CRISTO RAUL.ORG

READING HALL

"THIRD MILLENNIUM LIBRARY"

BLESSED BE THE PEACEFUL BECAUSE THEY WILL BE CALLED SONS OF GOD

EARLY CHRONICLERS OF ITALY.

CHAPTER II.

SAD CONDITION OF ITALY IN THE EARLY PERIOD OF THE LOMBARD INVASION — GREGORY THE GREAT — COLLECTION OF HIS LETTERS — THEIR GREAT IMPORTANCE FOR THE HISTORY OF ITALY — THE BOOK OF DIALOGUES — THE EDICT OF ROTHARI — THE “ORIGO LANGOBARDORUM” AND MINOR WRITINGS UP TO PAULUS DIACONUS — HIS LIFE — HIS WORKS AND ESPECIALLY HIS HISTORY OF THE LOMBARDS.

ITALY was not freed by the fall of the Gothic kingdom. Belisarius and Narses had been able to break the power of the Goths, but could not create a sufficient barrier against fresh attacks. The Empire of the West was indeed falling to pieces, and the tie which bound it to the Eastern Empire only served to increase its difficulties. The Byzantine court, enfeebled by corruption, could not stand alone, and wasted the strength of Italy by a dominion which was neither national nor altogether foreign. Hence the ruin of Italy. As we have already said, had it been possible to carry out the idea of Cassiodorus, and fuse the Goths in the Latin race, perhaps a real Italian kingdom might have resulted, capable of struggling, on the one hand against the new barbaric invasions, and on the other against the sordid pretensions of the Byzantines. With something like an Italian nationality secured, as far as the age would allow, perhaps Roman civilization would not have died out for so long a series of centuries, and the times of the renaissance might have been matured earlier and with less effort. But human vicissitudes are subject to historical laws, as deep and inscrutable as all other decrees of Providence; and perhaps, on the contrary, humanity along this painful path has made quicker progress than it could otherwise have done. Yet who can help feeling some regret when he looks back now over the long array of evils which, after so many misfortunes, were still reserved for the Alma mater of modern nations?

The first invasion and establishment of the Lombards in Italy marks the most ill-starred period of Italian history. Arriving from Pannonia under the leadership of a fierce and valiant king, Albuin, the Lombards descended into Italy but few years after the last defeat of the Goths. They met with little resistance. The Exarch Longinus, an insignificant man, had succeeded Narses, and the cities, left to themselves, made what defence they could. In a few years the dominion of the Lombards, begun in Friuli, extended over a great part of Italy. They lived rudely, and treated with ferocity the vanquished, from whom they differed in religion, being in part Arians, in part still idolaters. Rapine and slaughter spread misery and desolation around, and justified the lamentations of Pope Pelagius II when writing to the Bishop Aunacarius of Auxerre: “And how shall we not mourn when we see so much innocent blood shed before our eyes, the altars desecrated, and the Catholic Faith insulted by these idolaters?” The juridical condition of the Italians under their new conquerors was a grievous one during the whole time of their dominion, which lasted two centuries until it was struck down by the power of Charlemagne. The ancient civilization already tottering received a last blow, and it was with difficulty that it still retained some lingering spark of life, and the tradition of the great Roman name.

And it was indeed in Rome that the seed of a future revival was sown. In those hours of trial Rome was undergoing a great transformation, and the ancient empress of the world, fallen from her early grandeur and with the barbarians at her gates, was preparing for a new and not less vast domination, to which we only refer here on account of its immediate importance to Italian history, and without touching on the great ecclesiastical problems which grew out of it, or on the good and the evil which resulted from it. While Italy was being wasted by Byzantine bad government at Ravenna and by Lombard devastations, a man of genius, Gregory the Great, rose from the chair of Peter to defend Italy, and, as it would seem unconsciously-inspired by Roman traditions, sowed the seeds of the universal supremacy of the Church. Certainly no one could have been more adapted than he was to carry out this great transformation, which was destined to be so lasting and so fruitful in its consequences. “In the case of few other men,” writes an historian recently, “ have both nature and fortune shown more gracious concord; but few also have shown themselves more anxious to spend aright their gifts, to turn them to best account, and to regard them only as the patrimony of others. Descendant of an illustrious patrician stock (believed to have been the Anician family : his father was the Senator Gordianus, and among his ancestors he counted a pope, Felix IV), he had inherited, together with the considerable rent-roll of his forefathers, their robust nature and their good judgment. The dignity of the Roman and the ardour of the Christian were combined in Gregory, as in no other pontiff either before or after him.”

Such a man could not but find himself of necessity in the midst of all the events of his time, and reflect in all his writings the age in which he lived; hence his works, written with quite a different aim, have in later times acquired the greatest importance for history, in consequence of the almost complete absence of contemporary historical records. Born about the year 540, while Belisarius was contesting the dominion of Italy with the Goths, he studied at Rome grammar, rhetoric, philosophy, and law. Entering upon public life, he was raised while still very young to the dignity of praetor or prefect of the city, but notwithstanding these political cares he, a man of thought as well as action, could not be prevailed upon to alter his habits of piety and contemplation. With that untiring activity which never failed him, and under the inspiration of St. Ambrose and St. Augustine, whom he calls clear and deep well­springs of learning, he devoted himself to the study of theology, while he made use of his great riches to found six monasteries in Sicily, and a seventh in Rome on the Celian, ad Clivum Scauri, where there is still a church called by his name. He retired into this monastery somewhat later, in order to live in austere seclusion far away from public affairs, but for a short time only, as he was not allowed for long to escape from them. His illustrious lineage, the power of his intellect, the celebrity he had already acquired, were such as to make it impossible for him to pass unnoticed. Pope Benedict I ordained him deacon in order to entrust to him one of the seven regiones of Rome; and his successor, Pelagius II, sent him as Apocrisarius to treat about the affairs of the Church at Constantinople. There, during the time of his embassy, he gained the favour of the emperor; and so greatly did his reputation increase that, after his return to Rome, on the death of Pelagius in the year 590, the Romans unanimously declared him pope. His resistance, and even flight from Rome, could not save him from the burthen of that great dignity. The wish of the people and clergy of Rome was ratified at Constantinople by the emperor, and he had to resign himself to accept an office which inspired him with the greater awe, inasmuch as his heart and intellect alike led him to take a more comprehensive view of the great responsibilities it imposed. Those calamitous times required fresh efforts daily from his lofty ministry, and suggested fresh thoughts; but his mind, with its yearnings towards heaven, returned constantly to the recollection of his lost peace, and regretted with infinite tenderness the solitude of his monastery : “The grief which I constantly suffer is old indeed now from habit, and yet it is ever fresh. My chafed soul remembers what she once was in the monastery, how she used to rise above fleeting things, and only thinking of heavenly matters, passed out of the boundary of the flesh, by virtue of contemplation, and death became dear to her as the beginning of life and the reward of her works.” With such lamentations he one day confided his griefs to a friend who had surprised him sitting in a solitary place and meditating on his sorrow in silence. But neither his ascetic tendencies, nor the infirmities from which he suffered, sufficed to deter him from the duties of his office. A Roman heart beat in his breast, and he dedicated himself to his sacred calling with a firmness worthy of the olden times. His mind, not less than his zeal, extended afar the beneficent action which made him a centre to different nations, and a guide to the new civilization which, as yet unsuspected, owed its new-born life to his impulse. From all these continuous cares, animated by a charity both intense and comprehensive, there originated among other works a volume of most remarkable letters, which form the highest testimony to his noble life, and at the same time the most important historical monument of his age. These letters, divided into fourteen books according to the fourteen years of his pontificate, and written to every class of persons, describe admirably the conditions of the times, and give a faithful picture of what life was then like, while confirming or maintaining the record of facts either little or not at all known. In its simplicity and freedom from all ornament each one indicates the circumstances which called it forth; and regarding them as a whole, we gather from them what were the habitual reflections and aspirations of the pontiff.

The style of the prophets, of which we distinctly feel the influence in his other works, has not such hold upon him when he sets forth his thoughts and wishes fervently and spontaneously, without literary aims, and almost always hurried by the urgency of the matter. Hence his letters, free from mystical bombast, flow along easily and remind us sometimes of the simple and dignified Latin of an earlier period. The subjects of them are exceedingly varied, and treat of every matter from the highest ecclesiastical and political ques­tions to the minute administration of the Church’s possessions, and from the anxious care of individual souls to the pathetic narrative of his own long and almost continual sufferings, moral and physical. But the production here of some of these letters may serve better than anything else to give an idea both of their importance and of the miserable condition in which Italy then was. Thus the following letter addressed to the Empress Constantina, in order to obtain from the emperor some alleviation of the hardships undergone by the islands of Corsica and Sardinia, shows what the Greek government was like, and how Italy was torn in pieces by the double tyranny of her new and of her old oppressors :

“Since I know how much our most gracious lady considers the heavenly kingdom and the life of her own soul, I think that I should be committing a great fault if I were silent with regard to those things which are suggested to me by the fear of Almighty God. Having heard that there are many Gentiles in the island of Sardinia, and that, according to their depraved custom, they still sacrifice to idols, and that the priests of the island have become lax in preaching our Redeemer, I sent one of the Italian bishops there, who with the help of God converted many of these Gentiles to the faith. But he has informed me of a sacrilegious matter, namely that those who sacrifice to idols pay a tax to the judge that it may be permitted to them; of whom some now, being baptized, have given up sacrificing to idols, yet still this tax which they had been accustomed to pay for that purpose is exacted from them by the same judge, even after baptism. And when he was found fault with by the bishop for this, he answered that he had promised to pay so much for his post, which he could not do unless by these means. But the island of Corsica is oppressed by such extortions on the part of the tax-gatherers, and by such burthen of taxation, that the inhabitants can hardly satisfy these demands even by selling their own children. Whence it happens that these islanders are obliged to desert their holy Republic, and to escape to the most accursed nation of the Lombards. And indeed what could they suffer from the barbarians more oppressive or cruel, than that they should be driven to sell their children? And in the island of Sicily a certain carthularius on the sea-coast is said to cause so much injury and oppression by invading the possessions of individuals, and without any lawsuit affixing orders of eviction on houses and farms, that if I tried to relate all the things told me of him, I should take up more than a large volume. All which things, therefore, may our most gracious lady attend to, and comfort the groans of the oppressed. For I am quite sure that they have never reached your pious ears, for if they had they would not have lasted until now. Make them known, on fitting occasion, to your devout lord, that he may remove such a heavy load of sin from his own soul, from the Empire, and from his children. And I know well that he will perhaps say that he sends to us, for the expenses of Italy, all that is collected from the above­mentioned islands; but I answer—let him give less for the expenses of Italy, and let him remove from his Empire the tears of the oppressed. And perhaps on that account so much outlay expended on this country avails so little, because it is provided for partly by sin. Let therefore your most gracious lordships command that nothing hence­forth be collected sinfully, for I am persuaded that even if less is contributed to the necessities of the commonwealth, it will still be more advantaged. And should it even happen that it receives less advantage from these smaller contributions, it is nevertheless better that our temporal life should suffer than that any hindrance should be placed in the way of your eternal life. Consider with what thoughts, with what feelings must these parents tear themselves away from their children, in order not to be further racked. And whoever has children of their own should know well how to feel for the children of others. Let it therefore be enough for me to have suggested these things, in order that your piety might not be ignorant of what is happening in those parts, and I might not be arraigned by the severe Judge for my silence.”

Witnessing the continual devastation of Italian territory, and being conscious that the Imperial Government hindered more than it helped, Gregory tried as often as he could to conclude temporary truces with the Lombards, in order that Rome at least, and the provinces still belonging to the Empire, might find some rest from the horrors of continuous warfare. But Romanus, the exarch of Ravenna, actuated by a narrow and jealous policy, threw obstacles in his way, and among other things broke up an agreement upon which he was entering with Ariulph, the Lombard duke of Spoleto. There resulted from this an incursion of Lombards round Rome, with slaughters and ravages up to the very walls. The pontiff, overcome by grief, fell ill, and only recovered in order to meet with fresh vexations. Agilulph, the king of the Lombards, wishing to regain possession of some cities taken from him through treason by the Greeks, moved rapidly from Pavia towards Tuscany, regained Perugia, and did not stop till he reached the walls of Rome, whence he spread havoc on all sides. The pontiff, who at that time was expounding Ezekiel to the Romans in a course of homilies, was so overwhelmed by these calamities that he could not continue his exposition. “Everywhere,” he exclaimed, “we see mourning, everywhere we hear groans; cities are destroyed, castles are sacked, the fields are devastated, the whole land has become a desert. Some we have seen carried into captivity, some mutilated, others put to death.” And further on, excusing himself to his flock for not continuing, he adds: “Let no man blame me if I shall cease after this discourse, for as you all see, our tribulations have increased. Everywhere we are surrounded by the sword, everywhere we are in instant peril of death. Some have returned to us with their hands cut off, others are announced to us as captives or dead. I am now obliged to refrain from further exposition.”

But while he was doing all that he could to alleviate the misfortunes of his country, and grieved over them both as a Christian and a citizen, the imperial dignitaries were trying to undermine his authority at the court of Constantinople, and accused him of having allowed himself to be deceived by the Duke of Spoleto, and hence to have deceived the emperor. Gregory indignantly defended himself, and wrote to the emperor with great frankness and resolution :

“If the slavery of my land were not increasing daily, I would say nothing of the contempt and derision in which I am held. But what pains me is this, that while I am not believed, Italy is dragged more and more under the yoke of the Lombards. I say to my devout lord: let him think every evil of me; but with regard to the weal of the commonwealth, and the liberation of Italy, let him give heed to no one, but believe facts more than words. And let not our lord in his earthly power be so readily indignant with the priests, but in consideration of Him, whose servants they are, lay his commands upon them in such way as to show them proper reverence. I will now briefly relate what I have had to suffer. First of all, the peace which, without loss to the commonwealth, I had made with the Lombards of Tuscany, was disturbed; and when it had been disturbed, the soldiers were taken away from Rome, some killed by the enemy, the rest placed at Narni or Perugia, and, in order to hold Perugia, Rome was abandoned. And when Agilulph came, things were worse; then I had with my own eyes to see Romans, like dogs, with a rope round their necks going to be sold in France. We indeed, thanks be to God, escaped from their hands, being shut up in the city; but then an effort was made to inculpate us because there was not corn enough in the city, where, however, as I explained another time, it cannot be kept for long. Nor do I grieve for myself; for having a quiet conscience, I confess that as long as my soul is in safety I hold myself prepared for everything. But I do grieve for those heroic men, the Prefect Gregory, and Castorius, magister militum, who did everything that could be done, underwent during the siege immense fatigues of day and night watches, and nevertheless incurred afterwards the severe displeasure of the sovereigns. Whence I plainly see that it was not their actions but my person that injured them, and that after having gone through these fatigues with me, with me now they are suffering tribulations. And as to what is hinted to me of the terrible judgment of Almighty God, I pray by the same Almighty God that the piety of my sovereigns may repeat this no more. Since we cannot know what this judgment will be, and Paul the estimable preacher says, ‘Judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts.’ This I say briefly, because I, unworthy sinner, trust more in the mercy of Jesus than in the justice of your piety. And may God guide here with his hand my devout lord, and in that terrible judgment find him free from every crime; and may He make me pleasing, if it is needful, to men, but in such a way that I may not transgress His eternal grace.”

These calumnies, however, and obstacles did not prevent him from negotiating fresh truces with the Lombards, and thus trying to save Italy, especially the country districts, from those wars which involved so much misery. There was then reigning over the Lombards, Agilulph, formerly duke of Turin, a prince of great valour, but of a tolerably conciliatory character, who had been called to the throne by Queen Theodolinda when she was left a widow on the death of King Authari, and was invited by the nobles to decide the destinies of the kingdom by selecting a second husband among the Lombard dukes as successor to the king who had died. This princess, a lady of noble qualities, Bavarian by birth, and in faith a Catholic, exercised a great and salutary influence in the affairs of the kingdom, and in the counsels of her husband, and was often a peace­maker. From the letters of Gregory we can also discern in what high esteem he held her, and how he hoped by her means to draw to the Catholic faith the Lombards who, as we have already said, were followers partly of the Arian heresy, and partly still of rude and superstitious idolatry. And indeed he lived to see his desire at least partially fulfilled; and it is supposed that Theodolinda’s persuasions induced Agilulph to abandon Arianism, as in England those of Bertha secured the conver­sion of Ethelbert. Certainly after Agilulph the Lombards began gradually to hold the same faith as the Italian people, and this fact was of great political significance, since it helped to lessen the division between the two nations, and, as far as was possible, to bring about that fusion between them to which, however, the existence of the Eastern Empire always offered a serious obstacle. About that time the Cathedral of Monza was founded by Theodolinda, and to it she presented the so-called iron crown which was used at the coronation of all the kings of Italy from that time; and after having crowned Charlemagne and Napoleon is still preserved there, and lately bore its part on a solemn occasion behind the bier of Victor Emmanuel, the reviver of the Italian kingdom. Agilulph having had a son (A.D. 603), he had him baptized according to the Catholic ritual, and Gregory, delighted at this event of which he well saw the full importance, sent his praises and congratulations to Theodolinda in a letter which we give here :

“The writing which you lately sent us from the Genoese countries made us sharers in your joy, both on account of the son given to you by the grace of Almighty God, and because we know, what is very praiseworthy in your excellency, that he is made a member of the Catholic faith. Nor could we have believed otherwise of your Christianity than that you should endeavour to protect, by the assistance of the Catholic righteousness, him whom you received by Divine favour, both that your Redeemer might recognize you as His devoted handmaiden, and that the new king of the Lombard nation might be nourished in His fear. Whence we pray Almighty God that He should both keep you in the way of His commandments, and should make this your most excellent son Adolowald proficient in His love. So that as here he is already great among men, he may also become glorious by good deeds before the eyes of our God. But that which your excellency wrote that we should answer our most beloved son Secundinus, the abbot, with respect to those things which he wrote to us with great acumen, who would delay attending to his petition or your wishes which are for the profit of many, unless hindered by illness? But we are held by such an infirmity of gout, that not only we cannot dictate, but cannot even bear the fatigue of speaking, as also your ambassadors the bearers of this letter have known, for they both found us ill on their arrival, and they are leaving us now at their departure in extreme danger, and in a struggle for life. But if Almighty God wills it so, I shall recover, and shall answer all those things which he hath written with so much acumen. And I have sent you also by the bearers of this the acts of that synod called together by Justinian of pious memory, that this aforesaid son of mine may study them, and know that all that he has heard against the Apostolic Chair, and the Catholic Church, is false. For God forbid that we should accept the meaning of any heretic, or should deviate from the ways of our predecessor Leo of holy memory. But we receive whatever is laid down in the four holy synods, and we condemn whatever is disapproved.

And we also have directed that these relics should be given to our most excellent son Adolowald, the king; that is, a cross with the wood of the holy cross of our Lord, and the volume of the holy Gospel enclosed in a Persian case; also to my daughter, his sister, I have sent three rings—two with purple and one with a milk-white stone; which things I beg may be given to them by you, in order that our love for them may be graced by your excellency. We also pray with paternal affection, while mindful of all courteous greeting, that you should thank our most excellent son the king your consort, in our name, for the peace made; and should incite him in all ways for the future to peace, as you are accustomed to do, so that you may find, in the presence of God, among your many good works, the mercy shown to an innocent people who might otherwise have perished in a great ruin.”

The letters which we have chosen, not without hesitation among so many, may serve to give an idea of the sort of light they throw on the history of Italy at that time. But the vastness of Gregory’s intellect, as well as the inspirations he drew from his high office, and the width of his Christian charity, did not allow of his restricting the sphere of his action to Italy alone, and hence his volume of letters become a source of universal history. And indeed we are much assisted in judging of the state of Europe during his lifetime by the letters to France, especially those directed to the famous Queen Brunichild, and those sent to Spain where his principal correspondent was that Leander, bishop of Seville, who induced King Recaredus and his Visigoths to abandon the Arian heresy. In the same way the letters directed to Constanti­nople, Alexandria, and to other places in the East and in Africa, describe the state of the most distant countries and their intercourse with Rome. Gregory’s relations with England, and the part he took in the conversion of this country, are famous. The venerable Bede in his collection of English traditions has left a well-known narrative of them, which was repeated through all the Middle Ages, and quoted again lately in another volume of this series. In this narrative it is related how Gregory, not yet pope, having seen in Rome some English slaves, being struck by their beauty, and hearing that they were idolaters, conceived the idea of converting, or rather reconverting, England to the faith; and having obtained permission, set out as a missionary to this land. But hardly had he begun his journey before the Roman people rose to demand his immediate return, and obliged the pope to recall him. This story, which is not confirmed by anything in Gregory’s writings, shows nevertheless both the veneration which was felt for him in England some centuries after his death, and his affectionate solicitude for that mission to which his letters continually bear witness. We hope that we shall not be exceeding the limits of this work, specially dedicated to the history of Italy, if we quote a few passages from Gregory’s letters, in which he speaks of this undertaking which originated with him, rejoices over its success, and directs it with his instructions. He writes thus to Eulogius bishop of Alexandria :—

“But since I know that you rejoice in all the good done both by yourself and others, I give you in return the same pleasure, and announce not dissimilar things. For whereas the English nation, in a distant corner of the world, had hitherto remained superstitiously worshipping stocks and stones, I was induced by your prayers on my behalf to send, with the grace of God, a monk of our monastery to preach to it; who, being made a bishop by the German bishops with my permission, and encouraged by them, journeyed to this aforesaid people at the end of the world, and already has written to us of his welfare and of his work. For he and those who were sent with him shine with so many miracles among this people, that it is clear that they imitate the remarkable apostolic virtues which they teach. And on the occasion of the Christmas festival of this first indiction, we hear of more than ten thousand English having been baptized by this our brother and fellow-bishop. And I tell you of all this, that you may know what you can do in Alexandria by your speech, and in the ends of the world by your prayers. For your prayers prevail where you are not present, while your holy labours are made evident in the place where you are.”

Later in this letter—remarkable for its tone of natural satisfaction as well as for its humble faith—he alludes to a great contention which he had in the East with John the Faster, patriarch of Constantinople, with regard to the title of universal bishop, which Gregory declined for himself and would not recognize in others. But this question, which gave rise to many of Gregory’s letters, and to some of the most important for the history of the Church, is outside the limits of our inquiry, and we must not enter into it. We shall rather conclude these quotations with some passages of a letter written to Augustine himself with regard to his apostolate in England:

“Glory to God in the highest; peace on earth, goodwill towards men. As the dead grain of corn, falling into the ground, bore much fruit that it might not reign alone in heaven, so by His death we live, by His infirmity we are strengthened, by His suffering we are saved, by His love we inquire for our brethren in Britain whom we know not, by His grace we found those for whom we ignorantly inquired. But who could adequately here describe how much joy had sprung up in the hearts of all the faithful, that the English nation, by the operating grace of Almighty God, and by the labours of thy fraternity, has been suffused with the light of the holy faith, after the darkness of error was expelled; that it now with virtuous resolution tramples upon the idols to which it submitted before in abject terror; that it worships Almighty God with a pure heart; that it is protected by the rules of holy teaching from lapsing into unrighteous dealing; that it submits to the Divine precepts, and is intellectually raised; that it humiliates itself to earth in prayer lest it should be abased to earth in spirit? Whose work is this but His who said, ‘My Father works until now, and I work?’ ... Thou shouldst rejoice that the souls of the English are drawn by outward miracles to inward grace, but thou shouldst tremble lest, amid these wonders which occur, the weak spirit should be elated by presumption, and while raised to honour without, should fall within by vain glory ... For the disciples of truth should rejoice in nothing but in that good which they have in common with all, and thence there will be no end to their rejoicing. It remains, therefore, dearest brother, that while thou art doing these things outwardly through God’s co-operation, thou shouldst always inwardly judge thyself with discrimination, and with discrimination understand both what thou art in thyself, and what grace there is in that people for whose conversion it is that thou didst receive the gift of performing these miracles. And if thou remember to have ever offended against our Creator either in word or deed, recall this always to thy mind, that the memory of thy guilt may keep down the rising pride of thy heart; and whatever power thou mayst receive, or hast already received, to do miracles, consider that this is a gift not to thee, but to them for whose salvation it is conferred upon thee ... But I say these things because I desire to humble the soul of him who hears me  yet let also thy humility have perfect trust. For I, a sinner, hold a sure hope that thy sins are already forgiven by the grace of our Almighty Creator, and of our Redeemer, God, and Lord, Jesus Christ; and that on that account thou art chosen that the sins of others may be forgiven through thee. Nor wilt thou hereafter be grieved by any guilt, who strivest to cause joy in heaven over the conversion of many. For thus our Founder and Redeemer says, when speaking of the repentance of man,  ‘Verily I say unto you, there shall be more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons which need no repentance’. And if there is so great joy in heaven over one that repenteth, what must the joy be over a whole nation converted from their errors, who, embracing the faith, condemn with penitence the evils which they before committed? In this joy therefore of heaven and the angels, we repeat the very words of the angels with which we began. Let us say therefore, let all of us say, ‘Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace, goodwill towards men.’ ”

In the year 604, on the 14th of March, Gregory the Great ended a life which had been so virtuously and usefully spent. With the cessation of his corre­spondence the history of Italy loses its surest guide in that age. Some others also of Gregory’s works have a certain historical importance on account of their allusions to contemporary or recent events, and especially valuable among them are the Dialogues. This strange book is one of those which most fascinated the imagination of the Middle Ages, and in it Gregory related the life and miracles of St. Benedict, and of various other Italians, who had a reputation for holiness in his day, and most of whom were either known to him or to persons with whom he was acquainted. It is a collection of quaint, fantastic legends, and it is certainly characteristic of the age to find so much childish credulity in a man of such remarkable intellect. Still these legends are of great value, both because they are mixed up with real events, and on account of their allusions to places and monuments then existing, and to the usages and principal personages of the day.

After the death of Gregory, almost all direct and contemporary testimony to historical facts in Italy ceases during the Lombard period. The most important document is the Edict of King Rothari (a.d. 643), which, with the additions made by succeeding kings, constitutes the Lombard code of laws. Rothari prefixed to the Edict a prologue, which in the absence of other documents is of importance, as it gives a carefully compiled list of the Lombard kings with the names of their families, and an exact genealogy for ten genera­tions of the family of the Arodi, to which Rothari himself belonged.

Until Rothari collected them, the Lombard laws had never been written, but were handed down orally from generation to generation. And the same thing happened with regard to their enterprises generally. Like every other primitive Germanic race, they committed to song the ancient legends which narrated both the deeds of their ancestors, and, what they prized greatly, the genealogies of their families. About the year 670 a Lombard tried to gather rudely from these songs some hints regarding the descent of his people, and this work of his, called Origo Langobardorum, was also added to the prologue of the Edict of Rothari. Before these efforts there existed a history of the Lombards compiled by Secundus, bishop of Trent (d. 612) : of this history, which seems to have been valuable but is now entirely lost, there only remains mention in the writings of Paulus Diaconus, which we are now about to examine. The follower of Prosper of Aquitaine who carried his continua­tion as far as the year 671, and a Magister Stefanus who about 698 composed a very rude poem in praise of King Cunipert, are the only contemporary sources which we have besides the Origo and the Edict, and they are all the work of writers of Latin origin. The Lombards, more than any other German people, were slow in acquiring Latin culture, and began to acquire it only when their rule was near its setting. However, as Wattenbach observes, the grammarians who, notwithstanding the unfavourable nature of the times, had always continued their labours, began gradually to find disciples among the Lombards, and when the rule of these approached its end, they had educated for this foreign nation the historian who, like Jordanes, should after their fall at least preserve the memory of their mastery. This historian was Paulus Diaconus, and we now proceed to treat of him at some length, as being the most distinguished writer of this early part of the Middle Ages in Italy.

Paulus Diaconus has left us some records of himself here and there in his writings, and hence we can follow the traces of his life, which was certainly a remarkable one. His lineage was ancient, and according to the favourite custom of the Lombards, he does not omit to give us its history, into which is woven a great deal that is legendary. Leupchis, whom he mentions as the founder of the family, had descended into Friuli with Albuin on the occasion of the first Lombard invasion of Italy, and died there, leaving five sons of tender age, who soon afterwards were taken prisoners in an incursion of the Avari and carried far away from their country. After a long captivity one of them, Lopichis, having reached man’s estate, succeeded in escaping by flight. His journey was an adventurous one, full of hardships and dangers amidst the Alps. He first met with a wolf which guided him on his unknown road, and then, when the wolf mysteriously disappeared, the path was shown to him in a dream, and following it he finally reached Friuli. There he found the deserted house where he was born, and was able by the help of his relations, who recognized him, to restore it and to found his family. From Lopichis descended Arechis, from Arechis Warnefrit, who married a certain Theodolinda, and had about the year 720 a son, who was Paulus Warnefridus, or as he is more generally called, Paulus Diaconus.

The grammarian Flavianus—nephew of another grammarian, Felix—was Paul’s master in literature. While still a child he studied the Greek language, profitably as we believe, notwithstanding his modest assertion to the contrary in after days. It is not certain where he studied under Flavianus, whose name, as well as his uncle’s, indicates his Italian origin, but it seems probable that it was at Pavia in the very court of the king, according to the ancient German custom. Certainly Paul was at court in the time of King Ratchis (A.D. 744-749), for he relates having himself seen that king, after a banquet, show the famous goblet which Albuin had made of the skull of Cunimund, king of the Gepidi. As is known, Albuin, having killed King Cunimund in battle and afterwards married his daughter Rosamund, used on solemn occasions to drink out of his skull, from which a cup had been formed. One day he commanded that the goblet should be handed to the queen, calling upon her to drink gaily with her father. This horrible outrage, which later was cruelly avenged by Rosamund, appeared so great to Paul that he exclaims, while relating it to us, “Lest this should seem incredible to any, behold I speak the truth in Christ; for indeed I saw on a certain feast-day King Ratchis holding this cup in his hand and showing it to his guests.”

This anecdote, which we have introduced here as an instance of the rude ferocity of the first Lombards, helps us to follow the private history of Paul’s life, nor is this the only episode in which we find him in intimate relations with the princes of his time. The earliest writing of Paul’s which remains (a.D. 763) is a poem on the six ages of the world, the verses of which form an acrostic on the name of Adelperga Pia, the daughter of the Lombard King Desiderius and wife of Arechis, duke and later prince of Benevento. This princess, who had been a pupil of Paul’s, always remained his friend, and invited him later to enlarge and continue the Roman history of Eutropius. It also appears that he composed the epitaph in verse for Queen Ansa, the mother of Adelperga, whose body was brought back to her native country from France, whither she had followed her husband Desiderius when the Lombard kingdom was overthrown by the power of Charlemagne. The lines of the inscription, the style of which seems certainly that of Paul, breathe a profound melancholy, and bear witness to the affection of the author for his Lombard lineage. It is not known with certainty when he received holy orders, nor whether he had received them before entering the cloister, but it does not seem improbable that he went as monk to Montecassino at the time that Ratchis, hurled from his throne, found a refuge there. And there the solemn peace of the cloister gained such empire over Paul, that perhaps he would never have been persuaded to leave it unless the force of circumstances had called him forth. After the fall of the Lombard kingdom there broke out in 776 a revolt against the Franks, especially in the Duchy of Friuli; and even if Paul was a stranger to this revolt, certainly his brother Arechis took part in it, and was for this reason taken prisoner to France, while all his possessions were confiscated. This circumstance must have been the origin of a legend regarding Paul, which arose about the tenth century and was widely diffused for a long time afterwards. According to this story, Charlemagne sent Paul into exile, suspecting his complicity in a conspiracy, and confined him in the small island of Tremiti on the Adriatic coast, whence he succeeded after some time in escaping by miracle, and taking refuge first at Benevento, afterwards at Montecassino. In all this there is not a shadow of truth; on the contrary, six years after the exile of his brother Arechis, when Charlemagne had already come to Rome and shown much moderation and clemency in State affairs, and also a desire to encourage letters, we find Paul addressing the victorious monarch in verse, imploring that his brother may be restored to his family, whose miserable condition he describes in vivid colours and with great pathos. To insure the success of his appeal Paul left his monastery and crossed the Alps, in order to betake himself to the court of Charles. The king received him with great honour, and retained him longer than he would willingly have stayed. From the banks of the Moselle the longing thoughts of the monk turn to the peace and sweetness he had tasted amidst the majestic solitudes of Montecassino, and he writes to his abbot Theodemar in these words:—

“Although my body is separated from your company by a vast extent of territory, I am nevertheless joined to you by a tenacious affection which nothing will ever loosen; nor can I hope to express in a letter and within the brief limit of these pages, how constantly and profoundly I am moved by the thought of your affection and that of my elders and my brethren. For when I consider the leisure filled with sacred occupations, the delectable dwelling of my refuge, your pious and religious dispositions,—when I consider the holy band of so many soldiers of Christ zealous in all Divine offices, and the resplendent examples of individual brethren in special virtues, and the sweet converse respecting the perfections of our celestial home,—I tremble, I gaze, I languish, nor can I restrain my tears, while my breast is rent with deep sighs. I am living among Catholics and followers of Christian worship; I am well received; all show me abundant kindness for love of our father Benedict, and for the sake of your merits: but compared to your convent this palace is a prison; in contrast with the great calm which there is with you, life here seems to me a continual storm. I am only held in this country by my weak body, but with the whole of my soul I am with you. Now I seem to be in the midst of your sweet singing, now to be sitting with you in the refectory where the reading even more than the food satisfies, now to consider the works of each one in his special duty, now to inquire into the condition of those oppressed by age or sickness, now to wear away the tombstones of the saints dear to me as heaven itself.”

He goes on in his letter to ask for their prayers on his behalf, that he may soon be restored to them; but his return was not to be as soon as he hoped. At that very time Charlemagne, by assembling at his court from every country all those in whom still survived some ray of a culture which had now almost entirely died out, was trying to infuse fresh life into Roman civilization, just as he aimed in the domain of politics at resuscitating the name of Rome and the authority of the Empire. Paulus Diaconus could not remain a stranger to this work, and was easily induced to take his share in it, as appears evident from the verses which Petrus Pisanus addressed to him in the name of Charles, in which his talents and his knowledge are exalted, and he is compared to the greatest writers of antiquity. “My daughter,” Charles is made to say in these verses, “is to be married in Greece, and it is my desire that Paul may instruct in the Grecian tongue those who are to accompany her to Constantinople.” Paul, answering likewise in verse, accepts the office, but modestly declines the royal praises, and at the same time denies that he attempted the conversion of Sigfried, king of Denmark, which Charles in another poem by Petrus Pisanus attributed to him. About this time Paul composed the epitaphs of Ildegard wife of Charlemagne (d. 783), of his sisters and daughters. Besides, also at Charles’s request, he finished a valuable collection of homilies, already begun at Montecassino, and which doubtless was of great assistance to the clergy, who at that time were almost without exception exceedingly ignorant. Nor were these the only literary labours of this monk, who had now become a celebrity among the men of letters of his day. He made an extract of the famous Essay of Festus Pompeius, De Verborum Significatione, preserving thus for posterity a document which is still of great value to students of Roman Law. At the request of Angilramnus, bishop of Metz, Paul wrote the history of the bishops of Metz, and so began the series of episcopal histories on this side of the Alps which have done such good service in every country in completing the general history of the Christian Church and of its gradual development. In this work he gave a diffuse account of the life of St. Arnulph, a member of the Carolingian family, and did not omit this opportunity of celebrating the glory and the virtues of Charlemagne. It must have been at the court of Charles that Paul formed ties of warm and intimate friendship with Adalard, abbot of the famous monastery of Corvey, a relation of Charlemagne’s, and one of the most important personages of that age. This friendship also bore literary fruit, as, at the wish of his friend, Paul undertook to look through and revise the letters of Gregory the Great, whose life he also wrote, but, being taken ill, was not able to complete more than a short part of the whole work, which he sent to Adalard together with a letter full of affection.

It appears that Paul, during the many years that he remained there, visited the greater part of France and its principal monasteries; but the attractions of that country were not enough to make him forget his own beloved land, nor were the many friendships that he formed able to retain him permanently at the court of Charles. Perhaps, as Wattenbach observes, the growing enmity between Charles and Arechis, the Lombard prince of Benevento, which finally broke out into open warfare, may have ended in making that residence a painful one for him, although these events did not in any way disturb his personal relations with the king. At any rate, in 787 we again find Paul at Montecassino, where he composed a fine epitaph for Prince Arechis, who died that very year; and thus gave a last pledge of his faithful friendship for the husband of his pupil Adelperga. The yearning aspiration of the monk was at length satisfied. After his long wanderings amidst the turmoil of the world and the pomps of courts, he finally returned to enjoy that undisturbed peace of which certain spirits feel more imperiously the need, the longer and more repeatedly it has been denied to them. From the summit of that mountain where so many centuries of holy memories are accumulated, and where St. Benedict sowed a seed which bore such civilizing fruit, this solitary monk, free at last from all worldly cares, was able to lift his thoughts from the observation of secular events, to the calm contemplation of the Divine Source of all. Thus in that tranquil retreat he employed the remainder of his days in composing the last two labours of his pen, a commentary on the Monastic Rule, and that history of the Lombards which secured him a lasting place among the best writers of the Middle Ages.

Paul seemed destined for an historian by his birth and the circumstances of his life. Born in Italy of Lombard parentage, when the Lombard rule was drawing near its fall, attached to the people from whom he sprang, and the friend of their princes, and on the other hand educated by Italian masters in the traditions, doubly Latin, both of classical and ecclesiastical studies, Paulus Diaconus was both Italian and Lombard. Hence that kind of patriotism which in him combined the two races, and seemed to symbolize a fusion between them which could not ever be complete, and was only partially reached when the Lombard oppressor, conquered by the Franks, found himself in this common misfortune on a nearer level with the oppressed race. Paul had already, when working at Eutropius, narrated the history of Rome, and now he seemed only to have changed the title of his work, and in the history of the Lombards to be writing the continuation of the former. The primitive Germanic races, without letters or culture, entrusted the preservation of their genealogies and of their daring deeds to tradition, which handed them down in songs and legends. The office of the historian was to extract from these the life of the people whom they celebrated, when the accumulation of events and the dawn of civilization created an almost unconscious wish for a more trustworthy and lasting narrative. Hence this continual interweaving of real and legendary facts, which gives a special character to the history of the Lombards, who, indeed, rough but chivalrous by nature, often acted in a romantic manner, and influenced more by a wish to show off their prowess than by reasons of state or prudence. A great Italian historian, Cesare Balbo, has very justly remarked that from the times of King Authari and Queen Theodolinda (that Theodolinda who was the friend of Gregory the Great), “in Italy the days if not the name of chivalry may be said to date,—days more agreeable to the imagination than in reality, more admirable in romance than in history,—days not without their virtues, but virtues lavishly thrown away.” And indeed no tale of chivalry of a later age tells us of a more romantic or poetical adventure than the following one which we translate from Paul’s words :—

“And afterwards King Authari sent ambassadors to Bavaria, to ask for the daughter of the King Garibald in marriage. He received them graciously, and promised to give his daughter Theodolinda to Authari. So when the ambassadors returned with this answer, Authari wished to see for himself what his bride was like, and taking with him a few chosen Lombards, and one especially in whom he had great confidence to act as elder of the party, proceeded to Bavaria without delay. And when they had been conducted, after the manner of ambassadors, into the presence of King Garibald, and when that one who had come as elder had, after the first greetings, made the customary harangue, Authari then came forward, knowing that he could not be recognized by any of that country, and approaching the king, said, ‘My lord King Authari, has specially sent me hither that I may see and be able to describe to my lord your daughter, his bride and our future lady.’ Then the king, hearing this, sent for his daughter; and Authari, seeing that she was of most graceful appearance, long contemplated her in silence, and being charmed with her in every respect, turned to the king, saying,  ‘Since we see your daughter to be such as appears to us to deserve that she should become our queen, we would ask, if it please your mightiness, that she may hand to us now the wine­cup, as she will do hereafter’. And when the king had agreed that this should be done, she, taking the wine-cup, handed it first to him who seemed to be the elder. Then she offered it to Authari, whom she did not know to be her betrothed; and he, after he had drunk and returned the cup, touched her hand, without being perceived by the others, with his finger, and then drew his hand over his face from the forehead downwards. This she related to her nurse with shamefaced blushes; to which her nurse replied, ‘Unless this man were himself the king and your betrothed, he would certainly not venture to touch you; however, in the meantime let us say nothing about it, nor even mention it to your father. For in truth he is most worthy both to govern a kingdom and to be joined to you in matrimony’. For at that time Authari was in the prime of his manhood, of noble stature, with a profusion of fair hair and of a very dignified appearance. Afterwards, having received an escort from the king, they set off on the return journey to their country, and hurriedly passed the frontiers of Noricum. For the province of Noricum, which is inhabited by bar­barians, has Pannonia to the east of it, Suabia to the west, on the south Italy, and on the north the river Danube. And when Authari was already near the confines of Italy, and had still with him the Bavarian escort, he rose as high as he could in his saddle, for he was on horseback, and struck with all his might a small axe which he carried in his hand into a tree near him, leaving it hanging in the tree, and adding these words: ‘Such are the wounds made by Authari.’ And when they heard this, the Bavarians who were escorting him understood that he was himself King Authari.”

Nor is it only in such facts that the story of the Lombards has so legendary a character. This chivalrous tendency spoken of by Balbo shows itself in many of the most important political events of the time, and leaves its impress on many real actions of the Lombard people. This tendency also is reflected as in a mirror in the simple and imaginative mind of Paulus Diaconus, and it is fortunate for posterity that it is so. He finds in it the inspiration of his narrative, which treats of historical facts with the vivid colouring borrowed from tradition, and does not spoil their effect by exhibitions of empty erudition or by attempts at criticism, which could not in his time have been other than imperfect. Thus he makes us intimately acquainted with that Lombard age, and his characters are painted with a vigour and richness of colouring which wonderfully help us to understand them, and to reconstruct those times, of which he alone has left us so general and lasting a record. Lombards, Greeks, Romans, from the reign of Albuin to that of Liutprand, all pass vividly before us. All these kings, their principal adherents, and their most determined foes, the heaven-inspired saints, the women of heroic virtues or of wicked wiles, all live again and pass before us in the pages of Paul. Open battles or conspiracies, the splendour of courts or the caves of hermits, sacrilege and miracles, the most devoted faithfulness and the darkest treachery follow each other and are woven together in lively contrast. We should gladly give many extracts in confirmation of what we say, but the limits of our space forbid our doing so, and we must content ourselves with one long and remark­able episode, giving it mainly as Paul himself relates it.

After the glorious reign of Rothari, the great Lombard legislator, and the very short one of his son Rodoald, Aripert, son of a brother of Queen Theodolinda, was called to the throne and reigned for nine years, of which the history tells us next to nothing. After his death his two sons, Godepert and Perctarit, divided the kingdom between them, the former fixing his residence at Pavia, the second at Milan. This division, quite a novelty for the Lombards, shows how unsettled general feeling was about the election, and how difficult any agreement was. Indeed, after a short time the brothers came to open discord, and Godepert, at the instigation of evil advisers, sent the duke of Turin to the south of Italy to Grimuald, duke of Benevento, then one of the most powerful princes, and held in high esteem for his personal qualities. The ambassador was commissioned to offer Grimuald a sister of Godepert’s in marriage, and to ask his assistance against Perctarit; but he betrayed his master, and offered instead the crown to Grimuald, exhorting him to take advantage of the dissensions between the two brothers, in order to make himself king of Italy. When Grimuald betook himself to Lombardy, the duke of Turin, always intent on his project, succeeded so well in exciting suspicions in the minds of both, that their first meeting ended tragically in the murder of Godepert by the hand of Grimuald. As soon as King Perctarit heard of this, he found himself obliged to leave Milan so hastily, that his queen and his son Cunipert were left behind, and were both sent into exile to Benevento. Grimuald then married the sister of the murdered Godepert—a fact, though strange, not without its parallel in Lombard history,—and was confirmed king at Pavia, in the year 662. The vicissitudes of the dethroned King Perctarit during his exile until he regained his throne are thus narrated by Paulus Diaconus: “When therefore the kingdom on the Ticino had been assured to Grimuald, he not long afterwards married the daughter of King Aripert, who had been already betrothed to him, and whose brother Godepert he had killed. He also sent home, after having rewarded it largely, the army from Benevento, through the assistance of which he had made himself master of the kingdom, retaining, however, at his court some members of it, whom he enriched with large possessions.

“Later, when he heard that Perctarit had fled to Scythia, and was living there with a khan, he sent an embassy to this khan, who was king of the Avari, to let him know that if he allowed Perctarit to remain in his kingdom, he could no longer hope to be at peace, as he had been hitherto, with the Lombards and with himself. When the king of the Avari heard this he summoned Perctarit, and told him to depart in whatever direction he wished, in order not to create enmity between the Avari and the Lombards. On hearing this, Perctarit returned to Italy in order to appeal to Grimuald, of whose great clemency he had heard much. As soon as he reached Lodi, he sent forward a very faithful follower of his, to announce his coming to Grimuald. When Unulph came to the king he informed him that Perctarit was coming, trusting in his good faith; and the king hearing this, promised solemnly that no evil should happen to him since he put his trust in him. In the meantime Perctarit arrived, entered, and made an effort to throw himself at Grimuald’s feet; the king, however, would not permit it, and graciously raising him, kissed him. And then Perctarit: ‘I am thy servant,’ saith he;  ‘and it is because I know thee to be so truly Christian and pious that I, who could live among the heathen, have come to thy feet, supported by the belief in thy clemency.’ To him the king replied, sealing the promise with his usual oath, ‘By him who begat me, since thou hast come trusting to my good faith, thou shalt surely suffer no evil, and I shall so provide for thee that thou mayest live honourably.’ Then having appointed for him an apartment in a spacious palace, he desired him to rest after the fatigues of his journey, commanding that his food and all other requirements should be liberally supplied at the public cost. But Perctarit, when he had with­drawn to the dwelling provided for him by the king, was presently visited by large numbers of the citizens of Pavia, either from curiosity or because they were old acquaintances. But who is safe from slanderous tongues? For later, certain ill-natured flatterers, coming to the king, warned him that unless Perctarit were quickly made away with, he would himself soon lose both life and kingdom; for this they declared was the cause of his being visited by the whole of the city. Grimuald, too credulous in accepting these accusations, and for­getful of his promises, is inflamed with a sudden desire for the death of the innocent Perctarit, and holds counsel as to the way in which, it being already late, he should have him killed on the morrow. At length he sends him a variety of dishes for his supper, with choice wines and different kinds of drinks, in the hope of making him drunk, so that, spending the whole night in feast­ing, and oppressed by wine, he might not think of taking any measures for his safety. A certain one, however, who had been among the followers of his father, and being the same who brought now this royal banquet to Perctarit, bowed his head even below the table in act of homage, and informed him secretly of the king’s intention to kill him. Perctarit then immediately desired his cupbearer to bring him nothing but a little water in a silver goblet. When, therefore, those who brought all these different kinds of drink from the king begged him in the king’s name to drink the whole goblet, he, declaring he would drain it in honour of the king, in reality only sipped a little water from this silver cup. And when the messengers reported to the king how greedily he was drinking, the king replied, quite delighted, ‘Let the drunken fellow drink ; for tomorrow he will shed all this wine mixed with his own blood.’ But Perctarit, having quickly called Unulph to him, told him of the king’s designs against his life. Whereupon Unulph sent his servant immediately to his house to bring his bed-things, and to make him up a bed close to that of Perctarit. Nor was it long before Grimuald directed his satellites to guard the house in which Perctarit was sleeping, and not to let him by any means escape. When the supper was ended and every one had left, and only Perctarit and Unulph remained with the keeper of the ward­robe, of whose fidelity they were both sufficiently assured, they discovered to him the matter and implored of him, while Perctarit was escaping, to feign for as long as possible to be asleep in Perctarit’s bed-chamber. He having promised to do so, Unulph loaded Perctarit’s head and shoulders with the bed-things, the mattress and the bear­skin, and began to drive him out of the doors on purpose like a rustic servant, scolding him angrily, and not ceasing to whip and urge him on, so that often he fell to the ground from the violence of the blows. And when the royal satel­lites who were keeping watch asked Unulph what all this meant, he answered, ‘This good-for-nothing servant of mine put my bed in the bed-chamber of that drunkard Perctarit, who is so full of wine that he lies there half dead. But now ’tis enough : I have endured his madness till now; henceforth, while our lord the king likes, I shall remain in my own house.’ When they heard this they were well pleased, for they believed it to be true, and allowed him to pass together with Perctarit, whom they supposed to be a servant, and whose head was purposely covered that he might not be recognized. When they had left, that most faithful keeper of the wardrobe, having carefully fastened the door, remained within alone. In the meantime Unulph let down Perctarit by a rope from the corner of the wall which is near the river Ticino, and collected round him as many friends as he could. They, having seized upon the horses which they found in the meadows, hurried on that same night to the town of Asti, in which some remained who were friends to Perctarit, and who were still in rebellion against Grimuald. Thence Perctarit, going on to the city of Turin with all speed, and crossing then the frontiers of Italy, reached the country of the Franks. And thus God Almighty, by the providence of his mercy, both saved an innocent man from death, and a king who in his heart desired to act aright, from a great offence.

“But in the meantime, King Grimuald, while he thought that Perctarit was asleep in his house, caused a body of men to be distributed between that house and the palace, in such a manner that Perctarit, being led through the midst of them, might not by any means escape. When those sent by the king to call forth Perctarit had come and had knocked at the door where they supposed him to be sleeping, that keeper of the wardrobe who was within prayed them, saying, ‘Have pity upon him, and let him sleep a little, for he is still oppressed with a heavy sleep after the fatigues of his journey.’ Which, when they had agreed to, they reported to the king, namely, that Perctarit was still overcome with a heavy sleep. To which he rejoined, ‘He drank so much wine last night that he cannot yet wake.’ However, he commanded them to arouse him now, and conduct him to the palace. So when they came to the door where they imagined that Perctarit was sleeping, they began to knock louder. Then the keeper of the wardrobe again began to beg of them to let Perctarit sleep a little longer. But they, calling out angrily that this drunkard had slept enough, break open the door with kicks, and having got in, look for Perctarit in his bed. Not finding him, they ask the keeper of the wardrobe what has become of him. To which he replies that he has escaped. Then immediately seizing him by the hair and striking him furiously, they drag him off to the palace. And having led him into the king’s presence, they declare that he has abetted in the flight of Perctarit, and is therefore worthy of death. But the king desired them to loosen him, and inquired of him, in order, the manner of Perctarit’s flight; and he recounted to the king everything just as it happened. Then the king asked those who stood around him, saying, ‘What do you think of this man who has done such things?’ Then they all replied with one accord that he deserved to die after many tortures. But the king exclaimed, ‘By him who begat me, that man is deserving of good treatment who feared not to suffer death for the sake of his lord.’ And then he commanded that he should be made one of his keepers of the wardrobe, admonishing him to be as faithful to him as he had been to Perctarit, and promising him many advantages. And when the king asked what had become of Unulph, he was told that he had taken refuge in the Basilica of the Archangel Michael. Then he sent to him, promising of his own accord that no evil should befall him, if only he would trust himself to him. And Unulph, when he heard these promises of the king’s, came to the palace, and throwing himself at the king’s feet, was asked by him in what way and manner Perctarit had been able to escape. And when he had narrated everything to him in order, the king praised his fidelity and prudence, and graciously assured to him all his present posses­sions as well as any he might acquire in the future.

“And when, some time after, the king asked Unulph whether he still wished to be with Perctarit, he answered with a solemn oath that he would rather die with Perctarit than live anywhere else in the midst of the greatest delights. Then the king asked also that same keeper of the ward­robe whether he liked better to stay with him in his palace, or to follow Perctarit in his wanderings; and when he had answered just the same things as Unulph, the king, after listening graciously, to what they had to say, and praising them for their fidelity, desired Unulph to take whatever he liked from his house—that is to say, servants and horses, and all sorts of household chattels, and to make all haste to Perctarit, and that no one should harm him. In the same way he dismissed the keeper of the ward­robe. So that having been able to take away through the king’s kindness all that belonged to them, they departed with his assistance for the country of the Franks, in order to reach their beloved Perctarit.”

The drama, however, was not yet finished. Five years later Grimuald died from a wound which his doctors were suspected of having poisoned, and his chronicler thus sums up his character and appearance: “Powerful in body, foremost in daring, bald, with a prominent beard, gifted no less in mind than in bodily strength.” At the very time of his death, Perctarit was preparing to sail for Britain, and had, indeed, already embarked when a supernatural voice called to him from the shore, bidding him return to his own country, for that Grimuald had died three days before. Obeying the Divine command he started without delay, and on reaching the Italian frontier found waiting for him the court officials and great dignitaries of the kingdom, and great multitudes of people. So he returned in triumph to Pavia and within three months of Grimuald’s death was raised again to the throne by the unanimous wish of the Lombards. A son of Grimuald’s, by a former marriage, reigned at Benevento as duke, but of the little Garibald, off­spring of his later marriage with Perctarit’s sister, we have little or no trace beyond the fact of his uncle having superseded him. Perctarit reigned for seventeen years, during the last ten of which he associated his son in the government, and of him also we have the following succinct description: “He was of goodly stature, corpulent in body, in all things gentle and gracious,” which explains to some extent the devotion of his followers.

From the examples we have given, it will not be difficult for the reader to comprehend the principal merits of Paul as a writer, as well as his defects. Born at a time when Latin literature had lapsed into complete barbarism, he wrote well as compared with his contemporaries, but certainly we must not expect from him that unerring purity of style which belongs to the Latin authors of another age. A sweet and often elegant poet, he handles the Latin language with the easy if not irreproachable grace of one who had spoken it from his boyhood. His style is very unequal, and the inequality arises often from the sources whence he draws his narrative. Generally he is clear, but sometimes we meet with passages in his book so intricate and obscure, that they still cause the desperation of the learned who have to interpret them. He loves truth with the fervour of a thoroughly honest man, but his credulity leads him to repeat in perfect good faith just as he finds them all the miraculous stories scattered in chronicles or preserved in traditions. Yet we should not be ungrateful to him for this, since his vast and at that time unusual erudition might easily have tempted him to spoil the simplicity of his narrative, which would have diminished both its charm and its historical value. As it is, his history is of immense importance, especially as we have the certainty that he made use of the materials, now irrecoverably lost, of an older historian of the Lombards, Secundus, bishop of Trent. Accustomed to interest himself in many places and countries, his canvas is a very wide one, and he has drawn largely upon other writers in order to give accounts of events which happened at a distance both of time and space from himself. Hence he often has recourse not only to the Origo and Bishop Secundus, but to Gregory of Tours, the Venerable Bede, the lives of the popes, the works of Gregory the Great, and other similar writers. The love of truth which animated him, the many things seen during his travels, his familiar intercourse with the Lombard and Frankish courts, gave him great facilities for collecting the traditions of the past; while his own ingenuous character added that “touch of nature” which gives life to his whole narrative. Whenever the Historia Langobardorum deals with real events, it is always worthy of the utmost consideration, and its testimony is important; when, on the other hand, it introduces legendary matter, we feel at least that it depicts the manners of the Lombards, just as the magic pen of Walter Scott has reproduced, better than any historian, the early history of Scotland.

CHAPTER III.

DECAY OF ITALIAN CHRONOGRAPHY—THE “LIBER PONTIFICALIS”— THE ACTS OF THE NEAPO­LITAN BISHOPS — AGNELLUS OF RAVENNA- POLEMICAL WRITINGS OF AUXILIUS AND VULGARIUS — THE MONASTERIES AND THE SARACEN INVASIONS — FARFA : THE “CONSTRUCTS” — LIVES OF THE SAINTS OF ST. VINCENT ON THE VOLTURNO — THE “DESTRUCTIO” — MONTECASSINO : CHRONICLE OF ST. BENEDICT — CATALOGUES — TRANSLATIONS OF RELICS— “HISTORIA” OF ERCHEMPERT — CHRONICLE OF SALERNO — ANDREW OF BERGAMO — PANEGYRIC OF BERENGARIUS — STATE OF LAY EDUCATION IN ITALY — POLITICAL CONDITIONS — LIUTPRAND — IMPERIALIST WRITINGS — BENEDICT OF SORACTE — VENETIAN CHRONICLE OF JOHANNES DIACONUS.