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 II. CHAPTER VI

GREGORY AND THE LOMBARDS

King Authari, it will be remembered, died on the 5th of September in the year 590. He left no children behind him, nor was there any member of the royal house sufficiently eminent to be marked out for the succession. The Lombards, however, were determined that there should not be another interregnum, and, by a very simple expedient, they made provision for the continuance of the monarchy. “Then all the Lombards,” says Paul, “since Queen Theudelinda pleased them well, decided that she should remain queen, and that whosoever of the Lom­bards should be chosen by her as husband should wear the royal crown.”

Now, among the guests who had attended Theudelinda’s wedding at Verona in 589 was a certain Agilulf duke of Turin. During the festivities a thunderstorm had occurred, and a tree in the palace garden had been struck by lightning. On this one of his servants, who was a magician, had told Agilulf, secretly, “The woman who has just been married to our king will soon be married to you.” The duke, alarmed lest Authari should hear of this indiscreet disclosure, threatened to cut off the servant’s head if he said any more of the matter; but the magician replied, “ You may kill me, but the foreign woman will assuredly become your wife.” Eighteen months later the prophecy was fulfilled. Theudelinda, casting about for a new husband, called to mind the handsome, soldier-like man she had once seen at Verona, and sent him word to come to her. In her impatience she even went out to meet him as far as the village of Lomello, some twenty miles from Pavia. When the duke arrived, and the first greetings had been exchanged, the queen called for a goblet of wine, and, after tasting it herself, ordered it to be carried to Agilulf, who, still uncertain of her meaning, received the cup and knelt to kiss her hand. Then Theudelinda, blushing and smiling, said, “He ought not to kiss the hand who should rather kiss the lips”; and with these words she raised him up and kissed him, telling him that she had chosen him to be her husband and to share her throne. So the marriage was celebrated with great rejoicing, and in the November of this year Agilulf began to reign. His formal installation as king, however, did not take place until six months later, at Milan.

This pretty story must not, perhaps, be taken as literal history. Paul loved to collect the legends of his people, and the accuracy of his narratives cannot always be depended upon. A sentence in the chronicle entitled Origo Gentis Langobardorum, seems to imply that the initiative was taken by Agilulf: “And Aequo, the Thuringian duke, went forth from Turin, and joined himself to Queen Theudelinda, and was made King of the Lombards.” This duke may possibly have been an ambitious man, who married the queen in order the more easily to gain the crown; while Theudelinda, on her side, may have thought it expe­dient to associate with herself, both in matrimony and royalty, the principal claimant to the sovereignty of the Lombards. The manner in which the union was brought about is not, however, of great importance. The marriage itself was a happy one, and turned out greatly to the benefit of the Lombard people.

The new king is a somewhat shadowy figure in history. Of his personal character we know hardly anything, and we are left to make conjecture about his qualities from the bare narrative of his exploits. He seems to have been a strenuous man, with iron will and clear intelligence, a spirited soldier, and a fairly able ruler. Though not by any means a hero of romance, he was endowed with plenty of sound sense and solid worth. He knew how to keep in order his unruly Lombards, and how to prosecute a fair, if somewhat cruel, war against his Roman foes. The personality of his wife, however, is far more inte­resting. Indeed, of all the royal ladies whom the sixth century produced, this queen is the one who most attracts our sympathy and our admiration. And yet this period was prolific in examples of remarkable women. There was Queen Chlotilda—though her work belongs strictly to the last decade of the fifth century—who persuaded Clovis and his Franks to embrace Catholic Christianity. There was Bertha of Kent, who helped forward the conversion of Britain. There was Brunichildis, a woman of astonishing power and no less astonishing wickedness; and Theodora, the immoral pantomimist, who won the heart of Justinian and gained an Empire; and Fredegundis, brilliantly clever and atrociously vile. But among all these there was no woman of greater ability than Theudelinda, and none with a tithe of the amiable qualities which made this Lombard queen beloved, not only by her own people, but even by her natural enemies the Romans. Theudelinda is, in fact, the heroine of the sixth century. The daughter of the Bavarian Garibald, she was connected, through her mother Walderada, with the old Lombard kings, and herself influenced in a remarkable manner the destinies of the nation. Her beautiful face and graceful figure enchanted Authari; her goodness, wisdom, and gracious bearing captured and retained the affections of the people whom she ruled. By her—if Paul's story is true—the state was saved, on the death of Authari, from relapsing into anarchy. Through her influence the bitter feelings that subsisted between Lombards and Romans were soothed and mitigated. By her means the Arian Lombards were led eventually to embrace the Catholic faith. The wife of two kings and the mother of a third, Theudelinda presided over her people as their good genius for more than a quarter of a century, and long after that her name was held in deepest reverence. Her memory even now is green in the little town of Monza. Here she built a palace, adorned with paintings of heroic deeds, wherein the old Lombards were represented in their ancient dress, and with long love-locks hanging down about their faces. Here, too, she built the Church of St. John the Baptist, enriching it with many precious ornaments of gold and silver. And in the treasury of this basilica there may yet be seen, amid other objects of interest, an antique comb, a crown, and some golden chickens, which are said to have once belonged to Theudelinda.

When Agilulf became king, his first care was to put himself on terms of friendship with his neighbours beyond the Alps. One embassy to the Franks had already been sent by Authari, and a second, immediately after the death of that king, by the Lombard chiefs. Now for the third time ambassadors were sent to the Australian court. Euin duke of Trent went as Agilulfs representative, and Agnellus bishop of Trent was entrusted with the special mission of treating for the restoration of the prisoners that had been carried off by the invading host of Chedin. Agnellus, it seems, was only partially successful, but Euin had no difficulty in arranging an agreement. King Childebert, weary of prosecuting a war which he had undertaken chiefly at the solicitation of the Emperor, was very glad to conclude a peace, which, with slight interruptions, was destined to last for a century and a half—until, indeed, the exigencies of the Popes caused them to summon a new dynasty of Frankish kings to deliver them from the yoke of the “unspeakable Lombards.”

Having thus secured himself against external foes, Agilulf next turned his attention to the reduction to obedience of his own rebellious subjects. The most important of these were Mimulf, who gallantly defended himself in the island of S. Giulio in the Lake of Orta, Gaidulf duke of Bergamo, and Ulfari duke of Treviso. All three were subdued, not without difficulty, and at last the Lombard king was free to turn his arms against the Empire.

So long as Agilulf was engaged upon his own affairs in the north, the Romans had no immediate danger to apprehend from that quarter. Nevertheless, the Roman territory, on its eastern and southern frontiers, was exposed to the perpetual peril of invasion by the Lombards of the two great southern duchies. The north-eastern frontier was threatened by the Duke of Spoleto, who further endeavoured to cut off communications between Borne and Ravenna along the Via Flaminia, which passed through Spoleto. The southern frontier was harassed by the Duke of Benevento, who, on his part, intercepted communications between Rome and Brindisi along the Via Appia. The predatory incursions of these two chiefs and their savage attacks on the outlying towns and villages, kept the inhabitants of the Roman Ducatus in a state of constant alarm, and the difficulty of communication with the Imperial authorities naturally added to their embarrassment and distress.

In the year 591 Zotto and Farwald, dukes of Benevento and Spoleto, both died. Zotto was succeeded by Arichis, a native of Friuli, and a kinsman of Duke Gisulf. In Spoleto one Ariulf was made duke—an energetic man, about whom there is a curious story, which, though it refers to a later time, may for convenience be related here. After a battle at Camerino, in which the Imperialists had been routed, Duke Ariulf inquired of his soldiers who the warrior was whom he had seen fighting among them with such conspicuous bravery. They said, “ There was none braver than yourself.” “Nay,” replied Ariulf, “there was a better man than I, who protected me with his shield whenever the enemy wished to strike me.” Soon afterwards they came, in their march, to a stately basilica, which, on inquiry, Ariulf learned was named after St. Sabinus,“ whose help the Christians are wont to invoke when they go forth to war.” The duke, who was a heathen, marvelled how any one could believe that a dead man could help the living, but on fte impulse of curiosity he dismounted and went to inspect the church. As he wandered round the aisles, looking at the mosaics which decorated the walls, he came suddenly on a portrait of St. Sabinus himself. The duke stared at it with amazement, and then exclaimed with an oath, “Why, that is the face, and that is the figure of the man who protected me in the fight.”

With these three kings, then (for the great dukes had all the attributes of kingship save the title)—Agilulf at Pavia, Ariulf at Spoleto, and Arichis at Benevento—the newly created Pope Gregory was called upon to deal.

At the very commencement of his pontificate the Pope was made sensible of the extreme difficulty of his position. “Out­side the walls,” he wrote to a friend in Sicily, “we are without ceasing smitten by the swords of the enemy. Inside we are threatened with a still graver danger—a sedition of the soldiers.” The latter peril seems for a time to have been averted, probably by a distribution from the treasury of the Church; but the ravages of war continued. The town of Mintumae, on the extreme southern border of the Roman territory, was reduced to desolation by the Lombards of Benevento, and nearer Rome the Lombards of Spoleto became increasingly bold in their aggressions. “For my sins,” wrote the Pope, “ I find myself bishop, not of the Romans, but of the Lombards, whose promises stab like swords, and whose kindness is bitter punishment.” Meanwhile the Exarch Romanus was at Ravenna, doing nothing but sulk over the miscarriage of his plans in connection with the Frank invasion. Occasional communications passed between him and Gregory, but the latter seems neither to have asked nor to have received any military aid. Probably he had already gauged the character of the Imperial Governor, and knew that any operations against the enemy in the Roman district must be conducted independently of assistance from Ravenna.

The year 591 was marked by a long drought, which lasted from January till September, and was followed by a famine. During this time the Lombards contented themselves with somewhat desultory warfare. We read of monks in Bruttii being driven from their convents, and of numbers of people in Campania fleeing, “through stress of barbarian ferocity,” to the little islands off the coast? Meanwhile the pestilence of 590 still raged. It was particularly violent in the Umbrian town of Narni, and the Pope, as we have elsewhere noticed, directed the bishop of the place to take advantage of the terror caused by the visitation, and persuade the heretics of his diocese to return to the Catholic faith.

In August a famine seemed imminent in Borne, and Gregory ordered his agent in Sicily to purchase grain, over and above the usual quantity, to the value of fifty pounds of gold, and to arrange for its transmission to Rome by the following February. “There has been such a scanty crop,” he wrote, “that unless by God’s help corn can be collected from Sicily, there is a serious danger of famine.” The failure of the harvest was, of course, an additional inducement to the Lombards to pillage the property of their Boman neighbours, and towards the end of September tidings reached the Pope that Ariulf of Spoleto was making preparations for a great campaign, though it was still uncertain whether the object of his attack was to be Rome or Ravenna. Gregory instantly took measures for resistance. It seems that at various places on the Roman frontiers, there were no fewer than four Roman generals, each with a small force, engaged in watching Ariulf’s movements. To the chief of these, Velox, Gregory sent the following letter: “We informed your Glory some time ago that soldiers had been made ready to go to your parts, but since your letter signified to us that the enemy had collected, and was marching in our direction, we by reason of this detained them here. Now, however, it seems desirable that some of the troops should be sent to you. We therefore beg your Glory to admonish and exhort them to prepare themselves for toil. And when you have an opportunity, confer with our glorious sons Martius and Vitalian, and do whatever with God’s help you shall jointly decide to be for the advantage of the Republic. Should you learn that the unspeakable Ariulf is moving in this direction, or to the parts about Ravenna, do you get to work in his rear as becomes brave men, that your activity may still more increase your renown in the Republic.” Gregory’s plan seems to have been that, so soon as Ariulf set foot in Imperial territory, the Roman generals should co-operate to ravage the neighbourhood of Spoleto, thus forcing him to return for the protection of his own country. These precautions, however, turned out to be unnecessary. Ariulf, whether unwilling to face the combined forces of the Romans, or detained by domestic affairs, put off his expedition, and permitted the Pope to spend the winter in peace.

Meanwhile Gregory began to feel considerable anxiety respecting the security of his northern frontier. An invasion from the side of Tuscany was to be expected before long, and the Roman lines of defence were sadly inadequate. One particularly weak spot was the small Etrurian town of Nepi, some thirty miles to the north of Rome, in which there was not even a resident governor to organize resistance to the coming invasion. The imminence of the danger which was to be apprehended from this quarter, induced Gregory to venture upon an action which was extraordinarily bold, and which, indeed, can only be justified by the pressure of necessity. He actually presumed, on his own initiative, to appoint a military governor in Nepi, and he addressed to the clergy, senate, and people of the place, a letter, couched in authoritative terms, such as none but the Exarch had a right to make use of. “To the most honourable Leontius, bearer of these presents, we have entrusted the responsible duty of taking care of your city, that by his vigilance in all things he may make such arrangements as shall be for your advantage and for that of the Republic. We therefore admonish you by these presents to render him in all things due obedience; and let no one dare to despise him when he is toiling for your benefit. For whosoever resists his lawful commands will be deemed a rebel against us, and whoever obeys him will be obeying us. If any should venture—as we do not expect will be the case—after this admonition, to treat Leontius with contempt, let him clearly understand that he will do so at his peril.”

On account of the tone and tenour of this letter, some have imagined that the town of Nepi itself belonged to the Boman Patrimony, and that Gregory on this occasion was merely issuing his orders as landlord to his tenants. But there is not a shred of evidence which can be produced in support of this hypothesis. I prefer, therefore, to explain the letter rather in view of the circumstances in which Gregory was placed. Communications between Borne and Ravenna were constantly interrupted, and there was no duke or high official permanently stationed in the Boman territory. The generals who hovered about upon the frontiers seem to have been practically independent; at any rate, they were subject to no controlling authority on the spot. Circumstances thus combined to force the Pope into the position of leader. His high position, his enormous resources, his energetic character, the respect which he inspired, all marked him out as the man who ought to undertake the general control. And this no one realized more clearly than did Gregory himself. He certainly did not hesitate to take command. We see him, now giving instructions to the generals, now despatching forces and supplies here and there as he thinks proper, or, again, appointing military governors to fortresses within the Boman district. The situation in which he found himself was peculiar, and Gregory availed himself of it to commit acts such as even the greatest of his predecessors under the weakest of the Emperors would scarcely have dared to venture upon.

In the summer of 592 the danger from Spoleto again seemed imminent, and Gregory wrote to the generals, Maurice and Vitalian, expressing his fear of an immediate invasion, and reiterating his former directions about the tactics which they ought to pursue. “If the enemy should make an advance hither, let your Glory also, as you have been accustomed, do what you can in his rear. For we hope in the power of Almighty God and of the blessed Peter, on whose festival they wish to shed blood, that they will find him too opposed to them, and that immediately.”

Scarcely had these instructions been despatched than than Ariulf himself. This document appears to have been written in menacing terms, and was doubtless intended to over­awe the resolute Pope. To emphasize the hopelessness of resist­ance, Ariulf signified that the outpost town of Suana in Etruria —identical with the modem village of Sovana, famous as the birthplace of Pope Gregory the Seventh—had made a solemn engagement to surrender to him. Gregory was doubtful of the truth of this intelligence. However, he sent off a courier to Maurice and Vitalian, requesting them to investigate the matter. If it was found that the people of Suana were still loyal, hostages were to be taken from them, and new oaths of fidelity to the Empire exacted. If, on the other hand, Ariulf’s information proved to be correct, Gregory hardly knew what course to recommend. As a Christian bishop, he could not in conscience urge them to be false to their oath; yet as a loyal servant of the Emperor, he could not quietly allow the town to be given over to the enemy. He endeavoured to escape from the difficulty by throwing the responsibility of a decision upon the generals. “Should you ascertain beyond doubt that the people of Suana have treated with Ariulf about surrender, or at any rate have given him hostages (as Ariulf’s letter, which we forward, inclines us to believe), then give the matter your best consideration, lest your souls or ours be burdened in respect of the oaths, and do whatever you may judge to be advantageous to the Republic. But let your Glory so act that nothing be done for which we could be blamed by our adversaries, and nothing omitted which the advantage of the State requires.”

Almost immediately after the receipt of his letter, Ariulf himself appeared before Rome. At the same time, in co-operation with him, Arichis of Benevento made an incursion into Campania, pushing in the direction of Naples. Unfortunately, that city chanced to be in great confusion. The bishop was dead, and for the moment there was no duke or officer of high rank in command of the garrison. Gregory, therefore, realizing the advantage that the Lombards were likely to reap from this state of affairs, without hesitation appointed a tribune named Constantius to take command of the city, and on his own authority ordered the garrison to obey him in the interests of the State.

The Pope’s action both here and in respect of Nepi was sufficiently daring, but it seems to have been passed over without remark by the Imperial authorities. Emboldened by the attitude of the Government, Gregory now went one step further, and actually conceived the amazing project of concerting a separate peace with the Lombards. So much, at least, we learn from a letter sent by him to the Archbishop of Ravenna in July 592: “Do not think that my failure to answer the many letters I have received from your Holiness is due to laziness. It is due to sickness. For, as my sins deserved, when Ariulf came to Borne and killed some and mutilated others, I was so affected with sorrow that I became ill with a disease of the bowels. I had, indeed, been greatly surprised that your Holiness, with your well-known zeal, did nothing for the relief of the city and of my troubles; but I have now learnt from your letters that you have been anxious to act, but that there is no one with whom you can act in concert I therefore impute it to my sins, that he, whose business it is, is not inclined to fight against our enemies, and yet forbids us to make peace—though, indeed, even if we wished it, we could not make peace now, because Ariulf has the soldiers of Authari and Nordulf with him, and desires us, as the condition of his condescending to discuss the terms of peace with us, to give him the money for their pay. But the animosity of his Excellency, Romanus the Patrician, ought not to disturb you, since, as we are above him in position and rank, so also we ought the more to tolerate with forbearance and dignity any light conduct on his part. If, however, you have an opportunity of doing so, we trust your Fraternity will urge him to allow us to make peace with Ariulf, if we can manage it at all. For, as he knows, the soldiers have been removed from the city of Rome, and the Theodosians who remain can hardly be persuaded to mount guard, because they do not receive their pay. Unless, therefore, we have peace, how can this city, abandoned as it is by all men, continue to exist? With regard to the city of Naples,” Gregory continues, bitterly, " while his Excellency the Exarch is so zealous and active, we have learnt that Arichis is breaking faith with the Republic, and, in alliance with Ariulf, is vigorously plotting against that city, so that unless a duke is speedily sent there, it may already be counted as lost.”

We can easily understand the Pope’s indignation against the Exarch, and his disapproval of his policy. At the same time, we must admit that it was only natural that Romanus should regard the Lombard war from a point of view different from that of Gregory. As a matter of fact, he was probably inspirited by the turn which things had taken in the East. Chosroes, the Persian king, had been restored to his throne by Roman troops, and had made peace with the Empire on favourable terms. The Roman army, so long detained on the Eastern frontier, was now free to operate against the barbarians in the West, and the Exarch doubtless hoped that the spirit of Justinian might yet revive at Constan­tinople, and the glories of Belisarius and Narses descend upon himself. In any case, the Lombards were so divided, and there was so little cohesion in their state, that it still seemed possible and feasible to act upon the old Imperial maxim, and conquer by fomenting dissensions. Few things could be more adverse to the Exarch’s plans than a peace between Spoleto and Rome. In the friendly professions of Ariulf Romanus had no confidence; about the safety of the Eternal City itself he had no apprehension. For the wretched fate of the people of the Campagna he probably cared little. That some peasants should be killed and others mutilated or sold as slaves, was to him merely an incident of war, to be remembered only in order that he might at the earliest opportunity retaliate in a similar way upon the Lombards. Further, he was perfectly aware that if Ariulf could no longer satisfy his men with the spoil of the Roman territory, he would naturally turn to the territory of Ravenna, and the money which Gregory paid to purchase a peace would be expended in hiring more soldiers to molest the Exarch himself. For these reasons Romanus was determined to prevent any peace being concluded.

On the other hand, Gregory’s heart was set on ending the war, at least so far as he himself was concerned. He had no fancy for hostilities in which all the evils were inflicted by one party, and suffered by the other. He was weary of the never-ending story of ruined towns and desecrated churches and populous districts reduced to solitude. He hated the underhand policy of plots and bribery and treachery by which the Exarch en­deavoured to make up for the lack of troops. He knew well enough that the Roman. forces were quite inadequate to encounter the Lombards in the open field, and he was rightly convinced that no effectual support was to be expected from Constantinople. Surely, he might well have argued, the withdrawal from Rome of all substantial assistance, the persistent indifference displayed by the Imperial Government to the fate of the city, left him free to consult the interests of his own people, even to the disadvantage of the Greek Caesar. Besides, the Pope felt strongly that these secular troubles were unfitting him personally for his true work as spiritual ruler. Broken and oppressed with sickness as he was, he still preached frequently to his people, but he mourned in bitter words that he could not speak to them as he ought. “How can I,” he said on one occasion, in a sermon—“how can I take due care of everything around me, and yet collect my thoughts to consider what I am myself? How can I reprove and correct the wicked­ness of evil men, how preserve by praise and admonition the righteousness of the good? how terrify the one and charm the other? How can I think of what my brethren need, and see that the city is guarded against the swords of the enemy, and take precautions lest the people be destroyed by a sudden attack, and yet at the same time deliver the word of exhortation fully and effectually for the salvation of souls? To speak of God we need a mind thoroughly at peace and free from care. Then alone the tongue is rightly guided in speech when the thoughts are undisturbed, just as our face is to be seen reflected, not in troubled water, but only in still. How, then, can I exhort you, beloved—I who am disquieted by so many confusing cares ?”

It is probable that, despite the Exarch, Gregory did conclude a truce with the Duke of Spoleto about the end of July, in 592, the expenses of the transaction being borne by the Church.

The proceeding is certainly remarkable. As Dr. Hodgkin writes: “ Though probably a wise and statesmanlike measure, there can be no doubt that—to use a legal phrase—it was quite ultra vires, being entirely beyond any legal competency yet possessed by the bishop of Rome in ‘the Roman Republic.’ An archbishop of Canterbury negotiating for himself a separate peace with Napoleon I, at the time of his meditated Boulogne invasion, or, to take a less improbable contingency—a bishop of Durham making private terms for himself and the territories of St. Cuthbert, with the king of Scots, on the eve of the battle of Flodden; these hypothetical cases offer fair analogies to the conduct of Gregory on this occasion, on which he did indeed make a memorable stride towards complete independence.” We cannot wonder that the Imperial Government should have regarded the transaction with extreme disfavour and indignation. For whoever reaped any benefit from the peace, it was most certainly not the Emperor. During the late campaign, it seems, Ariulf had succeeded in taking several Imperial towns—Sutri, Bomarzo, Orta,Todi, Amelia, Cantiano, and Perugia itself, the key to the communication between Rome and Ravenna. Gregory was so set on providing for the security of his own city, that he took no account of the serious consequences which would result for the Imperial cause in Italy if these places remained in the hands of the enemy, but, so far at least as we can see, concluded his peace on the basis of the status quo. Such a compact, how­ever, could not possibly be recognized at Ravenna or Constanti­nople. Even the sluggish Romanus felt it incumbent on him to make a counter-demonstration without delay. Hence, col­lecting all the forces at his disposal, and utterly ignoring the Papal peace, he sallied forth unexpectedly from his marshes, recaptured one by one the conquered towns, received Perugia back from the hands of the traitor Lombard commander, Duke Maurisio, and finally marched at the head of his victorious soldiers up to the gates of Rome.

The Exarch was received with Imperial honours by the clergy and people, and entered the city in state. He was escorted in procession to the palace of the Lateran, where the Pope waited to give him welcome. But the meeting between the two potentates can scarcely have been cordial; nor did Romanus do anything to make himself popular during his stay in Rome. He gave neither donations to the soldiers, nor shows to the people, nor presents to the churches or religious houses. Hence, when he quitted the city in the spring, taking with him all the Byzantine troops, even the mutinous Theodosian regiment, to reinforce the garrisons of Kami and Perugia, the feeling of both Pope and citizens against him was more exasperated than ever.

The expedition of the Exarch and the loss of Perugia now roused the Lombards of the north. King Agilulf, who had by this time subdued the rebellious Dukes of Bergamo, Treviso, and S. Giulio, was furious at the treachery of the Romans, and determined on taking vengeance. So, in 593, he assembled his Lombards in strong force at Pavia, marched south, and, retaking Perugia on his way, arrived before the gates of Rome, probably in the month of June.

Meanwhile, in his strangely mystical style, Gregory had been delivering a series of lectures on the Prophet Ezekiel. He would gladly have evaded' the duty, feeling that his mind “was too absorbed with troubles and fears to discern the meaning of the dark mysteries of prophecy.” At the earnest request of his people, however, he consented at all events to attempt an exposition of the vision which the prophet saw upon the high mountain.

These rather wearisome homilies will be read with revived interest, if we call to mind the circumstances under which they were delivered—the panic-stricken people thronging the broad flow of the Basilica of Constantine, the bishop, pallid and worn with disease, but eloquent and impassioned, and over ail, the great mosaic head of Christ looking calmly down upon the crowd, as it still looks down on us. Day after day the preacher spoke to his hearers of the duties and mysteries of the Christian, life, interpreting the obscure prophetic images, according to the principle then universally received throughout Christendom, that everything relating to the Temple of God in Jewish times was emblematic of the state of those who should in a later age become God’s Temple through the Holy Spirit. And meanwhile, day after day, tidings came in of fresh disasters—the Exarch’s troops had not dared to meet the enemy in the field— the Lombards had crossed the Appenines and swept down the Tiber valley—they had taken Perugia by storm, and put to death the traitor Maurisio—there was nothing to check the torrent of destruction till it surged with all its force against the walls of Borne. The fate of the Eternal City seemed trembling in the balance, and all were filled with the gloomiest forebodings. Oppressed with a sense of impending disaster, the harassed and disheartened bishop interrupted the course of his allegorical exposition to utter a weird, funeral oration over the departed glories of Rome.

“What is there, I ask, to please you in this world? We see on all sides sorrows; we hear on all sides groans. Cities are destroyed, fortifications razed to the ground, fields devastated, the land reduced to solitude. No husbandman is left in the fields, few inhabitants remain in the cities, and yet these scanty remnants of the human race are still each day smitten without ceasing. The scourges of divine justice cease not because, even while they smite us, our sins are not corrected. Some men are led away captive, others are mutilated, others slain before our eyes. What is there, then, my brethren, to please us in this world ? If we still love such a world as this, it is dear that we love not pleasure, but misery.

“What Rome herself, once deemed the Mistress of the World, has now become, we see—wasted away with afflictions grievous and many, with the loss of citizens, the assaults of enemies, the frequent fall of ruined buildings. In her we see fulfilled what long ago was spoken against the city of Samaria by the Prophet Ezekiel: Set on a pot, set it on, and also pour water into it, and gather the pieces of flesh into it And a little later, The meat is boiled away, and the bones in the midst thereof. And again, Gather together the bones that I may bum them with fire; the flesh shall be consumed, the whole mass shall be boiled away, and the bones shall be dissolved. Set also the pot empty upon the coals, that the brass thereof may be hot and may melt. Then was the pot set on when the city was founded. Then was the water poured into it and the pieces of the flesh gathered together, when the people streamed from all sides hither, to heat themselves like the boiling water with the busi­ness of the world, to melt away like the pieces of meat with the very heat they kindled. And of this city it is well said, The meat is boiled away, and the bones in the midst thereof, since in this city worldly glory once glowed with excessive fervour, but now that glory and all who sought for it have passed away. For by the bones the great men of the world, and by the flesh the people, are signified; for as the flesh is supported by the bones, so the weakness of the people is sustained by the great men of the world. But behold! already all the great men of the world are gone from the city, therefore the bones are boiled away. Behold! the people have disappeared, the flesh has melted. Therefore let it be said, Gather together the bones that I may bum them with fire; the flesh shall be consumed and the whole mass shall be boiled away, and the bones shall be dissolved. For where is the Senate ? Where is the People? The bones are all dissolved, the flesh is consumed, all the pomp of the dignities of this world is gone. The whole mass is boiled away.

 “Yet even we who remain, few as we are, still are daily smitten with the sword, still are daily crushed by innumerable afflictions. Therefore let it be said, Set the pot also empty upon the coals. For the Senate is no more, and the People has perished, yet sorrow and sighing are multiplied daily among the few that are left. Borne is, as it were, already empty and burning. But what need is there to speak of men, when, as the work of ruin spreads, we see the very buildings perishing ? Wherefore it is fitly added, concerning the city already empty, Let the brass thereof be hot and melt. Already the pot itself is being consumed, in which were first consumed the flesh and bones, for after the inhabitants of the city have perished, the very houses are falling. But where are they who once rejoiced in her glory? Where is their pomp? Where their pride? Where their constant and immoderate joy ?

“In her is fulfilled what was once said by the prophet against the ruined Nineveh, Where is the dwelling of the lions, and the feeding-place of the young lions ? Were not her generals and princes lions ? They ran to and fro through the world, raging and slaying they seized their prey. Here was the feeding-place of the young lions; for boys and youths and young men of the world, the sons of men of the world, when they wished for worldly advancement, came together from all parts of the earth to this city. But now, behold! she is desolate. Behold! she is wasted away. Behold! she is bowed down with groaning. Now no one hastens to her for worldly advancement. Now none of the mighty and violent men remain to oppress and seize the spoil. Let us therefore say, Where is the dwelling of the lions, and the feeding-place of the young lions?

“ There is come to her what was said of Judaea by the prophet, Enlarge thy baldness as the eagle. The baldness of a man is generally only on the head, but the baldness of the eagle spreads over the whole body, for when the eagle is very old the feathers drop from all its limbs. Therefore Rome enlarges her baldness as the eagle, since, in losing her people, she has lost, as it were, her feathers. Even the feathers of her wings have dropped, with which she used to fly upon the spoil, since all the mighty men are dead, by whom she made the world her prey.”

Now the fierce warriors of Agilulf invested Rome. As the trembling citizens mounted guard upon the battlements, they beheld their captive countrymen, with halters round their necks, driven away like dogs to be sold as slaves to the Franks. Within the walls all was wild confusion. The people in their extremity flocked as before to Gregory for comfort; but he, distracted with innumerable troubles, could speak to them no longer. “Let no man blame me,” he said, “if I preach no more. As you all see, our troubles have increased beyond measure. On all sides we are surrounded by swords, on all sides we look with fear upon the imminent peril of death. Some men come back to us with their hands chopped off, others are said to be prisoners, others to be slain. Now I am compelled to refrain my tongue from speaking, for my soul is weary of my life. Now let no one expect from me the study of Holy Scripture, for my harp is turned into mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep. Now the eye of the soul is not open for the discernment of mysteries, for my soul melteth away for very heaviness. Now reading brings little pleasure to my mind, for I forget to eat my tread for the voice of my groaning. When life itself is lost, how can a man find pleasure in declaring the mystic meaning of Holy Scripture? How can I, who am daily compelled to drink from the bitter cup, offer a sweet draught to others? What, then, remains, but that while we suffer the penalty of our sins, we render thanks, mingled with tears, to God? For He who created us has been made also our Father, through the Spirit of adoption which He gave. And sometimes He nourishes His children with bread, sometimes He corrects them with strokes, educating them by sorrows and by gifts for their eternal inheritance. Therefore glory be to our Almighty Lord Christ Jesus, who liveth and reigneth with the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost God, world without end. Amen.” Gregory closed the book with a sigh. The lectures on Ezekiel were at an end.

The siege of Borne did not last long. The Pope, and Castus, a Master of the Soldiery, who shortly before Agilulf’s arrival had thrown himself into the city, were too vigilant to be taken by surprise, and the walls were too strong to be stormed. The Lombards, also, were disinclined to undertake a regular siege. They were afraid of fever, and apprehensive lest their own lands should be ravaged by the Imperial troops at Ravenna. Agilulf, moreover, feeling that he could not depend upon the fidelity of the northern dukes, was impatient to return. He had already effected the main object of his expedi­tion; he had won back the conquests of the Exarch, had reduced Perugia, had shown unmistakably his superiority to the Romans in the field, and had acquired much plunder. Perhaps, also, he was not entirely uninfluenced by some superstitious fear, such as is said to have affected even the heathen Attila. He may have thought with awe that there was some mysterious power watching over the Eternal City, which, even if it did not save Rome from being taken, yet certainly exacted a fearful ven­geance on those who used her ill. Alaric had taken Rome, and within a few months had died in the flower of his age. Attila had menaced Rome, and had died a mysterious death on his wedding-night. Genseric had plundered Rome, and in less than a century his nation had perished, and the last of his descendants was living in a strange land on the bounty of his enemies. Totila had twice captured Rome, but he too had fallen in the height of his power, slain as he fled from the battle-field on which the Gothic race and monarchy received their death-blow.

It was perhaps the parallel between Agilulf’s position and that of one of these unfortunate heroes of the past that gave rise to the story which is found in the Continuator of Prosper, that the Lombard king met Gregory in person “at the steps of the Basilica of St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles,” and that, “being melted by Gregory’s prayers and greatly moved by the wisdom and religious gravity of this great man, he broke up the siege of the city.” The truth of this legend cannot, in my opinion, be maintained in view of the silence both of Gregory himself and of Paul. It is probable, however, that negotiations passed between the king and the Pope, and that the former was eventually confirmed in his determination to raise the siege by an ample subsidy from the Papal treasury. At least, Gregory may perhaps be alluding to some such transaction when, at a later date, he proclaims himself “the paymaster of the Lombards,” whose swords were kept off the Roman people only by the daily ransom discharged by the Church.

So in the late summer of 593 the Lombards marched away with noisy contempt for these miserable Romans, who could only fight, if they fought at all, behind high walls; and, as they mounted the hills beyond the Milvian Bridge and took a fare­well look at the half-ruined city, probably none of them dreamed that they were leaving behind a power which would yet prove strong enough to bring about the overthrow of their kingdom and nation.

The peril through which he had passed made Gregory more anxious than ever to bring the war to an end. He saw now the futility of making any private arrangement with the enemy in which the Emperor had no interest The campaign of 593 had been provoked by such an arrangement, and Gregory knew enough of the temper of the Exarch to be sure that he would not hesitate to overthrow a second private treaty as he had overthrown the first. The Pope’s absorbing desire now, there­fore, was to bring about a peace between the Lombards and the Emperor himself. To smoothe the way for such a treaty on the Lombard side, he relied principally on Queen Theude­linda. Though a Catholic and a friend of the Pope, Theudelinda exercised unbounded influence over her people, and would certainly be an invaluable intermediary if only she would con­sent to play that part. It was unfortunate that at this particular juncture she fell into the hands of the Istrian schismatics, and Gregory for a while was alarmed lest the religious difference should set the queen against his plan. However, though Theudelinda could not be persuaded to recede from her opinions about the Three Chapters, she did not on that account break with the Pope, nor did she make any difficulty about co-operating with him to secure a lasting peace. At the court of Pavia, therefore, Gregory could count on a firm and very powerful ally. To manage the Exarch, however, was not so easy, and Gregory had to proceed with great caution. That some negotiations took place we gather from a somewhat obscure passage in a letter sent by Gregory in September to Constantius of Milan. “You have accurately and briefly informed me of all that has been done, both in connection with King Ago and the kings of the Franks. I beg that your Fraternity will by all means notify me of everything that has hitherto come to your knowledge. But if you see that Ago effects nothing with the Patrician, assure him from me that I am ready to spend myself on his behalf, if he too is willing to come to an advantageous settlement with the Republic.” There are some indications that a temporary truce, valid within certain districts, was patched up. But the terms were broken by the Exarch, and a whole year passed away without anything definite being accomplished.

In the spring of 595 we get a glimpse of the state of Rome. There was great suffering in the city. The corn supply had run short, and there appeared to be danger of another famine. Maurice himself was touched by the distress, and sent a gift of thirty pounds of gold and money to pay the troops. Other friends also sent presents of money. “The thirty pounds of gold,” wrote Gregory to the Emperor, “ which my fellow­servant, Busa the Scribo, brought, have been faithfully dis­tributed by him to priests, needy persons, and others. And since certain religious women have come to the city from the provinces, having fled hither after captivity—some of whom have been placed in monasteries which had room for them, while others, who could not be taken in, are utterly destitute—we determined to distribute among them what could be spared from the relief of the blind, maimed, and feeble, so that not only poor citizens, but also strangers who came here, might receive of the bounty of our Lords. The pay also of the soldiers has been distributed by the aforesaid Scribo in the presence of the Glorious Magister Militum, Castus, and all under due discipline received with thanks the gifts of dur Lords, and repressed all murmuring such as formerly used to prevail among them.” Presiding in  this famine-ridden, poverty-stricken city, crowded with desti­tute citizens and yet more destitute refugees, fighting with star­vation and the plague, contending with mutinous soldiers, kept in constant alarm about the enemy, and receiving small meed of sympathy or comfort from his Imperial master, Pope Gregory had more than his share of trouble. Yet another blow was now about to fall.

For some time it had been clear to every one that Romanus was doing all he could to obstruct the peace, and once more the Pope, driven almost to despair, began to meditate a private treaty with the Lombards. At any rate, he hoped, by hinting at the possibility of such a treaty, to force the Exarch’s hand. Hence in May 595 he sent to a friend at Ravenna a very singular letter, threatening to make terms with Agilulf even without the concurrence of Romanns. “Agilulf does not refuse to make a general peace if my Lord the Patrician will consent to arbi­tration on the matters in dispute between them. He complains that he was grievously wronged in various parts of his dominions during the armistice. And as he demands satisfaction for himself, if his claims are judged reasonable, so he promises himself to give every satisfaction if it is shown that any act of hostility was perpetrated on his side during the peace. As, then, it is clear that his proposals are reason­able, there ought to be a judicial investigation of the matter, so that compensation may be made for any wrongs done on either side, provided that a general peace be thus securely established under the protection of God. How necessary such a peace is for us, you well know. Act, then, with your usual wisdom, that his Excellency the Exarch may give his consent to the proposal without delay, lest it be thought that the offer of peace is rejected by him, which is not desirable. For if he will not give his consent, Agilulf offers to make a special peace with us. But we know that in that case various islands and other places will be ruined. Let Romanus take this into consideration, and make haste to conclude peace, that at least during this reprieve we may have a short time of rest, and the commonwealth may, by God’s help, the better recruit its powers of resistance.”

The threat contained in this letter is surprising. In order to force the Government to do what he wished, the Pope hinted that he was prepared to make a special peace, not this time with a subordinate duke, but with the king of the Lombards himself, although, as be frankly admits, such a peace would be seriously detrimental to the Imperial cause in Italy. Such a menace (even though it was nothing more) could scarcely fail to bring down on Gregory’s head a storm of indignation. For some time already there had been considerable irritation against him at Constantinople, where the party of the Exarch was strong in favour. All this irritation now broke loose. Even the Emperor was violently prejudiced against him, and wrote off at once a fiery letter, expressing with extreme candour his opinion of his recent conduct, and accusing him, in effect, of being both a traitor and a fool. This letter was received in June 595.

The Pope, in his turn, lost his temper. Maurice’s wilful blindness to the incapacity of Romanus, his heartless disregard for the sufferings of his Roman subjects, his foolish clinging to the fiction that he was still sovereign over all Italy, and, above all, the very insulting expressions in his letter, were enough to rouse the passion even of a saint. Boiling with indignation, Gregory dashed off a reply such as few Emperors had ever received from one of their subjects.

“In their most serene commands, my Religious Lords, while reproving me for certain things, appeared indeed to spare me, but in reality spared me not at all. For though they politely apply to me the word ‘simple,’ they in fact call me a fool. Now in Scripture, when ‘ simple is used in a good sense, it is often carefully joined with some word like ‘prudent’ or ‘righteous.’ Thus it is written of blessed Job, He was a man simple and righteous; and the blessed Apostle Paul admonishes us, Be ye simple in evil and prudent in good; and the Truth Himself admonishes us in the Gospel, saying, Be ye prudent as serpents and simple as doves. But I, in my Lords’ most serene commands, am said to have been deceived by the cunning of Ariulf, and am called ‘simple without the addition of pru­dent’; whence it is clear beyond all doubt that I am called a foot Well, I myself must confess that you are right For, even if your Piety did not utter the word, the facts proclaim my folly; since, had I been aught but a fool, I should never have endured what I do endure in this place amid the swords of the Lombards. As to my report concerning Ariulf, that he was ready with all his heart to come over to the Republic, I am not believed; and that means that I am also accused of being a liar. But although I am not worthy to be a priest, I know that a priest is the servant of the truth, and that it is a deadly insult to call him a liar. I have long perceived, however, that more confidence is reposed in Nordulf or in Leo than in me, and now those who come between us receive more credence than is given to my assertions.

“If indeed the subjection of my country were not advancing day by day, I would gladly say nothing about being despised and laughed at myself. But this troubles me more than any­thing else, that the very causes which bring on me the charge of falsehood are daily leading Italy into captivity under the yoke of the Lombards. While my statements are disbelieved, the strength of the enemy is terribly increasing. This, however, I suggest to my Most Religious Lord, to think what evil he likes of me, but not to lend a ready ear to every one who talks about the interests of the State and the means of saving Italy, —to trust deeds rather than words. Further, I pray my Lord not to be hastily angry with priests, thinking only of his earthly power. I pray him to consider well Whose servants they are, and so to order his rule over them, that he may at the same time pay them the reverence which is their due. For in Holy Scripture priests are sometimes called gods, sometimes angels. For it is said by Moses, concerning him who was to be brought forward to take an oath, Bring him to the gods, i.e. to priests. And again it is written, Thou shalt not revile the gods, i.e. the priests. And the prophet saith, The priest's lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the Law at his mouth, for he is the angel of the Lord of Hosts. What wonder would it be, then, if your Piety thought fit to honour those whom, for their honour, God Himself in His own Word calls gods or angels?

“Ecclesiastical history also testifies that when accusations against bishops were brought to the Emperor Constantine of pious memory, he received indeed the papers, but called together the bishops who had been accused, and burnt the papers in their presence, saying, ‘Ye are gods appointed by the true God; go and settle your affairs among yourselves, for it is not fit that we should judge gods.’ By which words, my Religious Lord, he did more for himself by the humility he showed, than he did for them by the reverence which he paid them. Before him, indeed, the State had pagan princes who knew not the true God, and worshipped gods of wood and stone, and they paid the greatest honour to their priests. What wonder, then, that a Christian Emperor should think it right to honour the priests of the true God, when, as we said, pagan princes knew how to honour the priests who served gods of wood and stone?

“I make this suggestion to my Most Religious Sovereigns, not on my own behalf, but on behalf of all priests. For I am myself a sinner, and as I sin daily and continually before God, I think it will be some benefit to me in His terrible judgment if I am now daily stricken with continual affliction; and I believe that you render God more favourable to yourselves, the more severely you afflict me who serve Him so badly. I had before sustained many injuries, and when the orders of my Sovereigns came, I found an unexpected consolation. I will, if I can, briefly state what these injuries were.

“First, I was robbed of the peace which, without any expense to the State, I made with the Lombards in Tuscia. Then, when the peace was broken, the soldiers were removed from the city. Some of them were slain by the enemy, some were stationed at Narni and Perugia, Rome being abandoned that Perugia might be garrisoned. After this there was a worse affliction when Agilulf came, and I saw with my own eyes men tied by the neck like dogs, and led off to be sold as slaves in France. And as we, who were within the city, escaped from his hands by the protection of God, an excuse is sought for blaming us, because, forsooth, the supply of com was deficient; whereas it is quite impossible to keep a large supply of com for a long time in Rome, as I have more fully explained in another report. For myself, indeed, I do not care in the least As my conscience bears me witness, I am willing to suffer any calamities if only I can pass through them with safety to my soul. But for those honourable men, Gregory the Prefect, and the general Castus, I am greatly grieved, since they did everything that could possibly be done, and during the siege underwent the severest toils in watching and guarding the city. Yet, after all, they are stricken with the grievous displeasure of their Sovereigns. It is quite clear to me that the cause of their ill treatment is not anything they have done, but their connection with me, that as they had toiled with me in sorrow, so like me they might sorrow when toil was ended.

“And whereas my Religious Sovereigns set before me the awful, the terrible judgment of Almighty God, I pray them by that same Almighty God not to do so again: for we know not how any man will stand in that judgment. And Paul the great preacher says, Judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts. This one thing, however, I do say—that, unworthy and sinful as I am, I trust more in the mercy of Jesus when He comes, than I do in the justice of your Piety. There are many things concerning that judgment which men know not. Perhaps what you praise He will blame, and what you blame He will praise. Therefore amid all these uncertainties I have no refuge but in tears, as I pray that Almighty God will guide with His own Hand my Most Religious Sovereign in this world, and in that terrible judgment will find him free from all offence. May He also, if needs be, make me acceptable to men, but so that I may not forfeit His eternal favour.”

Had Maurice been a Justinian, the above letter would have been sharply answered with a decree of banishment, and Gregory’s work as Bishop of Rome would have been brought abruptly to an end. These autocratic measures, however, were no longer feasible in the distressed condition of the Empire; and probably Maurice, angry though he was, recognized that the Pope, in spite of his independence, was a valuable and loyal servant, with whose assistance he could ill dispense. No notice, therefore, was taken of the outburst. And Gregory, on his side, having relieved his mind, began perhaps to think that he had gone somewhat too far. At any rate, we hear nothing more from him about a separate peace.

But though his relations with the Emperor continued friendly, Gregory’s feeling towards the Exarch, whom rightly or wrongly he regarded as the cause of all his troubles, became more and more embittered. “We cannot describe,” he wrote about this time to a brother bishop, “what we suffer in this land at the hands of your friend, my Lord Romanus. I will only say that his malice towards us is worse than the swords of the Lombards, so that the enemies who slay us seem kinder than the State Governors, who wear us out with their malice and robberies and deceits. To have the charge at one and the same time of bishops and clergy, of the monasteries also and of the people; to be anxiously on the watch against the snares of the enemy; to be always suspicious of the tricks and malice of the dukes;—what toil and what grief this is, you, my brother, who love me so well and so purely, will be able truly to conjec­ture.” In a similar strain he wrote to Anastasius of Antioch: “What tribulations I suffer in this land from the swords of the Lombards, from the iniquities of the Governors, from the pressure and hurry of business, from the care of subjects, and also from bodily sickness, I am unable to express either by pen or by tongue.”

Meanwhile the peace negotiations dragged on in a desultory fashion, and were the occasion of an incident which still further increased the unfriendliness between the Pope and the Exarch. Gregory’s responsalis at Ravenna was a notary named Cas­torius, whose meddlesome activity and violent partisanship had made him unpopular with both the officials and the people. In the spring of 596 Castorius came to Rome to make a report about the progress of the negotiations, returning almost imme­diately with instructions to press vehemently for peace, since Arichis of Benevento was showing signs of activity, and Cam­pania was therefore in serious danger. With these orders Castorius redoubled his exertions. But the people of Ravenna, who suffered little inconvenience from the war, and resented Gregory’s attitude towards their Exarch, were determined to repress the intrusive ambassador. Accordingly, one night some persons unknown affixed to the walls of the city a placard, reflecting in very injurious terms on the conduct both of Castorius and of the Pope. When Gregory heard of this he was greatly enraged, believing that the thing had been done by order of Romanus himself. He therefore replied to the insult with the following proclamation, addressed to all the priests, deacons, clerics, nobles, monks, people, and soldiers living in Ravenna or outside the walls: “Some one, at the instigation of the devil, has in the dead of night placed in a certain part of the city a placard, with accusations against my notary and responsalis Castorius, and with a cunning attack on myself in respect of the negotiations for peace. As one who speaks the truth ought not to shrink from being known, it is right that the author of the placard should come forward and prove the truth of his state­ments. If he does not come forward or make public confession of his error, then—whoever he may be who has dared to do this, or who has assented to such an evil device—we by the Spirit of our Lord and God Jesus Christ decree that he be deprived of the communion of Christ’s Holy Body and Blood. If, however, because he conceals himself and is unknown, and so cannot be reached by the discipline of the Church, he venture, though conscious of his guilt, to receive the Body and Blood of the Lord after this prohibition, let him be punished with the stroke of anathema, and cut off from the body of the Holy Church as a deceitful and pestilent fellow. If he happens to be one of those to whom we send letters of good wishes—not knowing him to be an agent or partner in this matter—may those good wishes be of no avail to him with Almighty God. If, on the other hand, he comes forward and can prove his assertions, or if, feeling sure that he cannot prove them, he openly confesses his error, he is not to be deprived of the communion of the Lord’s Body and Blood, or cut off from the body of the Holy Church. For we learn from the faults which we daily commit ourselves before Almighty God, to be indulgent to the faults of others, provided that due discipline be maintained.”

In the same year the Boman arms suffered a disaster in the loss of the city of Cotrone, and the capture of a great number of loyal citizens, including many noble ladies. Here and elsewhere the Lombards were willing to put to ransom the people they had taken, and Gregory was unwearied in his endeavours to obtain funds necessary for the purpose. The treasury of the Boman Church was severely taxed, money was begged and received from sympathizers at Constantinople, and in some cases bishops were authorized to sell their Church plate to redeem lost members of their flock. The money thus obtained was entrusted to responsible agents, who were instructed to drive hard bargains with the Lombards, and to spend not a penny more than was absolutely necessary.

At the close of the year 596—or early in 597—Romanus the Exarch died, greatly to the relief of Gregory and his friends. The friction between Rome and Ravenna had become intoler­able. The Exarch very naturally had been determined to have his own way in Italy, but he had been embarrassed on every side by the action of the Pope. Gregory, for his part, had learnt to regard the Exarch as the chief obstacle to the carrying out of his most cherished projects for the salvation of the country. Doubtless there were faults on both sides. Gregory, perhaps, had been somewhat too officious, Romanus too little of a statesman to appreciate his rival’s plans. The two men, instead of working together, only hampered and harassed one another, and the result was a deadlock. Hence it was with scarcely disguised exhilaration that Gregory learnt that his old antagonist was dead, and was to be succeeded by Callinicus—called by Paul Gallicinus—a man of much greater ability, and also well disposed towards himself. Not but that he was well aware that even with the new Exarch he was likely to meet with difficulties. He was warned by a friend in Ravenna that there were people at court who would do their best to prejudice the new Governor against him. “I thank you,” he writes, “for putting me on my guard against two persons who have come with the Glorious Callinicus, although we have already had some very disagreeable experience of the first-named. But inasmuch as the times are evil, we bear all things—with a groan.” Nevertheless, with the fresh appoint­ment the hopes of the Pope began to revive.

Callinicus did not permit himself to be hurried into doing anything rash. During the year 597 and the greater part of 598 matters remained much as they were. In April 598 Gregory wrote to the Bishop of Terracina, peremptorily forbidding any one, “under the name either of our Church or of yours or under any other pretext,” to be exempted from sentry duty on the city walls. Still, we find him also issuing orders for the collection of property belonging to Italian churches which bad been taken to Sicily, as though he expected that a peace would be concluded before long.

For some time Rome itself had been unmolested by the enemy. We are assured of this in an interesting letter written by Gregory in May 598 to Rusticiana, a patrician lady residing at Constantinople. In this letter the Pope complains of his correspondent’s infatuation for Constantinople, and her utter forgetfulness of her native Rome. He says he cannot understand her attitude. She is greatly beloved by the Romans; why, then, does she not show that she loves them in return, and pay them a visit? A journey to “the thresholds of the blessed Peter, chief of the Apostles,” would greatly benefit her soul, and that of her daughter, the Lady Eusebia. He begs Rusticiana to consider this suggestion, and to undertake the pilgrimage. “If, however”—so he continues—“you are afraid of the swords and wars of Italy, you ought to mark carefully how great is the protection extended by St. Peter to this city, wherein, though with very scanty population and without military aid, we have been preserved for so many years unhurt amid the swords of the enemy. This we say because we love you. May Almighty God grant you whatever He sees will be for the eternal benefit of your soul and for the renown of your house in this present life.”

In the autumn of 598 the tedious negotiations drew to an end. Gregory’s agent at the court of Pavia was a certain abbat Probus, and from him the Pope learned in September that the terms of peace might be considered as settled, both the King and the Exarch having given their consent. This joyful news was at once passed on to Januarius archbishop of Cagliari. It seems that, in consequence partly of Januarius’s neglect of the work of fortification, Sardinia had been ravaged by the Lombards, and the Pope now wrote to urge the metropolitan to look to the defences of Cagliari and the other towns, and have them adequately provisioned. “Know, however,” he adds, “that the abbat whom we sent some time ago to Agilulf has, by God’s mercy, arranged a peace with him, according to the written directions of the Exarch. Therefore, till the agreement for peace be actually confirmed and signed, cause the watches on the walls to be continued everywhere with careful attention, lest during the delay the enemy should be inclined to revisit your parts. We trust in the power of our Redeemer that the inroads and plots of our adversaries will not do you any further injury.” The articles of the treaty, however, were not actually settled till 599.

The delay in finally signing the peace was due, in part to the shifty conduct of Ariulf and Arichis, who were unwilling to co-operate with their king, or to bind themselves by the required guarantees; in part also to the conduct of Gregory himself, who for some inexplicable reason declined to append his signature to the agreement which, for the past seven years, he had been straining every nerve to obtain. This much we learn from a letter sent by Gregory to Theodore mayor of Ravenna, who had been conducting the negotiations on the Exarch’s behalf in concert with the abbat Probus, who acted for the Pope. “For some time,” writes Gregory, “our responsales at Ravenna have sent us reports about you, which have rejoiced our heart. But now our son the abbat Probus, on his return to Rome, has told us many other things about your Glory, which prove you to be in very truth our good and most Christian son. He has told us of your great kindness towards himself, and of your earnest desire to arrange a peace—an earnestness unparalleled even in our own fellow-citizens who have previously been in Ravenna. And therefore we implore Heaven’s mercy to recompense you in body and soul both in this world and the next, because you have never ceased to watch and to act advantageously for the welfare of many.

“We inform you, then, that Ariulf has sworn to observe the peace. He swore, however, not as the king swore, but on conditions, viz. that no act of hostility be committed against himself, and that no one march against the army of Arichis. But this is nothing but a deceitful trick, and renders his oath as useless as if he had never sworn it. For it will always be easy for him to find some excuse for breaking his word, and the more we trust him, the more will he deceive us.

“But Warnifrida, according to whose advice Ariulf always acts, has refused outright to swear at all. And thus it comes to pass that we who inhabit the Roman district will gain hardly any relief from the peace we have so longed for, since we must still for the future, as in the past, be always apprehensive of our former foes.

“Furthermore, be it known to your Glory that the king’s men who have been sent hither are pressing us to subscribe the compact. But we cannot forget the insulting words which Agilulf is reported to have uttered to the Most Honourable Basilius, to the injury through us of the blessed Peter,—though Agilulf himself has entirely denied having spoken them. And we therefore think it prudent to abstain from subscribing, lest we, who are petitioners and mediators between him and our most excellent son the Exarch, should find ourselves deceived in any respect through a secret withdrawal of any of the clauses of the treaty, and so our guarantee should be called in question and he should at some future time have an excuse for refusing our petition. Therefore we beg of you, as we have also begged of our most excellent son, to arrange that, before Agilulf s men return from Arichis, the king may speedily send them letters to be handed on to us, in which he shall command them not to ask us to subscribe. But if it serves equally well, we will cause our brother Gloriosus, or one of the bishops, or at any rate an archdeacon, to sign the compact.”

In spite of these difficulties, however, the treaty was at length signed. The two treacherous dukes were persuaded or coerced to set their hands to the agreement, and the Pope's signature, not being of any vital importance, was probably dispensed with. And thus Gregory at last had the joy of seeing the fruit of his long and painful labours. His letters of thanks to Agilulf and Theudelinda express his delight that there would be no more shedding of the “blood of the miserable peasants whose labour is profitable to us all,” and his earnest hope that the terms agreed upon would be honourably respected by both sides. He was somewhat apprehensive, however, of the turbulence of the Lombard dukes. “We beg you to write,” he said to Agilulf, whenever you have an opportunity, and command your dukes in the different districts, and especially in this neighbourhood, to observe unconditionally the articles of peace, and not to seek occasions for stirring up strife and ill feeling.” The queen Theudelinda he cordially congratulated on all that she had done, and prayed her to use her influence to encourage the friendship between her husband and the Empire. “Saluting you with fatherly affection, we exhort you to use your influence to persuade your most excellent consort not to reject the alliance of the Christian Republic. For you are doubtless aware that friendship with us would be of advantage to him in many ways. Do you, therefore, as your custom is, foster continually everything that tends to promote good feeling between the two parties. Exert yourself on every opportunity, that your good deeds may be yet more acceptable in the sight of Almighty God.”

The peace lasted for two years. But although there were no overt hostilities, the Pope was at first kept in constant anxiety, owing to the conduct of his restless neighbour, Duke Ariulf of Spoleto. Disputes about ownership and deeds of violence were of frequent occurrence, and Ariulf, on the pretext that he had suffered injury, continued to plunder Roman territories. Thus in August 599, we find Gregory writing to Donellus, the paymaster of the Imperial forces at Ravenna, reiterating his old complaints? “You are aware that unless peace is really restored, no human aid, nothing at all short of the power of God’s majesty, can avail us here. As, then, your Greatness knows the wishes of our Sovereigns and their great anxiety for the relief of Rome—an anxiety proved by their gifts—and as you know the dangers which threaten our city and the surrounding district, it is undoubtedly your duty to come hither with money for the troops. If you fail to do so, and any misfortune should unhappily befall us, you will have to bear the full responsibility in the sight both of God and of the Emperor.” Fortunately for the Romans, Ariulf soon after­wards died, and the attention of the Lombards of Spoleto was drawn off by a fierce struggle for the dukedom between the sons of Ariulf's predecessor, Duke Farwald. With Arichis of Benevento Gregory seems to have been on moderately friendly terms. So the Roman district had repose for a period.

These two years, however, were signalized by another fright­ful onslaught of the pestilence. So terrible were its ravages in Rome, that there were hardly left sufficient men to guard the walls, and of clergy and laity, slaves and free, scarcely any were strong enough to carry on their ordinary duties. At Ravenna and in the cities on the coast the sickness raged with great violence, and Paul tells us that strange portents of evil were manifested in the heavens—“as it were, lances streaming with blood, while a strong light shone all through the night.” In Africa the pestilence was even more destructive. The following is a letter of consolation sent by Gregory to his friend Dominions of Carthage: “We learnt some time ago that a terrible pestilence has invaded Africa, and as Italy also is suffering from the same infliction, our grief is doubled. Amid those evils and other calamities our heart would break in hopeless sorrow, had not the Lord strengthened our weakness beforehand in anticipation of our need. Long ago the trumpet of the Gospel proclaimed to the faithful that, as the end of the world drew near, there would be pestilences and wars and many other evils, of which, as you know, we live in dread. But misfortunes, of which we have been forewarned, ought not to afflict us so excessively as unexpected evils might. Often, when we consider the way in which other men have died, we find a certain solace in reflecting on the form of death which threatens us. What mutilations, what cruelties, have we seen inflicted upon men, for which death was the only cure and in the midst of which life was a torture I Did not David, when the choice of the form of death was given him, refuse famine and the sword, and choose that his people should fall into the hand of the Lord ? Learn from this what favour is shown to those that perish by the stroke of God, seeing that they are called away by that very form of death which we know was granted to the holy prophet as a boon.”

Gregory’s own sufferings with gout were at this time intense. “For eleven months,” he wrote in 599, “ I have rarely been able to leave my bed. I am so tormented with gout and painful anxieties that life itself is to me most grievous suffering. Every day I sink through pain. Every day I look for the relief of death.” In the following year he continued the same strain : “For nearly two years I have been confined to my couch and afflicted with such pain from the gout, that even on festivals I can hardly get up for three hours to celebrate mass. I am daily at the point of death, and daily being driven back from it.”

So again in 601 he wrote to a bishop: “It is long since I have been able to leave my couch. At one time I am tormented with the pain of gout, at another time a fiery agony spreads throughout my whole body. For me to live is punishment, and I look longingly for death, which I believe to be the only possible remedy for my sufferings.” “My body,” so he complained to Rusticiana, “is as thoroughly parched and dried up, as though it were already in the tomb.”

The Pope's troubles were increased in the spring of 601 by a renewal of the war. This time the Romans were the aggressors. The Exarch Callinicus, emboldened probably by a revolt of the powerful Dukes of Trent and Friuli, made an unprovoked assault on the city of Parma, and among other prisoners captured Agilulf s own daughter with her husband Godeschalcus, and carried them off in triumph to Ravenna. By this act of treachery the Exarch doubtless hoped to force Agilulf to renew the peace on terms more favourable to the Romans. But he soon was made aware of his mistake. The Lombard king, furious at the outrage, made a perpetual alliance with the Chagan of the Avars, captured and destroyed Padua, devastated Istria, reduced the strong fortress of Monselice, and defeated the Exarch himself beneath the walls of Ravenna. Italy was thus once more at the mercy of the enemy. In July 603 Agilulf marched from Milan and laid siege to Cremona, which he took on the 21st of August, and, if Paul is to be believed, levelled it with the ground. On the 13th of September he took Mantua by storm, having opened breaches in the walls with battering-rams. And such was the panic among the Imperialist troops, that the fortress of Vulturina surrendered before a blow was struck, the cowardly garrison fleeing to Ravenna.

Meanwhile in Constantinople the throne of Maurice had fallen, and Phocas wore the diadem of Empire. The Exarch Callinicus, too, had been recalled, and Smaragdus the Violent was sent once more as Governor to Ravenna. Although a passionate and wilful man, Smaragdus was not devoid of political sagacity, and he soon saw that he was unable, with the forces at his disposal, to cope with the Lombards. The king’s daughter was promptly given up—she died in child-bed almost immediately after her surrender—and a truce was arranged with Agilulf, first, it seems, for thirty days, and then in September 603 for eighteen months, i.e. till the 1st of April 605.

Thus Gregory’s last days were brightened by the tidings of the restoration of peace. Although his life was now almost despaired of, and he had grown so weak that he could scarcely speak, the Pope roused himself to dictate one final letter of thanks to Theudelinda, imploring her to use every effort to incline her consort’s mind to peace, “that besides your many other good deeds, you may receive in the presence of God a reward for the innocent people who might otherwise have perished in the struggle.” The dying Pope’s hope that at last friendly relations were about to be established between Romans and Lombards, was strengthened by the fact that Agilulf s only son, Adalwald, had lately been baptized according to the Catholic rite in the Church of St. John the Baptist at Monza. “We could not but believe,” he wrote to the queen, “that your Christianity would be anxious to protect, by the aid of the Catholic Church, the son you had received as a gift from God, so that our Redeemer might recognize you as His true handmaid, and might cause your young king to grow up in His fear to be a blessing to the Lombards. Wherefore we pray Almighty God to keep you in the way of His commandments, and to cause our most excellent son Adalwald to advance continually in His love, that as he is already great among men on earth, so he may be also glorious for his good actions in the sight of God. I have caused to be sent to my most excellent son some phylacteries, to wit, a cross with some wood of our Lord’s holy Cross inserted into it, and a passage from the holy Gospel in a Persian case. I have also sent my daughter, his sister, three rings, two of them set with sapphires and one with onyx. I beg you to give them these presents yourself, that my love may be more acceptable to them, as being transmitted through you.”

So after many struggles for peace and many disappointments, Gregory on his death-bed had the satisfaction of thinking that there was at least a promise of better times in store for his country and people. The war, indeed, was not at an end. The Emperor could not recognize the Lombards, nor would the Lombards make concessions to the Empire. The continuance of the fighting, under the circumstances, was inevitable. But its acute stage was past, and the peace which the Pope had striven so hard to obtain was destined to be frequently renewed. And then, again, although it seems fairly certain that at the time of Gregory’s death King Agilulf had not himself become a Catholic, yet, under the influence of the Pope exerted through Theudelinda, he had shown himself ready to treat his Catholic subjects with tolerance and consideration, and had even per­mitted his son to be baptized according to the orthodox rite. Such an example could not fail to have its effect upon the chiefs and the people, and the result was that the ill-feeling between invaders and invaded, hitherto embittered by religious differences, began to be more and more softened and allayed. Well might Gregory hope, as he dictated his last letter to the Lom­bard queen, that the work which he had begun with so much pain would be continued, on yet ampler scale, in the time to come.

In his relations with the Lombards Gregory shows himself in the character alike of a peacemaker and a patriot Through all the weary years of his pontificate peace was the great desire of his heart. To secure this he laboured incessantly. Undaunted by Lombard treachery or Roman coldness, he pressed both friend and foe with ceaseless solicitations until his purpose was achieved. Yet, eager though he was for peace, Gregory was not disposed to purchase it by ignoble concessions. He would not break faith with the Emperor, though the Emperor rewarded his patriotic efforts with ingratitude and insult; nor would he yield to a barbarian master the city which was still to him the mistress of the world. There can be little doubt that, during these years of struggle, the fate of Rome depended on Gregory alone. It rested with him to decide whether the city of the Caesars should yet be the home of classical tradition, the abiding light of Europe through centuries of intellectual darkness, or whether, as the seat of some ignorant Lombard duke, it should gradually pass into decay and insignificance. Had Gregory chosen the latter alternative, it is impossible to conceive what would have been the after-history of Italy and the European world. But, true Roman as he was, Gregory made the other choice, and thereby has established an enduring claim upon the gratitude of the race.

Finally, Gregory’s dealings with the Lombards manifest in remarkable fashion the growth of the temporal power of the Papacy. Already we find the Bishop of Rome a political power, a temporal prince. He appoints governors to cities, he issues orders to generals, he provides the munition of war, he makes a private peace, he sends ambassadors to negotiate with the Lombard king, he determines with sovereign authority what must be done in Rome, he encroaches without the slightest hesitation on the rights and privileges of the civil government. In this direction Gregory went further than any of his predecessors. It was not that he consciously aimed at usurpation; rather circumstances compelled him to assume a sovereignty which the rightful owners were unable to maintain. The weakness of the secular government was the source of his strength; the failure of others forced him to go and meet success. But whether or not Gregory, desired to push himself into the seat of the temporal ruler, certain it is that at the close of the sixth century the Romans learnt to regard their Bishop as something more than an ecclesiastical personage, whose functions lay solely with spiritual concerns. Now for the first time the Pope appeared in the full exercise of an authority which, if unavowed and unacknowledged, was no less real than that of any secular potentate. The successor of St. Peter, as a power not only in heaven but also on earth,—such was the spectacle which Gregory presented to an astonished world. And the lesson, learnt then, has never since been forgotten.

BOOK II. CHAPTER VII.

GREGORY’S RELATIONS WITH THE FRANKS