CRISTO RAUL. READING HALL THE DOORS OF WISDOM

THE HISTORY OF THE POPES

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF POPE GREGORY I THE GREAT. A.D. 540 – 604

BOOK I. CHAPTER VII.

THE LOMBARDS, 574-590

WHILE Gregory was going through his training in the monastery and at Constantinople, the affairs of the Lombards had not, on the whole, been prospering. After the assassination of King Cleph, there was an interregnum for ten years. Cleph's son Authari was a minor; and the rivalries of the Lombard dukes prevented their electing one of their own number either as regent or as king. Accordingly, for a period of ten years, each of the thirty-five dukes administered his own strip of territory according to his own liking, and without being held accountable to any superior authority. Of these thirty-five the highest in rank was Zaban, duke of Pavia, who took the lead in the joint deliberations and expeditions of the chieftains; six others were pre-eminent, viz. Wallari, duke of Bergamo, Alichis of Brescia, Euin of Trent, Gisulf of Friuli, Farwald of Spoleto, and Zotto of Benevento. The names and localities of the remaining twenty-eight are not given in our authorities, but the dukedoms probably corresponded approximately with the principal episcopal towns of conquered Italy.

Of the military operations during these ten years we have but scanty information. On the death of Pope John the Third, communications between Rome and Constantinople were apparently cut off, so that some months elapsed before the vacant bishopric could be filled. In the time of Benedict the First the Lombards swept over the whole of Italy. The invasion coincided with a severe famine, and many fortified places which had hitherto held out for the Empire were compelled by hunger to capitulate. Rome itself was in danger, but the Emperor Justin relieved the distress by forwarding large consignments of corn from Egypt. On the death of Benedict, again, Rome was in a state of siege, and Pope Pelagius the Second was consecrated without receiving the Imperial ratification of his election. Italy was being devastated by Lombard raiders, and an extraordinary rainfall caused unexampled mortality. Moreover, about the year 579, Farwald, duke of Spoleto, captured Classis, the wealthy port of Ravenna, stripped it of its treasure, and left a Lombard garrison in occupation. One would have imagined that such a calamity would have roused the Imperial Government to take vigorous action; but absolutely nothing was done. Longinus, acting possibly on instructions from the Emperor, confined himself to a policy of passive resistance. The embassies sent from Rome to Constantinople in 577 and 579 accomplished nothing material. The Government, absorbed in other interests, and unable to bear the cost of a war of reconquest, encouraged the loyal cities of Italy to stand firm, but submitted calmly to the loss of the rest.

But while the Imperialist cause lost ground, the Lombards, on their side, threw away a magnificent opportunity. Had the dukes during this period been able to come to an agreement and act in concert, it is probable that they might, with very little difficulty, have completed the conquest of the whole of the Italian peninsula. If a single duke, unaided, could plunder a town only three miles from Ravenna, and reduce Rome itself to the greatest extremities, it is surely not unreasonable to suppose that a compact confederacy of chieftains could have extinguished the last sparks of resistance, and driven the Imperial officers and troops clean out of the country. In this way there might have been established, on the firm foundation of an undivided Italy, a Lombard Empire, equal if not superior in strength to the Empire of the Franks. Unfortunately, the Lombard dukes were unable to rise to the occasion. Instead of concentrating all their forces for the systematic subjugation of the country, they remained isolated in their little principalities, prosecuting a petty, ineffectual warfare against their immediate neighbours, and avoiding one another with jealousy and distrust. Moreover, what was even worse than this, when on rare occasions they did, to some extent, unite their forces, it was only for the purpose of carrying on a series of irritating and futile campaigns against the Franks. The senseless folly of this policy need not be pointed out. The Franks, who should have been conciliated in every way, were needlessly exasperated; the prestige of the Lombards suffered; the valleys of Aosta and Susa, on the Italian side of the Alps, were lost entirely, while all the Lombard conquests were laid open to the danger of reprisals and invasions on the part of the people who had been so foolishly provoked. The blundering dukes not only failed to crush the enemies at home, but they went out of their way to excite the hostility of a dangerous neighbour—a hostility which the Emperor by bribes, and the Pope by admonitions, did their utmost to encourage.

Before long, even the dukes themselves began to realize their mistake. Their old foes the Romans, and their new foes the Franks, were coming to an understanding. The subject population of the conquered provinces of Italy, cruelly oppressed during the years of the interregnum, were eager to cast away the hated yoke. Their own forces were becoming increasingly disorganized. It was evident to all that, unless something was quickly done, the Lombard kingdom was doomed. Accordingly, in the spring of 584, the dukes met in council, and determined by common consent to revert to monarchical government. They elected as their king, Authari, son of the murdered Cleph, contributed half their possessions for his maintenance, and gave him the title Flavius, "which praenomen," says Paul, "was auspiciously adopted by all the succeeding Lombard kings." In this way the dukes hoped to make up for the blunderings of the last ten years, and to recover the ground which they had lost. But the great opportunity had been missed, and it never returned; the dream of a united Lombard Italy was never destined to be realized.

Flavius Authari was a prudent and vigorous young man, and he set to work with spirit to repair, as far as possible, the effects of the late misrule. The senseless invasions of Gaul were stopped; strenuous efforts were made to overcome the resistance of the Italian loyalists; the Lombard dukes were kept together and in a sort controlled; and the lot of the conquered population was rendered more endurable. Nevertheless, the king's position was one of great embarrassment. The hostility of the Franks, fanned by Imperial flattery, and by urgent appeals from the Pope, was a grave menace to his government. And at this very time, moreover, the Imperialists in Italy awoke into greater activity. In 584 or 585 the lethargic Longinus was recalled. The new Exarch was one Smaragdus—a vehement man, with a streak of madness in him, but a brave soldier and careful organizer, determined to make a name for himself by successful operations against the Lombards. The old policy of passive resistance by no means satisfied the new Governor. As carried out by Longinus, that policy, had been a conspicuous failure; Smaragdus, therefore, was all in favour of offensive measures. Between the Franks on one side, and the Exarch on the other, the crown of King Authari seemed in serious jeopardy.

When Smaragdus arrived in Ravenna, he found everything in great confusion. Time was imperatively needed to concert a scheme of action and make preparations. He therefore proposed to Authari to conclude a three years' truce, and the Lombard king, for his part, was not unwilling to fall in with the proposal. Hence it was not till 587 that hostilities recommenced. In this year, Euin, duke of Trent, swooped down upon the province of Istria, burnt and pillaged far and wide, and finally concluded a truce for one year with the Exarch, and so returned with immense booty to King Authari. On the other hand, Smaragdus was not without a triumph, for, by the help of a renegade Lombard duke, named Droctulf, he re­captured the harbour of Classis, which nine years before had been taken by Duke Farwald. The energetic Exarch would doubtless have done more, but, unfortunately, a violent attack of his malady necessitated his recall in 589. His energy and capacity, however, were recognized by the Government, as is proved by the fact that a few years later his appointment was restored to him.

In the spring of 590 a terrible danger menaced the Lombard state. For some time past a friendly understanding had been growing up between the kings of the Franks and the Byzantine Emperor. The Emperor hoped, by adroit flattery and liberal bribes, to induce the warlike barbarians to support his cause in Italy, while the Franks, on their side, flattered by the friendship of the Roman potentate, and greedy for his subsidies, were not unwilling to pay off their old debt against the Lombards, and at the same time to gratify the wishes of so powerful and wealthy an ally. Thus negotiations were entered upon between the powers with a view to joint operations in Italy for the advantage of both. In 584 (as I have noticed in the previous chapter) the Austrasian king Childebert, for a consideration of fifty thousand solidi, made a demonstration against the Lombards, but withdrew from Italy on the receipt of a huge ransom. The following year another expedition crossed the Alps, but this likewise proved abortive. In 588 Childebert, who had a special reason for wishing to conciliate the Emperor, equipped a third army, which, however, was so signally defeated by Authari, that only a few stragglers succeeded in getting home again in safety. These early invasions seem to have been carried through, strangely enough, without any co-operation or assistance from the Imperial troops in Italy; and the result of them was practically nil. In the year 590, however, an ingenious and elaborate scheme was carefully prepared. It was arranged that Childebert should send out yet another expedition on a larger scale than any of the preceding, and that the Exarch should co-operate from Ravenna. A junction between Franks and Romans was to be effected, and the combined forces were to storm Pavia, seize the person of King Authari, and exterminate the Lombards. The plan thus matured was a good one, and provided that the co-operating armies acted their parts loyally, there was every reason to believe that it would be crowned with complete success.

The Exarch Romanus (the successor of Smaragdus) opened the campaign in brilliant fashion by taking by assault the cities of Modena, Altino, and Mantua. Scarcely were these prizes won than a huge Frank army, officered by twenty dukes, burst through the passes of the Alps and poured itself into Italy. The invading host was originally split up into three divisions, led respectively by the generals Olo, Audovald, and Chedin. Olo, however, marched his division to Bellinzona, and, while besieging the place, was killed by a javelin hurled from the walls; immediately after his death his men broke up the siege and joined their comrades. Thus the three divisions very early in the campaign became reduced to two. Of these one led by Audovald and seven dukes moved southwards and laid siege to Milan; the other, under Chedin and thirteen dukes, pressed on in an easterly direction towards Trent.

For the Lombards the situation was critical in the extreme. It was impossible for them with any prospect of success to engage in open battle with these vast hordes, who were besides supported by the troops of the Empire. The only hope of salvation lay in holding the towns and allowing the enemy to devastate the country till they became weary and so disposed to consider terms of peace. Authari accordingly shut himself up in Pavia, and the rest of the dukes retired to well-provisioned fortresses and awaited the turn of events. Their policy was amply justified by the issue of the war.

The movements of Audovald are somewhat obscure. We hear of a skirmish by the River Tresa, wherein a Lombard champion was overthrown and a Lombard army put to flight. There is a story, too, that messengers arrived from the Exarch, announcing that within three days the Imperial troops would effect a junction with their Frank allies, and would fire a villa on a conspicuous hill as a signal of their approach. For six days the Franks waited watching vainly for the curling smoke. Then, believing that Romanus, on whose support they had counted, had met with some disaster, and finding themselves unable to capture any town, they struck their camp and returned ingloriously home.

Meanwhile the other division under Chedin moved slowly up the valley of the Adige towards Verona. A few towns surrendered to them—ten in the valley of the Adige, two in the Valsugana, and one near Verona. In most cases the inhabitants had received Chedin’s sworn assurance of good treatment; but the faithless Frank disregarded his oaths, and carried all the people into captivity. When the invaders reached the stronghold of Verruca, a place to the west of Trent, they were met by two bishops, Ingenuinus of Seben, and Agnellus of Trent, who came to intercede for the dwellers in the town. Even Chedin was impressed by the appeal of the brave churchmen, and consented to accept ransoms varying from one solidus to six hundred solidi per head. He then pressed on as far as Verona; but at this point he was compelled to stop. The troops could no longer bear up against the effects of the Italian climate. Dysentery mowed them down by thousands, and the sufferings caused by disease were aggravated by the pangs of hunger. A retreat was determined upon and commenced, but famine and pestilence still accompanied the army. In countless numbers the soldiers perished on the road; many gave all that they had, even their very arms and clothes, to procure bread; some ended their sufferings by a voluntary death. Of all the vast army a mere remnant—gaunt, famine-stricken, and half naked—succeeded in regaining the mountain barrier, and vanished away across the snows, leaving the Lombards and Romans to fight out their quarrel as best they might, without further aid or hindrance from beyond the Alps.

Thus the great invasion came to nothing. Except for the desolation of the Italian plains, it had no important effect. The country was of course frightfully ravaged, farms were burnt, crops destroyed, and men and women carried into captivity; but no important city was taken by the Franks, no important battle was fought, no serious damage inflicted on the Lombard interests. King Authari and his treasures remained safe in Pavia, and the dukes, sheltered behind their strong walls, had been able to defy the enemy with impunity. No one, indeed, had suffered much save the unfortunate Roman peasant population, who, equally with the Lombards, were treated as enemies by their nominal defenders. In short, the Franco-Roman project for the liberation of Italy was a prodigious failure, and it may well be asked—Whose was the fault? The Exarch, of course, laid all the blame on the Frank generals, who allowed themselves to be diverted from their main object by their lust of plunder; the Franks, on the other hand, put down their failure to the unpunctuality of Romanus. Probably both causes contributed to the disaster. But, however this may be, the great danger which overhung the Lombard state rolled harmlessly away. A peace was soon afterwards concluded between the Lombards and the kings of Burgundy and Austrasia; and it was many a long year before another Western army came defiling through the Alps to trouble Italy.

But although Authari was successful in repelling the Frank invasion, he nevertheless suffered some serious reverses at the hands of the Imperialists. In addition to Modena, Altino, and Mantua, Romanus succeeded in reclaiming for his master the important towns of Parma, Reggio, and Piacenza. In the duchy of Friuli also, where Gisulf, son of Duke Grasulf, favoured the Imperial cause, he made a profitable incursion. But the retreat of the Franks necessarily put an end to the Exarch's triumphs, and before very long all the conquered cities reverted to the Lombards.

We ought not here to pass over without notice a domestic event in the life of Authari, which became by-and-bye of considerable political importance. This was his marriage in 589 with the celebrated Theudelinda, a princess of Bavaria. The Lombards had a pretty story of the king's wooing, which is retailed by Paul as follows. Authari, wanting a wife, had first sent to King Childebert to request the hand of his sister Chlodosinda. Childebert accepted the proposal, but afterwards went back on his word and gave the princess to Reccared of Spain. Then Authari sent an embassy to Garibald, king of the Bavarians, asking for an alliance with his beautiful daughter Theudelinda, whose sister was already married to the powerful Euin, duke of Trent. Garibald was pleased with the idea of the marriage, and readily gave his assent. The young king, however, was anxious to judge for himself of the beauty of his betrothed. He accordingly selected a few followers whom he could trust, with an older man as apparent chief, and went in their company incognito to the Bavarian court. The second embassy was cordially welcomed by Garibald. The old lord who played the part of leader first made a complimentary speech, and then Authari himself stepped forward in the assumed character of ambassador, and explained that he had been commissioned by the king of the Lombards to look upon the face of the betrothed princess and make a report of her beauty. The unsuspecting Bavarian caused Theudelinda to be summoned, and Authari was enchanted with her loveliness and grace. "Truly your daughter is well worthy to be our queen," said he to Garibald; "fain would we now receive at her hand a cup of wine, even as we hope that we shall often do hereafter." So Theudelinda, at her father's command, brought a goblet and offered it first to the old lord and next to Authari. The king swallowed a draught, and in returning the cup, without being observed by any, he caught the fingers of the princess, and, while he made a low reverence, drew them over his face from the forehead downwards. When the audience was over, blushing Theudelinda told her nurse about the strange incident. "Assuredly," said the old woman, "he must be the king your suitor, else would he never have dared to do this. But let us be silent on the matter, that your father hear not of it. For verily he is a comely man, worthy to be a king and to marry you." Meanwhile handsome, yellow-haired Authari was on his way homewards, accompanied by an escort of honour which Garibald had sent to conduct his guests in safety to the frontier. When the boundary of Noricum was reached, and the Lombards were about to cross on to Italian soil, the king suddenly raised himself to his full height, whirled his battle-axe, and with incomparable dexterity sent it crashing into the trunk of a tree, crying as he did so, "Such is the blow that King Authari is wont to strike." Then the king and his people set spur to their horses and galloped away.

Soon after this King Childebert sent an army against Garibald, and, as seems probable, deposed him, setting one Tassilo in his place. Theudelinda with her brother Gundwald escaped into Italy, and sent a message to Authari, announcing her arrival. Then the king came with a great train and met his betrothed on the plain of the Lago di Garda, near the city of Verona. And in this town, on the 15th of May 589, the marriage was celebrated with great rejoicing.

Such is the story of the wooing and wedding of Authari, based, no doubt, on fact. There is one other story told of this prince, which is better known perhaps, but less credible. "It is reported," says Paul, "that the same king marched through Spoleto and Benevento, and conquered all that region, penetrating even to Reggio, the extreme town of Italy, over against Sicily.

Here it is said, rising amid the sea-waves was a certain column, to which Authari drew near on horseback, and driving his lance against it, exclaimed, 'Thus far shall come the boundaries of the Lombards.' And this column is said to have remained standing to this day, and is called the Column of Authari." This legend can scarcely be regarded as historical. Like the story of Alboin's climb up the Monte del Re, it is probably merely a popular explanation of a puzzling local name.

On the 5th of September in the year 590—two days after Gregory was consecrated Pope—King Authari died in the flower of his age at Pavia, having reigned only six years and a few months. There was a suspicion of poison, but of this nothing certain seems to have been discovered. Since Authari left no heir, there was some danger of another interregnum. Experience, however, had taught the dukes a lesson, and they made no fresh attempt to do without a king.

It will be convenient at this point to take a brief survey of Italy, and to give some account of the political conditions which prevailed therein at this moment.

Italy was divided into two parts, one of which still belonged to the Empire, while the other had been taken by the Lombards. Each of these parts, the Roman and the Lombard, consisted of three groups or sections—a northern group, a central group, and a southern group.

The principal Roman possessions may be reckoned as follows:—(1) In the north, Istria, Grado, the Venetian coast, maritime Liguria, and the towns of Padua, Mantua, Monselice, Cremona, Piacenza, Parma, Reggio, and Modena belonged to the Empire in 590. To these we must add the Exarchate of Ravenna and the Decapolis, which last consisted of the maritime Pentapolis—the cities of Rimini, Pesaro, Fano, Sinigaglia, and Ancona—and the inland Pentapolis—the cities of Jesi, Gubbio, Cagli, Fossombrone, and Urbino. (2) In the centre the Roman possessions included the city of Perugia, and the so-called Ducatus Romae, a district which stretched from Todi and Civitavecchia on the north to Gaeta on the south, and included practically the whole of the province of Latium. (3) The southern group comprised Naples, with a small surrounding territory, Sipontum on the East coast, Paestum and Agropoli isolated on West coast, the two provinces of Calabria and Bruttii, and the islands of Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily.

The Lombard territory falls in the same way into three divisions:—(1) In the north the Lombards possessed all the land except that mentioned above as belonging to the Empire. It was divided up into royal domain and a number of small duchies. Its centre was the city of Pavia, the seat of the Lombard kings. The function of the Lombards of this group was to guard against incursions of Franks, Avars, and Slaves, and to harry the territory of the Exarchate on its north and western frontiers. (2) In the centre was the powerful duchy of Spoleto, which menaced the Pentapolis on the north and the Roman territory on the west. (3) South was the duchy of Benevento, constantly encroaching on the Imperial possessions in Campania and on the south-eastern boundaries of the Ducatus Romae. The two duchies of Spoleto and Benevento tended to fall away from the rest and to become increasingly independent of the Lombard monarchy at Pavia.

As will appear from the above enumeration, the Lombards were masters of the interior of the country, while the Roman territory was situated on the sea-coast or by navigable rivers, Perugia being the only important exception to this rule. The Romans were still supreme upon the sea, and so long as their ships had access to a town, the place was able to hold out. Had the Lombards been wise, they would have devoted their energies to fitting out a fleet strong enough to overcome the Romans on their own element. The Imperial cities in Italy would thus have been deprived of their chief support, and must sooner or later have capitulated. But this obvious course never seems to have suggested itself to the Lombard dukes; at any rate, it was never put into effect.

We must now briefly consider the political conditions which prevailed in this divided country; and in doing so it will be best to deal first with the Lombard Italy, and then with those parts of Italy which yet remained in the hands of the Romans.

Lombard Italy.

The Lombards themselves were still in a rude state of civilization. Their appearance, as described by Paul, was not prepossessing. Wild-looking, shaggy-bearded men were they, wearing their hair close-shaven at the back, but parted on the forehead and hanging down over their cheeks in long locks. They wore loose linen garments with coloured borders, after the fashion of the Anglo-Saxons, and were shod with laced-up sandals. As regards their character, they were greedy, passionate, given to intoxication, and proverbially fierce in disposition, yet not entirely destitute of chivalry and generosity. In religion they were Arians—when or by whom converted, we know not. Some of them, however, or at any rate some of the tribesmen who came with them into Italy, were still pagan. We hear vague rumours of sacrificial meats and of the adoration of the head of a she-goat with accompaniment of barbaric chant and dance; and there are clear accounts of the sacking and burning of churches and monasteries—Monte Cassino among the rest—of the torture and murder of monks and solitaries, and of massacres of the Catholic clergy. It is evident that the Christianity of the Lombards did not prevent their putting Roman Christians to the sword when anything was to be gained by it. On the other hand, there appears to have been little strictly religious persecution of the Catholics, and there are indications that the inhumanity of the conquerors has been in some degree exaggerated.

Their political organization was imperfectly developed. The institution of kingship was not as yet felt to be necessary, nor was it hereditary. The kings, chosen for their noble ancestry and personal qualities, had comparatively little influence, and in many cases came to a violent end. They were sturdy warriors, well suited to lead their people on plundering expeditions and to adjust the tribal disputes, but ignorant of the rudiments of statecraft. Had Alboin or Authari been gifted with a fraction of the genius of a Theodoric or a Genseric, the whole course of Italian history would have been different.

As for the thirty-five dukes, they were rough, unruly chieftains, elected originally on account of their conspicuous valour, but tending to become hereditary feudal lords, somewhat after the manner of the aristocratic despots of the Middle Ages. As yet they were still mere soldiers, having their headquarters in their ducal towns, and supporting themselves partly by marauding expeditions and partly by the tribute exacted from the subject population. Tumultuous, ungovernable men, always engaged in murderous feuds engendered by their mutual rivalries and antagonisms, they were the principal cause of weakness to the Lombard monarchy and the chief obstacle to the consolidation of the power of the nation.

What chiefly concerns us here, however, is the state of the conquered Romans who remained on Lombard territory. This subject has been repeatedly discussed with widely different results. Some have maintained that the Romans were reduced to a condition of absolute servitude; others, oh the contrary, have held that in Italy, as in Gaul and Spain, the subject people retained their liberty, their laws, their municipal institutions, and part at least of their property; and between these extreme views almost every possible form of compromise has found an advocate. Nor are such differences of opinion altogether surprising, since the data for forming a judgment are meagre and insufficient. The history of the Lombards was written at least two centuries after the conquest, the materials which the historian had to work on were evidently scanty, his account of important events and even of whole reigns is often extremely brief and defective, and his object was simply to relate the most striking facts of which he possessed a record, without particularly concerning himself with the laws or political institutions of the people. These deficiencies of Paul, moreover, cannot easily be supplied from other sources. Gregory the Great has little which bears directly on the subject, the monastic biographies of the seventh century have still less, and the series of legal documents which throw so much light on the social condition of Italy in subsequent times are of doubtful value for the period now under consideration. Nor, again, can we argue with any confidence from the analogy of other countries, because the circumstances of the Italian conquest were very different from those of the conquest of Gaul, Spain, or Africa. In Gaul and Spain we may say, roughly, that the struggle with the Romans was soon over, and, the whole, or almost the whole of the country having become subject to the conquerors, there was little reason to apprehend a revolt of the Roman population; in Italy, however, owing to the partiality of the conquest, the danger of disaffection within Lombard territory was serious, and the escape of fugitives was rendered easy. So again in Africa the relation between the conquered population and the Vandals was clearly embittered by religious differences; but of this bitterness there is scarcely any trace in Lombard Italy. Thus, for want of definite and authoritative guidance, we are compelled to fall back on the hypotheses, more or less brilliant, of modern German and Italian scholars. To give a full account of these conjectures, however, would require a separate treatise. It seems best to me, therefore, to make no attempt to recapitulate the views of the authorities, but to confine myself simply to the theory which appears to account most satisfactorily for the facts.

In the first onset of the invasion the Lombards seem to have had little respect for the property or persons of the unfortunate Romans. When a barbarian had a fancy for a possession, he was accustomed simply to kill the owner and take the coveted object without more ado. Thus, as was natural, the wealthy suffered terribly. In the time of Cleph we read that "many Romans of distinction were either put to the sword or expelled from Italy": and during the interregnum the persecution of the aristocracy continued. This was the period of the terror. Cities were depopulated, fortresses destroyed, churches burnt, monasteries and nunneries reduced to ruins, and the trembling Romans expressed their candid opinion that the end of all things was at hand. But even wholesale murder and depredation could not go on forever. Though the Lombards had made away with the wealthy Roman landowners, there remained thousands of small proprietors, farmers and peasants, with whom it was necessary to come to an arrangement. This remainder, then, so Paul tells us, was divided up among the Lombard chieftains (ironically styled their "guests"), to whom they were made tributary, being compelled to pay over one-third of the produce of their holdings. With the reestablishment of the monarchy the position of the Roman population remained substantially the same, though the incidental hardships of their lot were in some degree alleviated. Paul tells us that, on the accession of Authari, the dukes contributed half their property for the king's endowment. Whether the conquered people changed masters or not is uncertain; but it is clear that they still had to pay the tribute as before. It does seem, however, that the authority of their over-lords was less harshly exercised during this period. "Truly," exclaims Paul, "this was a marvellous fact in the Lombard kingdom: there was no violence, no treachery; no one oppressed another with unjust exactions, no one despoiled his neighbour; there were no thefts or highway robberies; everyone went about his business as he pleased in fearless security." A little consideration, however, will show conclusively that, although the conquered Romans were more equitably treated under the monarchy, yet they were very far from the enjoyment of such a Golden Age of peace and comfort as our historian's lively fancy would delineate.

The arrangement about the tribute appears at first sight not unlike the famous tertiaram distributio of Odovacer and Theodoric, which, according to Cassiodorus, had such excellent results in fostering a friendship between the conquered and their conquerors. But there was one all-important difference between the Gothic and the Lombard assessment. According to the former, it was a third of the Roman land which was confiscated, the remaining two-thirds being left at the absolute disposal of the original owners to hold, or sell, or give away as they pleased. Thus the owners, when once their third part had been surrendered, were entirely free and independent. They could stay and cultivate the remainder of their land, or migrate into the cities, or retire into monasteries, without hindrance from the Goths. If they chose to remain, it often happened that local propinquity and community of interest engendered friendly relationships between the old landowners and the new settlers, to the advantage and happiness of both. And in this way the Gothic assessment created no lasting ill feeling between the two races, and was not generally regarded as burdensome. But the Lombard exaction was very different. By this arrangement the Italians were compelled to surrender a third part, not of their land, but of its produce. It is doubtful whether this third was of the net produce or of the gross produce, but most of our modern historians are now agreed that the gross produce is meant. In this case the Lombard master carried off one-third of the total produce of the Roman's soil, leaving two-thirds for working the farm and supporting the cultivator and his family. Of course, such an assessment would leave a very narrow margin of profit to the farmer, but this was, perhaps, the least of the inconveniences of the system. The Roman proprietor was no longer free; he could no longer migrate at pleasure, or dispose of his holding, or live on it in idleness. He was obliged to work day and night, that the tax on which his lord depended might be paid with regularity. He had become, in short, a serf bound to the soil, and his sole privilege was that this tax could not be arbitrarily raised.

Now, when we turn to the Lombard Codes, we find, on the one hand, a curious silence respecting the Romans, called by that name; but, on the other hand, frequent reference is made to a class occupying a middle position between freemen and slaves, and known as Aldii. As compared with the slaves, these Aldii might, indeed, be called free, but theirs was at best but a nominal freedom. They were entirely dependent on their lord, their service to him being regulated by customary law. Though they might possess property, they could not dispose of it without their lord's permission. In legal matters they were represented by their lord. The fines for injuring or killing them were paid to their lord, and through him also were paid the fines for crimes which the Aldii themselves committed. In short, the Aldii appear to have occupied exactly that position of serfs bound to the soil, to which, as we have seen, the Romans were in all probability reduced; and it is amid this oppressed and despised class that we must search for the unfortunate descendants of those magnificent Quirites who once had been proclaimed the sovereigns of the world.

The lot of the conquered was undoubtedly a hard one. We must beware, however, lest we depict their miseries in too lurid colours. As a matter of fact, the Lombards—at any rate after the re-establishment of the monarchy—appear to have treated the subject population with no extraordinary harshness. Gregory the Great, indeed, can say nothing too bad about the despoilers of his country; but Gregory's own letters furnish us with proof that the Lombard rule was less oppressive than he would fain make out. Thus we hear of Roman towns entering into negotiations with Lombard dukes with a view to becoming their subjects; and again of frequent desertions to the enemy of Roman freemen, soldiers, and ecclesiastics. In another letter the Pope complains that landowners in Corsica were compelled to take refuge with the Lombards in order to escape the intolerable burden of Imperial taxation. From such indications we may conjecture that the lot of the Aldius, though cruel enough, was, at any rate, not worse than that of the Roman Curialis. Doubtless in the long run it made little difference to the miserable provincial whether he was at the mercy of a Lombard chieftain or of the fiscal vampires of the Roman Empire.

Let us now glance at the political conditions prevailing in Roman Italy.

Roman Italy.

Imperial Italy, as has been already remarked, was at this period divided into three local groups, somewhat loosely connected with each other, and having each as its centre the principal city of the district. The centre of the northern group was the city of Ravenna; the centre of the middle group was the city of Rome; and the centre of the southern group was the opulent city of Naples. The principal official in the northern group was the Exarch, who resided at Ravenna, and exercised supreme authority over the whole of Roman Italy. In the central group there was no resident official of preponderating rank and influence, for the Duke of Rome did not as yet exist, and though there were always Magistri Militum moving about the district, some of whom appeared at intervals within the walls of Rome, yet these officers were not stationary, nor were they of sufficient importance to take the lead in the administration of the region. Hence, as time went on, the authority of the Pope increased, and, though the Exarch still continued to be the nominal ruler, the real power and government of the Roman district passed gradually into the hands of the Church. Again, the principal official in the southern group was the Duke of Campania, or, as he is otherwise called, the Duke of Naples, and this officer, like the Pope, owing to distance and the difficulty of communicating with Ravenna, tended to become practically independent. Of the islands, Sicily was under the jurisdiction of an independent Praetor, while Corsica and Sardinia belonged to the Exarch of Africa.

The administration of Italy at this time is a question of much difficulty. It was a period of transition. The old order was crumbling, and the new order was not as yet established. The old military-civil regime was rapidly giving place to one that was purely military; it was not, however, completely abandoned, but still persisted in certain districts and in certain departments of the administration. In the nature of things, of course, that rigid distinction between the functions of military and civil officers, instituted by Diocletian and Constantine and confirmed by the Pragmatic Sanction of Justinian, could not subsist when the tide of the invasion swept down upon the Italian cities. The military organization then became of supreme importance. Whole tracts of country were administered according to martial law. The military commandant assumed the control of affairs, and usurped the powers which under normal conditions belonged to the civil officials. Nevertheless, civil officialdom was not abolished. Prefects, Vicars, and Governors of Provinces existed still; but they were fast vanishing into the obscure background, and their place was being taken by the military functionaries on whom the salvation of Imperial Italy in the main depended.

We will deal first with the civil officers of Justinian's administration. Of these the most important were—the Pretorian Prefect of Italy, the Prefect of the City, the two Vicars, and the Praesides or Iudices Provinciarum, though these last were already on the point of extinction. Speaking generally, the function of these dignitaries in Gregory's time consisted in deciding judicial actions where the parties concerned were merely private citizens, in transacting financial business, collecting taxes, providing supplies, and possibly in keeping in repair the roads and aqueducts. Their sphere of competence had in many respects become diminished, but in the matters above specified their authority was still officially recognized.

At the head of the civil organization was the Pretorian Prefect of Italy, the most exalted of the Italian civil servants of the Emperor. Over the grandeur of this functionary, Cassiodorus had once waxed eloquent, finding his prototype in Joseph, vizier of the Pharaoh, while Eusebius, in a startling comparison, had likened the relation of the Prefect with the Emperor to that of the Divine Son with His Father. In bygone times the Pretorian Prefect ranked next to the Emperor's self. He had his official insignia—the purple mandye, silver inkstand, gold pencase, and car of honour; and upon his entry all subordinate officers fell on their knees, if not on their faces, in Oriental adoration. He had the supreme control of the administration of Italy. The Vicars of the Dioceses and the Governors of the Provinces were responsible to him, and were appointed or discharged at his recommendation. As supreme judicial authority, he was a final court of appeal, "judging everywhere as sovereign representative of the Sacred Majesty," and possessing the peculiar privilege of pronouncing sentence, not from a written judgment, but by word of mouth. As supreme financial authority, again, he was charged with all matters concerning the collection and distribution of the public revenue, the salaries of officials, and the commissariat of the troops. It appears that he even possessed some kind of legislative function, being empowered to issue edicts and to terminate law-suits without appeal. In short, except in respect of military con­cerns, the authority of the Prefect of Italy was well-nigh unbounded.

By the appointment of an Exarch, however, the Pretorian Prefect was relieved of many of his responsibilities. In Gregory's time he had lost altogether his legislative powers, while his administrative functions, though not entirely abolished, were greatly curtailed. On the other hand, he still remained the principal minister of finance in Italy, and his judicial powers were yet considerable. He ranked next to the Exarch, and enjoyed the special title of “Eminentissimus”, together with the more general one of “Excellentissimus”. He lived in some state at Classis, near Ravenna, kept up a large staff of petty functionaries, possessed considerable influence in the disposal of places and preferments, and called the civil officials to account, as in the old days. Thus the Pretorian Prefect was still a personage of consideration, though his power was on the wane, and before long became entirely absorbed in that of the Byzantine Governor at Ravenna.

Of the "Most Illustrious", "Glorious", and "Magnificent" Prefect of the City, I have already spoken in my account of Gregory’s official life. Here I need only add that this official continued in existence to the close of the sixth century. To be precise, he is last heard of in the year 599, when a certain Joannes held the office; after which there is no mention of the title for nearly two hundred years. In the last decade of the sixth century the City Prefect retained in his hands the greater part of the civil administration within the walls, presided in the courts over the trials of citizens, assisted the Pope in procuring and distributing the grain supply, and concerted plans of defence with the military officials. His powers, however, had become more and more limited owing to the encroachments of the Pope on the one side, and of the Magistri Militum on the other, and at the time when he disappears from our view he had become little more than a dignified minister of police, with a criminal jurisdiction.

Subordinate to the Prefects there originally existed two chlamys-robed Vicars, each with the rank of "Honourable" (Spectabilis)—one at Rome (Vicarius Urbis), who had jurisdiction over the ten southern provinces (viz. Campania, Tuscia and Umbria, Picenum Suburbicarium, Sicily, Apulia and Calabria, Bruttii and Lucania, Samnium, Sardinia, Corsica, and Valeria); and one at Milan, who governed the seven provinces of the north (Istria and Venetia, Aemilia, Liguria, Flaminia and Picenum Annonicarium, Alpes Cottiae, and the two Rhaetias). Whether these officers still existed at the close of the sixth century is doubtful. Gregory, in his correspondence, once makes use of the phrase “vicarius noster”, which may possibly contain a reference to the Vicar of the City: he also alludes to finance officials who acted for the Pretorian Prefect. It is only fair to observe, however, that the phrase “vicarius noster” is far too ambiguous to serve as the foundation of an argument, and that the financial representatives of the Prefect may have been merely special officers employed to levy tribute. Nevertheless, it is not improbable that the Vicars still existed, though with shrunken dioceses and diminished functions. If so, the Northern Vicar would have his head-quarters at Genoa, while the Vicar of the City would continue to reside in Rome. Both would be now occupied chiefly, if not entirely, with matters of finance.

The Governors of Provinces—the Praesides, or Correctores of the fourth century, or, as they were called in Justinian's epoch, the Indices Provinciarum—had not quite died out in Italy in the last decade of the sixth century. We know from Gregory's letters that there still existed a Index of Campania, resident apparently at Naples. A Index of Samnium is also mentioned, but this last, owing presumably to the incorporation of his province into the duchy of Benevento, had retired to Sicily, where he lived in such poverty that the Pope allowed him an annual pension of four solidi. We hear also of Iudices at Ravenna. But it seems that the civil administration of these provincial governors had passed away, and even their purely judicial functions must have been greatly limited through the extension of the jurisdiction of bishops and the growing practice of settling disputes by arbitration. Shorn of their dignities, the Iudices had become mere insignificant officials, and we find Gregory himself issuing his "orders" to one of them in a tone of calm superiority which he would never have dared to assume towards any political personage of the least importance. By the beginning of the seventh century the old Governors of Provinces had completely disappeared, and after that the title Index is applied to officials only in a general sense.

In the foregoing account I have dealt only with the heads of the old Italian civil service. The minor civil functionaries need not be discussed, for these were but administrative agents and continued to discharge their duties under the direction of the new military masters. Except for a change in the chiefs of the departments, the ancient system continued with but little alteration. Taxes must be collected, justice administered, and finance organized even under military rule, and therefore the army of minor agents—chartularies, judicial assessors, accountants, paymasters, chancellors, notaries, and clerks—were active in the accustomed routine long after the Prefects, Vicars, and Indices had suffered effacement. As for the latter, they are on the point of disappearing. There was no room for them in the Rome of the Middle Ages. And though at a later time their classic titles were in some instances revived, the antique functionaries who once had borne them were not restorable.

We pass now to the discussion of the military hierarchy. Like the civilians, the military potentates were ranged in a carefully graduated scale of rank. Just as, on the one hand, we find Prefects, Vicars, and Governors of Provinces, so on the other we get, each with their appropriate dignities and functions,—the Exarch, the Duces and Magistri Militum, and the Comites and Tribuni. We may briefly consider these officials in the order of their standing.

Supreme above all, both civil and military, was the Most Excellent Exarch. Ever since the time of Narses, the Exarch­-though not called by that title before the days of Smaragdus —exercised a viceregal authority throughout Imperial Italy. As head of the civil service, he superseded the Pretorian Prefect; as chief of the army, he held all the troops in Italy at his absolute command. He appointed to all military, and possibly to all civil, offices. He could make peace or war on his own initiative. The judicature, the administration, and—at least ultimately—the finances were under his control. He interfered even with ecclesiastical matters, though he had not as yet the right of confirming the Papal elections. His power, indeed, over the lives and fortunes of the Italian subjects was limited only by three things—the uncertain tenure of his office, the liability to be overlooked and checked by extraordinary envoys sent from Constantinople, and the right of appeal from the Exarch to the Emperor. These, however, were but slight limitations to what was for practical purposes an absolute despotism. The Exarch was dignified by the title of "Patrician," and not unfrequently held some important post in the Imperial Household. He resided at Ravenna, where he imitated on a small scale the elaborate ceremonial of the court at Constantinople. He was addressed by his subordinates in the language of exaggerated compliment, and his approach was the signal for Oriental prostrations, from which act of servility even the highest dignitaries were not exempt. When he made a state visit to any of the cities, the bishop and all the foremost citizens came out to escort him, and vied with one another in doing him honour. Endowed with such great powers and privileges, a capable and resolute Exarch might have pursued his ambition to almost any lengths, not without lasting effects on the history of Italy. Curiously enough, however, the early Exarchs were an inefficient set of men. With the exception of Narses (who did not bear the title) and of Smaragdus, not one of them gave proof of real ability or distinction. Surrounded by their cringing courtiers, these magnificent Byzantine satraps displayed to the world a sorry spectacle of muddle and mismanagement, and at the same time, by so doing, afforded the Popes a splendid opportunity of asserting themselves in the sphere of Italian politics. Thus the ineptitude of the Viceroys was the strength of the Church; and it was no idle claim that Gregory put forward, when he boldly asserted that he was superior in rank even to the all-powerful Governor.

Next in dignity below the Exarch came the Duces and Magistri Militum. These two offices may be here considered together, although it is not strictly correct to say that the titles are interchangeable. The Dux and the Magister Militum were both of them military officers; but while the former was a general who at the same time exercised civil administrative functions over a defined area, the latter was a general pure and simple, without administrative competence. The Dux was thus a military lieutenant-governor of the Exarch, in charge of a district; the Magister Militum was merely a commander of a division of the forces. Hence, while a single district could have but one Dux, there might be as many as four Magistri Militum stationed within the same ducal area. Such being the strict distinction between the offices, we nevertheless often find the same person addressed by both titles; for a Dux might leave his district and serve elsewhere as a Magister Militum, while, conversely, a Magister Militum might undertake the administration of a district in addition to his military duties, and so become a Dux. Thus the titles were frequently confused, and often both were applied to the same individual.

In Gregory's letters only two Imperial Duces in Italy are expressly mentioned—these being named sometimes after the city in which they had their head-quarters (e.g. Rimini, Naples), sometimes after the province which they administered (e.g. Campania). We cannot doubt, however, that of the many Magistri Militum here referred to, some discharged ducal functions. In Istria, for example, there was a military governor entrusted with the general administration and directly responsible to the Exarch—that is, in all essential respects, a Dux. Again, at Oderzo in Venetia there was a certain "Patricius," whose powers appear to be of the ducal order. So also the Magistri Militum stationed in important towns like Perugia and Sipontum, were doubtless in reality Duces, though they were not called by the title. In the territory of Rome, although we meet with several Magistri Militum in Gregory's correspondence, yet none of them was known as Dux Romae; nor does it seem probable that a Magister Militum with ducal prerogatives but without the title resided within the city walls. It is certainly possible that the territory beyond the city was administered by one of the Magistri Militum acting in the capacity of Dux. But this is mere conjecture, unsupported by a shred of evidence.

The Dux was supreme within the area of his command. He disposed the troops and controlled the civil officers, dispensed justice, managed the finances, and interfered even in matters ecclesiastical. He had his official staff—his chartulary, notary, majordomus, and the rest, and aped the state of the Exarch, just as the latter aped the state of the Emperor. The Dux, indeed, on a small scale and in respect of his own district, had a position similar to that which the Exarch enjoyed in respect of the whole of Italy. He was appointed by the Exarch, to whom also he rendered his accounts, but he tended more and more to emancipate himself from the Exarch's authority and to become independent.

Lastly, below the Duces and Magistri Militum rank the Tribuni and Comites. These last titles appear to have been pra­tically interchangeable. The Tribune or Count was a military officer with civil powers, appointed by the Exarch to take charge of a single town, and administer it as Governor. On one extraordinary occasion a Tribune was sent by the Pope to look after the city of Naples. The position and influence of these officers, however, in comparison with that of the Duces or Magistri Militum, was insignificant.

I will close this brief account of the political organization of Imperial Italy with a few remarks upon the survival of the Roman Senate and of the local Curiae.

First, as to the Roman Senate. "Whatever is the flower of the human race, the Senate ought to possess it; and as the citadel is the crown of the city, so should your order be the ornament of all other ranks." The senatorial ideal, thus expressed by Cassiodorus, can scarcely have survived in reality after the Gothic War. The Senators who escaped the Gothic massacres and reassembled in the ancient Roman Senate House, can have been but a poor remnant of a once august body; and even of these few a considerable proportion doubtless took advantage of Justinian's permission to migrate to Constantinople, or to settle in Sicily and elsewhere. Nevertheless, a small body, reinforced possibly by new members of plebeian extraction, did reconstitute itself as the Senatus Romanus, and was by Justinian assigned the function of superintending the weights and measures. Apparently the Senate still existed in 579, when certain Roman Senators were sent on an embassy to Constantinople. From this date, however, till 757, when the word "senatus" reappears in documents, history preserves a profound silence respecting the ancient Curia. From 579 onwards the Senate appears to have taken no part in any important event. It is not mentioned as participating even in the Papal elections. During the negotiations between Gregory and Agilulf, in 599, not a word is said of the concurrence or interference of the Senate. Among the Papal envoys to Constantinople, Ravenna, Pavia, or other courts, among the plenipotentiaries appointed to settle affairs of war or of peace, among the recipients of the charity of the Roman Church, among Pope Gregory's personal advisers, friends, or correspondents, there does not appear the name of a single member of the Roman Senate. The venerable assembly is absolutely ignored. Only in one extract from an unknown chronicler (repeated by John the Deacon) it is stated that when the images of the Emperor Phocas and his wife Leontia were brought to Rome, in 603, they were carried into the great hall of the Lateran, amid acclamations ab omni clero vel senatu." But this is, to say the least, a very dubious piece of evidence to set against the significant silence of all historians.

Had, then, the Senate ceased to exist? This is at once the simplest and most satisfactory way of accounting for the extraordinary reticence of our authorities. Surely it is incredible that so venerable an institution, had it continued to subsist even in the form of a mere civic corporation, should have been so completely ignored. The theory of its extinction alone explains the reserve of the historians. At the same time, this theory is rendered the more probable by the positive statements of Agnellus of Ravenna and Gregory the Great. Of these, the former reports that after the coming of the Lombards the Roman Senate gradually sank into decay; while Gregory, in one of his homilies exclaims, "Where is the Senate? Where are the People? ... All the glory of earthly dignity has expired from the city. All her greatness has vanished ... Because there is no Senate, the People perished." This last is admittedly a rhetorical passage. But could Gregory have spoken thus had the Senate been still flourishing, though only as a municipal corporation? And would not his words have more point if we imagine them applied to a venerable institution, which, though possibly not even yet quite dead, was at least in articulo mortis, doomed to vanish utterly within the space of a few years? This seems to be the most reasonable conclusion. The Senate received a death-blow during the Gothic War. It lingered on, however, for a time—certainly till 579—but about the year 590 it passed away forever. The reappearance of the name in documents of the eighth century was probably nothing more than the revival of a classic form and title, associated with the glorious age of Rome, and adopted at a time when that city had shaken herself free from the yoke of Byzantine despotism. The old name of dignity was then applied to the Roman aristocracy as a title of honour, but it had no real significance. The ancient society of the Conscript Fathers was dissolved, and was not reconstituted.

While the Roman Senate thus became extinct, the municipal constitutions of the Italian towns lasted on well into the seventh century. The chains forged by Theodosius and Justinian for the wealthy provincials were too strong to be broken even by such an event as the Lombard invasion. The unfortunate curiales, condemned by the Imperial Government to a service that was worse than slavery, were unable, even in the ferment of Italian affairs, to shake off their oppressive yoke or rid themselves of their obligations to the Imperial treasury. Gregory himself acquiesced in their oppression, and debarred from ordination all who were under liability to the Curia.

In Gregory's correspondence reference is made to at least two municipal functionaries—the Defensor and the Curator Civitatis. Of these the former is mentioned by Gregory only thrice. He seems to have exercised judicial functions, and the public causes of his corporation were entrusted to his care. Records were kept of his judicial acts and decisions. He held office for two years, and seems to have been the most important magnate of the Curia. The Curator Civitatis, called also Major Populi and Patronus Civitatis, is also referred to by Gregory. This official corresponded somewhat to our modern mayor. He presided over the Curia, superintended all the municipal affairs of his town, regulated the markets, provided supplies, and looked after the interests of the citizens. He was also, it appears, concerned in matters of local finance. In Gregory's time he was still a person of considerable influence, and we find the Pope treating with him about making a peace, and again requesting him to provide a military escort for the wife of a friend. These officials, however, like the civil dignitaries of higher rank, were being gradually superseded by the military and ecclesiastical authorities. Though they continued to discharge their functions within a limited sphere, they can scarcely have been a very important factor in the life of the provincial towns. The real forces of the time were the Army and the Church.

I have endeavoured to give some short account of the political condition of Italy at the close of the sixth century. This account was necessary for the correct understanding of the events of Gregory's later life. I now resume the biography of Gregory, taking up the thread at the year 586, the date of his return to Rome from Constantinople.

BOOK I. CHAPTER VIII.

THE ABBAT