One characteristic of the alliance between the Carolingian princes and the Pope was, that the latter was regarded by them as a kind of venerable parent, whose right, or even obligation, it was to take an interest in their concerns, and to act as their pro­tector in case of need. As regards external political questions this was quite natural. The papacy was no longer Byzantine, but Frankish, and the bare idea of a political understanding between the Pope and the Greek empire would have been considered a profanity. Neither could the Frankish empire entertain any thought of allowing the Greeks to resume the least power at Rome over the Pope. But even in the internal affairs of the Franks the Pope had a share. He did his best to reconcile wrangling princes, and sometimes, an even more delicate matter, he interfered in their matrimonial affairs; then, too, his warranty was sometimes required for solemn acts, such as the division of the empire arranged by Charlemagne in 806, and he was often called upon to consecrate the princes, not only as emperors, but as kings.

When the unity of the Frankish empire had been destroyed, these relations became still more delicate. It was not the papacy which was to blame for this dislocation. The fatal plan of division, which Charlemagne himself had sanctioned, was too strong for the Pope’s influence to prevent its being carried out. Once there was, among several sovereigns, a Frankish emperor, resident in Italy; the Pope was obliged to live on very intimate terms with him, not only because he was the emperor, but also on account of his neighborly and protective attitude towards the Romans. Hence there was always a tendency to favor the particular political opinions of this prince. Gregory IV followed Lothaire into Alsace, and supported him against his father. When Lothaire died in 855, Benedict III interfered to prevent his sons from disputing the paternal heritage, and he even took to himself the credit of having brought about the peace which followed. A little later, in 857, he engaged in a vigorous attack against one of the foes of this peace, Hubert, the intruded Abbot of St. Maurice, who led a jovial life in this and various other holy places. Besides owning a principality between the Alps and the Juras, he was master of the passages between Italy and the domain of Lothaire II. The Emperor Louis II cast a longing eye on these districts, and succeeded (859) in making Lothaire surrender them, and even, a few years later (864), in getting rid of Hubert. On the death of Charles of Provence in 863, his kingdom was divided between his two brothers, Lothaire II and Louis II, and Pope Nicholas wrote to Charles the Bald, to Louis the German, and to their respective episcopates to pledge them not to offer any opposition to this division. When Lothaire II went to Italy (869) in order to make his peace with the Pope, Hadrian II charged these same two kings to refrain from any attack on the penitent’s states. His wish was complied with, but as Lothaire did not live long after his return home, his uncles, Charles the Bald first, and then Louis the German, seized upon his estates. The Pope strongly remonstrated, by means of letters and legates, for he rightly considered their behavior as an attack upon the imperial authority. His efforts, however, were fruitless. The two uncles took possession of the coveted lands, and Louis II was again reduced to Provence and Italy. The treaty of Mersen (870) bestowed the greater part on Louis the German, who was from that time in rather bad odor at Rome. Charles the Bald, too, was unpopular, for though he had inherited less than Louis, it was he who had instigated the plan of robbing the emperor. In 871 Carloman, one of the two sons whom he had destined for a religious life, having broken his vows and taken up arms against his father, Hadrian supported him with energy. The letters which Charles received from the Pope on this subject were written in so bitter and insulting a style that he protested. Suspecting that the pontiff was not entirely responsible for the expression of these sentiments, Charles investigated the matter. His ambassador, Bishop Actard, succeeded in obtaining a private interview with Hadrian, and returned with a letter in which the papal opinions were candidly set forth, uncontrolled by the supervision of Anastasius, who acted as the imperial representative. The old Pope expressed, in this confidential epistle, not only his opinions with regard to his family, but also his views as to the future. Hitherto the papacy had been obliged to yield to circumstances, and to accept a close alliance with the Italian monarch, not untinged with subordination. But this could not be permanent. While Charles the Bald was so abundantly supplied with male progeny that he was obliged to devote some of them to the priesthood, Louis II, on the other hand, had no son at all. His death would involve the succession, not of a prince, but of a system of government. One of the three branches of Charlemagne’s lineage was arrested in its growth, and it remained to be seen which of the two survivors would be asked to act as protector of the Holy See, and which would receive the imperial title. Charles the Bald and Louis the German, the two heads of the French and German branches respectively, seem to have been on much the same level. Louis, it was true, was the elder, as well as the son of his father’s first marriage, but these considerations were not likely to have much weight with the Romans, whether they looked upon the empire as the protector of their various interests, or as a magistrature emanating from themselves. Each of these princes was the possessor of several sons, who had all distinguished themselves by insubordinate behavior to their father. The kingdom of Charles was more civilized, though weaker, than that of Louis, and in facilitating its succession to the Italian crown it would be considerably strengthened. Affairs were thus tolerably well balanced, and it was probable that the scale would be turned by considerations of sentiment or personal convenience.

The Romans are lovers of antiquity. Germany, at that time, was brand new, hardly free indeed from barbarism and paganism, while Roman Gaul was the home of the best survivals of the ancient Latin civilization. An Italian or a Roman felt quite at his ease at Arles, Vienne, or Lyons, and even towns such as Rheims, Sens, St. Denis, and Tours were not altogether foreign to him. He was familiar with their names and traditions in his own language. But Ratisbon, Frankfort, Paderborn, Halberstadt—all these were in another world, and he was inclined to think it wiser to exhaust the resources of the ancient world before compromising himself in unknown parts.

Charles, moreover, was a prince of piety, intelligence, and learning. His abilities are now cast up against him, but to the Romans they were an additional recommendation. It is probable, too, that there has been a considerable amount of romancing as to his actual valor. In the eyes of German savants his was the unpardonable iniquity of being the first king of France, and according to the chroniclers of Fulda, to whom we generously sacrifice the witness of Prudence and Hincmar, he was too much addicted to opposing the ambitions of Louis the German. The Romans were of a different opinion. We must make allowance for the prejudiced views set forth in the papal correspondence as long as it was controlled by Anastasius and, to a certain extent, by Louis II, From more reliable sources of information it is evident that, on several occasions, Charles lent his support to the Holy See in maintaining a salutary attitude with reference to the clergy of his kingdom. There can be no doubt, either, that the Holy See had designed him for the imperial crown directly there was any question of Louis II’s succession. This was in the time of Hadrian II.

Nevertheless, as long as Louis II remained in the land of the living, these preferences could only be expressed with great caution and in purely confidential documents. Outwardly, the papal policy outside Italy remained in harmony with that of Louis II. On two occasions at least John VIII protested against the usurpations sanctioned by the treaty of Mersen.

On 12th August 875 the settlement of the succession began. Largely attended councils were held at Pavia and at Rome. Charles the Bald set great store by his friends at Pavia, but he had an important opponent in the person of the Empress Engelberga, who had long ago set her desires on Carloman, eldest son of Louis the German, and already king of Bavaria. The assembly became divided into the opposite factions, with the result that two embassies were sent from it, one to Carloman, and the other to Charles the Bald. At Rome there was no opposition; the nobility and the clergy with one voice acclaimed the king of Western France. Three bishops, Gaudry of Velletri, Formosus of Porto, and John of Arezzo, immediately set out to invite Charles to come to Rome and receive the imperial coronation.

The circumstances were momentous. The destinies of Italy were hanging in the balance between France and Germany. For the first time, too, the choice of the imperial person was being made at Rome under the auspices of the Pope. It was no longer a question, as it had been in 816, 823, and 850, of a mere consecration ceremony, nor, as in 800, of a more or less obvious external initiative, but of a genuine election. The situation was indeed changed! Since 824 the Popes had been in principle, and generally in fact, confirmed by the emperor; now the emperor was chosen by the Pope! John VIII, even in his short pontificate of ten years, twice exercised this right of choice.

Charles did not require pressing. With alacrity he crossed the St. Bernard, and appeared at Pavia before the end of September. There, probably, he received the Roman envoys. But Louis the German had lost no time in dispatching to Italy his younger son. Charles the Fat, king of Swabia. Charles the Bald had no difficulty in repulsing him, but Carloman gave him more trouble. The latter had descended the Brenner Pass at the head of an imposing army. Charles brought matters to a successful issue by diplomatic artifices, which have been the scandal of Germany for over a thousand years. Meanwhile Louis the German, with his other son, who also bore the name of Louis, turned his attention to Western France, which was defended by yet another Louis (Louis the Stammerer), son of the imperial candidate.

The latter, in a hurry, arrived at Rome on 17th December. He naturally lavished rich gifts upon St. Peter’s tomb, and behaved generously to the Romans, who, in accordance with custom, expected a display of bounty. It may be remarked, however, that although Charles showed himself thus munificent in December, four months had already elapsed since he had received his invitation, and longer still since his candidature had been accepted and warmly welcomed.

The coronation took place on Christmas Day, exactly seventy-five years after that of Charlemagne. According to the Libellus de imperatoria potestate, Charles would have introduced considerable modifications into the relations between the empire and the Holy See; in particular, he would have dispensed with the permanent missi. This, however, is open to question; for in 885, under Charles the Fat, the missus was still in office, and it is hardly likely that the function would have been abolished in 875, and re-established in 881, at Charles’s accession. There is no documentary evidence of this. In the Libellus there is also mention of territorial transfers, such as the duchies of Spoleto and Beneventum and the cities of Chiusi and Arezzo. As far as the duchies are concerned, they undoubtedly remained in the state, and Charles the Bald even appointed a Duke of Spoleto on his own authority. Moreover, the fact that the Bishop of Arezzo was one of the three envoys dispatched to Charles the Bald, presumes that Arezzo was still attached to the Roman state at the time of Louis II’s death, for the Pope was not in the habit of employing legates, other than his own subjects, for missions of this kind.

In short, it seems probable that the author of the Libellus must have known of a privilege (now lost) delivered by Charles the Bald to Pope John VIII, in which the new emperor gave his sanction to certain papal claims, similar to those of which it was a question in the lifetime of Hadrian, though, as a matter of fact, very little change took place either in the extent of the pontifical state, or in the relations between it and the protective empire.

The Pope was not in a position to devote much attention to annexing territories, or making efforts to throw off the Frankish protection. In spite of some repulses, the Saracens were becoming more and more formidable foes. The Emperor Louis II had ejected them from Bari in 871. In 870, in answer to an appeal from the inhabitants, a Greek fleet took possession of the town, and not long after (880) Tarento also gave way before one of the generals of the Emperor Basil. Before the Saracen occupation these places had been owned by the Lombard duchy of Beneventum, but as the Emperor Louis II was no longer at hand to put forward the claims of the Lombard crown, Basil himself appropriated the conquered towns. From that time the Greek empire began to establish a firm footing on the south-east coast of Italy, meanwhile extending its influence over the Dalmatian isles, and the Croatian and Servian principalities of the interior; its position at Venice was also strengthened so that the Adriatic became Byzantine property. Being prevented on this side, the Saracens fell back upon the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea, where they often profited by the disunion among the Greek and Lombard principalities. The heads of these little states got on much more amicably with the Mahometans than with the empire. Their egotistical spirit, and their unjustifiable claims had been an impediment to Louis II’s plans. The Duke of Beneventum had even gone so far as to attempt the life of his sovereign, the defender of Christianity. At Naples, which owned a Mahometan garrison, the Duke Sergius openly proclaimed himself an ally of the Saracens. It was the same at Gaeta, and Campania was constantly the scene of military raids. Owing to the attitude of Duke Sergius, Louis II effected but little during his several months’ sojourn (872-873) in Capua and the neighborhood. Finally, tired of resistance, the petty princes of Amalfi, Gaeta, Salerno, and even Capua, entered into treaty with the Saracens, who, having no further occasion for plundering in those regions, betook themselves to the north where they carried on their operations in the district round Rome.

Immediately on his election John VIII was obliged to turn his attention to this quarter. Louis II’s campaign had been succeeded by a series of naval expeditions of which mention is made in his letters. A Roman fleet, manned by Greek sailors, had been organized at the mouth of the Tiber, and the Pope sometimes placed himself in command. In a letter addressed to Louis and his wife Engelberga, he relates various exploits such as his having seized eighteen Saracen vessels, delivered six hundred Christians, and killed numerous infidels. He did not confine himself to fighting, however, but put forth all the might of his diplomacy in order to dissolve the treaties concluded between the Saracens and the Campanian principalities. Finally he completed the fortifications of Rome by building around St. Paul’s an enclosure, resembling the Leonine city. Following Leo IV’s example, he desired that it should bear his own name and be called Johannipolis. No trace of it remains at the present day, and even its exact site is not known.

His first request to the new emperor was for help in his crusade. Charles’s kingdom, invaded by Louis the German and continually threatened by the Normans, was in no position to be left without its chief, so Lambert, Duke of Spoleto, and his brother Guy, were deputed to go to the Pope’s assistance, in default of Charles himself. These dignitaries having been implicated in the plot against Louis II (871), had been deprived of their offices, but had just been reinstated by Charles. They were thus not very reliable allies, either from his point of view or the Pope’s John VIII made his entry into Campania under their escort. He gained some measure of success at Amalfi and Salerno, but the final triumph of the expedition was prevented by the pertinacity of the Duke of Naples, who was secretly supported by Adakis of Beneventum, and even by the Dukes of Spoleto. The Saracens maintained their footing in Italy, and they soon reappeared in the neighborhood of Rome.

Besides these external foes, John VIII had enemies at home. There were differences of opinion concerning the promotion of Charles the Bald. The Empress Engelberga, who took the part of Carloman, had allies in the pontifical circle, particularly among the high officials who had been imposed upon the preceding Popes, by the policy of Louis II and the influence of his wife. As long as Louis was alive the Popes had been obliged to tolerate them, but now the time had come to get rid of them, and the prospect was all the more attractive because their attitude was not favorable to the papal designs. John VIII had a free hand, and his severity would undoubtedly have been approved by the imperial missi.

The adversaries suspected what was coming to pass, for they knew how things had happened at Rome on a like occasion. Rumors were already afloat of the probabilities of their being cast into the Tiber, mutilated, or having their eyes gouged out. Such things had already occurred often enough to render their repetition a possibility, and to strike fear into their hearts. One night they succeeded in escaping by the St. Pancratius’ Gate, and their flight was not discovered until the next day. Among them were the nomenclator Gregory, who had suc­ceeded the celebrated Arsenius in the office of apocrisiarius; the two masters of the militia, George of Aventino and Sergius; the secundicerius Stephen; Constantine, Gregory’s daughter; and, finally, the Bishop of Porto, Formosus.

Most of these seem to have been rather a shady set of people, but there was no mistaking the genuine piety and austerity of Formosus. Pope Nicholas had confided to him the leadership of the Bulgarian mission, and his ministrations met with so much acceptance among the Bulgarians, that they vehemently desired him for their archbishop. Hadrian refused to gratify them, alleging that Formosus was already Bishop of Porto, and that translations were not admissible. Porto was at that time, as it is today, a more or less honorary bishopric. The king of Bulgaria was greatly annoyed at the Pope’s attitude on this question of canon law, but he finally yielded to the importunities of the Greeks, and accepted an archbishop of their choice. In this way did the Latin Church sever itself from the Bulgarian mission, whereas if Hadrian had but given way on so trifling a matter, he would have gained two important advantages : the Bulgarians would have been retained in submission, and Rome would have been freed from a person who was in the future to be the cause of much discord. Already, in 872, there had been some question of raising him to the pontificate. This alone was enough to make John VIII, who was far from long-suffering, look upon him with disfavor. Whether he was opposed to the consecration of Charles the Bald, is not certain; but if such was the case, it must be admitted that John VIII made an odd choice in selecting him as one of the ambassadors to carry the invitation to that prince. There is no proof either that Formosus ever entertained “German sentiments”. An exile from Rome, he took refuge, not in Germany, but in France. It cannot be denied that John did not like him, and that he probably had a reason for his dislike, but questions of nationality have nothing to do with this affair.

When the Pope heard of the departure of his enemies, he assembled a synod at the Pantheon (19th April), and solemnly conjured them to return to Rome. Then, as they were very far from complying, he censured them at another synod held at St. Peter’s on 30th June. Notice of this condemnation was sent to Charles the Bald and to the Synod of Ponthieu, where the prince, surrounded by papal legates, was just then being recognized as emperor.

Having got rid of his internal enemies, John soon learned that they had been given shelter by the Dukes of Spoleto and the Marquis of Tuscany. These nobles, ostensibly his protectors, were in reality his persecutors. The Saracens, too, were becoming more and more offensive, and the Pope increased his appeals to Charles the Bald.

But Charles found many obstacles in his way. He had profited by the death of Louis the German at Frankfort (28th June 876), to alter the treaty of Mersen to his own advantage, and, by annexing Louis' share of the inheritance of Lothaire II, to extend his frontier as far as the Rhine. He marched upon Cologne and seized it, but Louis (son of the German) defeated him at Andernach and forced him to retreat. The following year he made arrangements to go at last to the Pope’s help, and after having taken measures to secure order during his absence, by the capitulary of Kiersy-sur-Oise, he crossed the Alps, and was met by John VIII at Pavia. While there he received notice of the arrival of Carloman, who, while Charles was preparing to fight the Saracens, had come to dispute with him the possession of Italy. His intervention quite upset the projected crusade, besides, the vassals on whom Charles had counted the most, forsook him just at this moment, and refused to cross the Alps. Thus baffled, he relinquished his plan. He died on his way back, poisoned, it is said, by his physician (6th October 877). His only surviving son, Louis the Stammerer, succeeded him without any difficulty.

The Pope’s state of mind on returning to Rome may be imagined. He was in the hands of his adversaries. The Saracens might lay waste his states without fear of punishment; and the exiles would not fail to engage the services of their allies of Lucca and Spoleto against him. From the moment of John’s return, Lambert of Spoleto adopted an insulting attitude, which the Pope did not lessen by humiliating himself before Carloman. In the spring of 878, Adalbert of Tuscany and Lambert of Spoleto presented themselves before the Leonine city, and insisted on effecting an entry. The Pope thought it wise to have an interview with them, and with the exiles who had followed them, but their demands were so excessive that he opposed them. He was kept a prisoner for thirty days, during which they sought to assure themselves of the Roman fidelity to Carloman by instituting the taking of solemn oaths. The Romans swore, but the Pope was inflexible, and the enemy was obliged to retire without entering Rome. As soon as they were gone John’s anger burst forth. He began by placing the basilica of St. Peter under an interdict as the scene of his outrage; he wrote to all the Carolingian princes, and to Carloman himself, feigning to believe that he had had no knowledge of the affair; he even sent a protest to the Greek emperor, Basil the Macedonian, requesting him to come to his assistance. He then announced that Rome being no longer endurable, he was going to take refuge in France. In order to keep the Saracens at bay during his absence, he undertook to pay them a heavy tribute. Finally, after excommunicating the two dukes, he took his departure, going first to Genoa and then to Arles.

The Pope’s plan was as imposing as it was im­practicable. He wished to summon a convocation of the four Carolingian princes and their episcopates, and settle with them the important questions which had arisen. But it was far from probable that the sons of Louis the German would be inclined to meet him in France, or even to enter into serious negotiations with a Pope who, by the very choice of his place of refuge, seemed to imply that he would always support the claims of the younger and French branch. Moreover, poor Louis the Stammerer had quite enough to do at home without undertaking foreign expeditions. He himself may or may not have had cravings after the imperial office, but his people were not at all anxious for the honor. From the writings of Hincmar we see how little the episcopate, and the lay aristocracy, had appreciated the transformation of Charles the Bald into the successor of Augustus.

The Pope soon realized that he must not expect much sympathy from this quarter. It is true that he held a great council at Troyes (878), where he met Louis the Stammerer and received legates from Germany, but all this led to no serious result. He was, however, given an escort back to Italy in the person of Boson, the ambitious Count of Vienne, who the next year transformed himself into an independent monarch. John VIII, making the best of the situation, tried to arouse his interest by holding up before him the splendors of Italy.

Neither was there much to hope from the Germans. Carloman, having returned from his expedition of 877 in a feeble state of health, was afflicted with paralysis, and thus unable to govern. His brother Louis was far away in his provinces of Saxony and Franconia, while the youngest of the three brothers, Charles the Great, King of Swabia, was distinguished neither by ability nor by bravery. It was no easy matter to decide among so many and such candidates.

After the departure and death of Charles the Bald, Italy remained practically in the power of Carloman. He came to Pavia, received the oaths of the ecclesiastical and lay leaders, and spent several weeks in the north of Italy. He then retired to Bavaria, already attacked by the disease which was to cost him his life. The other Frankish princes did not as yet recognize his claims upon Italy. From Louis the Stammerer in Western France there was no very definite opposition; he was content to keep Provence, leaving the German princes to settle the Italian question among themselves. The next winter the following arrangement was made: the two kings in the Rhine district, Louis and Charles the Fat, were to share the old kingdom of Lothaire II, or rather such part of it as the treaty of Mersen had allotted to the German state; on the other hand they gave up Italy to Carloman.

But, on account of his ill-health, the latter was unable to take any active part in affairs. As we have seen, John VIII had been accompanied into Italy after the Council of Troyes by Boson, son-in-law to Louis II, with whose daughter Ermengarde he had absconded. This ambitious individual had been made a duke by Charles the Bald, and deputed to represent him in the government of Italy. His appearance as bodyguard and adopted son of Pope John was calculated to arouse uneasiness. Boson, however, soon returned to France. For some time affairs were in an undecided state. The Pope turned a friendly face to all parties; to Carloman, whom he treated as the actual sovereign; to Charles the Fat, who was already posing as a candidate; to Boson with whom he seemed to have some mysterious understanding; and even to Louis III, the most distant of Louis the German’s sons.

In 879 things began to fall into some semblance of order. Louis the Stammerer died in April, leaving two sons, who were both too young and weak to have any designs on Italy. In October Boson caused himself to be crowned king of Provence, which usurpation brought enough difficulties in its train to keep him for a long time a fixture on the other side of the Alps. In Germany, Carloman, realizing the approach of death, surrendered Italy to Charles the Fat. At the same time Louis, King of Eastern France, after having profited by the death of Louis the Stammerer to invade the kingdom of the West, rushed into Bavaria and established himself in the place of the unfortunate Carloman. The latter passed away on 22nd March 880, and his successor only survived him until 20th January 882. Three years later, at the end of December 884, the last of the two reigning sons of Louis the Stammerer died too, thus leaving the Carolingian dynasty with no other representative in the Western kingdom than the posthumous son of Louis the Stammerer, Charles (the Simple)—a little boy of four years old. In Germany it was represented by the last son of Louis the German, Charles the Fat. This latter received all the Carolingian heritage, and was recognized as sovereign all over the empire of Charlemagne and Louis the Pious, with the exception of Provence, where Boson continued to flourish. This monarchy lasted only three years, ending with the deposition and death of Charles the Fat.

But these changes had no direct effect upon the history of Italy, for after the year 879 Charles the Fat is the only Carolingian prince with whom the Romans and Italians had dealings.

Having come to an understanding with his brother and even with the two young kings of Western France, whom he met at Arles, Charles crossed the Alps. From the month of November 879 he was recognized as king in the north of Italy. About 6th January 880 he was solemnly proclaimed at Ravenna, in presence of the Pope and the chief bishops of his new kingdom, who took an oath of fealty to him.

The Pope was anxious to take him to Rome that he might lend his aid against the Saracens. But Charles, who was in a hurry to get back to France to help his cousins in the subjugation of Boson, as usual deputed the Duke of Spoleto to take his place. He returned to Italy, however, the following autumn, in response to the urgent entreaties of John VIII, who hurled maledictions at his former friend Boson, and protested that his relations with the Greeks implied no disloyalty to the king. This was quite true, for the Pope had merely requested them to set their fleets in motion against the Saracen navy. Charles arrived there again at the beginning of February 881, and on the 12th of the same month he and his wife Richarde received the imperial consecration.

But the Pope’s plans did not progress much, in spite of this event. Charles the Fat set off to the north of Italy, where he tarried for more than a year. In February 882 he had another interview with the Pope at Ravenna. As long as he was present the people of Spoleto were glib enough with their promises, but no sooner was his back turned than they declined to fulfill them. In May of the same year the emperor crossed the Alps to go and take possession of the dominions of his brother Louis, who had just departed this life, leaving Lorraine to be overrun by the Normans. John again found himself deserted and helpless in the midst of his enemies.

He died on the 15th December 882 under the most distressing circumstances. A conspiracy was set on foot against him, some of his own kinsmen actually having a share in it. They began by trying to poison him, but, in order to precipitate matters, beat him to death with hammers. This was the first time that a Pope had met his death by assassination.

John VIII had been the victim of circumstances which no effort of his had succeeded in mitigating. Of the three branches of the Carolingian dynasty, the first, the Italian, had come to grief under his very eyes; the French branch, on which he had then relied, had failed to support him; the German branch, to which he had in desperation turned, had availed him just as little. The Saracens did not cease to ravage the Roman state, and behind the ramparts of Naples, Gaeta, and Capua there were always found Christian allies ready to protect them against the expeditions organized by the Pope, and to assist them in enjoying their spoils. On the interior frontiers, the Duke of Spoleto and the Marquis of Tuscany were always undesirable neighbours. Even at Rome the malcontents, incited by the exiles, and perhaps also by the severity of the government, renewed the opposition against which John VIII had fought in 876. The latter was indeed the victim of defeat, but only after he had fought a brave and unwearied fight.

His successor, Marinus, was elected without disturbance. He was a man of intelligence, who had been sent three times under former Popes as a legate to Constantinople; he had even figured in this capacity among the presidents of the ecumenical council of 869, at the time of the deposition of Photius. On his last visit to Constantinople he had come across this personage again, not as a criminal this time, but as the occupant of the patriarchal throne, and not at all disposed to show favor to one of his former judges. In order to keep on the right side of the Emperor Basil, and to obtain his assistance in his perpetual crusade, John VIII had recognized Photius; but for Marinus, Photius was not merely an ecclesiastical opponent, but a personal enemy. On this point he shared the sentiments of Formosus.

Besides sharing this opinion with the most conspicuous enemy of John VIII, Marinus, it seems, had other sympathies, which diverged from those of his predecessor. His accession was the signal for a marked reaction, Formosus, the apocrisiarius Gregory, and the others who had been banished, were now recalled to Rome and absolved from their sentence of excommunication. The Bishop of Troyes had sworn, at the council of Troyes, to live henceforth a secular life and never again to lay claim to his see; John VIII had even forced him to take an additional oath, by which he bound himself never again to enter Rome. Marinus absolved them from all these vows.

Whatever may have been the sentiment which guided him in this affair—and it is quite possible that the emperor may have had some influence—there can be no doubt at least that the recall of the exiles relieved the situation of considerable embarrassment.

There had been some irregularity in the election of Marinus. When John died he was exercising the functions of archdeacon, but before that he had been for some time Bishop of Caeri (Cervetri), and though at the time no objection seems to have been made to his translation, attention was soon called to his origin by the case of Formosus. He had not been in the pontifical seat sixteen months when he was replaced by Hadrian III, whose reign proved just as brief.

Of the relations between these short-lived Popes and the empire we know but little. In June 883 Marinus had a meeting with Charles the Fat at Nonantola. Two years later Hadrian III was summoned to Germany by the emperor, who wished the support of the papal authority in arranging for his succession. The Pope set out on the journey, but death overtook him near Nonantola, where he was buried.

There is no evidence to tell whether the ancient right of confirmation was exercised in the case of either of these Popes. Both in 882 and 884 the papal seat appears to have been vacant for so short a time that the emperor could not have been appealed to. It is possible, however, that the permanent missus may have been authorized to confirm the appointment. There is no doubt that in 885 a missus existed in the person of John, Bishop of Pavia. He it was, indeed, to whom Hadrian III committed the government of the city of Rome before responding to the imperial summons to Germany.

The sudden death of Hadrian having left the papal chair again without an occupant, the Romans, assisted by the missus, chose the priest Stephen, a man of rich and noble family, who was ordained without delay (September 885). Charles the Fat, it appears, had other views on the subject, and was greatly provoked by not having been consulted in the matter. He even dispatched his chief chancellor, Liutward, Bishop of Vercelli, with intent to depose the newly-made Pope. The latter, however, managed to assuage the imperial anger, and to convince him, by the presentation of his decree of election, that everything had been in order.

Two years later the emperor himself suffered deposition at the hands of his own subjects. The event took place at the villa of Tribur in November 887, but the deposed sovereign did not long survive this humiliation. Already in a few weeks (13th January 898) kindly death carne and bore him away to a land where regrets for his past glories could no longer oppress him.