claimed, which he did not think to be her right. It is even now asserted, perhaps can hardly be disproved, that the _False Decretals_ advanced no pretensions in favour of the see of Rome which had not been heard before in some vague and indefinite, but not therefore less significant, language. The boldness of the act was in the new authority in which it arrayed these pretensions. The new code was enshrined, as it were, in a framework of deeply religious thought and language; it was introduced under the venerated name of Isidore of Seville; it was thus attached to the authentic work of Isidore, which had long enjoyed undisputed authority. Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims, as the most powerful, so, perhaps, the most learned transalpine ecclesiastic, who might at once have exposed the fiction, which he could hardly but know to be a fiction, co-operated more than anyone else to establish its authority. So long as he supposed it to advance or confirm his own power, he suppressed all intrusive doubts; he discovered too late that it was a trap (a mousetrap is his own undignified word) to catch unwary metropolitans. Hincmar was caught, beyond all hope of escape. In the appeal of Rothrad, bishop of Soissons, against Hincmar, metropolitan of Rheims, Pope Nicholas I at first alleges no word of the new decretals in favour of his right of appeal; he seemingly knows no older authority than that of Innocent, Leo, Siricius, and the Council of Sardica. The next year not merely is he fully master of the pseudo-Isidorian documents, but he taunts Hincmar with now calling in question, when it makes against him, authority which he was ready to acknowledge in confirmation of his own power. Hincmar is forced to the humiliation of submission. Rothrad, deposed by Hincmar, deposed by the Council of Senlis, is reinstated in his see.

This immediate, if somewhat cautious, adoption of the fiction, unquestionably not the forgery, by Pope Nicholas, appears less capable of charitable palliation than the original invention. Nor did the successors of Nicholas betray any greater scruple in strengthening themselves by this welcome, and therefore only unsuspicious aid. It is impossible to deny that, at least by citing without reserve or hesitation, the Roman pontiffs gave their deliberate sanction to this great historic fraud.

Nor must be overlooked, perhaps, the more important result of the acceptance of the pseudo-Isidorian statutes as the universal, immemorial, irrepealable law of Christendom. It established the great principle which Nicholas I had before announced, of the sole legislative power of the pope. Every one of these papal epistles was a canon of the church; every future bull therefore rested on the same irrefragable authority, commanded the same implicit obedience. The papacy became a legislative as well as an administrative authority. Infallibility was the next inevitable step, if infallibility was not already in the power asserted to have been bestowed by the Lord on St. Peter, by St. Peter handed down in unbroken descent, and in a plenitude which could not be restricted or limited, to his successors.

ADRIAN II

Nicholas was succeeded (November, 867) by Adrian II, a rigid and lofty churchman, who, though his policy at first appeared doubtful, resolutely maintained, but not with equal judgment and success, the principles of his predecessor. Adrian (he was now seventy-five years old) had been married before he became a priest. At the intercession of the emperor Louis, he took off the ban of excommunication from Waldrada, and restored her to the communion of the church. By this lenity he might seem to lure King Lothair to the last act of submission. The king of Lorraine arrived in Italy. The pope seemed to yield to the influence of Louis and the empress Ingelberga; at least he accepted the munificent presents of the king.

[Sidenote: [869-876 A.D.]]

From Monte Cassino, where they first met, Lothair followed the pope to Rome. There, instead of being received as a king, and as one reconciled with the see of Rome, when he entered the church all was silent and vacant; not one of the clergy appeared; he retired to a neighbouring chamber, which was not even swept for his reception. The next day was Sunday, and he hoped to hear the mass chanted before him. The pope refused him this honour. He dined, however, the next day with the pope, and an interchange of presents took place. At length Adrian consented to admit him to the communion.

Pope Adrian seized the occasion of the contest for the kingdom of Lothair to advance still more daring and unprecedented pretensions. But the world was not yet ripe for this broad and naked assertion of secular power by the pope, his claim to interfere in the disposal of kingdoms. Directly he left the strong ground of moral and religious authority, from which his predecessor Nicholas had commanded the world, he encountered insurmountable resistance. With all that remained of just and generous sympathy on their side popes might intermeddle in the domestic relations of kings; they were not permitted as yet to touch the question of royal succession or inheritance. The royal and the episcopal power had quailed before Nicholas; the fulminations of Adrian were treated with contempt or indifference: and Hincmar of Rheims in this quarrel with Adrian regained that independence and ascendency which had been obscured by his temporary submission to Nicholas.

Nicholas I and Adrian II thus, with different success, imperiously dictating to sovereigns, ruling or attempting to rule the higher clergy in foreign countries with a despotic sway, mingling in the political revolutions of Europe, awarding crowns, and adjudging kingly inheritances, might seem the immediate ancestors of Gregory VII, of Innocent III, of Boniface VIII. But the papacy had to undergo a period of gloom and degradation, even of guilt, before it emerged again to its height of power.

The pontificate of John VIII (872) is the turning-point in this gradual, but rapid and almost total change; among its causes were the extinction of the imperial branch of the Carlovingian race and the frequent transference of the empire from one line of sovereigns to another; with the growth of the formidable dukes and counts in Italy, which overshadowed the papal power and reduced the pope himself to the slave or the victim of one of the contending factions. The pope was elected, deposed, imprisoned, murdered. In the wild turbulence of the times not merely the reverence but the sanctity of his character disappeared. He sank to the common level of mortals; and the head of Christendom was as fierce and licentious as the petty princes who surrounded him, out of whose stock he sprang, and whose habits he did not break off when raised to the papal throne.

John VIII, however, still stood on the vantage ground occupied by Nicholas I and Adrian II. He was a Roman by birth. He signalised his pontificate by an act even more imposing than those of his predecessors, the nomination to the empire, which his language represented rather as a grant from the papal authority than as an hereditary dignity; it was a direct gift from heaven, conveyed at the will of the pope. Already there appear indications of a French and German interest contending for the papal influence which grows into more and more decided faction, till the Carlovingian empire is united, soon to be dissolved forever, in the person of Charles the Fat. John VIII adopted the dangerous policy of a partial adherence to France. But the historians are almost unanimous as to the price which Charles was compelled to pay for his imperial crown. He bought the pope, he bought the senators of Rome; he bought, if we might venture to take the words to the letter, St. Peter himself.

[Sidenote: [876-878 A.D.]]

The imperial reign of Charles the Bald was short and inglorious. The whole pontificate of John VIII was a long, if at times interrupted, agony of apprehension lest Rome should fall into the hands of the unbeliever. The reign of the late emperor Louis had been almost a continual warfare against the Mohammedans, who had now obtained a firm footing in southern Italy. He had successfully repelled their progress, but at the death of Louis Rome was again in danger of becoming a Mohammedan city. The pope wrote letter after letter in the most urgent and feeling language to Charles the Bald soon after he had invested him with the empire. “If all the trees in the forest,” such is the style of the pope, “were turned into tongues, they could not describe the ravages of these impious pagans; the devout people of God are destroyed by a continual slaughter; he who escapes the fire and the sword is carried as a captive into exile. Cities, castles, and villages are utterly wasted, and without an inhabitant. The bishops are wandering about in beggary, or fly to Rome as the only place of refuge.”

Yet, if possible, even more formidable than the infidels were the petty Christian princes of Italy. “The canker-worm eats what the locust has left.” In many parts of Italy had gradually arisen independent dukedoms; and none of these appear to have felt any religious respect for the pope, some not for Christianity. On the vacancy after the death of Pope Nicholas, Lambert of Spoleto had occupied and pillaged Rome, respecting neither monastery nor church, and carrying off a great number of young females of the highest rank. Adelchis, the duke of Benevento, had dared to seize in that city the sacred person of the emperor Louis. He was only permitted to leave the city after he had taken a solemn oath to Adelchis--an oath in which his wife, his daughter, and all his attendants were compelled to join--that he would neither in his own person nor by any other revenge this act of insolent rebellion. No sooner, however, had Louis reached Ravenna in safety than he sent to the pope to absolve him from his oath. Adrian II, then pope, began to assert that dangerous privilege of absolution from solemn and recorded oaths.

The bishop-duke of Spoleto did not scruple to return to the unhallowed policy of his brother. He entered into a new league with the Saracens, gave them quarters, and actually uniting his troops with theirs, defeated the forces of Benevento, Capua, and Salerno, and opened a free passage for their incursions to the gates of Rome.

The imperial crown was again vacant, and claimed by the conflicting houses of France and Germany. But Carloman, son of Ludwig of Germany, had been acknowledged as king of Italy. Probably as partisans of the German, and to compel the pope to abandon the interest of the French line, to which he adhered with unshaken fidelity, Lambert, duke of Spoleto, that antichrist, as the pope described him, with his adulterous sister, Richildis, and his accomplice, the treacherous Adalbert, count of Tuscany, at the head of an irresistible force, entered Rome, seized and confined the pope, and endeavoured to starve him into concession, and compelled the clergy and the Romans to take an oath of allegiance to Carloman, as king of Italy. For thirty days the religious services were interrupted; not a single lamp burned on the altars.

[Sidenote: [878-891 A.D.]]

No sooner had they retired than the pope caused all the sacred treasures to be conveyed from St. Peter’s to the Lateran, covered the altar of St. Peter with sackcloth, closed the doors, and refused to permit the pilgrims from distant lands to approach the shrine. He then fled to Ostia, and embarked for France.

When he reached the shores of Provence, John VIII felt himself in another world. Instead of turbulent and lawless enemies (such were the counts and dukes of Italy) whose rapacity or animosity paid no respect to sacred things, and treated the pope like an ordinary mortal, the whole kingdom of France might seem to throw itself humbly at his feet. No pope was more prodigal of excommunication than John VIII. Of his letters (above three hundred) it is remarkable how large a proportion threaten, inflict, or at least allude to this last exercise of sacerdotal power.

The indefatigable pope returned over the Alps by the Mont Cenis, to Turin and Pavia; but of all whom he had so commandingly exhorted, and so earnestly implored to march for his protection against the Saracens, and no doubt against his Italian enemies, none obeyed but Duke Boson of Provence. The Saracens, in the meantime, courted by all parties, impartially plundered all, made or broke alliances with the same facility with the Christians, while the poor monks, even of St. Benedict’s own foundation, lived in perpetual fear of spoliation. The last days of John VIII were occupied in writing more and more urgent letters for aid to Charles the Fat, in warfare, or providing means of war against his Saracen and Christian foes, or dealing excommunications on all sides; yet facing with gallant resolution the foes of his person and his power. This violent pope is said (but by one writer only) to have come to a violent end; his brains were beaten out with a mallet by some enemy, covetous of his wealth and ambitious of the papal crown.

The short pontificate of Marinus (Marinus I or Martin II) was followed by the still shorter rule of Adrian III, which lasted but fourteen months. That of Stephen V, though not of longer duration, witnessed events of far more importance to the papacy, to Italy, and to Christendom. On the death of Charles the Fat, the ill-cemented edifice of the Carlovingian Empire, the discordant materials of which had reunited, not by natural affinity but almost by the force of accident, dissolved again and forever. The legitimate race of Charlemagne expired in the person of his unworthy descendant, whose name, derived from mere physical bulk, contrasted with the mental greatness, the commanding qualities of military, administrative, and even intellectual superiority which had blended with the name of the first Charles the appellation of the Great.

POPE FORMOSUS

[Sidenote: [891-897 A.D.]]

The death of Stephen, September, 891, and the election of Formosus to the papacy, changed the aspect of affairs, and betrayed the hostilities still rankling at Rome. By the election of Formosus was violated the ordinary canonical rule against the translation of bishops from one see to another (Formosus was bishop of Porto), which was still held in some respect. There were yet stronger objections to the election of a bishop who had been excommunicated by a former pontiff, excommunicated as an accomplice in a conspiracy to murder the pope. The excommunicated Formosus had been compelled to take an oath never to resume his episcopal functions, never to return to Rome, and never to presume but to lay communion. The successor of John had granted absolution from these penalties, from this oath.

This election must have been a desperate measure of an unscrupulous faction. Nor was Formosus chosen without a fierce and violent struggle.

The suffrages of a party among the clergy and people had already fallen upon Sergius. He was actually at the altar preparing for the solemn ceremony of inauguration, when he was torn away by the stronger faction. Formosus, chosen, as his partisans declared, for his superior learning and knowledge of the Scripture, was then invested in the papal dignity.

When Pope Formosus died, May 23rd, 896, the election fell to Boniface VII. The new pontiff laboured under the imputation of having been twice deposed for his profligate and scandalous life, first from the subdiaconate, afterwards from the priesthood. Boniface died of the gout fifteen days after his elevation. The Italian party hastened to the election of Stephen VI.

Probably the German governor had withdrawn before Stephen and his faction proceeded to wreak their vengeance on the lifeless remains of Formosus. Fierce political animosity took the form of ecclesiastical solemnity. The body was disinterred, dressed in the papal habiliments, and, before a council assembled for the purpose, addressed in these words: “Wherefore wert thou, being bishop of Porto, tempted by ambition to usurp the Catholic see of Rome?” The deacon who had been assigned as counsel for the dead maintained a prudent silence. The sacred vestments were then stripped from the body, three of the fingers cut off, the body cast into the Tiber. All who had been ordained by Formosus were reordained by Stephen. Such, however, were the vicissitudes of popular feeling in Rome, that some years after a miracle was said to have asserted the innocence of Formosus. His body was found by fishermen in the Tiber, and carried back for burial in the church of St. Peter. As the coffin passed, all the images in the church reverentially bowed their heads.

The pontificate of Stephen soon came to an end. A new revolution revenged the disinterment of the insulted prelate. And now the fierceness of political rather than religious faction had utterly destroyed all reverence for the sacred person of the pope. Stephen was thrown into prison by his enemies, and strangled. The convenient charge of usurpation, always brought against the popes whom their adversaries dethroned or put to death, may have reconciled their minds to the impious deed, but it is difficult to discover in what respect the title of Pope Stephen VI was defective.

[Sidenote: [897-911 A.D.]]

Pope now succeeded pope with such rapidity as to awaken the inevitable suspicion, either that those were chosen who were likely to make a speedy vacancy, or they received but a fatal gift in the pontificate of Rome. Romanus and Theodore II survived their promotion each only a few months. The latter, by his restoration of Formosus to the rights of Christian burial, and by his reversal of the acts of Stephen VI, may be presumed to have belonged to that faction. The next election was contested with all the strength and violence of the adverse parties. John IX was successful; his competitor Sergius, according to some accounts formerly the discomfited competitor of Formosus, and his bitter and implacable enemy, fled to the powerful protection of the marquis of Tuscany. Sergius was excommunicated, with several other priests and inferior clergy, as accessory to the insults against the body of Formosus. Sergius laughed to scorn the thunders of his rival, so long as he was under the protection of the powerful house of Tuscany. With John IX, who died July, 901, closed the ninth century of Christianity; the tenth, in Italy at least the iron age, had already darkened upon Rome; the pontificate had been won by crime and vacated by murder.

This iron age, as it has been called, opened with the pontificate of Benedict IV (900-903), the successor of John IX. The only act recorded of Benedict IV was the coronation of the unfortunate Louis of Provence, the competitor of Berengar for the empire. Louis, according to imperial usage, set up his tribunal and adjudged causes at Rome. On the death of Benedict, the prudent precautions established by John IX to introduce some regularity and control over the anarchy of an election by a clergy rent into factions by a lawless nobility, and still more lawless people, during this utter helplessness and the abeyance, or the strife for the empire between rival princes, fell into utter neglect or impotency. The papacy became the prize of the most active, daring, and violent. Leo V won the prize; before two months he was ejected and thrown into prison by Christopher, one of his own presbyters and chaplains. The same year, or early in the next, Christopher was in his turn ignominiously driven from Rome.

It was under the protection of the powerful Tuscan prince Berengar that the exiled Sergius, at the head of a strong force of Tuscan soldiers, appeared in Rome, deposed Christopher, who had just deposed Leo V, and took possession of the papal throne. Sergius had been seven years an exile in Tuscany; for seven years he ruled as supreme but not undisputed pontiff. This pope has been loaded with every vice and every enormity which can blacken the character of man. Yet as to his reign there is almost total obscurity. The only certain act which has transpired is his restoration of the Lateran palace, which had fallen into ruins; an act which indicates a period of comparative peace and orderly administration, with the command of a large revenue. In these violent times Sergius probably scrupled at no violence; but if he drove a pope from the throne of St. Peter, that pope had just before deposed his patron, and with great cruelty.

THEODORA IN POWER

But during the papacy of Sergius rose into power the infamous Theodora, with her daughters Marozia and Theodora, the prostitutes who, in the strong language of historians, disposed for many years the papal tiara, and not content with disgracing by their own licentious lives the chief city of Christendom, actually placed their profligate paramours or base-born sons in the chair of St. Peter. The influence obtained by Theodora and her daughters, if it shows not the criminal connivance of Pope Sergius, or a still more disgraceful connection with which he was charged by the scandal of the times, proves at least the utter degradation of the papal power in Rome. It had not only lost all commanding authority, but could not even maintain outward decency. Theodora was born of a noble and wealthy senatorial family, on whom she has entailed an infamous immortality. The women of Rome seem at successive periods seized with a kind of Roman ambition to surpass their sex by the greatness of their virtues and of their vices. These females were to the Paulas and Eustochiums of the younger and severer age of Roman Christianity, what the Julias and Messallinas of the empire were to the Volumnias and Cornelias of the republic.

[Sidenote: [911-928 A.D.]]

It must be acknowledged that if the stern language of Tacitus and Juvenal may have darkened the vices of the queens and daughters of the cæsars, the bishop of Cremona,[s] our chief authority on the enormities of Theodora and her daughters, wants the moral dignity, while he is liable to the same suspicion as those great writers. Throughout the lives of the pontiffs themselves we have to balance between the malignant license of satire and the unmeaning phrases of adulatory panegyric. On the other hand it is difficult to decide which is more utterly unchristian--the profound hatred which could invent or accredit such stories; the utter dissoluteness which made them easily believed; or the actual truth of such charges.

Liutprand[s] relates that John, afterwards the tenth pope of that name, being employed in Rome on some ecclesiastical matters by the archbishop of Ravenna, was the paramour of Theodora, who not only allowed but compelled him to her embraces. John was first appointed to the see of Bologna; but the archbishopric of Ravenna, the second ecclesiastical dignity in Italy, falling vacant before he had been consecrated, he was advanced by the same dominant influence to that see. But Theodora bore with impatience the separation of two hundred miles from her lover. Anastasius III had succeeded Sergius (911) and occupied the papacy for rather more than two years; after him Lando for six months (913). On the death of Lando (914) by a more flagrant violation of the canonical rule than that charged against the dead body of Formosus, John was translated from the archiepiscopate of Ravenna to the see of Rome. But Theodora, if she indeed possessed this dictatorial power, and the clergy and people of Rome, if they yielded to her dictation, may have been actuated by nobler and better motives than her gratification of a lustful passion, if not by motives purely Christian. For however the archbishop of Ravenna might be no example of piety or holiness as the spiritual head of Christendom, he appears to have been highly qualified for the secular part of his office. He was a man of ability and daring, eminently wanted at this juncture to save Rome from becoming the prey of Mohammedan conquest, organising a powerful confederacy of neighbouring dukes to accomplish this purpose.

He placed himself at the head of the army, and for the first time the successor of St. Peter, the vicar of the Prince of peace, rode forth in his array to battle. And if success, as it doubtless was, might be interpreted as a manifestation of divine approval, the total discomfiture of the Saracens and the destruction of the troublesome fortress on the Garigliano seemed to sanction this new and unseemly character assumed by the pope. Even the apostles sanctioned or secured by their presence the triumph of the warlike pope.

For fourteen years (914-928), obscure as regards Rome and the pontificate, this powerful prelate occupied the see of Rome. If he gained it (a doubtful charge) by the vices and influence of the mother Theodora, he lost it, together with his life, by the no less flagrant vices and more monstrous power of the daughter Marozia.

THE INFAMOUS MAROZIA

[Sidenote: [925-931 A.D.]]

Theodora disappears; and Pope John X is found engaged in a fierce contest for the mastery of Rome with Marozia and her lover or husband, the marquis Alberic, by whom she had a son of the same name, afterwards tyrant of the city. The vigorous and martial pontiff succeeds in expelling Alberic from the city; Alberic probably met his death soon after (925). It is said that he was murdered by the Romans in revenge for some secret alliance entered into with the Hungarians, who were then wasting Italy, and had reached the very frontiers of Calabria.

The death of her husband increased rather than weakened the power of Marozia. Her personal charms, and her unscrupulous use of them, are said to have multiplied to an infinite extent her adherents. Her paramours made a strong party. The empire was vacant. There was no potentate to whom the pope could appeal. Marozia seized the castle of St. Angelo, and with this precious dowry, which commanded Rome, she sought to confirm her power by some splendid alliance. Guido, the duke of Tuscany, the son of Adalbert the marquis, did not disdain the nuptials with a profligate woman who brought Rome as her marriage portion.

John X was left to contest alone the government of Rome with Marozia and her Tuscan husband. Neither Rome nor the mistress of Rome regarded the real services rendered by John X to Christendom and to Italy. The former lover, as public scandal averred, of her mother, the saviour of Rome from the Saracens, was surprised in the Lateran palace by this daring woman. His brother Peter, as it appears, his great support in the contest for the government of Rome, and therefore the object of peculiar hatred to Guido and Marozia, was killed before his face. The pope was thrown into prison, where some months after he died (929) either of anguish and despair, or by more summary means. It was rumoured that he was smothered with a pillow. No means were too violent for Marozia to employ even against a pope.

Marozia did not venture at once to place her son on the papal throne. A Leo VI was pope for some months; a Stephen VII for two years and one month. That son may as yet have been too young even for this shameless woman to advance him to the highest ecclesiastical dignity; her husband Guido may have had some lingering respect for the sacred office, some struggling feelings of decency. But at the death of Stephen, Marozia again ruled alone in Rome; her husband Guido was dead, and her son was pope. John XI (according to the rumours of the time, of which Liutprand,[s] a follower of Hugo of Provence, may be accepted as a faithful reporter) was the offspring of Marozia by the pope Sergius; more trustworthy authorities make him the lawful son of her husband Alberic. But the obsequious clergy and people acquiesced without resistance in the commands of their patrician mistress; the son of Marozia is successor of St. Peter.

But the aspiring Marozia, not content with having been the wife of a marquis, the wife of the wealthy and powerful duke of Tuscany, perhaps the mistress of one, certainly the mother of another pope, looked still higher in her lustful ambition; she must wed a monarch. She sent to offer herself and the city of Rome to the new king of Italy, Hugo of Provence, who was not scrupulous in his amours, lawful or unlawful. Through policy or through passion he was always ready to form or to break these tender connections. The cautious Marozia would not allow his army to enter the city, but received her royal bridegroom in the castle of St. Angelo. There was celebrated this unhallowed marriage.

REBELLION OF ROME

[Sidenote: [931-953 A.D.]]

But though the Romans would brook the dominion of a Roman woman, they would not endure that of a foreigner. The coarse vices, the gluttony of the soldiers of Hugo offended the fastidious Italians. The insolence of Hugo himself provoked a rebellion. The nobles were called upon to perform menial offices, usual probably in the half feudal transalpine courts but alien to Italian manners. Alberic, the son of Marozia, was commanded to hold the water in which King Hugo washed his hands. Performing his office awkwardly or reluctantly, he spilled the water, and received a blow on the face from the king. Already may Alberic have been jealous of the promotion of his brother to the popedom, and have resented this devotion of his mother to her new foreign connections. He was a youth of daring; he organised a conspiracy among the nobles of Rome; he appealed to the old Roman pride: “Shall these Burgundians, of old the slaves of Rome, tyrannise over Romans?” At the tolling of the bell the whole people flocked to his banner, and attacked the castle of St. Angelo before Hugo could admit his own troops. Alberic remained master of the castle, of his mother, and of the pope. These two he cast into prison, defied the king of Italy, who made an ignominious retreat, and from that time remained master of Rome.

For four years Pope John XI lingered in fact a prisoner, at least without any share in the government of Rome, only permitted to perform his spiritual functions. Alberic ruled undisturbed. King Hugo attempted to bribe him to the surrender of Rome, by the offer of his daughter in marriage; the more crafty Alberic married the daughter, and retained possession of Rome. After the death of John a succession of popes, appointed, no doubt, by the sole will of Alberic, Leo VII, Stephen IX, Marinus II (or Martin III) Agapetus II, pass over the throne of the popedom, with hardly a sign of their power in Rome, no indication of their dignity, still less of their sanctity. They are still Popes beyond the Alps. Nor was the supreme pontiff alone depressed in these turbulent times. The great ecclesiastics are mingled in most of the treacherous and bloody transactions of the period. Individual energy gave the bishops of the city great power, but as they acted with as little restraint, so these prelates were treated with as little reverence as secular princes.

During the whole reign of Hugo of Provence, notwithstanding the open or treacherous assaults of that king, Alberic, whether as an armed tyrant commanding Rome from the castle of St. Angelo, or as the head of a republic and recognised by the voice of the Roman people, had maintained his authority. He had ruled for twenty-two years; he bequeathed that authority, on his death (953), to his son Octavian.

POPE JOHN XII

[Sidenote: [953-963 A.D.]]

Octavian, though only nineteen years old, aspired to unite, in his own person, the civil and spiritual supremacy. He was already in holy orders; two years after the death of his father Alberic, the pope Agapetus II died; and Octavian, by the voluntary or enforced suffrages of the clergy and the people, was elected pope. He was the first of the Roman pontiffs who changed, or rather took a second ecclesiastical name; the civil government seems to have been conducted in that of Octavian; the church was administered under that of John XII.

In the meantime had arisen in Germany a monarch more powerful than had appeared in Europe since the death of Charlemagne, Otto (Otho) the Great. Otto made some disposition for a visit to Rome to receive the imperial crown from the hands of the pope Agapetus. All Italy looked for the coming of the new Charlemagne. On his appearance resistance vanished. Berengar and Adalbert shut themselves up in their strongest fortresses. It was a triumphal procession to Pavia--to Rome. At Pavia Otto the Great was crowned king of Italy, at Rome the pope anointed him as emperor (962). Thenceforth the king of Germany claimed to be Western emperor. Otto swore to protect the church of Rome against all her enemies, to maintain her rights and privileges, to restore her lands and possessions, when he should have recovered them, and to make no change in the government of Rome without the sanction of the pope. John XII and the Roman people took the oath of allegiance to the emperor; they swore more particularly to abandon all connection with Berengar and his son. The oath was taken on the body of St. Peter.

Yet no sooner had the emperor returned to Pavia, than the perfidious John, finding that he had unwarily introduced a master instead of an obsequious ally, began to enter into correspondence with Adalbert, who, driven from every Italian city, had found refuge with the Saracens. Rumours of this treason reached the emperor. The noble German would not believe the monstrous perfidy; he sent some trustworthy officers to inquire into the truth; they returned with a fearful list of crimes, of license, and cruelty, with which the son of Alberic, who seems entirely to have sunk the character of pope in that of the young, warlike, secular prince, was charged by the unanimous voice of Rome. In July, 963, Otto marched upon the capital; the pontiff had reckoned on the cordial support of the people; they recoiled; the pope and Adalbert fled together from Rome.

TRIAL OF THE POPE

[Sidenote: [963-964 A.D.]]

The emperor summoned an ecclesiastical council; it was attended by the archbishops of Aquileia (by deputy), of Milan, of Ravenna, and Hamburg; by two German and two French metropolitans; by a great number of bishops and presbyters from Lombardy, Tuscany, and all parts of Italy. The whole militia of Rome assembled as a guard to the council round the church of St. Peter. The proceedings of the council mark the times. Inquiry was made why the pope was not present. A general cry of astonishment broke forth from the clergy and the people: “The very Iberians, Babylonians, and Indians have heard the monstrous crimes of the pope. He is not a wolf who condescends to sheep’s clothing; his cruelty, his diabolical dealings are open, avowed, disdain concealment.” The calmer justice of the emperor demanded specific charges. The cardinal presbyter rose and declared that he had seen Pope John celebrate mass without himself communicating. Another, that he had ordained a bishop in a stable; that he had taken bribes for the consecration of bishops, and had ordained a bishop of Todi who was but ten years old. “For his sacrileges, all eyes might behold them;” they alluded, probably, to the dilapidation of the churches, which were open to the weather, and so much out of repair that the worshippers could not assemble from fear lest the roofs should fall on their heads.

Darker charges followed, mingled with less heinous, in strange confusion, charges of adultery, incest, with the names of the females, one his father’s concubines, another a widow and her niece; he had made the Lateran palace a brothel; he had been guilty of hunting; charges of cruelty, the blinding of one dignified ecclesiastic, the castrating another, both had died under the operation; he had let loose fire and sword, and appeared himself constantly armed with sword, lance, helmet, and breast-plate. Both ecclesiastics and laymen accused him of drinking wine for the love of the devil; of invoking, when gambling, heathen deities, the devils Jove and Venus. He had perpetually neglected matins and vespers, and never signed himself with the sign of the cross.

The emperor could speak only German; he commanded the bishop of Cremona to address the assembly in Latin. Liutprand warned the council, he adjured them by the blessed Virgin and by St. Peter, not to bring vague accusations, nor such as could not be supported by accredited testimony, against the holy father. Bishops, deacons, clergy, and people with one voice replied, “If we do not prove these and more crimes against the pope, may St. Peter, who holds the keys of heaven, close the gates against us; may we be stricken with anathema, and may the anathema be ratified at the day of judgment!” They appealed to the whole army of Otto, whether they had not seen the pope in full armour on the other side of the Tiber; but for the river he had been taken in that attire.

Letters were sent summoning the pope to answer to these accusations; accusations some of them so obscene that they would have been thought immodest if made against stage-players. If the pope dreaded any assault from the enraged multitude, the emperor answered for the security of his person. The pope’s reply was brief, contemptuous: “John, the servant of God, to all the bishops. We hear that you design to elect a new pope; if you do, in the name of Almighty God, I excommunicate you; and forbid you to confer orders or to celebrate mass!”

Thrice was Pope John cited before the council. Messengers were sent to Tivoli; the answer was, “The pope was gone out to shoot.” Unprecedented evils demand unprecedented remedies. The emperor was urged to expel this new Judas from the seat of the apostle, and to sanction a new election. Leo, the chief secretary of the Roman see, was unanimously chosen, though a layman, in the room of the apostate John XII.

But the army of Otto, a feudal army, and bound to do service for a limited period, began to diminish; part had been injudiciously dispersed on distant enterprises; the Romans, as usual, soon grew weary of a foreign, a German yoke. The emissaries of Pope John watched the opportunity; a furious insurrection of the people broke out against the emperor and his pope. The valour of Otto, who forced the barricades of the bridge over the Tiber, subdued the rebellion (964). He took a terrible revenge. The supplications of Leo with difficulty arrested the carnage. Otto soon after left Rome, and marched towards Camerino (Camerinum) and Spoleto in pursuit of King Adalbert. The king Berengar and his wife Willa were taken in the castle of St. Leo, and sent into Germany.

[Sidenote: [964-966 A.D.]]

Hardly, however, had Otto left the city when a new rebellion, organised by the patrician females of Rome, rose on the defenceless Leo, and opened the gates of the city to John. Leo with difficulty escaped to the camp of Otto. The remorseless John re-entered the city, resumed his pontifical state, seized and mutilated the leaders of the imperial party; of one he cut off the right hand, of another the tongue, the nose, and two fingers; in this plight they appeared in the imperial camp. An obsequious synod reversed the decrees of that which had deposed John. The Roman people had now embraced the cause of the son of Alberic with more resolute zeal; for the emperor was compelled to delay till he could reassemble a force powerful enough to undertake the siege of the city. Ere this, however, his own vices had delivered Rome from her champion or her tyrant, Christendom from her worst pontiff. While he was pursuing his amours in a distant part of the city, Pope John XII was struck dead (May 14th, 964), by the hand of God, as the more religious supposed; others, by a more natural cause, the poniard of an injured husband.

But it was a Roman or Italian, perhaps a republican feeling which had latterly attached the citizens to the son of Alberic, not personal love or respect for his pontifical character. They boldly proceeded at once, without regard to the emperor, to the election of a new pope, Benedict V. Otto soon appeared before the walls; he summoned the city, and ordered every Roman who attempted to escape to be mutilated. The republic was forced to surrender. Benedict, the new pope, was brought before the emperor. The cardinal archdeacon, who had adhered to the cause of Leo, demanded by what right he had presumed to usurp the pontifical robes during the life-time of Leo, the lawful pope. “If I have sinned,” said the humbled prelate, “have mercy upon me.” The emperor is said to have wept. Benedict threw himself before the feet of Otto, drew off the sacred pallium, and delivered up his crosier to Leo. Leo broke it, and showed it to the people. Benedict was degraded to the order of deacon and sent into banishment in Germany. He died at Hamburg.

The grateful, or vassal pope, in a council, recognises the full right of the emperor Otto and his successors in the kingdom of Italy, as Adrian that of Charlemagne, to elect his own successors to the empire and to approve the pope. This right was to belong forever to the king of the Roman Empire, and to none else.

Early in the next year the emperor Otto recrossed the Alps. Leo VIII died March, 965, and a deputation from Rome followed the emperor to Germany to solicit the reinstatement of the exiled Benedict to the popedom. But Benedict was dead also. The bishop of Narni (John XIII), with the approbation or by the command of the emperor, was elected to the papacy.

[Sidenote: [966-974 A.D.]]

Scarcely had John XIII assumed the pontificate than the barons and the people began to murmur against the haughtiness of the new pontiff. They expelled him from the city with one consent. The prefect Rotfred, not without personal insult to the pope, assumed the government of Rome; for ten months John XIII was an exile from his see, at first a prisoner, afterwards in freedom. From his retreat in Campania he wrote with urgent entreaty to the emperor. Otto made the cause of John his own; for the third time he descended the Alps; the terror of his approach appalled the popular faction. In a counter insurrection in favour of the pope, Rotfred the prefect was killed, and the gates opened to the pontiff; he was received with hymns of joy and gratulation. At Christmas Otto entered Rome; and the emperor and the pope wreaked a terrible vengeance at that holy season on the rebellious city. The proud Roman titles seemed but worthy of derision to the German emperor and his vassal pope. The body of the prefect who had expelled John from the city was dug up out of his grave and torn to pieces. The consuls escaped with banishment beyond the Alps; but the twelve tribunes were hanged; the actual prefect was set upon an ass, with a wine-bag on his head, led through the streets, scourged, and thrown into prison. All Europe, hardened as it was to acts of inhumanity, shuddered at these atrocities.

The rebellion was crushed for a time; during the five remaining years of John’s pontificate the presence of Otto overawed the refractory Romans. He ruled in peace. At his death the undisturbed vacancy of the see for three months implies the humble consultation of Otto’s wishes (he had now returned to Germany) on the appointment of his successor.

The choice fell on Benedict VI, as usual of Roman birth (January 19th, 973). The factions of Rome now utterly baffle conjecture as to their motives, as to the passions, not the principles, which actuated their leaders. Twice (the second time after an interval of ten years, during which he was absent from Rome), the same man, a cardinal deacon, seizes and murders two popes; sets himself up as supreme pontiff; but though with power to commit these enormities, he cannot maintain on either occasion his ill-won tiara.

The formidable Otto the Great died the year of the accession of Benedict VI (December 25th, 967). Otto II, whose character was as yet unknown, had succeeded to the imperial throne; he had been already the colleague of his father in the empire. He had been crowned at Rome by Pope John XIII.

[Sidenote: [974-985 A.D.]]

The year after the accession of Otto II, on a sudden, Boniface, surnamed Francone, described as the son of Ferruccio, a name doubtless well known to his contemporaries, seized the unsuspecting pope Benedict and cast him into a dungeon (July, 974), where shortly after he was strangled. Boniface assumed the papacy, but he had miscalculated the strength of his faction; in one month he was forced to fly the city. Yet he fled not with so much haste but that he carried off all the treasures, even the sacred vessels from the church of St. Peter. He found his way to Constantinople, where he might seem to have been forgotten in his retreat. The peaceful succession of Benedict VII, the nephew or grandson of the famous Alberic, may lead to the conclusion that the faction of that family still survived, and was opposed to that of Boniface. The first act of Benedict, as might be expected, was the assembling a council for the excommunication of the murderer and anti-pope Boniface. This is the first and last important act in the barren annals of Pope Benedict VII. Under the protection of the emperor Otto II, or by the strength of his Roman faction, he retained peaceful possession of the see for nine years, an unusual period of quiet. He was succeeded, no doubt through the influence of the emperor, by John XIV, who was no Roman, but bishop of Pavia. But in the year of John’s accession (983), Otto II was preparing a great armament to avenge a terrible defeat by the Saracens. He had hardly fled from the conquering Saracens, and made his escape from a Greek ship by leaping into the sea and swimming ashore. He now threatened with all the forces of the realm to bridge the Straits of Messina, and reunite Sicily to the empire of the West. In the midst of his preparations he died at Rome.

The fugitive Boniface Francone had kept up his correspondence with Rome; he might presume on the unpopularity of a pontiff, if not of German birth, imposed by foreign influence, and now deprived of his all-powerful protector. With the same suddenness as before, he reappeared in Rome, seized the pope, imprisoned him in the castle of St. Angelo, of which important fortress he had become master, and there put him to death by starvation or by poison (August 20th, 984). He exposed the body to the view of the people, who dared not murmur. He seated himself, as it seems, unresisted, in the papal chair. The holy see was speedily delivered from this murderous usurper. He died suddenly. The people revenged themselves for their own base acquiescence in his usurpation by cowardly insults on his dead body; it was dragged through the streets, and at length buried, either by the compassion or the attachment (for Boniface must have had a powerful faction in Rome) of certain ecclesiastics. These bloody revolutions could not but destroy all reverence for their ecclesiastical rulers in the people of Rome.[g]

CHARLES KINGSLEY ON TEMPORAL POWER

A united Italy suited the views of the popes then no more than it does now. Not only did they conceive of Rome as still the centre of the western world, but more, their stock in trade was at Rome. The chains of St. Peter, the sepulchres of St. Peter and St. Paul, the catacombs filled with the bones of innumerable martyrs--these were their stock in trade. By giving these, selling these, working miracles with these, calling pilgrims from all parts of Christendom to visit these _in situ_, they kept up their power and their wealth.

Having obtained what they wanted from Pepin and Charlemagne, it was still their interest to pursue the same policy; to compound for their own independence, as they did with Charlemagne and his successors, by defending the pretences of foreign kings to the sovereignty of the rest of Italy. This has been their policy for centuries. It is their policy still; and that policy has been the curse of Italy. This fatal gift of the patrimony of St. Peter--as Dante saw, as Machiavelli saw, as all clear-sighted Italians have seen--has kept her divided, torn by civil wars, conquered and reconquered by foreign invaders. Unable, as a celibate ecclesiastic, to form his dominions into a strong hereditary kingdom; unable as the hierophant of a priestly caste to unite his people in the bonds of national life; unable, as Borgia tried to do, to conquer the rest of Italy for himself, and form it into a kingdom large enough to have weight in the balance of power, the pope was forced, again and again, to keep himself on his throne by intriguing with foreign princes, and calling in foreign arms; and the bane of Italy, from the time of Stephen III to that of Pius IX, was the temporal power of the pope. But on the popes, also, the Nemesis came. In building their power on the Roman relics, on the fable that Rome was the patrimony of Peter, they had built on a lie; and that lie avenged itself.

Having committed themselves to the false position of being petty kings of a petty kingdom, they had to endure continual treachery and tyranny from their foreign allies--to see not merely Italy, but Rome itself, insulted and even sacked by faithful Catholics, and to become more and more, as the centuries rolled on, the tools of those very kings whom they had wished to make their tools.

True, they defended themselves long, and with astonishing skill and courage. Their sources of power were two, the moral and the thaumaturgic, and they used them both; but when the former failed, the latter became useless. As long as their moral power was real; as long as they and their clergy were on the whole, in spite of enormous faults, the best men in Europe, so long the people believed in them, and in their thaumaturgic relics likewise. But they became by no means the best men in Europe. Then they began to think that after all it was more easy to work the material than the moral power--easier to work the bones than to work righteousness. They were deceived. Behold! when the righteousness was gone, the bones refused to work. People began to question the virtue of the bones, and to ask, “We can believe that the bones may have worked miracles for good men, but for bad men? We will examine whether they work any miracles at all.” And then, behold, it came out that the bones did not work miracles, and that possibly they were not saints’ bones at all; and then the storm came; and the lie, as all lies do, punished itself. That salt had lost its savour. They who had been the light of Europe, became its darkness; they who had been first, became last; a warning to mankind until the end of time, that on truth and virtue depends the only abiding strength.[h]

FOOTNOTES

[91] Another ecclesiastic of the same name was elected by the people immediately after the death of Zacharias; but he did not live to enjoy his elevation. On the third morning after his election he was struck with apoplexy, and as he had not been consecrated, he is sometimes omitted in the pontifical calendar. See Platina,[i] p. 152, and Fleury.[j] Baronius[k] appears to say that the omission of his name is wrong.