Chapter II: “the Night of the Papacy”--Charlemagne to Otto the Great (2)

But Nicholas did not live to enjoy his perfect triumph; he died in November, 867 A.D.--a pontiff who, if he advanced no absolutely unexampled pretensions to supremacy in behalf of the Roman see, yet, by the favourable juncture and auspicious circumstances which he seized to assert and maintain that authority, did more than all his predecessors to strengthen and confirm it. During all his conflicts in the West with the royal and with the episcopal power, the moral and religious sympathies of mankind could not but be on his side. If his language was occasionally more violent, even contemptuous, than became the moderation which, up to this time, had mitigated the papal decrees, he might plead lofty and righteous indignation; if he interfered with domestic relations, it was in defence of the innocent and defenceless, and in vindication of the sanctity of marriage; if he treated kings with scorn, it was because they had become contemptible for their weakness or their vices; if he interfered with episcopal or metropolitan jurisdiction, the inferior clergy, even bishops, would be pleased to have a remote, and possibly disinterested tribunal, to which they might appeal from prelates, chosen only from aristocratic connections, barbarians in occupation and in ferocity; if he was inexorable to transgressors, it was to those of the highest order, prelates who had lent themselves to injustice and iniquity, and had defied his power; if he annulled councils, those councils had already been condemned for their injustice, had deserved the reproachful appellation with which they were branded by the pope, with all who had any innate or unperverted sentiment of justice and purity. Hence the presumptuous usurpation even of divine power, so long as it was thus beneficently used, awed, confounded all, and offended few. Men took no alarm at the arrogance which befriended them against the oppressor and the tyrant.

But this vast moral advancement of the popedom was not all which the Roman see owes to Nicholas I; she owes the questionable boon of the recognition of the _False Decretals_ as the law of the church.

THE _FALSE DECRETALS_

[Sidenote: [858-869 A.D.]]

Nicholas I not only saw during his pontificate the famous _False Decretals_ take their place in the jurisprudence of Latin Christendom; if he did not promulgate, he assumed them as authentic documents; he gave them the weight of the papal sanction; and with their aid prostrated at his feet the one great transalpine prelate who could still maintain the independence of the Teutonic church, Hincmar archbishop of Rheims.

Up to this period the decretals, the letters or edicts of the bishops of Rome, according to the authorised or common collection of Dionysius, commenced with Pope Siricius, towards the close of the fourth century. To the collection of Dionysius was added that of the authentic councils, which bore the name of Isidore of Seville. On a sudden was promulgated, unannounced, without preparation, not absolutely unquestioned, but apparently overawing at once all doubt, a new code, which to the former authentic documents added fifty-nine letters and decrees of the twenty oldest popes from Clement to Melchiades (Miltiades), and the donation of Constantine; and in the third part, among the decrees of the popes and of the councils from Silvester to Gregory II, thirty-nine false decrees, and the acts of several unauthentic councils. In this vast manual of sacerdotal Christianity the popes appear from the first the parents, guardians, legislators of the faith throughout the world. The _False Decretals_ do not merely assert the supremacy of the popes--the dignity and privileges of the bishop of Rome--they comprehend the whole dogmatic system and discipline of the church, the whole hierarchy from the highest to the lowest degree, their sanctity, and immunities, their persecutions, their disputes, their right of appeal to Rome.

But for the too manifest design, the aggrandisement of the see of Rome and the aggrandisement of the whole clergy in subordination to the see of Rome; but for the monstrous ignorance of history, which betrays itself in glaring anachronisms, and in the utter confusion of the order of events and the lives of distinguished men--the former awakening keen and jealous suspicion, the latter making the detection of the spuriousness of the whole easy, clear, irrefragable--the _False Decretals_ might still have maintained their place in ecclesiastical history. They are now given up by all; not a voice is raised in their favour; the utmost that is done by those who cannot suppress all regret at their explosion, is to palliate the guilt of the forger, to call in question or to weaken the influence which they had in their own day, and throughout the later history of Christianity.

The author or authors of this most audacious and elaborate of pious frauds are unknown; the date and place of its compilation are driven into such narrow limits that they may be determined within a few years, and within a very circumscribed region. The _False Decretals_ came not from Rome; the time of their arrival at Rome, after they were known beyond the Alps, appears almost certain. In one year Nicholas I is apparently ignorant of their existence, the next he speaks of them with full knowledge. They contain words manifestly used at the Council of Paris (829 A.D.), consequently are of later date; they were known to the Levite Benedict of Metz, who composed a supplement to the collection of capitularies by Adgesil, between 840-847 A.D. The city of Metz is designated with nearly equal certainty as the place in which, if not actually composed, they were first promulgated as the canon law of Christendom.

The state of affairs in the divided and distracted empire might seem almost to call for, almost to justify, this desperate effort to strengthen the ecclesiastical power. All the lower clergy, including some of the bishops, were groaning, just at this time, under heavy oppression. By the constitution of Charlemagne, which survived under Louis the Pious, and, so long as the empire maintained its unity, asserted the independence of the transalpine hierarchy of all but the temporal sovereign, the clergy were under strict subordination to the bishop, the bishop to the metropolitan, the metropolitan only to the emperor. Conflicting popes, or popes in conflict with Italian enemies, or with their own subjects, had reduced the papacy to vassalage under the empire. Conflicting kings, on the division of the realm of Charlemagne, had not yet, but were soon about to submit the empire to the Roman supremacy. All at present was anarchy. The Germans and the French were drawing asunder into separate rival nations; the sons of Louis were waging an endless, implacable strife. Almost every year, less than every decade of years, beheld a new partition of the empire; kingdoms rose and fell, took new boundaries, acknowledged new sovereigns; no government was strong enough to maintain the law; might was the only law.

The hierarchy, if not the whole clergy, had taken the lead in the disruption of the unity of the empire; they had abased the throne of Louis; they were for a short disastrous period now the victims of that abasement. Their wealth was their danger. They had become secular princes, they had become nobles, they had become vast landed proprietors. But during the civil wars it was not the persuasive voice, but the strong arm, which had authority; the mitre must bow before the helmet, the crosier before the sword. Not only the domains, the persons of the clergy had lost their sanctity. The persecution and oppression of the church and the clergy had reached a height unknown in former times.

It might occur to the most religious that for the sake of religion; it might occur to those to whom the dignity and interest of the sacerdotal order were their religion, that some effort must be made to reinvest the clergy in their imperilled sanctity. There must be some appeal against this secular, this ecclesiastical tyranny; and whither should appeal be? It could not be to the Scriptures, to the Gospel. It must be to ancient and venerable tradition, to the unrepealed, irrepealable law of the church; to remote and awful Rome. Rome must be proclaimed in an unusual, more emphatic manner, the eternal, immemorial court of appeal. The tradition must not rest on the comparatively recent names of Leo the Great, of Innocent the Great, of Siricius, or the right of appeal depend on the decree of the Council of Sardica. It must come down from the successors of St. Peter himself in unbroken succession. The whole clergy must have a perpetual, indefeasible sanctity of the same antiquity. So may the idea of this, to us it seems, monstrous fiction have dawned upon its author; himself may have implicitly believed that he asserted no prerogative for Rome which Rome herself had not claimed, which he did not think to be her right. It is even now asserted, perhaps can hardly be disproved, that the _False Decretals_ advanced no pretensions in favour of the see of Rome which had not been heard before in some vague and indefinite, but not therefore less significant, language. The boldness of the act was in the new authority in which it arrayed these pretensions. The new code was enshrined, as it were, in a framework of deeply religious thought and language; it was introduced under the venerated name of Isidore of Seville; it was thus attached to the authentic work of Isidore, which had long enjoyed undisputed authority. Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims, as the most powerful, so, perhaps, the most learned transalpine ecclesiastic, who might at once have exposed the fiction, which he could hardly but know to be a fiction, co-operated more than anyone else to establish its authority. So long as he supposed it to advance or confirm his own power, he suppressed all intrusive doubts; he discovered too late that it was a trap (a mousetrap is his own undignified word) to catch unwary metropolitans. Hincmar was caught, beyond all hope of escape. In the appeal of Rothrad, bishop of Soissons, against Hincmar, metropolitan of Rheims, Pope Nicholas I at first alleges no word of the new decretals in favour of his right of appeal; he seemingly knows no older authority than that of Innocent, Leo, Siricius, and the Council of Sardica. The next year not merely is he fully master of the pseudo-Isidorian documents, but he taunts Hincmar with now calling in question, when it makes against him, authority which he was ready to acknowledge in confirmation of his own power. Hincmar is forced to the humiliation of submission. Rothrad, deposed by Hincmar, deposed by the Council of Senlis, is reinstated in his see.

This immediate, if somewhat cautious, adoption of the fiction, unquestionably not the forgery, by Pope Nicholas, appears less capable of charitable palliation than the original invention. Nor did the successors of Nicholas betray any greater scruple in strengthening themselves by this welcome, and therefore only unsuspicious aid. It is impossible to deny that, at least by citing without reserve or hesitation, the Roman pontiffs gave their deliberate sanction to this great historic fraud.

Nor must be overlooked, perhaps, the more important result of the acceptance of the pseudo-Isidorian statutes as the universal, immemorial, irrepealable law of Christendom. It established the great principle which Nicholas I had before announced, of the sole legislative power of the pope. Every one of these papal epistles was a canon of the church; every future bull therefore rested on the same irrefragable authority, commanded the same implicit obedience. The papacy became a legislative as well as an administrative authority. Infallibility was the next inevitable step, if infallibility was not already in the power asserted to have been bestowed by the Lord on St. Peter, by St. Peter handed down in unbroken descent, and in a plenitude which could not be restricted or limited, to his successors.

ADRIAN II

Nicholas was succeeded (November, 867) by Adrian II, a rigid and lofty churchman, who, though his policy at first appeared doubtful, resolutely maintained, but not with equal judgment and success, the principles of his predecessor. Adrian (he was now seventy-five years old) had been married before he became a priest. At the intercession of the emperor Louis, he took off the ban of excommunication from Waldrada, and restored her to the communion of the church. By this lenity he might seem to lure King Lothair to the last act of submission. The king of Lorraine arrived in Italy. The pope seemed to yield to the influence of Louis and the empress Ingelberga; at least he accepted the munificent presents of the king.

[Sidenote: [869-876 A.D.]]

From Monte Cassino, where they first met, Lothair followed the pope to Rome. There, instead of being received as a king, and as one reconciled with the see of Rome, when he entered the church all was silent and vacant; not one of the clergy appeared; he retired to a neighbouring chamber, which was not even swept for his reception. The next day was Sunday, and he hoped to hear the mass chanted before him. The pope refused him this honour. He dined, however, the next day with the pope, and an interchange of presents took place. At length Adrian consented to admit him to the communion.

Pope Adrian seized the occasion of the contest for the kingdom of Lothair to advance still more daring and unprecedented pretensions. But the world was not yet ripe for this broad and naked assertion of secular power by the pope, his claim to interfere in the disposal of kingdoms. Directly he left the strong ground of moral and religious authority, from which his predecessor Nicholas had commanded the world, he encountered insurmountable resistance. With all that remained of just and generous sympathy on their side popes might intermeddle in the domestic relations of kings; they were not permitted as yet to touch the question of royal succession or inheritance. The royal and the episcopal power had quailed before Nicholas; the fulminations of Adrian were treated with contempt or indifference: and Hincmar of Rheims in this quarrel with Adrian regained that independence and ascendency which had been obscured by his temporary submission to Nicholas.

Nicholas I and Adrian II thus, with different success, imperiously dictating to sovereigns, ruling or attempting to rule the higher clergy in foreign countries with a despotic sway, mingling in the political revolutions of Europe, awarding crowns, and adjudging kingly inheritances, might seem the immediate ancestors of Gregory VII, of Innocent III, of Boniface VIII. But the papacy had to undergo a period of gloom and degradation, even of guilt, before it emerged again to its height of power.

The pontificate of John VIII (872) is the turning-point in this gradual, but rapid and almost total change; among its causes were the extinction of the imperial branch of the Carlovingian race and the frequent transference of the empire from one line of sovereigns to another; with the growth of the formidable dukes and counts in Italy, which overshadowed the papal power and reduced the pope himself to the slave or the victim of one of the contending factions. The pope was elected, deposed, imprisoned, murdered. In the wild turbulence of the times not merely the reverence but the sanctity of his character disappeared. He sank to the common level of mortals; and the head of Christendom was as fierce and licentious as the petty princes who surrounded him, out of whose stock he sprang, and whose habits he did not break off when raised to the papal throne.

John VIII, however, still stood on the vantage ground occupied by Nicholas I and Adrian II. He was a Roman by birth. He signalised his pontificate by an act even more imposing than those of his predecessors, the nomination to the empire, which his language represented rather as a grant from the papal authority than as an hereditary dignity; it was a direct gift from heaven, conveyed at the will of the pope. Already there appear indications of a French and German interest contending for the papal influence which grows into more and more decided faction, till the Carlovingian empire is united, soon to be dissolved forever, in the person of Charles the Fat. John VIII adopted the dangerous policy of a partial adherence to France. But the historians are almost unanimous as to the price which Charles was compelled to pay for his imperial crown. He bought the pope, he bought the senators of Rome; he bought, if we might venture to take the words to the letter, St. Peter himself.

[Sidenote: [876-878 A.D.]]

The imperial reign of Charles the Bald was short and inglorious. The whole pontificate of John VIII was a long, if at times interrupted, agony of apprehension lest Rome should fall into the hands of the unbeliever. The reign of the late emperor Louis had been almost a continual warfare against the Mohammedans, who had now obtained a firm footing in southern Italy. He had successfully repelled their progress, but at the death of Louis Rome was again in danger of becoming a Mohammedan city. The pope wrote letter after letter in the most urgent and feeling language to Charles the Bald soon after he had invested him with the empire. “If all the trees in the forest,” such is the style of the pope, “were turned into tongues, they could not describe the ravages of these impious pagans; the devout people of God are destroyed by a continual slaughter; he who escapes the fire and the sword is carried as a captive into exile. Cities, castles, and villages are utterly wasted, and without an inhabitant. The bishops are wandering about in beggary, or fly to Rome as the only place of refuge.”

Yet, if possible, even more formidable than the infidels were the petty Christian princes of Italy. “The canker-worm eats what the locust has left.” In many parts of Italy had gradually arisen independent dukedoms; and none of these appear to have felt any religious respect for the pope, some not for Christianity. On the vacancy after the death of Pope Nicholas, Lambert of Spoleto had occupied and pillaged Rome, respecting neither monastery nor church, and carrying off a great number of young females of the highest rank. Adelchis, the duke of Benevento, had dared to seize in that city the sacred person of the emperor Louis. He was only permitted to leave the city after he had taken a solemn oath to Adelchis--an oath in which his wife, his daughter, and all his attendants were compelled to join--that he would neither in his own person nor by any other revenge this act of insolent rebellion. No sooner, however, had Louis reached Ravenna in safety than he sent to the pope to absolve him from his oath. Adrian II, then pope, began to assert that dangerous privilege of absolution from solemn and recorded oaths.

The bishop-duke of Spoleto did not scruple to return to the unhallowed policy of his brother. He entered into a new league with the Saracens, gave them quarters, and actually uniting his troops with theirs, defeated the forces of Benevento, Capua, and Salerno, and opened a free passage for their incursions to the gates of Rome.

The imperial crown was again vacant, and claimed by the conflicting houses of France and Germany. But Carloman, son of Ludwig of Germany, had been acknowledged as king of Italy. Probably as partisans of the German, and to compel the pope to abandon the interest of the French line, to which he adhered with unshaken fidelity, Lambert, duke of Spoleto, that antichrist, as the pope described him, with his adulterous sister, Richildis, and his accomplice, the treacherous Adalbert, count of Tuscany, at the head of an irresistible force, entered Rome, seized and confined the pope, and endeavoured to starve him into concession, and compelled the clergy and the Romans to take an oath of allegiance to Carloman, as king of Italy. For thirty days the religious services were interrupted; not a single lamp burned on the altars.

[Sidenote: [878-891 A.D.]]

No sooner had they retired than the pope caused all the sacred treasures to be conveyed from St. Peter’s to the Lateran, covered the altar of St. Peter with sackcloth, closed the doors, and refused to permit the pilgrims from distant lands to approach the shrine. He then fled to Ostia, and embarked for France.

When he reached the shores of Provence, John VIII felt himself in another world. Instead of turbulent and lawless enemies (such were the counts and dukes of Italy) whose rapacity or animosity paid no respect to sacred things, and treated the pope like an ordinary mortal, the whole kingdom of France might seem to throw itself humbly at his feet. No pope was more prodigal of excommunication than John VIII. Of his letters (above three hundred) it is remarkable how large a proportion threaten, inflict, or at least allude to this last exercise of sacerdotal power.

The indefatigable pope returned over the Alps by the Mont Cenis, to Turin and Pavia; but of all whom he had so commandingly exhorted, and so earnestly implored to march for his protection against the Saracens, and no doubt against his Italian enemies, none obeyed but Duke Boson of Provence. The Saracens, in the meantime, courted by all parties, impartially plundered all, made or broke alliances with the same facility with the Christians, while the poor monks, even of St. Benedict’s own foundation, lived in perpetual fear of spoliation. The last days of John VIII were occupied in writing more and more urgent letters for aid to Charles the Fat, in warfare, or providing means of war against his Saracen and Christian foes, or dealing excommunications on all sides; yet facing with gallant resolution the foes of his person and his power. This violent pope is said (but by one writer only) to have come to a violent end; his brains were beaten out with a mallet by some enemy, covetous of his wealth and ambitious of the papal crown.

The short pontificate of Marinus (Marinus I or Martin II) was followed by the still shorter rule of Adrian III, which lasted but fourteen months. That of Stephen V, though not of longer duration, witnessed events of far more importance to the papacy, to Italy, and to Christendom. On the death of Charles the Fat, the ill-cemented edifice of the Carlovingian Empire, the discordant materials of which had reunited, not by natural affinity but almost by the force of accident, dissolved again and forever. The legitimate race of Charlemagne expired in the person of his unworthy descendant, whose name, derived from mere physical bulk, contrasted with the mental greatness, the commanding qualities of military, administrative, and even intellectual superiority which had blended with the name of the first Charles the appellation of the Great.

POPE FORMOSUS

[Sidenote: [891-897 A.D.]]

The death of Stephen, September, 891, and the election of Formosus to the papacy, changed the aspect of affairs, and betrayed the hostilities still rankling at Rome. By the election of Formosus was violated the ordinary canonical rule against the translation of bishops from one see to another (Formosus was bishop of Porto), which was still held in some respect. There were yet stronger objections to the election of a bishop who had been excommunicated by a former pontiff, excommunicated as an accomplice in a conspiracy to murder the pope. The excommunicated Formosus had been compelled to take an oath never to resume his episcopal functions, never to return to Rome, and never to presume but to lay communion. The successor of John had granted absolution from these penalties, from this oath.

This election must have been a desperate measure of an unscrupulous faction. Nor was Formosus chosen without a fierce and violent struggle.

The suffrages of a party among the clergy and people had already fallen upon Sergius. He was actually at the altar preparing for the solemn ceremony of inauguration, when he was torn away by the stronger faction. Formosus, chosen, as his partisans declared, for his superior learning and knowledge of the Scripture, was then invested in the papal dignity.

When Pope Formosus died, May 23rd, 896, the election fell to Boniface VII. The new pontiff laboured under the imputation of having been twice deposed for his profligate and scandalous life, first from the subdiaconate, afterwards from the priesthood. Boniface died of the gout fifteen days after his elevation. The Italian party hastened to the election of Stephen VI.

Probably the German governor had withdrawn before Stephen and his faction proceeded to wreak their vengeance on the lifeless remains of Formosus. Fierce political animosity took the form of ecclesiastical solemnity. The body was disinterred, dressed in the papal habiliments, and, before a council assembled for the purpose, addressed in these words: “Wherefore wert thou, being bishop of Porto, tempted by ambition to usurp the Catholic see of Rome?” The deacon who had been assigned as counsel for the dead maintained a prudent silence. The sacred vestments were then stripped from the body, three of the fingers cut off, the body cast into the Tiber. All who had been ordained by Formosus were reordained by Stephen. Such, however, were the vicissitudes of popular feeling in Rome, that some years after a miracle was said to have asserted the innocence of Formosus. His body was found by fishermen in the Tiber, and carried back for burial in the church of St. Peter. As the coffin passed, all the images in the church reverentially bowed their heads.

The pontificate of Stephen soon came to an end. A new revolution revenged the disinterment of the insulted prelate. And now the fierceness of political rather than religious faction had utterly destroyed all reverence for the sacred person of the pope. Stephen was thrown into prison by his enemies, and strangled. The convenient charge of usurpation, always brought against the popes whom their adversaries dethroned or put to death, may have reconciled their minds to the impious deed, but it is difficult to discover in what respect the title of Pope Stephen VI was defective.

[Sidenote: [897-911 A.D.]]

Pope now succeeded pope with such rapidity as to awaken the inevitable suspicion, either that those were chosen who were likely to make a speedy vacancy, or they received but a fatal gift in the pontificate of Rome. Romanus and Theodore II survived their promotion each only a few months. The latter, by his restoration of Formosus to the rights of Christian burial, and by his reversal of the acts of Stephen VI, may be presumed to have belonged to that faction. The next election was contested with all the strength and violence of the adverse parties. John IX was successful; his competitor Sergius, according to some accounts formerly the discomfited competitor of Formosus, and his bitter and implacable enemy, fled to the powerful protection of the marquis of Tuscany. Sergius was excommunicated, with several other priests and inferior clergy, as accessory to the insults against the body of Formosus. Sergius laughed to scorn the thunders of his rival, so long as he was under the protection of the powerful house of Tuscany. With John IX, who died July, 901, closed the ninth century of Christianity; the tenth, in Italy at least the iron age, had already darkened upon Rome; the pontificate had been won by crime and vacated by murder.

This iron age, as it has been called, opened with the pontificate of Benedict IV (900-903), the successor of John IX. The only act recorded of Benedict IV was the coronation of the unfortunate Louis of Provence, the competitor of Berengar for the empire. Louis, according to imperial usage, set up his tribunal and adjudged causes at Rome. On the death of Benedict, the prudent precautions established by John IX to introduce some regularity and control over the anarchy of an election by a clergy rent into factions by a lawless nobility, and still more lawless people, during this utter helplessness and the abeyance, or the strife for the empire between rival princes, fell into utter neglect or impotency. The papacy became the prize of the most active, daring, and violent. Leo V won the prize; before two months he was ejected and thrown into prison by Christopher, one of his own presbyters and chaplains. The same year, or early in the next, Christopher was in his turn ignominiously driven from Rome.

It was under the protection of the powerful Tuscan prince Berengar that the exiled Sergius, at the head of a strong force of Tuscan soldiers, appeared in Rome, deposed Christopher, who had just deposed Leo V, and took possession of the papal throne. Sergius had been seven years an exile in Tuscany; for seven years he ruled as supreme but not undisputed pontiff. This pope has been loaded with every vice and every enormity which can blacken the character of man. Yet as to his reign there is almost total obscurity. The only certain act which has transpired is his restoration of the Lateran palace, which had fallen into ruins; an act which indicates a period of comparative peace and orderly administration, with the command of a large revenue. In these violent times Sergius probably scrupled at no violence; but if he drove a pope from the throne of St. Peter, that pope had just before deposed his patron, and with great cruelty.

THEODORA IN POWER

But during the papacy of Sergius rose into power the infamous Theodora, with her daughters Marozia and Theodora, the prostitutes who, in the strong language of historians, disposed for many years the papal tiara, and not content with disgracing by their own licentious lives the chief city of Christendom, actually placed their profligate paramours or base-born sons in the chair of St. Peter. The influence obtained by Theodora and her daughters, if it shows not the criminal connivance of Pope Sergius, or a still more disgraceful connection with which he was charged by the scandal of the times, proves at least the utter degradation of the papal power in Rome. It had not only lost all commanding authority, but could not even maintain outward decency. Theodora was born of a noble and wealthy senatorial family, on whom she has entailed an infamous immortality. The women of Rome seem at successive periods seized with a kind of Roman ambition to surpass their sex by the greatness of their virtues and of their vices. These females were to the Paulas and Eustochiums of the younger and severer age of Roman Christianity, what the Julias and Messallinas of the empire were to the Volumnias and Cornelias of the republic.

[Sidenote: [911-928 A.D.]]

It must be acknowledged that if the stern language of Tacitus and Juvenal may have darkened the vices of the queens and daughters of the cæsars, the bishop of Cremona,[s] our chief authority on the enormities of Theodora and her daughters, wants the moral dignity, while he is liable to the same suspicion as those great writers. Throughout the lives of the pontiffs themselves we have to balance between the malignant license of satire and the unmeaning phrases of adulatory panegyric. On the other hand it is difficult to decide which is more utterly unchristian--the profound hatred which could invent or accredit such stories; the utter dissoluteness which made them easily believed; or the actual truth of such charges.

Liutprand[s] relates that John, afterwards the tenth pope of that name, being employed in Rome on some ecclesiastical matters by the archbishop of Ravenna, was the paramour of Theodora, who not only allowed but compelled him to her embraces. John was first appointed to the see of Bologna; but the archbishopric of Ravenna, the second ecclesiastical dignity in Italy, falling vacant before he had been consecrated, he was advanced by the same dominant influence to that see. But Theodora bore with impatience the separation of two hundred miles from her lover. Anastasius III had succeeded Sergius (911) and occupied the papacy for rather more than two years; after him Lando for six months (913). On the death of Lando (914) by a more flagrant violation of the canonical rule than that charged against the dead body of Formosus, John was translated from the archiepiscopate of Ravenna to the see of Rome. But Theodora, if she indeed possessed this dictatorial power, and the clergy and people of Rome, if they yielded to her dictation, may have been actuated by nobler and better motives than her gratification of a lustful passion, if not by motives purely Christian. For however the archbishop of Ravenna might be no example of piety or holiness as the spiritual head of Christendom, he appears to have been highly qualified for the secular part of his office. He was a man of ability and daring, eminently wanted at this juncture to save Rome from becoming the prey of Mohammedan conquest, organising a powerful confederacy of neighbouring dukes to accomplish this purpose.

He placed himself at the head of the army, and for the first time the successor of St. Peter, the vicar of the Prince of peace, rode forth in his array to battle. And if success, as it doubtless was, might be interpreted as a manifestation of divine approval, the total discomfiture of the Saracens and the destruction of the troublesome fortress on the Garigliano seemed to sanction this new and unseemly character assumed by the pope. Even the apostles sanctioned or secured by their presence the triumph of the warlike pope.

For fourteen years (914-928), obscure as regards Rome and the pontificate, this powerful prelate occupied the see of Rome. If he gained it (a doubtful charge) by the vices and influence of the mother Theodora, he lost it, together with his life, by the no less flagrant vices and more monstrous power of the daughter Marozia.

THE INFAMOUS MAROZIA

[Sidenote: [925-931 A.D.]]

Theodora disappears; and Pope John X is found engaged in a fierce contest for the mastery of Rome with Marozia and her lover or husband, the marquis Alberic, by whom she had a son of the same name, afterwards tyrant of the city. The vigorous and martial pontiff succeeds in expelling Alberic from the city; Alberic probably met his death soon after (925). It is said that he was murdered by the Romans in revenge for some secret alliance entered into with the Hungarians, who were then wasting Italy, and had reached the very frontiers of Calabria.

The death of her husband increased rather than weakened the power of Marozia. Her personal charms, and her unscrupulous use of them, are said to have multiplied to an infinite extent her adherents. Her paramours made a strong party. The empire was vacant. There was no potentate to whom the pope could appeal. Marozia seized the castle of St. Angelo, and with this precious dowry, which commanded Rome, she sought to confirm her power by some splendid alliance. Guido, the duke of Tuscany, the son of Adalbert the marquis, did not disdain the nuptials with a profligate woman who brought Rome as her marriage portion.

John X was left to contest alone the government of Rome with Marozia and her Tuscan husband. Neither Rome nor the mistress of Rome regarded the real services rendered by John X to Christendom and to Italy. The former lover, as public scandal averred, of her mother, the saviour of Rome from the Saracens, was surprised in the Lateran palace by this daring woman. His brother Peter, as it appears, his great support in the contest for the government of Rome, and therefore the object of peculiar hatred to Guido and Marozia, was killed before his face. The pope was thrown into prison, where some months after he died (929) either of anguish and despair, or by more summary means. It was rumoured that he was smothered with a pillow. No means were too violent for Marozia to employ even against a pope.

Marozia did not venture at once to place her son on the papal throne. A Leo VI was pope for some months; a Stephen VII for two years and one month. That son may as yet have been too young even for this shameless woman to advance him to the highest ecclesiastical dignity; her husband Guido may have had some lingering respect for the sacred office, some struggling feelings of decency. But at the death of Stephen, Marozia again ruled alone in Rome; her husband Guido was dead, and her son was pope. John XI (according to the rumours of the time, of which Liutprand,[s] a follower of Hugo of Provence, may be accepted as a faithful reporter) was the offspring of Marozia by the pope Sergius; more trustworthy authorities make him the lawful son of her husband Alberic. But the obsequious clergy and people acquiesced without resistance in the commands of their patrician mistress; the son of Marozia is successor of St. Peter.

But the aspiring Marozia, not content with having been the wife of a marquis, the wife of the wealthy and powerful duke of Tuscany, perhaps the mistress of one, certainly the mother of another pope, looked still higher in her lustful ambition; she must wed a monarch. She sent to offer herself and the city of Rome to the new king of Italy, Hugo of Provence, who was not scrupulous in his amours, lawful or unlawful. Through policy or through passion he was always ready to form or to break these tender connections. The cautious Marozia would not allow his army to enter the city, but received her royal bridegroom in the castle of St. Angelo. There was celebrated this unhallowed marriage.

REBELLION OF ROME

[Sidenote: [931-953 A.D.]]

But though the Romans would brook the dominion of a Roman woman, they would not endure that of a foreigner. The coarse vices, the gluttony of the soldiers of Hugo offended the fastidious Italians. The insolence of Hugo himself provoked a rebellion. The nobles were called upon to perform menial offices, usual probably in the half feudal transalpine courts but alien to Italian manners. Alberic, the son of Marozia, was commanded to hold the water in which King Hugo washed his hands. Performing his office awkwardly or reluctantly, he spilled the water, and received a blow on the face from the king. Already may Alberic have been jealous of the promotion of his brother to the popedom, and have resented this devotion of his mother to her new foreign connections. He was a youth of daring; he organised a conspiracy among the nobles of Rome; he appealed to the old Roman pride: “Shall these Burgundians, of old the slaves of Rome, tyrannise over Romans?” At the tolling of the bell the whole people flocked to his banner, and attacked the castle of St. Angelo before Hugo could admit his own troops. Alberic remained master of the castle, of his mother, and of the pope. These two he cast into prison, defied the king of Italy, who made an ignominious retreat, and from that time remained master of Rome.

For four years Pope John XI lingered in fact a prisoner, at least without any share in the government of Rome, only permitted to perform his spiritual functions. Alberic ruled undisturbed. King Hugo attempted to bribe him to the surrender of Rome, by the offer of his daughter in marriage; the more crafty Alberic married the daughter, and retained possession of Rome. After the death of John a succession of popes, appointed, no doubt, by the sole will of Alberic, Leo VII, Stephen IX, Marinus II (or Martin III) Agapetus II, pass over the throne of the popedom, with hardly a sign of their power in Rome, no indication of their dignity, still less of their sanctity. They are still Popes beyond the Alps. Nor was the supreme pontiff alone depressed in these turbulent times. The great ecclesiastics are mingled in most of the treacherous and bloody transactions of the period. Individual energy gave the bishops of the city great power, but as they acted with as little restraint, so these prelates were treated with as little reverence as secular princes.

During the whole reign of Hugo of Provence, notwithstanding the open or treacherous assaults of that king, Alberic, whether as an armed tyrant commanding Rome from the castle of St. Angelo, or as the head of a republic and recognised by the voice of the Roman people, had maintained his authority. He had ruled for twenty-two years; he bequeathed that authority, on his death (953), to his son Octavian.

POPE JOHN XII

[Sidenote: [953-963 A.D.]]

Octavian, though only nineteen years old, aspired to unite, in his own person, the civil and spiritual supremacy. He was already in holy orders; two years after the death of his father Alberic, the pope Agapetus II died; and Octavian, by the voluntary or enforced suffrages of the clergy and the people, was elected pope. He was the first of the Roman pontiffs who changed, or rather took a second ecclesiastical name; the civil government seems to have been conducted in that of Octavian; the church was administered under that of John XII.

In the meantime had arisen in Germany a monarch more powerful than had appeared in Europe since the death of Charlemagne, Otto (Otho) the Great. Otto made some disposition for a visit to Rome to receive the imperial crown from the hands of the pope Agapetus. All Italy looked for the coming of the new Charlemagne. On his appearance resistance vanished. Berengar and Adalbert shut themselves up in their strongest fortresses. It was a triumphal procession to Pavia--to Rome. At Pavia Otto the Great was crowned king of Italy, at Rome the pope anointed him as emperor (962). Thenceforth the king of Germany claimed to be Western emperor. Otto swore to protect the church of Rome against all her enemies, to maintain her rights and privileges, to restore her lands and possessions, when he should have recovered them, and to make no change in the government of Rome without the sanction of the pope. John XII and the Roman people took the oath of allegiance to the emperor; they swore more particularly to abandon all connection with Berengar and his son. The oath was taken on the body of St. Peter.

Yet no sooner had the emperor returned to Pavia, than the perfidious John, finding that he had unwarily introduced a master instead of an obsequious ally, began to enter into correspondence with Adalbert, who, driven from every Italian city, had found refuge with the Saracens. Rumours of this treason reached the emperor. The noble German would not believe the monstrous perfidy; he sent some trustworthy officers to inquire into the truth; they returned with a fearful list of crimes, of license, and cruelty, with which the son of Alberic, who seems entirely to have sunk the character of pope in that of the young, warlike, secular prince, was charged by the unanimous voice of Rome. In July, 963, Otto marched upon the capital; the pontiff had reckoned on the cordial support of the people; they recoiled; the pope and Adalbert fled together from Rome.

TRIAL OF THE POPE

[Sidenote: [963-964 A.D.]]

The emperor summoned an ecclesiastical council; it was attended by the archbishops of Aquileia (by deputy), of Milan, of Ravenna, and Hamburg; by two German and two French metropolitans; by a great number of bishops and presbyters from Lombardy, Tuscany, and all parts of Italy. The whole militia of Rome assembled as a guard to the council round the church of St. Peter. The proceedings of the council mark the times. Inquiry was made why the pope was not present. A general cry of astonishment broke forth from the clergy and the people: “The very Iberians, Babylonians, and Indians have heard the monstrous crimes of the pope. He is not a wolf who condescends to sheep’s clothing; his cruelty, his diabolical dealings are open, avowed, disdain concealment.” The calmer justice of the emperor demanded specific charges. The cardinal presbyter rose and declared that he had seen Pope John celebrate mass without himself communicating. Another, that he had ordained a bishop in a stable; that he had taken bribes for the consecration of bishops, and had ordained a bishop of Todi who was but ten years old. “For his sacrileges, all eyes might behold them;” they alluded, probably, to the dilapidation of the churches, which were open to the weather, and so much out of repair that the worshippers could not assemble from fear lest the roofs should fall on their heads.

Darker charges followed, mingled with less heinous, in strange confusion, charges of adultery, incest, with the names of the females, one his father’s concubines, another a widow and her niece; he had made the Lateran palace a brothel; he had been guilty of hunting; charges of cruelty, the blinding of one dignified ecclesiastic, the castrating another, both had died under the operation; he had let loose fire and sword, and appeared himself constantly armed with sword, lance, helmet, and breast-plate. Both ecclesiastics and laymen accused him of drinking wine for the love of the devil; of invoking, when gambling, heathen deities, the devils Jove and Venus. He had perpetually neglected matins and vespers, and never signed himself with the sign of the cross.

The emperor could speak only German; he commanded the bishop of Cremona to address the assembly in Latin. Liutprand warned the council, he adjured them by the blessed Virgin and by St. Peter, not to bring vague accusations, nor such as could not be supported by accredited testimony, against the holy father. Bishops, deacons, clergy, and people with one voice replied, “If we do not prove these and more crimes against the pope, may St. Peter, who holds the keys of heaven, close the gates against us; may we be stricken with anathema, and may the anathema be ratified at the day of judgment!” They appealed to the whole army of Otto, whether they had not seen the pope in full armour on the other side of the Tiber; but for the river he had been taken in that attire.

Letters were sent summoning the pope to answer to these accusations; accusations some of them so obscene that they would have been thought immodest if made against stage-players. If the pope dreaded any assault from the enraged multitude, the emperor answered for the security of his person. The pope’s reply was brief, contemptuous: “John, the servant of God, to all the bishops. We hear that you design to elect a new pope; if you do, in the name of Almighty God, I excommunicate you; and forbid you to confer orders or to celebrate mass!”

Thrice was Pope John cited before the council. Messengers were sent to Tivoli; the answer was, “The pope was gone out to shoot.” Unprecedented evils demand unprecedented remedies. The emperor was urged to expel this new Judas from the seat of the apostle, and to sanction a new election. Leo, the chief secretary of the Roman see, was unanimously chosen, though a layman, in the room of the apostate John XII.

But the army of Otto, a feudal army, and bound to do service for a limited period, began to diminish; part had been injudiciously dispersed on distant enterprises; the Romans, as usual, soon grew weary of a foreign, a German yoke. The emissaries of Pope John watched the opportunity; a furious insurrection of the people broke out against the emperor and his pope. The valour of Otto, who forced the barricades of the bridge over the Tiber, subdued the rebellion (964). He took a terrible revenge. The supplications of Leo with difficulty arrested the carnage. Otto soon after left Rome, and marched towards Camerino (Camerinum) and Spoleto in pursuit of King Adalbert. The king Berengar and his wife Willa were taken in the castle of St. Leo, and sent into Germany.

[Sidenote: [964-966 A.D.]]

Hardly, however, had Otto left the city when a new rebellion, organised by the patrician females of Rome, rose on the defenceless Leo, and opened the gates of the city to John. Leo with difficulty escaped to the camp of Otto. The remorseless John re-entered the city, resumed his pontifical state, seized and mutilated the leaders of the imperial party; of one he cut off the right hand, of another the tongue, the nose, and two fingers; in this plight they appeared in the imperial camp. An obsequious synod reversed the decrees of that which had deposed John. The Roman people had now embraced the cause of the son of Alberic with more resolute zeal; for the emperor was compelled to delay till he could reassemble a force powerful enough to undertake the siege of the city. Ere this, however, his own vices had delivered Rome from her champion or her tyrant, Christendom from her worst pontiff. While he was pursuing his amours in a distant part of the city, Pope John XII was struck dead (May 14th, 964), by the hand of God, as the more religious supposed; others, by a more natural cause, the poniard of an injured husband.

But it was a Roman or Italian, perhaps a republican feeling which had latterly attached the citizens to the son of Alberic, not personal love or respect for his pontifical character. They boldly proceeded at once, without regard to the emperor, to the election of a new pope, Benedict V. Otto soon appeared before the walls; he summoned the city, and ordered every Roman who attempted to escape to be mutilated. The republic was forced to surrender. Benedict, the new pope, was brought before the emperor. The cardinal archdeacon, who had adhered to the cause of Leo, demanded by what right he had presumed to usurp the pontifical robes during the life-time of Leo, the lawful pope. “If I have sinned,” said the humbled prelate, “have mercy upon me.” The emperor is said to have wept. Benedict threw himself before the feet of Otto, drew off the sacred pallium, and delivered up his crosier to Leo. Leo broke it, and showed it to the people. Benedict was degraded to the order of deacon and sent into banishment in Germany. He died at Hamburg.

The grateful, or vassal pope, in a council, recognises the full right of the emperor Otto and his successors in the kingdom of Italy, as Adrian that of Charlemagne, to elect his own successors to the empire and to approve the pope. This right was to belong forever to the king of the Roman Empire, and to none else.

Early in the next year the emperor Otto recrossed the Alps. Leo VIII died March, 965, and a deputation from Rome followed the emperor to Germany to solicit the reinstatement of the exiled Benedict to the popedom. But Benedict was dead also. The bishop of Narni (John XIII), with the approbation or by the command of the emperor, was elected to the papacy.

[Sidenote: [966-974 A.D.]]

Scarcely had John XIII assumed the pontificate than the barons and the people began to murmur against the haughtiness of the new pontiff. They expelled him from the city with one consent. The prefect Rotfred, not without personal insult to the pope, assumed the government of Rome; for ten months John XIII was an exile from his see, at first a prisoner, afterwards in freedom. From his retreat in Campania he wrote with urgent entreaty to the emperor. Otto made the cause of John his own; for the third time he descended the Alps; the terror of his approach appalled the popular faction. In a counter insurrection in favour of the pope, Rotfred the prefect was killed, and the gates opened to the pontiff; he was received with hymns of joy and gratulation. At Christmas Otto entered Rome; and the emperor and the pope wreaked a terrible vengeance at that holy season on the rebellious city. The proud Roman titles seemed but worthy of derision to the German emperor and his vassal pope. The body of the prefect who had expelled John from the city was dug up out of his grave and torn to pieces. The consuls escaped with banishment beyond the Alps; but the twelve tribunes were hanged; the actual prefect was set upon an ass, with a wine-bag on his head, led through the streets, scourged, and thrown into prison. All Europe, hardened as it was to acts of inhumanity, shuddered at these atrocities.

The rebellion was crushed for a time; during the five remaining years of John’s pontificate the presence of Otto overawed the refractory Romans. He ruled in peace. At his death the undisturbed vacancy of the see for three months implies the humble consultation of Otto’s wishes (he had now returned to Germany) on the appointment of his successor.

The choice fell on Benedict VI, as usual of Roman birth (January 19th, 973). The factions of Rome now utterly baffle conjecture as to their motives, as to the passions, not the principles, which actuated their leaders. Twice (the second time after an interval of ten years, during which he was absent from Rome), the same man, a cardinal deacon, seizes and murders two popes; sets himself up as supreme pontiff; but though with power to commit these enormities, he cannot maintain on either occasion his ill-won tiara.

The formidable Otto the Great died the year of the accession of Benedict VI (December 25th, 967). Otto II, whose character was as yet unknown, had succeeded to the imperial throne; he had been already the colleague of his father in the empire. He had been crowned at Rome by Pope John XIII.

[Sidenote: [974-985 A.D.]]