HISTORY OF THE POPES
 

THE LIVES OF THE POPES IN THE NINTH CENTURY

 

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.