THE SCHISMS IN THE PAPACY AND EMPIRE, 1378-1414
Decline of German Monarchy—Dangers to Germany—Policy of Charles
IV.—Return of the Papacy to Rome and election of Urban
VI.—Election of Clement VII. and beginning of the Schism—The
German towns and their hostility to the nobles—Weakness of
Wenzel—The town-war—Peace of Eger—The Succession to Hungary and
Poland—The Jagellon House is established in Poland, and
Sigismund in Hungary—Opposition to Wenzel in Germany—Troubles in
Bohemia—France and the Schism—Meeting of Wenzel and Charles
VI.—A Schism is created in the Empire—The idea of a General
Council—Negotiations between the rival Popes—Europe and the
Schism—The Council of Pisa—The Triple Schism—Alexander V. and
his successor John XXIII.—Death of Rupert of the Pale—Election
of Sigismund—Jobst—Death of Jobst—Second election of
Sigismund—Sigismund and Pope John XXIII.—Summons of the Council
of Constance.
With the year 1378 begins a period of anarchy and confusion
characteristic of the decay of an old organisation, and the inevitable
precursor of a new system. In that year died Gregory XI. and Charles
IV., the representatives of secular and ecclesiastical authority as
conceived in the Middle Ages. Of the two claimants to universal rule,
the Papacy and the Empire, the former was immeasurably the stronger. It
possessed a large revenue and an admirable administrative system. The
Empire had neither. Its claims to rule over Christendom were no longer
acknowledged. Even in Italy its suzerainty was recognised as a legal
form, but in actual politics little regard was paid to it. And the
German monarchy had fallen with the grandiose and unreal dignity to
which it was attached. The imperial domains had been seized or
squandered. The central administration and jurisdiction were hardly
existent. Such authority as the king [Sidenote: Decline of German
monarchy.] possessed rested upon the territorial powers which he held
independently of his kingship. His nominal vassals—ecclesiastics, lay
princes, knights and cities—enjoyed practical independence. If they
quarrelled with each other, they fought the quarrel out as if they had
been independent states. If the Emperor intervened, it was as a partisan
rather than as an arbiter. There was no parliamentary organisation, as
in England, where the interests of the various estates could find
effective expression. There was no overwhelming national sentiment, such
as was created by the Hundred Years’ War in France, to enable the
monarchy to gain ascendency and to crush rival pretensions.
The dangers of this growing disunion were sufficiently obvious in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It seemed [Sidenote: Dangers to
Germany.] almost inevitable that Germany would lose all semblance of a
state, and that as it fell to pieces foreign powers would seize upon the
fragments. In the south-east the Turks were gradually establishing
themselves on the ruins of the Byzantine Empire, and threatened to
advance up the valley of the Danube into the heart of southern Germany.
Further north a powerful Slav kingdom was erected in Poland under the
House of Jagellon, whose mission seemed to be to annihilate the progress
which German influences had effected by means of the Teutonic knights.
The Slav kingdom of Bohemia, which under the House of Luxemburg had
become almost the capital of Germany, revolted against the rule and the
religion of its kings, and the Hussite victories revealed more clearly
than any other single event the rottenness and impotence of the existing
system in Germany. In the north, the Union of Kalmar brought the three
Scandinavian states under a single ruler, and threatened to deprive the
German Hansa of the ascendency in northern waters which Lübeck and its
associates had gained by their victory over Waldemar III. of Denmark. In
the south, the Swiss Confederation was tending to free itself from even
nominal dependence on the Empire, and there were other leagues in Swabia
and on the Rhine which were not unlikely to follow its example. In the
west, German weakness had already allowed France to swallow a great part
of the old kingdom of Arles, and though France was for a time crippled
by the war with England and by internal dissensions, a new and more
pressing danger was created by the rapid growth of the Valois dukes of
Burgundy, who absorbed one imperial fief after another, and at one time
almost succeeded in building up a middle kingdom along the Rhine, which
would have excluded Germany from all real influence on the development
of western Europe.
Charles IV., the greatest ruler of the fourteenth century, had clearly
grasped both the dangers of the situation and [Sidenote: Policy of
Charles IV.] the only remedies which could be applied. Either Germany
must be organised as a federation which should combine some measure of
local independence with joint action for common interests, or a single
family must collect such an aggregate of territories in its hands as
might become the nucleus of a new territorial monarchy. Charles had kept
both expedients before him. He had laid the foundations of a federal
organisation by conferring corporate powers and privileges upon the
electors. At the same time he had made the Luxemburg family the
strongest in Germany, and had placed it in a position to do for Germany
what the Capets had done for France. It is a common error to maintain
that Charles IV.’s policy was a complete failure; that what he meant to
be a temporary expedient proved permanent, while his ultimate aims were
never achieved. It is true that a territorial monarchy was not
established, and that such unity as Germany has since possessed has been
federal rather than monarchical. But what really held Germany together
from the fifteenth to the eighteenth century was not the federal system,
but the territorial power of the house of Hapsburg. And that territorial
power was, in the main, founded by Charles _IV._ It is as the heirs of
the Luxemburg family that the Hapsburgs assumed their unique position in
Germany. Charles IV. achieved more lasting results than he has been
credited with, but the fruits of his policy were gathered by others than
his own descendants.
One very obvious source of weakness to Charles IV. had been his failure
to control the ecclesiastical system, owing to the residence of the
Popes at Avignon. [Sidenote: Return of the Papacy to Rome.] Charles
himself had gained the German monarchy to some extent as the papal
nominee; but he had found it necessary to resist papal intervention in
Germany as long as that intervention was dictated by a foreign power. It
was obviously Charles’s duty and interest to restore the Papacy to Rome,
where alone it could exercise impartial authority. He had induced Urban
V. to transfer his residence to Rome, but his hopes had been
disappointed by the Pope’s speedy return to the banks of the Rhône. Once
again his influence had been successful, and in 1377 Gregory XI. had
left Avignon for the Eternal City. But both Pope and cardinals found
Rome too turbulent to be an agreeable abode, and they were preparing for
another flitting when the death of Gregory compelled the conclave to
meet for a new election within the Vatican. The mob surrounded the
palace and demanded the choice of a Roman Pope. The majority of the
cardinals were Frenchmen, but they were divided among themselves, and
they were afraid of the violence of the citizens. As a compromise, they
chose a Neapolitan, the archbishop of Bari, [Sidenote: Election of Urban
VI., 1378.] who took the name of Urban VI. So little confidence had the
cardinals that their decision would please the people, that they escaped
in disguise and left the news of the election to become known gradually.
This fact is sufficient to prove that the election was not altogether
compulsory, and as soon as the mob had shown itself acquiescent, the
cardinals were unanimous in acknowledging Urban.
But this unanimity was very short-lived. Urban VI. had never been a
cardinal, and was personally unknown to most of his electors. He proved
to be a man of violent temper and rough manners, eager to exercise his
unexpected authority, and reckless of opposition or advice. The
cardinals, who had hoped for a pliant and grateful tool, found
themselves confronted with a master who announced that he would begin
the reform of the Church with its chief dignitaries. He silenced
remonstrances by the rudest sarcasms, and declared that he would never
return to Avignon. Disappointed and indignant, many of the cardinals
quitted Rome for Anagni. Encouraged by the support of France and Naples,
they declared that Urban’s election was invalid on account of the
intimidation of the mob, and on September 20, 1378, proceeded to elect
Robert of Geneva, a militant ecclesiastic who had succeeded Cardinal
Albornoz as commander [Sidenote: Election of Clement VII.] of the papal
troops in Italy. The Antipope assumed the name of Clement VII., and his
election commenced a schism in the Church which lasted for forty years.
Charles IV. had watched these events in Italy with the greatest chagrin.
He gave unhesitating support to Urban VI., and urged the European
princes to resist the revival of French dictation in the Church. But his
death on November 29 removed the one statesman who might possibly have
checked the progress of the schism. His son and successor, Wenzel,
pursued his father’s policy, but he was too young, and, as it proved,
too incapable, to exercise the same influence. He threatened Joanna I.
of Naples with the imperial ban if she did not give up the cause of
Clement; and this threat was the more formidable because the Neapolitans
themselves favoured their fellow-countryman Urban. But the only result
was to aggravate the schism. Finding that residence on Neapolitan soil
was no longer safe, Clement VII. and his [Sidenote: The schism in the
Church, 1378-1417.] cardinals left Italy for Avignon. There Clement was
secure of French support, and before long he was also recognised by the
Spanish kingdoms, Castile, Aragon, and Navarre. Germany, England, and
most of the northern kingdoms gave their allegiance to Urban VI., and
after his death to his successors, Boniface IX. (1389-1404), Innocent
VII. (1404-5), and Gregory XII., elected in 1405. Clement VII. lived
till 1394, when he was succeeded by a Spaniard, Peter de Luna, who took
the name of Benedict XIII.
The schism in the Church was by no means the only difficulty which
Wenzel had to face. In Germany, as in [Sidenote: The German towns.]
other countries, the feudal system, in which social and political
relations depended upon the tenure of land, had been modified by the
growth of towns, whose interests lay in industry rather than in
agriculture, while their desire to maintain peace conflicted with the
military habits and traditions of the noble landholders. In England and
in France the monarchy had advanced its own interests by taking the
rising towns under its patronage and by aiding the growth of municipal
self-government. At one time, under Lewis the Bavarian, a similar policy
had seemed possible in Germany. At the diet of Frankfort in 1344 the
speaker of the town deputies had used the memorable words: _civitates
non possunt stare nisi cum imperio: imperii lesio earum est destructio_.
But Charles IV., guided by his experiences in Italy, had distrusted the
towns: he had suspected them of aiming at independence rather than the
strengthening of the monarchy: and in the Golden Bull he had
deliberately opposed the development of the towns while he had conceded
great powers to the electors. But his policy in this respect had not
been altogether successful even during his own lifetime. The Hanse towns
in the north had risen to the zenith of their power in 1370, and Charles
had found it politic to conciliate them by a personal visit to Lübeck.
In the south the Swabian League had been formed under the leadership of
Ulm, had defeated the warlike Count of Würtemburg, and had compelled the
old emperor to allow them the right of union, of which they had been
deprived by the Golden Bull.
The death of Charles IV. and the accession of the feeble and
self-indulgent Wenzel enabled the towns to take bolder measures. In 1381
an alliance was concluded at [Sidenote: Hostility of towns and nobles.]
Speier between the Swabian League and the towns on the Rhine; and its
object was not merely mutual defence, but ‘to scourge and punish their
mutual enemies.’ The league thus formed contained seventy-two towns, and
could supply a military force of ten thousand men-at-arms. And this
force was by no means their only or their most effective weapon. By
granting a modified form of citizenship (_Pfahlbürgerthum_), they
annexed whole villages in their neighbourhood, thus depriving the lords
at once of subjects, revenue, and territory. If the landholder tried to
recover his loss, he only devastated his own property, while the
offending citizens were safe within walls that until the general use of
gunpowder were almost impregnable. It was no wonder that the princes
resented the growth of a power which seemed likely to rival their own.
But the class which was most immediately threatened by the towns was
that of the knights or lesser tenants-in-chief. Their chief occupations
were warfare and pillage, and the towns were resolute in putting a stop
to practices which ruined their trade. Single-handed the knights were
powerless against the civic forces, and they were driven to form
leagues, such as the famous League of the Lion, for their own defence.
There was little love lost between the knights and the princes, but
class prejudices and associations tended to draw them together against a
foe whom they both detested and contemned. The materials were prepared
for a great war of classes in Germany.
Wenzel had neither the ability nor the experience to enable him to deal
successfully with such a problem, and his attention was also occupied by
family affairs in the east and by the quarrel in the Church. His only
expedient was to form associations for the maintenance of the peace in
which both princes and cities should be included. By this means he
succeeded in postponing but not in preventing a war. The quarrel of
Leopold of Hapsburg with the Swiss precipitated matters. The Swiss
confederation differed from the Swabian and Rhenish leagues in that it
included village communities of peasants as well as towns. When in 1385
an alliance with the Swabian League was proposed, the original forest
cantons refused to take any part in the matter, and only the towns,
Bern, Zürich, Zug and Luzern were parties to the compact. The battle of
Sempach was won mainly by the peasants, and the Swabian towns sent no
assistance. But the fall of Leopold of Hapsburg, the champion of
princely interests, was hailed as a triumph by the towns, and had the
natural effect of increasing their pride and pretensions. In 1387 the
war which had been on the verge of outbreak since 1379 at last began.
There was little that was notable in the actual hostilities, except
their extent. The [Sidenote: The town war, 1387-9.] war was merely a
simultaneous explosion of the numerous feuds which had often been waged
before between a noble and a too powerful town. As long as the citizens
stood on the defensive, they were successful, and the armies of the
princes and knights were repulsed from their walls. Emboldened by these
successes, they determined to leave their walls and to invade the
territories of their old enemy, Eberhard of Würtemburg. But the German
towns had no such soldiers as the peasants of the Alps, and no such
geographical advantages as the Swiss had. In the open field their forces
were cut to pieces by the feudal cavalry. On August 24, 1388, the united
troops of the Swabian League suffered a severe defeat at Döffingen. The
weakness of their position was now apparent. They could resist
aggression, but they could not themselves take the offensive. The
Rhenish towns were defeated with great loss at Worms, and Nürnberg, the
latest and the most important recruit of the Swabian League, was reduced
to submission by the Burggraf.
But the triumph of the nobles was incomplete. Though they had been
victorious in the field, they were as unable as before to carry on siege
operations. Their defensive strength enabled the towns to negotiate the
peace of Eger (1389) [Sidenote: Peace of Eger, 1389.] on fairly equal
terms. By this treaty all leagues and unions were to be abrogated on
both sides. All future disputes between the towns and the nobles were to
be settled by arbitration. For this purpose four commissioners were
appointed in Swabia, Franconia, Bavaria, and the Rhenish provinces. Each
commission was to consist of four nobles, four citizens, and a president
to be appointed by the Emperor. It is obvious that the towns, though
defeated, had not been wholly unsuccessful, and had secured a position
of equality with their opponents. But the real importance of the war is
the discredit which it cast upon the monarchy. Wenzel had been unable
either to prevent the war or to influence its course. And the
organisation created for the maintenance of the peace was a local and
representative organisation, in which the central authority had little
more than a nominal share.
While Germany was convulsed with the town war, the House of Luxemburg
had made an important territorial acquisition in the east. Lewis the
Great, king of Hungary and Poland, the head of the original House of
Anjou in Naples, had died in 1380. He left a widow, Elizabeth, and two
daughters, Maria and Hedwig. In spite [Sidenote: Succession in Hungary
and Poland.] of the natural prejudices against female rule, he had
induced his subjects to recognise his daughters’ claim to the
succession. If they were passed over, the nearest male heir was Charles
of Durazzo,[10] who was engaged in a struggle for the crown of Naples
with Louis of Anjou, brother of Charles V. of France. Maria, the elder
of the two daughters, was betrothed to Sigismund, the second son of
Charles IV. She was accepted by the Hungarians, and Sigismund was eager
that his future wife should also gain the crown of Poland. But the
Poles, influenced by the growing Slav sentiment, were unwilling to
continue the connection with Hungary or to accept a German ruler. They
insisted upon electing the younger sister Hedwig, and upon choosing a
husband for her. Hedwig was sent to Poland in 1385, and in the next year
was married to Jagello, prince of Lithuania, who was baptized as a
Christian under the name of Ladislas. The union of Poland and Lithuania
under the Jagellon house founded a powerful Slav state to the north-east
of Germany, and led to the downfall of the Teutonic Knights, who could
no longer claim to conduct a crusade when their foes had accepted
Christianity (see p. 459).
Meanwhile Sigismund, disappointed in Poland, came near to losing Hungary
as well. Elizabeth, the late king’s widow, [Sidenote: Sigismund’s
accession in Hungary, 1387.] unwilling to surrender authority to an
ambitious son-in-law, tried to break off Maria’s engagement, and to
bring about a marriage with a French prince. But her schemes were
suddenly checkmated by a revolt of the Hungarian nobles, who offered the
crown to Charles of Durazzo, now established on the throne of Naples.
Charles accepted the offer, and landed in Dalmatia in 1385. This
unexpected danger forced Elizabeth to appeal for assistance to
Sigismund, whose long-delayed marriage was hastily solemnised in October
1385. The bridegroom hurried off to raise troops for the defence of his
wife’s crown, and among his expedients for gaining money he pawned a
great part of Brandenburg to his cousin Jobst of Moravia. Meanwhile
events in Hungary moved with kaleidoscopic rapidity. Charles of Naples,
after having apparently secured his kingdom, was assassinated by the
emissaries of Elizabeth in February 1386. Elizabeth recovered authority
in her daughter’s name, and at once quarrelled with her son-in-law,
whose assistance seemed to be no longer needed. But the nobles of
Croatia determined to avenge the death of Charles. They seized Elizabeth
and Maria, and carried them off to the fortress of Novigrad. When the
fortress was besieged, the former was put to death, and Maria was
threatened with the same fate. In the general anarchy, the Hungarian
nobles determined to offer the crown to Sigismund, who was crowned in
1387, and soon afterwards succeeded in effecting his wife’s release. His
accession added a new province to the Luxemburg possessions, and at the
same time founded the dynastic connection between Hungary and Bohemia
which still exists.
The acquisition of Hungary did nothing to strengthen the position of the
House of Luxemburg in Germany, while it increased the jealousy with
which its overgrown territories were regarded. The western princes,
representing the original German duchies of Bavaria, Franconia, and
Swabia, resented the transference of power to a dynasty whose
possessions lay mostly in the east, and some of them outside Germany
altogether. The House of Wittelsbach, from whose hands Charles IV. had
snatched the imperial dignity, were the foremost in raising this outcry
of the west against the east. And the malcontents were not [Sidenote:
Opposition to Wenzel in Germany.] without more serious grounds of
complaint. Wenzel had done nothing to terminate the ecclesiastical
schism. His feeble and vacillating conduct during the town war had
disgusted the princes; and after the peace of Eger he had practically
withdrawn from German politics, and had left the kingdom in a state of
anarchy. Even in the east he incurred difficulties and humiliations
which brought discredit upon his person and his office.
Charles IV. had had two sources of strength which his successor entirely
lacked. He could rely upon the enthusiastic loyalty of the Bohemians,
and he was the undisputed head of the Luxemburg family. Neither of his
brothers had ever ventured to oppose his will. But under Wenzel Bohemia
enjoyed neither the prestige nor [Sidenote: Troubles in Bohemia.] the
good government which had endeared Charles to his subjects, while there
was a growing feeling that it was degrading to a Slav people to be ruled
by a German prince and by German methods. The sentiment of race which
had led Poland to unite with Lithuania under Jagello was beginning to be
powerful in Bohemia, in spite of its long and intimate association with
Germany. Wenzel himself was not personally unpopular. The very
coarseness of his character and manners, which degenerated in time into
brutish gluttony and drunkenness, seems to have evoked a rude sympathy,
at any rate among the lower classes. But his reckless passion led him
into gross political blunders, his unconcealed contempt alienated the
clergy, while his patronage of unworthy favourites exasperated the
nobles. A series of disorderly revolts began in 1387, and followed each
other in rapid succession. And Wenzel’s kinsmen, instead of assisting
the head of their house, rather added to his embarrassments. The evil
genius of the family was his cousin, Jobst of Moravia, a man who
anticipated the Italians of the next century in his selfish cunning and
his complete disregard of moral rules. Jobst had already gained
Brandenburg by trading on the pecuniary difficulties of Sigismund, and
he hoped by discrediting Wenzel to obtain for himself the Bohemian and
the imperial crowns. In 1394 he was at the head of a baronial revolt, in
which Wenzel was seized and imprisoned by the rebels. The most loyal
member of the family, John of Görlitz, who succeeded in releasing his
brother, was treated by Wenzel with gross ingratitude, and died in 1396,
not without grave suspicions of poison. Sigismund, though absorbed in
the pursuit of his own ends, was less cynically selfish than Jobst, and
showed some regard for the dignity and interests of his house. But he
was prevented from giving Wenzel any real assistance or guidance by the
necessity of defending his own kingdom of Hungary against the Turks. In
1396 he led a large crusading army to be cut to pieces by the forces of
Bajazet I. on the field of Nicopolis. But for the advance of the Tartars
under Timour, eastern Europe would have been at the mercy of the
victorious sultan.
The scandals in Bohemia and the quarrels among the Luxemburg princes
seem to have convinced the western princes that Wenzel was as little to
be feared as respected. He had given them a new grievance in 1395 by
granting the title of Duke of Milan and thus raising to princely rank
the aggressive Ghibelline leader in northern Italy, Gian Galeazzo
Visconti. And three years later he gave them a pretext for throwing off
their allegiance by his action with regard to the [Sidenote: France and
the schism.] schism in the Church. From the first the University of
Paris, then by far the most influential university in Europe, had set
itself against a schism which the French government had done much to
bring about. At first the king had silenced the university, but
gradually he had come to share its views. France found it extremely
expensive to support a schismatic Pope who had little but French
contributions to look to for the maintenance of himself and his court.
Popular sympathy was cooled when a Spaniard, Peter de Luna, was chosen
to succeed the French Pope Clement VII. Under the guidance of the
university leaders, Pierre d’Ailly and Jean Gerson, Charles VI. and his
ministers determined to end the schism by ‘the way of neutrality,’
_i.e._ by withdrawing allegiance from the two rival Popes, and thus
forcing them to abdicate, when a new election could restore unity to
Christendom. To give effect to this scheme, it was necessary to secure
simultaneous action on the part of the supporters of the Roman Pope
Boniface IX., and of these the most exalted was the King of the Romans.
Wenzel seems to have inherited some of the traditional attachment to
France of the Luxemburg [Sidenote: Meeting of Wenzel and Charles VI.]
dynasty, and he had quarrelled with Boniface about the appointment of an
Archbishop of Mainz. The two kings, the one a confirmed drunkard and the
other subject to fits of insanity, met at Rheims in 1398 to discuss the
most pressing problem of the age. Their personal intercourse cannot have
been very edifying. On one occasion Wenzel was invited to a banquet with
the French king, and when the Dukes of Burgundy and Berri came to escort
the guest, they found that he had already dined, and was lying under the
table in a drunken sleep. But the interview resulted in a more or less
formal agreement that France should extort the resignation of Benedict,
while Wenzel was to do the same by Boniface.
The Elector Palatine had already warned Wenzel that if he withdrew his
allegiance from the Pope who had confirmed his title, his subjects would
no longer be bound [Sidenote: Schism in the Empire, 1400.] to him. The
interview at Rheims had the effect of hurrying the execution of a plan
which had been for some time in contemplation. Boniface IX., though
careful to avoid committing himself to the conspiring princes, was not
unwilling to checkmate Wenzel by encouraging his opponents in Germany.
Of the seven electors, two, representing Bohemia and Brandenburg,
belonged to the Luxemburg house, while the Duke of Saxony held aloof.
The other four, whose territories bordered on the Rhine, met in 1400 at
Lahnstein, decreed the deposition of Wenzel, and elected one of their
own number, the Count Palatine, Rupert III. But the Rhenish electors,
like the recalcitrant cardinals in 1378, had no power to enforce their
decree of deposition, and the only result of their action was to create
a schism in the Empire side by side with the schism in the Church.
Rupert was a far wiser ruler and a far better man than his rival, and if
to his other virtues he had added the slightest military capacity, he
might have gained a complete triumph. Wenzel continued to quarrel with
[Sidenote: The rival Kings of the Romans.] his brother and his cousins,
and during a revolt in Hungary Sigismund was for five months a prisoner
in the hands of his barons. If Ladislas of Naples had not been occupied
in his contest with Louis II. of Anjou, he might have enforced the
claims of the House of Durazzo to the Hungarian crown, as his father had
done in 1385. But the difficulties of the Luxemburg princes were not
enough to enable Rupert to profit by them. He invaded Bohemia, and
actually reached Prague, where Jobst and the malcontent nobles offered
him their support. But at the first slight reverse he withdrew, and his
opportunity was lost when Sigismund escaped from captivity and came to
govern Bohemia for his incompetent brother. Then Rupert tried to obtain
an indirect triumph by crushing Wenzel’s _protégé_, Gian Galeazzo
Visconti. He hoped thus to restore German influence in Italy, which the
two last Luxemburg rulers had allowed to decay, and also to receive the
imperial crown from the gratitude of Boniface IX. Florence and all the
opponents of the Milanese despot promised to aid him with men and money.
But his Italian expedition was even more unsuccessful than his invasion
of Bohemia. His army was utterly routed by the mercenary forces of Gian
Galeazzo under the walls of Brescia (October 21, 1401), and he returned
to Germany the laughing-stock of Europe. His failure encouraged Wenzel
to plan a journey to Italy to obtain his long-delayed coronation, and
Sigismund undertook to escort him. Boniface IX., who was now committed
to the cause of Rupert, sought to foil the scheme by urging Ladislas of
Naples to an invasion of Hungary, which proved unsuccessful. But the
project was perforce abandoned on the news of the death of Gian Galeazzo
(September 3, 1402). From this time the rival Kings of the Romans
abstained from direct attacks on each other, and contented themselves
with their respective obedience, the one in the west and the other in
the east. Germany was so accustomed to dispense with any active exercise
of the royal authority that the schism created little excitement and
less inconvenience.
The schism in the Church was far more important to Europe, though the
chief actors were hardly more imposing than the rival emperors. The
position of the Papacy was necessarily shaken by the contentions of two
old men, each claiming to exercise divine authority, and each cursing
the other with human petulance. The religious were shocked by such a
spectacle: the irreligious laughed and mocked. A contemporary remarks
that for a long time Christians had had an earthly god who forgave their
sins, but now they have two such gods, and if one will not forgive their
sins, they go to the other. The prolonged scandal forced men to change
their conception of papal power, and to contend that such power does not
exist for its own ends, but for the sake of the whole Church. If
therefore that power is grossly abused, it is the right and even the
duty of the Church to interfere on behalf of its suffering [Sidenote:
The idea of a General Council.] members. Hence arose the conciliar idea,
which dominates all other ecclesiastical conceptions in the first half
of the fifteenth century. The Church, as represented by a General
Council, is superior to the head, as the whole body is superior to any
member. This idea found its main support in the Universities, especially
in Paris, Oxford, and Prague. The schism in the Empire and the
prominence of the University of Paris enabled France to take the
foremost place in urging the summons of a Council to put an end to
ecclesiastical anarchy. France had already adopted a policy of
neutrality in 1398, and had gone so far as to besiege Avignon and to
make Benedict XIII. a prisoner. But a reaction had set in when no other
power followed the example of France, and the Orleanist party, in
opposition to the Duke of Burgundy, had espoused the cause of Benedict.
In 1402, to the great chagrin of the University of Paris, France
returned to its allegiance, and Benedict, released from his captivity,
journeyed to the coast of Provence and opened negotiations with his
rival in Rome. The last two Roman Popes, Innocent VII. and Gregory XII.,
had only been elected on the express condition that they would resign as
soon as their opponent did the same. Gregory XII. went so far as to make
an agreement [Sidenote: Negotiations between the two Popes.] with
Benedict, by which the two Popes pledged themselves to create no new
cardinals, and to meet together at Savona in 1407. The agreement was
probably insincere on Gregory’s part, and at any rate there were
powerful influences at work to prevent its execution. Gregory XII. might
be old and unambitious, but his relatives were eager to profit by his
elevation, and he was too feeble to disregard their wishes. And Ladislas
of Naples, who had become almost supreme at Rome under Innocent VII.,
had his own interest in prolonging the schism. A Roman Pope with a rival
at Avignon was bound to support him against the Angevin claimant to
Naples: but a new Pope, chosen at Savona under French influence, would
be sure to espouse the cause of Louis of Anjou. None of the princes of
Europe wished France to recover the ascendency in Church matters which
it had enjoyed from 1305 to 1378, yet this would probably be the result
if France were allowed to take the lead in terminating the schism. So
the negotiations between the two Popes remained ludicrously futile.
Gregory came as far north as Lucca, and Benedict as far south as
Spezzia, yet they could not agree to meet. ‘The one,’ said Leonardo
Bruni, ‘like a land animal, refused to approach the sea; the other, like
a water-beast, refused to leave the shore.’
But Europe was not prepared to allow its interests to be any longer
sacrificed by the selfish procrastination of two aged priests. In France
Benedict’s chief supporter, the Duke of Orleans, had been removed by
assassination in 1407, and Charles VI. was induced by the University to
withdraw his allegiance once more. Benedict replied by a bull of
excommunication against the French bishops, but the bull was burned, on
the proposal of the University. This boldness convinced Benedict that he
could no longer trust in France, and he fled to Perpignan, in his native
state of Roussillon. But meanwhile an important event had taken place in
Italy. [Sidenote: The Cardinals desert the Popes.] The cardinals who had
supported the respective Popes shared the general disgust at the
obstinate refusal of their masters to fulfil their oft-repeated pledges.
Though the Popes had never met, they had come near enough to allow their
cardinals to confer together. The result was that most of them abandoned
the Popes, put themselves under Florentine protection, and summoned a
General Council to meet at Pisa.
The European states were invited to approve the action of the cardinals
by sending delegates to Pisa. The support of [Sidenote: The attitude of
Europe.] France was assured, and England readily agreed to acknowledge
the Council. The Spanish kingdoms, on the other hand, remained passively
loyal to Benedict XIII., and Germany was divided. Wenzel, who had never
done anything to carry out the policy of neutrality which he had
promised France to adopt in 1398, agreed to support the Council on
condition that his title as King of the Romans was formally recognised.
But Rupert, although many of his chief supporters were inclined to
favour the cause of the cardinals, remained obstinate in his allegiance
to the Roman Pope. Within Italy, Ladislas of Naples showed his
determination to enforce his own interests by occupying Rome with his
troops. The two Popes, threatened with general desertion, made a tardy
effort to conciliate public opinion by each summoning a council of his
own. But very few prelates could be induced to attend, and the Council
of Pisa only gained in importance by comparison with these
_conciliabula_.
At Pisa the Council was opened on March 25, 1409. The [Sidenote: The
Council of Pisa, 1409.] delegates present may be divided into two
parties. The majority, including the cardinals who had summoned the
assembly, desired merely to end the schism and to restore the old
organisation in the Church. But some of the more enlightened
ecclesiastics, such as d’Ailly and Gerson, wished to take advantage of
an exceptional opportunity, and to effect such reforms in the Church as
would render similar scandals impossible in the future. Thus the
programme of the Council came to be divided into the _causa unionis_ and
the _causa reformationis_. It was agreed to take the more pressing
question of unity first, but to conciliate the reformers it was given to
be understood that the Council should not separate until it had
considered the reformation of the Church, both in its head and its
members. After this matters proceeded without any hurry, but without any
conflict of opinion. Charges against the two Popes were drawn up and
publicly read. Gregory and Benedict were cited to appear and answer
before the Council. After the third summons they were declared
contumacious, and deprived of their usurped office and dignity. It is
noteworthy that the Popes were not deposed simply on the ground of
public advantage, or because they were not canonically elected; but
distinct charges were brought against them, and the Council claimed the
right to impose the punishment of deposition. It was a novel spectacle
for Europe to see the principles of constitutional government applied in
the Church as they had been enforced in the English state in the cases
of Edward II. and Richard II. With the ground cleared by the decree of
deposition, the cardinals proceeded to a new election, and after eleven
days’ deliberation, their choice fell upon the Archbishop of Milan, who
took the name of Alexander V. (June 26, 1409). The question of reform
was adroitly postponed for the consideration of a new council which was
to meet in 1412, and the Council of Pisa was dissolved on August 7,
1409.
The Council broke up under the impression that it had accomplished at
any rate the most important part of its programme. But it was soon
evident that the schism was as far from an end as ever. Neither Gregory
nor Benedict would acknowledge the legality of the Council and its
proceedings: and indeed it was not hard to question [Sidenote: The
triple schism.] the legality of proceedings that were undoubtedly
revolutionary and without precedent. The Council had no coercive power
to enforce its edicts, and as long as the Popes could find any princes
interested in supporting them, so long they would cling to their titles.
The only difference that the Council had made was that, whereas before
there had been two rival Popes, there were now three. The pontificate of
[Sidenote: Alexander V.] Alexander V. only lasted ten months. During
that period he succeeded in recovering Rome from Ladislas, but only by
reviving civil war by the recognition of Louis of Anjou’s claim to
Naples. His only ecclesiastical measure was a bull which endeavoured to
settle an old quarrel in favour of the mendicant orders. Alexander
himself was a Franciscan, and he recognised the full rights of the
friars to receive confession and to administer the sacraments. The bull
provoked a storm of opposition from the parish clergy, whose rights were
infringed by the intruding friars, and from the University of Paris,
always at war with the Franciscans. The University, which had so
recently welcomed the Pope’s election, now expelled all mendicants, and
demanded that they should renounce the privileges conferred upon them by
the bull. In the midst of this general disapproval, Alexander V. died
(May 8, 1410), and the cardinals elected as his successor the clerical
_condottiere_, Baldassare [Sidenote: Election of John XXIII.] Cossa, who
took the name of John XXIII. The new Pope had rendered great services in
the protection of the Council and the recovery of Rome, and he seemed to
be the only man who could be trusted to resist the threatening power of
Ladislas of Naples. But he had no pretensions to piety, or even to
respectability, and the elevation of a licentious soldier to the highest
ecclesiastical dignity was in itself a scandal to Christendom almost as
great as the schism itself.
The apparent failure of the Council of Pisa seemed to bring discredit
upon its supporters and to justify the action of those who had held
aloof. But Rupert was not able to profit by any improvement this might
[Sidenote: Death of Rupert.] have made in his position, as he died on
May 18, 1410, a few days after Alexander V. His death forced upon the
western electors the problem of a new election, and ten years’
experience had so fully convinced them of the difficulty of overthrowing
the House of Luxemburg, that no candidate outside that house seems to
have been considered. There were now three surviving Luxemburg princes:
Wenzel, who still claimed to be King of the Romans; Sigismund, who had
gained a considerable reputation by the success of his recent rule in
Hungary; and the ambitious Jobst, who had added Brandenburg and Lausitz
to his inheritance in Moravia, and was now the chief adviser of his
cousin in Bohemia. On the great question of the Church these princes had
taken opposite sides: Wenzel and Jobst had acknowledged the Council,
while Sigismund had never withdrawn his allegiance from Gregory XII. The
four Rhenish electors, who alone had voted in the election of Rupert,
were equally divided on the same question. The Archbishop of Trier and
the Elector Palatine were adherents of the Roman Pope, while the
Archbishops of Mainz and Köln supported Alexander V. and his successor.
As none of them were inclined to stultify their action in 1400 by
recognising Wenzel, the ecclesiastical differences decided their votes.
The electors of Mainz and Köln were in favour of Jobst, and the other
two were inclined to support Sigismund.
Sigismund was the first to bring forward his claims, and he had much to
recommend him. He had compelled Bosnia to submit to his rule: the
Servians acknowledged the suzerainty of Hungary; and he had reduced
[Sidenote: Election of Sigismund.] the greater part of Dalmatia, always
inclined to set up a Neapolitan prince. Thus he could offer Germany the
most efficient protection against the Turks, while as heir to Bohemia he
seemed the only man who could mediate in the growing hostility of
Germans and Slavs. As he could not come to Germany in person, he
intrusted his cause to Frederick of Hohenzollern, Burggraf of Nürnberg,
who had saved his life at the battle of Nicopolis, and had since become
his most intimate adviser. But in spite of Sigismund’s distinguished
reputation, his chances of election seemed small if he could only secure
two votes, and if Jobst gave the Brandenburg vote in his own favour. To
get rid of this difficulty Sigismund determined to repudiate the bargain
by which Brandenburg had been pledged to his cousin, and to claim and
exercise the vote himself. He appointed Frederick of Hohenzollern to act
as his proxy: and on September 1, 1410, the latter appeared with the
four Rhenish electors at Frankfort. This last move on Sigismund’s part
found his opponents unprepared. Jobst had made up his mind to stand by
the cause of Wenzel and to secure his own election on his cousin’s
death. He and Rudolf of Saxony had declined to attend the meeting on the
ground that there was no vacancy. The electors of Mainz and Köln did all
they could to delay matters, but on September 20 the Elector Palatine
and the Archbishop of Trier refused to wait any longer. Punctiliously
fulfilling all the customary forms, they examined and approved the
powers of the Burggraf of Nürnberg, and declared Sigismund to be
unanimously elected. By the letter of the Golden Bull the election was
incontestably valid, and even the doubtfulness of his claim to
Brandenburg could hardly be urged against it.
But Sigismund’s opponents had numbers on their side, and were eager to
atone for the blunder they had made in allowing a march to be stolen
upon them. Jobst induced [Sidenote: Election of Jobst.] Wenzel to make
an agreement by which the latter was to be recognised as Roman Emperor,
and in return confirmed Jobst in the possession of Brandenburg and
promised to give the Bohemian vote in favour of his election as King of
the Romans. In October Frankfort witnessed a new election. Five
electors, either in person or by proxy, gave their votes in favour of
Jobst of Moravia. Thus for the second time events in the Empire copied
the example of those in the Church. The first schism between two rival
Popes had been followed by a schism between two rival Kings of the
Romans. In 1409 a third Pope was added, and the next year witnessed the
unique spectacle of three princes of the same family each claiming the
highest temporal dignity on earth. There could be no clearer proof of
the unsuitability of mediæval conceptions to the conditions of Europe in
the fifteenth century.
The triple schism in the Empire was, however, of short duration.
Sigismund was preparing to attack his rival, when [Sidenote: Death of
Jobst.] Jobst suddenly died on January 12, 1411. His removal rendered
possible an agreement between the two brothers. Sigismund recovered his
inherited fief of Brandenburg, and intrusted its administration to
Frederick of Nürnberg. Moravia was annexed to the Bohemian crown, and
has never since been severed from it. As regards the imperial dignity,
Wenzel agreed to give his own vote for Sigismund, as he had given it the
previous year to Jobst, on condition that his own title should be
recognised and that he should have a prior claim to be made emperor. The
support of the Archbishops of Mainz and Köln Sigismund purchased by
changing his attitude on the Church question and abandoning the cause of
Gregory XII. On July 21, 1411, a third election took place at [Sidenote:
Second election of Sigismund.] Frankfort, when the five votes which had
been given for Jobst were unanimously registered in favour of Sigismund.
The Elector Palatine and the Archbishop of Trier took no part in the
matter, as they refused to cast a slur on the legality of their previous
election.
Sigismund was now to all intents and purposes the only King of the
Romans, as Wenzel made no attempt to busy [Sidenote: Sigismund and John
XXIII.] himself with anything but Bohemian affairs. In his new capacity
Sigismund displayed the bustling activity and the readiness to turn from
one great scheme to another which had always characterised him. He began
by making war on the Venetians, who had encroached upon Dalmatia. When
this war was ended by a truce in 1413, he entered Italy to reconquer
Lombardy from the Visconti. But he found the power of Filippo Maria too
strongly established to be easily overthrown, and he was about to retire
when fortune threw another and more distinguished enterprise in his way.
John XXIII. had succeeded to his predecessor’s alliance with Louis II.
of Anjou and to the war with Ladislas of Naples. The defeat of the
Neapolitan king at Rocca-Secca (May 19, 1411) induced him to conclude a
treaty by which he was to abandon Gregory XII. and John was to desert
the Angevin cause. But Ladislas had more ambitious aims than merely to
secure his position in Naples. He desired to build up a kingdom of
Italy, and for this purpose to seize upon the States of the Church which
lay between him and the northern principalities and republics. No sooner
had John XXIII. disbanded his mercenary forces than Ladislas resumed
hostilities, occupied Rome, and drove the Pope to find refuge in
Florence. In this strait John looked eagerly round for support, and the
most obvious ally was Sigismund, who had his own reasons for checking
the aggrandisement of Ladislas. But Sigismund would only give his
assistance on condition that the Pope should summon a new Council to
some German city in order to put an end to the schism. John saw clearly
the danger of such a proceeding to his own position, and strove to alter
the place of meeting to some town south of the Alps. Sigismund, however,
stood firm, the Pope’s difficulties were pressing, and at last a formal
summons was issued for a Council [Sidenote: Summons of the Council of
Constance.] to meet at Constance on November 1, 1414. Before the dreaded
date arrived, the death of Ladislas (August 6) freed the Pope from his
most immediate difficulties and caused him to repent of his too hasty
acquiescence. Sigismund had apparently gained a signal triumph. He had
ousted the French monarchy from the lead of the reforming movement in
Europe, and if he could conduct the Council to a successful issue, he
would have done much to restore the prestige both of the imperial
dignity and of the German kingship. Men were reminded of the days when
the early emperors, Otto the Great and Henry III., had dominated the
Church as well as the State.
Footnote 10:
See Genealogical Table I, in Appendix.