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CHAPTER XVI.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF ECCLESIASTICAL
ORGANISATION
AND ITS FINANCIAL BASIS.
The attempt will be made in this chapter to trace the medieval system of
Church administration from its beginning in the legislation of the Roman Empire
and in the custom of the Teutonic tribes, down to the time of its full
development under the great Popes of the thirteenth century. The system was in
most ways so uniform, at any rate on paper, that illustrations from one region
will serve as well as those taken from another, and for the present purpose
English examples will be preferred, where they can be found. For the general
course of the history it will be necessary that we
should limit ourselves to those central countries of Europe where the scheme of
government was worked out under the influence of Carolingian monarchs and of
Popes; comparatively few words can be said of the peculiarities of outlying
regions. There is, indeed, little that is abnormal in any part of Western
Europe. Italy had been under Teutonic influence from the time of the Goths and
Lombards. Spain was recovered from the Moors at the very time when the medieval
system was reaching maturity, and its institutions were modelled on those of
Aquitaine and Provence. The lands to the east of Germany borrowed their Church
discipline from that country, and the Scandinavian lands from Germany and England,
while Anglo-Norman influence gave a new shape to the Churches of Scotland and
Ireland. And, in an enquiry which will concern itself chiefly with revenues and
their effect upon organisation, it will be necessary to ignore voluntary and
occasional donations, however considerable, and to confine attention to
endowments consisting in, or derived from, landed
property.
The bishop, under the system of the
Christianised Roman Empire, was an autocrat. His position was assimilated to
that of the governor of a civil area, and the boundaries of his territory were
the same as those of the governor’s. He was regarded as responsible for the
discipline, the doctrine, and the administration of his diocese; and often
enough if he displeased the Emperor he was dismissed as though he were a
secular official. He was the sole dispenser of the revenues of the diocese, and
of the liberal imperial benefactions. He was the sole authorised recipient of
endowments which soon began to be generously bestowed, often in the form of
lands which might lie outside the bounds of the diocese, or even, especially in
the case of the Roman see, be in distant provinces. No endowments for local
purposes existed; everything passed through the hands of the bishop, the one
responsible officer of the Church. To his central fund the clergy looked for subsistence, and were the more tightly bound in that they
were confined to the diocese of their ordination. But the bishop was bound to
maintain them, though he could at his discretion increase or diminish their
allowance, and they had no appeal against his decision. The dependents on the
church, widows and virgins and poor persons on its roll, were supported from
the same fund, which also paid for the training of the clergy and for the cost
of building churches; a heavy burden when Christians were rapidly increasing in
number. This episcopal control was explained and justified by the feet that it
was the bishop who had admitted every Christian into the Church and so was
responsible for him. To this day in many Italian cities no baptism has been
administered save in the bishop’s baptistery.
The system might work while
Christianity was a religion of the town. It broke down when the faith spread
over the country parts, as it did through the efforts of such men as St Martin
of Tours in the last generations of the Western Empire. In fact, a complete
system of bishoprics had hardly been established in the Western provinces when
conditions were altered by the German invasions. When the storm came the bishop
might exercise a magnificent liberality, perhaps from accumulated funds, to
meet the distresses of the time. He might even, as government grew weak, become
practically the ruler of his city. But this could not help him in regard to his
rule over the population which lay outside his “ Christianity,”
as the city and its environs were sometimes called.
Two partial attempts had been made to
meet the need before the invasions. The bishops themselves had raised a
certain number of churches at scattered points some distance apart, where
priests of their own appointment ministered. Their choice of place was limited
to possessions of their own, for such priests received as their maintenance precariae, or revocable grants of land to be
enjoyed during their tenure of office; there was no thought of security of
tenure. These priests, whose position was that of the clergy officiating at
what were called “the old minsters” in the first phase of the conversion of
England, were the most important persons, after the bishop, in the work of the
diocese; they were often styled “cardinal priests.” For they, as the bishop’s
delegates, had the power of baptising, and every official act of theirs was as
effective as his; for in fact it was his. But such
churches were never numerous. In his diocese of Tours the great missionary St Martin established six, his successor five, and the
work afterwards proceeded slowly.
It was hastened, or rather in a sense
frustrated, by the independent action of the laity. The possessors took
the task in hand. The land within the Empire had fallen into few hands; great
estates with almost servile coloni covered the
provinces. Some of these had been bestowed on the bishops, and in places
outside their dioceses. It was natural that they should promote Christianity;
they built churches and maintained the clergy. The question arose in the fifth
century as to the jurisdiction over such churches. It was claimed by the bishop
in whose diocese they lay. But he had contributed nothing to the building or to
the ministry; the bishop who owned the land maintained his rights as possessor. There was no definite solution of the problem. The ultimate result was the
existence everywhere of a multitude of “peculiars,” such as those which
belonged to the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Bishop of Durham till the
nineteenth century. Within such areas the bishop whose jurisdiction surrounded
them had no authority. The lay possessor claimed no less right than the
episcopal. He might be, like Sulpicius Severus or
Paulinus of Nola, himself in orders but his patrimony was secular property. He
built his church and supported his ministry, and resolutely excluded the bishop
from an institution to which he had contributed nothing. A compromise was
reached. The bishop insisted on his right of supervision, but the great man
might have his church—it is even spoken of as his parochia—on
condition that he endowed it, to secure its
permanence. Here was a new thing—ecclesiastical property not vested in the
bishop, and over the administration of which, provided there were no scandal,
he had no control. How numerous such autonomous churches were we do not know; probably they were more in number than the bishop’s own, but
they were far from providing a complete parochial system. To these lay foundations
we must add those that were erected on the lands with which monasteries were
liberally endowed. They had an equal claim to exemption, for it was the
generosity of the monks that provided them; and monks as yet were usually laymen, and in any case no monastery was, as such, subject to
episcopal authority.
Thus there came to be a great practical diminution of the bishop’s
authority: numerous parishes with which he and his central fund had nothing to
do. And the popular belief of the time justified this exclusion. The cult of
saints became universal in the sixth century, and the saint in the eyes of his
votaries was thoroughly alive to his own interests. He was owner of the
property dedicated in his honour, and would defend it
by miracle against aggression. Thus the local, as
against the diocesan, interest was still further fortified. On the other hand,
there was the danger that local control might be abused. Pope Gelasius I did
his best to secure the authority of the bishops, but his injunctions soon came
to be a dead letter; and it was in vain that Gregory the Great insisted that
the founder of a private church should have no rights unless he provided an
endowment, for the endowment itself often reverted to the descendants of
the giver.
There was the special difficulty that
there was no uniformity of endowment, no right or
property that normally belonged to the clerical incumbent, and from the absence
of which it might be presumed that he had been unjustly treated. This normal
endowment was bestowed by Teutonic paganism upon Christianity in the form of
glebe. The Christian priest is the heir of his pagan predecessor. The evidence
is ample that the head of the village community was originally its priest, that
the temple was his,
that in course of time he delegated
his priestly office to a nominee of his own, retaining the ownership and, more
notably in Scandinavia than elsewhere, taking a share of the profits derived
from the worship. The community was incomplete without priest and temple, and
its members were bound to attend the services, just as they were bound to
fulfil their other customary duties. Thus when the
community, following the example of its lord, became Christian, there was an
obvious source of maintenance for the priest of the new worship. Men would not
be less generous to him than to his pagan predecessor. They would support him
in the same way, and choose him in the same manner.
Thus from paganism the Church inherited ecclesiastical patronage and globe land, and also a burdensome load,
which gradually dwindled and disappeared, of rights over the churchbuilding and its services. How complete those rights
were in the later Anglo-Saxon period in England is shhwn in the alliterative
description, handed down in the Textus Roffensis, of the conditions whereby a churl could rise
to the rank of thegn. He must have five hides of land, church and kitchen,
bell-house and manor-court, seat and office of his own
in the king’s hall. The church is his property in the same sense as the
kitchen.
In certain regions, however, what
seems a more primitive system existed. In Lombardy and also in Norway, regions where there is in various respects a similarity of
institutions which must be due to affinity of race, election to the benefice
was often, if not always, in the hands of the parishioners; in Norway of the
“hundred.” It is quite possible that in the English Danelaw and indeed in other
parts where, though the case was exceptional, men not subject to a lord had
constituted their community as a parish by means of an endowment contributed by
themselves, the same case might be found of a village in which the land-holders elected their priest.
If the priest was normally in many
ways in a position of dependence, he had at any rate a definite status within
his community. He had a fixed customary proportion of the cultivated area. With
the lord’s share he had nothing to do, but while each full member, under the
lord, held an equal single share with the others, the priest had a double
portion. To take that frequent case in England of a community with five hides,
or twenty yard-lands, it had eighteen lay partners, and the two
remaining yard-lands were held by the priest. So, when Charles the Great
conquered and settled Saxony, it was ordered in his capitulary that the
Christian priest should have two hufen, no doubt his pagan predecessor had occupied the same area. The continuity is
shown by a strange and general custom, in which there is nothing specifically
Christian. The ecclesiastical tenure was burdened with a servitude, universal
from Scandinavia to the Tyrol, that is
certainly older than the conversion of the Teutonic tribes. The priest was obliged
to provide male animals for the service of the docks and herds of his
parishioners, though not for those of the lord. In England the rule was that he
must furnish bull and boar; elsewhere stallion and ram were often required. Usually two or three of these animals,
varying without apparent cause from place to place, were specified, and, as in
England, were supplied till quite recent times. But the priest was free from
any servile rendering of labour. He was secure in his tenure, the equal of his
congregation, and inferior only to his lord, who could exact such share as he
would from the offerings of the temple but could not seize upon his priest’s
right in fields and commons.
This landed right was the origin of
what in England has come to be called, by a strange development from the
original status, the parson’s freehold. But the profits of the church itself,
its dues and offerings, gave the lord manifold
opportunities. The bishop in his own churches had dictated what proportion of
such revenue should be transmitted to himself, what retained by the minister of
the place. In Gaul in the sixth century the bishop received two-thirds of the oblations, if the canon of the council of Orleans in 511
were observed; but at Braga in 572 this was expressly forbidden. At the same
council, held during the brief rule of the Sueves in
Galicia and Portugal, it was also enacted that he who builds a basilica not
from devotion but from greed, in order to divide the
oblations of the people equally with the clergy because he has built it on his
own land, shall not have his church consecrated by a bishop.
This is proof that the abuse existed,
though the motive of the builder is misrepresented. He was claiming the same
right that his pagan predecessor had enjoyed. The evidence from all parts of
the Teutonic world for the exercise of this right by the lord is convincing. As
the density of settlement increased, the land came to be uniformly studded with
churches built on these terms, and the earlier private churches, raised before
the barbarian conquest, seem to have fallen into line with the later both as to
customary endowment and as to the rights claimed by the lord; in the latter
respect, indeed, there was no difference between churches on lay and on
ecclesiastical lands. The bishops regarded themselves as landlords,
and preferred that the churches on their estates should be held of themselves
by the same tenure as the clergy held theirs of lay lords. They would have the
customary rights of patronage and superiority rather than the more strictly
ecclesiastical authority of an earlier time. Thus the
feudal conception, and with it the technical feudal terms benefice and
advowson, came into use for the definition of the position of the clergy.
This revenue inevitably had a secular
aspect. It was derived from land, and was granted to
the beneficiary by the lord of lands on terms that inevitably suggested a
feudal relation. How thoroughly this view of the case was accepted in England
appears most clearly in the practice whereby all disputes about advowsons fell
under the cognisance, not of ecclesiastical, but of royal courts. If the
position of the clergy was to satisfy their self-respect, they needed another
source of income that should be purely spiritual. Some were to find it in
tithe. This among Christians had a
double origin,
homiletical and e xegetical, of which the latter, and
later, came to be the more important. From the beginning attention was drawn to
the religious practice among the Jews of paying tithe, and believers were
exhorted to follow the example. It was, however, a matter of morals, not of
discipline; tithe is never mentioned in the canons of the classical councils,
promulgated in the fourth and fifth centuries, though they decide points of
every kind that arose in the practical working of the Church. Still, tithe
being a matter for the personal conscience, preachers and writers thought well
to offer guidance, and it was usual to advise that those who felt the duty to
give in this proportion should distribute their alms as the oblations were
already given, viz. dividing them between the bishop, the local clergy, the
poor, and the building or repair of churches. And this scheme of distribution
continued from time to time and in various regions to be inculcated even after
the new teaching had come to discredit it.
This teaching was that the Christian
ministry in its three grades of bishop, priest, and deacon corresponds to that
of the high priest, priest, and levite of the older
dispensation, and that it is therefore the duty of the Christian to provide for
his clergy by the same charge upon his income as had been paid by the Jew.
Tithe is a due which must, at the risk of his soul, be paid by every believer.
This piece of exegesis, whoever was its author, began to be generally accepted
about the year 400, and St Ambrose was its most impressive advocate. It applied
to income from every source; Abraham's offer to the priest Melchizedek of tithe
from the spoil of Eastern kings was especially noted. Thus it was not a specifically local endowment, though his local priest was an
obvious beneficiary if a rich man were seeking an appropriate person to receive
the due proportion of his revenue. But, so long as the recipient was in holy
orders, the duty was fulfilled; any cleric, or body of clerics, above minor
orders satisfied the condition, and we shall see that in fact a great deal,
probably the major part, of tithe failed to reach the hands of the holder of
the glebe, or at any rate was in course of time withdrawn from him. But these
two sources of endowment exerted a reciprocal influence; on the one hand glebe
attracted tithe so that the two in combination came to form the complete
benefice of the persona of a church, and on the other when the tithe of
the lands of a parish passed to some religious corporation it tended to draw
the glebe, at any rate in part, after it, and the vicar had no more than a
minor share in either.
The process was gradual by which the
earlier conception of tithe faded out and was displaced by the notion of an
express obligation towards the clergy. At first the teaching was only
homiletical. Preachers like Caesarius of Arles and
numerous councils, beginning with that of Macon in 585, impressed the moral
duty of obedience and the spiritual danger of defiance. Excommunication was
threatened, and Penitentials taught the sinfulness of
neglecting the law. Thus the custom of payment became
general, and it was an easy step to
turn a duty which was generally recognised into a universal obligation. But as yet the earlier conception prevailed; the payment was to
be for religious purposes and not specifically for the support of the clergy,
nor was attention as yet fixed upon the land and its produce as the source of
tithe. Whether or no it could be enforced in
practice, on paper all income was equally bound to pay its tenth. So Pepin, the
father of Charlemagne, ordained in 765 that “every man, will he or nill he, must give his tithe,” and this example was quickly
followed in England, where the Legatine Council of 787 in its seventeenth
canon first cites commandments of the Old Testament and then proceeds,
“Therefore we earnestly enjoin that all men be zealous to give tithes of all
that they possess, for this is the peculiar property of the Lord God; and lot him live for himself on the nine parts and bestow his
alms.” The distinction between the two duties of tithe-paying and almsgiving
is clearly drawn, and it may be inferred, though it is not said, that tithe has
appropriate recipients other than those on whom alms are bestowed. But all is
left deliberately vague, and in this ambiguous form the law was accepted for
their several kingdoms by the three chief monarchs in England, those of Mercia,
Wessex, and Northumbria. It is reasonable to assume that such a law would not
have been promulgated, unless it gave voice to a general sense of duty and made
universal (at any rate in theory) a practice that was commonly followed. For
such a feeling to grow up must have taken time, and it is not unlikely that
in England the practice first established itself,
and that it was from England that it passed into the Frankish Empire, as a
charge on land.
For tithe was, for practical purposes,
to take this form, while other tithe was to lapse into insignificance, as
having no specific source for assessment or collection. And payment of the
fruits of the earth was familiar throughout the Roman Empire. There was a
land-tax of a tenth, and a tenth was also a customary rent paid by coloni, the largest class of cultivators
under the later Empire. When, in disastrous times, Charles Martel granted out
Church lands on military tenure to soldiers whom he could not otherwise
remunerate, he softened the blow to injured bishops and monasteries by charging
what had hitherto been their own land with a payment of two-tenths to its
former holders. They were to receive one-tenth, and also one-ninth of the remaining nine parts. It was a purely secular arrangement,
based on the familiar payment of a tenth; but it was paid to clergy and in
thought came to be associated with the doctrine of clerical right to tithe, to
which precision was given by this specific charge upon land.
From 751 onwards this notion spread, in
spite of the fact that the burden lay as yet, not on lands in general but on
certain lands only, and as an equivalent for the loss of their enjoyment; and also in spite of the fact that a double tenth was imposed.
But Charlemagne was to complete his grandfather’s work, by making tithe from
land universal throughout
his dominions. The resumption of
Church lands into the hands of the sovereign and their grant under military
tenure had continued, and become so general, that an equally general
compensation had become necessary. It may well be that it was at the suggestion
of Alenin and in obedience to English precedent that
this provision was made for the clergy; for what clergy was not specified. And
when Charlemagne conquered and organised Saxony he extended the law to his new
acquisition. Not only did he provide the clergy with glebe on the customary
Teutonic scale, as we have seen, but also with tithe. All holders of land, the
king included, were to pay tithe ecclesiis et sacerdotibus. Though the clergy
who are to benefit are vet undefined, still the tithe is for clergy, and for
clergy only. No other recipient is mentioned; the exegesis of St Ambrose has
triumphed. From this time tithe, so understood, has a continuous history
throughout Western Christendom; it was introduced into the Spanish peninsula as
this was gradually recovered from Mohammedan rule, and farther north it was
from the first demanded as a right.
We have dealt hitherto with two
general sources for the maintenance of the clergy. Neither glebe nor tithe was
due to individual gifts; they were a universal provision, and it does not seem
that anywhere was there a considerable addition to this revenue. No doubt in
the aggregate special benefactions to the local clergy were numerous; in England,
for instance, it is not uncommon to find benefices with the additional
endowment of a rectory manor, as at Welwyn in Hertfordshire. In
such cases, some lord, probably soon after the Norman Conquest, has bestowed a
parcel of his own rights, and till quite recently the rector has had copyhold
tenants of his own. Yet, in the main, glebe and tithe have been the maintenance
of the benefited, and their history is that of a diminution rather than an
increase of their rights.
When we turn to bishops and monasteries we find persons and institutions who have no
original share in these revenues, but have in course of time largely engrossed
them. The bishop, while the Christian Empire survived in the West, was
subsidised by the State, whose minister he was for ecclesiastical purposes. But
for an independent income of his own he had to await the generosity, which was
for the most part testamentary, of the wealthier members of his flock. Their
benefactions in land might, and often did, lie in quarters distant from his
diocese, and we have seen the consequence in the origin of peculiar jurisdictions. But the bishops had also exercised a considerable delegated
authority on behalf of the. Emperor, and under the disorderly Merovingian rule
none could take their place. For civil purposes they were a necessary
instrument. Thus it was natural that they should be regarded as royal officers,
bearing the same gelation to their king and patron as the priest of the private
church bore to his lord; and also, when royal power grew weak, that the same superiority over bishops should be claimed by local
magnates. Theodoric V, who died in 534, is the first king who is known to have
sold bishoprics. But even if the king did not sell, he habitually gave; and when he allowed canonical
election his approval had to precede consecration. The number of sees
increased, especially in southern France, though important dioceses, such as
Laon, were established elsewhere. These actually received their estates from the sovereign, and it was natural that the older dioceses
should be assumed to hold by the same tenure. As the kingdom extended eastward,
the bishoprics, designed to fulfil a political as well as a religious purpose,
were endowed in the same way; and the feudal conception of the relation of
bishop to king, which first established itself in the Gallic provinces, became
universal. To this superiority of the king there is one striking exception. In
the Laws of Aethelberht, committed to writing soon
after the conversion of Kent, the rights of God and the Church receive a twelve-fold protection, those of the bishop are eleven-fold; king and
priest must content themselves with a nine-fold. In Kent the highest claim
could only be that of Canterbury, and Rochester was the only bishopric. Ninety
years later, in 696, the Laws of Wihtred for the same
kingdom, and those of his contemporary, Ine, for
Wessex, put Church and king on an equality, and afterwards we find no estimation
so high set upon the rights of an English prelate. No doubt the enthusiasm of
converts led Aethelberht and his Witan to this
exaggeration, and the hope that dignity would give strength to enforce
Christianity and morality. The Alemannian laws put
the bishop on the level of the duke; but though a duke of Swabia was a
potentate more important than any English king before Offa, he was definitely subordinate to the Frankish king. English bishops
had been reduced to a much lower estate in the days of Alfred. Under 897 the Chronicle records in a disastrous year the deaths of two bishops and of a number of
leading laymen, aidermen of shiresand others; they are all classed
together as king’sthegns.
The grants of land which led to this
dependence on the Crown were given in the Frankish Empire with the express
intention that the bishop should administer on the monarch’s behalf a definite
portion of his kingdom. On this side of their activities the bishops' status was the same as that of the immediate lay feudatories, and till the
French Revolution some of them continued in Germany, as the sole survivors of
the class, to exercise their original function within their original bounds.
Where royalty was stronger, the bishoprics were less independent. The French
kings had more control over the great sees than over the lay fiefs; and in some cases the laity were in actual possession, by grant
which cannot have been voluntary, of Church lands. The county of Champagne was
to a great extent held, not directly of the Crown, but of a bishop. In Italy,
the bishops, while more powerful in government, were poorer in possessions.
And in England, while they were well endowed with lands, they held a national
rather than a territorial position. There seems no reason to. suppose that
their estates were so placed as to facilitate the visitation of their diocese,
save in the case of Winchester, where the bishop held manors at the distance of
a convenient day’s march westward from Southwark into the county of Somerset.
When the diocese was divided these continued to be attached to the original
see.
Before considering the relation of the
bishops to king and clergy under the Franks, it is necessary to recall the
first phase of Teutonic Christianity. This was Arian, not by any preference on
the part of the German tribes, but because, at the time of the conversion of
the first among them, Arianism was the official creed of the Roman Empire, and
the example was followed by others even after the Empire had reverted to
orthodoxy. Being out of contact with normal Christianity, the tribes were
obliged, even in matters not pertaining to their peculiar doctrine, to work out
an ecclesiastical system for themselves. They were unaffected by the momentous
decree of Valentinian III in 445 that the whole Western Church must be subject
to the authority of the Roman see, and by the vigorous exertion of this
authority on the part of Leo the Great, for they did not recognise the Pope,
and they had little respect for the canonical legislation of the Empire. They
struck out a line of their own, and there is reason to think that they were
influenced by their hereditary paganism. We have seen how the pagan priest was
the predecessor of the Christian incumbent; in the same way the pagan king
seems to have had his chief priest, who represented the sacred aspect of
kingship, and in some ways anticipated the office of the Christian bishop who
succeeded him. In Bede’s famous story of the conversion of Northumbria, King
Edwin has his pagan primus pontificum, who is a member, and
so far as we know the only priestly member, of his
Witenagemot. In the Anglo-Saxon translation of Alfred’s time he is called the senior, or chief bishop, so close did the analogy seem between
his and the Christian office. As religious representative of the king, he would
be nominated by him, as the local priest was by the local lord; and it cannot
be a mere coincidence that the Arian bishop was the nominee of the Gothic king,
and that his attachment was rather to the king than to the diocese. The court
bishop of the Middle Ages seems to be following the Arian example. So when the Norwegians were converted, though it was not to
Arianism, their bishops were the king’s bishops, and accompanied him on his
progresses. Their function was exercised over the whole of his realm, and their
position that of the earlier Arian prelates who had been known as “bishops of
the Goths.” There was no diocesan system in Norway till Hadrian IV organised
the Scandinavian churches in the twelfth century. Similarly, English bishops,
by their constant attendance upon him before the Norman Conquest, showed the
closeness of their association with the king. This idea, ultimately Arian, was
engrafted upon Catholic orthodoxy by Clovis. He found Arianism established in
Gaul as a working system, and had no quarrel with its
administrative side. In fact, since it was prevalent in the more civilised
parts of his kingdom, it was natural that he should
extend it to the rest. Its advantages were obvious; the Arian kings had used
their orthodox bishops as instruments of government over their Roman subjects,
and so might he, and therefore he must control and choose them.
With this Teutonic conception of the
relation of bishop to king the orthodox system,
accepted on paper at any rate, had to be reconciled. That system had grown up
in lands where the church was an institution of the town, and clergy and
congregation had jointly chosen their bishop. It was expressed in the canons of
councils which, were for the most part composed in Greek, though they were familiar,
and regarded as authoritative, in Latin translations throughout the West.
Their provision for a share of the laity in election could not have been
carried out in dioceses like those of the Franks, where the town was
insignificant in comparison with the rural area, and where there was no method
of collecting the laity for the purpose. On occasion the laity of the town took
matters into their own hands, and acclaimed a
candidate who then presented himself for approval to the king. On occasion also
the clergy of the town ventured upon the same stop, with or without lay
concert. But these were exceptional cases, and when they occurred it was not
the clergy of the diocese at large that made the choice, but the bishop's own
staff. We meet here with the origin of the chapter's claim to elect the bishop.
But normally the matter lay in the
hands of the king. There were two reasons for this. The Byzantine system, with
its assumption of divine right for the monarch, was in existence and offered a
principle as well as a precedent for imitation, and the Frankish king did so
much for the bishop that he expected a corresponding return. Whatever the sees had lost by confiscation had been largely returned;
monasteries, which, like those of England in the time of Bede, were fulfilling
no religious purpose, were given to the bishops in compensation for their
losses. But for this a return was demanded. Lands, if they were not to be
secularised, must do service, and especially military service, to the state. So secular did the bishop’s office grow that it became
customary, as we shall see, to divide the estates of the diocese that part of
them might be devoted to ecclesiastical purposes, while the remainder, under
the bishop, served the Crown. The cathedral chapter has its origin in this
precaution. But not military service only was required of the bishops. They
served as missi dominici. In 819 a capitulary speaks
of our missi, whether
bishops, abbots, or counts. Bishops thus were in the exact position of the
episcopal king’s thegns of Alfred. Cathedrals and great abbeys
were regales ecclesiae; during the vacancy of a see its revenues lapsed
to the Crown. And as the endowment was magnificent and the terms on which it
was held the same as those on which nobles held their fiefs, it was natural
that nobles should be chosen for the post and that usually the bishop came not
from the cathedral but from the court. Such was the position of the Frankish
bishop; a position which Alcuin did not venture to criticise in his correspondence
with Charlemagne his master, though he vigorously exhorted English bishops to
resist such aggression against the rights of the Church. There is no reason to
think that they were less submissive than those of Gaul and Germany. In the
following generation Louis the Pious revived, on paper, the right of the
clergy and laity to elect the bishop. We need not suppose that this concession
had any general effect.
The clergy concerned in such an
election came to be limited, though not universally until the twelfth century,
to those who were in the bishop’s immediate service. Early in the Frankish
period there seem to be instances in which the clergy of the see-town exercised
the right. This would have been natural when the city was the essential or
predominant part of the diocese; but where the great majority of the clergy
wore not only at a distance from the city, but were dependent, not on the
bishop but on their lords, no part in the election of the bishop could fall to
them. Not even the bishop’s own clergy, stationed at outlying places to
minister baptism and other needs to the people, were called in to share the
election. And the city clergy themselves came to be excluded, not only from the
election but from any control of the general affairs of the diocese. This was
concentrated in the hands of a corporation of the bishop’s own resident
assistants, who came to be called the cathedral chapter, and stood to the
bishop in the same relation, mutatis mutandis, as the fellows of a
college in the older English universities to the head of their house. The other
clergy of the city were excluded. This body consisted of clerks and monks. It
must be remembered that till the time of Louis the Pious
in the Frankish Empire, and even later
in England, a monk was not necessarily Benedictine; probably those who followed
that rule were a minority among monks. The connotation of the term was vague;
it meant that he who bore it professed to be aiming at the perfect life. The
clerks of the cathedral were usually canons, so called from the canon, or
rotation of the Psalter, which it was their duty to sing; but others had for
their function to execute the orders, whatever they might be, of the bishop.
Originally, no doubt, they had, whether monks or seculars, for the most part
served as missionaries, and all had this in common that their home was within
their precinct, away from which they could have no permanent settlement. Thus,
when private churches in lay ownership became general, their diocesan usefulness
was at an end, and they came to exist only for their cathedral. This did not
lessen the closeness of their connexion with the bishop. He and they formed one
society. As late as 1020 Aethelnoth, monk and dean
in Christ Church, was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. He had been the
resident head, as his predecessors had been since the days of St Augustine, of
a corporation containing both monastic and secular elements; though by his time
the idea of a pure Benedictine community had become prevalent, and it was
believed that cathedral bodies of that type had existed from their foundation. We must think of these mixed
societies as considerable in the number of their members and loose in their
organisation. As one body with the bishop they were partners with him in an
undivided estate; the bishop could perform no act of importance in relation to
it without the consent of his colleagues. In the old canons the bishop had been
bidden to give account of his transactions to his clergy; St Benedict had
enjoined upon the abbot that in important matters he should take counsel with
the senior monks. Both these precedents carried weight; even afterthe separation of interests, to which we shall come,
there were cases, as at Verden and Hereford, where,
till the end of the Middle Ages and later, the acts of neither were valid
unless confirmed by the seal of the other member of the partnership. Such
control was irksome. This was first felt by chapters which found that the
burdens, often military, imposed by the state upon their bishop left him
without sufficient resources to maintain his cathedral. The only remedy was
that there should be a division of properties; the bishop’s promise of a share
of the income would have been an insufficient security, for he might have been powerless to fulfil it. The earliest known example
of such a division is at Sens in 825; it was copied at Nevers in 849, and at
Cologne in 866, where the collegiate churches subordinate to the see, the
original baptismal churches or “old minsters” as they were called in England,
also received a specific endowment from the properties of the see. In such
cases the perpetuity and independence of the foundation was further secured by
fixing the number of the beneficiaries and giving them at least the rudiments
of a constitution. The separation was welcomed as a measure of religious reformation, since it removed the chapter from the dangers
of the world. The development of the cathedral system into its complete shape
must be considered hereafter.
In regard to the parishes, the Carolingian period saw a serious encroachment. We
have seen that the parish church and the lordship of land hung together. The
lords had their churches, the bishop had his, and it came to be usual, if not
universal, for the bishop in his capacity as landholder to put himself into a
feudal, instead of a directly episcopal, relation to the clergy upon whom he
had conferred benefices. But it was a new thing that churches should be
separated from the land and bestowed on a bishop or a monastery. They were so
given, from the seventh century onwards, in increasing numbers. This was not
merely a transference of patronage, creating advowsons in gross, to use the
technical English term; the churches, as a source of income, were bestowed.
This threw upon the new proprietors the responsibility of providing the local
ministrations, together with the enjoyment of the revenues after paying the
necessary expenses. As yet there was no thought of
vicars with security of tenure. When the see of Wurzburg was founded in 741,
the bishop received twenty-five churches situated on royal lands from the king,
as well as lands for himself on which churches had been established,
or might be as population spread. In the same generation the monastery
of St Gall was
similarly endowed with churches, and
the example was followed in all countries, chiefly in favour of religious
houses. They were able to turn such gifts to profit, especially if the tithe
were annexed to the benefice, while the donor lost no income by his generosity.
But a still more serious obstacle to the establishment of an independent clergy
was set up when Otto the Great in 948 endowed the dioceses of Brandenburg and Havelberg, which he was founding with a view to the
conversion of the Wends, with the whole of the tithes. This was for the support
of the bishops, who were but poorly furnished with lands by the founder. In
fact, the whole history, in France to greater excess than elsewhere, was to be
one of a steady diminution of the resources available for the parish clergy,
and a corresponding lowering of their status.
For the supervision of the clergy the
immediate local authority, under the bishop, was the rural dean or archpriest,
sometimes also called, in the earliest period, the cardinal priest or the
bishop’s dean, or, again, the dean of Christianity. Decanus is a word of general use from the fourth century onwards for the lowest
officer, military, monastic, or other, who has men under him. The number ten
which it indicates can never have been strictly adhered to when it came into
general use. There is reason to think that both in England and in Germany the hundred of civil administration was the area of the
original rural deanery, and that the deaneries sometimes retain boundaries
older than those of the hundreds of the later Middle Ages. It may be only an
accident that no record remains of rural deans in England before the Norman
Conquest, but it is perhaps more likely that the office was imported by
Lanfranc, for “rural dean” was the name borne in the province of Rouen. In the
Frankish kingdom, the office is found even in the sixth century and had become
universal in the ninth; and since it was as yet the
only local office within the diocese its importance tended to increase till it
was eclipsed by the archdeaconry. The rural dean or archpriest—one or other of
these names came to prevail in different regions—had definite duties of
supervision over clergy and laity such as were afterwards engrossed by the
archdeacon, and he had a seal of office. But his office was never a benefice.
It lost its importance because of the inevitable inefficiency of amateur judges
in moral and ecclesiastical causes, whose sphere of duty was so narrow that it
was impossible for them to provide trained assistance. Yet the deanery as an
area of administration was maintained in existence, and it is said that in
Germany it had a revival of importance towards the end of the Middle Ages, the
bishops favouring officers dependent on themselves as
against archdeacons who had attained independence. But there were cases in
which there was an interchange of name between archdeacons and rural deans. In
the diocese of Halberstadt there were thirty
archdeacons, rural deans with a higher title, while the diocese of Grenoble was
under four archpriests, archdeacons with a humbler designation.
The name of archdeacon both in Latin
and Greek dates from the fourth century. Custom required that every priest, and a fortiori, every bishop, should be accompanied in the discharge of his
duties by a deacon. The bishop’s deacon had a position of peculiar importance;
he was sometimes specifically called deacon of the town over which his bishop
presided. As representative of the bishop he exercised a wide general
supervision of the clergy, which the council of Châlon in the middle of the
seventh century describes as coercive. He also administered the central
finances of the diocese and the bishop, but he did so without security of
tenure. He was archdeacon so long as the bishop chose, and no longer. Nor was
he locally connected with any part of the diocese, but exercised the functions
entrusted to him throughout its whole extent. In spite of these limitations his office was so important that at Rome, where election to
the see was a reality, the archdeacon was often chosen as successor to the
bishop. He was necessarily in deacon’s orders; it is not till the twelfth
century that it became usual for a priest to hold an archdeaconry, and even then protests wore made, though without avail, against the
innovation.
In the Frankish period two
considerations were effectual to give a new position to the bishop. The Roman
imperial idea of the divine right of the monarch was accepted as valid for the
Teutonic king; and the Church was regarded as national. From 511, the date of
the first council of Orleans, councils were summoned by the king, who presided
in them. Archbishops and bishops sat side by side as equals, for all were
equally the men of the king by whose grant they held their lands. The archbishoprics
were but nominal, for they had no provincial jurisdiction, and provincial
boundaries were disregarded, as when the historical connexion of Augsburg with
Aquileia and of Chur with Milan was disregarded. They were treated simply as
bishoprics within the Frankish State, whatever their ecclesiastical
associations. Similarly in England, where unity in the Church preceded unity in
the State, it is difficult to discriminate between Church and lay assemblies.
In the latter, ecclesiastical ordinances were passed, while, in the former,
kings and leading laymen were present and attested the record of the
proceedings. And both in England and under the Franks, bishops, as royal
officers, took an active share in public affairs. In England, from early in the
ninth century, bishops fought and fell in battle, and the military duty of
Frankish bishops during the same period became one of their most conspicuous
functions.
In contrast with this national and
feudal conception of the bishop’s office was the papal. The policy of the Popes
was to make the provincial system a reality, and to govern the Church through
the archbishops. These must be strong, yet not strong enough to claim
independence. The ineffectual struggles of Arles against Roman domination,
though complicated by the fact that the metropolitan had accepted the office
of papal vicar for Gaul, are proof of the seriousness with which this Roman
claim
was urged, and of success in keeping
the archbishops in subjection. But the Popes had as yet no success in raising them to the headship of a subordinate hierarchy. One such
attempt, political as well as ecclesiastical, was made when in 716 the Duke of
Bavaria undertook to establish an effective province for his dominions, so
withdrawing his bishops from the Frankish councils and entering
into connexion with Rome, But this was frustrated by Charles Martel. The
scheme had papal approval; the next effort was made by a Pope. The English St
Boniface was a devoted servant of the Papacy, who regarded his commission from
Rome as his authority to preach the Gospel. He received it, before he began his
work, from Gregory II, and kept in constant, relation with his papal patrons.
The position assigned him was that of an archbishop without a see, but with a
general superintendence over his converts to the east of the Rhine. He was
never Archbishop of Mayence, an office not created
till after his death, but archbishop by papal nomination and papal legate,
holding simultaneously the bishopric of Mayence. He
made effective use of his authority, assembling synods and making his province a reality. He thus prepared the downfall of the
Frankish system, which came as soon as the Empire grew weak and the Pope advanced a theory and established a system which displaced the
Carolingian.
But till after the death of
Charlemagne the imperial theory and practice held their ground. In a society
comparatively simple it seemed possible that one authority, divinely appointed,
could regulate all the affairs of men. The tenure by which the Pope held his
estates was exactly the same as that of a duke of
Aquitaine or Bavaria, and to the monarch he seemed to belong to the same class
as other prelates of his dominions. The sovereign held himself the possessor of
authority in regard to the administration as well as
the doctrine of the Church; and in the eyes of Charlemagne, in whom this phase
of ecclesiastical theory found its full expression, papal authority was
inferior to his own whenever he chose to exercise his rights.
Nothing but continuous success could
have made such claims plausible. When the Carolingian Empire began to be
overwhelmed by calamity and incompetence, it was inevitable that papal claims
to occupy the vacant seat of authority should be put forward. This was done,
when the Empire was at its lowest point in efficiency and morality, by Nicholas
I (858-867). Profoundly convinced of the justice of his claims, he asserted
that he was a divinely appointed autocrat over the Church, from whose judgment
there is no appeal. Bishops bear rule as his delegates, and when the great Hincmar of Rheims showed signs of independence which might
have made his metropolitan office a reality he was promptly humiliated. Metropolitans were to be the Pope’s agents for the supervision of
their provinces and nothing more. Councils were only to be held when sanctioned
by the Pope; thus the Frankish system of councils of
the Empire, held by the Emperor’s authority, was condemned. Charged with
functions so high
the Pope could have no earthly
superior, nor even equal, and therefore (though this conclusion was not so
bluntly drawn as in later times) the Emperor must be subordinate to him. In the
development of this argument the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals are quoted for the first time. It must remain an open question
whether Nicholas knew that they were forgeries; their primary purpose was
certainly rather that of weakening the French metropolitan than of magnifying
the office of the Pope. But they served the Pope’s purpose, and there is no
reason to think that his standard of honesty was higher than that of his and
the succeeding centuries. Every important church constructed or profited by
forgeries such as were produced by Lanfranc in the strife between Canterbury
and York, and at an earlier date by Bremen to the prejudice of Cologne. The
authors, rightly or wrongly, were convinced of the justice of their claim, and
counted it no wrong that they should take a short cut towards their end by
advancing pleas likely to satisfy those whom it was their object to persuade.
But as yet such claims could not be made effectual. They were not to be withdrawn, but in
rivalry with them the Empire, when new and stronger dynasties arose, was to
maintain its ascendancy, and in time was to develop a theory of its own in
justification of its practice. Meanwhile under the Ottos the Crown recovered
its position in Germany. Like Charles the Great the kings chose the bishops,
the semblance of canonical election being maintained but the reality
frustrated, for the election was held either in the monarch’s presence or at
his court. The bishops did service for their fiefs by an active life of
statesmanship; one Archbishop of Cologne was also Duke of Lorraine. All sees
were held directly from the Crown, in contrast to the practice of France, where
the great nobles, such as the Duke of Normandy, were patrons of bishoprics in
their dominions as fully as the king was in his. To this rule there were,
however, exceptions, and the fact that among the twelve traditional peers of
France were six bishops, whose sees in some cases lay outside the direct domain
of the king, is evidence of a special connexion between him and them. But the
sovereign not only wielded authority over existing sees. The extension of
German influence was promoted under the Ottos by the foundation, without
reference to Rome, of sees in Denmark and to the east of the Elbe. Imperial
control of the bishoprics was maintained till Frederick Barbarossa gave the
patronage of those in Lower Saxony to Henry the Lion, with the view of
strengthening the defenders of the north-eastern frontier. After Henry’s fall
the immediate authority of the Emperor over those sees was resumed and
maintained. As the Empire grew weaker several of the eastern sees fell under
the control of local princes; and when some small dioceses were carved out of
Salzburg the advosonw of them was vested in the
archbishop. But in Germany the general tendency was an increase of secular
independence on the part of the bishops. In France the appointment of see after see passed by conquest or inheritance
to the king, the process not becoming
complete till in 1714 Louis XIV deprived the Duke of Nevers of his patronage of the small see of Clamecy,
on no other ground than that it was unfitting that a French bishopric should be
in other hands than those of the king. In England, some attempts were made by
marcher lords to obtain control of the Welsh bishoprics by entry on their
possessions during vacancy or by efforts to dictate elections, but they had no success; and the last traces of the
ancient superiority of Canterbury over Rochester disappear in the thirteenth
century. Mediate bishoprics never existed in England.
This feudal relation of bishop to king
carried with it incidents of feudal tenure. Royal
investiture, and the struggles against it, are part of general history, as is
the compromise bv which an apparent, victory was won
by the Pope, while substantially kings and Emperors lost nothing of their
practical influence over the choice of bishops. Standing in feudal relation to
the grantor of their lands, these were bound to fulfil the duties, whether of
giving counsel or military support, in return for which the grant was made. If
the office were vacant, the service could not be rendered, and it seemed
equitable that, as with a lay fee when the heir was a minor, the revenue should
lapse to the Crown till a successor capable of discharging the duty should be
appointed. Hence the abuse of prolonged vacancies, as in the time of William II
in England. But a reasonable interval was assumed, as in the Statute of
Westminster of 1275. The right included, and still includes, that of presentation to benefices in the gift of the vacant see, which the new
occupant recovers after paying homage. In England this is the sole right now
exercised by the Crown. Elizabeth was the last sovereign to abuse the
traditional privilege. In France the royal right to the profits of the see was
exercised till the Revolution, though in certain dioceses the claim to
patronage was unsuccessfully disputed. In Germany the power of the Crown was
insufficient to maintain such a claim.
If the Papacy failed to detach the
bishops from their dependence on the sovereign, it was successful in
establishing a system of provincial and diocesan councils which were effective
in creating uniformity and centralisation, and also in averting the danger of national Churches. In England it was only on the rare
occasions of a legatine council that the two provinces met together, while in
France the assembling of the first States General in 1302, at which the whole
clergy of France was represented, was one of the measures of opposition to
Boniface VIII taken by Philip the Fair. This provincial system, completed for
Western Europe by the Scandinavian legation of the future Pope Hadrian IV and
by the Synod of Cashel, drew the Church together, promoted uniformity and the
corporate sense, and also linked the several provinces
with Rome. Thus accustomed to act as a class, the
clergy withdrew from secular courts and organised an exclusive system of their
own. This was sanctioned for England by the undated ordinance of the Conqueror,
which forbids a bishop or archdeacon to hold pleas
concerning “episcopal laws” in a hundred court. The bishop is to hear the case
and pass judgment at the seat of his bishopric or other place of his choice, in
accordance with the canons and episcopal laws. No sheriff or other officer of
the king nor any layman is to intrude in the matter, but contempt of the
bishop’s court is to be punished by the king or sheriff.
Thus the clergy tended to become a close corporation, the constitution of
which inevitably became feudal. The relation of the beneficed clergy to the
bishop resembled that of the bishop to the king. No longer is the parish priest
the man of the lord who appointed him; he becomes the bishop’s man. Perhaps
Lanfranc’s canon of 1076, whereby no more service is to be rendered for a
benefice than had been paid in the time of King Edward, is evidence that
patrons (to use the later term) were giving a feudal interpretation to their
relation to the beneficed, for the wording of the canon is so general that it can
hardly be limited to endowments granted on a secular tenure. But
in any case it is a reference to an expiring conception. After the
Conquest the tenure was so thoroughly feudalised that the essential element in
institution to a benefice was an act of homage followed by a grant. And the
same obligation lay upon the grantee as in the case of a lay fee. The beneficed
clergy had on special occasions, such as a visit of the bishop to Rome, to
defray his necessary expenses, just as the tenants of a lay lord gave an aid on
such occasions as the knighting of his eldest son. This burden survived the
Reformation, for under Elizabeth bishops such as Aylmer of London and Bentham
of Lichfield demanded it with success. It must be borne in mind that this
feudal duty was compensated by a feudal protection. The security of tenure was actually increased by the obligation laid upon the bishop of
maintaining the rights of his man.
But the medieval bishop too often
neglected his duties. A substitute was found in the chorepiscopus, a
title found in the Eastern canons and adopted though not always understood in
the West. The office seems to have been introduced from the East by Theodore of
Canterbury as a regular institution. In England it did not gain much
importance, though “county bishops” without diocese are found in the tenth
century who are exactly what “chorepiscopus” indicates, and though archbishops
of Canterbury had assistants, sometimes called by this name, down to the
reforms of Lanfranc. But on the Continent, when the work of such men as Willibrord and Boniface spread, they were faced by the
difficulty that the canons, framed in a town-bred Christianity, made no
provision for dioceses in townless lands. So where
sees could not be founded, chorepiscopi were multiplied. They were kept in
subordination; a diocesan would speak of “my bishop,” and as a sign of
inferiority such assistants were usually, and not only in cases of necessity,
consecrated by the diocesan alone. But useful as they were in the missionary
stage, they became an abuse when secular bishops, even in regions of
established Christianity, employed them to discharge their proper duties, and
when sees were left indefinitely vacant for a monarch’s profit, with the excuse
that a chorepiscopus was doing what was needful. Thus there was a serious evil, which was combated by the usual method of forgery.
Beside the respectable chorepiscopi whom Theodore had brought in, there had
been in the East ambiguous officers bearing the same name, against whom many
canons had been framed. They had not been bishops, but delegates for
quasi-episcopal functions, who had often exceeded their commission. It was now
assumed that the Western chorepiscopi were of this unsatisfactory class, and a
campaign was started against their very existence, as condemned by the canons.
Pseudo-Isidore and his predecessors made early Popes denounce them, and
Nicholas I assented, though somewhat faintly. The result was a compromise at a
Council at Metz in 888. They were recognised as bishops, but must not take the place of a diocesan. They might not consecrate a church,
though they might ordain a priest. An absentee bishop was not tempted to employ
an assistant so limited, and the class died out, surviving last in England.
Such assistant bishops as subsequently appear are absentees from dioceses of
their own, and they are nowhere numerous. But with the failure of the Crusades
a multitude of sees in the East became nominal, yet it seemed unworthy of
Christendom to confess to failure. The occupants found work as assistants to
European diocesans, and as they died out the names of their sees were bestowed
on men who were never expected to visit their diocese. But the forms were
scrupulously carried out. A bishop would be consecrated to Gallipoli, for example,
and would promise canonical obedience to his Metropolitan of Heraclea, whose
see was as shadowy as his own. He would then, as if with surprise,
discover that the unbelievers made it impossible for him to live at Gallipoli,
and that no income could be drawn from that place. He would therefore petition
the Pope to let him retain the abbey or other preferment he had held, and this
would be granted; and till he could obtain possession of his see he was allowed
to assist any Catholic bishop who desired his aid. He would then, if he were
well endowed, settle down for life as assistant bishop in the diocese whence
his revenues were drawn; if he were less fortunate, he might live a wandering
life as temporary helper in several successive dioceses. Unsatisfactory as this
system was, it was a real and practical reform, for from the latter half of the
thirteenth century onwards there was no failure of consecrated bishops to
perform the spiritual functions of the office according to the standard of the
age.
There had been no failure in regard to the business side of the episcopal office, but
it largely passed into new hands. The archdeacon ceased to be the servant of
the bishop; his office became a benefice. It seems
impossible to fix the dates or to discover the process by which this change was
effected in the various countries; it was, to the
thought of the times, a natural development. It began, about the tenth century,
in the assignment to the archdeacon of a definite region in which he should
represent the bishop. This grant was regarded as for life: and so a
new authority, independent in practice, came into being. In the thirteenth
century archdeacons in Germany were describing themselves as “archdeacon by the
grace of God.” Being no longer in that relation to the bishop which had been
indicated by their membership of the order of deacons, they regarded themselves
as released from limitation to that order. From the tenth century archdeacons
in priest’s orders are to be found; yet as late as St Anselm’s council of
Westminster in 1102 a canon was passed that archdeacons should be deacons. This
however was only a protest, and an ineffectual one, against a well-established
practice. By his time most of the English counties had their archdeacons,
though local archdeaconries had been unknown here before the Conquest. In
England, as elsewhere, archdeaconries varied widely in importance. The larger
they were, and the more remote from an episcopal centre, the greater their
powers. For instance, in the immense archdeaconry of Richmond the institution
to benefices and the nomination of rural deans belonged to the archdeacon, not
to the Archbishop of York. The value of an archdeaconry consisted largely in
legal profits, drawn chiefly from the proving of wills. It needed therefore, as
soon as canon law developed, a legal training. But since archdeacons were often
appointed without regard to this, and were frequently absentees, they came to
delegate their work to expert officials. The bishops took the same step, regularly
appointing vicars-general and officials commissioned to discharge their
administrative and litigious tasks. These officers, who never obtained a
benefited position, and therefore were dependent on the bishop, maintained his
interest in the rivalry which inevitably rose between him and the archdeacon.
The latter, however, was made conscious of his subordination by the power of
visitation which the bishop regularly exercised over him, in person or by
proxy, and during which the archdeacon was suspended from the exercise of his
office.
A reason for the archdeacon’s
independence was that he belonged to a corporate body from which it was the
desire of the bishop to detach himself. We have seen that a division of
interests between bishop and chapter Was earned out in the Frankish Empire in
the interest of religious observance. The group of men who were charged with
the maintenance of cathedral worship could not be assured of continuity except
by a complete separation from the bishop; his revenues were charged with
political and military burdens, and he could only provide for his cathedral by
detaching a definite proportion of his revenues, and also of his rights; for he
could riot maintain his control, if he wished it, over a corporation whose
finances were no concern of his. Thus his concern with
the internal affairs of the cathedral were limited to a visitation, not
regularly performed and often disputed. Since there were no diocesan duties,
except for archdeacons, when the diocese was fully provided with clergy, the
great church came to exist for its own services as much as did that of any
monastery. Only when the bishop used it on official occasions did it serve the
purpose for
which it had been founded; though
traditional visits to the mother church by its parochial daughters were
prescribed, they were not always fulfilled. This detachment from the diocese
was encouraged by benefactions which often were extradiocesan. To take an
English example, Salisbury was endowed with churches and estates scattered over
the country from Grantham to the neighbourhood of Plymouth, and few cathedrals
had no distant sources of income. In England the separation from the bishop was
accomplished soon after the Conquest; in some cases the deed of severance has been preserved, the most noteworthy being that
executed by St Osmund of Salisbury. In the division of interests the bishop
usually surrendered not only estates and churches but jurisdictions. The
cathedral body received episcopal rights, such as that of institution and
deprivation, over specified places. Jurisdiction was regarded as a source of
income; a striking parallel is to be seen in the creation in 1098 of the
Apostolic Legateship for the Count of Sicily by Urban II.
So complex a property as that of a well-endowed cathedral could not be
managed by medieval methods of accountancy, and the major part was broken up
into separate prebends, each member of the corporation having his separate revenue.
In great cathedrals these might number fifty or more. To a few prebends
definite duties were attached. As for the remainder, they became
simply sources of income without cure of souls. Originally the members
had performed every function, but, when they came to regard their office as a
sinecure, inferior officers were introduced, to sing the services and serve as
choirmen, who were not members of the corporation, but often formed subsidiary
corporations of their own, so gaining in their turn a secure tenure. But the
feeling arose that some of the large number of prebendaries should be resident,
to attend the services and conduct the affairs of the cathedral. This smaller
number, usually elected from their own ranks by the prebendaries, themselves
nominated by the bishop, received a further endowment. This was just, for they
had not the same liberty as their brethren, who might be royal clerks, Italian
absentees, or otherwise employed. But a further custom arose that the
residentiaries should reside in turn, it being regarded as sufficient that one
should be on duty at a time. Furthermore, the whole body, now that the bishop
had left it to its own devices, heeded a head. This was the dean, who was
elected by the body over which he was to preside. In some of the greatest
German cathedrals there was also a provost, who superintended the secular
affairs of the foundation, and tended to become a magnate without part in its
inward life.
The history of the cathedrals was also
that of the larger collegiate churches. That in neither case was there any
hostile criticism appears from the frequent foundation of additional prebends
by benefactors who knew that they would be an endowment charged with no duties.
On the
constitutional, and administrative
side the history of the monasteries was
similar to that of the great secular churches. No distinction need be drawn
between those of the Benedictine and the Augustinian rule. Both had begun as
congeries of isolated houses, only connected in so far as they followed the
same rule; though joint houses of monks and regular canons are found abroad in
the ninth century, nor is it likely that in England this combination was
confined to the cathedrals. All, till some gained exemption, were subject to
the bishop. They stood also in a permanent subordination to the founder and his
successors. This might be a bishop who had dedicated certain of his lands to
the purpose; it might be a sovereign whose ancestors had founded it, or to whom
the fundatorial rights had fallen by escheat or
forfeiture; it might be some private nobleman. The rights, like any other
advowson, might be sold or otherwise transferred. They passed with the rest of
the estate to a new purchaser, or might be given to some religious house,
perhaps of a different order. Thus the Benedictines of
Durham held the patronage of more than one house of canons. The founder’s power
included that of granting congé d'élire on a vacancy of the headship, though this was
not usually, at least in England, accompanied by a letter nominating the
successor. During the vacancy the founder’s officers entered
into possession of the revenues, though in practice this came to be
limited to those which were appropriated to the headship. And, finally, the
founder had the right of charging the monastery with pensioners, who held for
life “corrodies” within it. The division of the abbot’s interest from those of
his convent began at the same time, and with the same motive, as that between
bishop and chapter. The abbacy was so wealthy a post, and one so detached from
the daily life of the community, that it tended to become secularised. This was
less the case in England than elsewhere, though abbots, as great
tenants-in-chief, sat in Parliament. But in France the system of commendams made many abbotships purely nominal,
while in Germany, when ecclesiastical principalities arose, the feudal bond,
being personal, brought the military tenants into relation with the abbot, not
with the abbey, as their lord.
As a means of reform it came to be desirable that abbeys should be released from the control of
military bishops. In the long run this meant that they would become immediately
subordinate to the Pope, or, if he failed to supervise them, that they would be
left to their own devices. The remedy for the last evil was to be sought in the
concentration of authority, and three great experiments were to be made,
starting from Cluny, Citeaux, and Premontré, the last
being an effort to organise regular canons, while the other two were
reformations of Benedictine monachism. Cluny had been founded in 910 by
William, Duke ot Aquitaine, who granted all his
rights over it to the Church of Rome. Thus the house
had no patron, and by an extension this was also a privilege of all monasteries
which joined the Cluniac congregation. For under the rule of strong and saintly
abbots Cluny became not only a pattern, whose
peculiarities in life and worship were
widely followed in monasteries which maintained their independence, but also
the head of a multitude of dependencies. These were under the autocratic rule
of the abbot of Cluny, who appointed their abbots or priors, and sent visitors
to them at his discretion. Moreover, a monk could not become a full member of
the corporation unless he were admitted at Cluny, and by the abbot himself.
English and other distant Cluniacs rarely made the
journey, and so wore excluded from the privilege. The permanent success of this
reform depended on the standard maintained by Cluny and its abbots, and the
fierce attack of St Bernard shows that by 1125 there had come a certain
decline, which must have affected the dependent houses, the legal status of
which in England was that of alien cells. During the Hundred Years’ War with France they were compelled to purchase denization in order
to escape suppression. The Cistercians combined unity with equality; all their
houses were abbeys with full rights, whose heads wore summoned to the annual
chapter at Citeaux. But there was a further bond of mother and daughter houses,
those which had swarmed off in the days of original enthusiasm from an older
abbey remaining under its supervision. No patrons were recognised, and the
whole Order became directly under the Pope and exempt from episcopal
jurisdiction. The contemporary Order of Premontré followed the same lines, and in its turn was to be copied by the Dominicans.
These three Orders were international, and all were to have difficulty in
maintaining the central control over the more distant abbeys. The
Premonstratensians, especially, tended to division. It may be noted that the
purely English Gilbertine Order was also centrally
governed, the rule and the property throughout the Order being vested in the
Master of Sempringham.
But outside orders or congregations
which had been deliberately centralised lay the great mass both of monks and
canons, though certain efforts had been made to organise them in part. It
remained for Innocent III in the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215 to model them
after the Cistercian pattern, and for Benedict XII by bulls of 1336 and 1339 to
complete the task. They were to be grouped together by ecclesiastical
provinces—in England the Benedictines of Canterbury and York formed separate
bodies, the Augustinians of both formed one—and were to hold regular assemblies
and arrange for visitation by members of their Order. They had power of taxing
themselves for corporate purposes, But the plan was imposed from above and was
not heartily accepted. Obscure houses were often overlooked, important houses
resisted visitation, abbots refused to attend the general chapters, and taxes
remained unpaid.
It remains to notice monasteries which
were cathedral. The case of England is exceptional. Save Monreale in Sicily, where the Normans were under English influence, there was no
Benedictine chapter outside this country. But cathedrals of regular canons were
numerous in France and Spain, while to the east of Germany Premonstratensian
chapters at
Riga and elsewhere did much to extend
Christianity and civilisation. These last, though with some desire of a release
from Premontré, were effectually members of their
Order, but many of those which belonged to the later union of Austin
Canons instituted by Innocent III may have held but loosely to the association.
The Chapter of Carlisle, however, established by Henry I when he founded the.
see, was represented at the assemblies of the English Austin Canons. In
Scotland St Andrew’s, on the reconstruction of the see under Norman influence,
was made Austin. There were no other cathedrals of the Order in Great Britain.
It must be mentioned that St John Lateran, the true cathedral of the Popes,
became in the eleventh century the head of a congregation of Austin Canons,
which still subsists, though the Lateran has left it. Here again the earlier
associations, though weakened by the attempt of Innocent III to force all
Austin Canons into an effectual Order, succeeded in thwarting his purpose.
These congregations, two of which, the French Arroasians and Victorines, had English members, were unable in face of the Order created
in 1215 to maintain a vigorous existence of their own, though they checked its
vitality.
The twelfth century saw the general
assignment of tithe to permanent owners. We have seen that, when the doctrine
prevailed that tithe must be paid to persons in orders, among whom nuns ranked
for this purpose, the payers still had liberty to choose their beneficiaries,
and if they chose to make the benefaction permanent it rested with themselves
to do so. No episcopal sanction was as yet required.
Though in England this process did not go so far as in other countries, a
proportion of tithe passed thus to monasteries soon after the Norman Conquest,
for the invaders were little disposed to sacrifice the lands they had won.
Tithe they must pay, and they had the gratification of endowing some favourite
shrine, often in France, without increased expense to themselves. This went on
till the middle of the twelfth century. And meanwhile, as was natural, in most
places the lord had given his tithe to the parish of which he was patron. Hence
a new problem arose. The tithe was now annexed to the glebe, and equally
attached to the benefice; so much so that the idea spread that the incumbent
was of right the possessor, and held tithe by the same
tenure as glebe.
But the desire still prevailed to
benefit the monasteries, and where this annexation had taken place it could only be done by a grant of the church. The monastery should be patron
and incumbent, with power to receive the whole revenue in return for a performance
of the services. This performance was usually by a hired chaplain, without
security of tenure and often ill-paid; though the Austin and Premonstratensian
canons had, and used, the right of settling members of their houses as
“revocable” incumbents in churches which they held. While there, they enjoyed
the revenue, and in their later years often retired to their abbey. The
Benedictines and Cistercians of Germany followed the same practice, but it
never seems to have prevailed among them in England. Here also the reform by
which perpetual vicarages were instituted, was earned out more fully than
elsewhere. There are instances earlier than 1200, but the thirteenth century
was the period when, by the energy of such bishops as Grosseteste of Lincoln, vicarages
became the rule. In France the old abuse continued, and the poverty-stricken
parish clergy only gained security of tenure in the eighteenth century, to lose
it again by the concordat of 1802. Scotland, before the Reformation, seems to
have followed, the French example, the abbeys doing little, or even nothing,
for the parishes of which they held the endowments. In Italy the strength of
the communal movement was such that it involved the parish. The priest came to
be regarded as the servant of the community, and it might enter
into contract with him for his services, with provision for his
dismissal at its will. This was probably better for the parish clergy than the
French portio congrua, doled out by the appropriator.
The division of interests, as carried
out in England, between the monastic patron and the vicar, allotted the great
tithes, those on corn, to the former, and the small tithes, on wool, orchards,
and the like to the latter. Often there was also a division of the glebe;
sometimes the whole of this was taken, leaving but the house and the small
tithe to the vicar. But the variations are infinite from place to place, though
the maintenance of the chancel by the appropriator of the great tithe is
universal. Minor burdens, pensions or portions, were
often laid upon a benefice without altering its status. Nothing was more common
than for a bishop, as the price of his consent to the conversion of a rectory
into a vicarage, to impose a small annual pension for his own benefit upon it.
Still, the lot of the beneficed clergy was happier in England than in other
countries, for the inroads of the monasteries were fewer and the proportion of
benefices with an income above the level of the peasant’s was much larger; and
this in spite of the fact that there were other than
monastic encroachments on the rectories. Bishops would find a revenue for their
personal officers by instituting a vicarage in a benefice of their gift, and creating a sinecure rectory out of the residue.
And when Henry I founded the see of Carlisle he endowed it with valuable rectories in Derbyshire and Lincolnshire, which the
bishop could turn to account by ordaining vicarages; there was, however, the
justification that border revenues, which also were supplied, were precarious.
At the head of the whole system was
the Pope, confronted in his claim to universal authority by a rival claim to
unlimited rule. Both drew from Justinian, and each borrowed arguments from the other. As the Emperor, derived strength from the feudal theory of a
single head under God, so did the Pope; each made the same demand for military support to be
rendered as a duty, claimed the same power of taxation in accordance
with his need, exercised the same
prerogative of bestowing dominion, the strife the papacy was inevitably
secularised, and the turning-point
towards decay may be dated from the
reign of Innocent IV. The most prominent symptom, perhaps the principal cause,
of this decay was the canoil law as it developed from
the Decretum of Gratian to the books of the Decretals. The attempt to arrange a chaotic and often inconsistent mass of existing
practices into a coherent legislation opened the way to profitable abuses which
were too attractive to be resisted. But always there was a theory to explain
and justify the procedure, and to base further claims upon it. An example of
aggrandisement attempted through inference is that of Peter’s Pence in England.
Whatever was the origin of this payment to Rome, whether it began with Ine or Offa, at any rate Aethelwulf made
a donation of the annual sum of 500 marks, which became traditional. In
the laws of Alfred every Christian throughout England must pay the Romfeoh. Naturally in troubled times the
payment was made irregularly, though it was never forgotten at Rome. But its
voluntary character was forgotten, or ignored. It was
assumed on feudal principles that a regular payment was a confession of
inferiority, the acknowledgment for a favour conferred. When the Pope in 1059
made Robert Guiscard Duke of Apulia, he was granted a payment from every yoke
of oxen in those lands. This was not only a return for the gift of territory,
but a public admission of the lord’s rights over his tenant. So Gregory VII interpreted the Peter’s Pence which William the Conqueror was ready
to pay; but William denied the inference that he or his predecessors held
England by papal grant. To follow on with the history, the Pence were regularly
collected. If a legate were in England (and a legate always had a financial
side to his commission) he received them; at other times the Archbishop of
Canterbury or some bishop nominated by the Pope; Henry II sometimes bade his
sheriffs collect. But the sum of 300 marks was stationary, though wealth and population
might increase. It was vain for Popes to protest, or complain that more was levied than was remitted; Innocent III charged the
English bishops with collecting 1000 marks and sending 300. This sum, reduced
in practice to 299, perhaps on the analogy of forty
stripes save one, was distributed between the dioceses in a traditional
proportion, from Lincoln which paid £42 to Ely which paid £5. In
the later Middle Ages, when a resident papal collector received the Pence, the
cost of collecting from house to house, if it was ever earned out, must have
been too expensive, and probably the payment was made by bishops out of their
own revenues. The antiquity of the charge appears from the exemption of Durham,
Carlisle, and the Welsh dioceses from the impost. This was laid, after the
English pattern, by the English Cardinal Nicholas, afterwards Hadrian IV, upon
Sweden and Norway when he organised those Churches. It was unknown in the rest
of Western Europe.
We have seen that, on the evidence of
the Pence, superiority over England had been claimed. Had it been admitted, it
would have enabled the Pope to call on the king for aid against his enemies;
and doubtless this,
and other claims of the same kind,
were designed to enlist worldly aid against the Emperors. In some cases the condition was clear, as when Urban II confirmed
Apulia to Duke Roger and Sicily to Count Roger, and Hadrian IV consolidated
these grants in 1156 in favour of King William I. Feudal service was recognised
as due. So in Spain, when the Count of Barcelona
recovered Tarragona from the Moors, he offered his conquest and also his
inheritance to the Pope, and received both back as fiefs; though it is very
doubtful whether for Barcelona he was not bound to do service to the King of
France. When Spanish princes wished to secure their position, it was to the
Popes that they surrendered their crowns; other instances can be adduced from
Poland, Hungary, and Denmark. Always the grant was made on condition of an annual
tribute (census), small in itself, but significant of the claim upon loyalty of which the proffer and acceptance of
the tribute were tokens. The bargain made between John of England and Innocent
III was more substantial. On the surrender of his kingdom of England and
lordship of Ireland to the Pope, he received them back on feudal terms, binding himself and his successors to pay annually
700 marks for the one and 300 for the other, and taking as full an oath of
fealty as any tenant would take to him. It is needless to say
that payment was irregularly made, certainly by Edward I, and that in
1366 Parliament repudiated the transaction. But at first it was a solid and
valuable gain, and Pandulf, the legate who carried the transaction through,
seized the opportunity of a minor profit of the same kind. Reginald, King of
Man, also surrendered and received back his kingdom, over which he declared
that there was no earthly superior; an assertion which the Kings of Norway and
Scotland, and perhaps the King of England, would have denied. Reginald may have
thought that if his assertion were registered at Rome and remained, as it might
well do, uncontradicted, it would gain validity from its presence in so
respectable a record; and the Pope might gain a little dignity, and possibly
some advantage, from a speculative transaction, the financial gain of which was
twelve marks a year. So eager was the papal search for such acquisitions that
the legislators of Castile and Jerusalem thought it necessary in their codes to
assert that the Pope had no temporal authority in those kingdoms. The last
victory of Boniface VIII, won in the year of his death, was the surrender of
Albert of Austria, who admitted those full papal claims to superiority against
which his predecessors in the Empire had been striving for two centuries.
Papal superiority was not limited to
secular sovereignties. The Popes became supreme lords of religious houses and
their lands, which became detached portions of their territory. When the abbey
of Vezelai in Burgundy was founded in the time of
Charles the Bald, the founder, with the Emperor’s consent, gave full possession
to the Pope. In the weaker days of Charles the Simple
the founder of Cluny gives, and the Pope accepts, the abbey, free from all
royal or other power. The grant stood, though
the consent of Charles had not been
asked. In such a case the Pope did not expect to draw more than a moderate census from the monastery, but he was rewarded by its loyalty for his protection; a protection which was usually extended to its
spiritual condition, for he would relieve it from episcopal control. Where, as
in England, full sovereignty could not be secured, an exempt abbey, such as St
Edmunds, would be free from the bishop, having its own archdeacon; it would
also be free not from the king but from the king’s officials. Its own officers
would execute the writs which elsewhere were sent to the sheriff,
and would receive the profits of the king’s jurisdiction exercised upon
its exempt lands. As to its relation to the local bishop, this might be null as
in the rare case of an abbatia-nullius, like Monte Cassino, where the abbot kept a
bishop under his orders to perform any episcopal office; more often he might
call in any bishop he would; in other cases he was
obliged to request the diocesan to consecrate churches, confirm, and give the
annual chrism. In England the fullest exemption released an abbey from
visitation, not only from the archbishop as such, but also from him in his
capacity of legate. St Augustine’s at Canterbury and others must open their
doors to a legate a latere and to none other.
The question might even be raised whether they need admit him if their
name were not explicitly mentioned in his commission. Glorious as this
exception was, it had one onerous consequence. None but a Pope could admit the
abbot of such a house to his office, and the costs of his confirmation were
enormous.
All dioceses which lay outside
recognised provinces, such as those of Scotland and the isolated diocese of
Man, enjoyed the privileges and bore the burdens of immediate subjection to the
Pope. He also had power where Christendom was expanding, as in Spain, of
shaping new provinces at his will, and retaining such portions as he would
under himself. At the other end of Christendom he
exercised a special authority. The bishops of the mission which grew into the
province of Riga were exempted from the authority of Bremen by Innocent III, and were to hold the temporalities of their
sees from the Pope. There was even an attempt to impose the rule of a legate
upon the Knights of the Teutonic Older and of the Sword, and so to give the
Popes a sovereignty that should threaten Germany. But little came of all this.
There were also cases of isolated dioceses which enjoyed exemption, more or less complete, from the authority of metropolitans, with the symbol of the pallium, though
they were not archbishoprics. The most conspicuous of these were Pavia in Italy
and the royal foundation of Bamberg in Germany. There was none in England.
Political considerations prompted these exemptions, but there was also the
motive that a census was the recompense, as in the case of a privileged
abbey. And to the abbeys which were granted exemption were soon added a number which the Pope could not profess to regard as exempt from
territorial or ecclesiastical superiority, but to which he granted his special
protection, always in return for a census. This was also paid by many
ambitious houses which asked and received the honour of the mitre for their
heads. It was granted with various restrictions in place and time of wearing;
and in England mitred abbots must not be confused with the smaller class of
abbots summoned to Parliament.
In 1192 the Papal Chamberlain (i.e. Treasurer) Cencio, the
future Pope Honorius III, compiled the Liber Censuum, a business-like account of all these
payments that were due up to that date; a list more important as a record of
claims the Pope could make upon loyalty than as a statement of the income he enjoyed.
It was a catalogue of tributes, not of the ordinary sources of revenue, feudal
or ecclesiastical. The latter was of ever increasing importance, since fees for the confirmation of bishops and abbots, varying
according to the value of the benefice, were being systematically collected,
and the profits of litigation, always a chief source of medieval revenue, were
steadily increasing. At the same time Honorius III himself was the first to use
ecclesiastical revenues throughout Europe as a means of relieving himself of
the cost of administration. His officials held benefices everywhere,
and needed no salary from their master. By an
improvement on this, Innocent IV was to use such benefices for the endowment of
his family and friends, and so to set a standard from which Rome was rarely to
fall during the following centuries.
This claim to benefices abroad might
be justified on two grounds. If the patron were a bishop or an abbey whose head
had been admitted by the Pope, he was the Pope's man, and bound to recognise
the fact by submitting to a demand of his lord, just as an English bishop,
after taking the oath of canonical obedience to the archbishop, showed that he
was his man by giving up to him as his “option” the first benefice—not
necessarily the first that fell vacant—that the archbishop should choose out of
the bishop’s patronage. But Popes were not content with one option; bishops
like Grosseteste were broken-hearted at the unworthy or illiterate or youthful presentees whom they might not reject, and who were forced
upon them in spite, not only of remonstrances, but of definite promises, such
as that one Italian should not immediately follow another in the same post. The
Pope was justified, not only feudally but canonically, for canon law was
regarded as of papal origin, and an equal authority might override it. It was
not contrary to the laws of God or of nature that a child should hold a
benefice, and therefore the Pope could admit him. But
lay patrons were less submissive. Matthew Paris tells with pride how Robert Thweng, a northern knight, when a foreigner was intruded
into his Yorkshire rectory of Upleatham, raised a
riot, burned the barns of alien ecclesiastics, rifled their,
goods and gave them to the poor. Henry III refused to convict him, and sent him to Rome with letters of commendation from himself and his brother Richard of Cornwall, where Gregory IX admitted the
justice of his claim to the patronage, deprived the intruder, and promised in
future to respect lay rights.
But the Crusades first gave the Popes
occasion to tax Christendom at large. At first kings taxed their realms for
this purpose, and with the consent of the Pope taxed their clergy. Direct papal
taxation begins with 1199, when Innocent III issued his mandate to all bishops
to levy a fortieth of their year’s income from all the beneficed of their
diocese. The exempt Orders were also assessed. For the carrying out of this
taxation it was necessary that benefices should be valued. For England the
first valuation of which some fragment remains was made in 1217. It was
followed by another in 1229, of which also not many details are known. Then
came the Norwich valuation of 1254, of which large portions survive, and
finally in 1291 that of Pope Nicholas III, which remains complete, and was the
standard by which the clergy were assessed on their official revenues for both
papal and royal taxation till the time of Henry VIII. The tax consisted of firstfruits and tenths, the former being the assumed annual
value, which was due on entry into the benefice, the other being the annual
payment of one tenth of the same sum. In each of these successive valuations
the income had been assessed at a higher level; yet there is no reason to doubt
that, decided as it was by the oath of neighbours, it was equitable. Small
benefices were exempt, so that in the taxation of Pope Nicholas they are
unfortunately not recorded, unless the holder were a pluralist, in which case
all the items of his revenue are entered. In the bitter strife between Frederick
II and successive Popes, he was denounced as worse than a Muslim, and taxation
was levied against him on the plea that a crusade was being waged. This was
first done by Gregory IX in 1225. The frequency with which the clergy had been
taxed for crusading purposes rendered them, and the Popes, so familiar with
such imposts, that in the fourteenth century firstfruits and tenths became regular and undisputed sources of papal revenue throughout
the West.
For the purpose of gathering in the manifold sums drawn from each country, there had come
to be resident papal collectors before 1300. These not only received money, but had power to grant dispensations of many kinds in
return for payments. In England, where the Popes were carefully watched, they
were obliged on entering upon their office to take oath of fealty to the king.
Yet of all countries England was the most carefully observant of ecclesiastical
rules. For instance, by canon law tithe could not be redeemed nor alienated
from Church uses. Only in England was this obeyed. On the Continent men were
less scrupulous. In Germany land was often given in redemption of tithe, and in
France it was often in the market and in lay hands. St Louis was a tithe-owner.
But everywhere, when the high ideals of the Middle Age became tarnished and
distorted by the financial interests which came to dominate the
Papacy and, through it, the Church, there was the same spirit of revolt, not to
be satisfied till the old system had been purged in the lands of the CounterReformation as well as in those which rejected the
authority of Rome.
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