The Pope lay concealed in the Vatican. In the morning the five cardinals

in Rome were assembled round him. A message was sent to the bannerets of

Rome, announcing his election. The six cardinals in St. Angelo were

summoned; they were hardly persuaded to leave their place of security;

but without their presence the Archbishop would not declare his assent

to his elevation. The Cardinal of Florence, as dean, presented the

Pope-elect to the sacred college, and discoursed on the text, "Such

ought he to be, an undefiled high-priest." The Archbishop began a long

harangue, "Fear and trembling have come upon me, the horror of great

darkness." The Cardinal of Florence cut short the ill-timed sermon,

demanding whether he accepted the pontificate. The Archbishop gave his

assent; he took the name of Urban VI. _Te Deum_ was intoned; he was

lifted to the throne. The fugitives returned to Rome. Urban VI was

crowned on Easter Day, in the Church of St. John Lateran. All the

cardinals were present at the august ceremony. They announced the

election of Urban VI to their brethren who had remained in Avignon.

Urban himself addressed the usual encyclic letters, proclaiming his

elevation, to all the prelates in Christendom.

None could determine how far the nomination of the Archbishop of Bari

was free and uncontrolled by the terrors of the raging populace; but the

acknowledgment of Urban VI by all the cardinals, at his inauguration in

the holy office--their assistance at his coronation without protest,

when some at least might have been safe beyond the walls of Rome--their

acceptance of honors, as by the cardinals of Limoges, Poitou, and

Aigrefeuille--the homage of all--might seem to annul all possible

irregularity in the election, to confirm irrefragably the legitimacy of

his title.

Not many days had passed, when the cardinals began to look with dismay

and bitter repentance on their own work. "In Urban VI," said a writer of

these times (on the side of Urban as rightful pontiff), "was verified

the proverb--None is so insolent as a low man suddenly raised to power."

The high-born, haughty, luxurious prelates, both French and Italian,

found that they had set over themselves a master resolved not only to

redress the flagrant and inveterate abuses of the college and of the

hierarchy, but also to force on his reforms in the most hasty and

insulting way. He did the harshest things in the harshest manner.

The Archbishop of Bari, of mean birth, had risen by the virtues of a

monk. He was studious, austere, humble, a diligent reader of the Bible,

master of the canon law, rigid in his fasts; he wore haircloth next his

skin. His time was divided between study, prayer, and business, for

which he had great aptitude. From the poor bishopric of Acherontia he

had been promoted to the archbishopric of Bari, and had presided over

the papal chancery in Avignon. The monk broke out at once on his

elevation in the utmost rudeness and rigor, but the humility changed to

the most offensive haughtiness. Almost his first act was a public rebuke

in his chapel to all the bishops present for their desertion of their

dioceses. He called them perjured traitors. The Bishop of Pampeluna

boldly repelled the charge; he was at Rome, he said, on the affairs of

his see. In the full consistory Urban preached on the text, "I am the

Good Shepherd," and inveighed in a manner not to be mistaken against the

wealth and luxury of the cardinals. Their voluptuous banquets were

notorious--Petrarch had declaimed against them. The Pope threatened a

sumptuary law that they should have but one dish at their table: it was

the rule of his own order. He was determined to extirpate simony. A

cardinal who should receive presents he menaced with excommunication.

He affected to despise wealth. "Thy money perish with thee!" he said to

a collector of the papal revenue. He disdained to conceal the most

unpopular schemes; he declared his intention not to leave Rome. To the

petition of the bannerets of Rome for a promotion of cardinals, he

openly avowed his design to make so large a nomination that the Italians

should resume their ascendency over the Ultramontanes. The Cardinal of

Geneva turned pale and left the consistory. Urban declared himself

determined to do equal justice between man and man, between the kings of

France and England. The French cardinals, and those in the pay of

France, heard this with great indignation.

The manners of Urban were even more offensive than his acts. "Hold your

tongue!" "You have talked long enough!" were his common phrases to his

mitred counsellors. He called the Cardinal Orsini a fool. He charged the

Cardinal of St. Marcellus of Amiens, on his return from his legation in

Tuscany, with having robbed the treasures of the Church. The charge was

not less insulting for its justice. The Cardinal of Amiens, instead of

allaying the feuds of France and England, which it was his holy mission

to allay, had inflamed them in order to glut his own insatiable avarice

by draining the wealth of both countries in the Pope's name. "As

Archbishop of Bari, you lie," was the reply of the high-born Frenchman.

On one occasion such high words passed with the Cardinal of Limoges that

but for the interposition of another cardinal the Pope would have rushed

on him, and there had been a personal conflict.

Such were among the stories of the time. Friends and foes agree in

attributing the schism, at least the immediate schism, to the imprudent

zeal, the imperiousness, the ungovernable temper of Pope Urban. The

cardinals among themselves talked of him as mad; they began to murmur

that it was a compulsory, therefore invalid, election.

The French cardinals were now at Anagni: they were joined by the

Cardinal of Amiens, who had taken no part in the election, but who was

burning under the insulting words of the Pope, perhaps not too eager to

render an account of his legation. The Pope retired to Tivoli; he

summoned the cardinals to that city. They answered that they had gone

to large expenses in laying in provisions and making preparations for

their residence in Anagni; they had no means to supply a second sojourn

in Tivoli. The Pope, with his four Italian cardinals, passed two

important acts as sovereign pontiff. He confirmed the election of

Wenceslaus, son of Charles IV, to the empire; he completed the treaty

with Florence by which the republic paid a large sum to the see of Rome.

The amount was seventy thousand florins in the course of the year, one

hundred and eighty thousand in four years, for the expenses of the war.

They were relieved from ecclesiastical censures, under which this

enlightened republic, though Italian, trembled, even from a pope of

doubtful title. Their awe showed perhaps the weakness and dissensions in

Florence rather than the papal power.

The cardinals at Anagni sent a summons to their brethren inviting them

to share in their counsels concerning the compulsory election of the

successor to Gregory XI. Already the opinions of great legists had been

taken; some of them, that of the famous Baldus, may still be read. He

was in favor of the validity of the election.

But grave legal arguments and ecclesiastical logic were not to decide a

contest which had stirred so deeply the passions and interests of two

great factions. France and Italy were at strife for the popedom. The

Ultramontane cardinals would not tamely abandon a power which had given

them rank, wealth, luxury, virtually the spiritual supremacy of the

world, for seventy years. Italy, Rome, would not forego the golden

opportunity of resuming the long-lost authority. On the 9th of August

the cardinals at Anagni publicly declared, they announced in encyclic

letters addressed to the faithful in all Christendom, that the election

of Urban VI was carried by force and the fear of death; that through the

same force and fear he had been inaugurated, enthroned, and crowned;

that he was an apostate, an accursed antichrist. They pronounced him a

tyrannical usurper of the popedom, a wolf that had stolen into the fold.

They called upon him to descend at once from the throne which he

occupied without canonical title; if repentant, he might find mercy; if

he persisted he would provoke the indignation of God, of the apostles

St. Peter and St. Paul, and all of the saints, for his violation of the

Spouse of Christ, the common Mother of the Faithful. It was signed by

thirteen cardinals. The more pious and devout were shocked at this

avowal of cowardice; cardinals who would not be martyrs in the cause of

truth and of spiritual freedom condemned themselves.

But letters and appeals to the judgment of the world, and awful

maledictions, were not their only resources. The fierce Breton bands

were used to march and to be indulged in their worst excesses under the

banner of the Cardinal of Geneva. As Ultramontanists it was their

interest, their inclination, to espouse the Ultramontane cause. They

arrayed themselves to advance and join the cardinals at Anagni. The

Romans rose to oppose them; a fight took place near the Ponte Salario,

three hundred Romans lay dead on the field.

Urban VI was as blind to cautious temporal as to cautious ecclesiastical

policy. Every act of the Pope raised him up new enemies. Joanna, Queen

of Naples, had hailed the elevation of her subject the Archbishop of

Bari. Naples had been brilliantly illuminated. Shiploads of fruit and

wines, and the more solid gift of twenty thousand florins, had been her

oblations to the Pope. Her husband, Otho of Brunswick, had gone to Rome

to pay his personal homage. His object was to determine in his own favor

the succession to the realm. The reception of Otho was cold and

repulsive; he returned in disgust. The Queen eagerly listened to

suspicions, skilfully awakened, that Urban meditated the resumption of

the fief of Naples, and its grant to the rival house of Hungary. She

became the sworn ally of the cardinals at Anagni. Honorato Gaetani,

Count of Fondi, one of the most turbulent barons of the land, demanded

of the Pontiff twenty thousand florins advanced on loan to Gregory XI.

Urban not only rejected the claim, declaring it a personal debt of the

late Pope, not of the holy see, he also deprived Gaetani of his fief,

and granted it to his mortal enemy, the Count San Severino. Gaetani

began immediately to seize the adjacent castles in Campania, and invited

the cardinals to his stronghold at Fondi. The Archbishop of Arles,

chamberlain of the late Pope, leaving the castle of St. Angelo under the

guard of a commander who long refused all orders from Pope Urban,

brought to Anagni the jewels and ornaments of the papacy, which had been

carried for security to St. Angelo. The prefect of the city, De Vico,

Lord of Viterbo, had been won over by the Cardinal of Amiens.

The four Italian cardinals still adhered to Pope Urban. They labored

hard to mediate between the conflicting parties. Conferences were held

at Zagarolo and other places; when the French cardinals had retired to

Fondi, the Italians took up their quarters at Subiaco. The Cardinal of

St. Peter's, worn out with age and trouble, withdrew to Rome, and soon

after died. He left a testamentary document declaring the validity of

the election of Urban. The French cardinals had declared the election

void; they were debating the next step. Some suggested the appointment

of a coadjutor. They were now sure of the support of the King of France,

who would not easily surrender his influence over a pope at Avignon, and

of the Queen of Naples, estranged by the pride of Urban, and secretly

stimulated by the Cardinal Orsini, who had not forgiven his own loss of

the tiara. Yet even now they seemed to shrink from the creation of an

antipope. Urban precipitated and made inevitable this disastrous event.

He was now alone; the Cardinal of St. Peter's was dead; Florence, Milan,

and the Orsini stood aloof; they seemed only to wait to be thrown off by

Urban, to join the adverse faction. Urban at first declared his

intention to create nine cardinals; he proceeded at once, and without

warning, to create twenty-six.[65] By this step the French and Italian

cardinals together were now but an insignificant minority. They were

instantly one. All must be risked or all lost.

On September 20th, at Fondi, Robert of Geneva was elected pope in the

presence of all the cardinals (except St. Peter's) who had chosen,

inaugurated, enthroned, and for a time obeyed Urban VI. The Italians

refused to give their suffrages, but entered no protest. They retired

into their castles and remained aloof from the schism. Orsini died

before long at Tagliacozzo. The qualifications which, according to his

partial biographer, recommended the Cardinal of Geneva, were rather

those of a successor to John Hawkwood or to a duke of Milan, than of the

apostles. Extraordinary activity of body and endurance of fatigue,

courage which would hazard his life to put down the intrusive pope,

sagacity and experience in the temporal affairs of the Church; high

birth, through which he was allied with most of the royal and princely

houses of Europe; of austerity, devotion, learning, holiness, charity,

not a word. He took the name of Clement VII; the Italians bitterly

taunted the mockery of this name, assumed by the captain of the Breton

Free Companies--by the author, it was believed, of the massacre at

Cesena.

So began the schism which divided Western Christendom for thirty-eight

years. Italy, excepting the kingdom of Joanna of Naples, adhered to her

native pontiff; Germany and Bohemia to the pontiff who had recognized

King Wenceslaus as emperor; England to the pontiff hostile to

France;[66] Hungary to the pontiff who might support her pretentions to

Naples; Poland and the Northern kingdoms, with Portugal, espoused the

same cause. France at first stood almost alone in support of her

subject, of a pope at Avignon instead of at Rome. Scotland only was with

Clement, because England was with Urban. So Flanders was with Urban

because France was with Clement. The uncommon abilities of Peter di

Luna, the Spanish cardinal (afterward better known under a higher

title), detached successively the Spanish kingdoms, Castile, Aragon, and

Navarre, from allegiance to Pope Urban.

GENOESE SURRENDER TO VENETIANS

A.D. 1380

HENRY HALLAM

Prolonged commercial rivalry between Genoa and Venice

brought them to a state of bitter jealousy which led to

furious wars. In the second half of the twelfth century

Genoa established her power on the Black Sea, and aimed at a

commercial monopoly in that region. This aroused the

Venetians to anger and led to open hostilities. The first

war growing out of these antagonisms between the two

republics began in 1257, and throughout the rest of the

thirteenth century hostilities were almost continuous.

In 1351 the Venetians formed an alliance against Genoa with

the Greeks and Aragonese, and, in the ensuing war, the

advantage gained by Genoa was confirmed by a treaty of peace

in 1355. But this peace lasted only until 1378, when a

dispute arose between Genoa and Venice in relation to the

island of Tenedos, in the Ægean Sea, of which the Venetians

had taken possession.

The Venetians, having denounced Genoa as false to all its

oaths and obligations, formally declared war in April, after

several acts of hostility had occurred in the Levant. Of all

the wars between the rival states, this was the most

remarkable and led to the most important consequences.

Genoa did not stand alone in this war. A formidable confederacy was

raised against Venice, which had given provocation to many enemies. Of

this Francis Carrara, seignior of Padua, and the King of Hungary were

the leaders. But the principal struggle was, as usual, upon the waves.

During the winter of 1378 a Genoese fleet kept the sea, and ravaged the

shores of Dalmatia. The Venetian armament had been weakened by an

epidemic disease, and when Vittor Pisani, their admiral, gave battle to

the enemy, he was compelled to fight with a hasty conscription of

landsmen against the best sailors in the world.

Entirely defeated, and taking refuge at Venice with only seven galleys,

Pisani was cast into prison, as if his ill-fortune had been his crime.

Meanwhile the Genoese fleet, augmented by a strong reënforcement, rode

before the long natural ramparts that separate the lagunes of Venice

from the Adriatic. Six passages intersect the islands which constitute

this barrier, besides the broader outlets of Brondolo and Fossone,

through which the waters of the Brenta and the Adige are discharged. The

Lagoon itself, as is well known, consists of extremely shallow water,

unnavigable for any vessel except along the course of artificial and

intricate passages.

Notwithstanding the apparent difficulties of such an enterprise, Pietro

Doria, the Genoese admiral, determined to reduce the city. His first

successes gave him reason to hope. He forced the passage, and stormed

the little town of Chioggia, built upon the inside of the isle bearing

that name, about twenty-five miles south of Venice. Nearly four thousand

prisoners fell here into his hands--an augury, as it seemed, of a more

splendid triumph.

In the consternation this misfortune inspired at Venice, the first

impulse was to ask for peace. The ambassadors carried with them seven

Genoese prisoners, as a sort of peace-offering to the admiral, and were

empowered to make large and humiliating concessions, reserving nothing

but the liberty of Venice. Francis Carrara strongly urged his allies to

treat for peace. But the Genoese were stimulated by long hatred, and

intoxicated by this unexpected opportunity of revenge. Doria, calling

the ambassadors into council, thus addressed them: "Ye shall obtain no

peace from us, I swear to you, nor from the lord of Padua, till first we

have put a curb in the mouths of those wild horses that stand upon the

place of St. Mark. When they are bridled you shall have enough of peace.

Take back with you your Genoese captives, for I am coming within a few

days to release both them and their companions from your prisons."

When this answer was reported to the senate, they prepared to defend

themselves with the characteristic firmness of their government. Every

eye was turned toward a great man unjustly punished, their admiral,

Vittor Pisani. He was called out of prison to defend his country amid

general acclamations. Under his vigorous command the canals were

fortified or occupied by large vessels armed with artillery; thirty-four

galleys were equipped; every citizen contributed according to his power;

in the entire want of commercial resources--for Venice had not a

merchant-ship during this war--private plate was melted; and the senate

held out the promise of ennobling thirty families who should be most

forward in this strife of patriotism.

The new fleet was so ill-provided with seamen that for some months the

admiral employed them only in manoeuvring along the canals. From some

unaccountable supineness, or more probably from the insuperable

difficulties of the undertaking, the Genoese made no assault upon the

city. They had, indeed, fair grounds to hope its reduction by famine or

despair. Every access to the Continent was cut off by the troops of

Padua; and the King of Hungary had mastered almost all the Venetian

towns in Istria and along the Dalmatian coast. The doge Contarini,

taking the chief command, appeared at length with his fleet near

Chioggia, before the Genoese were aware. They were still less aware of

his secret design. He pushed one of the large round vessels, then called

_cocche_, into the narrow passage of Chioggia which connects the Lagoon

with the sea, and, mooring her athwart the channel, interrupted that

communication. Attacked with fury by the enemy, this vessel went down on

the spot, and the Doge improved his advantage by sinking loads of stones

until the passage became absolutely unnavigable.

It was still possible for the Genoese fleet to follow the principal

canal of the Lagoon toward Venice and the northern passages, or to sail

out of it by the harbor of Brondolo; but, whether from confusion or from

miscalculating the dangers of their position, they suffered the

Venetians to close the canal upon them by the same means they had used

at Chioggia, and even to place their fleet in the entrance of Brondolo

so near to the Lagoon that the Genoese could not form their ships in

line of battle. The circumstances of the two combatants were thus

entirely changed. But the Genoese fleet, though besieged in Chioggia,

was impregnable, and their command of the land secured them from famine.

Venice, notwithstanding her unexpected success, was still very far from

secure; it was difficult for the Doge to keep his position through the

winter; and if the enemy could appear in open sea, the risks of combat

were extremely hazardous. It is said that the senate deliberated upon

transporting the seat of their liberty to Candia, and that the Doge had

announced his intention to raise the siege of Chioggia, if expected

succors did not arrive by January 1, 1380. On that very day Carlo Zeno,

an admiral who, ignorant of the dangers of his country, had been

supporting the honor of her flag in the Levant and on the coast of

Liguria, appeared with a reënforcement of eighteen galleys and a store

of provisions.

From that moment the confidence of Venice revived. The fleet, now

superior in strength to the enemy, began to attack them with vivacity.

After several months of obstinate resistance, the Genoese--whom their

republic had ineffectually attempted to relieve by a fresh

armament--blocked up in the town of Chioggia, and pressed by hunger,

were obliged to surrender. Nineteen galleys only, out of forty-eight,

were in good condition; and the crews were equally diminished in the ten

months of their occupation of Chioggia. The pride of Genoa was deemed to

be justly humbled; and even her own historian confesses that God would

not suffer so noble a city as Venice to become the spoil of a conqueror.

Though the capture of Chioggia did not terminate the war, both parties

were exhausted, and willing, next year, to accept the mediation of the

Duke of Savoy. By the peace of Turin, Venice surrendered most of her

territorial possessions to the King of Hungary. That Prince and Francis

Carrara were the only gainers. Genoa obtained the isle of Tenedos, one

of the original subjects of dispute--a poor indemnity for her losses.

Though, upon a hasty view, the result of this war appears more

unfavorable to Venice, yet in fact it is the epoch of the decline of

Genoa. From this time she never commanded the ocean with such navies as

before; her commerce gradually went into decay; and the fifteenth

century--the most splendid in the annals of Venice--is, till recent

times, the most ignominious in those of Genoa. But this was partly owing

to internal dissensions, by which her liberty, as well as glory, was for

a while suspended.

REBELLION OF WAT TYLER

A.D. 1381

JOHN LINGARD

Richard II, of England, at eleven years of age, succeeded to

a heritage of foreign complications and wars, which were a

legacy from the reign of his grandfather, Edward III.

At the request of the commons, the lords, in the King's

name, appointed nine persons to be a permanent council, and

it was resolved that during the King's minority the

appointment of all the chief officers of the crown should be

with the parliament. The administration was conducted in the

King's name, and the whole system was for some years kept

together by the secret authority of the King's uncles,

especially of the Duke of Lancaster, who was in reality the

regent.

France, Scotland, and Castile continued their hostilities

against England, and during the first two years of Richard's

reign the ministers had no difficulty in obtaining ample

grants of money to carry on the wars. In the third year the

expense of the campaign in Brittany compelled them to

solicit yet additional aid.

The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 07 · 第 20 / 38 段