LEO III
A.D. 795-816.
EMPERORS OF THE EAST. EMPERORS OF
THE WEST.
Constantine VI (Porphyrogenitus), 780-797 Charlemagne (King of the
Franks) 771-800.
Irene, 797-802. (Emperor), 800-814.
Nicephorus, 802-811. Louis,
the Pious or Debonnaire, 814-840.
Michael I, 811-813.
Leo V, 813-820.
THE period of the history of the papacy, co-extensive
with the duration of the Carolingian Empire (795-891), opens under very
different external conditions to those which its preceding period (590-795)
commenced. During the latter epoch the popes were the nominal subjects at least
of the emperors at Constantinople, whose representatives were installed in the
crumbling palace on the Palatine. Their election had to be confirmed by them,
and their lives and liberties were dependent on their whims. Italy, the center
of the papal power, was divided between the rude Lombard and the grasping
Byzantine.
But now all this was changed; no longer did the
presence among them of a Byzantine duke remind the Romans that their lord and
master was a Greek Basileus on the shores of the Bosphorus; no longer were the
effigies of the descendants of Constantine received in Rome with the respectful
submission due to their prototypes, and placed with honor in the chapel of S. Cesario in Palatio; and no longer
did the coins of Rome, by their image and inscription, proclaim that it owed
tribute to Caesar. The Byzantine power had vanished from the Eternal City, and,
with the exception of Calabria and of a few isolated places (e,g. Naples, Hydruntum, etc.) in
S. Italy, from the whole of the peninsula. Rome and Italy had now new masters.
Leaving out of account the parts just mentioned and Venice, which was a
practically independent state under the protection of Constantinople, the
provinces of Italy were in the hands of the Pope and of the Frank. The former,
now free in every sense of the word, was lord of Rome and its duchy (along with
the southern portion of Tuscany to Populonium), of
the old Exarchate of Ravenna, including the Pentapolis, and of the duchy of
Perusia (Perugia), which connected these two nearly equal strips of territory.
The donations of Pippin and Charlemagne gave him claims over various other
portions of Italy; but the rest of the peninsula was, in fact, ruled by the
Frankish, either in person or by the intermediary of subject Lombard dukes. In
place, then, of being a subject insulted and oppressed by the domineering Greek
and terrified by the savage Lombards he was an independent ruler honored and protected
by the grateful Frank.
Rome, which already in the days of the first Gregory
was falling to pieces, was now, phoenix-like, springing from its ashes into new
life and splendor. During the prosperous reign of Leo, its “ever-increasing
decay”, which St. Gregory had mourned and which had received a great check in
the time of Hadrian, was still further arrested. The city was, in fact, furnished
with a new lease of life.
What was true of Rome was true of the world at large
both in the East and West. It seemed to Gregory I that “the world was fast
sinking into the grave by its ever-multiplying maladies”. But now its demise
seems far distant. In the West the genius and strong right arm of Charlemagne,
combined with the industry and intelligence of his ministers, were evolving
order out of chaos; and in the history of the long decay and successive
dismemberment of the Eastern Empire, it would appear that at this epoch the
effects of the revival in the eighth century are still being felt. At any rate,
before the close of this century, which Pope Leo III was to inaugurate in so
striking a manner, there will have been begun under the Macedonian dynasty a
splendid period of expansion for the Byzantine Empire—the last, however, which its
annals will have to record.
But though all this is true, and though, in the main,
the epoch which is now to engage our attention was a glorious one for the
papacy, it must not be supposed that it was entering a millennium. As in the
life of man every age has its peculiar diseases, so in the existences of
dynasties and states every period has its difficulties and dangers. The
troubles of the papacy were henceforth, for a long period, to arise rather from
within than from without. The great increase of temporal power and wealth which
had just come into its hands had fired fresh ambitions. Powerful families arose
in Rome whose members would fain, by fair means or foul, keep the papacy or, at
least, its power and possessions in their own grasp. As long as the Frankish
protectors of the See of Peter were strong, these evils were kept to some
extent in check. But when they in their turn grew feeble, when the Carolingian
empire went finally to pieces towards the close of the ninth century, the
papacy fell upon evil times indeed. The savage attack upon Leo III by the
relations of his predecessor, which we shall soon have to narrate, and the
terrible death said to have been inflicted on John VIII, are indications of
what will befall the popes when, if not the halcyon days, at any rate the
comparatively bright times, of the ninth century shall have passed away.
On the very day that Hadrian was buried (December 26,
of 795), Leo, the cardinal priest of S. Susanna and vestiarius (or vestararius), or
chief of the pontifical treasury, one of the principal officials of the papal
court, was elected to succeed him. That he was, moreover, unanimously elected
was asserted by him in a letter to Charlemagne, and is also definitely affirmed
by his biographer. As there was now no necessity for waiting for any imperial
confirmation of the election, he was duly consecrated on the following day.
He who was thus by the suffrage of all raised to the
See of Peter was a Roman and the son of Atyuppius and
Elisabeth. At a very early age he had been attached to the treasury department
of the Lateran, and had therein been brought up and trained. The barbaric name
of his father, coupled with the fact that nothing is said in the Liber
Pontificalis about his having any aristocratic connections, gives some color to
the conjecture that he was of a more or less plebeian origin. An incidental
notice of his biographer informs us that he was ordained priest in the Church
of S. Susanna on the Quirinal, a church which, as Pope, he took care to enlarge
and enrich, and of which it will have been noticed he was the titular priest at
the time of his election to the papacy.
According to the Book of the Popes, he was chaste,
eloquent, and of a persevering disposition; well versed, as a priest should be,
in the Sacred Scriptures and in psalmody, and very fond of the society of the
pious. A great almsgiver himself, he was wont, when visiting the sick, which he
was in the habit of doing most regularly, to exhort them to redeem their souls
by alms. Whatever was entrusted to him in this way, he used to distribute to
the poor in secret, as well by night as by day. It was by conduct such as this
that, whilst he was occupied with the care of the vestments, money, and plate
in the papal vestiarium or treasury, he became the beloved of all. These were the arts which secured
him a unanimous election to the chair of Peter.
After he became Pope, he showed himself a defender of
the property of the Church and ever ready to face difficulties. Over merciful,
slow to anger, quick to forgive, never returning evil for evil, nor even
exacting full punishment when punishment was justly due, but on the contrary,
gentle and tender-hearted, he strove to render their due to all—aye, and even
more than their due. For we read that he greatly increased the pecuniary
presents (presbiteria)
which the popes were in the habit of making to the Roman clergy at Easter and
other times.
Such is what one who knew him, who perchance worked by
his side in the vestiarium,
says of Leo III. It will be important to bear some of these traits of his
character in mind, as it is most likely that they were the cause of much of the
suffering which fell to his unfortunate lot. One of the weak points of
government by ecclesiastics will generally be that, in the always difficult
task of nicely adjusting mercy and justice, such rulers will be naturally too
prone to mercy. And if, moreover, justice has to be meted out by an
ecclesiastic who is by his own particular character already predisposed to be
too forgiving, the result will not be conducive to strong government. So, in
the absence of any ascertained cause for the violent behavior towards him of
Paschal and his fellow-conspirators, it is far from unlikely that a certain
amiable weakness in Leo’s character was to some extent, if not the cause, at
least the occasion of it.
There is, however, no doubt that the fact, that some
of the very phrases used by his biographer to put such a pleasing personality before
us were copied from previous papal lives, causes a suspicion to arise that we
are only gazing on an official portrait. The feeling is natural, but in the
present case apparently not well-grounded. Other standards have come down to us
by which we can judge him; and we find that he was not only honored and loved
by his successors, and praised by subsequent papal biographers, but extolled by
others outside the limits of the local Roman Church. Our own countryman,
Alcuin, never wearied of sounding his praises. He knows that the heart of the
Pope is all aglow with the fire of God’s love, and he would have him scatter
from it broadcast blazing sparks “to enkindle the torches of the Churches of
Christ”; and he does not think it right that the burning light of divine grace
which Leo possesses should be hidden beneath his prudent breast as beneath a
bushel. It must be set “on the candelabrum of the Apostolic See, that with
glorious effulgence it may shine on all”. Prose does not suffice this “angel
from Deira” to sound forth the virtues “of Christ’s
most clear-toned trumpet”. In elegiac verse he proclaims him “ a pursuer of
justice, a lover of true piety, bountiful to the poor”, and illustrious throughout
the whole world for his merits. Should this seem to some undeniably glowing,
but after all somewhat misty and vague, it must be noted that, if it is
bright-colored indeed, it is so because it is the outpouring of one “who ever loved as far as in him lay the most blessed
princes and pastors of the holy Roman See”. But the fact is that it is not
really hazy, because it is founded on exact reports sent to him from his
friends on the spot, of the religious and just life of his most clearly beloved
Pope Leo. Alcuin’s testimony is all the more valuable because, realizing that
it was for the Pope to illumine “the length and breadth of the Christian empire”,
he did not hesitate to exhort him not to allow “the hardest of toils to terrify
him nor any honied words of flattery to draw him off
the path of truth”. Knowing, too, the dangers attending the holding of considerable
temporal power, he begged him, with holy freedom, not to let “any greed of
worldly ambition silence the trumpet of his most sacred throat”. And no doubt,
in Charlemagne’s direct and indirect exhortations to Leo on his accession, of
which we shall speak presently, we are listening to the voice of his chief counselor
raised not in suspicion of the new Pope’s moral character, but in support of
it.
Leo lost no time after his election in notifying it to
Charlemagne. Along with the official notice of his election, he sent him
letters, presents, the keys of the confession of St. Peter, and the standard of
the city. He also begged him to send some authoritative person to receive
the oaths of fidelity due to him, as Patricius, from the Roman people. All this
was, of course, to induce him to continue his role as defender of the Roman
Church. For it was not an uncommon practice for religious houses to present “banners
to their defenders as symbols of armed advocacy”, and not as typifying that the
recipients of them were the lords and masters of those who sent them. That
Charlemagne inferred nothing more from the Pope’s presents is plain from his
letter of instructions to Angilbert, who had to take to Rome the king’s
acknowledgment of them. For it bears the superscription : “Charles, by the
grace of God, king and defender of his Holy Church”.
Its contents, however, while they set the zeal of the Frankish
monarch for the honor of God’s Church in a very favorable light, show that he
knew how to exercise that pious freedom towards its earthly head which enabled
St. Paul “to withstand St. Peter to the face”, and St. Bernard to send food for
reflection to Eugenius III. The youthful Homer, as Angilbert was called in
the literary circle of the court of Charlemagne, was instructed, whenever he
had a suitable opportunity and the Pope was in a mood to listen to him, to urge
upon the Apostolic lord, our father, the importance of his life being in
every way spotless, the strict observance of the holy canons, and the
obligation that lay upon him of governing the Holy Church of God well. The
worthy abbot was to impress upon Leo how short would be the time he could hold
the honor which now was his, but how endless would be the reward which would be
his if he labored well whilst he held it. He was also to exhort the Pope to do
all he could to suppress simony, which in many parts was doing so much harm in
the Church. Finally, the missus was not to forget to speak to the Pope about
the monastery which Charlemagne was anxious to build at St. Paul’s, and concerning
which he had already treated with Pope Hadrian. The minutes conclude with a
prayer that God will guide the heart of Leo, so that he may labor for the
advantage of the Church, may be a good father to the king, and may obtain for
him strength to do the will of God and to secure perpetual peace.
Angilbert was supplied not only with instructions as
to the matters he was to lay before the Pope, but with a letter for him which
was an answer to the one, now lost, which the king of the Franks had received
from him. In its superscription “Defender of the Church of God” is replaced by “Patricius
of the Romans”. Charlemagne begins by expressing his joy at learning from the
Pope’s letter and from the decree of election (decretali chartula) that Leo has been unanimously
elected, and has expressed his intention of being loyal to the king. After a
touching allusion to Pope Hadrian, whom he mourns not as one dead, but whom he
calls to mind as now living a better life with Christ, he rejoices that in Leo
there will be one who will daily pray to St. Peter both for the whole Church
and for the king and his people, and will adopt him as his son. The presents
which he had prepared to send to Hadrian he is now sending to him. “We have
instructed Angilbert as to everything which we would like for ourselves or is
necessary for you, that you may by mutual conference, decide what will tend to
the exaltation of the Holy Church of God, and to the strengthening of your honor
and of our patriciate. For as I concluded a treaty
with the most blessed predecessor of your holy paternity, so with your
blessedness I wish to make an inviolable treaty of the same faith and love, so
that I may obtain the apostolic benediction and the most holy See of the Roman
Church may be ever defended by our devotion”. He then goes on himself to define
his relations with the Church more exactly. “For it is our task to defend by
arms from without the Holy Church of Christ from the ravages of the pagan and
the infidel, and from within by the profession of the Catholic faith. It is
yours, lifting your hands to God with Moses, to help our warlike endeavors with
your prayers”. In conclusion, he entreats the Pope to let his light shine
before men.
The presents of which Angilbert was the bearer were “a
great part of the treasure which Eric, Duke of Friuli, had this same year (796)
offered to Charlemagne, and which he had taken from the camp of the Avars, who
were lords of Pannonia”. This great central camp, defended by a triple wall,
and situated near the river Theiss, was the place to
which the Avars, or Huns, had brought the fruit of their long series of
successful raids, and was known as “the Ring”. The loss of it broke their power
and put enormous wealth into the hands of Charlemagne, and thence into the
hands of the Pope. This gift of the Frank king undoubtedly helped Leo to be as
generous as he was to the churches of Rome.
Among the many letters of congratulation which Leo
would have received on his accession, it is very interesting to find that one
from our countryman Alcuin has survived the ravages of time. Begging Leo to
accept his letter, he continues : “I have loved, as much as in me lay, the most
blessed princes and pastors of the Holy Roman Church, desiring by their most
holy intercession to be numbered among the sheep of Christ, which after His
resurrection He entrusted to St. Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, to be fed
... Thou art, most holy father, the Pontiff elected by God, the Vicar of the
Apostles, the heir of the fathers, the ruler (princeps)
of the Church, the nourisher of the one immaculate
dove ... The position in which you are, makes you honored by all, the nobility
of your character praised by all, the devotion of your piety loved by all”.
Whether with the treasures of the Avars’ Ring or not, Leo
executed a work some time before the year 800, which aptly expresses the
relations between Charlemagne and himself which their first letters to each
other put before us. The King is the armed defender or protector of the Pope,
and as such receives from him a promise to adhere to the Frankish cause, as his
predecessors had done. The religious and political relationship between them is
admirably typified by the designs of the artists in mosaic employed by the
Pontiff. For the iconoclastic persecution had driven many Greek artists into
Italy, and rendered possible the renaissance of art, such as it was, which the popes
of this period fostered.
To the east of the great pile of buildings, of which
the Lateran Palace was even then composed, Leo erected a great hall, called
from its superior size the Triclinium majus. This he decorated with mosaics. Although in a
ruinous condition, it was still standing as late as the pontificate of Clement
XII (1730-40). Its mosaics had already been restored by Cardinal Barberini in 1625, but, of course, perished with the ruined Triclinium itself under Clement. Benedict XI V., his
successor, however, caused a copy of them to be made and placed under a tribune
against the side of the oratory Sancta
Sanctorum, to the north-east of the Lateran, where it may be seen to this
day, with three inscriptions in which these facts are set forth at length. This
he accomplished in 1743, from designs of it which had been drawn before its
destruction. Looking at the apsidal construction of Benedict XIV, there are to
be seen two groups of figures. The one on the left shows Our Lord giving the
keys to Pope St. Silvester and a standard to the
Emperor Constantine. A precisely similar group is depicted on the right. A
seated figure with a round nimbus, which the inscription, Scs. Petrus, sufficiently indicates as that of the Prince
of the Apostles, is presenting a pallium to Pope Leo, who is kneeling at his
right, and is distinguished by the inscription, Sanctissimus Dominus Leo Papa. Another kneeling figure on the left of the saint
is receiving from him into its right hand a standard. The letters Dn. Carulo Regi around its square
nimbus show that the figure is that of the famous King of the Franks. Beneath
the picture is a large tablet, on which, in the vulgar Latin of the period, is
a prayer to St. Peter calling upon him to grant life to the Pope and victory to
the King.
A year or two has to elapse before we hear of any
further communication between the Pope and Charlemagne. But about the beginning
of the year 798 the king gave his approval to the wishes of the Bavarian
bishops for an archbishop. To attach Bavaria still more closely to his kingdom,
he resolved to strengthen its ecclesiastical organization. For this
purpose he decided to establish an archbishopric; and selecting Arno of
Salzburg, the friend of Alcuin, to be its first occupant, sent him to Rome
along with other missi to receive the
pallium from the Pope. The Bavarian bishops, too, sent to make the same request
at the same time. Finding that Arno was all that could be desired both in
character and learning, he presented him with the pallium, and notified the
bishops and the kings that he had done as desired by them. In the opening
sentence of his letter to Charlemagne he unfolds the reason of his complying
with his request. “Inasmuch as through your laborious and royal efforts the
holy catholic and apostolic Roman Church, enriched with all good things, is
this day in glory, it is only proper that we should in every way comply with
your reasonable wishes”. It would appear that it was not long before the
bishops regretted that they had applied for a master, and that they endeavored,
as far as possible, to withdraw themselves from subjection to him. Accordingly,
when Arno again had occasion to go to Rome, he induced the Pope to write them a
letter exhorting them to obey their new metropolitan, and not to try to weaken
the bonds which united them to him by flying in their canonical differences to
the secular courts. He begged them to receive with joy, as their predecessors
had done, the decisions of the Apostolic See. “For as the Roman Church has
received authority from the decrees of the Holy Fathers, that, where
Christianity has spread, the vicar of Blessed Peter should have the power of
constituting an archbishop, so have we acted in your case. This holy See has
had the doing of this in view for a considerable period, but up till our time
it has been prevented by various causes from putting its wishes into effect”.
Now that a metropolitan has been given them, he exhorts them to accept the
position and to act in harmony with their new archbishop.
Both the Pope and Charlemagne were the more anxious
for the upholding of Arno’s authority because to him had been entrusted the
conversion of the Avars. Their power had been broken by the Franks in various
campaigns from the year 791 to 795. As well to civilize them as to incorporate
them the more readily with his kingdom, Charlemagne, in accordance with his
usual policy, endeavored to make Christians of them as quickly as possible.
Therefore no sooner had Arno been made archbishop, and had rendered to him an
account of his embassy, than he sent him into the country of the conquered
Avars—a country embracing the ancient Noricum and Pannonia, and, as it included
the territory between the Danube, the Drave, and the Carpathian Mountains, most
of the present AustroHungarian Empire.
In his successful work among the Avars, Arno was much
encouraged by Alcuin, ever anxious to hear of its conversion. It is through the
correspondence of these two great friends that we first hear the mutterings of
the storm that was to break over the head of the devoted Pope in the early part
of the following year. In one letter after another, Alcuin seeks for
information about the designs of the Romans, or about the schemes of the Roman
nobility. At length, writing to his friend towards the close of 798, he lets us
see more plainly to what exactly he is referring: “You wrote to me about the
religious life and virtue of our Apostolic Lord, and what troubles he has to
endure at the hands of certain sons of discord. For my own part I confess I am
rejoiced that, with a pious and faithful mind, without guile, the father of the
churches strives to serve God. Nor is it wonderful that justice should suffer
persecution in him at the hands of the wicked, when in Christ, Our Lord, Our
Head, the Fount of all goodness and justice, it was persecuted unto death”.
The attack on Pope Leo, 799
And it was nearly persecuted unto death in the person of Pope Leo. The tragic incident we are about
to relate Leo, had its origin purely in
the personal ambition of a section of the nobility, and was not in the least
degree prompted by any abstract objections on the part of the Romans to the
Pope’s having temporal dominion. This is obvious from the fact that its chief
agents sprang from the very bosom of the Roman Church itself, and were
relations of the late Pope Hadrian.
The principal conspirator, Paschal, was also the
principal official of the papal administration. He was a nephew of Hadrian, and
under Pope Leo at least was primicerius of the Holy See. His lieutenant was Campulus, who from a notary had seemingly
been made saccellarius (paymaster) by Leo. Allied with them were probably other members of the
military aristocracy which the increased temporal power of the Holy See had
augmented both in numbers and influence, if it had not actually brought into
being. All that is known for certain regarding the motives which brought about
the conspiracy against the Pope is contained in the statement of some of the
chronicles, to the effect that, “The Romans (i.e. Paschal and his party)
condemned or attacked the Pope through envy”. But whether the jealousy arose
from the fact that Leo was not a member of the aristocracy, and consequently
bestowed his favors elsewhere, or because he favored a section of the nobility
to which the relations of the late Pope did not belong, cannot be stated with
certainty. Moreover, in this and similar cases it is always well to bear in
mind the well-founded satirical remark of that gossiping “stammering and
toothless” old biographer of Charlemagne, the monk of St. Gall. “It is”, he
says, “a matter of solemn custom with the Romans to be uniformly inimical to
every distinguished Pontiff”.
In accordance with ancient traditions, a notary of the
Roman Church had proclaimed, on the feast of St. George (April 23) and in his
Church “in Velabro”, that the procession of the
Greater Litany (the Litany of the Saints) would take place, as it does today,
on the feast of St. Mark (April 25). This Christian custom took the place of
the old pagan festival of the Robigalia or of the
goddess Rubigo, and was instituted for the same
purpose, viz., to ask for the divine protection on the fruits of the earth then
springing into being. There was a procession connected with both the pagan and
the Christian rites, and in both cases it left the city by the Flaminian Gate (Porta del Popolo). But the
Christian one, which started from the old Church of S. Lorenzo in Lucina, after making stations at the Church of St.
Valentine, outside the walls, and at the Ponte Molle,
turned to the left to St. Peter’s, the Church of the station where Mass was
celebrated.
When on the morning of the twenty-fifth, the Pope left
the Lateran palace to join the people who were awaiting him at the Church of S.
Lorenzo, he was met, of course, by the arch-conspirators Paschal and Campulus.
Neither of them was wearing the prescribed dark planeta, an ecclesiastical
vestment from which our chasuble is the very much curtailed descendant, and
which, from its cumbersomeness, was not a suitable garment for men about to
engage in deeds of violence. Paschal hypocritically excused himself for not
having his planeta by pleading ill-health; Campulus tendered a similar plea. And, “with sweet
words in their mouths which they had not in their hearts”, they took their
places by the Pontiff’s side.
The procession, which had been duly formed in the
Church of S. Lorenzo, and which, headed by the poor from the hospitals carrying
a painted wooden cross, and by those who bore the seven stationary crosses, was to move up the Corso,
had scarcely started, when there rushed forth from their place of concealment
by the monastery of SS. Stephen and Silvester, a band
of armed ruffians. They at once made a dash for the Pope. His attendants,
unarmed and helpless, fled in all directions. Leo himself, however, was seized,
dashed to the ground and stripped; and whilst Paschal stood at his head and
Campulus at his feet, a hasty attempt was made to deprive their victim of his
eyes and tongue.
Thinking their deed of blood was accomplished, the
assassins withdrew, leaving the unfortunate Pontiff lying bleeding in the
street. But finding no immediate attempt was being made to rescue him, they
returned, dragged him into the Church of St. Silvester,
again gashed his face (eyes and tongue), covered him with blows, and left him
half dead, bedewed with his own blood, before the very altar. They confined him
at first in the adjoining monastery; but fearing that, if left there, his
whereabouts would soon be discovered, as it would be naturally suspected that
he had been taken there, they forced the abbot (eguminus) of the Greek monastery
of St. Erasmus on the Coelian to receive him. Thither they took him by night,
and kept him under the strictest surveillance.
“But God Almighty Himself ... wonderfully brought to
naught their wicked attempt”. Whilst still in the monastery on the Coelian, “by
the Will of God and the intercession of Blessed Peter, the Keybearer of the Kingdom of Heaven, he recovered his sight and received back the use of
his tongue”. Moreover, by the connivance of friends within the monastery, he
was let down at night by a rope into the arms of the chamberlain Albinus and
other god-fearing men. Escorted to St. Peter’s, he was received by the people
with every demonstration of joy, whilst his enemies, quarrelling with each
other, or else in despair, were only saved from killing each other by being led
to sack the house of Albinus. Leo had been taken to St. Peter’s, and not back
to the Lateran, because it happened that, at that time, there were in residence
there two missi of Charlemagne, viz., Wirund, abbot of Stablo,
and Winichis, Duke of Spoleto, and conqueror of the
Greeks (788). As the latter had no great force with him, he did not think it
wise to remain in the city, but at once escorted his illustrious but
unfortunate charge to his ducal city (Spoleto).
Leo sets out for Germany
Thither from all the cities “of the Romans” flocked
the chief clergy and laity to offer their sympathy to the Pope. With some of these in his train, Leo set out
for the north to seek the protection of Charlemagne. The author of the Carmen de Carolo Magna, whether Angilbert (d.
814), or whoever else was its composer, poetically represents the Pope as
begging the legates, “by Charles’ dear health”, to defend him, driven from his
own territories, and to bring him before the face of their king; and the
legates as answering, “Apostolic Pastor, priest, revered throughout the world,
it is for you to order whatever you desire; for us, 0 best of fathers, to obey
your behests”. The same writer tells us of the crowds that came to look upon
the Pope as he went north, eager to offer him presents, to kiss his feet, and,
as the poet quaintly puts it, to gaze in astonishment at new eyes in an old
head, and to hear a tongue that had been torn out speak.
News of the attack on the Pope was, of course, soon
conveyed to Charlemagne, and by him to his adviser, Alcuin. He at once wrote to
the king (May 799), and pointed out: “On you alone the whole safety of the
churches of Christ rests ... They (the
Romans), blinded in their own hearts, have blinded their own head”. In conclusion
he begged him to make peace with the Saxons, against whom he was then leading
his army, as the more weighty affairs at Rome needed his full attention. “For
it is better that the feet (of the Church) should suffer rather than the head”.
Another letter (about July loth) exhorts the king to take suitable steps to
receive the Pope.
In this matter Charlemagne was not wanting. He first sent forward to meet him Hildebald,
archbishop of Cologne, and Count Aschericus; and then
his son, King Pippin, and more of his nobles. He was at this time staying at
Paderborn. Thither went the Pope, and there, “as the Vicar of St. Peter”, the
king received him with the greatest honor and affection. With Charlemagne the
Pope stayed some weeks. During that interval his enemies were not idle. Their “public
spirit” they displayed by plundering and destroying the papal property, and
their enmity to the Pope by maliciously accusing him to Charlemagne of all
kinds of crimes. But neither were Leo’s friends inactive. Alcuin, though
detained at Tours by ill-health, earnestly exerted himself in the interests of
the Pope, and wrote (August 799) both to Charlemagne and to his friend Arno of
Salzburg. The king was advised to consider carefully how to treat the Romans
and how to take measures that Leo, “freed by divine providence from the hands
of his enemies, might be able in security to serve Christ, Our Lord, in his See”.
To Arno he wrote : “I understand that there are many rivals of our lord the
Pope, who are seeking to depose him by subtle suggestions, and to lay to his
charge crimes of adultery or perjury, and who maintain that he should clear
himself of these charges on oath. They are thus working in secret that he may
lay down the pontificate without taking the oath and pass his life in some
monastery. This must not be done at all; nor must he consent to bind himself by
an oath, nor lose his See ... What bishop throughout the Church of Christ would
be secure, if he, who is the head of Christ’s churches, be cast down by the
wicked?”. Arno must do his best for the Pope’s safety and authority, and
remember that it is laid down in the canons that the Apostolic See was to judge
and not be judged. To Alcuin’s regret, however, the Pope seems even at this
time to have made some solemn denial of the misdeeds alleged against him.
Whilst Leo was with Charlemagne at Paderborn, he consecrated
the altar of the church there, placing therein relics of St. Stephen, the protomartyr, which he had brought from Rome, and received
the clergy of all ranks, who flocked to him from every side. With the approval
of his nobles, cleric as well as lay, the Frankish monarch caused him to return
to Rome with a great company of his bishops and counts. Received in each city
through which he passed “like the apostle himself”, he was welcomed at the
Ponte Molle (November 29) by the Romans of every rank,
by the clergy and by the nobility, by the senate and by the military, by the
nuns and by the deaconesses—in a word, by all the Romans, carrying, as usual,
the ensigns and banners of their various quarters. Equally demonstrative in
their reception of the Pope, who had, as all believed, received back from
Heaven his sight and speech, were the four great Schola (colonies or guilds) of foreigners, whose quarters were around St. Peter’s,
viz., the Franks, Frisians, English and Lombards, and no doubt too the Greeks,
from their quarter on the Aventine and the slopes of the Palatine. With
canticles of triumph Leo was escorted to St. Peter’s, where he said Mass and
gave to all present “the body and blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ”.
Next day he once again took up his residence at the Lateran.
At the same palace were also lodged Arno of Salzburg and the other envoys of
Charlemagne; and there, in Leo’s new Triclinium, they
examined the Pope’s enemies for more than a week. Fierce and bitter they proved
to be. They tried both violence and calumny. Plots were hatched against the
king’s envoys and the wildest charges made against the Pope’s character. But to
no purpose. The Frankish power was too strong, their sense of justice too keen.
Accordingly, finding that his accusers had no case, the envoys caused them to
be seized, powerful though they were, and sent to France.
Next year Charlemagne held, in August, a placitum or one
of his great assemblies of his nobles, at Mayence,
and, “finding that there was peace throughout his dominions, he bethought him
of the injury which the Romans had inflicted upon Pope Leo”, and set out for
Rome. He availed himself of this first opportunity, for Alcuin had impressed
upon him that “Rome, which has been touched by the discord of brethren, still
keeps the poison which has been instilled into her veins, and thus compels your
venerable Dignity to hasten from your sweet abodes in Germany in order to
repress the fury of this pestilence”.
At Nomentum (Mentana), some fifteen miles from Rome, on the Nomentan Way, he was met by the Pope, who, after supping
with him, returned to the city. The next day, after the usual solemn reception,
Leo introduced him into St. Peter’s. Seven days later the king convened an
assembly in St. Peter’s of the chief clergy and nobility both of the Franks and
Romans. After Charlemagne and the Pope had taken their seats together the
principal clergy also sat down, whilst all the rest of the clergy and the
nobility remained standing. The king then explained that the principal reason
which had brought him to Rome was that the charges brought against the Pope
might be looked into, and that the present assembly had been summoned that it
might examine the accusations. If the examination of the charges meant
examination of the Pope, the assembled prelates made it very plain that they
were not going to be partners in anything of that kind. “We dare not judge the
Apostolic See, which is the head of all God’s churches. For by it and by His
Vicar are we all judged. But as ancient custom dictates, the Apostolic See is
not judged by any one. And in accordance with the canons, what the chief bishop
decrees we obey”. The Pope, however, declared that, following the example of
his predecessors, he was ready to clear himself of the charges leveled against
him. The examination of his accusers was proceeded with. But not one of them
was able to prove a point against him, or perhaps, it should be said, was even
willing to make an attempt so to do. For the words of the Frankish chroniclers
on this point are somewhat ambiguous. However, it was generally agreed that
they had accused the Pope not for the sake of justice but through envy. Thus
ended all that there was of a trial strictly so-called. “Then”, say the annals
of Lorsch, “it seemed good to the most pious prince
Charles himself, to all the bishops and the assembled fathers, that if he
himself (Leo) chose, and himself asked, but not by their judgment, but quite of
his own free will, he might purge himself. Accordingly on another day (December
23), in the same place, viz., St Peter’s, the Pope, with the book of the
Gospels in his hand, ascended the pulpit, and before the assembled Franks and
Romans declared “on oath in a loud tone”, that of his own free will, and not
judged by any man, and without any intention of forming a precedent, but more
certainly to free men’s minds from any unjust suspicion, he wished to clear
himself on oath. Hence he solemnly averred that he had never done, nor
commanded to be done, the wicked deeds of which he had been charged. Thereupon,
all present burst forth into the Te Deum, and
thanked God that they had the happiness of having the Pope preserved for them “sound
both in body and soul”.
Paschal, etc., condemned to death.
After Christmas, Paschal and the other conspirators,
bitterly upbraiding one another in their hour of need, were condemned to death
in accordance with the Roman law as guilty of high treason. However, despite
the treatment he had received at their hands, Leo, in keeping with the
character assigned to him by his biographer, actuated by his merciful
disposition, begged that life and limb might be spared them. His request was
granted, and the prisoners were sent into exile in France.
From some of the quotations adduced in the above narrative,
it will perhaps have been observed that there was current at the time a belief
in the minds of many, that Pope Leo had been actually deprived of his eyes, or
at least of his sight, and of his tongue, and that they had been miraculously
restored to him. A careful examination of the best authorities, however, seems
to show that if the Pope’s sight was miraculously restored, his eyes at any
rate had not been actually put out. Turning to the contemporary author in the
Book of the Popes, we find that after saying that an attempt was made to put
out the eyes of the Pope, he says a little further on that they were plucked
out a second time. As it has been already noted this must mean, that a second
attempt was made to put out his eyes. That his enemies got no further than
making the attempt is the statement of the best contemporary chroniclers. Hence Theophanes’s version of this matter may be the
correct one. Though he lived at such a distance from Rome, and is in general
not well acquainted with the affairs of the West, still he was in the strictest
sense a contemporary, and, by the time that the story had reached him, it may
have had time, so to speak, to cool down to its original dimensions. He says
that after the first attempt on the Pope’s eyes, the men who had been
commissioned to completely deprive him of the use of them were touched with
pity, and did not quite destroy his sight. In any case there cannot be a doubt
that the unfortunate Pontiff was dreadfully mangled about the face, and it is
only natural to suppose that, under the circumstances, the report would be
bruited about that he had actually been blinded. And, if the account of
Theophanes is true, it would be the very report that the men who had spared him
would have spread abroad to screen themselves from the vengeance of Paschal.
And so the first news that reached Charlemagne, and which he communicated to
Alcuin, would seem to have been that the Pope had lost his eyes. For in his
reply to Charlemagne’s communication, Alcuin speaks of the Romans who, blinded
in their hearts, “had blinded their own head”. But writing a few months later
(August), he seems to thank God that the Pope’s eyes were miraculously
prevented from being torn out —which is probably the true view to take of the
case—and that his wounds had healed so quickly. Speaking of what Charlemagne
had told him of the “wonderful recovery” of the Pope (and that the recovery
was, at least, marvelously quick cannot be doubted), he thinks that every
Christian should thank God for restraining the hands of the wicked men from
carrying into effect their design of blinding their head. Finally, according to
a passage quoted above, it would appear that even Leo himself stated publicly
that his enemies did not get further than trying to mutilate him. However one
may view the evidence here adduced, most apt is the reflection of another
contemporary of the Pope, Theodulfus, Bishop of
Orleans : “If the Pope’s eyes and tongue were restored to him, it is a miracle.
It is equally a miracle that his enemies were unable to deprive him of them. I
know not whether I must marvel more at the former or the latter”.
December 25, AD 800. Charlemagne is crowned Emperor
Two days after the Pope had taken in St. Peter’s the
oath by which he proclaimed his innocence of the charges made against his
character, there took place, in the same basilica, an event noticed by all the
historians of the time, an event which, apart from the great facts of divine
revelation, has exercised more influence on the history of Europe than perhaps
any other—especially if the comparatively unostentatious character of its
performance be taken into consideration. The event in question, the crowning of
Charlemagne by Leo as Emperor of the West, was the occasion of much fierce
controversy in the later Middle Ages, when the harmonious working of the Empire
and the Church came to an end; and it has been the occasion of modern
historians unfolding endless theories. These controversies and theories can
scarcely be said to have greatly enlightened the subject. For it was a question
sufficiently understood and explained by the contemporary authors who relate
it. To them we will turn in the first instance.
On the Christmas Day of the year 800, Charlemagne,
clad proceeds to not in his ordinary Frankish dress, viz., in his short tunic with
its silver border, his vest of sable, his blue cloak and sword, and his hose
bound round with thongs, but in the long tunic, chlamys or green mantle, sandals and gold circlet of the Roman Patricius, went with his
nobles to hear the Pope’s Mass in St. Peter’s. He would have made his way to
this venerable basilica, then already nearly five hundred years old, by the
magnificent colonnade which led up to it from the bridge of S. Angelo. A fine
flight of thirty-five steps brought him to the atrium or paradise, a sort of courtyard
with arcades running all round it and with two fountains in its midst. Gazing
on the tombs of the popes on his left, he entered the Church by the great central
doors the Porta Argentea.
The building he entered was, of course, not the present glorious structure of
Bramante, but the basilica which had been erected by Pope Sylvester (c. 323) on the site of the oratory built
by Pope Anacletus (first century) in the gardens of
Nero, at the foot of the Vatican hill, where the first Christians had been
martyred in Rome, and where the body of the Prince of the Apostles had been
finally laid to rest. Though not to be compared in size with the present
church, which in turn stands on the site of Sylvester’s, the old basilica was a
large edifice, over three hundred feet long and some two hundred broad, with
its nave and aisles separated by four rows of twenty-four marble or granite
columns of varying lengths, taken from old Pagan temples. When the spacious atrium which is now being erected in
front of St. Paul’s Without-the-Walls is completed, the traveller will gaze on a veritable counterpart of old St.
Peter’s.
As Charlemagne and his suite passed up the broad nave
in stately procession, and as they crossed the great disc of red porphyry, on
which his successors were to be crowned, there must have been some who, gazing
on inscriptions bearing the names of the emperors Trajan and Galienus, were reflecting on the unexpected successor they
were soon to have.
Approached on each side by two flights of seven
porphyry steps, stood the high altar in the center of the chord of the apse. In
front of it was a sort of vestibule flanked by twelve twisted columns of white
marble, on which rested Gregory III’s beams covered with embossed plates of
silver supporting silver candelabra, and paved by Hadrian I with pure silver. Through
the silver gates affording admittance to the choir, which was enclosed by walls
of marble and decorated with images of silver, and which was lit by the enormous
candelabrum of Hadrian I with its 1365 candles, walked the stalwart king of the
Franks. Crossing its vestibule, he found himself in front of the confession of
the Prince of the Apostles and below the high altar. There by the golden
railings before the confession he knelt in prayer, and the Mass began.
After the singing of the Gospel, Leo arose from his
seat in the center of the apse, and placed “a most precious crown” upon the head of the Frankish monarch. At
once from bishop and noble, from Frank and Roman, burst forth the acclamation, “To
Charles, the most pious Augustus, crowned by God, to our great and pacific
emperor, life and victory!”. Thrice did the great basilica’s lofty roof ring with
the glad shout, and thrice did its mighty beams vibrate to it. Then did the schola cantorum intone the litanies. God and His Saints were implored to give all prosperity to
the Pope, the emperor and all the Franks. After the chanting of these laudes, Charlemagne was duly “adored” as emperor “after the
manner of the ancient princes” by the Pope and all the nobility. On the completion
of the ceremony of adoration “the most holy Pontiff anointed with holy oil his
most excellent son Charles as king”.
After the Mass was over “the most serene lord emperor”,
and his “most excellent royal sons and daughters”, offered a number of
magnificent presents, silver tables, golden crowns and chalices to the churches
of St. Peter and St. Paul, and of the Lateran and St. Mary Major. To the
last-named the emperor presented a cross adorned with gems, which, at his
particular request, the Pope ordained should be used in the processions of the
greater litanies.
Thus, quietly, was accomplished an event which was to
give a special color to the history of Europe for centuries and was to be
fraught with the greatest consequences both for good and for evil.
Concerning this most momentous act many questions have
been asked, and to each question many and widely differing solutions have been
offered. It will here be utterly impossible to propound all these queries, and
still more impossible to notice all the answers which have been suggested to
them. Of the former we shall note only the more
pertinent, and of the latter only bring forward such as seem most in harmony
with the plain meaning and spirit of the best contemporary authorities.
The causes that led to the revival of the Empire of
the West
As, of course, a great historical event cannot be
thought of as a deus ex machina,
but must be considered as the natural outcome of preceding causes, as fast
welded with other links of the great chain of human events, the first inquiry
regarding the revival of empire in the West which would seem to suggest itself
is one into the reasons which induced men to contemplate that revival. Why did
they think of bringing back the seat of empire to Rome?
In the year 476, the imperial insignia had been sent
from the West to the emperor Zeno, with an intimation that one emperor would
suffice for both the East and the West. Now, in the year 800, we find the same
West demanding that an emperor should once again hold sway in its midst. Those
who had with ill-disguised contempt sent to the emperor at Constantinople the
crown and purple robe of Augustulus were the
conquering Teutons. But the descendants of those who had lived under the Empire
of Trajan, of Constantine, and of Theodosius the Great, of those who had known
the Pax Romana,
looked on with shame and apprehension. And they hoped that the day would not be
long in coming when the Teuton hordes which oppressed them with their cruel
swords, and with their barbarous laws, would once again be made to respect the
might of the imperial arms and obey the right of the imperial laws. This was
especially true of the Churchmen, who never lost sight of the sublime idea of
One Church and One State, such as it had been developed by Eusebius, Bishop of
Caesarea under the first Christian emperor. “Formerly”, he wrote, “the world
with its diverse peoples and localities was divided into a countless number of
different kinds of governments. Hence endless wars and dire plunderings and ravages which are their consequences. This division was intensified by the
different gods which each section adored. But today that the cross, the
instrument of salvation and the trophy of victory, has been shown to the world,
and has been opposed to the demons, straightway their work, i.e. that of the
false gods, is dissipated like a breath; dominations, principalities,
tyrannies, republics have had their day. One God is preached to all men, and a
single empire is ready to receive and contain them all, to wit, the Roman
Empire. Thus at the same time, by God’s holy will, two seeds have sprouted and
have shot forth from the earth mighty trees which have covered the world with
their shade—the Empire of Rome and the faith of Christ; and these are destined
to unite the whole human race in the bonds of an eternal concord”.
These glorious yearnings never faded from the hearts
of the vanquished, even after they had realized that Constantinople could not fulfill
them. Moreover, by the year 800, the case had altered even for the conquering Teutons
themselves. By that date, at length comparatively civilized, they were
themselves in turn in dread of the surrounding barbarians. Those in the North
had already heard disquieting stories of the long-ships of the terrible Danes
and Norsemen which were soon to work such dread havoc. Those in the South had
already felt the keen edge of the Moslem scimitar; the fame of the power of the
great Caliph Haroun-el-Raschid was in the mouths of
all. The world, then, must have an emperor “to make head against the nations
which were surging up all round it”, or, as a contemporary author expresses it,
“lest the pagans should revile the Christians if the name of emperor should die
out among them”.
Now, too, that the Teutons had become Catholics like
those whom they had conquered, they felt with them that the true faith and its
head stood in need of an emperor who would really be its defender. They had
seen that the emperors at Constantinople affected to be as autocratic in
matters of faith as of civil government, and they had seen the head of the
Church treated by his servile officials as an outcast. The simmering religious
disunion between the real rulers of the West and the emperor at Constantinople,
rendered acute by the iconoclastic controversy, deepened their political
disunion, and gave strength to the idea that the seat of empire should once
again be in the West, or that it, at any rate, should impose the emperor on the
world.
An attempt had already been made under Gregory II to transfer this idea into the domain of fact. “Understanding
the impiety of the emperor, the whole of Italy resolved to elect an emperor
itself and to conduct him to Constantinople”. It was only the address of the
Pope that stopped the execution of this decision. But, in the year 800, it was
argued that, as the emperors by the Bosphorus had not become more satisfactory,
the time had now come to choose one from the West. The empire on the one hand
was practically vacant, for it was out of the question that a woman could be
allowed to rule it; and, on the other, the proper person to govern it was ready
in the person of the ruler of the West. Charlemagne was the undoubted lord of
most of the old seats of empire. It was right that he who had the power of the
emperor should have the name. Whatever may have been the Pope’s personal views
on these contentions before the outbreak of Paschal, the awful peril through
which he had then passed made him quite ready after it to subscribe to a scheme
which would mean for him more protection even if less liberty.
Hence, if he was not himself the source whence first sprang
the idea of the imperial consecration of Charlemagne, he soon heartily embraced
it. To state precisely whence it originated may be impossible; but it would
seem that the attempts which have been made to trace it beyond the Pope himself
are not very successful. Because, impressed by the power of Charlemagne, the
poets of the court have employed the loftiest language when singing his
praises, and because Alcuin often before the Christmas Day of 800 calls his
kingdom a “Christian empire”, it has been surmised that projects to have him
proclaimed emperor were matters of common discussion among his entourage. But,
when all legitimate deductions have been drawn from high-flown epithets of
poets and from obscure remarks in the generally one-sided correspondence of
Alcuin, it can only be said that it is possible that the elevation of
Charlemagne was planned by his own advisers. The probability remains that even
in such preliminary negotiations as must have taken place—and it would seem
that they were of very limited extent—the greatest share was taken by him whose
name is directly connected with the imperial coronation by our authorities in
every variety of phrase. The unanimity of the proceedings in St. Peter’s is
enough to show that Leo must have previously conferred with the chief men of
the Franks and Romans, and must have secured their adhesion to what he was
about to do. But it would seem that the great act under discussion was rather
the result of the enthusiastic adoption of a suddenly conceived idea, at once
both opportune and splendid, than the consummation of an elaborately prepared
plan. “The act is conceived of as directly ordered by the Divine Providence,
which has brought about a state of things that admits of but one issue, an
issue which king, priest, and people have only to obey”.
If it can scarcely be doubted that Charlemagne had at
least a vague knowledge that there was a movement of some sort on foot to
choose him as the successor of the deposed Constantine VI, it is quite certain
that he did not contemplate its coming to a head, nor himself entertain the
idea of ever assuming the title of emperor. For this there is the irrefragable
testimony of Eginhard. “At this time”, writes the secretary, “he received the
name of Emperor and Augustus. To this he was at first so averse that he
declared that, if he could have foreseen the Pope’s intention, he would never
have entered the church on that day, though it was one of the chiefest festivals of the year”. The principal reason for
this reluctance on the part of Charlemagne to accept the imperial crown is unfolded
for us by the same authority which tells us of this unwillingness. For Eginhard
goes on to say : “When he had received the imperial title, he bore with great
patience the ill-will displayed towards him by the Roman emperors, who were
indignant at what had been done. However, he overcame their irritation by his
magnanimity, by which beyond all doubt he was immeasurably their superior,
sending them frequent embassies, and, in his letters, calling them brothers”.
The first attempt he made to allay the vexation which his imperial coronation
caused at Constantinople was to apply for the hand, blood-stained though it
was, of the Empress Irene. To Constantinople there came “apocrisiarii from Charles and Leo with a request that she might be
joined to Charles in wedlock, and that the East and West might be made one”.
The intrigues of the eunuch Aetius and the subsequent illness and deposition of
Irene prevented the accomplishment of a scheme which might have been followed
by the happiest of results in the domains both of politics and religion.
Charlemagne, however, continued his negotiations with her successors,
Nicephorus and Michael II, and was at length, after a display of force, recognized
by the latter as emperor and basileus (812). The empire, in theory one and
indivisible, was divided between two independent emperors.
Arguing from the fact that Charlemagne caused his son,
Louis the Pious, to crown himself emperor, or perhaps rather crowned him
himself, not a few historians conclude that his aversion arose, to a large
extent at least, because the imperial crown was bestowed on him by the Church.
Dr. Hodgkin, to quote one who represents the thoughts of many, believes that he “was averse to the title of emperor”,
perhaps chiefly on account of the “intervention of the Pope ... He would have
wished it (the imperial crowning) done in some other way by the invitation of
his Frankish nobles, by a vote of the shadowy body which called itself the
Roman Senate (if such a shadow still haunted the north-west corner of the
Forum), by the acclamations of the Roman people, or by all those instrumentalities
combined, but not by a touch of the Pontiff’ s fingers. He foresaw, probably
with statesmanlike instinct, the mischief which would accrue to future
generations from the precedent thus furnished of a Pope appearing by virtue of
his ecclesiastical office to bestow the imperial crown”. Were this a true
presentment of Charlemagne’s view of his imperial coronation, it would suppose
that he had failed to grasp the most salient feature of life in Europe in the
early Middle Ages. It is well-nigh impossible to overstate the influence of the
Church—of the bishops, and particularly of the Pope—during that epoch on the
political affairs of the West. In that age of violence no right could be
acquired or held, except by the sword or by the anathema of a bishop. If
Charlemagne’s father Pippin was only too glad to have his kingly title recognized
by Pope Zachary, he himself, it cannot be doubted, was pleased, if he had to
receive the imperial title, to have it bestowed by the Pope. Besides, not to
mention the intervention of the Roman Senate, which at that time was too dead
even to have a shadow, it can scarcely be believed that Charlemagne, whose only
idea of the “Roman people” can but have been of men cowering before the
Lombards, and trusting to the Pope even for their temporal safety, would have
esteemed a request from them to become emperor. As to his “Frankish nobles”, no
ground can be imagined which would give them a colorable title to offer their
ruler the imperial dignity. But it was very natural that an invitation should
be valued from the Pope who was the acknowledged head of the whole Catholic
Church, the recognized lord and saviour of Rome (the
first seat of the Roman Empire), and the successor of the one whose sanction
had given stability to the Carolingian dynasty. A letter of Charlemagne’s great
grandson, the emperor Louis II, addressed to the Eastern emperor Basil I, proves
indeed how highly the Pope’s action was valued. Besides; the whole political
career of Charlemagne was colored by papal intervention, and that, too, of his
own seeking. He would have the Pope crown and anoint his sons, subscribe his
treaties, and even confirm his will. Moreover, it is highly unlikely that Leo
would risk performing an act which, if chiefly because done by him, would
irritate his benefactor and protector. One of Charlemagne’s most trusted
advisers was his cousin Adalhard, abbot of Corbey. He was with him at Rome in 800, and must have known
his mind on the papacy. Now of all the Franks he was the most beloved by Leo
also. It is surely, then, more than likely that he consulted with him before he
took the momentous step of giving an imperial crown, and must have been convinced
that, on whatever other grounds Charlemagne might not wish for it, he would
have no objection to receiving it because it came from his hands. And though,
in the light of Greek politics, Charlemagne might have preferred that he had
never been saluted as emperor, it seems certain that he was far from bearing
any ill-will to Leo personally for his share in that transaction. For Alcuin,
writing only a few months after it, viz., in April 801, tells us that word had
been brought to him from Rome that “the Apostolicus was in high favor with the lord emperor”.
In placing the imperial crown on the head of the
Frankish monarch, Leo was animated by motives both personal and political. The
cruel attack which had been made upon him rendered him more desirous of
increased protection, and he felt that an emperor of the Romans would have more
title to interfere on his behalf than would a king of the Franks, though styled
Patricius and defender of the Church. A wish for civil as well as religious
unity also urged him on. He could not fail to realize the danger to Christian
Europe from the Norseman and the Saracen. He knew that before the rise of the
power of Charlemagne it was split up into numerous kingdoms, without any bond
of unity between them but submission in spiritual matters to the See of Rome.
And he understood that if Christendom was to resist the pressure from without,
and the tendency to disintegration from within, there must be more than
spiritual unity amongst its kingdoms. There was need of some material unity.
There must be some temporal authority to which all would look up and rally. To
a Roman what was more natural than the idea of a revival of the Roman empire, held
then to be theoretically vacant by the deposition of Constantine VI, and known
to have been practically dead even in Italy, much less in the rest of Europe,
since the descent of the Lombards (568).
Those authors, then, who would have us regard
renovation of the Roman empire as an act of rebellion against the emperors of
Constantinople, ask far too much of our common-sense. The authority of Byzantium
in Europe at this time was simply derelict. What is derelict belongs to the
first hand that can hold it. But if it be asked what special right the Pope had
to revive the empire, it may be answered that he had at least as much right as the
men who made the imperial power in the first instance Julius Caesar and
Augustus. And in times of difficulty and danger, when there is need of ability
and willingness to ward off impending disaster, any man has the natural right, if
he has the power, to seize the helm and save himself and others. Besides, what
more natural than that the acknowledged Head of the Church should seek to provide
even for the temporal welfare of his flock? Was he not, too, lord of Rome and,
as the heir of its preservers, the natural guardian of its rights?
It is sufficiently obvious that Leo could not have reestablished
the authority of the Eastern emperors in Europe, had he wished to do so. And
certainly he had no reason to entertain any such wish. They had proved themselves
unable to save the West from the barbarians, and anything but the defenders of
the Church. The Pope, then, with sense chose as emperor one who had the power to
save Europe from the heathen and the will to defend the Church. The power of
Charlemagne is acknowledged by friend and foe alike; his goodwill to defend the
Church is proclaimed by himself. In the preface to his “Admonitio generalis”, among his Capitularies, or legal pronouncements, he styles himself: “By the
grace and mercy of God, king and ruler of the kingdom of the Franks, and of
Holy Church the devout defender and humble helper”. And in the heading of the
first capitulary, he declares, according to one reading at least, that he is “in
all things the adjutant of the Apostolic See”. As he called himself, so was he
addressed by others. The bishops assembled at the Council of Mayence (813) addressed him as “the most Christian emperor,
the rector of the true religion and the defender of the Holy Church of God”.
Even at the risk of being tedious, we will add to the evidence already cited of
Charlemagne’s position in regard to the Church an extract from an introduction
to a MS. of the laws of the Lombard king Rotharis,
preserved in the library of the dukes of Gotha. “As he (Charlemagne) was worthy
of the empire’s honor, he obtained the imperial crown; he received all the
dignities of the Roman power; he was made the most dutiful son of Lord Peter,
the Apostle, and he defended Peter’s
property from his foes”.
If it be imagined that too much has been assumed in
supposing that it was chiefly the Pope’s act which revived the empire in the West,
we have not only the word of the Pope himself that such was in fact the case,
but the authoritative declaration of an emperor. The emperor of Constantinople,
Basil I, wrote to the emperor Louis II (d.
S75) to complain of his taking the title of emperor, which belonged to him
alone. In his reply, Louis points out that, with the exception of Basil, he is recognized
as emperor by all Christian kings; for they look “to the anointing and
consecration by which, by means of the imposition of the hands of the supreme
Pontiff and by prayer, we have been, by the will of heaven, advanced to this
high position, and to the empire of the Roman principate, which we hold by
God’s will ... Your beloved fraternity further writes that you are astonished
that we are called emperor of the Romans, and not emperor of the Franks. But
you must understand that if we are not emperor of the Romans, we cannot be
emperor of the Franks. For as among the Romans this sublime appellation first
arose, we have assumed it from those whose city we have received from heaven to
govern, as we have received in like manner the mother of all the churches of
God to defend and advance. From this mother our race received in the first
instance the authority of kings (he refers to the action of Pope Zachary), and
then that of emperors. For the princes of the Franks were first called kings;
and then those were called emperors who were for this end (ad hoc) anointed by
the Roman Pontiff with the holy oil. Charles the Great, my
great-great-grandfather, anointed by the supreme Pontiff, was the first of our
race to be called emperor, and to be made the anointed of the Lord. And if”,
continues Louis, “you rail against the Pope for his action, you have as much
reason to rail against Samuel for passing over Saul, whom he had himself
anointed, and for anointing David king”. The Western then reminds the Eastern
emperor of the way in which the popes had been left defenseless against their
enemies by the rulers of Constantinople, and, what was worse, had been through
them assailed by heresies. Hence, naturally, the popes turned their backs on
the apostates, and embraced the Franks.
Results of Leo’s action
The outcome of Leo's act (and the letter of the
emperor Louis shows how truly it was the
Pope’s act), while it did not in any way interfere with the power, or real
rights, of the Eastern emperors, increased that of Charlemagne at least
indirectly. Though it did not add to his dominions by one rood of land, it gave
him a solid increase of authority by the way in which it caused him to be
looked up to as well by his own subjects as by other Christian peoples and
kings. For there was such a charm about the name of emperor, that even the very
barbarian rulers who had destroyed in the West the power of the emperors, kept a
sort of covert respect for them, and sometimes even accepted from the emperors
of Constantinople the title of patricius. But the
result of Leo’s work on the Christmas Day of 800 was not confined to the reign
of Charlemagne. It endured in appearance till the August of 1806, when the
emperor Francis II renounced the imperial crown, and thereby brought “the
oldest political institution in the world ... to an end”. It existed
practically till the days of the emperor Charles V, who was the last of the
emperors crowned by the Pope.
As a last word on this subject we will point out that
the union of Church and State, brought about by the renovation of the empire,
was in the main productive of good. It is true that, with the advance of time,
great struggles arose between the papacy and the empire. From the nature of
things it was inevitable that difficulties should arise. If the Church is not
infallible in its temporal policy, no more, perhaps still less, is the State.
And as it is impossible in some cases to fix the exact boundaries of the proper
spheres of action of the Church on the one hand and the State on the other, it
is only to be expected that, when both are full of life, friction must arise.
In a man of energy, especially when plunged in the midst of the affairs of
life, there is an endless struggle going on between the powers of his body and
those of his soul. It does not, however, follow that the union of body and soul
is not in itself good. Similarly the struggles, sometimes fierce enough,
between the popes and the emperors do not prove that the institution of the
empire was not to the great advantage of Europe generally.
There can indeed be no doubt that the grand idea of
one Church and one State acting in harmony, with which the act of Leo inspired
the minds of the men of the West, was productive of great good. Wild and rough
as were but too many of the leaders of men in Western Europe in the early
Middle Ages, they conceived the thought, so important for the development of
European civilization, that they were all members of one great Christian
family. It was this idea that made united action possible in Europe, that
hurled the warriors of the West against the Moslem, who, like the locust, can
but devour all that is good as he moves along. It was this thought, this habit
of looking up with respect to a common head, not merely at Rome, but also,
though to a much less degree, at Aachen, or wherever else the seat of empire
might be, which so frequently averted the horrors of war at a time when men
seemed to think they were born to fight. It was this feeling of the brotherhood
of peoples which promoted an intercourse among the men of the West, greatly, of
course, to their mutual benefit, to which nothing in our times can compare.
Where there was much to be learned, or where there was much to do, thither,
heedless whether to London, to Paris, or to Rome, went the workers or the
seekers after truth. And gladly were they welcomed. For they were received
without that miserable jealousy and suspicion which modern ideas of nationality
have engendered—ideas which make many men act at least as though they believed
that the be-all and end-all of everything was nationality. One Church, one
empire was a clear, noble, and grand central idea to which others, at once
beautiful and practical, could aggregate. Out of reflection of this kind arose
the remark of Gregorovius : “All the life of nations became henceforward bound
together in a great concentric system of Church and empire, and out of this
system sprang the common civilization of the West”.
Among the results of Leo’s crowning Charlemagne was not that he gave up all his sovereign rights in Rome. He no more ceased to be its
ruler than did the king of Bavaria lose all his regal power over Bavaria on the
proclamation of William, King of Prussia, as Emperor of Germany, in 1871. No
doubt, as emperor, Charlemagne would have more rights than those of a simple patricius; he would stand to the Pope in much the same position
as our sovereign does to the independent princes of our Indian empire. Hence in
his letters to the emperor, Leo does not fail to make it clear that Charlemagne
is his defender, but not in all things his master. Writing on one occasion
to complain of the doings of some of the emperor’s missi, he asks that “the
oblation which your ancestors and you yourself have offered to Blessed Peter
may remain acceptable in his sight, so that you may deserve to receive a
suitable reward from the key bearer of the kingdom of heaven, who has
constituted you his defenders in his interests”. Further, whilst consenting to
work along with the emperor in taking defensive measures on the coasts against
the Saracens and Northmen, whose sea power was now
making itself felt, Leo’s very words show that there were coasts that belonged
to him as well as to the emperor. And if the emperor’s missi, who came to
assist in the administration of justice, interfered with the Pope’s
arrangements, Leo did not hesitate to ask the emperor indignantly if it was by
his orders that his missi hampered, to the great detriment of the papal
exchequer, the administrative rights of the duces whom he had appointed over the different cities. It may be noted here that
these missi were in the nature of itinerant judges, whose business it was to
see that the local authorities in the different towns did their duty. Cenni, in his notes to this letter, quotes the famous
constitution of the emperor Lothaire, drawn up in the time of Eugenius II
(824-827), to the effect that it was the emperor’s will that missi should be
appointed by the Pope and himself, who should each year report how the
different dukes and judges administered justice. Complaints were in the first
instance to be referred to the Pope, as to the ordinary and immediate
authority, who should himself cause them to be satisfied; or, if he preferred
it, they were to be referred to the emperor to be dealt with. The idea of Leo
was that the emperors were to administer justice within the dominions of the
Pope when invited by him so to do, though not whenever they chose to do so on
their own initiative; but that in grave temporal difficulties they should
constitute the ultimate court of appeal. Living at a distance and interfering
only occasionally in the papal government, they were nevertheless to be always
in the background, as it were, and to serve as a continual warning and menace
to the turbulent nobility. While the emperor had no little ecclesiastical
authority, and the Pope still more temporal power, each was to be independent
in his own sphere. The scheme was, certainly, an admirable one for securing the
independence of the papacy.
Charlemagne stays in Rome till Easter, 801.
We may now return to the history of the course of
events. Charlemagne passed the winter in
Rome, occupied not only with the trial and punishment of the Pope’s enemies,
but with the affairs, public and private, ecclesiastical and civil, of Rome and
the whole of Italy. After dispatching an army under his son Pippin, the king of
Italy, against the Duke of Beneventum, who was too independent to suit the new
emperor, that prince left Rome after Easter (April 25) and set out for the
North.
Whilst Einhard in his annals
relates that in the following year negotiations were entered into between the
Eastern court and Charlemagne, Theophanes adds that to the emperor’s
ambassadors were added those of the Pope, and that, besides confirming peace
between the two sovereigns, the ambassadors had in view the bringing about a
marriage between the empress Irene and their master. If their mission had been
successful, it would have put an easy end to the soreness felt by the East at
the creation of a Western emperor. The plan, whether originating from the Pope
or from Charlemagne himself, was a good one. But it miscarried, and that
through the interested advice of one of Irene’s ministers. Well would it have
been for Irene if she had accepted the proffered hand of the mighty Frank. For,
on October 31 of this very year, she lost her throne, and found herself
banished to the Isle of Lesbos by the usurper Nicephorus, who had formerly been
the Treasurer (Logothete). Thus passed from the stage
of the world’s history a princess whose beauty, abilities, and even virtues,
were brought into more striking prominence by her later crimes. Charlemagne’s
ambassadors were graciously heard by Nicephorus, who sent back legates of his
own with them both to the emperor and the Pope, and concluded at least a
preliminary treaty of peace.
In the following year the North of Italy was agitated by the story that there had been found in
Mantua a sponge that had been dipped in the blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ and
carried thither by Longinus. In the summer (803), news of this so-called discovery
was brought to Charlemagne, who at once begged the Pope to inquire into the
truth of the affair. Leo took advantage of this request of the emperor to go
still further north and pay Charlemagne a second visit, as well for his love of
the emperor as for the needs of the Church. Charlemagne was at Aachen
(Aix-la-Chapelle) when word was brought to him, about the middle of November,
that the Pope wished to keep the feast of Christmas with him. At once the young
prince Charles was sent forward to meet the Pope at St. Maurice in Valais. He
himself received the Pope in the old basilica of St. Remy at Rheims, and then
went with him to Quiercy—a place already so famous in the history of the
relations between the popes and the Carolingians—where they kept the feast of
Christmas. Here, and at Aachen, they were together for eight days.
Unfortunately we are left utterly in the dark as to what matters were discussed
between them. Gregorovius, however, who is here cited merely as a type of a
certain class of historians, is not without sources of private information. Leo
had come for more land. But he did not obtain “all his desires, for the dispute
concerning the frontiers of his property, or those between imperial supremacy
and the papal territorial power, remained to be the subject of lasting
dissensions, while the exorbitant demands of St. Peter awoke the indignation of
the youthful Pippin”, etc. With such pure imaginings certain modern authors are
literally crammed. What lover of truth would not almost prefer the bare list of
dry facts, given by many of the early chroniclers of the Middle Ages, to this?
On his return journey the emperor caused the Pope to be escorted to Ravenna
through Bavaria, a country which he wished to see. He reached Rome loaded with
presents.
The great emperor, feeling that the allotted span of
human life, the threescore years and ten, was drawing on apace for him (he was
now sixty-four), and thinking that the best way to avoid disputes arising between
his three sons after his death was to let them know during his life what
portion of his great empire would fall to each one of them, and to have this
division previously well ratified, assembled the great ones of his realm at Thionville (806). Before this gathering he announced his
intention of dividing his empire between his three sons, Louis, Charles, and
Pippin. This policy of endless subdivision of territory was to prove fatal not
only to the Carolingian empire itself, but to the prosperity of Europe in the
ninth and tenth centuries. There is no call here to give the terms of the will which
Charlemagne read up before his nobles, especially as it never took effect, for
both Charles and Pippin died before their father. But in assigning his dominions
to Pippin, Italy was declared his “up to the boundaries of St. Peter”—a fact
which shows plainly enough that Charlemagne did not consider the dominions of
the Pope to be at the disposal of the emperor. And the three brothers were exhorted
to be in earnest about the defence of the Church of St. Peter in the first
place, and then of the other churches. They had to defend the former from its
enemies, and, as far as they could and as was reasonable, to strive that it
obtained its rights. After the nobles had sworn to adhere to the clauses of the
will, Einhard himself, who gives us this information,
took it to Rome to receive the signature of the Pope. If there is one thing
that the conduct of Charlemagne towards the popes teaches, it is that he placed
in everything the utmost reliance on the moral support to be derived from the
concurrence of the Church. The assent of Leo to the will was given in due
course.
Among the honors which his deserved reputation had won
for Charlemagne was the concession to
him of a sort of honorary suzerainty over the city of Jerusalem, especially over
the Holy Places, by the great Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid.
This suzerainty involved him as well as the Pope in discussions on the “Procession
of the Holy Ghost”. On this most abstruse question the doctrine of the Catholic
Church is that the Holy Ghost proceeds, or has His origin, from the Father and
the Son as from one principle, and that as the Son comes from the Father by generation and is His Word, the Holy
Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son by spiration, and is, as it were,
the outcome of their mutual love. To express this doctrine more clearly, there
sprang up, it seems, in Spain, a custom of singing the Creed of Nice with the
addition of the words, “Filioque”. The Holy Ghost was thereby definitely stated
to have proceeded from the Father and the Son. For it was in Spain that the
orthodox doctrine was first proclaimed in a profession of faith. This was at a
Council held probably at Toledo, in 447, against the Priscillianists.
When the Arian Visigoths were converted under King Reccared,
it was again declared at the Third Council of Toledo, in 589, that the Holy
Ghost proceeds “from the Father and from the Son”. This custom, then, begun in
Spain sometime between 447 and the time of Felix of Urgel, passed into France,
then into Germany, and last of all into Italy. On this doctrine, the teaching
of the early Greek Fathers was at one with that of the Latin Fathers. But as
they often simply said that He proceeded from the Father, and sometimes that He
“was sent through the Son”, some of the Greeks began to imagine that the
addition of the “Filioque” implied some false doctrine. Hence the question of
the “procession” of the Holy Ghost was discussed at the Council of Gentilly (767) and in the Caroline Books. And when certain
Latin monks in Palestine began to use the Filioque, they were accused by their
neighbors of heresy. The letter in which they make known their difficulties to
the Pope is still extant, and is very interesting. It is addressed : “To the
most holy and reverend Lord in Christ, Father Leo, the first Bishop and
universal Pope of the Holy Apostolic City of Rome, the congregation of the
Mount of Olives”. It then begins as follows : “Our Lord has deigned to exalt
you, Father, over all bishops, and your holy See over all Christian Sees. For
with His own lips did Christ condescend to say, ‘Thou art Peter’, etc. (Matt. XVI.
18). Most kind father, we who are strangers in this holy city of Jerusalem,
love no man on earth more than you, and day and night pray for you. Hence to
you do we make known the troubles we are here enduring”. They go on to state
that John, a monk of the laura of S. Sabas, near Jerusalem, called them and all the Franks
heretics. In defence, the Franks replied that if they were called heretics, it
would be necessary to charge the apostolic See with heresy. John then had
recourse to deeds; and on Christmas Day (808) sent some laymen “to pitch them out”
(as the letter phrases it) of the Church built over the cave at Bethlehem where
Our Lord was born. But the sturdy Franks were not easy to eject. And they
proudly inform the Pope : “They could not put us forth. We all said”, they
continue, “here we wish to die; and you shall not cast us out”. They piously
attribute their power of resistance to extra strength which the Pope’s prayers
and faith had obtained for them. They then, they say, appealed to the clergy of
the city. A public meeting was held in the neighborhood of Mount Calvary.
Interrogated as to their faith, they declared that it was the same as that of
the Roman Church, but pointed out that they were in the habit of using certain
expressions in their prayers that the Greeks were not. “In the Glory be to the
Father”, urged the Frank monks, “you do not say as it was in the beginning; in the Gloria in excelsis you do not say to solus altissimus;
you say the ‘Our Father ‘differently to us; and in the Creed we say more than
you, we add, who proceeds from the Father
and the Son.” They (the Franks) then begged the people not to listen to the
monk John; and reminded them that if they called the Frankish monks heretics,
it would be to accuse of heresy the throne of Peter. “If you do that you will
sin”. “And now, our most kind Father, deign to think of us your servants, who
though so far away, are your sheep. To you, as your holiness knows, the whole
world has been entrusted; inasmuch as the Lord said to Peter, If you love me,
feed my sheep (S. John, XXI. 17). They then go on to inform the Pope that they
had heard the words, proceeds from the
Father and the Son, sung in the chapel of the emperor (Charlemagne) your son;
and that in the homily of St. Gregory and the Rule of St. Benedict, which the
same emperor had given them, the same words also occurred. But the monk John
had caused them much trouble by asserting that the Holy Ghost did not proceed
from the Father and the Son. In conclusion they earnestly beg the Pope to look
into the matter of the procession of the Holy Ghost, to call to the mind of the
emperor that they had heard the words, who proceeds, etc.,' in his chapel, and
to let them know the result“.
Of this matter Leo at once informed Charlemagne (809),
sending him the letter he had just received. He at the same time sent to the
monks of Mount Olivet a creed of the orthodox faith, that all might preserve it
true and intact, in accordance with this our Holy Catholic and Apostolic
Church.
In consequence of this letter of the Pope, Charlemagne
convened an assembly of bishops in November 809, at Aachen. The Council proclaimed the orthodox
doctrine in regard to the procession of the Holy Ghost, and seems to have
sanctioned the continued use of the Filioque in the Creed. For the sake of
having the matter settled, Charlemagne sent to the Pope an embassy composed of
a bishop and an abbot.
Conference at Rome, 810
Early in the year 810, the Pope held a conference with
the legates of the emperor in the sacristy (secretarium) of St. Peter’s. When
various testimonies had been read, he declared that his belief was in
accordance with the authors quoted, and with the passages of the sacred
Scriptures adduced, and that he forbade anyone to teach or hold any doctrine
opposed to that of the Council at Aachen. The testimonies here spoken of were
doubtless extracts from the works of Theodulphus, bishop of Orleans, and
Smaragdus, abbot of St. Michel (now St. Mihiel), near
Verdun. It is from one of his letters to Charlemagne—to which such acts as we
have of the Roman synod were appended—that we know what went on in Rome between
the Pope and the emperor’s legates. In his work Smaragdus had made it his chief
object to collect the passages of Scripture that bear directly or indirectly on
this subject of the procession of the Holy Ghost; while Theodulphus aimed at
collecting texts from the Greek, and especially from the Popes and the Latin
Fathers. After the declaration of the Pope above rehearsed, an informal
discussion took place, which the abbot Smaragdus, who was himself present, says
he could not undertake to write down (clearly). By degrees the discussion took
a more formal character, of which the worthy abbot has left us a most
interesting summary. Of course, it was at once quite plain to the envoys that
there was no difference in point of faith between the Pope and themselves. But
they naturally wished to get their custom of singing the Creed, with the Filioque
addition, recognized by the Pope. Hence they argued that since it was true that
the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, that truth ought to be
taught. To this Leo agreed. Why not then teach the truth by singing? Teaching
by singing, replied the Pope, is a good method, but it is not good to insert
words where one has no right. The envoys admitted that they were aware that the
Fathers of the different ecumenical councils had forbidden additions to be made
to the Creed, but they asked whether it would not be lawful to sing the
Filioque, if they (the Councils) had inserted it. It would, assented the Pope.
Would not the Fathers of the General Councils have done well if they had
inserted such an important addition, persisted the envoys? No doubt, was the
answer; but as they did not insert it, they had very good reasons for their
omission of the addition. Before night put an end to the discussion, the Pope
pointed out that it was impossible to put all the articles of faith into the
Creed.
When the conference was reopened next day, the envoys
urged that the Filioque had been added solely with the laudable object of instructing
the people on a most important point of doctrine. Whereupon Leo reminded them
that after the Fathers of the different Councils had forbidden people to tamper
with the Creed on their own authority, it made no matter with what intention
they acted when they violated the decrees of the Fathers. But have you not
yourself given leave for the singing of the Creed, put in the envoys? The Pope
allowed that he had permitted the
singing of the Creed, but not with the addition, told them they had better
follow the custom of the Roman Church, and asked what it was to him (Quid ad nos)
that the Franks could urge that they had not originated the custom. The
irrepressible Franks now adduced their final argument, and acutely insisted
that to drop the Filioque would be to cause the people to think that it was not
true that the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and from the Son. Could the
Pope tell them what was best to be done, therefore, under the circumstances? “Had
I been asked”, retorted the Pope, “before the custom of singing the Creed in
your manner began, I should have told you not to make the insertion”. As it
was, he advised, not commanded, that, on the ground that it was not sung in the
Church of Rome, their custom of singing the Creed should be gradually
abandoned. Then what had been established rather from love of novelty than by
authority would be gradually abandoned by all. An unlawful custom would thus come
to an end and nobody’s faith would be injured.
Whether or not the Pope’s wise advice was followed in
the Royal chapel we do not know; but the custom of the West was not abandoned.
Had his prudent counsels, however, been followed, much difficulty would have
been avoided. When in the days to come the Greeks sought an occasion to quarrel
with the Western Church, their only tangible argument (the Filioque) would not
have been forthcoming. Meanwhile, to show “his love for the orthodox faith”,
says his biographer, “Leo caused two shields of silver, weighing 94 lbs. 6 ozs., to be cast. On one of them, in Greek, and on the
other, in Latin, he caused the Creed to be inscribed without the Filoque. This he did to afford a standing proof that the
Roman Church preserved the Creed as it had come down to her. These shields Leo
hung up, one on the right and the other on the left of the confession of St.
Peter, and as late as the eleventh century they were seen by St. Peter Damian.
He put up a corresponding one in the confession of St. Paul”.
Of the joint efforts of Charlemagne and Pope Leo III for
the refutation of Adoptionism, and of the Council held at Rome against its able advocate, Felix
of Urgel, in 799, mention has already been made under Pope Hadrian I. Their mutual
relations with Fortunatus of Grado may well engage our attention now.
Fortunatus, patriarch of Grado
On the authority of the Annals of Venice, Muratori informs us that to the bishopric of Olivola Castello, an island that now forms part of Venice,
there was elected a Greek of the name of Christophorus,
at the instance of the Greek emperor Nicephorus and by the influence of John,
the Doge of Venice. But the tribunes of Venice, who did not approve of this
Greek interference, begged the patriarch of Grado, also named John, not to
consecrate Christophorus. John yielded to their
wishes, and even excommunicated the bishop-elect. Furious at this, the Doge
sailed over to Grado and had the refractory prelate hurled from the top of a
high tower. The tribunes, however, contrived to bring about the election of
Fortunatus of Triest, a relation of the murdered
patriarch, to the vacant See of Grado. The Pope approved the choice, and sent
Fortunatus the pallium (March 21, 803). The treatment that had been meted out
to his predecessor and relative led Fortunatus to conspire with some of the
chief men in the State against the Doge. The plot was discovered, and
Fortunatus fled for his life to Charlemagne. He found the emperor at Saltz (Koenigshofen), presented
him with some beautiful gifts and implored his assistance. This Charlemagne
granted, and even took him into favor and wrote to the Pope to ask him to allow
the exiled patriarch to have the then vacant See of Pola,
as “he did not wish to appoint him anywhere without consulting with the Pope”.
The Pope consented (806), on condition that, if his See of Grado were restored
to Fortunatus, he was to leave the See of Pola in
every way intact just as he found it. But in a postscript to the letter he
wrote to Charlemagne on this matter, the Pope asked him to use his influence
with Fortunatus for the good of the latter’s soul, as he had not heard good
reports of him, either whilst he was in Italy or France.
The joint action of Charlemagne and Leo in a case much
nearer home serves to give us an insight as to the blessings that would have
accrued to Europe, not from an ideal Roman emperor, but even from a succession
of rulers like Charlemagne. With such emperors and such a union of Church and
State as existed in the days of Charlemagne and Leo, the great standing armies,
which sap the strength of modern Europe, and are a perpetual menace to its
peace and to the priceless blessings that flow therefrom, would not be needed.
At this time, when from years of wild anarchy the once
powerful kingdom of Northumbria was fast going to pieces, its king, Eardulf,
who when only a noble had been wounded it was thought to death, had been seized
by his enemies and cast into prison (806). During the time of his power he
would seem to have acknowledged some kind of superior authority in the emperor,
and to have cultivated the friendship of the Pope in a particular manner.
Hence, both took an active interest in his misfortunes. Both sent special
messengers to Northumbria. Whilst the emperor’s messenger succeeded in
obtaining the king’s release (808), the Pope’s envoy heard what both parties
had to say on the merits of the case; for appeal to the Pope had been made in
the first instance. Leo expresses his delight to the emperor that his action
saved the life of the king, and assures Charlemagne that this “imperial defence”
of his is praised on all hands. After visiting Charlemagne at Nimeguen, about Easter 808, Eardulf went on to Rome. He
would seem to have satisfied the Pope as to his right to the throne; for in the
beginning of the year 809, he left Rome and was escorted back to his kingdom by
the envoys of the emperor and the Pope. On this incident Gregorovius remarks : “Rome,
it is true, had already beheld kings, more especially from the British Isles,
come to take the cowl. Eardulf was, however, the first to sue in the Lateran
for the restoration of the crown of which he had been deprived. The instance
shows the views which were arising in the West concerning papal authority. And
since, after Pippin’s days, it was kings themselves who, for the sake of
temporal advantage, exalted the conception of the Roman episcopate in the eyes
of peoples and princes, we cannot be surprised that these bishops, renouncing
the idea of spiritual intercession, soon arrogated to themselves the divine
power of giving and removing crowns”. The concluding statement in the foregoing
quotation is simply a groundless assertion of Gregorovius himself, for which he
does not venture to advance the smallest semblance of proof. And it should be
observed that men do not arrogate to themselves power freely placed in their
hands; so that if, in the Middle Ages, we find popes from time to time
adjudicating on the rights of kings to their thrones—not arrogating to
themselves the divine power of giving and removing crowns at pleasure—we might
say, with Gregorovius himself, that this exercise of authority was the result
of the free appeal to Rome of kings themselves. It was certainly, however, the
legitimate outcome of the feudal ideas of the Middle Ages. In the eyes of men
in those times, not only was every man in each kingdom subject to an overlord,
but in the union which then existed between Christian states and the Church, kings
themselves were taken to be responsible for the proper exercise of their power
to the ultimate tribunal of the See of Rome.
Eanbald II, archbishop of York
There was being discussed at Rome at the same time as that of Eardulf, the case of the Archbishop
of York, Eanbald, the second of that name, a man of great influence, and
seemingly somewhat worldly. Whether this was in connection with the affair of
king Eardulf (whose enemies he was said to have harbored), or with some other
business, is not clear. It has been conjectured that it concerned the endless
dispute between the archbishops of York and Canterbury on the subject of the
primacy. For his pallium this prelate was indebted to the exertions of Alcuin,
who had been his master. Sometime before August 797, Alcuin wrote to Pope Leo :
“In behalf of the envoys—who have come from my country and my city, according
to canonical and apostolic custom and the command of Blessed Gregory our
apostle, to beg the dignity of the sacred pall—I humbly beg you to graciously
listen to the prayers of a necessitous church. For in those parts the dignity
of the sacred pallium is necessary to overcome the wicked and preserve the
authority of the holy church”. Eanbald received his pallium on the 8th 3
September 797.
Whatever the case of Archbishop Eanbald was, it
greatly saddened the Pope, and he daily prayed at the Confession of St. Peter
that the dispute between Eanbald and Wulfred of Canterbury might come to an
end. Charlemagne had interested himself in this matter as in that of Eardulf,
and Leo begged him to continue his good offices. In answer to a request from
Charlemagne that the Pope would send by a suitable envoy “a hortatory letter of
his apostolic authority” to Eanbald, to summon him to Rome or to state his case
in the emperor’s presence, Leo replied that he had already composed such a
letter and sent it on to Charlemagne to be forwarded at once by one of the
emperor’s envoys, as his own was not yet ready. As no more of this affair is
known, it may perchance be concluded that this combined papal and imperial
action was as successful in dealing with Eanbald as in restoring Eardulf.
The other relations of Leo with this country may be now
suitably treated of in chronological order. With the approach of the ninth
century and its Danish inroads, the glory of the Anglo-Saxon, which was at its
height during the seventh and eighth centuries, began to set. With the general
confusion in the civil order, disorders were increasing in the ecclesiastical.
One of these was the abuse of nominating laymen to be superiors of monasteries.
This breach of the canons Ethelheard, the Archbishop of Canterbury, condemned by
the commands of Pope Leo in a synod at Beccanceld (or
really at Clovesho in 803), declaring that whoever did not observe “this decree
of God, and of our Pope, and of us”, would be accountable to the judgment seat
of God, and concluding: “I, Ethelheard, Archbishop, with twelve bishops and
twenty-three abbots, do confirm and ratify the same with Christ’s rood token”.
About the same time the Archbishop had another breach
of discipline to contend against, which also called for the intervention of the
Pope. On the death of the last descendant of Hengist,
the throne of Kent became vacant. It was seized by Eadbert Praen, a cleric, in 796. Unable to pass over this
violation of the canons, Ethelheard turned to the Pope, who excommunicated Eadbert, and threatened to call on the inhabitants of
Britain to punish his disobedience. But this same year, Cenulf, who had succeeded
the powerful Offa in the kingdom of the Mercians (796), made Eadbert’s action an excuse for invading Kent. The
unfortunate man was soon deprived of his kingdom and of his eyes (797 or 798).
It should be noted that the dates of the ecclesiastical affairs of England at this
time are by no means easy to fix with any degree of certainty. Those here given
are in accordance with the best authorities.
On another very important matter Ethelheard and Cenulf
were acting in harmony at this same period. William of Malmesbury describes
Ethelheard as a man of considerable energy and of great influence with the
powerful ones of his time. This influence he used to win back the jurisdiction
that belonged to the See of Canterbury till the time when, by the efforts of
King Offa and the authority of Pope Hadrian, the extent of its sway was
curtailed. Ethelheard first secured the co-operation of Eanbald II of York.
These two metropolitans pointed out to King Cenulf the injustice that had been
done the old See of Canterbury by the erection of Lichfield into an Archiepiscopal
See. Cenulf, who “was inferior to no preceding king in power or in faith”, when
he heard what was the ancient ecclesiastical discipline of the country, at once
consented to use his influence with the Pope for the restoration of the ancient
order of things. He accordingly wrote (797) to the Pope a letter, which began :
“To the most holy and truly loving Lord Leo, Pontiff of the sacred and Apostolical See, Cenulf, by the grace of God, king of the
Mercians, with the bishops, princes, and every degree under our authority,
sends the greeting of the purest love in Christ”. Cenulf thanks God for giving
the Church such a worthy ruler, in succession to Hadrian, as the present Pope.
For “we who live on the farthest confines of the world, justly boast, beyond all
other things, that the Church’s exaltation is our safety, and its prosperity
our constant ground of joy, since your apostolical dignity and our true faith originate from the same source”. After begging the
Pope’s blessing, recalling to his mind the ecclesiastical constitution of the
country laid down by Pope Gregory, and the action of Offa, who “through enmity
against the venerable Jaenberht (Lambert) and the
Kentish people”, obtained from Pope Hadrian the pallium for the bishop of the
Mercians, Cenulf asked Leo to take the matter into his consideration, and let
him know what had to be observed in the matter for the future. The king
concludes by offering the Pope a “small gift, for friendship's sake”, of 120 mancuses.
The same year there came back an answer from the Pope
to the effect that he was glad to find that, like his predecessors, Cenulf came
for truth to the Church of St. Peter; that Pope Hadrian would not have lessened
the jurisdiction of the See of Canterbury against the custom, had not King Offa
given the Pope to understand that it was the general wish, both on account of
the extent of the territory ruled by the king of the Mercians and other weighty
reasons; that he confirmed the primacy of Canterbury, and that he would like to
remind the king that his predecessor had promised no less a yearly sum than 365 mancuses for the poor and for “the lights” of St.
Peter.
It would appear that Lichfield made a stand for his
newly acquired privileges. Ethelheard found it necessary to go to Rome in
person to plead his cause. He was completely successful. The Pope issued
(January 18, 802) a formal decree—perhaps the only fully dated document of this
affair—in which, “by virtue of the authority of St. Peter”, he granted the restoration of its ancient rights to the
See of Canterbury. He also wrote at the same time to King Cenulf, assuring him
of the gratification he felt at learning from the king’s two letters, brought
by Ethelheard, that the king was prepared “to humbly submit in all things to
the apostolic decree ; ... to have given his life for that of the Pope, if he
had been nigh, out of respect for his office (doubtless an allusion to the
attack on the Pope’s life), ... and to
receive the Pope’s letters of kindest admonition with all humility”. Leo
accepts the 120 mancuses, and continues: “As you take
notice in your royal letters that no Christian dares to contravene our
apostolic decrees, we accordingly endeavor to decide what is of advantage to
your kingdom; so that what our brother Ethelheard, or the whole body of
evangelical and apostolic doctrine of the holy fathers and our holy
predecessors has ordained, under canonical censure, for you, and your princes
and people, you ought not, by any means, to resist at all their orthodox
doctrine. For Our Lord has said, ‘He that receiveth you, receiveth me ‘(Matt. X. 40)”. After praising the
archbishop, Leo goes on to say that, “by the authority of Blessed Peter ... whose place, though unworthy, we hold”,
he gives him such power that, if any of his subjects, “as well kings and
princes as people, shall transgress the Lord’s commandments”," he will
excommunicate him till he repent. In conclusion, “having discovered the truth
of the matter”, the Pope says he has restored his rights and privileges to the
Archbishop of Canterbury.
On his return to England, Ethelheard held a synod at Clovesho.
Here, in accordance with the authoritative precept of his prerogative, the
honor of St. Augustine’s See was restored in its completeness, “just as St.
Gregory, the Apostle and Master of our nation, arranged it”. And if anyone,
king or bishop, dared in the future to lessen the honor due to the metropolitan
See, he was to understand that he would be damned “unless before his death he
made reparation for the injury he had inflicted on the Church, contrary to the
canons”. After this no more was ever heard of the Archbishop of Lichfield. This
same year the sturdy champion of the rights of Canterbury died. He was
succeeded by Wulfred, of whom the first chronicle of our nation records that he
received the pallium in 806, went to Rome, along with the bishop of Sherburn, in 832 (really in 834), and “with the blessing of
Pope Leo”, returned to his own bishopric in 813, i.e. in 815.
If all is not clear with regard to that portion of our
history which has been just narrated, there is a still thicker haze over the
part now to be explored. Beginning our investigations with the commencement of Wulfred’s pontificate (805-32), we find that while it is
certain that he received his pallium from Rome, it is not certain whether he
went for it himself or not. There is extant a fragment of a letter written “to
a venerable Pope Leo” by “all the bishops and priests of the whole of the
island of Britain”. It is possible that this epistle may have been indicted
during a vacancy in the See of Canterbury; and, if so, the necessity of synchronizing
such a vacancy with the reign of a Pope Leo, would point to Leo III as its
recipient. On the other hand, as there is nothing to force the conclusion that
it was written during the vacancy of the See, whereas, on the contrary, though
only recently deceased, Alcuin (t804) is quoted as an historical authority like
Bede, it would seem that it was addressed to a later Leo, probably to a
tenth-century Leo. For at that time the general disorder in Italy, and the fact
that many of the passes of the Alps were in the hands of the Saracens, rendered
the journey to Rome highly dangerous. At any rate the writers of the letter,
quoting Bede, point out that at first the pallium was sent to the archbishops,
and that they had not, as they have now, to encounter the difficulties and
dangers of a journey to Rome. They also note, and here the fragment abruptly
ends, that in the beginning no money was exacted when the pallium was granted.
Evidently, then, the burden of the document was to obtain for the archbishops
of Canterbury—evidently personally acting in their own interests—permission not
to have to go to Rome for the pallium, and not to have to pay a sum of money when
they received it. If Leo III ever received this request, it is certain that he
did not accede to it. A full century had to elapse before Canute the Great succeeded
in obtaining from Rome the abolition of the gratuity paid on the reception of
the pallium.
Most of Wulfred’s pontificate was spent in quarrelling with Cenulf, King of Mercia, although, as
we have seen, it was that prince who restored “its faltering dignity to Canterbury”.
As early as the year 808, the two were on bad terms. The king was at that
moment in opposition to both the archbishops of England. These initial
troubles, whatever was their exact nature, seem to have been soon smoothed
over. Whether the archbishop’s journey to Rome in 814, “on the business of the
English Church”, had any connection with further difficulties between Cenulf
and himself is not certain. But, at any rate, in a year or two after this, what
our authorities set down as the “violence and avarice” of the king caused a
serious breach between them; for he seized two of his monasteries and accused
him to the Pope. The result of the appeal to Rome seems to have been that the
archbishop was deprived of the right of exercising his powers, and a species of
interdict was laid upon the whole country. “For nearly six years the whole of
the English people was deprived of its primatial authority and of the ministry of holy baptism”.
Whether king or archbishop was more to blame in this
matter, the interdict must have stirred up a great deal of unpopularity against
the former. He became anxious to bring about at least a seeming reconciliation
with Wulfred. He accordingly summoned a Witan to meet in London, and invited
the archbishop to attend it under a safe conduct. When he had thus secured his
presence, he calmly proposed that, on condition of his giving up more of his
property to him, he would either clear him before the Pope, or, if that proved
to be impossible, he would restore to him the money he had received from him.
On the other hand, if he did not comply with his new demand, he would deprive
him of everything he possessed, send him into exile, and never permit him to
return, whatever might be said “by the lord Pope, the emperor, or anybody else”.
Terrified by these threats, the archbishop, after a
long opposition, at length agreed on condition that the rest of his rights were
respected. But no sooner had the faithless king got what he wanted, than (822)
he not only kept his ill-gotten goods till the hour of his death, but continued
his course of plundering the helpless primate. Even after the king’s demise the
archbishop could not at once recover his property. Matters were not
satisfactorily arranged between him and Cenulfs heirs
till the council of Clovesho in 825.
The avarice of Cenulf is also shown in a narrative
which has been preserved for us by the Historia Monasterii de Abingdon. The Mercian king had two
sisters as remarkable for their virtue as for their beauty and grace. Resolved
to consecrate their lives to God, they steadfastly refused the offers of marriage
made to them by the noblest in the land, and begged their brother to give them
a piece of land, “free from all secular dues”, in which they might be buried,
and which, after their death, might go to the monks of Our Lady of Abingdon.
With the consent of the lords spiritual and temporal of his kingdom, Cenulf
granted them “the villa (estate) which is called Culeham”.
By the decision of the secular authority it was to be free from all temporal
jurisdiction save that of the abbot of Abingdon, and by a bull of Pope Leo,
procured by the king, from the spiritual authority of the bishop. The Pope also
confirmed the monastery in its possession of the villa, and begged the king to
do likewise. Before the king’s charter was forthcoming, however, he had quarreled
with the abbot of Abingdon. His “hunters and hawkers, after the fashion of men
of their class”, harried the property of the abbey. In vain did the abbot Rethun appeal to the king. As he could not get justice from
him, he went to Rome and appealed to the Pope. With Leo he was more successful
in his quest for justice. But it was one thing to return to England with
letters of protection and privilege from Rome, and another to induce the king
to pay heed to them. Now by smooth speeches and now by threats, Cenulf
procrastinated, and Pope Leo died in the interim. Rethun,
therefore, tried what gold would effect in the way “of obtaining the king’s
love and a final remedy”. The king’s heart was straightway unlocked, and a
royal decree proclaimed the inviolability of the monastery and its possessions,
at the request, as it declared, “of the lord apostolic and most glorious Pope
Leo”, but really, as we know, in consideration of the abbot’s gold. “Lest the trouble
should arise again”, Rethun committed the whole case
to writing; and it is no doubt from this account that the thirteenth century
compiler of the history of Abingdon drew his materials.
Affairs of the East
During all this time, affairs in the capital of the
Eastern Empire had not been moving very smoothly, either politically or
ecclesiastically. By the action of his mother, Irene, Constantine VI lost his
throne and his eyes (August 797). She was in turn deposed by her avaricious
treasurer Nicephorus, who lost his life (July 811) in a campaign against the
Bulgarians. His son Stavrakios was forced by his
brother-in-law, Michael Rhangabe, to retire to a
monastery after a reign of two months. By the return of the wheel of fortune,
Michael, who “was a weak, well-meaning man”, was himself obliged to embrace the
same monastic state (July 813) by Leo V (the Armenian). Clearly the political
conditions of the Eastern Empire cannot have been very sound during the life of
Pope Leo III. And if there were troubles in the State, there were also troubles
in the Church. These latter were the more unfortunate that they had their
origin, at least, in the misunderstandings of good men. They arose between
Tarasius, the patriarch of Constantinople, and certain monks. The monks
regarded the patriarch as over-indulgent to sinners, and somewhat too plastic
in the hands of the emperor. If Tarasius was prudent to a degree verging on cowardice,
the monks were zealous to a similar point of rashness. Their chiefs were the
abbot Plato and his nephew, Theodore the Studite (so called from being abbot of
the famous of Studion at Constantinople), who was a
relative of Constantine VI’s second wife, Theodota. “Most
of the abbots round Constantinople (at this time) were men of family and
wealth, as well as of learning and piety”. And as Plato and Theodore were the
men looked up to by the others, their power and influence may be the more
readily understood.
From two letters appended to the acts of the second ecumenical
council of Nicaea and other sources, the mistrust of Tarasius by the monks must
be referred to the days of Pope Hadrian. After the seventh ecumenical council
was over, some of the monks averred that many of the Greek bishops had obtained
their sacred office by simony, and accused the patriarch of restoring to their
positions those who had been condemned on account of this vice. Tarasius was
not slow to reply. He sent one of the above-mentioned letters to Pope Hadrian,
whom he speaks of as “adorned with the chief priesthood”, and “by right and the
will of God ruling the sacred hierarchy”. In it he denounces simony, declares
his freedom from it, and begs the Pope, “the words of whose mouth we obey”, to
pronounce against simony. The other letter Tarasius addressed to the abbot John.
He declared that, as he detested the severity of Novatian,
he of course received those who did penance for their simony. But of simony he
was not guilty himself, nor had he restored to their office those who had been
guilty of it. The impression, however, that the patriarch was too compliant
remained, and was soon deepened by a circumstance which, both before and since,
has brought much evil on many a good man.
Divorce of the Empress Maria, 795
The young
emperor Constantine VI got tired of his wife Maria, and fell in love with a
maid of honor, Theodota. He then tried to induce the
patriarch to approve of his design of repudiating Maria. For final answer he
heard from the patriarch, “I would rather suffer death and all manner of
torments than consent to his design”. Constantine, however, resolved to have
his own way. Maria was divorced, and Theodota was
married to the emperor (795) by the priest Joseph, “economus”
or treasurer of the Church of Constantinople, as Tarasius had of course refused
to perform the ceremony. When it was over, however, Tarasius, thinking that no
good would come of excommunicating the emperor, but rather harm, as Constantine
talked of renewing the iconoclast persecution, took no further action. The
monks, however, justly indignant at this flagrant breach of the laws both of
God and man on the part of the emperor, boldly declared against emperor and
patriarch together. “They considered that they had indeed found a Herod, but no
St. John the Baptist”. Constantine, finding that he could not gain over the
monks, inflicted upon them scourging, imprisonment, and exile. Plato and
Theodore were among those who were so treated. From Thessalonica, his place of
exile, Theodore wrote (797) to ask the help of Pope Leo. In his reply the Pope
bestowed great praise on the abbot’s wisdom and firmness, but was, under the
circumstances, not able to render any material aid. The deposition, however, of
Constantine VI.in this year by his mother gave freedom to the monks; and the
degradation of the priest Joseph by the patriarch reconciled them to
Tarasius.
The intrepid monks were soon in trouble again for opposing
the arbitrary conduct of the new emperor Nicephorus in nominating a layman, the
secretary and historian Nicephorus, as the successor of Tarasius, who died at
the beginning of 806. But the persecution which Theodore and his friends
brought upon themselves for this opposition was small compared to what they had
to suffer when they cut themselves off from communion with the new patriarch
Nicephorus, on the occasion of his restoring the treasurer Joseph to his office
at the bidding of the emperor. This act of the tyrannical Nicephorus was part
of his policy “to renders the civil power supreme over the clergy and the
Church”. Determined to make the monks submit, the emperor caused a council to
be held (January 809), in which various disgraceful decrees—to be specified
presently—were passed. The Greek emperors could always find a number of bishops
to put their names to anything. The monks, banished to different islands,
appealed to the Holy See. Among other letters to Leo, Theodore sent the
following : “Since Our Lord Jesus Christ gave to St. Peter the dignity of chief
pastor, it is to him or to his successor that, as we have learnt from our
fathers, we must give notice of any new errors that arise in the Church”. He
then went on to tell the Pope of the re-establishment of the priest Joseph and
of the synod which was held to condemn the monks, a synod which established a
heresy. It had declared that the adulterous marriage of the emperor
(Constantine VI) had been contracted in virtue of a dispensation; that the laws
of God are not for emperors; that those who fight even to death for truth and
justice are not the imitators of St. John the Baptist and St. Chrysostom, and
that each bishop is so far master of the canons that he can re-establish
deposed priests at his pleasure. If our opponents have not hesitated to hold,
on their own authority, an heretical council, whereas, according to ancient
custom, they ought not to have held even an orthodox one, without your (Leo’s)
knowledge, how much more necessary is it for you to assemble one to condemn
their error?
Leo’s reply to this letter is lost; but from a second
letter of Theodore we know the Pope sent him some rich presents, perhaps for
the support of the exiled monks. The emperor’s persecution of them only ceased
with his death (July 811). His successor Michael strove successfully to bring
about peace and reconciliation between the patriarch and the monks. The priest
Joseph was a second time degraded, and for a time, till the renewed outbreak of
the iconoclast heresy under Leo the Armenian, the Church of Constantinople
enjoyed a little peace. The great founder of the Studites did not fail to impress both upon the emperor and upon his own monks from what quarter
this greatest of blessings was to come. In all their religious troubles
recourse must be had to Rome. Writing towards the close of his life to the
former (Michael Rhangabe), in the name of all the abbots
of Constantinople, he said : “Should a question arise of which your divine magnanimity
hesitates to ask or fears to receive the solution of the patriarch, let your
powerful arm, strengthened of heaven, seek the decision of Old Rome, in
accordance with the custom established from the beginning by the tradition of
the Fathers. For it, it is, 0 emperor, imitator of Christ, which is the first
among all the Churches of God, viz., that of Peter the proto-throne, to whom
the Lord has said, Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church,
etc.” Upon his spiritual children he inculcated the absolute necessity of
harmony with the See of Rome, and not with that of Byzantium, which was an
heretical fragment on account of its frequent habit of separating itself from
the other Sees.
There are some historians who will only see in the
action of the aged Plato, and of Theodore and his friends at this period,
fanatical opposition of turbulent monks to constituted authority. For ourselves
we confess that, when we consider the usual subservience of the Greeks, whether
ecclesiastics or laymen, to the whims, however base, of the emperors, we find
in this opposition of the monks something very refreshing. Even if they
occasionally overstepped the bounds of prudence on the side of rashness, they
are worthy of lasting honor, as they contended for principles which lie at the
very foundation of the wellbeing of human society
Nicephorus sends his synodical letter to the Pope.
The patriarch Nicephorus took advantage of the accession
of Michael to send his synodical letter to the Pope, for Michael’s predecessor
had refused to allow him to do so. In the course of a very long profession of
faith, he proclaimed his belief in the seven General Councils, and begged the
Pope to supply anything that might be lacking in his profession. In conclusion
he excused himself for not sending to the Pope his synodical letter before, on
the ground of the difficulties of resisting the powerful, and not from contempt
or ignorance of what was the correct method of procedure. He begged the Pope to
pray to St. Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, for him.
To bring about external as well as internal tranquility,
Michael concluded a treaty of peace with Charlemagne—a treaty which that sovereign
caused to be ratified by the Pope before it was finally delivered (812) into
the hands of the Greek ambassadors.
The Pope and the Saracen corsairs
Of the many other transactions which must have passed
between Leo and Charlemagne after his accession to the empire, or of the
relations between the former and Pippin and Bernard, who along with him bore,
in succession, the title of “King of the Lombards”, our authorities note but
few. However, except for that negligible kind of friction which accompanies the
contact of the smoothest of bodies, the intercourse between the representatives
of the highest spiritual and temporal authorities in the West was preeminently
amicable. By his numerous letters the Pope kept the emperor in touch with the
political variations of the peninsula. Presents were constantly passing between
them, and in matters of general policy Leo endeavored to conform with the
wishes of his protector. It is true he has not unfrequently to complain of the imperial missi. They are either interfering or incompetent.
It is equally true that, nettled at these complaints which he had good reason
to fear were just, but which, from the material at his disposal, he could not
well help, the emperor testily declared he could not find missi to please him.
But the disagreements between them were merely surface troubles. The main
currents of their respective policies flowed steadily and harmoniously together.
Nor, indeed, was there any reason why they should not, as Charlemagne did not,
speaking broadly, abuse his position as guardian (custos) and defender of the
Church, “despite the efforts made by many to blacken the Pope in his eyes”.
Their political union is well seen in their joint
action against the Saracen corsairs of Africa and Spain, who had begun their
destructive raids in the early years of the century. Charlemagne advised the
Pope to take certain precautionary measures, such as maintaining a fleet. Leo
acted on the advice he had received; and, while he had to report the plundering
by the Moors of the islands of Ponza (off Gaeta) and
Ischia (off Naples), and the sad want of union of the maritime powers of South
Italy, he was proud to be able to write that “our territories” were safe. This
happy state of affairs he ascribes to the warnings and advice he had received
from the emperor and to his keeping his coasts well watched in consequence. Not
feeling himself competent, however, to see to the safety of Corsica, he had
handed it over to the care of Charlemagne.
Though, moreover, he had no more faith in the
competency of Pippin than had his father he undertook, when he should come to
Rome, to receive him “as became the son of so great a defender of the Church of
God”, and he consulted with him about the defence of the coasts and about the
churches, “that they might get their dues (justitias)”. Not in vain did he
take counsel with him or with Charlemagne about the rights of the churches. He
recovered various patrimonies belonging to the Roman Church situated between
Gaeta and the mouth of the Garigliano (Liris). Near
the latter place rose a new town, called after his name Civitas or Castrum Leopoli, and there dwelt the papal rector of the patrimony dignified with the title of consul.
Ordinarily speaking these rectors were deacons of the Roman Church, but Gay
maintains that those to whom we are now referring “were members of the local
aristocracy, inhabitants of the Byzantine territory of Gaeta, and that it was
probably only on this condition that the popes were enabled to recover their
domains”. He points out that the same names are to be found in documents which
concern the territory of Gaeta and in those which have reference to the
patrimony; and that, while the former are dated with the name of the emperor,
the latter bear that of the Pope.
Death of Charlemagne, 814
The year before his death, Charlemagne associated with himself in the empire his son Louis of
Aquitaine (September 813), as his other two sons, Charles and Pippin, had died.
The young Bernard, a natural son of Pippin, was allowed to hold Italy, as its
king, in subjection to Louis.
Early in the following year, as the inscription on his
tomb sets forth, died Charles the Great, in the seventy-third year of his age
and the forty-seventh of his reign, on January 28, 814, the seventh indiction. “No one can tell”, sighs Einhard,
“what grief was felt for him all over the earth. The very pagans mourned for
him, as the lord of the world”. Christendom, at least, had reason to lament.
For death had deprived it of the only arm strong enough to ward off the foes,
from within and without, which were again to reduce European civilization to
almost as low an ebb as the inroads of the barbarians in the fifth and sixth
centuries had done. It was this strength that was especially admired in him by Nithard, the bastard son of his daughter Bertha, and the
historian of the troubles under Louis the Pious. “What I take to be the most
admirable trait in him”, he says, “is this. He alone was able, by the terror of
the law (moderato terrore), to restrain the fierce
barbarity as well of the Franks themselves as of the barbarians,—a thing which
even the might of Rome had not been able to accomplish. So that they dared not
publicly take in hand anything which was not for the general good”. And if his
death was very evil for Frankland, it was still more
so for Rome, Italy, and the popes.
We shall soon see the great empire of Charlemagne
going to pieces. Its great nobles will soon everywhere make themselves
independent, and will soon be causing dire confusion by waging war indiscriminately
with their supposed sovereigns and with one another, and by oppressing with
impunity all that was physically weaker than themselves, whether in the Church
or State. The barbarians too had begun their assaults from without. In England
and in Ireland the Northmen had already begun the
work of demoralization by their savage inroads. Before the middle of this
century they had harried the coasts of Spain and inflicted on the Moslem the
cruelties they were themselves then engaged in practicing in other parts. In
836 they had sailed up the Rhine, burning and destroying as far as Nimeguen (Nijmegen). Even before the death of Charlemagne
they were constantly making descents on the coasts. But that great monarch “constructed
a fleet for the war against the Northmen. For this
purpose ships were built on the rivers of Gaul and Germany, which flow into the
North Sea. As the Northmen were making a practice of
ravaging the coasts of Germany with constant harryings,
he posted towers and outlooks in all the harbors and at the mouths of those
rivers which ships could navigate... He did the same thing in the South, on the
coast of the provinces of Narbonne and Septimania, and all along the coasts of
Italy as far as Rome, for in those parts the Moors had lately taken to piracy.
Thus Italy suffered no great damage from the Moors, nor Gaul nor Germany from
the Northmen, during the reign of Charlemagne; except
that Centumcellae (the modern Cività Vecchia), a city
of Etruria, was betrayed to the Moors, who took and destroyed it; and in Frisia some islands off the German coast were plundered by
the Northmen”. From the passage just cited it will be
seen that what the Norsemen were to the Northern Seas, the Saracens were to the
Southern Seas of Europe. In 831, the latter had secured a hold of Sicily, and
before the middle of the century they had appeared before the walls of Rome.
When the strong arm and the clear head of Charlemagne were taken away, the
causes that were to produce in Europe the anarchy of the close of the ninth and
most of the tenth century were free to run their course unchecked.
Among the first to feel the evil effects of the death
of the great emperor was his friend the Pope, who was wont to declare how
necessary his life was to all good men. During the life of Charlemagne the two
had been of mutual advantage to each other. In return for the wise advice,
often acknowledged in the capitularies of the emperor, and for the books and
learned men supplied to him by the Pope, the latter received the protection
which he required against the aggressive ambition of his more powerful
subjects. Some of these latter entered for a second time into a conspiracy to
compass his death. In some way, however, he became cognizant of the plot, and
this time, having had experience enough of the tender mercy he was like to
receive at the hands of Roman conspirators, he had them seized and executed.
When news of this affair reached the new emperor Louis, he was considerably
annoyed at it. Whether he had received a biassed account of the transaction, or whether he conceived that his rights as imperial
protector of Rome had been infringed, is not known. At any rate, he ordered
Bernard, the king of Italy, to proceed to Rome to investigate the matter. Taken
ill himself on his arrival in Rome, Bernard sent to the emperor the result of
the inquiries which he had caused to be made through Count Gerold who had accompanied him. The Pope sent to Louis his own ambassadors, as well
ecclesiastic as lay. On all the points that were urged against him, Einhard assures us that they completely satisfied the
emperor. Soon after this, when the Pope fell ill, insubordination again became
rife. This time the disorders arose outside the city. As an earnest of what
they would soon be doing on a more extensive scale, not only in the States of
the Church but in other countries of Europe, the disaffected nobles collected
bands of armed men and proceeded to ravage the country. The “domuscultae”, or “farm colonies”, which Leo had either
rebuilt or newly founded in connection with the various cities of the Campagna,
they plundered and burnt. They then determined to march on Rome to take by
force property which they maintained had been rent from them. Very likely they
claimed, as relatives, the estates of the conspirators which would have been
confiscated when the original owners of the property had met their death. To
what lengths these lawless nobles would have gone, had not their violence been
met by force, it is hard to say.
Bernard, however, sent word to the Duke of Spoleto to
quell the sedition; and, when his commands had been executed, he rendered an
account of the whole affair to the emperor.
Martin of Ravenna
Like many of his predecessors, Leo had to enter the
lists against the archbishop of Ravenna. The city itself had already felt the
touch of his fostering hand. He had sent his chamberlain with a band of workmen
to repair the noble sixth-century basilica of St. Apollinaris in Classe, then described as near Ravenna, but now that city
and sea have shrunk away from it, it stands, with the green mould upon its columns, like a tainted thing “alone in its rice fields” some three
miles distant from the city. The Roman workmen not only thoroughly repaired its
roof and quadriportico, of which no trace now
remains, but heated it by means of a hypocaust. To the church thus efficiently
restored the Pope made many beautiful presents—embroidered silks showing the
Nativity and other incidents of Our Lord’s life, and a canistrum (or plate to hang
beneath a lamp) of the purest silver and fifteen pounds in weight.
From Agnellus, who was a little boy at the time of
which we are writing, it appears that a certain Martin was consecrated
archbishop of Ravenna by Pope Leo himself in Rome, sometime before the year 810,
perhaps as early as 808. To curry favor with the powerful, Martin, on his
return to Ravenna, sent word of his accession to Charlemagne. For some cause
which Agnellus did not see fit to record, but which seems to have been
immorality and simony, Leo found it necessary to take proceedings against the
archbishop. Knowing that he had made it a point to stand well with the rulers
of the Franks, the Pope took the precaution of sending a legate to Louis to
secure his co-operation. The emperor entered heartily into his wishes, and sent
John, archbishop of Arles, into Italy with instructions to take Martin to plead
his cause at Rome. When John reached Ravenna he insisted that, on pain of the
loss of 2000 golden solidi, its principal citizens should see to it that their
archbishop betook himself to Rome. But to Rome Martin had no wish to go. However,
he acted as though it was his intention to proceed thither, but feigned illness
when he reached the ruined city known as Ad Novas,
some fifteen miles from Ravenna. He at once dispatched a messenger to Rome to
tell the Pope that he was really anxious to come to him, but that he was too
ill and too stout to ride on horseback. Annoyed though he was, as he was very
wishful to take him to task, Leo had no choice but to allow him to return to
his See. Unfortunately the narrative of Agnellus breaks off abruptly and
confusedly in the midst of a description of the efforts made by Martin to gain
the goodwill of the imperial missus by giving extraordinary entertainments in
his honor, or by making him some magnificent presents. However the episode
ended at the moment, it taught Martin a lesson, and when Leo’s successor
visited Ravenna, he manifested a very respectful demeanor.
It only now remains to tell something of Leo's work
in the domains of liturgy and art. In
the Book of the Popes we are told that he decreed that the Litanies of the
Saints should be recited and that processions should be made on each of the
three days preceding the feast of the Ascension, a decree observed to this day
throughout the Catholic Church. In contradistinction to the litanies said on
the 25th of Apri1, which are known as the Greater Litanies, these are known as
the Lesser Litanies. They were instituted for the same purpose as the former,
viz., to beg the blessing of God on the fruits of the earth. The custom of
reciting them had originated in Vienne as early as the year 470, under Bishop Mamertus, and had spread thence through Gaul to Rome.
Another ninth century author, Walafrid Strabo (f849), a contemporary of Leo’s biographer, says he had heard that that
Pope very often said Mass as many as seven or nine times a day. Strange as such
a custom may seem now, it must be noted that, even for centuries after his
time, it was left to the devotion or judgment of each priest to settle what
number of Masses he would say each day. This freedom of choice seems to have
been first limited by the Council of Seligenstadt (1022), which forbade priests to say more than three Masses a day. Alexander II
(d. 1073) still further limited the number. By his ruling a priest could say
only two Masses a day—one for the living and one for the dead. The present law
of one Mass only a day was introduced by Honorius III.
If during the pontificates of Hadrian and Leo the
papal treasury was unusually full, those large-minded and large-hearted
pontiffs emptied it in a royal and useful manner. The enormous presents which
the latter received from Charlemagne, both during that prince’s lifetime and
after his death by virtue of his will, helped him to become, if not the most,
certainly one of “the most munificent and splendid of the Roman pontiffs”. By
far the greater part of his biography in the Liber Pontificalis is taken up
with an enumeration of the costly offerings in silks and in the precious metals
which he made, for “love of our Lord and to atone for his sins”, to different
churches, and of the various restorations of buildings which he effected.
St. Benedict had foretold that Rome would not be
destroyed by the barbarians, but would crumble to pieces by storm and
earthquake. These potent forces, aided by neglect consequent on the fearsome
shrinkage of its population and on its poverty, had already begun their work of
destruction when the Saint’s biographer ascended the chair of Peter in 590.
“The very buildings do we behold crumbling around us”, is the cry of his broken
heart. Incessant fighting with the Lombards during most of the seventh and
eighth centuries effectually prevented any serious attempt being made to stem
the torrent of decay. Rome continued to go to destruction. But with peace and
wealth, the ruin of the city, at least on its ecclesiastical side, was arrested
by Hadrian and Leo. By the one it was the exterior of the fabrics, which,
speaking broadly, was restored, by the other the interior. Over one hundred and
sixty institutions are recorded by name to have benefited by the generosity of
Leo. Nor was it only churches, monasteries, and oratories which experienced his
devoted care. He gave of his abundance for the dispensing of that charity,
which “was a virtue altogether unknown in ancient times”, to both the deaconries
and the hospitals. Nor did his charity begin and end at home. His revivifying hand
reached not only to places in the more immediate neighborhood of Rome, but to
Albano and Palaestrina, to Porto and Ostia, to Velletri and Orvieto, and to distant Ravenna. The abodes of
the dead, the silent catacombs, were no less remembered by him. Not one of the
seven ecclesiastical regions but saw some of its churches at least transformed
by him. From the figures actually recorded in the Liber Pontificalis, it
appears that the ornaments in silver which he presented to the various churches
weighed more than 22,000 pounds, while those in very ruddy gold weighed some
1764 pounds. Many of the articles, chalices, covers of the books of the
Gospels, etc., are said to have been studded with rare gems. The vestments and
the various ornaments of silk which he distributed with a lavish hand, and
often “out of his own private means”, were embroidered most elaborately, and
often represented portions of the “story of Our Lord Jesus Christ, of His holy
mother, and of the twelve apostles”. It is more than probable that the
execution of all this splendid work would have been quite impossible had it not
been for the immigration of Greek artists resulting from the iconoclast
persecution. But whoever were the master-workmen, the orders given by Leo must
have been followed by a veritable revival of high-class trades in Rome.
Lapidaries and silversmiths, silk manufacturers, and workers in stained glass
and in the pre-eminently Christian art of glass mosaic must have had a very
busy time.
All the churches did not, of course, receive equal
attention at the hands of Leo. Most of the ornaments in gold went to St.
Peter’s, St. Paul’s Outside the Walls, and St. Mary Major's, which last
basilica he was anxious to adorn “on account of his very great love of Our Lady”.
If we tell what he accomplished for one or two only of the churches, monotony
will be avoided, and the reader, in possession of certain details, will no
doubt be able to form for himself a mental picture of the general church
restoration effected by him.
Leo, only naturally, did much for the great basilica
on the Vatican hill, “on account of his great love for St. Peter, his
foster-father”. Not only did he re-roof almost the whole of it, but he restored
the porticos which surrounded its atrium or paradise, the steps which led up to
it, the fountains which played before its silver gates, and the tower which
overlooked it. Its baptistery, which stood beyond the place where the north
transept was afterwards erected, and had already done duty for over four
hundred years, he enlarged and rebuilt. “Seeing”, says his biographer, “that
the baptistery, from its great age, was threatened with ruin, and that the
place was too small for the people who came for baptism, he rebuilt it from the
foundations, making it of circular form and of larger size, and placed the
sacred font in the midst of this enlarged space, and adorned it all round with
porphyry columns, and placed in the midst a column with a lamb upon it of pure
silver, pouring water ... He also adorned the baptistery all round with
pictures. At the same time he rebuilt from its foundations the Oratory of the
Holy Cross (which served as a sort of vestibule to the baptistery), which was
going to ruin from age, and adorned its apse with mosaics”.
One of the many inscriptions on the wall of the
baptistery contained the verse : “Una Petri sedes unum verumque lavacrum”. This line, as Lanciani notes, contains “an allusion both to the baptismal font and to the chair of S.
Peter upon which the popes sat after baptizing the neophytes. The cathedra is
mentioned by Optatus Milevitanus, Ennodius of Pavia, and by more recent authors, as
having changed places many times, until Alexander VII placed it in a case
of gilt bronze at the end of the apse (of the present St. Peter’s).... I saw it
in 1867. The framework and a few panels of the relic may possibly date from
apostolic times, but it was evidently largely restored after the peace of the
Church”.
For the sake of the poorer pilgrims, Leo looked to the
outbuildings of the great basilica. He rebuilt the place which had for ages served
to lodge them, built, moreover, a new abode for them, and erected baths for
their convenience.
But it was on the confession of St. Peter that he
lavished his care and treasure, “so that in his time the shrine attained the
summit of its splendor... In the confession he made gates of pure gold with
various gems ... He put many candelabra of silver round the altar and in the presbytery.
He made a new presbytery of beautifully sculptured marble; a fresh proof that
presbytery in dealing with St. Peter’s must be taken to denote the enclosed
choir. He covered the front of the altar from top to bottom with plates of
silver, and within the confession he placed images of the Saviour standing, and of St. Peter and St. Paul on the right and left; and the floor of
the confession he covered with gold. These images were apparently of mosaic,
and it is quite possible that the figure of Our Lord, which may be seen today
at the back of the recess of the confession, may be the very one that St. Leo
placed there. The figures of St. Peter and St. Paul are also still there, but
they have been entirely renewed. He put twisted columns of silver both at the
entrance of the body on the right hand and on the left, and also at the top of
the presbytery right and left, or on the side of the men and of the women,
eight pairs, weighing altogether 190 pounds. Also eight arches of silver
weighing 143 pounds ... He placed a golden image of the Saviour on the beam over the entrance of the vestibule ... and angels of silver gilt
right and left in front of the confession, and also the two other angels which
stand on the larger beam above the entrance of the vestibule, right and left of
the golden image of the Saviour”.
Very numerous and valuable are the recorded presents
which he made to the great basilica. Mention is made in the Liber Pontificalis
of incense stands and thuribles of gold, of crowns of
silver, of precious hangings and of vestments of silk adorned with gems and
embroidered with representations of Our Lord giving St. Peter the power of
binding and loosing, of the martyrdom of SS. Peter and Paul, etc. He presented
it also with candelabra of all sizes in gold or silver, with golden basins set
with jewels, with tables of gold, with crucifixes of pure silver, and with
chalices and other vessels for the altar in gold and silver. The books of the
Gospels which he gave it were bound with plates of gold inlaid with gems, and
the ciboriums were covered with the rich veils known
as tetravila.
When Leo became Pope, he did not forget his titular
Church of S. Susanna on the Quirinal. Hadrian, indeed, is said to have restored
the Church; but he cannot have done more than commence the work of renovation.
Built in the third century, it was, we are expressly told, on the point of
falling to pieces when Leo took it in hand After his work upon it, it was
really a new and larger building, resplendent with its sanctuary, its floor,
and its numerous columns all of marble. Up to the time when it was again
rebuilt, in the beginning of the seventeenth century, its apse displayed the
figure of the Pope in mosaic. Fortunately the design of the mosaic was copied
before the ruthless demolition of the apse in 1595. It exhibited Our Lord with
Charlemagne and Leo, both adorned with the square nimbus. The Pope was
represented as wearing the tonsure, as beardless, and as holding in his hand a
model of his church. So numerous and costly were the presents of church vessels
and vestments which he made to his favorite basilica, that the splendor of its
appointments must have well matched the marble glory of its buildings.
Without entering into further details regarding Leo’s
ceaseless work for the external glory of God’s House—to restore, for the solemn
worship of the Almighty, places which had become refuges for cattle—it may
suffice summarily to state that the result of his work and that of his
predecessor was to impart a most refreshing luster to the churches of Rome.
Their rich presents to them of plate and vestments will have given a beauty and
magnificence to the divine service which must have powerfully impressed the
pilgrims who flocked to the Eternal City, and hence must have given a
considerable impetus to the introduction and expansion of the arts of civilization
among the rising nationalities of Europe.
It has, however, been stated that one unfortunate
result of the innumerable buildings undertaken by Hadrian and Leo was that the “execution
of great designs became impossible, and a certain littleness is therefore
everywhere perceptible in the buildings of the period”. The remark is perhaps
misleading. Those two popes did certainly undertake innumerable building
operations, but they were practically all in the way of restoration. Where they
did not merely renew, they enlarged. So that littleness can scarcely be called
a result of the work of Hadrian or of Leo. Any littleness they left behind them
they had found; but they left a new city where they had found but a mass of
crumbling ruins.
Leo died in the month of June, and was buried in St.
Peter’s on June 12th (816), the day on which he is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology. “His”, in the words of Gregorovius, “was a
powerful nature capable of shrewd reasonings and bold views. The brief moment
in which he crowned the new emperor of the West in St. Peter’s made him the
instrument of the history of the world, and assured him an undying renown”, as,
we may add, the second founder with St. Gregory I of the medieval papacy. The
tomb of Pope Leo III no longer exists. In the twelfth century his remains, along
with those of popes Leo II and Leo IV, were translated by Paschal II to the
oratory where, from the end of the seventh century, had reposed the body of St.
Leo I, the Great. Today, these same remains are to be found in an old
sarcophagus, on which are reliefs of Christ and the Apostles, the sacrifice of
Isaac, etc., beneath the altar of the chapel of the Madonna della Colonna in
the right transept of the present St. Peter’s.
The silver grossos (denarii)
of Leo, which are still extant, and which are modeled on those of the Franks,
are significant of the union of Church and State which he made so close. They
bear at once the names of Leo himself, of St. Peter, and either of Charlemagne
(Carlus) or of Louis (Ludovvicus) Ipa (Imperator), as the case may be. All the examples of his coinage which have
reached us are of this type, with one exception. The unique specimen gives, in
place of the name Carlus, a figure of Charlemagne
carrying the sword and standard, as protector of the Church. The coins of Leo’s
predecessor, evincing an altogether different political situation, are without
the name of any other ruler but of Hadrian himself.