THE BEGINNINGS OF THE TEMPORAL SOVEREIGNTY OF THE POPES TO A.D. 754
THE SITUATION IN THE TIME OF KING LIUTPRAND
The unity of Italy was first established by the Romans, who, in the
second century before our era, conquered Cisalpine Gaul, and reached the
barrier of the Alps. This unity really consisted in unfailing submission to the
Romans and to the masters who were appointed by them. Next to the senate and
the magistrates of the Republic came the Italian and provincial emperors, and
then the Gothic kings of Ravenna. These were replaced, in the middle of the
sixth century, by a re-establishment of the imperial rule, under the auspices
of the Emperor of Constantinople. All these revolutions had taken place without
any parcelling out of the land, for although there had been frequent change of
authority, it had always been of the same nature. The last change resembled the
close of a long and disastrous war. Now, however, people were beginning to
forget not only the prosperous reigns of Theodoric and Amalasontus, but even
the miseries of the Gothic war, and congratulated themselves on living
peacefully under the distant though unmistakable rule of the Emperor Justinian.
This happy state of affairs was interrupted in 569 by the Lombard
invasion. At the same time the unity of Italy received a mortal blow, from
which it took many centuries to recover. Not that Alboin wished to harm it, for
he would willingly have supported it could he have done so to his own
advantage. But his people had neither military power, nor unity of purpose
enough, to set themselves against the whole of Italy, nor could they hold the
same position of authority as the Goths had done. Besides, the Byzantine
empire, suffering from the inroads of the Avars in the north, and the
Persians and Arabs in the east, were no longer in a condition to live up to the
high ideals of Justinian. The dilapidated state of its military and financial
power enabled it to offer but a desultory opposition to the attacks of the
German barbarians. Towards the close of the sixth century the Roman defence was
represented by two efforts not tending in the same direction. One—that of a
boundless, unconquerable, but impotent hopefulness—was embodied in the person
of the Exarch Romanus—a lieutenant of the Emperor Maurice. The other, that of
local interests and practical claims, was led by the diplomatic Pope Gregory.
This last effort was the only one which, under the circumstances, had any
chance of success. It resulted in peace, but at the same time, in the loss of
Italian unity, for the imperial rule was divided with the Lombards.
Henceforward there were two Italies — the Lombard and the Byzantine. The
former was subject to the barbarian masters of Northern Tuscany and the Valley of
the Po, and the latter to the Roman Emperor of the East. The Byzantine power in
Italy was steadily declining, and, being driven from the interior, was with
difficulty sustained on the coast of Genoa, the Venetian lagoons, and the
southern peninsulas. The two parties were never at peace for long together, and
the Lombards did not at all agree with the Byzantines, who considered that they
had yielded enough. The Lombard power became more and more firmly established
in the conquered territory, and they finally found themselves in a position to
accomplish issues for which the strength of Alboin and his followers had been
inadequate. On all sides their plans of conquest were renewed, and they were
rapidly gaining control of the coast. As early as the seventh century Rotharis
had annexed the Ligurian sea-coast as well as the remaining imperial territory
at the end of the Adriatic. The duchy of Beneventum was rapidly increasing its
power; it took possession of Salerno, the Lucanian coast and maritime Apulia,
and, following in the wake of the retreating Byzantines, extended its sway as
far as Otranto and Calabria. In the time of St. Gregory it was still possible
to journey from the Venetian islands right down to the Straits of Messina
without leaving imperial ground. But now things were changed. The Lombard power
was making itself felt all along the line of Byzantine possession, attacking
any undefended positions, and breaking up the imperial domain. The possessions
that remained in the far south —Otranto, Gallipoli, and Reggio— looked to Sicily
for help, and, thanks to the friendly sea, the promontories of Sorrento,
Naples, and Gaeta held out with fair success. The island of Rialto, 011 which
Venice was beginning to rise, became the centre of the lagoons of the north.
Rome and Ravenna, though but poorly equipped, were engaged in a painful
struggle in mid-Italy. While Rome, on her side, enjoyed a religious deference
inspired by her sanctuaries, Ravenna's only protecting influence lay in the
majesty of the frail and distant empire. Liutprand, evidently at deadly enmity
with them both, was gaining great successes. Sutri, Narni, Sora, Cumes, Osimo,
Ancona, Bologna, Cesena, and even Ravenna's own port, Classis, all yielded to
the Lombard king, or to the Dukes of Spoleto and Beneventum. Negotiations, and
even strategical manoeuvres were essayed, not always in vain. The Pope tried
the effect of entreaties and offers of money, but in spite of an occasional success
it was obvious that the country surrounding Rome and Ravenna would soon be
completely subjugated, and that finally the cities themselves would be obliged
to yield.
Affairs in Italy were already going badly enough, when the Byzantine
government contrived to quarrel with the Holy See. They disagreed on the fiscal
question, and, what was more important still, on religious matters. Pope
Gregory II, as the defender of the Church's patrimony, thought fit to protest
against certain new impositions. This opposition had an adverse effect upon the
emperor's financial plans, for the Church of Rome owned valuable property in
Sicily, Calabria, and the other Byzantine districts, and the Pope was the
richest contributor in Italy. But the final blow was the quarrel about images,
in which the government interfered with the services of the Church and tried to
impose upon the Pope religious regulations which had not even been submitted to
his approval. Gregory II, in alarm, protested, and all Italy, Romans and Lombards
alike, rallied round him.
He was, however, always a faithful subject of the empire, and though he
organised resistance, he did not for a moment intend it as an act of rebellion.
It must be admitted that the Byzantine officials tried his loyalty severely,
for, from their point of view, it was the Pope, and not the Lombards, against
whom they had to fight. They were under orders to despatch him, and if the
worst came to the worst, they did not mean to stop short of assassination. The
Exarch Paul even sent troops to Rome, which was on the side of the Pope. But
the Lombards came to their assistance, and Paul had to retreat to Ravenna.
There he soon found himself in an unpleasant position, for the Venetian and
Pentapolitan troops refused to obey him, and even threatened to announce the
fall of Leo the Isaurian, to proclaim another emperor, and to lead him to
Constantinople. The Pope, however, managed to calm this undue enthusiasm.
The unfortunate Exarch perished at Ravenna, in a riot, brought about by
the general discontent. Another, Eutychius by name, was sent by the emperor to
take his place. He was the last of the Exarchs. Having been furnished with the
same instructions as his predecessor, he at first adopted the same tactics;
but the resistance which he encountered led him to try to break through the
bond, which religious defence had established between the Pope and the
Lombards. From the Byzantine point of view this alliance was most undesirable.
There was no great harmony between the Lombards of the kingdom and those of the
two duchies of Spoleto and Beneventum. These duchies had, from the first,
enjoyed the privilege of self-government, a privilege which had only
strengthened as time went on. They were, it is true, attached to the Lombard
State, but with ties as loose as those which, on the other side of the Alps,
bound the duchies of Aquitaine, Alamanny, and Bavaria to the Frankish kingdom.
King Liutprand sought every opportunity of making his authority felt in these
detached provinces. He responded to the overtures of the new Exarch, and they
both united in an effort to restore Spoleto and Beneventum to the royal
dominion, and Rome to that of the imperial representative.
This amiable alliance gave general satisfaction, though the result was
hardly what the emperor would have desired. The king entered Spoleto and
received the submission of the two dukes; then, accompanied by the Exarch, he
went on to Rome, or rather to St. Peter's, where they were received by Pope
Gregory. Liutprand was a Christian prince, as well as an experienced
politician, and he and the Pope agreed to sacrifice the aggressive policy of
the emperor against the Holy See. There seems to have been much interchange of
courtesies, and the king overwhelmed St. Peter's with gifts. Then, to show that
they harboured no ill-feeling towards the Emperor of Constantinople, the
Romans, headed by the Exarch, set out under the imperial banner to put down a
rival of Leo the Isaurian, who had seized a favourable opportunity to land in a
corner of Roman Tuscia. This Petasius or Tiberius, as he was called, was killed
at Monterano, and from that time the Exarch of Ravenna ceased his machinations
against the Roman pontiff. The emperor, if not the empire, was practically
ignored, and the administrative power was distributed in such a way as enabled
them to arrange matters among themselves without asking the imperial opinion.
The situation soon became clear. As a result of the iconoclast dispute
the patriarch Germanus of Constantinople (730) was compelled to resign. Gregory
II not only refused to recognise his successor, but severely reprimanded the
prince who was the cause of all these disturbances. The Pope died soon after
(731), but his policy was continued by Gregory III, who came after him. He
even added force to his convictions by sending ambassadors to Constantinople,
but Leo, far from giving way, managed to rid himself of these unwelcome guests
by means of bribery and intimidation. Most often they were stopped on their way
by the cruisers of the Sicilian patrician. The property of the Holy See in
Sicily and in the other Byzantine possessions in the south of Italy was seized,
and the bishops of these districts were despatched to Constantinople. Once
there they could not go to Rome for consecration, and they were regarded as
subject to the authority of the patriarch of the imperial city.
The Exarch's reconciliation with the Pope did not tend to increase his
popularity with his chiefs, and availed but little against the Lombard attacks.
Gregory II had almost succeeded in protecting the Roman territory against his
enterprising neighbours. Liutprand had yielded to his claims upon Lutri, though
Narni was still in the grip of the Duke of Spoleto. Round Ancona and Ravenna
the imperial power was decreasing to such an extent that Ravenna herself
succumbed to the Lombards, and the Exarch Eutychius was obliged to take refuge
at Venice. In compliance with the wishes of Gregory III the
Venetians soon sent him back to Ravenna, and the Exarchate continued for
some years longer.
Just then the tranquillity of the situation was almost upset by a
political indiscretion. The Dukes of Spoleto and Beneventum reasserted
themselves, and assumed an independent attitude towards King Liutprand. Their
neighbours at Rome, who could no longer resist the temptation to take an active
part in Italian affairs, were unfortunately inspired to interfere in the
quarrels which ensued. The king invaded Spoleto, expelled Duke Trasimund, and
installed another in his place. The outraged duke sought refuge at Rome, and
when the Romans refused to give him up to Liutprand, the latter seized upon
Ameria, Orte, Bomarzo, and Blera, four places in the north of the duchy. Being
now at open enmity with the Romans, his followers organised a series of pillaging
expeditions in their domains, pushing their depredations even to the very gates
of Rome.
Their interference seemed likely to cost the Romans dear. Gregory III
in this extremity besought Liutprand to restore the four towns that he had
taken. This request being, not unnaturally, refused, the Pope had recourse to
the extreme measure of imploring help from France. Relays of messengers,
charged with eloquent letters and presents, and bearing the Keys of the
Confession of St. Peter, were despatched to Charles Martel. Special attention
was called by them to the plundering of the Roman territory, which was
exhausting the revenues of St. Peter to such an extent that the illumination of
the apostolic sanctuary had to suffer curtailment. Charles received the Pope's
representatives with due respect, and even sent an embassy in return. The
Romans, however, could expect but little help from this quarter,
for the relations between Charles and Liutprand were too harmonious to
be disturbed. Only a short time before, the young Frankish prince, Pepin (the
future conqueror of Astolphus) had been sent by his father to have his head
shorn by Liutprand, in token of military adoption. In the same year (739), the
Lombard king had, in response to Charles's appeal, united with him against
their common enemies, the Saracens, who were invading Provence. Besides, the
Franks were not ignorant of the state of affairs in Italy, and they realised
that the Romans had themselves to blame, in some measure at least, for the
position in which they found themselves. If they were in difficulties, they
must get out of them as best they could, such was the Frankish opinion.
In time, the Romans succeeded in overcoming the difficulty, but not
without bloodshed. With unwonted and commendable energy, they undertook to
subjugate the duchy of Spoleto, not for themselves, but for their confederate,
Trasimund. One division of the army fell upon Abruzzo, while the other devoted
its attention to the despoiling of Rieti and Spoleto. An entry was easily
secured, and Trasimund, after giving orders that Duke Frederic, Liutprand's
protege, should have his throat cut, established himself in his place. This was
in December 740.
After this, it seemed that the least he could do was to show his
gratitude to the Romans by helping them to regain the places they had lost in
supporting his cause. There were, however, difficulties in the way. Trasimund
saw that he would have his work cut out to maintain authority in his duchy, and
apparently he did not feel equal to engaging in operations so
far from home. Liutprand, meanwhile, was leisurely preparing to bear
down upon his refractory vassal of Spoleto, his ally, the Duke of Beneventum,
and their good friends of Rome. The year 741 was passed in expectation. The
Romans in vain demanded their towns from the helpless Trasimund. In the midst
of all this, in the month of December, the Pope died, just a year after the
triumphal entry into Spoleto. The same year also witnessed the passing of the
two great Princes of the East and West, Leo the Isaurian (June 18), and Charles
of France (October 22).
The Romans were in sore need of a man of wisdom who would guide them
with his counsel. Pope Zachary, who was immediately elected, had no difficulty
in explaining to them their situation and prospects. Liutprand and his army
were about to descend upon them, secure that no opposition was to be feared on
that side of the Alps. Had not Spoleto and Beneventum already twice succumbed
to the king of the Lombards, and was it probable that the Roman forces, though
not to be despised, could hold out against him? There seemed every chance that
they would be defeated, and it was hardly likely under the circumstances that
the king would yield to the Pope's petitions that Rome should be spared. Their
best course would be to forsake their faithless ally, Trasimund, and enlist
themselves on the stronger side. They might then have occasion to render the
king some service, which would redound to their advantage.
So it was arranged. The king, being approached by the Pope, promised not
to molest the duchy of Rome, and further, to restore to them their lost towns.
As soon as he drew near to Spoleto the Roman army advanced to his
assistance. Trasimund made an unconditional surrender, and the Pope, fearing
that the king's promises might be as easily broken as those of the Duke of
Spoleto, sallied forth to remind him of them, and at the same time to come to
an understanding with him on other matters, ecclesiastical as well as
political. The interview, which took place at Terni, was most satisfactory. The
king agreed to keep peace with the duchy of Rome for twenty years, and restored
not only the four towns, but also the imperial prisoners and the estates of the
Holy See which had been annexed in the foregoing years.
The Romans were not alone in experiencing the truth of the saying that
persuasion is often more effective than force. The following year Liutprand,
not content with Bologna and Imola, seized upon the town of Cesena and even
upon part of the land belonging to Ravenna. In response to the terrified appeal
of the Ravennese, Pope Zachary hastened to their help, leaving the government
of Rome to Stephen, patrician and duke. On 29th June, 743, he interviewed Liutprand
at Pavia, and once more the Lombard king yielded to the peaceful tactics of the
Pope, and Ravenna, for the time being, remained under the Byzantine sway.
At the beginning of the next year, 744, the long and glorious reign of
Liutprand came to an end. Impertinently enough, Zachary's biographer
attributes his death to the prayers of the Pope, who had had so much reason to
be grateful to him. We must, however, for Zachary's honour, look upon this as
the slander of an unprincipled eulogist. Be this as it may, the new king,
Ratchis, at first appeared as well disposed as his predecessor. Like him, he
granted the Pope's request for a twenty years' peace. But this was only to
affect the duchy of Rome, and the Lombard king soon resumed the war against the
emperor, in the neighbourhood of Pentapolis and Perugia. He was besieging the
latter when he was surprised by the Pope. Once more was the king obliged to
yield to his irresistible eloquence, and deliver up the prey that he had
already grasped. Indeed, Zachary's blandishments were so effectual that
Ratchis not only abandoned the siege of Perugia but he actually abdicated the
Lombard throne (749) and entered upon a religious career. He, with his whole
family, withdrew to St. Peter's at Rome, and finally settled at Monte Cassino.
Zachary's ambition had overleapt itself. He might have been thankful at
having to deal with such kings as Liutprand and Ratchis, instead of rejoicing
at their deaths or driving them into convents. The new king, Astolphus, proved
himself less amenable to the Pope's influence, and matters began immediately to
assume a threatening aspect. He began by settling the affairs of Ravenna and
Pentapolis, and at Zachary's death, in March 752, the imperial rule was
definitely abolished in those regions. In fact, to the north of the Apennines,
the lagoons of Venice alone acknowledged the dominion of the Byzantine emperor.
THE DUCHY OF ROME
St. Gregory the Great was, in modern parlance, an excellent patriot, in
spite of the fact that he was the chief representative of the submissive
policy which assented to the division of Italy between the Lombards and the
empire. In theory his sorrow was as keen as the hopes of the Exarch Romanus,
but in practice he was as much interested as anybody in the safety and
prosperity of the empire. Fortunately for the imperial progress, his
successors were animated with the same spirit. The Pope, indeed, was a mighty
moral power which, had the boundary line between the spiritual and the temporal
sphere been less jealously defined, would probably have become a powerful
political factor. Over the frontiers he held communication with other races—
the Franks, the Visigoths, the Anglo-Saxons, the Bavarians, and, in particular,
with the Lombards, who heard him the more willingly as their converts increased
in number. He held quite an exceptional situation in the interior of Byzantine
Italy. It is a mere theological quibble to speak of the Bishop of Rome at any
time as of an ordinary bishop. It is an historical quibble, in connection with
a Pope of the
sixth, seventh, or eighth century, to lay stress on his subordinate
relation to the Emperor of Constantinople. Undoubtedly, from a theoretical
point of view, he was a subject, for the emperor was supreme ruler of the
empire. But in reality the Pope was elected by the Romans at Rome, and his
appointment received the imperial sanction, merely as a matter of form. He was
in this way distinguished from the highest dignitaries, particularly from the
Exarch. His authority was independent of the emperor, and though his renown
shone forth both within and without the empire, it was certainly with no
reflection of Byzantine glory. Indeed he really owed his prestige and position
to the influence of St. Peter. The succession of St. Peter, the See of St.
Peter, the authority of St. Peter, the tomb of St. Peter — all these counted
for much in the atmosphere of respect and admiration which surrounded the
apostolic representative.
The Papal influence was by no means confined to the Church. The Pope's
experience, his moral authority, his sound financial position, and his powers
of administration were a valuable help in the conduct of temporal affairs. We
see him concerning himself, apparently in no meddlesome spirit, with war
operations, the arrangement of treaties, the appointment of officials, the
management of the State exchequer, as well as with municipal enterprises, such
as the repairing of ramparts and aqueducts and schemes for the public food
supply.
But, in spite of the solicitude for the general welfare, the Pope's
influence was more particularly concentrated on his own immediate surroundings—
above all on Rome. He certainly busied himself in both the political and
military affairs of Ravenna and
Naples, but it was the needs, temporal though they might be, of his
spiritual flock which specially claimed his attention and sympathy. As might
have been expected, the result of this condition of affairs was the creation
around the apostolic sanctuary of a kind of holy ground, whose limits spread
beyond the city, even to the boundary line of the duchy of Rome.
The extent of the duchy, which was the province of the duke and other
military authorities who resided at Rome, had been defined by the limits of the
Lombard invasion. In Liutprand's day it included, between the Tiber and the
coast, part of ancient Tuscia, called Roman Tuscia, to distinguish it from
Lombard Tuscia, now Tuscany. The most northerly places on this side were
Centumcellae (Civita Vecchia) on the sea, and Orte on the Tiber, and, between
the two, Blera (Bieda), Sutri, and Bomarzo. On the other side of the Tiber, not
very far from Orte, on the line between Perugia and Rome, was the town of
Amelia, which was under Roman jurisdiction. Except for this one place, the left
bank of the Tiber, as far as the outskirts of Monte Rotondo, belonged to the
duchy of Spoleto. The first Roman towns were Nomentum and Tilsur; then the
frontier line followed the mountains behind Prenesto, Anagni, Alatri, and
Veroli as far as the Liris, where it turned off to Terracina.
This ducatus Romanus had originally been merely a military province,
like the duchies of Naples or Venetia. The duke was subject to the Exarch, and
the eocerdtus Romanus was a division of the Byzantine army commanded by the
vice-emperor of Ravenna. But these relations did not last very long. There
arose divisions, induced by the peculiar configuration of Byzantine Italy, the
difficulties in the way of communication, and the differences of outlook
fostered by such conditions. Matters were worse still when, about the year 727,
in virtue of their resistance to the iconoclastic fiats of Leo the Isaurian,
the commissioned officials were banished to Constantinople, and native dukes
elected in their places. Henceforth each duchy was practically independent,
though there was a kind of federation among them. This state of affairs was all
the more unavoidable as the superior authority, the Exarch, had apparently
freed himself from the imperial power, and was disporting himself, like an
ordinary duke, in the province of Ravenna, which was visibly disappearing as
the Lombard conquests increased.
Under these circumstances it is far from surprising that Rome should
embark on a political career of her own. We see her concluding alliances,
declaring war, and signing treaties. She it is and not the Exarch with whom
Trasimund, Duke of Spoleto, negotiates at different times, and with whom King
Liutprand arranges the Peace of Terni in 742. Ravenna is treated in quite a
different manner. Without so much as asking permission the prince seizes upon
her lands, towns, and even her capital. On the other hand, if he feels inclined
to annex parts
of the duchy of Rome, Sutri, Blera, Bomarzo, Orte, or Amelia, he
restores them without much difficulty. This was, undoubtedly, an idiosyncrasy,
for the Duke of Spoleto, who in his reign took possession of both Narni and
Sabina, was by no means so easily prevailed upon to part with them. Still
ther? is no doubt that Rome was treated very differently from Ravenna. The real
reason for this favouritism was that Rome was under the protection of St. Peter
and his vicar, and not that the Lombard king considered that they had any
special claim upon his good will. Owing to the repeated solicitations of the
Pope, who spared neither pains nor money in the cause, Sutri was restored,
after an occupation of several months. The king intended it as a gift to the
Apostles Peter and Paul. Gallesa, on which the Duke of Spoleto had long
cast a covetous eye, was finally included again. But this
was really due to a money arrangement entered into by Pope Gregory III. It
was Pope Zachary with whom Liutprand, on two different occasions, both
directly $nd indirectly, settled the question of restoring the four towns by
official charter. There is no mention of any military representatives
accompanying the Pope to Terni. He and his clergy were alone, and, under these
circumstances, a twenty years' truce was concluded with the duchy of Rome.
Again, it was with Pope Stephen I. that Astolphus negotiated, before making
war on the Romans.
In keeping with all this is the form by which the inhabitants of the
duchy of Rome were introduced to the foreign princes, whose aid was sought.
They were called the "peculiar people of St. Peter
and the Church." Apart from any rhetorical exaggeration, this expression
seems to be typical of the relations between the Pope and his people. There was
a very strong feeling among the Romans that they must look for help and sympathy
in the approaching crisis to the Pope and St. Peter rather than to the distant
empire of Constantinople.
Peaceable relations with the latter were now resumed. Following upon the
iconoclastic quarrel, there had been a series of disagreements, one counterbalancing
the other, the final effect of which had been to produce a kind of equilibrium.
True, the emperor's decision had been opposed, his representatives banished,
and his authority reduced to a mere name. But to have no relations at all with
the Romans was surely better than to have disagreeable ories. The emperor had
been obliged to relinquish thf; Pope's help in his plans for religious reform,
but, on che other hand, the imperial treasury had been considerably augmented
by the confiscation of the papal patrimonies in Sicily. The union, in brief,
was not dissolved, but there was no longer any intimacy between the parties.
The result made for peace.
There was even an exchange of amities. Pope Zachary sent envoys with
letters to his contemporary, Constantine V, with intent as much personal as
ecclesiastical. These letters, unlike the despatches of Gregory III, arrived
safely, but the messengers, on reaching Constantinople, found a revolution in
full swing. This was brought about by the claims of one Artavasde to the
imperial throne. Constantine, the legal heir of Leo the Iconoclast, was himself
an iconoclast, while his rival held orthodox views. There ensued a sharp and
exciting struggle, in which Constantine hastened to besiege Artavasde in his
capital, and finally succeeded in gaining the upper hand, 2nd November 744. The
envoys were treading on delicate ground, but as soon as Constantine was reinstated
at Constantinople they appeared before him and were graciously received. He
acceded to the Pope's request that, to make up for the loss of his Sicilian
estates, he should be granted at least the two domains of Norma and Nimfa, in
the neighbourhood of Rome. The envoys, after this satisfactory interview,
returned home with a substantial present.
The effect of the iconoclastic struggle upon Italian affairs has been
greatly exaggerated. Certainly there were at first a few critical years to be
passed through, but, as the imperial power in the north and centre of Italy was
practically extinct, its interference in religious affairs waps no longer to be
dreaded. The necessary declarations had been made by the Popes Gregory II and
Gregory III, and constant reiteration would have been futile. It was no
longer an Italian but an ecastern question. The Holy See was particularly
involved, not only because all religious matters, however distant, were her
peculiar province, but also because the forfeiture
of her Sicilian patrimonies and the dividing up of her ecclesiastical
department which ensued affected her very deeply. Again, as was shown by the
gift of Norma and Nimfa, certain mitigations might be hoped for. After the
embittered attitude of the first few years, a new phase of a more or less
diplomatic nature had been entered upon.
The Roman duchy, in brief, was about to become a self-governing state,
nominally subject to the Greek empire, but really attached to it by very loose
bonds. Venice and Naples were in the same position. In both places a local
autonomy was being organised on the strength of their strong maritime
positions. Naples could also rely upon efficient support from the Patrician of
Sicily. That island was being organised under a military government, presided
over by the local duke.
These Uhree autonomies contrived to exist for many a long year. That of
Naples received its death-blow at the hands of the Norman King Roger in 1139.
The other two were much longer lived. As late as 1797 they were attacked by
Buonaparte, and again in 1870 by General Cadorna. Indeed, these officers might
almost be said to have fired on the Roman empire.
Let us now turn our attention to the duchy of Rome, to its situation at
the death of Zachary (752), and to the series of events which, while delivering
it out of the hands of the Lombards, yet indirectly strengthened the
opposition of the other two.
THE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE POPE AND THE FRANKISH INTERVENTION
Astolphus, who succeeded Ratchis in 749, did not long leave Ravenna in
peace. The exact date of his seizure of the town is not known, but there is no
doubt that the Exarchate came to a miserable end, so miserable, indeed, that we
have no record of its last moments. All that we know is that, from the month
of July 751, the Lombard king was established in the Exarchal palace, and that
thenceforward his sway extended over the whole of the ancient imperial
territory between the Po, the Adriatic, and the Apennines. Even Gubbio, the
other side of the mountains, had succumbed to him, but Perugia, Todi, Amelia,
and the duchy of Rome were not yet captured. Astolphus was meditating a
descent on the latter, when the newly elected Pope Stephen, despatched
ambassadors, who succeeded in bringing about a peace which was to last for
forty years. They were Ambrose, the chief (primiceriusi) of the notaries,
and the Pope's own brother, Paul. These negotiations took place in June 752,
but, by the following autumn, the treaty was violated. The Pope's biographer
does not enlarge upon the fact, and the
Lombard king's reasons for perjuring himself are not given.
Hostilities, however, were not renewed, and Astolphus seems to have
contented himself with levying a poll tax of a gold sou on the inhabitants of
Rome. He further proposed, greatly to the consternation of the Romans, to
extend his jurisdiction over Rome and its dependencies, thus creating a sort of
protectorate. The Pope, not thinking it discreet to send any of his own ambassadors
to the king a second time, despatched two Lombard subjects, the abbots of Monte
Cassino and St. Vincent of Vulturno. These could, of course, represent things
from a religious point of view only. They had no effect on Astolphus, who sent
them back to their convents, with orders not to return to Rome.
The situation was becoming serious. The Romans and the Pope, preoccupied
with the dangers which threatened them at home, naturally did not give much
thought to the late Exarchy. At Constantinople, on the other hand, they could
not realise the changes that were taking place in Italy, and innocently
imagined that a little diplomacy was all that was required in order to insure
the return of the annexed provinces. An important dignitary, John the
Silentiary, was sent to Rome with one imperial letter for the King of the
Lombards; and another to the Pope, invoking his good offices. Stephen,
therefore, deputed his brother Paul to support the Silentiary at his
interview with Astolphus. The king was then at Ravenna, and, though his reply
was somewhat vague, he gave orders that a Lombard ambassador should accompany
John back to the emperor. On his way through Rome, the Byzantine envoy
acquainted the Pope with the non-success
of his errand, and the latter entrusted him with letters explaining the
position of affairs once more, and urging the emperor to take definite steps in
the matter.
With the approach of winter, the outlook became still more gloomy. The
most alarming rumours sprang up and grew apace. Astolphus, it was said, meant
to have all the Romans beheaded. The protection of religion was sought. The
most sacred mysteries were carried in procession, in particular the great
acherophite picture of the Saviour, which is still preserved in the Lateran.
The Pope was prolific in prayers, litanies, and exhortations, and a copy of the
treaty, broken by the terrible Lombard king, was fastened to the stational
cross.
So far, however, Astolphus had confined himself to threats. The only
noteworthy event of the war seems to have been the seizure of the Castle of
Ceccano, part of the ecclesiastical patrimony. This castle was situated close
to the southern frontier, on the side of the duchy of Beneventum, and was a
somewhat important centre of agricultural operations. Astolphus was, at this
time, awaiting the return of his ambassador from Constantinople, and the
seizure of Ceccano was probably due less to his efforts than to those of the
duke.
What was to be the result of these negotiations, and what could be
expected from the Pope's representations to the emperor of the need for his
intervention? Constantine had so much to do at home, that he could not
effectually enter into the affairs of these distant provinces. He would
probably advise them to get out of their difficulties as best they could. It
would not be the first time that this attitude had been adopted towards the
Romans. From
the beginning of the Lombard war the Emperor Tiberius II had maintained
it.
If the goodwill of the Lombard king could not be counted on, the only
solution of the problem was either to resign themselves to the annexation, or
to prevent it by calling in the help of the Franks.
There was, apparently, no
insuperable religious objection to the
annexation. There is certainly no sign of it, either in the
papal
correspondence, or in the other documents of the time. We must
not be misled by
the frequent evangelical allusions to the "lost sheep" which
the Pope, like a good shepherd, wishes to wrest from the wolf,
or, in other words, the Lombard king. The sheepfold in
question was a
political, rather than a religious one, and there was nothing
to fear for the
sheep from an ecclesiastical point of view. The Pope had often
to deplore the
Lombard depredations in the Roman territory, but these were
merely the
accidents of war, or psychological means, similar to the
bombardments of
modern times. The Lombards, to defend themselves against the
Romans, or to
effect their surrender, laid waste the country by fire. They
followed the
universal custom and plundered, in order to live, and also to
gain some
advantage from the war. In more than one case the havoc made
among church
property savoured of sacrilege, but, at that time, warriors
with any respect
for ecclesiastical belongings were few and far between. The
followers of Astolphus are accused of having stolen some sacred corpses
from the Catacombs, in
order to cherish them in their monasteries. The theft of
relics in the eighth century and since, has been all over
Christendom, a very common and readily condoned sin.
These unpleasant occurrences were, however, all
connected with the conditions of war. The ordinary relations between the
Lombards and their Roman neighbours were by this time again of a tolerably
friendly nature. The Aryan and pagan element brought into Italy by the Conquest
had long been absorbed. The Lombards were all Catholics, and had recently
proved their faith by helping to defend Pope Gregory II against the
proceedings of the Exarchs. Their princes, Liutprand, Ratchis, Aistulf, and
Didier, far from being infidels, were men of piety, with a taste for founding
monasteries and supporting churches, and full of the deepest respect for the
sanctuaries of Rome and the apostolic See. The Romans, indeed, would not have
lost much, in passing from the Byzantine to the Lombard rule. Even as part of
the Lombard kingdom, Rome would have remained a holy city and a living link
with the rest of Christendom. She would still have been the resort of pilgrims,
and the Pope could have continued his somewhat restricted interest in the
religious affairs of both the East and the West. Astolphus had his traditional
capital at Pavia, and he had just conquered Ravenna, the capital of the Exarchs
and of the Gothic kings. It was, therefore, improbable that the seat of
government would have been moved to Rome. From the conditions which the
Lombards wished to impose upon the Romans, we gather that the latter would in
some measure have retained the power of self-government, under the protection
of their pontiff, and that it would have been a case of ordinary annexation.
The stumbling-block in the way was that the Romans in general, and the
Pope in particular, did not wish to be Lombard subjects. They considered as
derogatory any alliance with a people whom they regarded as barbarians, and who
were personally distasteful to them. All kinds of rumours concerning the
Lombard inferiority obtained credence. It was said that leprosy flourished
among them, that they were malodorous, and so on. Their laws, as well as their
manners and customs, were uncongenial to the Romans; the Lombard law was
strongly imbued with German tradition, while the Roman law had been religiously
preserved from the tables of stone up to the time of Justinian. Then again, the
Lombards and the Romans had quite a different way of dressing, and of wearing
their hair and beards. Any change of nationality, such as was bound to
accompany an annexation of this kind, would immediately be followed by a
modification of these habits. In those days the barber followed closely in the
wake of the conqueror and the diplomat.
These are but trifles, we say. Truly, but one might go far to seek the
Englishman who would not object to wear the pigtail and flowing garb of the
Chinese, or the Chinaman who would willingly adopt our national habits. Apart,
too, from these material considerations, there was a certain subtle and sacred
prestige attached to the mere fact of being a Roman. It was no mean thing, they
thought, to be a member of the Holy Republic, and the subject of a man who was,
after all, the heir of Augustus and Constantine.
This question of escape from the Lombards was, therefore, a vital one
for the Romans of the eighth century. The Pope and the clergy were at one with
their compatriots in this matter, fortunately for the maintenance of the
ecclesiastical influence. They espoused the cause of the autonomy without any
coercion, but from no particular religious feeling in the matter.
The main point, however, was, not that the autonomy should be
established under the protection of any outside monarch, but that its interior
organisation should be under the supervision of none other than the Pope
himself. Although at Naples and Venice the bishop was of some political
importance, it was the Byzantine duke who was governor of the little republic.
At Rome, too, they had a duke whose title corresponded precisely with that of
his Venetian and Neapolitan colleagues. Like them he was, at one and the same
time, civil chief and military governor; it was upon him that depended the
whole administration and the whole staff of the Judices. The whole military
body—the exercitus Romanus, as it was called—including the aristocratic
cavalry, the urban foot soldiers, and the garrisons with their tribunes—all
these were under his command. He was undoubtedly a most important personage. But
besides the felicissimus exercitus, the venerabilis clerus was no
inconsiderable figure. He, too, had his district organisation, his aristocracy,
his proceres Ecclesiae, his deacons, his cardinal priests, his chefs de
service, and his suburban bishops. This hierarchy culminated in the apostolic
Lord, the Vicar of St. Peter, the High Priest of the Roman sanctuaries, the
Primate of the bishops of the whole world, and doctor of the Church
Universal, i.e. a dignitary who, even apart from his religious importance,
exercised over Italy a moral and political influence beyond compare. For the
Pope to have been subject to the duke as the Venetian Patriarch was subject
to the Doge would have been an incongruous and untenable position.
As a matter of fact, even at the first, affairs apparently showed not
the slightest tendency towards this attitude. True, the Holy See had come into
collision with the Emperor of Constantinople, during the monothelite crisis;
again, at the time of the Council in Trullo, and also at the beginning of the
iconoclastic struggle. These were, however, but passing attempts at tyranny,
and not the result of regularly organised institutions. In ordinary practice,
the Papal authority certainly tended in the direction of sovereignty, as may be
seen from the documentary evidence concerning Gregory II, Gregory III, and
Zachary. We have already seen the latter in his outside transactions, on behalf
of the duchy of Rome. A strong light is shed upon his position at home through
a significant remark made by his biographer in speaking of his journey to
Ravenna and Pavia. He set out, it is said, "leaving the government of Rome
to Stephen, patrician and duke." The duke is governor, during the absence
of the Pope! It is not thus that one could have spoken of either the Doge of
Venice or the Duke of Naples.
The natural and traditional trend of affairs pointed, then, towards the
solution required by the pontifical dignity; and, it may be added, this
solution was the only acceptable and imaginable one for the Frankish princes,
with whom explanations were to ensue.
It was not the first occasion upon which the Romans had thought of
invoking the help of the Franks. At the instigation of the emperor and the
Exarch, the Austrasian Franks had made several descents on Italy, during the
reign of King Autharis. Pope Pelagius II was careful to
explain to King Gontran that, as the Franks were Catholics like the
Romans, they ought to look upon the Lombards as their common enemy, instead of
entering into an alliance with them. St. Gregory, in his correspondence with
the heirs of Gontran and Childebert, refrains from this attitude. Besides, in
his day, the empire had left off inciting fresh Frankish incursions into Italy,
having found them expensive and unprofitable. There was still stronger reason
for discouraging them in the eighth century, when Liutprand's victories were
threatening the safety of Ravenna and the Exarchy. Charles Martel and Pepin
were, on the whole, fairly well disposed towards the Lombard king, and recked
little of his disputes with the Greeks. This political archaeology affected
them not at all.
But the interests of the Roman ex-empire and of the apostolic sanctuary
were quite another matter. This was obvious to everybody in France and in Rome.
As Christian princes, the Frankish monarchs felt bound to listen to the common
Father of the Faithful, and to support him in time of need. To neglect what
appeared to them a pressing necessity would be to incur serious personal risks.
St. Peter is the chief of the apostles, and he is also the doorkeeper of
Heaven. Present-day politicians are not greatly affected by this fact, but it
was weighty enough to give food for reflection to a Carolingian prince, and
even to influence his politics.
We get an excellent idea of this state of mind from the History written
by the Venerable Bede, a renowned writer of that period.
The English King Oswy (664) had been summoned to arbitrate in a great
religious discussion,
which affected the organisation and general progress of his people. The
subject of dispute was the Easter offertory. The Irish party, on the one hand,
laid stress on the patronage of their great Saint, Columba, while the Romans
pinned their faith on the Apostle Peter. They had gone as far as quoting the
celebrated Gospel passage: "Thou art Peter ... I will give unto thee the keys
of the kingdom of heaven," when the king stopped the discussion, and asked
the Irish if they admitted that these words had been addressed to St. Peter. On
their replying in the affirmative, he remarked, "Well, then, he is a
doorkeeper with whom I should not like to have dealings; for on my arrival at
the portals of heaven, if I happened to be in bad odour with the keeper of the keys,
he would very likely shut the doors upon me!"
Bede was only half English, and we may perhaps allow something for his
somewhat humorous way of looking at things. The Pope's letters to Charles
Martel and Pepin, though written in a different style, breathe the same spirit:
"Let us work for St. Peter, and then we shall prosper in this world, as
well as the next."
It was not to be supposed that the Franks would risk a quarrel with the
Lombards, with the object of procuring for the Romans the pleasure of remaining
under Byzantine rule, and of enabling the military staff of the Palatine to
enjoy this advantage in peace. The conditions of the Frankish intervention
would obviously be as follows: The Lombards should leave the Roman territory
alone; the Romans should be under the protection of the Franks, instead of
under the now enfeebled imperial power; in dealing with the Greek monarch,
everything inconsistent with the
new relations should be suppressed; and, finally, the Pope should be
supreme at Rome and in the duchy.
But "there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip", and what
Gregory III had proposed, Charles Martel had refused. It is true that the
danger was not as imminent as the Pope imagined, and the Frankish prince had
good reasons for not interfering. Nevertheless, the pontiff's proposal had
created a great sensation, and the chronicler who succeeded Fredegarius and
wrote under the direction of Childebrand, brother of Charles Martel, speaks of
it with visible pride and pomp. This is all the more striking because, like his
patrons, he usually displayed but a mild interest in the affairs of the Church.
Though Pope Zachary was constantly brought into contact with Pepin and
Carloman, either personally or through the medium of St. Boniface, it was
always in connection with ecclesiastical affairs in France, the mission to
Germany, and internal reform. There had never been any question of the Lombards
and their quarrels with the Romans. The Pope was quite capable of managing
Italian affairs, without any help from the Franks. Indeed, it was the Franks
who required his advice and assistance in their political affairs; and not
until the papal sanction was obtained did they take the important step of
substituting the family of Austrasian parvenus for the ancient royal race.
From this fact we see the majesty of the position held by the Roman
pontiff in relation to the Franks. As far as the new dynasty was particularly
concerned, it was a service of no importance. It was still quite recent when
the turn of events compelled Pope Stephen II to avail himself of it.
STEPHEN II
The Pope had not been idle during the winter of 752-753. After a long
period of consideration, the time for action had arrived, and Stephen began
negotiations with the Frankish king. Everything was carried on with the
greatest secrecy, a peasant acting as the medium of communication between the
two parties. The first letters have been lost, but from the account in the Liber Pontificalis we gather that it was purely a question of the Roman
province and its escape from the Lombard yoke. Pepin appeared well-disposed,
and despatched without delay, one after the other, two confidential
messengers—Oroctigang, Abbot of Jumièges, and another of his intimates.
They soon returned to
France with a verbal message, requesting Pepin to send a reliable escort
through the Lombard kingdom for the Pope, who was anxious to come to France.
Two letters, conveyed by the Abbot of Jumieges, were inserted in the Codex
Carolinus; they are couched in very general terms, and merely call upon the
Frankish leaders to aid in furthering the interests of the Apostle Peter.
Pepin, rising to the occasion, sent off two august persons— Chrodegang,
Bishop of Metz, and Duke Autchaire, the Oger of legendary fame. On their
arrival at Rome, they found Stephen quite ready to set out. The Lombard
ambassador and the Silentiary John had returned from Constantinople, with
orders for a personal interview between the Pope and Astolphus, to arrange
about the restoration of Ravenna. Stephen had already obtained a permit for a
journey to Pavia, so his way was clear before him. There was a public
leave-taking at St. Peter's attended by many of the neighbouring citizens, as
well as by the Pope's own people. The whole caravan set out together on 14th
October 753. The papal retinue included representatives of the military
aristocracy, ex militiae optimatibus, a certain number of clerks of high
degree, the two Frankish envoys, and the imperial legate.
Autchaire, going on in front, was the first to arrive at Pavia.
Astolphus, when he heard of the Pope's approach, sent to meet him, begging that
he would refrain from any allusion to the Exarchy and the other imperial
possessions (reipublicce loca) which he or his predecessors had conquered. The
Pope, emboldened by the presence of the Frankish envoys, declared that he
would not comply with this request. The Lombard king was beset on all sides;
the Pope,
aided by tears and presents, addressed him on the subject. The imperial
legate and the emperor himself (by means of his letters) also said their say.
All in vain was Astolphus warmly exhorted to give back the Lord's sheep
which he had carried off, and the estates, to their owners. He remained
obdurate, and would concede nothing.
In this affair Stephen II was acting in the interests of the empire
and as a subject of the emperor, under whose commands he had gone to Pavia.
But, however great may have been his zeal for the Exarchy, there can be no
doubt that his keenest sympathies were centred in the duchy of Rome. This fact
is beyond question, although his biographer abstains from mentioning it. At
Pavia the Pope was playing two roles. The one, which was perfunctory and
lacking in confidence, was that of the imperial representative, demanding the
restitution of Ravenna. The other, whole-hearted and sanguine, was that of the
Roman pontiff, whose desire was to secure the independence of his
fellow-citizens with regard to the Lombards, and his own independence with
regard to his fellow-citizens.
Having thus disposed of the question of Ravenna, the Pope, without more
ado, begged permission to enter France. Astolphus did his best to deter him,
but was overcome by the united representations of the pontiff and the Frankish
ambassadors.
Stephen's presence in France did not require the presence of the lay
aristocracy, still less of a Byzantine diplomat. The latter, therefore,
returned to Rome under the escort of the optimates militias, the clerks alone
remained with the Pope. They started forth on 15th November, and soon arrived
at the entrance to the Aosta valley (Francorum clusas); they were then
on Frankish ground, and the Pope, beginning to breathe more freely, offered up
thanks to God. Their journey was nearly ended, for the king had promised to
meet them at the Abbey of St. Maurice, just on the other side of the St.
Bernard pass. Their hearts were filled with a great joy, for they were
conscious of the fulfilment of a grand task—the salvation of Rome: in Roma
salvanda petebant regno Francorum,x says the crude epitaph of Dean Ambrose, one
of the party. He died at St. Maurice, the toils of the journey, which, for him,
was not the first, having proved too much for him.
When they arrived at the abbey they found that Pepin had not come to
meet them, but had sent in his stead two ambassadors, Duke Rotard, and Fulrad,
Abbot of St. Denis, who were to conduct the party to the royal palace of
Ponthion. Near Langres, about a hundred miles from the palace, they encountered
one of the king's sons—Charles, the future Charlemagne. Within three miles of
the royal residence, on the Feast of the Epiphany, appeared Pepin himself,
together with his family. He greeted the Pope with much ceremony, getting off
his horse and prostrating himself on the ground. Then, taking hold of the
stirrup, he walked for some time by the side of the pontiff's horse. This is
the oldest example of that officium stratoris which later on became compulsion,
and thus gave rise to severe quarrels. To the accompaniment of psalms and
chanting the procession continued its way, and at last reached the palace of
Ponthion. At the first official interview, which took place in the palace
oratory, the Pope with tears besought the king to intervene "peacefully in order to arrange the affairs of St. Peter
and the Roman Republic". The king promised to satisfy the Pope, and in due season to procure
the restoration of the Exarchy and the rights or possessions of the republic.
So far we have followed the account of the Liber Pontificalis. But the
French chroniclers are also well worth consulting. From the Moissac chronicle
we learn that the Pope's entreaties were environed with a good deal of pomp and
circumstance. The pontiff and his clerks, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, cast
themselves on the ground, imploring the mercy of God, and calling to witness
the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul. Nor could they be prevailed upon to rise
until Pepin, his sons and his nobles, had extended their hands in token of
cooperation and deliverance.
From the biographer we get a different impression, but it is probable
that his statements are not altogether reliable. He passes lightly over these
doleful formalities, calling attention to the prostrations of the king rather
than to those of the Pope. In his anxiety to give prominence to Ravenna, it is
to be feared that he takes a somewhat distorted view of Stephen's claims. Probability
and the quasi-official chronicler of Moissac alike incline us to believe that
it was Rome, and not Ravenna, which was the leading theme of this interview.
It is, however, not to be denied that, in his conference with the
Frankish king, Stephen either claimed or accepted what is called the "restitution"
of Ravenna, together with the Exarchy, Pentapolis, and other territories
conquered by Astolphus. This "restitution" was, in fact, brought
about, or at least agreed upon, after Pepin's first Italian campaign. But they
did not restore propria propriis, for neither the duchy of Rome nor the Roman
Church had the slightest claim to be regarded as holding any
right of
sovereignty over these provinces. The Emperor Constantine
alone could claim
this right, and he alone could be made the "subject" of a
"restitution" in the strict sense of the term. Stephen's biographer
treats
the matter in a way which reveals his anxiety to gloss over
anything at all
questionable in the manner of the Pope's succession to the
emperor. This
attitude was also maintained among the pontifical officials.
From our own point of view, as well as from that of the Franks, the
right was unquestionable, being founded upon the basis of conquest. Astolphus
had conquered the imperial provinces, and they belonged to him in the same way
as Liguria, Friuli, and the duchies of Spoleto and Beneventum. But Pepin had
conquered Astolphus, and could impose upon him what conditions he chose, one of
these conditions being the. surrender of the provinces in question. They were
thus the legitimate property of the Frankish king, who presented them to the
Pope, or rather to St. Peter, for this patron saint was considered capable of
owning and governing them by means of his Church and his successors.
All this is obvious enough. If the Roman chroniclers have given us
confused accounts of the affair, it is for two reasons. To begin with, they
found it hard to divest themselves of the notion that any part of Italy which
did not belong to the
Lombards must somehow or other be the property of the Romans. Their
expression "respublica" is a most unsuitable one, for it ought
to be applied only to a definite state, governed directly by the Roman emperor.
As a matter of fact, it is applied to the various conditions of the Roman
nationality, whatever their link with the imperial power. In the pontifical
world, on the other hand, there was a strong and pardonable objection to admit
any responsibility for a disloyalty to the empire, exacted by circumstances;
for Rome apart from the Roman empire; Rome ceasing to be Rome; this was
indeed a political profanation. And yet there seemed no way of escape. Now, if
ever, was the time to call upon the resources of literary style to deaden the
compunction awakened in the national conscience by this violation of all loyal
tradition.
The idea of St. Peter as sovereign of the Exarchy naturally presupposes
that he was sovereign of Rome; for he who rules over the affairs of others may,
not unreasonably, be expected to rule over his own as well. As far as the
Carlovingian princes were concerned, at least, the papal dominion over Rome
seems to have been accepted as an incontrovertible fact. At any rate they never
sought to interfere (in early times at least) either with his position at
home or with his relations with Constantinople. They seem to have
contented themselves with promising him their protection and assuring him of
their good will in the most general terms, relying in return on his friendship,
and leaving him to do the best he could for the papal prosperity. To assert
that Pepin recognised the duchy of Rome as an independent state is rash, for we
have no proof, not even an indirect one, that such was the case. Pepin always
kept on good terms with the empire, and although he and his sons were honoured
by the Pope with the title of "patricins Romanorum" he never made use of
it in his documents. Neither does his chronicler, the successor of Fredegarius,
ever invest him with it.[
On the other hand, in the documents
which emanate from Rome, whether
drawn up in the name of the Pope or of others, the title is
always
used. There has been much discussion as to its origin and
meaning. In the
empire the title of "patrician" was merely an empty
distinction, and
had been borne by exarchs, dukes, and strategists. In France
it was bestowed on
the governors of Provence, e.g. Mummolus and Dynamius in the
sixth century,
and Abbon in the eighth. But the title in question is not that
of "patrician" in general, but of "Patrician of the Romans", for
the word Romanorum is never absent. Later on, after the year 744, Charlemagne
made use of it in addition to his former titles of rex Francorum and rex
Langobardorum, which all served as an expression of his rights over the Franks,
the Lombards, and the Romans—the Romans of the Pope, be it understood, not the
others. It is evident, then, that the term patricius Romanorum was of Roman
rather than of imperial origin.
It seems extremely probable, if we may venture to say so, that the title
was given by Stephen to the Frankish princes, first of all as an expression of
their protectorships over the new order of things in general; and secondly, to
avoid reviving the Exarch at Ravenna, and to maintain the duke at Rome.
In fact, after the year 754, there is no mention of the Duke of Rome;
there are dukes of Rome, in the plural, the title being used in either an
administrative or a military sense; but the "Duke of Rome" no longer
existed. With these two exceptions all the former offices are preserved,
and it must be noted that the patriciate had been conferred on the holders of
both the extinct titles. The Pope could henceforth dispense with Exarch and
duke; and, in order to repress any inconvenient desire for reassertion on
their part, he did his best to replace them by a patricius Romanorum, whose
influence, though remote, was rendered important by the spell of his power and
the memory of services rendered in past days.
Before speeding the Pope on his homeward way, Pepin was anxious to form
some idea of the direction affairs would take, as a result of their amicable
interview. Besides, the time of year was not suitable for a long journey,
especially in the case of a venerable old man. The king, therefore, established
his guest at the Abbey of St. Denis, taking advantage of the
occasion to confirm his title to the crown by a second coronation
ceremony, which included not only himself, but his wife and sons. Soon
afterwards, the Pope, worn out by travelling, and tried by the rigours of the
winter, fell so seriously ill that his life was despaired of. He recovered,
nevertheless —an event which was attributed by the monks to the influence of
their patron saint.
Meanwhile, the negotiations were proceeding. In vain did Pepin's
ambassadors surround the Lombard king with incessant and urgent petitions.
Stephen's biographer tells us that they had been sent propter pacis foedera et
proprietatis sanctae Dei ecclesiAe rei-publicae restituenda jura. This curious
expression, which is employed several times in these accounts, seems to contain
incongruous elements. We get a much more coherent account from Fredegarius's
successor, who asserts that Pepin requested Astolphus to avoid any display of
enmity to Rome out of respect for the Apostles Peter and
Paul, and for his (Pepin's) sake, to abstain from unaccustomed impositions.
History does not relate the Lombard king's reasons for refusing, but we know
that he despatched to France an ambassador of sacred calling—no less a person
than Pepin's own brother, Carloman, formerly king of the eastern part of the Frankish
empire, and at that time a monk of Monte Cassino. This reverend personage
proved as unsuccessful with the Pope and the Frankish king as the latter's
envoys had been with Astolphus. Indeed, Italy saw him no more, for the Frankish
authorities considered that he would more worthily fulfil his vocation in their
own territory, and established him
in a convent at Vienna, where he soon afterwards died.
A great national convocation was held on 1st March 754 at Braisne, and
another at Easter (14th April) at Kiersy-sur-Oise. It was decided, though not
unanimously, to make war upon Astolphus, and force him to yield to the
Pope's demands. One last fruitless appeal was made to him, when the Frankish
army was already on the way to Italy. The united letters of Pepin and the Pope
produced no effect. The Frankish army continued its way towards the Mont Cenis
pass. On both sides the passes were in Frankish territory, and the somewhat
feebly garrisoned valley of the Susa was reinforced in order to prevent the
Lombards from taking possession. Astolphus made his appearance before he was
expected, but the Frankish vanguard presented such a good front that the Lombards,
in alarm and disorder, fled back towards their capital. Pepin, followed at no
great distance by the Pope, calmly crossed the Alps and laid siege to Pavia.
Astolphus, utterly defeated, was obliged by solemn treaty to deliver
up Ravenna and the other conquered provinces; he even agreed to yield Narni, a
town in the north of the duchy, which had been seized by Liutprand. Pepin was
quite satisfied, and gave no heed to Stephen II, who, having some reason to
distrust the Lombard king, would have preferred a more reliable guarantee of
good faith, and wanted the Frankish king to insist on
the immediate restoration of the provinces in question.
Pepin provided the Pope with the escort of his brother Jerome, and
other persons of consequence, as far as Rome, which he entered at the end of
October 754. The clergy and the people welcomed him with open arms, and thanks
were rendered to God for His great mercies.
These rejoicings were but of brief duration. Astolphus, plausible
enough, had allowed the Frankish army to return home, and even began to carry
out his promise of restoring Narni. But no sooner was Pepin at a safe distance
than the faithless monarch absolutely refused any further concessions, and
actually resumed his former plundering expeditions in the country round Rome.
The Pope wrote two letters of complaint to Pepin; one was entrusted to
Wilchar, Bishop of Nomentum, and the other to Abbot Fulrad, who had possibly
been one of the return escort. Meanwhile Astolphus, no longer concealing his animosity,
prepared to invade the duchy of Rome. On 1st January 756 there arrived at Rome
itself three military divisions. The first, which came from Tuscany,
established itself before the gates of St. Pancratius; the second, with the
king at its head, passed over the left bank of the Tiber, and threatened the
gate of Salaria; while the third, which hailed from the duchy of Beneventum,
blockaded the gates of the Lateran and St. Paul's. The surrounding country was
ravaged and laid waste in a pitiless manner. The
troops pressed closely around the city, but the Pope continued to
smuggle out fresh ambassadors, who proceeded by sea to France, to seek help
from Pepin. These were George, Bishop of Ostia, Thomaricus and Comita, two
Roman nobles, and one of Pepin's own legates, a Frankish abbot named
Warneharius. This latter had taken part in the Roman defence, wearing a suit of
armour over his monastic habit, and mounting guard in the ramparts. Three
letters1 were entrusted to these messengers; the first in the name of the Pope
alone; the second in the name of the Pope, the suburban bishops, the Priests,
Deacons, Dukes, Registrars, Counts, Tribunes, the whole people, and the army.
This was of the same import as the first, and was addressed not only to Pepin,
but also to his two sons, and to all the Bishops, Abbots, Priests, Monks,
Dukes, Counts, and the whole Frankish army. The third is addressed to the same
persons as the foregoing, but it is supposed to be written by the Apostle
Peter: Ego Petrus apostolus. It contains, in this strange form, the ingenuous
expression of the idea likely to prove most effective: the Prince of the
Apostles, the doorkeeper of heaven, was threatened in his sanctuary; to come to
his assistance was a sacred duty, and those who responded to the call would
have special claims on his gratitude and patronage.
These cries of distress were heard. The Frankish army again turned
towards Mont Cenis, and Rome was immediately set free. The Franks and the
Lombards engaged in deadly warfare, and the vanquished Astolphus was driven to
take refuge once more in Pavia. Meanwhile, John the Silentiary reappeared at
Rome, in company with another worthy,
the great secretary George (proto a secreta). They were entrusted with a
mission to the Frankish king, and the Pope provided them with a confidential
escort as far as Marseilles. On arriving there, however, they found that Pepin
was already in Italy. The Byzantine diplomats, much perturbed at this
discovery, made arrangements to detain the papal delegate at Marseilles, while
George hastened to Pepin, whom he found in the neighbourhood of Pavia. His
entreaties that Ravenna, the Exarchy, and the other contested cities should be
restored to the imperial government (imperiali concederet ditioni) were
fruitless. Pepin protested that he had only undertaken the campaign out of love
for St. Peter, and to gain the remission of his sins, and that no amount of
bribery could have any effect on him. Thus dismissed, the crestfallen envoy
returned to Rome, on his way to Constantinople.
Astolphus soon found himself obliged to enter into a treaty, the terms
of which were rather more stringent than the first time. Comacchio was added to
the list of territories to be yielded, and Pepin not only imposed a heavy war
tax, but revived the tribute which the Lombard kings had in former times paid
to the Franks.
To ensure the proper carrying out of this compact, the Abbot Fulrad,
who had stayed behind in Italy with a military detachment, made a tour of the
towns with the Lombard commissioners, everywhere
demanding the delivering up of the city keys, hostages and delegates
from the aristocracy. Then, together with these representatives of the
conquered territory, he proceeded to Rome, and deposited in the Confession at
St. Peter's, not only the keys of the towns, but the deed by which King Pepin
made them over to the Apostle, to his Vicar, and to all his successors.
The exact wording of this deed of gift is no longer preserved to us, but
in the life of Stephen II we have the list of territories given up to the Holy
See. They include, first of all, Comacchio and Ravenna, and then the tract of
land between the Apennines and the sea, from Forli in the north as far as Jesi
Sinigaglia in the south. There is no mention of Ancona and the remains of what
was known later as the Marches, nor of Faenza, Imola, Bologna, and Ferrara. The
papal State had still therefore much to acquire north of the Apennines. To the
south of the chain, Eugubium (Gubbio) alone appears to be included. Perugia,
which was a near neighbour, still belonged to the Romans.
With the exception of Narni, which had formerly been annexed by the
duchy of Spoleto, and which was restored in 756, the Lombard king's
"restitutions" were what he himself had seized. Rome, though at
first satisfied, had not forgotten the time when these provinces had other
limits. It was hardly thirty years since the annexation of Bologna in the north
and Osimo in the south, and now the Romans began to consider the possibility of
recapturing Liutprand's conquests in the same way as those of Astolphus. They
had not long to wait for their opportunity. Only a few months after the
departure of the Frankish army, Astolphus met his death
through a hunting accident. There was great rejoicing among the Romans,
who thought they saw the hand of Providence in the fact of the king's dying
only a year after his last expedition. To make matters still more cheerful, the
possession of the throne was disputed by two rivals, neither of them very
formidable. They were Desiderius, Duke of Tuscany, and Ratchis, brother of the
former king, and at that time a monk of Monte Cassino. Desiderius intimated
his willingness to acquiesce in all the Pope's wishes, so Stephen sent him a
deputation, consisting of his own brother Paul and the Councillor Christopher,
together with the Abbot Fulrad. Desiderius promised to restore to the
"republic" the cities which were lacking, civitates quae remanserant,
i.e., Faenza, Imola, and Ferrara, to the west of the Exarchy, and Ancona,
Osimo, and Umana to the east of Pentapolis. An agreement was signed under Fulrad's
supervision, and, with a little persuasion, Desiderius promised to give up
Bologna as well.
Stephen was beside himself with delight, and poured forth his soul in a
letter to Pepin written in March or April 757. Thanks to the Frankish
protection and Fulrad's vigorous action, the Pope already looked upon himself
as the sovereign disposer of Italy. Desiderius, the new king, begged his good
offices in recommending him to the favour of the Frankish monarch. The
inhabitants of the duchy of Spoleto, who had just elected a new duke, and even
those of the duchy of Beneventum, approached him with the same end in view. We
may add that the Dukes of Spoleto and Beneventum were, in theory at all events,
officially connected with the Lombard kingdom.
The Byzantine empire, however, did not join its
note to this chorus. It was no longer in a position, as in Zachary's
time, to benefit by the diplomatic successes of the Holy See, which, by the
way, were not as complete as they had hoped. It was for the Pope to yield
first. He sent one of his priests, Stephen, to Ratchis, exhorting him to go
back to his monastic life. The Abbot Fulrad sallied forth at the head of his
Frankish troops to support the eloquence of the legate. The Roman army was
ready to follow him. Ratchis did as he was bidden, and Desiderius was
proclaimed king of the Lombards.
The situation once conquered, he appeared in no hurry to divide up his
kingdom. It is true that Faenza and Ferrara were restored to the Exarchy,
but as far as Pentapolis was concerned, no change took place.
PAUL
Pope Stephen was, however, spared this disillusionment, for soon after
the accession of Desiderius, on 26th April 757, he was gathered to his fathers.
He was immediately succeeded by his brother, the deacon Paul, in spite of
opposition from a section who desired the appointment of the Archdeacon
Theophylact. These two brother Popes, under whose auspices the temporal power
began to rise, were members of an aristocratic family who dwelt at the end of
the Via Lata, the rich quarter of that time. Paul turned the paternal mansion
into a monastery, so that they were, in all probability, the last of their
race.
We must here make mention of the religious monuments which, at Rome and
elsewhere, consecrate the memory of many events of this time. One of the most
important of these is the Chapel of St. Petronilla. In the cemetery of the
Ardeatine way at Rome, the tomb of St. Petronilla was venerated, who,
according to the fabulous records of the saints Néreus and Achilles, was
considered to be the daughter of St. Peter. Pepin, whose interest in this cult
had been by some means aroused during Stephen's stay in France, requested that
the body of the saint should be removed to the Vatican, near to the tomb of her
putative father. For her resting-place was chosen one of two circular
mausoleums, constructed in the fifth century for the Theodosian family; the
first, which had probably never been used for purposes of interment, had been
dedicated to St. Andrew by Pope Symmachus (498-514), while the other became
the temple of the saint beloved by the Franks. The necessary alterations were
speedily completed, and on 8th October 757, the Pontiff Paul presided over the
removal of the remains. Not long after, Rome became possessed of an important
memento of the Carlovingian family, which was solemnly deposited by the Pope in
the new sanctuary. It was nothing less than the sabanum1 of Gis&le, Pepin's
baby daughter, to whom Paul had accepted the office of god-father.
Thenceforward in his correspondence with the Franks, Paul always styles himself
the "compare" (or fellow-father) of King Pepin. His brother
Stephen, before him, had made use of the same title, though in his case it was
probably an empty one, for there is no record of any children being born to
Pepin during the preceding years.
Thus, through these family ties, represented by Petronilla and Gisele, a
close union was brought about between the Frankish princes and the heads of the
Church—St. Peter and his successors. In
this connection we must also mention St. Sylvester and St. Denis.
In the imposing legend of St. Sylvester, which dates from the fifth
century, the vivid Eastern imagination had symbolised the remarkable effect
produced on the world by the conversion of Constantine. One of the most
prominent topographical features of this old story was Mount Soracte. This
beautiful mountain, which towers over the course of the Tiber and Roman Tuscia,
had, from early times, been the haunt of monastic colonies. In the eighth
century the highest peak was crowned with a church dedicated to St. Sylvester,
and lower down were three other convents in connection with the superior
monastery. This was at one time the abode of Pepin's brother, Carloman, who had
resigned his temporal position. The monastery and all its dependencies had been
presented to him by Pope Zachary. Later on, however, Paul made over the rights
of the property to Pepin, who immediately assigned it to the Roman Church.
Paul proceeded to affiliate this royal gift to the monastic foundation
which he had just established in his paternal mansion in the Via Lata. He
named it in honour of the two saints, Stephen and Sylvester. The former was a
third century Pope, who had left his mark on the legendary lore of the time,
and with whose name were bound up memories of Stephen II, formerly joint owner
of the estate to be consecrated. His remains were taken from the catacombs ;
those of St. Sylvester were brought from his basilica in the Salarian way, and
those two sainted Popes were installed in the interior church of the monastery.
The convents of Soracte, St. Sylvester, and others, were annexed to the
monastery in the Via Lata. Furthermore, the larger of the two churches of which
the monastery boasted, the external basilica, to which the public had access,
was dedicated to St. Denis of Paris.
This was evidently to commemorate the Pope's visit to the royal abbey of
St. Denis, whose abbot was distinguished by a burning enthusiasm for the Holy
See. Pepin, Carloman, Stephen II, Fulrad, and all the other prominent names of
latter years were to be found there under the rival protection of the saints of
Rome and of Paris. The Via Lata monastery might, indeed, be called a memorial
of the foundation of the early Roman State.
But that St. Sylvester did not confine his patronage to memorials of
this kind will be seen from the following. King Astolphus had married the
daughter of one of the principal Lombard dukes Anselm. This latter, like his
contemporaries, Hunald of Aquitaine, Carloman of France, and Ratchis of Italy,
had devoted himself to a monastic life, and his royal son-in-law bestowed on
him a large estate to the north of Modena, in the district of Nonantola, as the
site for a monastery. This was in 751, shortly after the capture of Ravenna.
The following years (752 and 753) when the relations between Astolphus and the
Pope were already somewhat strained, the Bishop of Reggio first, and then the
Archbishop of Ravenna, proceeded to consecrate the churches and oratories. The
monastery had not long been established when the Lombard king undertook his
expedition against Rome. The Abbot Anselm followed his king as far as the walls
of the holy city, and though there is no
evidence that he actually engaged in fighting as did such other
well-known monks as Hunald and Warneharius, there is no doubt that he
received his share of the spoils. Among the treasures that he brought away from
Rome was the body of St. Sylvester. Now, as this holy relic was preserved in a
church in the Salarian way, just where the Lombard army had taken up its
position, its removal to Nonantola may safely be reckoned among those
depredations condemned as sacrilegious by the biographer of Stephen II. The
idea that it may have been a gift from the pontiff is scarcely worth
entertaining. The monks, later on, tried to gloss over the misdeed by
manufacturing letters of transfer, very difficult to reconcile with the
foundation of St. Sylvester in the Via Lata.
This is no place in which to investigate the authenticity of the relics
claimed by the two convents. It is of no great moment whether the Lombards or
the Romans were mistaken as to the tomb, or whether an unequal division was the
result of a theft on the one hand, or of a pious appropriation on the other.
The point to be accentuated is that the Abbey of Nonantola and its local
worship of St. Sylvester, perpetuated in the Lombard district, and in an
essentially Lombard style, the memory of the Roman crisis of 756, and the
beginnings of the temporal power.
No sooner was Paul elected than, without waiting to be ordained, he
announced to Pepin the facts of his brother's death and of his own succession,
assuring
him at the same time of his readiness to carry out faithfully the
engagements made by his predecessor. A Frankish envoy, Immo by name, had just
arrived at Rome, and he was detained by the Pope, in order that he might attend
the ordination ceremony. A few weeks later letters arrived from France; one of
them was addressed to the aristocracy and the lay population, and urgently
enjoined loyalty to the new Pope.
We will come back later to a consideration of home affairs. Outside,
serious transactions were taking place. The Pope continued to clamour for the
towns that Desiderius had promised, but the Lombard king was by no means eager
to respond. His reluctance was undoubtedly intensified by Paul's curious
interference in the affairs of Spoleto and Beneventum. In demanding the
Frankish protection for these two duchies, the Holy See was encroaching upon
the political domain of the Lombard kingdom. It was going back twenty years to
the schemes of Gregory III, afterwards abandoned by Zachary, under the pressure
of circumstances.
Obviously it was not for Pepin to follow the Pope's example, and involve
himself in these perilous political affairs. He must have thought it odd that
Paul should have enlisted himself on the side of the Dukes of Aquitaine and Bavaria,
who were continually in rebellion against the central power of the Frankish
kingdom. He, therefore, refused the protectorship, and gave no support to the
Romans in their increased claims upon the Exarchy and Pentapolis. Desiderius
imagined that he had a free hand in the matter, and
began operations by starting forth to quell the rebellious dukes. In
order to reach them he had to pass through Pentapolis, most probably by way of
Gubbio, and the ravages committed by his soldiers on the way created great
indignation among the Romans. The Duke of Spoleto, Alboni, was taken prisoner
with several of his "satraps," but the Duke of Beneventum managed to
take refuge at Otranto. Desiderius installed another in his place, and then
proceeded to Rome. The Pope met him outside the walls of St. Peter's, and
pleaded persistently for the restoration of the promised towns. His eloquence,
however, had no effect upon the king, who undertook to surrender Imola alone,
and that only on condition that Pepin should deliver up the Lombard hostages
who had been taken to France. The Pope, seemingly resigned, wrote to the
Frankish king to this effect, but at the same time he contrived that Pepin
should receive another letter from him, cancelling the contents of the first,
maintaining all the Roman claims, and urging him to insist on a complete
fulfilment of all the promises made by the Lombard king.
Pepin despatched to Italy his brother Remedius, Bishop of Rouen, and the
Duke Autchaire, and they succeeded in arranging matters on the basis of uti
possidetis. Desiderius was to yield no other town, not even Imola; the Pope was
adjudged possessor of the remainder; the damage done by either party was to be
repaired; and many trifling questions concerning boundaries, customs, and
patrimonies were affably settled. Pepin did his utmost to persuade the Pope to
submit, and even to cultivate the friendship of the Lombard king. Paul, there fore, resigned himself, though not without grief and recriminations,
to the dispelling of his dreams. It was, nevertheless, extremely evident that
the Frankish king could neither undertake to place himself at the disposal of
the Romans and their plans, nor to cross the Alps every time that there was a
frontier skirmish between the Romans and the Lombards.
Moreover, it was to the interest of the Lombards to cultivate peace;
henceforth they had a common enemy, the Byzantine empire, which was quite ready
to take advantage of their disagreements. Constantine V, disappointed in his
hopes of the Frankish intervention and the diplomacy of the Pope, continued
his designs on Ravenna, and sought to regain a footing in central Italy. His
efforts were mainly directed against the Pope, who at that time held Ravenna,
and was responsible for the emancipation of the Romans. Instead, however, of
entering into direct communication with him, he began by making friendly
overtures to Desiderius. On the other hand, he considered that the
ecclesiastical disunion produced by the images dispute was pretext enough for
approaching the Frankish king. The iconoclastic reform did not, of course,
affect the dwellers on the other side of the Alps to anything like the same
extent as those of Byzantine Rome. Not only had they taken no part in the papal
demonstrations, on behalf of the use of images and symbols in worship for
thirty years, but the worship itself, in spite of the great decline of Frankish
Christianity, did not appeal to them at all seriously. An attempt might be made
to engage them in a struggle against what the empire proscribed as a religious
perversion. Piety, thus understood, would provide a substitute for ground lost
in the political arena. One proof that this
ground was well selected is to be found in the fact that the Frankish
Church, under Charlemagne and Louis the Pious, far from sharing the Pope's
attitude towards the image question, rather supported the views of the
iconoclast emperors.
At Rome they were quite cognisant of this danger. Indeed, Pope Paul
spent the whole of his pontificate in listening to rumours from the south, and
quaking before the dread of a political alliance between the Greeks and
Lombards, or a religious compact between the emperor and the Frankish court.
But Pepin, who was a man of ability and common sense, did not let
himself be beguiled by the half-theological diplomats who were sent to him
from Constantinople. Nor did he allow himself to be led away, like the Romans,
into constant plans for the redivision of the Italian territory. He saw at
once that the important point was to bring about a reconciliation between his
two allies, the Pope and the Lombard king, and with tact and energy he set
about producing this result without wounding the feelings of either party. In
spite of the Pope's demands for a Frankish missus to be in permanent residence
at Rome, Pepin confined himself to supplying temporary legations, deputies
entrusted to arrange transient or special difficulties. If there was any need
for the Frankish king to be represented in Italy as the Pope's protector, it
was on Desiderius himself that the office devolved. The latter was induced to
give up the intrigues formed with the Greeks at the beginning of his reign, and
the Pope was persuaded to come to an understanding with him, and, if necessary,
to claim his support.
Towards the religious question, Pepin's attitude
was just as sane and simple. He listened to the Pope's continual
exhortations against the imperial unorthodoxy, and always acted in accord with
him, both at Constantinople (by means of their respective ambassadors), and in
France in the event of any dispute. The Byzantines finally recognised their
mistake; in Italy, Pepin's friendly relations with the Pope and the Lombards
were an effectual hindrance to their political schemes, while, as far as the
Franks were concerned, their loyalty to the great Head of religious affairs of
the west was deep enough to discourage any further attempts on the part of the
orientals to arouse ill-feeling against their powerful protector.
This is the impression that we get from the letters written by Paul to
King Pepin, and preserved to us in the Codex Carolinus.
Unfortunately we
have no means of correcting or supplementing this
correspondence, and, as the
dates are lacking, it is often difficult to arrange the letters
in their
chronological order. Details on the subject are not easily
obtained, for, from
the Liber Pontificalis we learn nothing, and from the Frankish
chronicles, but
little, of these events. But there is conclusive evidence that
the two Byzantine
diplomats of 756, John the Silentiary and George, the chief
secretary,
continued their mission in the following year. The former
installed himself at
the Frankish court, and the latter in Italy, where he combined
with the Lombard
king in plotting against Ravenna. Later on, in 763, Pepin and
Paul united in
sending two ambassadors to Constantinople, where they stayed the
winter. The
pontiff's "chief adviser at that time was Christopher,
primicerius of the
notaries. Among the people of Constantinople he bore the
reputation of taking an undue part in the writing or editing of the
papal
letters, and he was popularly accused of trying to corrupt the
Frankish and
Byzantine envoys. The imperial government was anxious to do away
with the papal
legates, and to transact business directly with the Frankish
court, but their
endeavours in this line were apparently unsuccessful. We hear of
a conference
held at Gentilly early in 767, where, according to the annalist
of Lorsch,
there was a discussion inter Romanos et Graecos de sancta Trinitate et de
sanctorum imaginibus. From the presence of the Romans on this occasion, we
conclude that Pepin continued to persevere in his principle of referring all
religious discussions to the Pope.
Very soon afterwards, on 28th June 767, Pope Paul breathed his last.
Affairs at Rome itself were quiet, though with a superficial quietness which
was speedily and seriously to be disturbed. Let us now glance at the
ecclesiastical and military organisation of the little Roman State and at the
beginnings of the contest which might have been observed or foretold even at
that time.
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