GREGORY IV.

A.D. 827-844.

 

EMPERORS OF THE EAST.                                    EMPERORS OF THE WEST.

Michael II (the Stammerer), 820-829.                     Louis the Pious, 814-840.

Theophilus, 829-842.                                               Lothaire I, 823-855.

Theodora and Michael III, 842-856.

 

EVIL were the days in which fell the pontificate of Gregory IV, not so much for any particular ill that overtook the Pope himself as for the troubles which overtook the empire, and for the further development of the causes which, before the end of this ninth century, were to bring so much misery on Europe and degradation on the papacy. A monastic (Xanten) chronicler, who wrote brief jottings of the events of this period, interrupts them with the sorrowful remark : “At this time the kingdom of the Franks was terribly troubled within itself, and the wretchedness of men was daily greatly increased”. “All fear of kings or laws has faded from the hearts of many” is the assertion of Agobard of Lyons. The quarrels between Louis and his sons not merely destroyed the peace of the empire, which loss of peace was naturally accompanied by the spread of lawlessness and ignorance both among the clergy and laity, but gave the more powerful among them opportunities for still further lessening their dependence on any authority, and left the Saracens and Northmen freer to extend their ravages. It was whilst Gregory IV was Pope that Sicily was lost to the Eastern Empire and fell into the hands of the Saracens. The emperors of Constantinople were persecuting the image-worshippers and losing territory; the emperors of the West were interfering with the freedom of the Pope in his own city, and at the same time losing all authority at home.

Before Gregory died, a mortal blow had been struck at the authority of the emperor. On the field of Fontenay the domination of the Franks, through the slaughter on that terrible day of the flower of their race, had come to an end, and, by the treaty of Verdun (843), their empire had been finally broken up.

The successor of Pope Valentine was Gregory, a Roman, and the son of John. At the time of his election he was cardinal priest of the basilica of St. Mark, (336-137), a church which after he became Pope he completely rebuilt (833) and adorned with mosaics, much more splendid with their gold than artistic in their expression, for they were executed in the stiffest Byzantine style. Despite the renovations of Paul II (1468), the mosaics of Gregory still show him with a model of the church in his hand on the right of Our Lord. He is being presented to Him by St. Mark, the evangelist.

According to his biographer, Gregory was at once energetic and benign, adorned with piety and learning, modest but cheerful, and powerful in discourse, one who worked for the poor but sought himself in nothing. Illustrious by his birth, he was more so by his sanctity; handsome too in figure, but more beautiful from his faith. For these virtues he was distinguished from his early years, and he was raised to the priesthood by Pope Paschal.

The papal biographer proceeds to tell us of the distress of the Romans at the loss of popes Paschal, Eugenius, and Valentine in so short a time, and of their anxiety to find one “under whose rule”, he adds significantly, “the whole nobility of the senate might be able to live prosperously”. “Enlightened by God”, all the nobility turned their thoughts to Gregory; and, under their influence, all the electors, with one voice, chose the cardinal priest of St. Mark’s, whom they found in the basilica of SS. Cosmas and Damian. Unheeding his repeated declarations that he was unfit for so exalted an office, they carried him off in triumph to the Lateran palace, where he was declared duly elected (827). From this period till his death, his biographer practically gives us no further information about him except in connection with his building operations, or with his countless gifts to different churches, on the ground that he could not readily sum up all that the Pope had done.

Interference of the imperial envoys

 But the Roman nobles were not destined to get their own way quite as easily as they had hoped. Though we do i not know for certain either the exact day on which Gregory was elected, or that on which he was consecrated, we do know that he was not consecrated, till his election had been approved by the emperor Louis. It was not that the Romans sent word to him of the election of Gregory, and craved his approval of it, as they used to do under the Byzantine sovereigns. The initiative in the matter was taken by the imperial envoys, who were bent on asserting their master’s authority. They appealed to the constitution of 824, and forbade the consecration of the Pope-elect until Louis had satisfied himself of the validity of the election. And there is reason to believe that some six months elapsed before the arrival of the imperial assent allowed the consecration to take place.

In Einhard, whose annals close with the year 829, we read of embassies from Rome to Louis in both the years 828 and 829. But of their purpose nothing is known for certain, nor do we know of any other important relations between the Pope and Louis till the fatal quarrels between him and his sons had began in earnest.

The embassy of the year 829 may, however, have been in connection with a dispute between the monastery of Farfa and the Roman See as to their respective rights in connection with certain properties. It would appear that the decision of Pope Paschal in 823 had not been put into effect, or, at least, that there was a difference of opinion as to what the popes had taken and what they had not. A document preserved in the Chronicle of Farfa, and dated January, the sixteenth year of the emperor Louis, the seventh Indiction, i.e. 829, tells us that bishop Joseph and count Leo, missi of the emperor, for the purpose of hearing causes, opened their court in the Lateran palace in the presence of Pope Gregory. Before them came Ingoald, abbot of the monastery of Farfa, in the duchy of Spoleto. Trusting to his charters of exemption obtained from the emperors, he asserted that popes Hadrian and Leo had by force possessed themselves of certain properties that belonged to the monastery, and that under the succeeding popes the monks had in vain tried to get justice. In support of his claims, Ingoald produced various deeds. These were allowed by the imperial missi, who decided that the lands in question should be restored to the monastery. The Pope, however, refused to accept the decision. Whether he regarded this whole trial as a violation of his sovereign rights, we know not. We are in equal ignorance of the result of his carrying the matter before the emperor. But from a fact, with the issue of which we are unacquainted, it is scarcely scientific with Muratori to draw conclusions against the supreme power of the Pope in the city of Rome.

First quarrel between Louis and his sons.

In the history of Louis the Pious we have a striking example of the truth, that weakness, even when more or less innocent in character, is often as injurious in its effects as malicious wickedness. Louis was naturally a weak man. All he desired was to be allowed plenty of time for hunting and for the performance of exercises of piety.” Quietissimus” is the description of him given by the anonymous monk of St. Gall. After the death of his first wife, Ermengarde (818), the weakness of his character became more apparent; and when, in 819, he was induced to marry Judith, the young, beautiful, insinuating, and fascinating daughter of the Bavarian count Welf, he fell completely under her influence. This count Welf (whose name appears in Italian as Guelf) is worth a second thought, as he was the founder of the Guelf family, which was hereafter to give its name to one of the great parties into which Italy was to be for so long miserably divided—the Guelfs and Ghibellins.

The new empress at once became supreme in the State, and, of course, lost no time in scheming to promote the interests of the son (known in history as Charles the Bald), to whom she gave birth in the year 823. Under the influence of her winning ways the young emperor Lothaire agreed to become his half-brother’s guardian, and to allow a kingdom to be carved out of his domains for him. Accordingly, with the most reckless disregard of consequences, the arrangement of 817 was broken, and an imperial edict proclaimed him king of Alamannia. He was crowned on June 6, 829. To strengthen his hands, Louis summoned to court, Bernard, the dashing duke of Septimania (or the Spanish March), entrusted his favorite child to his care, and made him “the second man in the empire”.

The infatuated monarch had now done everything to ruin his empire and his home. Judith preferred the society and love of the young and brilliant duke to her duty towards her devoted husband, who was neither young nor bright. Her illicit amours seem to have been known to everybody but to Louis, and justly scandalized the good, especially, of course, the clergy, the natural guardians of morality. Such as were possessed of any degree of state­craft, and these again were for the most part at this period in the ranks of the clergy, foresaw that the breaking of the constitution of 817 would prove fatal to the unity of the empire. From the Pope downwards did the clergy denounce its alteration as the cause of the troubles which came upon the empire. Of the nobles some were only too ready to foment any cause of disturbance in order that they might fish for themselves in troubled waters; others were disgusted at the imperiousness of Judith, and the ambition of Bernard. Lothaire was easily induced to repent of the concessions he had made. And as Louis and Pippin had been indignant at the elevation of Lothaire, they were now even more indignant at the intrusion of their half-brother.Under the plea of restoring the empire, Pippin of Aquitaine applied the spark to this inflammable material, and, in the spring of 830, raised the standard of rebellion. The emperor was seized, Judith was forced into a monastery, and Bernard saved his life by flight. Those of the empress’s relatives, of whose undue advancement the sons of Louis also complained, who were unable to escape the vigilance of their enemies, were maltreated in various ways. At a diet held with the concurrence of Lothaire, at Compiegne, the emperor Louis had to declare that it was his will that the consitution of 817 should hold good. He was then himself placed by Lothaire under the surveillance of monks.

But many of the party in opposition were quite satisfied with the removal of Bernard and Judith, and with the undertaking that the arrangement of 817 should be left undisturbed. Towards Louis himself they had no ill-will; and they saw that under the weak but dictatorial Lothaire the affairs of the empire were daily going from bad to worse. From personal affection also, the Germans were attached to Louis. First their own ruler Louis, king of Bavaria, known as Louis the German, and then Pippin, fell away from their eldest brother. A reaction set in. In a diet at Nimeguen (October 830), Louis found himself restored to his position by the resolution of that assembly, and to his wife by the sentence of the Pope, who of necessity decided that Judith was not bound to remain in the convent, as she had been forced to take the veil.

Comparatively little punishment was inflicted on the rebels. Many of their leaders were, however, deprived of their property and exiled, and at a diet in the early part of the following year (February 831) Lothaire was deprived of his title of emperor. He was allowed, indeed, to retain the title of king of Italy, but was not to do anything of any importance without consulting his father.

Next year there were fresh disturbances, inasmuch as the younger sons did not receive for their desertion of Lothaire all they had expected. As a consequence, the emperor, in September (832), removed Pippin from his kingdom, and most unadvisedly gave it to his young favorite son Charles. It was plain that everything was to be sacrificed for Judith and her son. And it was to no purpose that Agobard, foreseeing what was coming, addressed his Flebilis epistola to Louis, entreating him to abide loyally by the constitution of 817. Practice had now made rebellion and the flouting of imperial authority quite easy and natural. Lothaire and Louis espoused the cause of Pippin, and once again the whole empire was ringing with the clamor of internal strife. And, just as in the rebellion of 830, perhaps most of the really virtuous and enlightened ecclesiastics and statesmen espoused the cause of the rebellious sons. Men of energy and character were disgusted at the uxorious weakness of the emperor Louis. They attributed, not indeed without reason, all the internal troubles which were breaking up the empire to the weak folly of Louis in destroying the arrangement of the kingdoms of the empire sanctioned by Rome and by general agreement in 817. They deplored the influence of Judith over him, and the careless way in which he managed the affairs of the empire in Church as well as in State, tolerating grave abuses in both. Such we know was the eminently plausible position taken up by Agobard, archbishop of Lyons, and by Wala.

Intervention of the pope.

Towards Easter 833, the emperor drew together his forces at Worms. His sons assembled theirs at Colmar. In the camp of Lothaire was Pope Gregory IV, who was to learn by his own experience how difficult it is to mediate, in a family quarrel especially, without incurring the suspicion of both parties. That Gregory acted throughout this miserable affair with the purest motives is abundantly evident, even from the writings of the friends of the emperor Louis. He was really anxious to bring about a lasting peace. And if he was desirous of working to preserve the unity of the empire, for what nobler cause, for what interest then more vital for the safety of Europe, could he strive? For the same end were struggling the most lofty-minded statesmen in Frankland, such as the abbot Wala and archbishop Agobard. Who, moreover, had more right to interfere in behalf of the unity of the empire than Gregory, seeing that it was from the hands of a Pope that the two emperors had received their crowns, and that it was the signature of a Pope which had confirmed the deed of 817? And so we find the biographer of Wala asserting that Gregory did come to work not only for peace, but also for unity, “that the empire might be saved”. Gregory’s motive in starting from Rome is given by the Astronomer. He was naturally, from his position, easily persuaded by Lothaire that he ought to make every effort to reconcile father and son. He was next assured that he alone could bring about this most desirable result. At last, after urgent entreaties, and perhaps partly deceived, he was induced to accompany Lothaire, and left Italy by the Pennine Alps. He sent word to Agobard that he wished fasts and prayers to be offered up that God might give success to his efforts to restore peace to the emperor’s household and kingdom. And when summoning the abbot Wala to him, he sent letters to that energetic partisan of the inviolability of the empire, on the subject of peace and the reconciliation of Louis and his sons.

The true partisans of unity conceived the highest hopes from the coming of the Pope, “the Prince of the Apostolic See, the light of golden Rome, the honor, teacher, and tender lover of the people”. But if the Pope was really in earnest in his efforts for peace, the whole conduct of Lothaire proves that he was not so. He was only working for his own ends. His first object was to gain time, which was all-important to a rebel host that had to come together from so many different quarters. A war of words was meanwhile carried on vigorously. The presence of Gregory in the camp of Lothaire not unnaturally gave the impression that he was committed to support the cause of the emperor’s sons. Whereas from Lothaire’s recorded action with regard to the Pope, there cannot be much doubt that he was kept in his camp by a judicious combination of persuasion, fraud, and quiet pressure.

The bishops of the emperor’s party, when summoned to come and meet the Pope, suspicious of his impartiality, refused to obey. They even talked of excommunicating him if he should have in mind to excommunicate them, language which even the Astronomer, who reports it, and is a friend of the emperor, does not fail to stigmatize as a piece of audacious presumption quite opposed to the language of the ancient canons. But in the excited and suspicious state in which the minds of men then were, we find that the bishops, inspired, no doubt, by the daring empress, went further. As Gregory’s reply to them shows, they threatened to depose him. Of all this we have knowledge from a letter of the Pope which, in a more or less complete form, is cited by Agobard in his short tract on “The Comparison between Ecclesiastical and Civil Government”, but which is printed separately in the collection of Agobard’s letters in the Monumenta Germania..

In the early part of this pamphlet Agobard does not fail to point out to the bishops of the emperor’s party that there might be some ground for their hostility towards the Pope, if he had come in a hostile spirit; but that as he had come on an errand of peace, he must be obeyed.

Gregory was naturally annoyed by the blind opposition which the ecclesiastics who remained faithful to the emperor had evinced towards him; and he began to think that perhaps he had better retire without making any further efforts at a reconciliation, as feeling was evidently running too high to give much room for reason. But the abbot Wala and his friend and biographer the monk Paschasius Radbert comforted the Pope by reminding him, by means of quotations from the Fathers and his predecessors which they handed him in writing, that his was the power and authority, derived from God and St. Peter, to go to all the nations to proclaim the true faith, or to make peace. “In you”, they said, “is all the authority of Blessed Peter, that great and living power, by which all must be judged, while you yourself cannot be judged by anyone”.

Encouraged by this reminder of the charge that had been laid upon him, Gregory proceeded to address a sharp rejoinder to the letter he had received from the bishops of Louis. To cite the excellent summary of Jaffe: “He chastised their insolence, repelled their charges, and derided their threats”. You professed, urged the Pope, to have felt delighted when you heard of my arrival, thinking that it would have been of great advantage for the emperor and the people; you added that you would have obeyed my summons had not a previous intimation of the emperor prevented you. But, continued Gregory, you ought to have regarded an order from the Apostolic See as not less weighty than one from the emperor. Besides, it is false that the emperor’s prohibition preceded your receiving mine. He then lays down the principle which every God-fearing man must regard as fundamental : “ government of souls, which belongs to bishops, is more important than the imperial, which is only concerned with the temporal”. Gregory brands as shameless their assertion that he has only come blindly to excommunicate, and naturally holds up to contempt their offer to give him an honorable reception if he should come exactly in the way the emperor wants him. Their appeal to the oath of fidelity which he has taken to the emperor, Gregory twice distinctly declines to admit. He, however, allows it to pass, and says he will avoid perjury by pointing out to the emperor what he has done against the unity and peace of the Church and his kingdom. As the cause of all the subsequent troubles, the alteration of the partition of 817 is strongly denounced by the Pope. He upbraids the bishops for opposing his efforts in behalf of peace. “What they threaten has not been done from the beginning of the Church”.

If only Louis had acted vigorously, he would certainly have crushed his enemies; but, even when he began to move his forces forward, he continued to negotiate. Messengers were sent on the one hand to ask the Pope why he so long delayed to come to him, and on the other to remind his sons of their duty, and to ask them why they prevented the Pope from visiting him.

By the feast of St. John the Baptist (June 24, 833), the two armies stood facing each other at a place called Rothfield (Red field), afterwards, from the treachery manifested thereon, known as the Field of Lies, and thought to be what is now called Rothleucht (Red light), near Colmar. Then, at length, to gain time for his schemes, Lothaire allowed the Pope to go to the emperor. But Louis, despite the previous exhortation given him by Agobard, did not receive Gregory “with becoming honour”, to quote the expression of the Astronomer. However, it did not take the Pope long before he convinced the emperor of his good faith, and of his impartiality. He assured Louis that it was only to make peace that he had undertaken so long a journey. The Pope remained some days with the emperor arranging matters, and giving and receiving presents. At length he was sent back to Lothaire “to arrange a mutual peace”.

But the few days had been adroitly spent by the crafty Lothaire in buying the fidelity of the emperor’s troops. They deserted him in crowds, till he was left practically helpless, and the scheming Lothaire took heed that he had not even the moral support of the Pope'’ presence. For he refused to allow Gregory to return to the emperor, in accordance with the latter’s wishes. Clearly, in all this unfortunate affair, Gregory had very little of his own way.

Abandoned by his followers, Louis once again fell into the hands of his sons. The empress Judith was sent off into exile to Fortona (the ancient Dertona), one of the oldest cities of the North of Italy; Louis was shut up in the monastery of St. Medard at Soissons; and, to his intense grief, his young son Charles was taken from him and imprisoned in the monastery of Prum. Lothaire “seized the imperial power and allowed the Pope to return to Rome (July 833), Pippin to Aquitaine, and Louis to Bavaria”.

If Lothaire thus arrogated the supreme power to himself alone, it was because he was emboldened so to do by the action of the Pope and his own party in previously deciding that the empire had fallen from the hands of Louis, and should be taken by Lothaire. As for the Pope, he returned to Rome in the most profound discouragement.

Compiègne, 833

Knowing that the aged emperor would be more affected by the condemnation of the Church than by that of the State, Lothaire caused a diet to be held (October 833) at Compiègne. Through the agency of the bishops of his party, i.e. of those interested in the cause of the unity of the empire, under the presidency of Ebbo of Rheims, the unhappy Louis again declared himself ready to submit to public penance. The condemnation passed upon him by the synod was based mainly on his breaking the ordinatio imperii of 817. A little later he laid aside the insignia of his office, and put on the garb of a penitent.

But the millennium had not yet come for the empire of the Franks. On the contrary, there rather came a time when it might almost be said that all were for a party and none were for the State. Lothaire’s chief supporters quarreled among themselves as to who was to be the second in the empire; and the empress Judith went on steadily plotting to increase the portion to be held by her son. The real imperialists were disgusted, and it was the thought of many that Lothaire had gone too far in his humiliation and ill-treatment of his father. His brothers took up arms against him, and he had to fly hastily towards Italy (834) to avoid falling into their hands. In the Church of St. Denis, at Paris, Louis was reinvested by the bishops with the symbols of empire (March). Too fortunate in having such a father, the base Lothaire once more received pardon, and was allowed to keep the kingdom of Italy.

But he had the soul of a tyrant, and when he found himself unable to oppress his tender-hearted father, he turned his attention to harassing the possessions of the Roman Church (836). When word of this was brought to Louis he was very much annoyed, and sent (836) envoys to Lothaire to remind him that, when he gave him the kingdom of Italy, he had recommended him to have a care of the Holy Roman Church, to be its defender and not its despoiler. Lothaire was also ordered to have everything ready for his father, who intimated his intention of going to Rome as well to protect the Roman Church as for prayer. One, however, of the numerous irruptions of the Northmen, which occurred about this time, prevented the emperor himself from going to Rome, but in his stead, as the Astronomer informs us, he sent Adrebald, abbot of Flaix.

The imperial envoy found the Pope very ill, suffering from a continual bleeding at the nose. But, as Gregory himself said, the consolation he received from the emperor’s kindly words made him almost forget his illness. After bestowing all manner of favors on the abbot, the Pope sent along with him, on his return, two bishops, Peter of Centumcellae (Cività Vecchia) and George, who was also regionary of the city of Rome. When they reached Bologna the party found that they were not to be allowed to proceed further. Lothaire evidently did not wish his conduct to be too well known by the emperor. However, the letter which they were bearing from Gregory to Louis, Adrebald managed to smuggle to its destination. One of his followers, under the disguise of a beggar, contrived to evade the vigilance of Lothaire’s soldiers, and conveyed the document in safety to Louis across the Alps. Although our knowledge of this affair terminates here, the incident is noteworthy. It shows the cordial feeling of Louis for the Pope—a feeling he could not have entertained had he not been convinced that Gregory had not been unfriendly towards him—and the despotic, because weak, character of Lothaire.

Deat of Louis, 840.

Whilst the Northmen and Saracens were making fierce descents upon the empire (the Saracens plundered Marseilles in 838), the endless succession of ungrateful rebellions on the one hand and weak acts of folly and forgiveness on the other went on. Pippin of Aquitaine died in December 838. A fresh division of his empire by Louis to the benefit of Charles and Lothaire drove Louis the German to arms. Subdued and pardoned one year (839), he again appealed to force the next. Marching to subdue him, the unhappy father died (June 20, 840), at the age of sixty-four.

On his deathbed Louis had ordered the imperial regalia to be sent to Lothaire, who resolved to be emperor in fact as well as in name. He thought to crush Charles and Louis the German, separately. Again the whole empire was seething inwardly with the violent passions of war which were consuming its vital force, as fatally as, when unbridled, corresponding ones destroy the human frame.

Undeterred by previous failure, Gregory made an effort to bring about peace between the brothers, as we learn from Prudentius, bishop of Troyes, who wrote the fourth part of the annals that go by the name of St. Bertin, and was an eye-witness of many of the events about which he treated. This time the Pope did not go himself to the scene of action, but sent George, archbishop of Ravenna. But, as on a previous occasion, Lothaire had detained the Pope himself when on a similar errand of mercy, so now he would not suffer George to go and visit the kings, his brothers. Prudentius goes on to inform us that in the battle of Fontenay, of which we shall have to speak presently, George fell into the hands of the forces of Louis the German and Charles, but was sent back with honor to his own country. Such is the account, probably the correct one, of Prudentius in connection with the mission of George. The historian’s episcopal city of Troyes was not far from the field of Fontenay. He was, in the strictest sense, a contemporary (as he was already a bishop in 847) and a man of known uprightness of character. There is, however, an account of this embassy of George which is quite different to the one already given. It is furnished us, in his life of Archbishop George, by Agnellus of Ravenna, a writer of this same century, and acknowledged to be hostile to the popes. The following is the substance of Agnellus’s story. After his consecration at Rome by Gregory, and after he had taken the usual oath of obedience to him, George at once became his opponent. Hearing that Gregory was sending envoys to try to bring about peace between Lothaire and his brothers, he asked Lothaire to obtain the Pope’s permission that he himself might be attached to the embassy. Leave was granted, and he went with the apostolic curse. He took with him all the money and plate that belonged to his Church, and “all the privileges which Maurus and all the other bishops of Ravenna had obtained from the emperors” (Greek). With the money, he hoped to induce Lothaire to make him independent of the Roman Pontiff. After the overthrow of Lothaire’s army at Fontenay, George fell into the hands of the enemies’ troops. His treasure was plundered, his precious documents tossed into the mud and pierced through and through with the soldiers’lances, and he himself ill-treated. Brought before Charles and Louis, he would have been sent into perpetual exile, “as they had heard of his malignity”, had it not been for the compassionate intercession of the empress-mother Judith. At her request he was allowed to return to Ravenna, which he did, probably a sadder and wiser, certainly a poorer, man. As is very often the case with the narratives of Agnellus, much of the above has no better foundation than that worthy’s imagination.

The battle of Fontenay, 841. The treaty of Verdun, 843.

Lothaire, who had, it would seem, lost more than one opportunity of crushing his brothers singly, at length made up his mind to fight them when their forces were combined. The hostile armies, made up of troops from every part of the empire, met at Fontenay (now Fontenoy-en-Puisaye), near Auxerre, on Saturday, June 25, 841. The battle ended in the defeat of Lothaire, though both the great armies were almost cut to pieces. In verses of no little feeling has the terrible slaughter of Fontenay been described by one Angilbert, “the sole survivor of those who fought in the front rank”. Never, he says, were more killed on one field of battle. Cursed be the day that saw it. May it be blotted out from memory, and may the light of the sun never fall upon it!

This engagement is generally regarded as of the first importance in the history of the modern kingdoms of France, Germany, and Italy. Their existence as separate and distinct realms is traced to the field of Fontenay. All hope of these countries being welded into one empire was destroyed by the defeat of Lothaire. For some half century longer the line of the Carolingian emperors will continue to exist. But they will be emperors more in name than in fact. The growth of the German, French, and Italian languages, seen in embryo in the texts which have come down to us of the oaths taken at the treaty of Verdun, will render permanent the division begun in June 841. Unfortunately, at the time, the subdivision of the empire into three great parts did not end the breach. Following out the thought of an author (Florus) of this very year (841), we may write : “for an emperor, there were kings; for kings, kinglets. And for kingdoms there were soon to be but mere fragments of kingdoms”. Even Agnellus of Ravenna, a writer by no means gifted with any extraordinary intelligence, had the wit to write, in a prophecy which—to fill up his life of Gratiosus—he puts into the mouth of that prelate : “What is now the Roman empire shall be desolated, and kings shall sit on the emperor’s throne ... And to the sea coasts shall come unknown nations, who will plunder those regions and render tributary those of the Christians they do not slay .. And Christian shall rise up against Christian ... And from the East shall rise up the race of Agar (the Saracens), who shall plunder the cities by the sea; and no man shall escape them. For in every part there shall be but powerless kings, who will oppress their subjects. All things shall grow smaller. Servants will be above their masters, and every man shall trust in his own sword. And over the new generations there shall arise judges and dukes, who will overturn the earth”. This semi-scriptural language very aptly expresses the break up of the Carolingian empire into kingdoms; and of the kingdoms themselves into more or less independent dukedoms, countships, and the like, when fathers went on subdividing their kingdoms between their sons; and when, in the course of the intestine wars that arose in consequence of these partitions, the kings had to give such privileges and grants of land and money to procure help from their nobles as to make them practically small sovereigns. In this descending sub­division we have the groundwork of feudalism.

After the decisive battle of Fontenay, some time elapsed before a modus vivendi could be agreed upon between the three brothers. At length, after more fighting and much negotiation, the famous treaty of Verdun was agreed to (August 843). With the imperial title Lothaire was to have Italy, and, roughly speaking, the belt of land stretching therefrom to the North Sea, that lay between the Rhine on the east, and the Rhone, Saone, and the Meuse on the west; Charles, the Bald, was to have France, and Louis, the German, the country between the Rhine and the Oder, and all the territory drained by the Danube, the Drave, and the Save to the point where the two latter rivers merge into the Danube. After this division there was for a short while the semblance of peace in what once had been the empire of the Franks.

But their imperial power had passed away for ever. “Woe to the race of the Franks!” cries out Florus the deacon, the head of Agobard’s school of Lyons, and the heir of his elevated political views. “Once there was one empire and one people. But now this great power is trampled under foot, like a garland of lovely flowers cast from the brow it adorned. This empire, lately one, is now divided into three; and no one can be looked up to as its emperor”.

The end of iconoclasm, 842

About the time that in the West this temporary lull in the quarrels between Louis’s sons occurred, the close of the iconoclastic heresy was celebrated in the East. As Gregory had no particular share, as far as we know, in bringing about this most joyful and important event, it will here be merely touched upon. Michael II (the Stammerer) had shown himself a persecuting foe of the image-worshippers. His son Theophilus (829–January 20, 842) proved himself even a more cruel enemy of holy images. He even went to the length of branding two brothers on the forehead with some offensive verses of his own composing. Methodius, who was afterwards patriarch, was kept in prison for seven years. But the efforts of one emperor after another for one hundred and twenty years could not prevail against truth. Theophilus had not been dead a month when iconoclasm in the East was also dead. His wife Theodora was an image-worshipper. As his son Michael III (the Drunkard) was only three years old at the time of his father’s death, Theodora was named regent. With the advice of her councilors, the iconoclastic patriarch John was deposed, Methodius appointed in his stead, and a synods summoned which decreed the restoration of the images and the celebration of a “feast of orthodoxy” in commemoration of that event. The first feast was kept immediately after the holding of the synod, viz., on the first Sunday of Lent, which that year (842) fell on February 19. Nowadays, both in the Greek and Russian Church, this feast (still kept on the first Sunday of Lent) has a wider signification, for on it is now celebrated the victory over all heresies which are then anathematized. Iconoclasm was dead, but its effects, in the direction of separating the East from the West in the domain both of politics and religion, remained.

To say “iconoclasm was dead” in the East is perhaps to make too strong an assertion. For with curious inconsistency it would seem that the so-called orthodox Greeks are today both image-breakers and image-worshippers. The writer of these pages will never forget his astonishment when, in speaking to a well-informed Russian on the possibility of union between the Greek churches and the See of Rome, he interjected : “But there is the question of the icons!” It appears that the orthodox Greeks are not only passionately attached to their venerable icons, made in the same form now for many centuries, but regard the Latin Church as idolatrous. Those who worship icons of two dimensions are orthodox, but those who worship statues of three dimensions are heterodox, are idolaters.

Ignoring, then, both the principles laid down by the second council of Nicaea and by that of 842, and their previous practice, the use of statues (even of the crucifix, if with a solid and not merely a painted figure on it) apparently gradually died out among the disunited Greeks. And insensibly there came into vogue with them that traditional style in sacred art, anything but beautiful and artistic, with which all are so familiar in the Greek or Russian icon. “This”, writes the Rev. H. F. Tozer, “was stereotyped by a remarkable book, which was compiled at an unknown but early period—the Guide to Painting of Dionysius of Agrapha, which contains rules, very often of a minute description, for the treatment of (sacred) subjects ... This manual is in use at the present day, and explains the singular uniformity of design in the paintings, both ancient and modern, of the Greek Church”.

The Saracens in Sicily and  Italy

Whilst the Christians of the empire were slaughtering one another, the Pagan Northmen and the Mohammedan Saracens were taking possession of various parts of their country. In 827, brought in by a traitor, the Saracens of Africa, the subjects of the Aglabite dynasty of Kairouan, effected a landing in Sicily. Messina and Palermo were captured in the course of a few years. They had indeed made inroads into the island during the two preceding centuries, but this time they came to stay. They soon got possession of a large portion of the island, and in little more than a century the Greeks were completely driven out of it. The Greek officials, in withdrawing to the mainland, that is, to the cities of Southern Italy which still acknowledged the suzerainty of the Greeks, carried with them the name of Sicily. Hence the origin of the name the “Two Sicilies”. Even before they had established themselves in Sicily, the Moslems of Africa had made descents upon Italy. Despite the exertions we have seen made by Leo III to put his coast in a good state of defence, Centumcellae  (Cività Vecchia) was sacked by the Moors in 813, even during the lifetime of Charlemagne. The ravaging of the west coast of Italy naturally increased after the Moors obtained a firm foothold in Sicily; and of course their devastations spread further after they had been basely called in as allies (840) both by Radelchis and by Siconulf, who were fighting for the dukedom of Beneventum. But the infidels simply turned to their own advantage the furious civil dissensions which they found raging in Beneventum. They seized Bari by treachery, and kept it. Up to the year 851 they ravaged Southern Italy with more or less impunity. In danger such as this, well might the popes bestir themselves.

While the different sovereigns of the Franks and the princes of Southern Italy, utterly careless of everything except their own personal gains, were calling to their aid the foes not merely of civilization but of Christianity, the pagan Northmen and the Mahomedan Saracens, Gregory was doing what lay in his power to protect that part of Christendom over which he held sway. That he was equally solicitous for the spiritual and temporal welfare of his people is the verdict of his biographer, when about to speak of his defensive works. The Book of the Popes goes on to explain how the depradations of the “wicked race of the Agareni (Saracens), which are still going on”, caused Gregory to reflect seriously as to the most efficacious measures to be taken to secure the safety of his people.

He concluded that the best thing to be done was to guard the Tiber by rebuilding the city of Ostia which was then in ruins. Gregory accordingly betook himself to the spot (probably after 841) with a number of Romans, and built himself a villa hard by. By dint of great exertions a new city, or, perhaps, rather a new citadel or fortress, designed by the Pope to be known as Gregoriopolis, arose, as it would appear, close to the ancient Ostia. The new city was made “very strong”, and its high walls were further defended by a deep moat, crossed by drawbridges, and by a supply of military engines (called petrarix) for casting huge stones. Nowadays, however, Gregoriopolis is supposed by some to have been within the circuit of the walls of the ancient Ostia “towards the Porta Romana, instead of occupying the site of medieval Ostia, which still remains”. According to Lanciani, the account in the Liber Pontificalis “is greatly exaggerated, to judge from the remains of Gregoriopolis which the late C. L. Visconti and I laid bare in the winter of 1867-8 ... He simply selected two or three blocks of old houses on the left side of the main street, and filled up the doors, windows, and shop fronts with mud walls. He also barricaded the openings of the streets, which ran between the blocks. It is possible, though we found no evidence, that the houses surrounding this rudimentary fort on the opposite sides of the boundary streets were leveled to the ground”. However, as it does not appear that the Pope’s biographer was writing a romance, it would seem more rational, pending further excavations, to accept his statements more literally. It is far more likely that the discoveries of Lanciani relate to the hasty work accomplished by the people of Ostia themselves when, in the following pontificate, the Saracens made their famous raid up the Tiber in 846. For we are expressly told, in the Farnesian addition to the Liter Pontificalis, that the inhabitants had made an attempt to block up the city before they abandoned it.

This, whether or not the most important, was by no means the only restoration effected by Gregory. In addition to the various churches which in different parts of the city he restored, or rebuilt, Gregory also once more put into working order the great Aqua Trajana or Sabbatine aqueduct, which had been damaged, very likely in the commotions during the reign of Leo III. “Reflecting”, says his biographer, “on the privations of the Romans, inasmuch as they had no means of grinding their corn, Gregory set to work and repaired the Sabbatine aqueduct which, for many years, had remained broken”." The baths and fountains belonging to the basilica of St. Peter and the corn-mills on the Janiculum were once again filled with refreshing and copious streams of water. To this day it supplies the fountains in front of St. Peter’s and a large area of the Trastevere.

Other damage certainly done in Leo III’s reign was also repaired by this successor. The domusculta or farm colony of Galeria which Hadrian had founded on the Via Portuensis by Ponte di Galera, was restored by Gregory, who himself founded a new colony of Draco, on the left bank of the Tiber, some eleven miles from Rome on the Via Ostiensis, and hence not far from his new city. The “tenuta di dragoncello” still preserves the memory of Gregory’s colony. In connection with this colony he also built what is supposed to have been the first papal villa. This would have doubtless been built by the Pope for himself and his court whilst he was superintending the building of Gregoriopolis.

According to his biographer, it was immediately after his consecration that Gregory “began to entertain a very great zeal for the saints and their churches”. St. Peter’s, of course, profited by the Pope’s zeal. Not only did he present it with elaborately worked hangings on which were represented “the passion of SS. Peter and Paul”, but he largely rebuilt and redecorated its atrium. To a newly decorated chapel within the basilica itself, he transferred the body of St. Gregory, “through whom the Holy Ghost had enlightened the world”, and then, from the catacombs, the bodies of SS. Sebastian, Tiburtius, and Gorgonius. “With a pure heart” he both offered splendid gifts to the Church of S. Maria Trastevere, and made considerable changes therein, by raising the altar and putting a presbyteriurn or chancel in front of it, in order to prevent the clergy from being mixed with the laity during divine service. And that the worship of God might be carried on in this famous basilica with greater regularity and devotion, he founded a monastery close to it, and placed therein—to serve it—‘canonical monks’ or canons, probably of the order instituted in the preceding century by St. Chrodegang of Metz.

In order that at least after prayers or Mass he might have a little rest and quiet, he erected, by St. Peter’s, a small but suitable chamber adorned with frescos, and in the Lateran palace “where there was the greatest amount of quiet” a hall wherein, surrounded by his clergy, he could offer up his prayers of thanksgiving to God.

St. Ansgar and Sweden.

 Whilst the continent of Europe was, for the most part, settling down into anarchy, owing to the ravages of North-man, Slav, and Saracen, but still more owing to the intestine strife of selfish monarchs, the self-denial of one man was taking into the far North, the peace and order which Christianity proclaims, and which are the first fruits of its proper cultivation. We have already seen how the work of Ansgar among the Danes was interrupted in 828. But, in 829, word was brought to Louis that there was a suitable opening for some fervent missionaries in Sweden. With many valuable presents for the Swedish king, Bern, or Biorn, “of the Hill”, who, even when a heathen, used to say, “he would never lean more to treachery than to good faith”, Ansgar set out for Sweden. Success attended his efforts. On his return (831) to report to Louis the state in which the Church in Sweden then was, the emperor, to carry out Charlemagne’s ideas, founded the archbishopric of Hamburg, and caused Ansgar to be consecrated its first incumbent (832). This he did by the authority of Pope Gregory IV, and with the object of making that city the center for the missions of the North. Ansgar was then sent to Rome. Gregory not only gave our saint the pallium, and, “before the body and confession of Blessed Peter, full authority to preach the Gospel”, but named him apostolic legate “ among the nations of the Swedes, Danes, Slavs, and other northern peoples”, in conjunction with Ebbo, archbishop of Rheims, who had held that office before (c. 834). Although the city of Hamburg was burnt by the Normans in 845, and its See had to be joined (847) to that of Bremen, still the work of Ansgar went steadily on. He did not, indeed, though he longed for it no less ardently than St. Boniface had done, receive, like the apostle of Germany, the crown of martyrdom. But by the time he ceased from this mortal conflict (February 3, 865), God had begun, through the labours of this His servant, to listen to the sad cry for help against the Northmen which was ascending to Him all over the empire. It was not, however, till the very close of the following century that Christianity took anything like a firm hold of the Northmen. Still the good seed had been sown by Ansgar; and no doubt even during its gradual propagation must have exercised at least some mitigating influence on the “fury of the Northmen”.

The records of history enable us to consider Gregory, not only founding new metropolitan Sees, but having various relations with existing metropolitans and their suffragans. He sends the pallium to the archbishop of Salzburg (May 31, 837), and to Venerius, the patriarch of Grado (c. 828), to show his sympathy for that See in its struggle for its rights. In June 827 a synod assembled at Mantua, at which had assisted representatives of the Pope (Eugenius II) and the emperors (Louis and Lothaire), had allowed itself to be imposed upon by an erroneous narrative of the history of the Sees of Aquileia and Grado, presented to it by Maxentius, the patriarch of the former See, and had decided against Venerius that Maxentius and his successors were to have control over toe bishops of Istria.

Against the Mantuan decision Venerius had appealed to Rome—his last hope of obtaining justice, as it has been for many other injured men and woman both before and since the days of Gregory IV. Like a child, wrote the patriarch (838), who hopes all things from its parents, he turned to the Pope against the ceaseless attacks of his rival, because “after God, our insignificance has no refuge except in the majesty of the dignity of the Apostle, whose place, by the authority of God, you hold”.

“By the emperor’s orders”, continued Venerius, “I ought with Maxentius to have gone to Rome before this to get the affair between us settled. But Maxentius was unwilling to be judged by you, and preferred a verdict at Mantua. Thither I repaired. Not finding my opponent there, I would not wait; but, showing the emperor his letter, in which he decided that the matter should be concluded at Rome, I declared that I would only enter into the case before the vicar of Blessed Peter, whose place, with the power of binding and loosing bestowed upon him by Christ our God, you hold; and if his suffragans have decided the affair in his favor, there is fulfilled in them the saying of the Apostle (Phil. ii. 21): “All seek the things that are their own, not the things that are Jesus Christ’s”. For it is only right that he who is the head of all, should judge all. During many years our Lord has given to His Church no more honorable, upright, and just prelate than you, 0 most blessed father, whom no one can cause to swerve from the right path. You are not moved by the favor of princes nor by the persuasions of those below you. Occupying the throne of Peter, you display his firmness. Up to this, the princes of this world have not presumed to interfere in this matter, but have left it to you, though gifts have blinded the eyes of some of their subjects to justice. But now, as I understand, Maxentius openly boasts that, by a decree of the emperor, he is to have the diocese of Istria. I, however, fully trust that you will be my defender”.

Better informed than his predecessor of the truth with regard to the respective rights of the two Sees, Gregory favored Venerius. Like many another ambitious prelate, unable to establish his rights in the legitimate way, Maxentius appealed to the secular arm. Backed by Lothaire, whom this history has shown ever ready to interfere in the concerns of others, whether Pope or emperor, Maxentius compelled the bishops of Istria to yield him obedience. It was altogether to no purpose that Gregory warned him to desist. The quarrels between Aquileia and Grado were to continue to disturb both their own peace and that of Rome.

John of Naples.

Very interesting and edifying is the history of bishop John of Naples, as we find it in the pages of John, the Deacon, who in the latter half of this ninth century wrote down all he could discover relative to the lives of the bishops of the Church to which he was attached. The last bishop he wrote of was Athanasius I, who died in 872. A certain Bonus, duke of Naples, turned his mind to oppressing its Church. In vain did the saintly bishop Tiberius threaten the duke with the judgments of God. Bonus cast him into prison, and ordered the election of another bishop. This arbitrary proceeding was stoutly resisted by a learned and holy deacon of the same name as our author. At once, by a whim not unusual with tyrants, Bonus declared that the young deacon should himself be the new bishop. “Never”, cried the youth, “will I be an intruder into the See”. The enraged duke thereupon threatened to decapitate Tiberius and his household if he were not obeyed. To avoid greater evils, John consented to be elected on condition that he was to be allowed to visit Tiberius, and that the latter was not to be harmed nor removed from the palace, conditions to which the tyrant, who must have conceived an admiration for John, agreed. The day before the outraged bishop Tiberius died, so kindly had he been treated by John, that he publicly declared that his quondam deacon had taken the bishopric during his lifetime, out of compassion for him, and not from any ambition. He accordingly hoped that no condemnation, either of the Roman See or of others, would fall upon him. On the death of Tiberius, the duke Sergius, for Bonus had died meanwhile (834), moved by this declaration of the dying Tiberius, sent envoys to Rome to ask that John might be enthroned. But before Gregory would consent, he convinced himself by his legates that all that had been said in the candidate’s favor was really true. To the immense profit of the people of Naples, John was summoned to Rome and duly recognised. After all we have had to write of the ambition and cruel faithlessness displayed by men in high places during the years that Gregory was Pope, it is pleasing to read of the devotedness and gratitude which Tiberius and John of Naples displayed towards each other.

Before passing on to speak of Gregory’s dealings with certain bishops in Frankland, it will be worthwhile to quote a letter to him from a certain cleric there. This cleric is, with good reason, believed to be the abbot Gozbald, who was made bishop of Wuzburg in 842. The document is important, because it shows that the Carolingian monarchs did not always act so arbitrarily in the matter of appointing bishops as has been sometimes asserted. The certain cleric writes : “From the time when Holy Church was founded on the solidity of the firmest of rocks, it has ever been considered necessary by all who wish to live piously in Christ to seek all spiritual favors from the Apostolic See. Those who in their quest pass over it commit the greatest mistake. You know, my lord Gregory, the most excellent of all distinguished men, and prelate most beloved by me, that in seeking that to which the ardor of my mind impels me, I consider it must not be sought nor obtained from any other, or elsewhere, than from the holy Apostle Peter, and from you his successor and from your holy See ... For though some things which are not right are pleasant, still every wrong rather drags down to hell than raises to heaven. This, my most beloved lord, I say on account of the letter of your son Louis (the German) and his request in my behalf, that you may know that I desire to receive from the Apostolic See, if such be the will of Christ, the sacred gift (of episcopal consecration), not stealthily, nor from a desire of filthy lucre, like some, but with a pure and single mind”. Needless to say, much trouble and scandal would have been spared the Church if every candidate for the honors of the episcopate had been animated by the zealous, yet humble, sentiments that inflamed the heart of Gozbald.

S. Aldric of Le Mans

Of the bishops of France (Francia, Frankland), the one in whom Gregory took most interest, during the time of the troubles between Louis and his rebellious sons, was S. Aldric. His eminent virtues had caused him to be elected bishop of Le Mans (832), and had induced the Pope to send him, along with a pastoral staff, the vestment which he had himself worn during the Easter solemnities. With these presents he sent (833) him a letter in which, knowing him to be a devoted partisan of the emperor, he asked him to come to him if possible, and promised to grant him whatever favor he chose to ask of the Apostolic See. When Gregory made his memorable journey into France in 833, he is said to have written a letter to Aldric, in which, if it be not a forgery, he decided that any accusations alleged against S. Aldric must be brought before him. It is supposed that owing to his unshaken fidelity to the unfortunate emperor Louis, proceedings were instituted against Aldric with a view to getting him removed from his See, and that the saint appealed to the Pope. The fact that the above-mentioned reply of the Pope was in some of its copies undated, and hence had been printed without a date in some works, has caused certain writers to transfer all persecution of Aldric, along with this letter itself, to the year 840, after the death of his supporter, the emperor Louis. But in the copy printed by Mabillon, Gregory’s letter is dated from Cohlambur (Columbaria, Colmar), July 8, 833. It was therefore, if genuine, written before he returned to Rome, and not unlikely whilst full of indignation at the baseness exhibited on the Field of Lies, and at the way he had himself been treated by Lothaire. He accordingly took advantage of this appeal to address a strong letter to the bishops of “Gaul, Europe and Germany”. He lays down that Aldric may, if he think fit, “appeal to us” from the decision of the primates of the province, “in accordance with decrees of the fathers, and that, till that appeal has been heard, no one is to presume to pass any sentence upon him”. All are exhorted to obey the Pope’s mandate if they wish to remain in communion with the apostolic church, “which is their head”. He concludes by reminding his correspondents that, “by his present decision, he is not ordering anything new, but is only reaffirming what has been of old decreed. For no one is ignorant that not only episcopal causes, but all that relates to our holy religion, must be referred to the Apostolic See, as to the head, and must thence take their rule”. This energetic letter, and the rapid restoration of Louis the Pious to power seem to have prevented any harm from coming to Aldric at this time. But his enemies were able to get the upper hand of him for a short time after the death of Louis, till he was re­instated by Charles the Bald.

In connection with this case, Jager well remarks that it was time for the popes to intervene in the matter of the condemnation of bishops. The metropolitans were becoming mere tools in the hands of the princes. Hence, in restricting the powers of the metropolitans and summoning bishops before them, the popes prevented both the metropolitans from being seduced from the path of duty and the bishops from being oppressed.

In concluding our notice of Gregor’s relations with bishops and metropolitans, it may be observed that they are enough of themselves to show that the False Decretals, which are soon to make their appearance on the scene, added absolutely nothing to the rights of the Pope, well understood and recognized before they were ever thought of. The False Decretals have been made to appear as a sort of magic wand, which, skillfully handled by the popes and other interested individuals, were powerful enough to blot out from men’s minds the knowledge of the position and rights previously occupied by the Pope in the Church, and to at once create a new order of things. Credat Judaeus! What is of historical certainty, is that neither the popes, nor any other Christian writers who subscribed to the papal power, based it on any other ground than the words of Our Lord, Thou art Peter, etc., and the other kindred texts.

If his alleged excessive attention to works of piety had some effect in bringing difficulties on the emperor Louis, it was certainly not altogether unproductive of good. It resulted in the further cultivation of at least one of the arts. For, following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, Louis turned his attention to church music. Under cantors whom he had induced Pope Hadrian to send to him, Charlemagne had established two schools of singing, one at Soissons and the other at Metz. By these authorities the antiphonaries of France had to be regulated.

Metz had been prepared to become a center of this kind by the action of its bishop, S. Chrodegang. Probably about 754, he had adopted the Roman liturgy and its chant (Romance cantilena). Other local and individual efforts in the same direction were followed by a decree of king Pippin abolishing the Gallican liturgy, which had fallen into the same state of disorder as the Church itself in Gaul under the latter Merovingians. The action of Pippin was endorsed by Charlemagne. Not unnaturally, then, was a deacon of the Church of Metz picked out by Louis to be sent to Rome (831) to obtain information on certain matters connected with the choral and other parts of the ritual. Amalarius, for such was the deacon’s name, was most kindly received by the Pope, who put him for instruction under one Theodore, who was then archdeacon of the Roman Church. When he had obtained the information he was in quest of, he asked the Pope to send an antiphonary to the emperor Louis. But Gregory had to acknowledge that he had not a suitable one to send. All those, doubtless the ones of sufficient value and accuracy, which he had to spare, he had allowed, he said, the abbot Wala to take with him to France. This journey of the deacon of Metz, and the few recorded facts in connection with it, are worth noting, at least so far as they show us the interest that was then taken in church music in France; and the rarity, owing to the expense of their production, of works of such a kind and size as antiphonaries.

Whilst on the subject of the mutual action of Gregory and Louis in the matter of the ritual of the Church, it may be noted that we have it on the authority of Ado of Vienne that, in accordance with directions received from Gregory, Louis decreed that the feast of “All Saints”, which the Romans observed from the institution of Pope Boniface IV, should be celebrated throughout all Gaul and Germany on the 1st of November.

Gregory, the quiet and unassuming man, the peace-loving priest, died in January 844, and was buried in St. Peter’s.