CHAPTER IV

STEPHEN II

 

The Pope had not been idle during the winter of 752-753. After a long period of consideration, the time for action had arrived, and Stephen began negotiations with the Frankish king. Everything was carried on with the greatest secrecy, a peasant acting as the medium of communication between the two parties. The first letters have been lost, but from the account in the Liber Pontificalis we gather that it was purely a question of the Roman province and its escape from the Lombard yoke. Pepin appeared well-disposed, and dispatched without delay, one after the other, two confidential messengers—Oroctigang, Abbot of Jumiéges, and another of his intimates. They soon returned to France with a verbal message, requesting Pepin to send a reliable escort through the Lombard kingdom for the Pope, who was anxious to come to France. Two letters, conveyed by the Abbot of Jumiéges, were inserted in the Codex Carolinus; they are couched in very general terms, and merely call upon the Frankish leaders to aid in furthering the interests of the Apostle Peter.

Pepin, rising to the occasion, sent off two august persons—Chrodegang, Bishop of Metz, and Duke Autchaire, the Oger of legendary fame. On their arrival at Rome, they found Stephen quite ready to set out. The Lombard ambassador and the Silentiary John had returned from Constantinople, with orders for a personal interview between the Pope and Astolphus, to arrange about the restoration of Ravenna. Stephen had already obtained a permit for a journey to Pavia, so his way was clear before him. There was a public leave-taking at St. Peter’s attended by many of the neighboring citizens, as well as by the Pope’s own people. The whole caravan set out together on 14th October 753. The papal retinue included representatives of the military aristocracy, ex militiae optimatibus, a certain number of clerks of high degree, the two Frankish envoys, and the imperial legate.

Autchaire, going on in front, was the first to arrive at Pavia. Astolphus, when he heard of the Pope’s approach, sent to meet him, begging that he would refrain from any allusion to the Exarchy and the other imperial possessions which he or his predecessors had conquered. The Pope, emboldened by the presence of the Frankish envoys, declared that he would not comply with this request. The Lombard king was beset on all sides; the Pope, aided by tears and presents, addressed him on the subject. The imperial legate and the emperor himself (by means of his letters) also said their say. All in vain was Astolphus warmly exhorted to “give back the Lord’s sheep which he had carried off, and the estates, to their owners”. He remained obdurate, and would concede nothing.

In this affair Stephen II was acting in the interests of the empire and as a subject of the emperor, under whose commands he had gone to Pavia. But, however great may have been his zeal for the Exarchy, there can be no doubt that his keenest sympathies were centered in the duchy of Rome. This fact is beyond question, although his biographer abstains from mentioning it. At Pavia the Pope was playing two roles. The one, which was perfunctory and lacking in confidence, was that of the imperial representative, demanding the restitution of Ravenna. The other, whole-hearted and sanguine, was that of the Roman pontiff, whose desire was to secure the independence of his fellow-citizens with regard to the Lombards, and his own independence with regard to his fellow-citizens.

Having thus disposed of the question of Ravenna, the Pope, without more ado, begged permission to enter France. Astolphus did his best to deter him, but was overcome by the united representations of the pontiff and the Frankish ambassadors.

Stephen’s presence in France did not require the presence of the lay aristocracy, still less of a Byzantine diplomat. The latter, therefore, returned to Rome under the escort of the optimates militiae, the clerks alone remained with the Pope. They started forth on 15th November, and soon arrived at the entrance to the Aosta valley; they were then on Frankish ground, and the Pope, beginning to breathe more freely, offered up thanks to God. Their journey was nearly ended, for the king had promised to meet them at the Abbey of St. Maurice, just on the other side of the St. Bernard pass. Their hearts were filled with a great joy, for they were conscious of the fulfillment of a grand task—the salvation of Rome: in Roma salvanda petebant regno Francorum, says the crude epitaph of Dean Ambrose, one of the party. He died at St. Maurice, the toils of the journey, which, for him, was not the first, having proved too much for him.

When they arrived at the abbey they found that Pepin had not come to meet them, but had sent in his stead two ambassadors, Duke Rotard, and Fulrad, Abbot of St. Denis, who were to conduct the party to the royal palace of Ponthion. Near Langres, about a hundred miles from the palace, they encountered one of the king’s sons—Charles, the future Charlemagne. Within three miles of the royal residence, on the Feast of the Epiphany, appeared Pepin himself, together with his family. He greeted the Pope with much ceremony, getting off his horse and prostrating himself on the ground. Then, taking hold of the stirrup, he walked for some time by the side of the pontiff’s horse. This is the oldest example of that officium stratoris which later on became compulsion, and thus gave rise to severe quarrels. To the accompaniment of psalms and chanting the procession continued its way, and at last reached the palace of Ponthion. At the first official interview, which took place in the palace oratory, the Pope with tears besought the king to intervene “peacefully in order to arrange the affairs of St. Peter and the Roman Republic”. The king promised to satisfy the Pope, and in due season to procure the restoration of the Exarchy and the rights or possessions of the republic.

So far we have followed the account of the Liber Pontificalis. But the French chroniclers are also well worth consulting. From the Moissac chronicle we learn that the Pope’s entreaties were environed with a good deal of pomp and circumstance. The pontiff and his clerks, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, cast themselves on the ground, imploring the mercy of God, and calling to witness the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul. Nor could they be prevailed upon to rise until Pepin, his sons and his nobles, had extended their hands in token of co-operation and deliverance.

From the biographer we get a different impression, but it is probable that his statements are not altogether reliable. He passes lightly over these doleful formalities, calling attention to the prostrations of the king rather than to those of the Pope. In his anxiety to give prominence to Ravenna, it is to be feared that he takes a somewhat distorted view of Stephen’s claims. Probability and the quasi-official chronicler of Moissac alike incline us to believe that it was Rome, and not Ravenna, which was the leading theme of this interview,

It is, however, not to be denied that, in his conference with the Frankish king, Stephen either claimed or accepted what is called the “restitution” of Ravenna, together with the Exarchy, Pentapolis, and other territories conquered by Astolphus. This “restitution” was, in fact, brought about, or at least agreed upon, after Pepin’s first Italian campaign. But they did not restore propria propriis, for neither the duchy of Rome nor the Roman Church had the slightest claim to be regarded as holding any right of sovereignty over these provinces. The Emperor Constantine alone could claim this right, and he alone could be made the “subject” of a “restitution” in the strict sense of the term. Stephen’s biographer treats the matter in a way which reveals his anxiety to gloss over anything at all questionable in the manner of the Pope’s succession to the emperor. This attitude was also maintained among the pontifical officials.

From our own point of view, as well as from that of the Franks, the right was unquestionable, being founded upon the basis of conquest. Astolphus had conquered the imperial provinces, and they belonged to him in the same way as Liguria, Friuli, and the duchies of Spoleto and Beneventum. But Pepin had conquered Astolphus, and could impose upon him what conditions he chose, one of these conditions being the surrender of the provinces in question. They were thus the legitimate property of the Frankish king, who presented them to the Pope, or rather to St. Peter, for this patron saint was considered capable of owning and governing them by means of his Church and his successors.

All this is obvious enough. If the Roman chroniclers have given us confused accounts of the affair, it is for two reasons. To begin with, they found it hard to divest themselves of the notion that any part of Italy which did not belong to the Lombards must somehow or other be the property of the Romans. Their expression “respublica” is a most unsuitable one, for it ought to be applied only to a definite state, governed directly by the Roman emperor. As a matter of fact, it is applied to the various conditions of the Roman nationality, whatever their link with the imperial power. In the pontifical world, on the other hand, there was a strong and pardonable objection to admit any responsibility for a disloyalty to the empire, exacted by circumstances; for Rome apart from the Roman Empire; Rome ceasing to be Rome; this was indeed a political profanation. And yet there seemed no way of escape. Now, if ever, was the time to call upon the resources of literary style to deaden the compunction awakened in the national conscience by this violation of all loyal tradition.

The idea of St. Peter as sovereign of the Exarchy naturally presupposes that he was sovereign of Rome; for he who rules over the affairs of others may, not unreasonably, be expected to rule over his own as well. As far as the Carolingian princes were concerned, at least, the papal dominion over Rome seems to have been accepted as an incontrovertible fact. At any rate they never sought to interfere (in early times at least) either with his position at home or with his relations with Constantinople. They seem to have contented themselves with promising him their protection and assuring him of their good will in the most general terms, relying in return on his friendship, and leaving him to do the best he could for the papal prosperity. To assert that Pepin recognized the duchy of Rome as an independent state is rash, for we have no proof, not even an indirect one, that such was the case. Pepin always kept on good terms with the empire, and although he and his sons were honored by the Pope with the title of patricius Romanorum, he never made use of it in his documents. Neither does his chronicler, the successor of Fredegarius, ever invest him with it.

On the other hand, in the documents which emanate from Rome, whether drawn up in the name of the Pope or of others, the title is always used. There has been much discussion as to its origin and meaning. In the empire the title of “patrician” was merely an empty distinction, and had been borne by exarchs, dukes, and strategists. In France it was bestowed on the governors of Provence, e.g. Mummolus and Dynamius in the sixth century, and Abbon in the eighth. But the title in question is not that of “patrician” in general, but of “Patrician of the Romans”, for the word Romanorum is never absent. Later on, after the year 744, Charlemagne made use of it in addition to his former titles of rex Francorum and rex Langobardorum, which all served as an expression of his rights over the Franks, the Lombards, and the Romans—the Romans of the Pope, be it understood, not the others, It is evident, then, that the term patricius Romanorum was of Roman rather than of imperial origin.

It seems extremely probable, if we may venture to say so, that the title was given by Stephen to the Frankish princes, first of all as an expression of their protectorships over the new order of things in general; and secondly, to avoid reviving the Exarch at Ravenna, and to maintain the duke at Rome. In fact, after the year 754, there is no mention of the Duke of Rome; there are dukes of Rome, in the plural, the title being used in either an administrative or a military sense; but the Duce Romae no longer existed. With these two exceptions all the former offices are preserved, and it must be noted that the patriciate had been conferred on the holders of both the extinct titles. The Pope could henceforth dis­pense with Exarch and duke; and, in order to repress any inconvenient desire for reassertion on their part, he did his best to replace them by a patricius Romanorum, whose influence, though remote, was rendered important by the spell of his power and the memory of services rendered in past days.

Before speeding the Pope on his homeward way, Pepin was anxious to form some idea of the direction affairs would take, as a result of their amicable inter­view. Besides, the time of year was not suitable for a long journey, especially in the case of a venerable old man. The king, therefore, established his guest at the Abbey of St. Denis, taking advantage of the occasion to confirm his title to the crown by a second coronation ceremony, which included not only himself, but his wife and sons. Soon afterwards, the Pope, worn out by travelling, and tried by the rigors of the winter, fell so seriously ill that his life was despaired of. He recovered, nevertheless—an event which was attributed by the monks to the influence of their patron saint.

Meanwhile, the negotiations were proceeding. In vain did Pepin’s ambassadors surround the Lombard king with incessant and urgent petitions. Stephen’s biographer tells us that they had been sent propter pacis foedera et proprietatis sanctae Dei ecclesiae reipublicae restituenda jura. This curious expression, which is employed several times in these accounts, seems to contain incongruous elements. We get a much more coherent account from Fredegarius’s successor, who asserts that Pepin requested Astolphus to avoid any display of enmity to Rome (in partibus Romae) out of respect for the Apostles Peter and Paul, and for his (Pepin’s) sake, to abstain from unaccustomed impositions. History does not relate the Lombard king’s reasons for refusing, but we know that he dispatched to France an ambassador of sacred calling—no less a person than Pepin’s own brother, Carloman, formerly king of the eastern part of the Frankish empire, and at that time a monk of Monte Cassino. This reverend personage proved as unsuccessful with the Pope and the Frankish king as the latter’s envoys had been with Astolphus. Indeed, Italy saw him no more, for the Frankish authorities considered that he would more worthily fulfill his vocation in their own territory, and established him in a convent at Vienna, where he soon afterwards died.

A great national convocation was held on 1st March 754 at Braisne, and another at Easter (14th April) at Kiersy-sur-Oise. It was decided, though not unanimously, to make war upon Astolphus, and force him to yield to the Pope’s demands. One last fruitless appeal was made to him, when the Frankish army was already on the way to Italy. The united letters of Pepin and the Pope produced no effects. The Frankish army continued its way towards the Mont Genis pass. On both sides the passes were in Frankish territory, and the somewhat feebly garrisoned valley of the Susa was reinforced in order to prevent the Lombards from taking possession. Astolphus made his appearance before he was expected, but the Frankish vanguard presented such a good front that the Lombards, in alarm and disorder, fled back towards their capital. Pepin, followed at no great distance by the Pope, calmly crossed the Alps and laid siege to Pavia.

Astolphus, utterly defeated, was obliged by solemn treaty to deliver up Ravenna and the other conquered provinces; he even agreed to yield Narni, a town in the north of the duchy, which had been seized by Liutprand. Pepin was quite satisfied, and gave no heed to Stephen II, who, having soma reason to distrust the Lombard king, would have preferred a more reliable guarantee of good faith, and wanted the Frankish king to insist on the immediate restoration of the provinces in question.

Pepin provided the Pope with the escort of his brother Jerome, and other persons of consequence, as far as Rome, which he entered at the end of October 754. The clergy and the people welcomed him with open arms, and thanks were rendered to God for His great mercies.

These rejoicings were but of brief duration. Astolphus, plausible enough, had allowed the Frankish army to return home, and even began to carry out his promise of restoring Narni. But no sooner was Pepin at a safe distance than the faithless monarch absolutely refused any further concessions, and actually resumed his former plundering expeditions in the country round Rome. The Pope wrote two letters of complaint to Pepin; one was entrusted to Wilchar, Bishop of Nomentum, and the other to Abbot Fulrad, who had possibly been one of the return escort. Meanwhile Astolphus, no longer concealing his animosity, prepared to invade the duchy of Rome. On 1st January 756 there arrived at Rome itself three military divisions. The first, which came from Tuscany, established itself before the gates of St. Pancratius; the second, with the king at its head, passed over the left bank of the Tiber, and threatened the gate of Salaria; while the third, which hailed from the duchy of Beneventum, blockaded the gates of the Lateran and St. Paul’s. The surrounding country was ravaged and laid waste in a pitiless manner. The troops pressed closely around the city, but the Pope continued to smuggle out fresh ambassadors, who proceeded by sea to France, to seek help from Pepin. These were George, Bishop of Ostia, Thomaricus and Comita, two Roman nobles, and one of Pepin’s own legates, a Frankish abbot named Warneharius. This latter had taken part in the Roman defence, wearing a suit of armor over his monastic habit, and mounting guard in the ramparts. Three letters were entrusted to these messengers; the first in the name of the Pope alone; the second in the name of the Pope, the suburban bishops, the Priests, Deacons, Dukes, Registrars, Counts, Tribunes, the whole people, and the army. This was of the same import as the first, and was addressed not only to Pepin, but also to his two sons, and to all the Bishops, Abbots, Priests, Monks, Dukes, Counts, and the whole Frankish army. The third is ad­dressed to the same persons as the foregoing, but it is supposed to be written by the Apostle Peter: Ego Petrus apostolus. It contains, in this strange form, the ingenuous expression of the idea likely to prove most effective: the Prince of the Apostles, the doorkeeper of heaven, was threatened in his sanctuary; to come to his assistance was a sacred duty, and those who responded to the call would have special claims on his gratitude and patronage.

These cries of distress were heard. The Frankish army again turned towards Mont Cenis, and Rome was immediately set free. The Franks and the Lombards engaged in deadly warfare, and the vanquished Astolphus was driven to take refuge once more in Pavia. Meanwhile, John the Silentiary reappeared at Rome, in company with another worthy, the great secretary George. They were entrusted with a mission to the Frankish king, and the Pope provided them with a confidential escort as far as Marseilles. On arriving there, however, they found that Pepin was already in Italy. The Byzantine diplomats, much perturbed at this discovery, made arrangements to detain the papal delegate at Marseilles, while George hastened to Pepin, whom he found in the neighborhood of Pavia. His entreaties that Ravenna, the Exarchy, and the other contested cities should be restored to the imperial government were fruitless. Pepin protested that he had only undertaken the campaign out of love for St. Peter, and to gain the remission of his sins, and that no amount of bribery could have any effect on him. Thus dismissed, the crestfallen envoy returned to Rome, on his way to Constantinople.

Astolphus soon found himself obliged to enter into a treaty, the terms of which were rather more stringent than the first time. Comacchio was added to the list of territories to be yielded, and Pepin not only imposed a heavy war tax, but revived the tribute which the Lombard kings had in former times paid to the Franks.

To ensure the proper carrying out of this compact, the Abbot Fulrad, who had stayed behind in Italy with a military detachment, made a tour of the towns with the Lombard commissioners, everywhere demanding the delivering up of the city keys, hostages and delegates from the aristocracy. Then, together with these representatives of the conquered territory, he proceeded to Rome, and deposited in the Confession at St. Peter’s, not only the keys of the towns, but the deed by which King Pepin made them over to the Apostle, to his Vicar, and to all his successors.

The exact wording of this deed of gift is no longer preserved to us, but in the life of Stephen II we have the list of territories given up to the Holy See. They include, first of all, Comacchio and Ravenna, and then the tract of land between the Apennines and the sea, from Forli in the north as far as Jesi Sinigaglia in the south. There is no mention of Ancona and the remains of what was known later as the Marches, nor of Faenza, Imola, Bologna, and Ferrara. The papal State had still therefore much to acquire north of the Apennines. To the south of the chain, Eugubium (Gubbio) alone appears to be included. Perugia, which was a near neighbor, still belonged to the Romans.

With the exception of Narni, which had formerly been annexed by the duchy of Spoleto, and which was restored in 756, the Lombard king’s “restitutions” were what he himself had seized. Rome, though at first satisfied, had not forgotten the time when these provinces had other limits. It was hardly thirty years since the annexation of Bologna in the north and Osimo in the south, and now the Romans began to consider the possibility of recapturing Liutprand’s conquests in the same way as those of Astolphus. They had not long to wait for their opportunity. Only a few months after the departure of the Frankish army, Astolphus met his death through a hunting accident. There was great rejoicing among the Romans, who thought they saw the hand of Providence in the fact of the king’s dying only a year after his last expedition. To make matters still more cheerful, the possession of the throne was disputed by two rivals, neither of them very formidable. They were Desiderius, Duke of Tuscany, and Ratchis, brother of the former king, and at that time a monk of Monte Cassino. Desi­derius intimated his willingness to acquiesce in all the Pope’s wishes, so Stephen sent him a deputation, consisting of his own brother Paul and the Councilor Christopher, together with the Abbot Fulrad. Desi­derius promised to restore to the “republic” the cities which were lacking, civitates quae remanserant, i.e., Faenza, Imola, and Ferrara, to the west of the Exarchy, and Ancona, Osimo, and Umana to the east of Pentapolis. An agreement was signed under Fulrad’s supervision, and, with a little persuasion, Desiderius promised to give up Bologna as well.

Stephen was beside himself with delight, and poured forth his soul in a letter to Pepin written in March or April 757. Thanks to the Frankish protection and Fulrad’s vigorous action, the Pope already looked upon himself as the sovereign disposer of Italy. Desiderius, the new king, begged his good offices in recommending him to the favor of the Frankish monarch. The inhabitants of the duchy of Spoleto, who had just elected a new duke, and even those of the duchy of Beneventum, approached him with the same end in view. We may add that the Dukes of Spoleto and Beneventum were, in theory at all events, officially connected with the Lombard kingdom.

The Byzantine Empire, however, did not join its note to this chorus. It was no longer in a position, as in Zachary’s time, to benefit by the diplomatic successes of the Holy See, which, by the way, were not as complete as they had hoped. It was for the Pope to yield first. He sent one of his priests, Stephen, to Ratchis, exhorting him to go back to his monastic life. The Abbot Fulrad sallied forth at the head of his Frankish troops to support the eloquence of the legate. The Roman army was ready to follow him. Ratchis did as he was bidden, and Desiderius was proclaimed king of the Lombards.

The situation once conquered, he appeared in no hurry to divide up his kingdom. It is true that Faenza and Ferrara were restored to the Exarchy, but as far as Pentapolis was concerned, no change took place.