Part 12

In a letter written to Thalassia, abbess of the convent which Brunehaut founded in the city of Autun, Saint Gregory sets forth the privileges and the manner of electing a woman to that office. He says: "We indulge, grant and confirm by decree of our present authority, privileges as follows: Ordaining that no king, no bishop, no one endowed with any dignity whatsoever, shall have power, under show of any cause or occasion whatsoever, to diminish or take away, or apply to his own uses, or grant as if to other pious uses for excuse of his own avarice, anything of what has been given to the monastery by the above-written king's children, or of what shall in future be bestowed on it by any others whatever of their own possessions. But all things that have been there offered, or may come to be offered, we will to be possessed by thee, as well as those who shall succeed thee in thy office and place, from the present time inviolate and without disturbance, provided thou apply them in all ways to the uses of those for whose sustenance and government they have been granted." The use and benefit of papal supremacy is beginning to be seen. This cumbrous legal enactment conferred upon Thalassia a life lease and freehold in the property of her convent, as secure as the tithes of his parish are to an English incumbent.

In this same letter, which was written some time in the latter part of the sixth century, there is also a clause concerning the election of an abbess. There is to be nothing crafty or secret about it. The election is to be conducted in the fear of God. The king is to choose such a woman as will meet with the approval of the nuns; she is then to be ordained by the bishop. This all goes to show that, even in those early times, for a woman who was willing to forego the attractions of married life, or was unwilling to accept its cares, the position of abbess was one which might well stir the ambitious. But, however that might be, in the same letter, Gregory, who evidently knew the weaknesses of human nature, prevented the questionable methods which the ambitious might be tempted to adopt. "No one," he says, "of the kings, no one of the priests, or any one else in person or by proxy, shall dare to accept anything in gold, or in any kind of consideration whatever, for the ordination of such abbess, or for any causes whatever pertaining to this monastery, and that the same abbess presume not to give anything on account of her ordination, lest by such occasion what is offered or has been offered to places of piety should be consumed. And inasmuch as many occasions for the deception of religious women are sought out, as is said, in your parts by bad men, we ordain that an abbess of this same monastery shall in no wise be deprived or deposed unless in case of criminality requiring it. Hence, it is necessary that if any complaint of this kind should arise against her, not only the bishop of the city of Autun should examine the case, but that he should call to his assistance six other of his fellow-bishops, and so fully investigate the matter to the end that, all judging with one accord, a strict canonical decision may either smite if guilty, or absolve her if innocent." A law against any wrong always predicates the existence of that fault. Hence, the prohibitions we have quoted could not have been of unknown occurrence among the fellow abbesses of Thalassia.

Through other letters we learn that it was in contradiction of monastic rule for those embracing that life to retain property of their own after profession, or even the power of disposing of it by will; it became the property of the convent. It appears, also, that if a nun were transferred from one monastery to another, or if, as sometimes happened, a consecrated virgin living at home had lapsed and was therefore sent to a monastery, her property always went to the convent in which she at that present time resided. This was so strictly enforced that when one Sirica, abbess at Caralis, made a will and distributed her property, Gregory ordered that it be restored to the monastery without dispute or evasion. As many women of position were induced to become nuns, it is easy to be seen how the convents quickly acquired great wealth.

All the abbesses did not consider themselves slavishly bound to follow the uniform rule. In the letter just mentioned, the same Sirica is seen to have manifested a refreshing independence in relation to other matters in regard to which a woman does not take kindly to outside interference. Gregory says: "And when we enquired of the Solicitude of your Holiness why you endured that property belonging to the monastery should be detained by others, our common son Epiphanius, your archpresbyter, being present before us, replied that the said abbess had up to the day of her death refused to wear the monastic dress, but had continued in the use of such dresses as are used by the presbyteresses of that place. To this the aforesaid Gavina replied that the practice had come to be almost lawful from custom, alleging that the abbess who had been before the above-mentioned Sirica had used such dresses. When, then, we begun to feel no small doubt with regard to the character of the dresses, it appeared necessary for us to consider with our legal advisers, as well as with the other learned men of this city, what was to be done with regard to law. And they, having considered the matter, answered that, after an abbess had been solemnly ordained by the bishop and had presided in the government of a monastery for many years until the end of her life, the character of her dress might attach blame to the bishop for having allowed it so to be, but still could not prejudice the monastery." Those "presbyteresses" whose attire Sirica considered she had ample right to copy, were the wives of presbyters who had been married before ordination. It is all very trivial; and yet there is to be recognized such a touch of naturalness about this abbess of thirteen centuries ago that it is worthy of remark. And it must be confessed that Sirica has our entire approval as we fancy we see her going calmly about the duties of her office, while Pope Gregory of Rome is calling together his legal advisers to know what shall be done about her dress, she all the while determined that she is going to array herself in exactly that style which, to her independent mind, seems most befitting.

When, however, serious faults on the part of nuns had to be dealt with, Gregory possessed, even in that early day, the power as well as the will to inflict punishment of a severe nature. Moreover, the Church had become what Rome was in the time of the emperors,--so universal and thoroughly organized that culprits could not hope to flee beyond the reach of the disciplinary hand. Petronilla, a nun of Lucania, had given way to the weakness of nature and the seducements of Agnellus, the son of a bishop. Taking the property which Petronilla had brought to the monastery, and also that which the father of Agnellus had given to the institution, they fled to Sicily in the hope of there enjoying love and affluence in their mutual companionship and that of their child. But Gregory's supervision was as far-reaching as was the power of his hand. He writes to Cyprian, Deacon and Rector of Sicily, "to cause the aforesaid man, and the above-named woman, to be summarily brought before thee, and institute a most thorough investigation into the case. And, if thou shouldest find it to be as reported to us, determine an affair defiled by so many iniquities with the utmost severity of expurgation; to the end that both strict retribution may overtake the man, who has regarded neither his own nor her condition, and that, she having been first punished and consigned to a monastery under penance, all the property that had been taken away from the above-named place, with all its fruits and accessions, may be restored." What the exact nature of the penance inflicted was we do not know; but in another place, speaking of nuns who had been detected in the same fault, the great bishop orders that they "afford an example of the more rigorous kind of discipline, such as may inspire fear in others." The Church had already acquired the power to enforce its artificial morality, which power it vigorously employed on those with whom it could afford to be at no pains to ingratiate itself.

Rigid disciplinarian as he was, and zealous in his labors to aggrandize the Church, Gregory was careful not to allow the privileges of monasticism to be pushed to the endangering, as he thought, of the moral welfare of those whom it concerned. The law was that if either a husband or a wife decided to devote himself or herself to the monastic life, the marriage bonds might be severed without the consent of the other partner. But in a letter which he wrote to a notary of Panormus and sent by the hand of a woman named Agathosa, he refers to the latter's claim that her husband had entered a monastery without her consent. He instructs the notary "to investigate the matter by diligent enquiry, so as to see whether it may not be the case that the man's profession was with her consent, or that she herself had promised to change her state. And should it be found to be so, see to his remaining in the monastery, and compel her to change her state, as she had promised. If, however, neither of these things is the case, and you do not find that the aforesaid woman has committed any crime of fornication on account of which it is lawful for a man to leave his wife, then, lest his profession should possibly be an occasion of perdition to the wife left behind in the world, we desire thee, without any excuse allowed, to restore her husband to her, even though he should be already tonsured." It is quite noticeable that the bishop would much prefer that the woman follow her husband's example and embrace the monastic life. It is possible that Gregory, in addition to his constant zeal in gaining recruits for this vocation, realized, personally inexperienced though he was in such matters, that the wife would find but cold comfort in the enforced embraces of a husband who preferred the monks of a religious house to her own society. Still, even in the case of a professed nun who had been forcibly compelled to marry against her will, he did not suggest that the matrimonial bonds should be severed without the consent of the enterprising husband, but only that she should have the right, after providing for her children, to devote the residue of her property to the Church to which she would gladly have sacrificed her whole life.

In those parts of the Christian world to which the authority of Pope Gregory did not extend, monasticism showed some peculiarities that were very dissimilar to the Benedictine rule. Perhaps the most striking of these is to be seen in the ancient British Church, that apostolic foundation which, until after the Saxon conquest, had never come under the influence of the Roman See. At Whitby, in Yorkshire, Saint Hild, the daughter of a king, reared a monastery which included, under her own personal government, both men and women. In adjoining buildings, nuns and monks lived in contemplative retirement, their life and studies superintended by this gifted woman, whose wisdom was such that her counsel was eagerly sought by the highest nobles in the land. Her institution was a training school for bishops and priests, as well as a haven of religious recreation for women of the world. That her rule was salutary, and this combination not prejudicial to good living, seems to be proved by the fact that she included among those who were trained under her supervision John of Beverly, who was as famous for his holiness as for his learning.

Thus, monasticism became an increasingly powerful factor in the social life of that far distant age. The importance of the institution lay in its complete universality. Wherever was found the Christian Church, there also was the religious house, a harbor of sanctity, presided over by an abbess chosen for her piety and strength of mind, filled with women who were not loath to forsake the pleasures of the world for the love of peace and divine contemplation. From the Eternal City where Gregory was reviving in religious guise that power which for so many centuries had dominated the world, and where alone was retained what remained of a departed civilization, to Streonshealh where Hild, daughter of barbaric chiefs, reared her abbey on the summit of the dark cliffs of Whitby, looking out over the gloom of the Northern Sea, these convents represented what was then considered as the acme of feminine attainment.

That feminine monasticism had its uses and conferred its benefits it would be an absurdity to deny. Despite the falsity of the unnatural moral theory which supplied too largely its motive, monasticism was an outward and visible sign of that human evolution which makes for progress. The selfishness of its spiritual aims was in accord with the strenuous individualism of that new age; its dualistic theory of nature was at least a revolt from the brutal animalism of the day. Moreover, it furnished the only opportunity that human life then afforded for calm and concentrated reflection on any subject save eating, breeding, and killing. The monastery was the bridge by which the salvage from the dissolution of ancient civilization was carried over the Dark Ages to the Renaissance.

When we seek for the peculiar benefits monasticism provided for women, they are found to be two. The universally recognized sanctity of the cloister provided, in an age of exceeding brutality, a sanctuary where woman might take refuge, and where something at least of the spirituality of her nature might be neither outraged nor obliterated. It may be that, after all unfavorable judgments have been passed, if it had not been for the veneration of cloistered virginity, in so rude an age the world might have forgotten what modesty and purity are. Also, it is not favorable to the highest development of womanhood to be absolutely restricted to the one vocation of marriage. If, to-day, women are not better wives, they surely are more self-respecting for the fact that there is a possibility of their being independent and yet remain unmarried. What business now does for woman, in the olden times was done by the female monastery: it provided examples of the sex, who were glorious, and yet unmarried. The woman crossed in love, or the girl threatened with a union repugnant to her feelings, could say: "I will be a nun," and thereby gain the highest esteem of the world.

VII

WOMEN WHO WITNESSED THE FALL OF ROME

The Empire had forfeited its right to take its title from the ancient city on the Tiber long before its final dismemberment. Constantine had removed his court and capital to the Bosphorus, and there the metropolis of the East remained. The Western emperors established their courts in various parts of Europe, their locations being usually determined by the exigences of rivalry and the territorial success of their usurpation. Roman citizenship had become universal and at the same time meaningless: it represented no privileges other than the bare fact that its owner was not a slave. The freedom it conferred was only relative and, to a very great extent, merely theoretical; practically, all were the slaves of the emperor. The race of Romulus had degenerated into a pretentious but pusillanimous aristocracy, who desired no title to glory save that found in pedigree. There was not left in them sufficient virility to set up, much less to maintain, an emperor of their own race; their rulers were of barbarian extraction. The Roman army was a cosmopolitan aggregation, in which Italy was the least represented of the provinces. Ammianus Marcellinus, the historian, writing late in the fourth century, says: "The modern nobles measure their rank and consequence according to the loftiness of their chariots and the weighty magnificence of their dress. Their long robes of silk and purple float in the wind; and as they are agitated by art or accident, they occasionally discover the under-garments, the rich tunics, embroidered with the figures of various animals." Gibbon notes that the more pious coxcombs substituted the figure of some favorite saint. Ammianus goes on to describe how, "followed by a train of fifty servants, and tearing up the pavement, they move along the streets with the same impetuous speed as if they travelled with post-horses; and the example of the senators is boldly imitated by the matrons and ladies, whose covered carriages are continually driving round the immense space of the city and suburbs. Whenever these persons of high distinction condescend to visit the public baths, they assume, on their entrance, a tone of loud and insolent command, and appropriate to their exclusive use the conveniences which were designed for the Roman people. If, in these places of mixed and general resort, they meet any of the infamous ministers of their pleasures, they express their affection by a tender embrace; while they proudly disdain the salutation of their fellow-citizens who are not permitted to aspire above the honor of kissing their hands or their knees. As soon as they have indulged themselves in the refreshment of the bath, they resume their rings and the other ensigns of their dignity, select from their private wardrobe (of the finest linen, and of a quantity such as might suffice for a dozen persons), the garments most agreeable to their fancy, and maintain till their departure the same haughty demeanor.... The acquisition of knowledge seldom engages the attention of nobles, who abhor the fatigue and disdain the advantages of study. The libraries which they have inherited from their fathers are secluded, like dreary sepulchres, from the light of day. The art of obtaining the signature of a favorable testament, and sometimes of hastening the moment of its execution, is perfectly understood; and it has happened that in the same house, though in different apartments, a husband and a wife, with the laudable design of over-reaching each other, have summoned their respective lawyers, to declare, at the same time, their mutual but contradictory wishes."

It is probable that Ammianus, with the disdain which students are apt to affect toward the unphilosophic multitude, has exaggerated the disregard of the Roman nobility for books. We have seen that many of the female friends of Jerome were most ardent lovers of literature; and the Christian Fathers constantly evince an expectation of finding among their female followers an enthusiastic reading public. These women read theological works; it is not unreasonable to suppose that their less heavenly-minded sisters were as assiduous students of the classical secular books.

We have the names and somewhat of the history of a few of the women who lived in this period, but they are all from the highest and most conspicuous society. History loves a shining mark. If the chroniclers of the time had favored us with a detailed descriptive account of the life of the common people, it would have been of more value than that of many nobles.

The population of Rome at this time has been estimated at between one million two hundred thousand and two million. This, of course, includes the vast army of slaves, which remained undiminished after the change of the national religion. But there was also a great horde of free, poor plebeians, who were the perpetual paupers of the government. These lived in the same careless, indigent idleness as had the same class in preceding centuries. They inhabited tenements not unlike those known to the great cities of modern times. These houses were of several stories, each tenement sheltering a number of families. That they were exceedingly uncomfortable is easy to believe, seeing that even the wealthy of ancient times, notwithstanding the architectural grandeur which they could command, were ignorant of the ordinary modern domestic conveniences. The free working class of the present day was then practically unknown: that place was taken by the slaves. So the poverty-stricken Roman citizen was both necessarily and willingly unemployed. Generally, however, corn, wine, and oil were supplied him with little or no expense to himself. Each morning, at a set time, his wife would repair to a prescribed station in the district, and there, on showing a citizen's ticket, she would receive a three-pound loaf of bread. So indulgent was the government, that it ground and baked the allowance which at one time was made in the shape of corn. During five months in the year there was also distributed, to the poorer people, an allowance of pork; the annual consumption of this kind of meat in Rome was three million six hundred and twenty-eight thousand pounds. When the populace had clamored before Augustus for free wine as well as bread, that wise and firm ruler reminded them that since his friend Agrippa had brought into the city a bountiful supply of pure water, no Roman need complain of thirst. But those emperors who denuded Roman citizenship entirely of its right of suffrage yet had an interest in keeping the populace quiet and contented; hence, in the fourth century there existed public cellars from whence was dispensed, at a small cost to the inhabitants of Rome, the fermented vintage of Campania.

It was also necessary, the people being idle, that they should be amused. There were the magnificent public baths where they could while away the time in luxury and gossip. But the amusement with which the multitude was never satiated was found in the exhibitions of the circus. On special occasions, many would sleep in the porticoes near by, in order to be the first on hand to obtain seats in the morning. The immense amphitheatre would accommodate four hundred thousand. Christianity abolished the gladiatorial combat of former times; but there still remained the exciting and perilous chariot race and the hunting and fighting of wild beasts. Nor had Christianity been able to purify the stage to any great extent. The Muses of Tragedy and a statelier comedy were entirely abandoned for licentious farces. No fewer than three thousand female dancers were occupied in the theatres of Rome. At a time of famine when all strangers were banished from the city, and also the teachers of the liberal arts, these dancers were exempted by the edict.