THE BEGINNINGS OF THE TEMPORAL SOVEREIGNTY OF THE POPES

CHAPTER V

PAUL

Pope Stephen was, however, spared this disillusionment, for soon after the accession of Desiderius, on 26th April 757, he was gathered to his fathers. He was immediately succeeded by his brother, the deacon Paul, in spite of opposition from a section who desired the appointment of the Archdeacon Theophylact. These two brother Popes, under whose auspices the temporal power began to rise, were members of an aristocratic family who dwelt at the end of the Via Lata, the rich quarter of that time. Paul turned the paternal mansion into a monastery, so that they were, in all probability, the last of their race.

We must here make mention of the religious monuments which, at Rome and elsewhere, consecrate the memory of many events of this time. One of the most important of these is the Chapel of St. Petronilla. In the cemetery of the Ardeatine way at Rome, the tomb of St. Petronilla was venerated, who, according to the fabulous records of the saints Nereus and Achilles, was considered to be the daughter of St. Peter. Pepin, whose interest in this cult had been by some means aroused during Stephen’s stay in Trance, requested that the body of the saint should be removed to the Vatican, near to the tomb of her putative father. For her resting-place was chosen one of two circular mausoleums, constructed in the fifth century for the Theodosian family; the first, which had probably never been used for purposes of interment, had been dedicated to St. Andrew by Pope Symmachus (498-514), while the other became the temple of the saint beloved by the Franks. The necessary alterations were speedily completed, and on 8th October 757, the Pontiff Paul presided over the removal of the remains. Not long after, Rome became possessed of an important memento of the Carolingian family, which was solemnly deposited by the Pope in the new sanctuary. It was nothing less than the sabanum of Giséle, Pepin’s baby daughter, to whom Paul had accepted the office of god-father. Thenceforward in his correspondence with the Franks, Paul always styles himself the “compere” (or fellow-father) of King Pepin. His brother Stephen, before him, had made use of the same title, though in his case it was probably an empty one, for there is no record of any children being born to Pepin during the preceding years.

Thus, through these family ties, represented by Petronilla and Giséle, a close union was brought about between the Frankish princes and the heads of the Church—St. Peter and his successors. In this connection we must also mention St. Sylvester and St. Denis.

In the imposing legend of St. Sylvester, which dates from the fifth century, the vivid Eastern imagination had symbolized the remarkable effect produced on the world by the conversion of Constantine. One of the most prominent topographical features of this old story was Mount Soracte. This beautiful mountain, which towers over the course of the Tiber and Roman Tuscia, had, from early times, been the haunt of monastic colonies. In the eighth century the highest peak was crowned with a church dedicated to St. Sylvester, and lower down were three other convents in connection with the superior monastery. This was at one time the abode of Pepin’s brother, Carloman, who had resigned his temporal position. The monastery and all its dependencies had been presented to him by Pope Zachary. Later on, however, Paul made over the rights of the property to Pepin, who immediately assigned it to the Roman Church.

Paul proceeded to affiliate this royal gift to the monastic foundation which he had just established in his paternal mansion in the Via Lata. He named it in honor of the two saints, Stephen and Sylvester. The former was a third century Pope, who had left his mark on the legendary lore of the time, and with whose name were bound up memories of Stephen II, formerly joint owner of the estate to be consecrated. His remains were taken from the catacombs; those of St. Sylvester were brought from his basilica in the Salarian way, and those two sainted Popes were installed in the interior church of the monastery. The convents of Soracte, St. Sylvester, and others, were annexed to the monastery in the Via Lata. Furthermore, the larger of the two churches of which the monastery boasted, the external basilica, to which the public had access, was dedicated to St. Denis of Paris.

This was evidently to commemorate the Pope’s visit to the royal abbey of St. Denis, whose abbot was distinguished by a burning enthusiasm for the Holy See. Pepin, Carloman, Stephen II, Fulrad, and all the other prominent names of latter years were to be found there under the rival protection of the saints of Rome and of Paris. The Via Lata monastery might, indeed, be called a memorial of the foundation of the early Roman State.

But that St. Sylvester did not confine his patronage to memorials of this kind will be seen from the following. King Astolphus had married the daughter of one of the principal Lombard dukes Anselm. This latter, like his contemporaries, Hunald of Aquitaine, Carloman of France, and Ratchis of Italy, had devoted himself to a monastic life, and his royal son-in-law bestowed on him a large estate to the north of Modena, in the district of Nonantola, as the site for a monastery. This was in 751, shortly after the capture of Ravenna. The following years (752 and 753) when the relations between Astolphus and the Pope were already somewhat strained, the Bishop of Reggio first, and then the Archbishop of Ravenna, proceeded to consecrate the churches and oratories. The monastery had not long been established when the Lombard king undertook his expedition against Rome. The Abbot Anselm followed his king as far as the walls of the holy city, and though there is no evidence that he actually engaged in fighting as did such other well-known monks as Hunald and Warneharius, there is no doubt that he received his share of the spoils. Among the treasures that he brought away from Rome was the body of St. Sylvester. Now, as this holy relic was preserved in a church in the Salarian way, just where the Lombard army had taken up its position, its removal to Nonantola may safely be reckoned among those depredations condemned as sacrilegious by the biographer of Stephen II. The idea that it may have been a gift from the pontiff is scarcely worth entertaining. The monks, later on, tried to gloss over the misdeed by manufacturing letters of transfer, very difficult to reconcile with the foundation of St. Sylvester in the Via Lata.

This is no place in which to investigate the authenticity of the relics claimed by the two convents. It is of no great moment whether the Lombards or the Romans were mistaken as to the tomb, or whether an unequal division was the result of a theft on the one hand, or of a pious appropriation on the other. The point to be accentuated is that the Abbey of Nonantola and its local worship of St. Sylvester, perpetuated in the Lombard district, and in an essentially Lombard style, the memory of the Roman crisis of 756, and the beginnings of the tem­poral power.

No sooner was Paul elected than, without waiting to be ordained, he announced to Pepin the facts of his brother’s death and of his own succession, assuring him at the same time of his readiness to carry out faithfully the engagements made by his predecessor. A Frankish envoy, Immo by name, had just arrived at Rome, and he was detained by the Pope, in order that he might attend the ordination ceremony. A few weeks later letters arrived from France; one of them was addressed to the aristocracy and the lay population, and urgently enjoined loyalty to the new Pope.

We will come back later to a consideration of home affairs. Outside, serious transactions were taking place. The Pope continued to clamor for the towns that Desiderius had promised, but the Lombard king was by no means eager to respond. His reluctance was undoubtedly intensified by Paul’s curious interference in the affairs of Spoleto and Beneventum. In demanding the Frankish protection for these two duchies, the Holy See was encroaching upon the political domain of the Lombard kingdom. It was going back twenty years to the schemes of Gregory III, afterwards abandoned by Zachary, under the pressure of circumstances.

Obviously it was not for Pepin to follow the Pope’s example, and involve himself in these perilous politi­cal affairs. He must have thought it odd that Paul should have enlisted himself on the side of the Dukes of Aquitaine and Bavaria, who were continually in rebellion against the central power of the Frankish kingdom. He, therefore, refused the protectorship, and gave no support to the Romans in their increased claims upon the Exarchy and Pentapolis. Desiderius imagined that he had a free hand in the matter, and began operations by starting forth to quell the rebellious dukes. In order to reach them he had to pass through Pentapolis, most probably by way of Gubbio, and the ravages committed by his soldiers on the way created great indignation among the Romans. The Duke of Spoleto, Alboni, was taken prisoner with several of his “satraps”, but the Duke of Beneventum managed to take refuge at Otranto. Desiderius installed another in his place, and then proceeded to Rome. The Pope met him outside the walls of St. Peter’s, and pleaded persistently for the restoration of the promised towns. His eloquence, however, had no effect upon the king, who undertook to surrender Imola alone, and that only on condition that Pepin should deliver up the Lombard hostages who had been taken to France. The Pope, seemingly resigned, wrote to the Frankish king to this effect, but at the same time he contrived that Pepin should receive another letter from him, cancelling the contents of the first, maintaining all the Roman claims, and urging him to insist on a com­plete fulfillment of all the promises made by the Lombard king.

Pepin dispatched to Italy his brother Remedius, Bishop of Rouen, and the Duke Autchaire, and they succeeded in arranging matters on the basis of uti possidetis. Desiderius was to yield no other town, not even Imola; the Pope was adjudged possessor of the remainder; the damage done by either party was to be repaired; and many trifling questions concerning boundaries, customs, and patrimonies were affably settled. Pepin did his utmost to persuade the Pope to submit, and even to cultivate the friendship of the Lombard king. Paul, therefore, resigned himself, though not without grief and recriminations, to the dispelling of his dreams. It was, nevertheless, extremely evident that the Frankish king could neither undertake to place himself at the disposal of the Romans and their plans, nor to cross the Alps every time that there was a frontier skirmish between the Romans and the Lombards.

Moreover, it was to the interest of the Lombards to cultivate peace; henceforth they had a common enemy, the Byzantine Empire, which was quite ready to take advantage of their disagreements. Constantine V, disappointed in his hopes of the Frankish intervention and the diplomacy of the Pope, continued his designs on Ravenna, and sought to regain a footing in central Italy. His efforts were mainly directed against the Pope, who at that time held Ravenna, and was responsible for the emancipation of the Romans. Instead, however, of entering into direct communication with him, he began by making friendly overtures to Desiderius. On the other hand, he considered that the ecclesiastical disunion produced by the images dispute was pretext enough for approaching the Frankish king. The iconoclastic reform did not, of course, affect the dwellers on the other side of the Alps to anything like the same extent as those of Byzantine Rome. Not only had they taken no part in the papal demonstrations, on behalf of the use of images and symbols in worship for thirty years, but the worship itself, in spite of the great decline of Frankish Christianity, did not appeal to them at all seriously. An attempt might be made to engage them in a struggle against what the em­pire proscribed as a religious perversion. Piety, thus understood, would provide a substitute for ground lost in the political arena. One proof that this ground was well selected is to be found in the fact that the Frankish Church, under Charlemagne and Louis the Pious, far from sharing the Pope’s attitude towards the image question, rather supported the views of the iconoclast emperors.

At Rome they were quite cognizant of this danger. Indeed, Pope Paul spent the whole of his pontificate in listening to rumors from the south, and quaking before the dread of a political alliance between the Greeks and Lombards, or a religious compact between the emperor and the Frankish court.

But Pepin, who was a man of ability and common sense, did not let himself be beguiled by the half-theological diplomats who were sent to him from Constantinople. Nor did he allow himself to be led away, like the Romans, into constant plans for the re-division of the Italian territory. He saw at once that the important point was to bring about a reconciliation between his two allies, the Pope and the Lombard king, and with tact and energy he set about producing this result without wounding the feelings of either party. In spite of the Pope’s demands for a Frankish missus to be in permanent residence at Rome, Pepin confined himself to supplying temporary legations, deputies entrusted to arrange transient or special difficulties. If there was any need for the Frankish king to be represented in Italy as the Pope’s protector, it was on Desiderius himself that the office devolved. The latter was induced to give up the intrigues formed with the Greeks at the beginning of his reign, and the Pope was persuaded to come to an understanding with him, and, if necessary, to claim his support.

Towards the religious question, Pepin’s attitude was just as sane and simple. He listened to the Popes continual exhortations against the imperial unorthodoxy, and always acted in accord with him, both at Constantinople (by means of their respective ambassadors), and in France in the event of any dis­pute. The Byzantines finally recognized their mistake; in Italy, Pepin’s friendly relations with the Pope and the Lombards were an effectual hindrance to their political schemes, while, as far as the Franks were concerned, their loyalty to the great Head of religious affairs of the west was deep enough to discourage any further attempts on the part of the orientals to arouse ill-feeling against their powerful protector.

This is the impression that we get from the letters written by Paul to King Pepin, and preserved to us in the Codex Carolinus. Unfortunately we have no means of correcting or supplementing this correspondence, and, as the dates are lacking, it is often difficult to arrange the letters in their chronological order. Details on the subject are not easily obtained, for, from the Liber Pontificalis we learn nothing, and from the Frankish chronicles, but little, of these events. But there is conclusive evidence that the two Byzantine diplomats of 756, John the Silentiary and George, the chief secretary, continued their mission in the following year. The former installed himself at the Frankish court, and the latter in Italy, where he combined with the Lombard king in plotting against Ravenna. Later on, in 763, Pepin and Paul united in sending two ambassadors to Constantinople, where they stayed the winter. The pontiff’s chief adviser at that time was Christopher, primicerius of the notaries. Among the people of Constantinople he bore the reputation of taking an undue part in the writing or editing of the papal letters, and he was popularly accused of trying to corrupt the Frankish and Byzantine envoys. The imperial government was anxious to do away with the papal legates, and to transact business directly with the Frankish court, but their endeavors in this line were apparently unsuccessful. We hear of a conference held at Gentilly early in 767, where, according to the annalist of Lorsch, there was a discussion inter Romanos et Graecos de sancta Trinitate et de sanctorum imaginibus. From the presence of the Romans on this occasion, we conclude that Pepin continued to persevere in his principle of referring all religious discussions to the Pope.

Very soon afterwards, on 28th June 767, Pope Paul breathed his last. Affairs at Rome itself were quiet, though with a superficial quietness which was speedily and seriously to be disturbed. Let us now glance at the ecclesiastical and military organization of the little Roman State and at the beginnings of the contest which might have been observed or foretold even at that time.