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BOOK I.
THE GREAT SCHISM.
1378-1414
CHAPTER V.
GREGORY XII. — BENEDICT XIII.
NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN THE RIVAL POPES.
1406 — 1409.
THE death of Innocent VII again kindled in France
delusive lopes of a peaceable ending of the Schism. In a short tractate Gerson set
forth four possible courses: the recognition of Benedict XIII by the Roman
Cardinals; a General Council of the adherents of both parties to decide on the steps
to be taken; recognition by Benedict’s obedience of the rights of the Roman
Cardinals; or a union of both Colleges for a new election. On their side the
Roman Cardinals hesitated what course to pursue. If France succeeded in forcing
Benedict to resign, a new election by the united Colleges was the surest means
of settling a dispute between two powers which recognized no superior; but the
procedure would be long, and meanwhile what was to become of Rome, the Papal
dominions, and the Cardinals themselves? They shrank before the dangers of a
doubtful future, and tried to discover a middle course by which they would at
least be secure. The fourteen Cardinals who were in Rome entered the Conclave
on November 18; after the doors were closed, there arrived an envoy from
Florence, and a window was broken in the wall to allow him to address the
Cardinals, who announced that they were not going to elect a Pope, but a
commissioner to restore the unity of the Church. They acted in the same spirit,
and resolved on November 23, after some discussion, to elect a Pope who was
solemnly bound to make the restoration of unity his chief duty. They set their
hands to a document, and took oaths upon the Gospels, that he who was elected
should resign his office whenever the antipope did so, or died; that this
promise should be announced to all the princes and prelates of Christendom
within a month of the Pope’s enthronement; and that ambassadors should be sent
within three months of that date to try and arrange for ending the Schism;
meanwhile no new cardinals were to be created until after an interval of
fifteen months, in case negotiations failed through the obstinacy of the
antipope. The Cardinals showed their sincerity by the election which they made.
They chose a man renowned for uprightness and sincerity rather than for
intelligence and cleverness, Angelo Correr, Cardinal of S. Mark, a Venetian,
whose character and age seemed to guarantee him as free from the promptings of
ambition and self-seeking. He was nearly eighty years old, a man of
old-fashioned severity and piety. The very appearance of Cardinal Correr seemed
to carry conviction; he was tall, but so thin and worn, that he seemed to be
but skin and bones. The only objection to him was that he was scarcely likely
to live long enough to accomplish his object.
Correr had not been remarkable in his early years, but
had acted as legate under Boniface IX, and had been made Cardinal by Innocent
VII, of whom he was a special favorite. His first steps were in accordance with
his previous character. He took the name of Gregory XII, and was enthroned on
December 5, when he preached a sermon from the text, “Prepare ye the way of the
Lord”, and exhorted everyone to labor for unity. Before his coronation he
publicly repeated the oath which he had taken in common with the
other Cardinals. His talk was of nothing but unity; he eagerly declared
that no small hindrances should stand in his way; if there was not a galley to
take him to the place of conference with his rival, he would go in a
fishing-boat; if horses failed him, he would take his staff in his hand and go
on foot. In the same spirit, on December 11, he sent letters, written by
Leonardo Bruni, to Benedict and to all the princes of Christendom. To Benedict
he wrote in a tone of kindly remonstrance. “Let us both arise”, he said, “and
come together into one desire for unity: let us bring health to the Church that
has been so long diseased”. He declared himself ready to resign if Benedict
would, and proposed to send ambassadors to settle the place and manner in which
the Cardinals on both sides should meet for a new election.
These steps of the Roman Cardinals and their Pope
produced a deep impression in Paris, where the French prelates were sitting to
decide on the demand of the University that France should withdraw from the
obedience of Benedict. The synod set to work on November 18; but so bitter was
the University against Benedict, that Peter d'Ailly and others were with
difficulty allowed to plead in his behalf. The violence of the University
damaged its cause; some did not scruple to lay to Benedict’s charge foul
accusations for which there was not a shadow of proof. Peter d'Ailly spoke with
weight against such rash and violent procedure, and advocated the summons of a
Council of Benedict’s obedience. There was much heat in discussion and much
difference of opinion. Benedict’s friends wished to approach him by way of
filial remonstrance; his opponents declared that many efforts had been made in
vain to vanquish his obstinacy, and that nothing remained but to
withdraw from his obedience.
It was not, indeed, easy to discover a way of getting
rid of Benedict without diminishing the rights of the Church. Gradually a
compromise was made; and it was agreed to leave Benedict’s spiritual power
untouched, but to deprive him of his revenues. A decree was prepared for
withdrawing from the Pope the collation to all benefices in France until a
General Council should decide otherwise. It was signed by the King on January
7, 1407, but was not immediately published, as the Duke of Orleans wished to
see the results of the proceedings of the Roman Pope: an edict was, however,
signed forbidding the payment of annates and other dues.
When Gregory XII’s letters were known in Paris there
was great rejoicing, and some even talked of recognizing Gregory if Benedict
still remained obstinate. But Benedict surprised all by the cordiality of his
reply; he assured Gregory that his desire for union was sincere, and that he
was ready to agree to the proposal of a common resignation. “We cannot
dissemble our surprise”, he adds, “that your letter insinuates that you cannot
come to the establishment of union by the way of justice; it never has been,
is, or will be our doing that the justice and truth of this matter, so far as
concerns us, be not seen and recognized”. Some of the Professors of the
University looked suspiciously at the last sentence, which was capable of two
interpretations, and might mean that Benedict was ready for discussion, not for
resignation, of his claims.
Accordingly the King wrote, on March 1, to Benedict
XIII, saying that, as some expressions in his letter might mean that he wished
to waste time in discussing the justice of his position, he besought him to lay
aside all subterfuges and state openly his willingness to resign. At the same
time, influential ambassadors, headed by Simon Cramaud, Patriarch of
Alexandria, were appointed to confer with both Popes; and a twentieth was
levied on the French clergy to provide for the expenses of their journey.
There was no lack of letters, of ambassadors, and of
talk. Before the French ambassadors reached Marseilles, where Benedict XIII had
taken up his abode in the autumn of 1406, an embassy from Gregory XII had
already been there. The appointment of this embassy gave the first reason to
Gregory’s Cardinals for doubting the sincerity of the Pope. According to the
promise made on his election, he was bound to send an embassy within three
months. Malatesta, Lord of Pesaro, offered to go as ambassador at his own
expense; but Gregory declined his offer, and waited till the day before the
expiration of the term of three months, when he appointed as his envoys his
nephew, Antonio Correr, Bishop of Modon, the Bishop of Todi, and Antonio de
Butrio, a learned jurist of Bologna. It was not a good augury that one who had
a strong personal interest in keeping his uncle on the Papal seat should be
appointed to negotiate for his abdication. The Cardinals urged Gregory to waste
no time, but finish the great cause he had in hand: Gregory humbly asked them
to help him to do so; “as if”, says Niem, indignantly, “they had anything to do
with the matter”. The Cardinals began to suspect the Pope of being a wolf in
sheep’s clothing.
When Gregory’s ambassadors reached Marseilles there
was much fierce discussion about the place where the two Popes were to meet,
the number of attendants each was to bring, the securities to be taken on each
side, and such-like points. The question of the place of meeting was of course
the most important, as each Pope demanded a place in his own obedience. At
last matters were referred, on Benedict’s part, to a small committee,
which proposed Savona, near Genoa, on the Riviera. To every one’s surprise
Antonio Correr at once agreed, and drew from his pocket a paper in Gregory’s
hand writing, in which he declared himself ready to accept Ghent or Avignon
rather than let any difficulty about place stand in the way of peace. The
acceptance of Savona was greatly in favor of Benedict; he was close to it, could
go and return readily to a town which, being in the hands of France, was in his
obedience. To Gregory, on the other hand, Savona was difficult to reach; the
journey was costly, and the dangers in the way were considerable. We are driven
to the conclusion that Antonio Correr was acting slyly in his own interests. By
accepting Savona he gave a touching proof of his uncle’s readiness to do what
was demanded of him, while the real chance of a conference at Savona was very
slight. Still an elaborate series of regulations as to arrangements for the
conference was drawn up and signed on April 21; and September 29, or at the
latest November 1, was fixed as the day of meeting.
The agreement just made between the two Popes can
scarcely have been regarded as satisfactory by anyone outside France. If both
Popes ceded at Savona, and a new election were there made, France would have an
overwhelming influence upon the choice of the Cardinals. This would be
hazardous to England, to Naples, and to Venice, who would be sure to take steps
to prevent it. France, while professing its zeal for the union of the Church,
aimed at a return to the principles of the French Papacy at Avignon. Europe
might lament a Schism, but would not consent to end the Schism by restoring the
French predominance over the Papacy. Antonio Correr looked forward with a light
heart to the failure of all expectations built on this plan. He left Marseilles
for Paris, and on his way, at Aix, met the French ambassadors, who besought him
to return to Rome at once and prepare his uncle for the journey. They regarded
with suspicion the agreement, which had just been signed, as it was
over-plausible, and left room for doubtful interpretations on many points.
Correr did his best to reassure them: he repeated to them words which his uncle
had spoken to him in private. “Do you think, my dear nephew, that it is the
obligation of my oath which makes me labor for peace? It is love, rather than
my oath, which leads me to resign; day by day my zeal for peace increases. When
shall I see the happy day on which I shall have restored the unity of the
Church?” At the same time he warned the ambassadors that Benedict was a hard
man, who ought not to be irritated, but rather allured by kindness. He begged
them to treat him gently, or they would spoil all. Antonio’s zeal was truly
touching; plausible hypocrisy could go no further.
On May 10, Benedict XIII received the ambassadors of
France; and at the audience the Patriarch of Alexandria besought him to go to
the conference without any view of discussion, but to resolve on abdicating,
and to express himself on this point without any ambiguity. The Pope answered
at once with great fluency and at great length, but divided his answer into so
many heads, and spoke with such obscurity, that the ambassadors gazed at one another
in silent hope that someone else might be more acute than himself at
understanding the Pope’s meaning. The next day they came before him with a
demand that he would issue a Bull declaring his intention of proceeding by way
of abdicating, and of putting all other ways aside. To this Benedict replied
with considerable dignity, and also with much political wisdom. To settle this
difficult matter, he said, confidence and freedom were necessary; every mark of
want of confidence in him would strengthen the hands of his adversary, and tend
to bring about the very discussion of trifles which they I wished to avoid; he
must go to the conference free and trusted above all things. The ambassadors
felt that they had gone too far in allowing their distrust to be so clearly
seen. The Pope perceived the impression that he had made, and determined to
improve his opportunity. After the public audience he called aside the
Patriarch of Alexandria and some other members of the embassy, and gently spoke
to them about the accusations which were rife in Paris against himself. All
were moved with some sort of remorse and many broke into tears; the Patriarch
threw himself at the Pope’s feet and humbly asked pardon for his doubts and for
his rash utterances in former days. Benedict generously forgave them all, and
dismissed them with his blessing. He had adroitly managed by a moral appeal to
assert his superiority, and had won a diplomatic victory which left the
ambassadors of France in his hands.
The ambassadors turned next to the Cardinals, who
promised to do all they could to prevail on Benedict to issue a Bull
declaratory of his intentions; and they were also aided by envoys from the Duke
of Orleans. But nothing could alter Benedict’s determination. He still refused
to issue a Bull; and in the final audience of the ambassadors, on May 18, the
Patriarch of Alexandria thanked him for his declaration of good intentions, but
added: “As ambassadors of the King of France we cannot say that we are content,
for our instructions bade us insist with all humility to obtain your Bulls on
this matter”. Benedict angrily answered that every Christian man ought to be
content, the King of France among the rest; if he were not, he did not love the
Church. The ambassadors retired to Aix, and deliberated whether to publish the
withdrawal of allegiance from Benedict, according to their instructions in case
he refused to grant the Bulls. The moderate men, however, were in
majority, and judged that such a step would only hinder the progress of union.
They resolved to hold their hand and the embassy was divided into three bodies,
one of which returned to Paris to tell the King of their success, a second body
went to Marseilles to keep watch over Benedict, and a third detachment
proceeded to Rome to strengthen the good resolutions of Gregory. Charles VI
professed himself satisfied with what had been done, but the University was
loud in its complaints, and urged on the King to carry out the withdrawal; when
the King refused they threatened to shut up their schools and suspend their
lectures, and were with difficulty pacified. The ambassadors of Gregory entered
Paris on June 10, headed by the nephew Antonio, who, in spite of the request
that he would return to Rome, was unable to give up his desire to visit Paris
and experience the liberality of the French King. The ambassadors were received
with great pomp and rejoicing, which they repaid with fair words and cheap
promises.
Other news, however, awaited the French envoys who
were dispatched to Rome. As they advanced through Italy they heard much that
made them doubt of Gregory’s sincerity. His old age had led the Cardinals to
suppose that he was free from personal ambition, but they forgot that it made
him liable to fall under the influence of others. Gregory’s relatives gathered
round him, and when once they had tasted the sweets of power, did all they
could to make the poor old man forget his promises and cling to office. His
nephews and their dependents took up their abode in the Vatican and spent the
contents of the Papal treasury in foolish extravagances. They had vast trains
of horses and servants, and indulged in childish luxuries. It is a satire on
the old man’s tastes that his household spent more in sugar than had sufficed to
feed and clothe his predecessors. Moreover, he treated the relatives of his
patron Innocent VII with ingratitude, and drove them from the Curia; he
dispossessed Ludovico Migliorati of the March; he dismissed Innocent’s
chamberlain, and appointed his own nephew Antonio in his stead. Such money as
he had was squandered; and then an appeal was made throughout his obedience for
means to provide the expenses of his journey to Savona.
Nor were they only personal motives at work to shake
the old man’s constancy. Ladislas of Naples saw with alarm the progress of
negotiations towards unity of the Church; so long as the Schism lasted, the
Roman Pope was necessarily bound to the party of Durazzo in Naples, whereas a
new Pope over a united Christendom, elected at Savona, would fall under French
influence, and lend his weight to the party of Anjou. Rome had quietly accepted
the rule of Gregory, and had submitted to the Senator whom he had appointed;
but Ladislas still had his friends amongst the Roman barons. On the night of
June 17 a body of soldiers, headed by the Colonna, entered the city through the
broken wall near the gate of San Lorenzo and tried to raise the people. Gregory
XII, followed by his nephews, fled trembling into the Castle of S. Angelo. The
plot, however, failed, owing to the energy of the Pope’s general, Paolo Orsini,
who on the next day hastened with his soldiers from Castel Valcha to Rome,
joined the forces under the command of the Pope’s nephew, and drove the
conspirators out of the Porta di San Lorenzo with great slaughter. Many of the
rebellious barons and citizens were made prisoners, and some were put to death,
amongst them Galeotto Normanni, Ladislas’s unlucky “Knight of Freedom”. The
attempt of Ladislas had again failed. He had aimed at throwing Rome into
confusion, besieging Gregory in the Castle of S. Angelo, and so preventing his
journey to Savona. Dietrich of Niem, in his hatred of Gregory XII (whom he
calls “Errorius” — a bad pun upon “Gregorius”), does not scruple to say that i:
the Pope’s hasty flight into the castle was owing to confederacy in the plot.
But Leonardo Bruni, a more impartial and discriminating authority, refuses to
believe this of the Pope, but significantly adds that he has no doubt such a
charge is true against the Papal nephews. The feeble old man was used by his
relatives as the material for every sort of intrigue.
After the failure of this plot Rome rapidly quieted
down. On July I1 arrived the ambassadors of Benedict, and on July 5 those of
the French King, who had travelled by land; their colleagues, who came by
Benedict sea, joined them on July 16. They were told that Gregory was in a
state of doubt; the sight of the letters withdrawing obedience from Benedict,
of which he had received copies from Paris, made him, quail before this method
of dealing with Popes; he had received warnings not to trust himself to
strangers; his relatives plied him with suggestions that his departure from
Rome would mean the seizure of the Patrimony by Ladislas. In an audience given
to Benedict’s ambassadors on July 8 he first began to raise difficulties. He
said he did not see how he was to go to Savona: it was true the Genoese had
offered to lend their galleys, but he dared not trust himself to them; he could
not afford to equip six or eight galleys himself; he had applied to the
Venetians for ships, and they had refused them. He added also his dread of
Ladislas in case of his absence. On July 17 the French ambassadors offered him
themselves as hostages for his security, besides other hostages from Genoa;
they reminded him that the Genoese galleys had been sent at the request of his
own nephew. Gregory, in answering, disavowed his nephew, pleaded his
poverty, and suggested that the French King should supply him with ships
and money. At the request of the ambassadors the Cardinals endeavored to reason
with Gregory; but the old man’s mind kept vacillating from one point to
another, and the Cardinals could make nothing of him. The French ambassadors,
to cut matters short, offered him, on the part of the French King, six galleys,
with pay for six months: the Pope might put among their crews men of his own
for more security, and the captain of these galleys agreed to leave as hostages
his wife and children; a hundred of the chief Genoese citizens and fifty from
Savona should likewise be given as hostages. No fairer offer could have been
made. It is a proof how anxiously France desired the conference at Savona, and
the consequent advantage to herself in the new election. To gain that result
she was prepared to lay aside all punctilious feelings of dignity and pride.
Gregory was sorely put to it for a means of refusing this offer; he quibbled
about the exact wording of the treaty, which had stipulated the disarming of
the Genoese vessels during the conference; he rebuked his nephew for
imprudence, and disavowed what he had done; he said that he would willingly
accept the offer if he himself only were concerned, but the honor of all his
obedience would be compromised if he were to accept it. The Patriarch then
offered, if the Pope preferred to go by land, to supply means for the journey,
and put all the castles in the power of the French into Gregory’s hands for the
time, reserving the Genoese garrisons at present in them. Gregory evasively
answered that he intended to approach by land nearer to Benedict.
The French ambassadors, in an interview with the
Senator and magistrates of Rome, besought their assistance with the Pope, and
assured them that France had no wish to remove the Papacy from Rome. So fairly
did they speak, that one of the Romans said privately that it was well the
people did not hear them, or they would settle the matter by a sudden rising
against Gregory. Jean Petit pointed out that the extinction of the Schism would
restore to Rome its old prosperity, from the increase of pilgrims for
indulgences, and would secure it protection from Ladislas. Still neither
Cardinals nor citizens had any against Gregory’s greedy relatives; and the old
man, now that he was sure of political support, clutched at everything which
might keep him in office. On July 21, the ambassadors of Benedict asked for a
definite answer. Gregory pleaded the difficulties of going to Savona, and asked
that the place might be changed. The royal ambassadors suggested that Gregory might
send commissioners to the conference, or that the two Colleges of Cardinals
should be allowed to settle the matter. Gregory sent for D'Ailly, Gerson, and
others on July 28, and went through the weary round of equivocations and
excuses which he had been so long in practicing. D'Ailly answered him point by
point. At last the Pope burst into tears, and exclaimed: “Oh, I will give you
union, do not doubt it, and I will satisfy your King; but I pray you do not
leave me, and let some of your number accompany me on my way and comfort me”.
It seemed as though for the moment he recognized his weakness, and begged to be
rescued from his nephews’ clutches. But the nephews soon regained their power.
On July 31, Benedict’s ambassadors took their leave, with an uncertain answer
that Gregory objected to go to Savona, but would try to be there by November
1. Soon after the envoys of the French King followed, feeling that nothing
had been decidedly settled.
Soon Gregory himself found it advisable to leave Rome.
Not only his nephews, but also the Papal general Departure Paolo Orsini, played
upon the old man’s timidity and feebleness. Since the repulse of the
Neapolitans, Paolo Orsini had been too powerful in Rome. He obtained from the
Pope the vicariate of Narni and pressed him with demands for money to pay his
troops. Troubles within and without oppressed the luckless Pope, and he adopted
a course which he hoped would for a time rid him from both. By removing from
Rome, he would be free from the importunities of his greedy general, and would
also be able to make some show of proceeding towards the promised congress.
Leaving Cardinal Pietro Stefaneschi as his legate in Rome, he set out on August
9 for Viterbo. Thence, on August 17, he wrote to the King of France urging the need
of a change of the place of congress from Savona, and complaining of the
haughty tone of the French ambassadors, who, on their part, wrote to Gregory
from Genoa, repeating their assurances about his personal safety at Savona, and
expressing their objections to reopening the question of the place of congress
as likely to lead into an endless labyrinth of negotiations. From Genoa the
French ambassadors passed on to S. Honorat, whither Benedict had retired before
an outbreak of the plague. Benedict received them with the utmost affability.
In proportion as he saw Gregory raise difficulties he expressed eagerness on
his own part; he was too skillful a diplomatist not to see the advantage of
throwing the blame of failure on Gregory when an opportunity was offered. “We
are both old men”, he said to a messenger of Gregory’s; “God has given us a
great opportunity; let us accept it, when offered, before we die. We must die
soon, and another will obtain the glory if we protract the matter by delays”.
He assured the King’s ambassadors that he meant punctually to abide by the
treaty. Meanwhile Gregory moved from Viterbo to Siena at the beginning of
September. He succeeded in winning from the Cardinals permission to enrich his
three lay nephews without breaking his oath at election; in reply to a memorial
setting forth the sacrifices made and the losses sustained by them through
their labors for union, and the prospect which faced them of being rapidly
reduced to a private position, the Pope allowed them to hold various lands and
castles belonging to the Church.
The nephews seem also to have joined with Ladislas in
a scheme to terrify the already frightened Pope. Ladislas, on Gregory’s
departure from Rome, took into his pay Ludovico Migliorati, whom Gregory had
dispossessed of the March; by his aid, Ascolo and Firmo were captured, and
Ladislas showed himself ready to strike a blow at Rome. Gregory wrote to
remonstrate against the seizure of Ascolo and Firmo. Ladislas replied, in a
taunting letter, that he was keeping those cities for the Church. He reminded
Gregory of his objections to Savona as a place of congress, and sneeringly
suggested Paris as a fitter place. The nephews filled the Pope’s mind with
suspicions about his personal safety; fresh ambassadors were sent to press for
a change of place, and on November 1, the day fixed for the congress, Gregory
was still at Siena, and Benedict, with triumph in his heart, professed to await
him at Savona. Gregory, by way of doing something, issued indulgences to all
who should pray for the peace of the Church, and from the pulpit in Siena had
his reasons for not going to Savona set forth at length. His Cardinals urged
him to abdicate without going to Savona; and solemn agreements were made what
bishoprics he was to have, and what principalities were to be assigned to his
nephews, as the price of his retirement. More ambassadors passed between the
Popes. Benedict offered to advance to Porto Venere, at the end of the Gulf of
Spezzia, the southernmost extremity of the Genoese territory, if Gregory would
advance to Petra Santa, the furthest point of the Luccese. The negotiations
were endless and wearisome, and their general result is summed up by Leonardo
Bruni: “One Pope, like a land animal, refused to approach the shore; the other,
like a water beast, refused to leave the sea”. All who were anxious for the
union of the Church were weary of these perpetual hesitations. Cardinal
Valentine of Hungary had dragged his aged frame to Siena, in hopes of being
present at the extinction of the long Schism he was soon disillusioned,
and as he felt his strength failing him, and caught the hungry eye of Antonio
Correr cast upon his plate and horses, the old man rose in wrath from his sick
bed. “You shall have neither me nor my goods”, he said, and in the depth of
winter had himself conveyed to Venice, and thence home, where he died in peace.
Still, grievous as the delay might be from the ecclesiastical point of view, it
was the inevitable result of the over-reaching policy of France in urging the conference
at Savona. Germany, England, Venice, and Naples all looked on with suspicion,
and the vacillation of Gregory was increased by the feeling that he had
powerful support.
In January, 1408, Gregory moved to Lucca, where, under
pressure of the Florentines and Venetians, he wrote to Benedict, on April 1,
proposing Pisa as a place of meeting; he could approach it by land and Benedict
by sea, each in a day’s journey; it was well supplied with all necessaries, and
was preferable to the small fortress which had been talked of before. It was
now Benedict’s turn to raise difficulties, and he refused to give a decisive
answer. On April 16, the French ambassadors informed him that a personal
conference, on which he seemed to set so much value, was not necessary for the
purpose of a common abdication; if he considered it to be so, let him accept
the guarantees offered and go to Pisa. Before, however, this point could be
settled, Gregory took advantage of the disturbances in Rome to withdraw from
his offer and enter upon a new course of policy.
Matters in Rome had been growing worse and worse
Seizure of since the Pope’s departure. The designs of Ladislas were plain, and
there was no one in Rome to offer much resistance. Power was divided between
the Legate, the city magistrates, and Paolo Orsini, the leader of the troops.
None knew how far the other was in the pay or in the interests of Ladislas.
Disturbances and troubles of every kind came upon the city. On January 1, 1408,
the Legate imposed a heavy tax upon the Roman clergy, who met together and
determined not to pay it; meanwhile they determined not to ring their church
bells or celebrate mass. The magistrates put down this clerical rebellion by
imprisonment; mass was again said, and the tax had to be paid. But the
treasures of the churches were taken for that purpose; statues of the saints
and precious reliquaries were melted down into money. It was a hard winter, and
there was great scarcity of bread in Rome, which the Legate in vain tried to
ward off by processions, and the display of the handkerchief of S. Veronica. As
was natural, outrages became common; pilgrims were robbed and killed on their
way to the city. Everything was in confusion, and the only desire of the chief
men seems to have been to prepare the way for Ladislas. On April 11 the
Cardinal Legate, as a means of shaking off his own responsibility, called into
existence the old municipal organization of the Banderisi, who took an oath of
fidelity to the Church before the Legate, and received from his hands the
banners made after the ancient fashion. The restored officials had the
satisfaction of a few ceremonials, “to the great joy of the people”; but their
rule was brief. The old Roman Republic had been galvanized into existence for a
few days that it might endure the ignominy of surrender to the King of Naples.
On April 16, Ladislas, with an army of 12,000 horse and as many foot,
appeared before the walls of Ostia, which was traitorously surrendered to him
on April 18. On the 20th he appeared before Rome, and pitched his camp by the
church of S. Paolo. The city was still strong enough to resist a siege, but
supplies had been neglected, and everywhere were helplessness and suspicion.
Paolo Orsini began to negotiate with Ladislas, and the Banderisi thought it
wise to be beforehand with him. On April 21, Rome gave up to Ladislas all her
fortresses; the Cardinal Legate hastened to leave the city; the luckless
Banderisi resigned their office; and the government was placed in the hands of
a senator named by the King of Naples. On April 25, Ladislas entered Rome in
triumph and there was much shouting and magnificence. Ladislas had at length
obtained his end and made himself master of Rome. He stayed in the city for
some time arranging its affairs; he appointed new magistrates, received the
obedience of the neighboring towns, Velletri, Tivoli and Cori, and welcomed
also the ambassadors of Florence, Siena and Lucca, congratulating him on his
triumph. His troops advanced into Umbria, where Perugia, Orte, Assisi and other
towns at once recognized his sway. The craft of Ladislas had gained its end,
and the temporal power of the Papacy had passed into his hands. Many of his
predecessors on the throne of Naples had striven to enrich themselves at the
expense of the States of the Church, and to obtain influence in the city of
Rome. Ladislas had succeeded not through any wisdom of his own policy, but
through the hopeless weakness of his antagonists. The papacy was crippled and
discredited; the freedom of the city of Rome had died away. There was no
dauntless pope, backed by the public opinion of Europe, to oppose the spoiler;
there was no sturdy body of burghers to man the walls in defense of
the civic liberties. So utterly had the prestige of Rome and the memories of
her glories passed away from men’s minds, that her sister republic of Florence
could send and congratulate Ladislas on the triumphal victory which God and his
own manhood had given him in the city of Rome.
It would seem that the knowledge of the intentions of
Ladislas against Rome had stirred up the crafty change of mind of Benedict to a
scheme on his own behalf. Benedict had always had some adherents in Rome, and
is said to have spent large sums of money in raising up a party in his favor.
He managed to gain the favor of Marshal Boucicaut, the French governor of
Genoa, who sent out eleven Genoese galleys to forestall Ladislas and make a
dash upon Rome in Benedict’s behalf. The attempt, however, was too late, for
the galleys only sailed from Genoa on April 25, the day on which Ladislas
entered Rome. The knowledge of this bold design gave Gregory XII just grounds
for distrusting his rival; and he could rejoice that Rome had fallen before
Ladislas rather than Benedict. He could now plead Benedict’s perfidy, and the momentous
events which had happened in Rome, as reasons why he could not at present
proceed to a conference at Pisa. Political reasons had entirely overshadowed
ecclesiastical obligations; his nephews had completely succeeded in dispelling
from the old man’s mind any further thoughts of his solemn oath to promote the
union of the Church by his abdication. When a preacher at Lucca urged upon
Gregory, in a discourse before the Cardinals, his duty to labor for the
restoration of unity, the nephew Paolo Correr seized the indiscreet orator even
in the church, flung him into prison, and only released him on a promise never
to preach again. The legate Stefaneschi who had fled from Rome was received at
Lucca without reproof. Every one believed that Gregory had a secret
understanding with Ladislas, and that all that had occurred in Rome had been
done with his connivance, as a means of averting any further talk of a
conference. Ladislas expressed his intention of being present to assert his
rights at any conference that might be held. He urged on Gregory the further
step of nominating new Cardinals.
Gregory XII again plucked up his courage and prepared
to enter upon a new career, no longer as a “commissioner for unity”, but as a
Pope who was a political necessity to resist the policy of France. He spoke of
the proposal for his abdication as “a damnable and diabolical suggestion”; he
wrote to his envoy in France to desist from further negotiations; and resolved
to follow the advice of Ladislas, and strengthen himself for his new position
by the creation of a batch of Cardinals on whose support he might rely. This
raised the entire question whether Gregory XII was to be held bound by his oath
made at election; and the Cardinals, who still held by their former policy,
were strengthened by the advice of Florentine envoys in their determination to
resist the Pope. On May 4, Gregory XII announced to the nine Cardinals who were
with him his intention of proceeding to a new creation; he declared that the
events which had occurred gave him a just reason for supposing that the term
mentioned in his oath at election had been reached; he ended by naming four
Cardinals, two of them his nephews, one of whom, Gabriele Condulmier,
afterwards became Pope Eugenius IV. Wishing to cut off from the Cardinals all
opportunity of protest, the Pope ended by saying, “I order you all to keep your
seats”. They gazed in speechless indignation on one another. “What is the
meaning of such an order?” asked the Cardinal of Tusculum. “I cannot act
rightly with you”, replied the Pope, “I wish to provide for the Church”.
“Rather you wish to destroy the Church”, was the retort. By this time others
had recovered their courage. “Let us die first”, said the boldest of them, and
rose to his feet to protest. There followed a scene of anger and expostulation
which afforded Leonardo Bruni, who was present, an opportunity for
psychological study which the men of the early Renaissance keenly enjoyed. Some
grew pale, others turned red; some strove to bend the Pope by entreaties,
others assailed him with their wrath. One fell at his feet and besought him to
change his mind; another assailed him with menaces; a third alternated between
soothing his colleagues and supplicating the Pope. All was of no avail.
“Whatever I do, you oppose”, was the wail of the querulous old man. At last
Gregory dismissed the Cardinals with a prohibition to quit Lucca, to meet
together without his leave, or to have any dealings with the ambassadors
of Benedict XIII.
In vain the Lord of Lucca, with the chief citizens,
tried to make peace; and the Bishop of Lucca, who had been one of the newly
nominated Cardinals, was compelled to declare that, under the existing
circumstances, he would never accept the office.
Gregory XII persevered in his intention, and summoned
the Cardinals to a consistory, in which he was to publish his new creations;
when they refused to come, he performed the ceremony in the presence of a few
bishops and officials. The old Cardinals declared that they would never
recognize these intruders: they determined to leave Lucca, where they could not
be sure of their personal safety. On May 11, the Cardinal of Liege set the
example of flight. Paolo Correr sent soldiers to pursue him, while he himself
turned his attention to the seizure of his goods: when his men returned without
the fugitives, Paolo vented his anger on the Cardinal’s servants, till he was
checked by the city magistrates, through fear of the Florentines. Next day six
more of the Cardinals fled, and all assembled at Pisa, whence they sent Gregory
XII an appeal from himself to a General Council, and addressed an encyclical
letter to all Christian princes, declaring their zeal for the union of the
Church, the failure of Gregory to keep his promises, and their hopes that all
princes would aid them to establish the union which they desired. Gregory XII
replied by accusing them of sacrilegious intrigues against his person, and
constant hindrance to his endeavors after union. The breach was thenceforth
irreparable, and a war of pamphlets on both sides embittered the hostility.
Benedict meanwhile was not in a position to enjoy a
triumph over his rival. The assassination of the Duke of Orleans (November 23,
1407) deprived of his chief supporter in France, and the University of Paris
lost no time in urging the King to carry out the long threatened withdrawal of
obedience. The King wrote on January 12, 1408, to Benedict saying that he was
afraid the Schism tended to grow worse instead of better, and unless a union
had been brought about before Ascension Day next, France would declare her
neutrality until one true and undoubted Pope should be elected. Benedict had
long foreseen this step and was prepared for it. He wrote the King that the
threat of neutrality was equally opposed to the King’s honor and to the will of
God; he could not pass it over in silence; let the King revoke his decision, or
he would fall under the censures of a Bull which had been prepared some time
ago, though not yet published, and which he now enclosed. The Bull was dated
May 19, 1407, from Marseilles, and pronounced excommunication against all who
should hinder the union of the Church by measures against the Pope and
Cardinals, by withdrawal of obedience, or appeal against the Papal decisions;
the excommunication, if not heeded, was to be followed by an interdict.
On May 14, 1408, this Bull was delivered to the King.
It was Benedict’s last move, and Benedict had miscalculated its efficacy. He
hoped, no doubt, that the feeble-minded King, who, throughout all this matter,
had merely been the mouth-piece of others, would shrink before the terrors of
excommunication. He hoped that the disturbed state of the kingdom might make
politicians pause before they added to its other troubles a contest with the
Pope. But Benedict did not realize how the prevarications of the last few years
had destroyed his moral hold upon men’s minds; and he had not yet learned the
strength of the University of Paris. The Bull contained nothing contrary to
custom or to canon law, and the politicians in the King’s Council doubted what
to do; but the University had no hesitation. It boldly pronounced those who had
brought the Bull to be guilty of high treason, and demanded a public
examination of its contents. This took place on May 21, when a Professor of
Theology, Jean Courtecuisse, impeached the Bull as an attack upon the royal
dignity and the national honor, accused Benedict of promoting the Schism, and
declared him deserving of deposition. The University then presented their
conclusions, which denounced Benedict as a schismatic and a heretic, to whom
obedience was no longer due; his Bull should be torn in pieces, and all who had
brought or suggested it should be punished. The royal secretary cut the Bull in
two, and handed it to the Rector of the University, who tore it into shreds
before the assembly. Some of Benedict’s friends were imprisoned on the
suspicion of being previously acquainted with the contents of the Bull; even
Peter d'Ailly only escaped by prudently absenting himself from Paris. The University
again behaved with the same violence as it had shown in 1398, and even treated
with injustice some of its most eminent sons. Nicholas de Clemanges, as
Benedict’s secretary, was suspected of having written the Bulls, and
though he persistently denied it, he dared not enter France for some years, and
when at length he returned, it was only to end his days in obscurity.
Urged on by the University, the King proclaimed the
neutrality of France, and wrote on May 22 to Cardinals of both parties,
exhorting them to leave these Popes, who had not been able to find any place in
the world suitable for the discharge of their solemn oaths and for the relief
of the afflicted Church. Four of the Cardinals of Benedict XIII were sent to
Livorno to confer with four of Gregory XII’s Cardinals; the result of their
joint deliberations was that it was best to summon a General Council, before
which both Popes might resign. Benedict’s Cardinals affirmed that they were
commissioned by their master to accept this course; but Benedict denied that he
had given them any such power. He felt, however, that he was not safe from
personal danger in any land where French influence prevailed. He knew that
Boucicaut was again commissioned to seize him; and on June 15 he sailed away
from Porto Venere, accompanied by four Cardinals, and took refuge in his own
land at Perpignan, in the county of Roussillon. Still he retained his dignity
and his resolute will. Before his flight he wrote in a tone of lofty
remonstrance to Gregory; and as the cry of Christendom was now for a Council,
he issued a summons to a General Council to be held at Perpignan on November 1.
Gregory XII could do nothing but follow this example.
He proclaimed a Council to be held at Whitsuntide, 1409, in the province of
Aquileia or the exarchate of Ravenna. He could not be more precise, for he
was uncertain where he could find shelter. On July 12 he issued an appeal to
his rebellious Cardinals, offering them forgiveness if they appeared and asked
for pardon within the month of July. He did not, however, think it worthwhile
to stay at Lucca and await them. On July 14 he quitted the city; and two of the
Cardinals who were still with him took advantage of the opportunity to join
their colleagues at Pisa. Gregory went forth on his journey with a scanty band
of followers; only one of his old Cardinals still remained with him. He did not
know where it was safe for him to go, as disquieting rumors reached him that
the Cardinal Baldassare Cossa, legate in Bologna, had publicly burned his Bulls
and was raising troops against him. Finally he took refuge in Siena, which was
in close alliance with Ladislas. From Siena (September 17) he issued a Bull
revoking the legatine powers of Cardinal Cossa; it was a useless measure, as
Cossa had already sent in his adhesion to the Cardinals at Pisa. In September
Gregory created ten new Cardinals, and early in November left Siena for Rimini,
where he put himself under the protection of the powerful Carlo Malatesta.
Meanwhile the Cardinals at Livorno were agreed in
maintaining their policy, and on June 29 they entered into a solemn agreement
to establish the unity of the Church by a General Council, after the
abdication, death, or deposition of the two Popes. On July 1, Gregory’s
Cardinals issued a letter to his entire obedience, calling upon all to withdraw
from him and pay him no more of the dues of the Church, so that his obstinacy
might be conquered. When Gregory issued his summons to a Council, they declared
that under existing circumstances he had no right to do so, as the unity of the
Church could not be established by means of a Council held by either Pope.
Benedict’s Cardinals wrote in a similar strain. And finally, on July 14, the
united Cardinals issued to all bishops an invitation to a Council to be held at
Pisa, on May 29, 1409; and sent to all courts a request that they would take
part in it. The Venetians, Florentines, and Sienese sent ambassadors to attempt
a reconciliation between Gregory and his Cardinals. Gregory asserted that he
alone had the right to summon a Council. The Cardinals replied that he could in
any case only summon a Council of his own obedience, and not of the Universal
Church; yet, to show their desire for peace, they would receive him with all
honor. On October 11 they issued an address to all prelates who still adhered
to the Pope, calling on them to leave him and share in their pious undertaking.
Benedict’s Cardinals wrote, on September 24, and besought him to join with them
in summoning the Council at Pisa, and to recall his summons for a Council at
Perpignan. Benedict’s reply was characteristic of his legal mind: he wondered
at the steps they had taken without him; if they could show that their
proceedings were in accordance with the canons, he would, through love for
peace, agree with their wishes: meanwhile he could not revoke his Council, as
already many prelates were assembled; but, with the help of God and his synod,
he would soon frame a decree for ending the Schism.
Benedict’s Council met at Perpignan on November 1, and
was attended by about 120 prelates. The opening ceremonies went smoothly
enough. All listened with sympathy to Benedict’s justification of himself, and
account of all his labors to bring about the unity which he so much desired. A
commission of sixty, which afterwards was reduced to thirty, and again to
ten, was appointed to discuss this question. The Council dwindled away before
the commission had reported in favor of the abdication of Benedict, and the
sending of envoys to lay this proposal before the Council of Pisa. Benedict
received this report on February 12, 1409, and agreed to act upon it. Envoys
were nominated accordingly; but, through the misjudging zeal of the
French, they were imprisoned at Nimes, and were deprived of their instructions.
Benedict’s conciliatory temper passed away, and on March 5 he answered the
Cardinals’ summons to the Council of Pisa by a solemn excommunication of them
and their adherents.
The course, however, of the two rival Popes was run.
They had wearied out the patience of Christendom with illusory promises and
endless delays, till men had ceased to pay much heed to them, and their
obedience had dwindled away to the few who had a direct interest in maintaining
their power.
It is impossible not to feel sympathy for them both as
victims of circumstances which they had no part in creating. They lamented the
Schism, as did others, and would gladly have seen its end; but they were bound
to consider the dignity and rights of the office which they claimed to hold. It
was easy for those who framed crude plans for the solution of the difficulty to
lay all the blame of failure on the obstinacy of the Pope.
Gregory XII had been elected Pope on the ground of his
integrity of character and the senile weakness which was rapidly growing upon
him. The Cardinals sought to protect their own interests by the choice of a
Pope who would retain office only long enough to enable them to make a good
bargain for themselves; they forgot that the weakness, which rendered their
creature amenable to themselves, made him equally subject to the influence of
others who had more exclusive interests at stake. Gregory XII soon fell into
the hands of his nephews, who adroitly managed to identify his cause with that
of opposition to the influence of France. For a time Gregory XII had a position
in the affairs of Europe. But when once the plan of a congress at Savona had
been defeated and the Cardinals in despair undertook a revolutionary scheme to
restore unity to the Church, Gregory’s cause was abandoned and his position was
gone. In public matters Gregory XII was merely a puppet in the hands of others,
his Cardinals, his nephews, the King of Naples in turn; and his actions were
merely a series of subterfuges and pretenses; yet he himself retained his
simplicity and uprightness of character, so that many who disapproved his
conduct still reverenced the man. “I followed the Pope from Lucca”, says
Leonardo Bruni, “rather through affection than because I approved his course.
Yet Gregory had great integrity of life and character; moreover, he was learned
in the Scriptures and had subtle and true power of investigation. In short, he
satisfied me in all things save in the matter of the union of the Church”. We
feel pity, rather than contempt, for one of simple character who was set in a
position beset with difficulties and temptations which he had neither skill to
grapple with nor strength to resist.
Far different was the character of Benedict XIII. A
man of trained and vigorous intellect, strong character and indomitable
resoluteness, he failed through intellectual rather than moral faults. His mind
was too abstract and his point of view too technical; he dealt in a dry legal
spirit with a problem which concerned the very life of Christendom. He felt
from the beginning that, as a foreigner, he had scant justice dealt him in
France. He knew that he had no strong power to back him, no nation deeply
interested in maintaining him. He was keenly alive to the personal element in
all the proceedings of the University and Court of France, and he resented the
thought that the dignity of the Papal office should be impaired while in his
hands. His position was legally as rightful as had been that of Clement VII;
why should language be used towards himself that had never been addressed to
his predecessor? why should he be treated as a criminal and be subjected to
threats and persecutions? With dignity and astuteness he carried on an unequal
struggle. He was always ready with an answer; it was impossible to take him at
a disadvantage in argument. Wise and moderate men like D'Ailly and Clemanges
were on his side so long as it was possible, and regretted the violence of the
University, which gave Benedict no loophole whence to escape with dignity.
Moreover Benedict himself never showed obstinacy till the last, when his cause
was hopeless. While a prisoner at Avignon he issued no excommunications against
his foes, but bided his time patiently. He bore no ill will or rancour, and his
equanimity never gave way under the strain of the conflict. He was kindly to
those around him and inspired strong personal attachment. He was a genuine
student, a lover of books and of learned men, and was scrupulous in the
discharge of his ecclesiastical duties. His many good qualities are worthy of
admiration, and he had all the elements of a great ecclesiastical statesman.
Unfortunately the problem with which he had to deal was one which statesmanship
alone could not solve. Europe was weary of the Schism and France had no
interest in maintaining a Spanish Pope. Benedict XIII contented himself with
upholding the technical legality of his position against what he rightly
thought an ill-considered attempt on the part of the University of Paris to
solve a difficult problem by recourse to violent measures. The fault of
Benedict XIII was that he had no plan of his own for meeting the growing desire
for a union of the Church. It is his merit that he made a dignified resistance;
he maintained an unequal struggle, which prevented the settlement of the
affairs of the Church from falling into the hands of the unstable
government of France. A revolution headed by the Cardinals was preferable to
the political intervention of the French Court.
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