After Conon and his baroness have soiled their gentle blood by
discreet trafficking at the Pontdebois fair, the seigneur must needs
pay a ceremonious call upon the lord bishop. He might indeed have
accepted lodgings at the episcopal palace, but it is well not to be
put under too many obligations even to so conciliatory a prelate as
Bishop Nivelon. Between the lay and ecclesiastical lords there are
compliments, but little affection. Both unite in despising the villein
and distrusting the monks, but there the harmony often ends.
The lord bishop occupies almost the apex of the ecclesiastical power,
barring only the Pope and his cardinals; and all the lay world ought to
honor the clergy. A familiar story illustrates the recognition due even
to the humbler churchmen. Once St. Martin was asked to sup with the
emperor. He was offered the cup before it was passed to the sovereign.
This was a great honor. He was supposed merely to touch the vessel to
his lips, then hand it on to his Majesty. Instead, to the surprise yet
admiration of all, he gave it to a poor priest standing behind him,
thereby teaching the plain lesson that a servant of God, even of the
lowest rank, deserves honor above the highest secular potentate.
The clergy is divided into two great sections--the religious (the
monks) and the secular clergy who are "in the world" and have the "cure
of souls." The parish priests belong, of course, to this second class.
They celebrate mass and administer the sacraments and consolations of
religion. They are possibly reckoned by the laity a little less holy
than the monks, but their power is incalculable. At their head in each
diocese (ecclesiastical province) is the bishop. Since the wealth
of the Church embraces at least one fifth of all the real estate of
France[120] and the control of this vast property is largely vested in
the bishops, it is easy to see what holding such an office implies.
There is no seigneur in Quelqueparte so rich as Bishop Nivelon, barring
only the duke himself--and the duke would justly hesitate, quite apart
from feelings of piety, to force a quarrel with so great a spiritual
lord.
[Illustration: EPISCOPAL THRONE OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
Restored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from an ivory in the Louvre.]
[Sidenote: Activities and Privileges of Clergy]
It will be hard for other ages to realize the part that is played
by the Church in the feudal centuries. The clergy are far more than
spiritual guides. They are directors of education and maintain about
all there is of intellectual life, science, and learning. They help
the weak secular authorities to preserve law and order. They supply
practically all the teachers, lawyers, and professional nonfeudal
judges in Christendom, and very many of the physicians. As already
stated, that multitude of legal cases known as "probate," involving the
disposal of wide estates, often go directly to the Church Courts.
If an ordinary man appears interested in literary matters, he is
frequently set down as a "clerk," even if he does not openly claim to
have received holy orders. It is indeed very desirable legally for a
common person (not a privileged noble) to be barely literate. If he can
do this and is arrested on any charge, he can often "plead his clergy."
The test is not to produce a certificate showing that he is a priest or
monk, but to be able to read a few lines from the Bible or other sacred
book. If he can read these fateful "neck verses," he may sometimes
escape a speedy interview with the hangman. He is then ordinarily
handed over to the bishop or the bishop's official (judicial officer)
and tried according to the merciful and scientific canon law, which,
whatever the offense, will seldom or never order the death penalty,
save for heresy.[121] The worst to be feared is a long imprisonment in
the uncomfortable dungeon under the bishop's palace.
With conditions like this, what wonder if very worldly elements keep
intruding into the secular clergy. Many a baron's son balances in
his mind--which is better, the seigneur's "cap of presence" or the
bishop's miter? The bishop, indeed, cannot marry; but the Church is
not always very stern in dealing with other forms of social enjoyment.
Sometimes a powerful reforming Pope will make the prelates affect a
monkish austerity--but the next Pope may prove too busy to be insistent
concerning "sins of the flesh." A great fraction of all the bishops are
the sons of noble houses. Merely becoming tonsured has not made them
into saints. They are the children of fighting sires, and they bring
into the Church much of the turbulence of their fathers and brothers in
the castles.
[Illustration: A BISHOP OF THE TWELFTH CENTURY
From an enameled plaque representing Ulger, bishop of Angers
(1125-1149). He wears the albe, the dalmatica, the chasuble, the amice,
and the miter. He blesses with the right hand, an attitude in which
bishops are often represented.]
[Sidenote: Election of Bishops]
Certainly, men of humble birth can become prelates. It is one of
the glories of the Church that, thanks to her, the children of poor
villeins can receive the homage of the great in this world. Pope
Sylvester II was the son of a mere shepherd of Aurillac. Suger, the
mighty abbot of St. Denis and vice gerent for Louis VI, was the son
of an actual serf. Pope Hadrian IV, the only Englishman who has ever
mounted the throne of St. Peter, seems to have had an origin hardly
more exalted. All this shows what fortune can sometimes await bright
and lucky boys who enter betimes the convent schools instead of
following the plow.[122] But Heaven seldom reverses the natural order.
As a rule, when a noble enters the church, family influence and the
social prestige of his caste will get behind him. He is far more likely
to be elected bishop and to enjoy the seats of glory than are his
fellow clerics, learned and devout, who have no such backing.
Nivelon of Pontdebois is an example of the average bishop of the
superior kind. He was the second son of a sire of moderate means.
Family influence secured him, while fairly young, the appointment
as canon at the cathedral. The old bishop conveniently happened to
die at a time when both the duke and his suzerain, the king, thought
well of the young canon and were anxious to conciliate his relatives.
Nivelon, too, had displayed sufficient grasp on business affairs, along
with real piety, to make men say that he would prove a worthy "prince
spiritual." The canons (with whom the choice nominally lay) made haste
to elect him after a broad hint from both the duke and the king.
Confirmation was obtained from Rome after negotiations and possibly
some money transfers.[123] Since then Nivelon has ruled his diocese
well. He has been neither a great theologian nor a man of letters, as
are certain contemporaneous bishops, nor a self-seeking politician and
a mitered warrior like others. There have been no scandalous luxuries
at his palace, and he has never neglected his duties--which none can
deny are numerous.
There is plenty of excuse for Nivelon if he allows religious tasks
to be swamped by secular ones. He apparently differs largely from a
seigneur in that his interests and obligations are more complex. On his
direct domains are parish churches, abbeys, farms, peasant villages,
and forests which he must rule by his officials and provosts just as
Conon rules St. Aliquis. He has many noble fiefs which owe him homage
and regular feudal duties in peace and war. His knightly vassals wait
on him, as do regular lieges, and are bound on state occasions to carry
him through his cathedral city seated on his episcopal throne. He does
not himself do ordinary homage to the king, but he must take to him a
solemn oath of fealty, and assist with armed levies on proper summons.
There are many clergy around his palace, but also a regular baronial
household--seneschal, steward, chamberlain, marshal, and equerry,
though not, as with the laxer prelates, a master of the hawks.
So much for Monseigneur Nivelon's temporal side; but, since he is a
self-respecting prelate, his ecclesiastical office is no sinecure.
He has to ordain and control all the parish priests (curés), and
spends much of his time inspecting the rural churches and listening
to complaints against offending priests, suspending and punishing the
guilty. Indeed, his days are consumed by a curious mixture of duties.
Just before Conon ceremoniously calls upon him he has been listening
first to a complaint from a castellan about the need of new trenchbuts
for the defense of a small castle pertaining to the bishopric, and then
to the report of his "official" concerning a disorderly priest accused
of blaspheming the Trinity while in his cups in a tavern.
[Sidenote: Ecclesiastical Duties of Bishops]
Once a year Nivelon has to hold a synod in the choir of his cathedral.
All the nonmonastic clergy of the diocese are supposed to be present,
and he has to preach before them, stating home truths about Christian
conduct and administering public reprimands and discipline. Often
his routine is interrupted by the commands of the king that he, as a
well-versed man of the world, shall come to Paris to give counsel,
or even go to England or Flanders as the royal ambassador. If the
king does not demand his time, the Pope is likely to be using him to
investigate some disorderly abbey,[124] or as arbiter between two
wrangling fellow ecclesiastics. It would be lucky if a summons did
not presently come, ordering the bishop to take the very tedious and
expensive journey to Rome to assist at some council (such as the
Lateran Council of 1215) or be party to some long-drawn litigation.
[Illustration: A BISHOP OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
From the tomb of Evrard de Frouilloy, bishop of Amiens, died in 1229
and was buried in the cathedral of that city. He wears beneath the
albe, the chasuble.]
A conscientious bishop can, indeed, be no idler. If he has any spare
time he can always spend it sitting as judge in cases which if he is
compelled to be absent he deputes to his official. The canon law is far
more scientific than local customs. Nivelon, or his deputy, has also
a clear understanding of issues which will leave even so well-meaning
a seigneur as Conon hopelessly befuddled. The Church courts refuse
to settle cases by duels. As a rule, too, they discourage ordeals,
despite the alleged intervention of God therein. Trials in the
bishop's court betake of inquests based on firm evidence taken before
experienced judges. The result is that many honest suitors try to
get their cases before the Church tribunals--and, as stated, the
jurisdiction of the Church is very wide. A bishop, therefore, if he
wishes, can put in almost his whole time playing the Solomon; or,
if he prefer, he can almost always find the estates of the diocese
enmeshed in financial problems which it will tax his best energies to
disentangle.
All these things Nivelon is supposed to do or must get done. What
wonder (considering mortal frailty) that many men who seek the
episcopate for temporal advantage often bring their great office
into contempt? It is true that sometimes very worldly young clerics,
when once elected, are sobered by their responsibilities and become
admirable prelates. There is a story of a college of canons which
decided to elect to the vacant bishopric a fellow member "who was
excellent in mother wit," but who, when they sought him to tell of
his honor, was actually dicing in a tavern. Forth they dragged him,
"weeping and struggling," to the cathedral, and thrust him into the
episcopal chair. Once enthroned, however, he proved sober and capable,
thus proving how, despite his original sins, "the free gift of virtue
which had come upon him (by consecration) shaped the possibilities of
an excellent nature."
[Sidenote: Evil and Luxurious Prelates]
This is all very well, but the sacred honor does not always work
such reformation. The monks never conceal the faults of the rival
branch of the clergy. A monkish preacher has lately declaimed: "The
bishops surpass as wolves and foxes. They bribe and flatter in order
to extort. Instead of being protectors of the Church, they are its
ravishers." Or again, "Jesus wore hair cloth; they silken vestments.
They care not for souls, but for falcons; not for the poor, but for
hunting dogs. The churches from being holy places have become market
places and haunts for brigands." Most of this is mere rhetoric,
and such sweeping generalizations are unjust. If the majority of
bishops are not ascetics, neither are they rapacious libertines.
Nevertheless, even as one ill-ruled abbey brings contempt on many
austere establishments, so a few faithless bishops bring scandal on the
whole episcopate. Some years ago Pope Innocent III had to denounce a
South French bishop as "serving no other God but money, and having a
purse in place of a heart." This wretch was charged with selling Church
offices, or leaving them vacant in order to seize their incomes, while
the monks and canons under him (says the Pope) "were laying aside the
habit, taking wives, living by usury, and becoming lawyers, jongleurs,
or doctors."[125]
Acts like these have forced the Council of Paris in 1212 to forbid
bishops to wear laymen's garments or luxurious furs; to use decorated
saddles or golden horse bits, to play games of chance, to go hunting,
to swear or let their servants swear, to hear matins while still in
bed, or excommunicate innocent people out of mere petulance. Bishops,
too, are not supposed to bear arms, but we have seen how they sometimes
compromise on "bloodless" heavy maces. Nivelon occasionally lets a
secular advocate or vidame lead his feudal levy, but at times he will
ride in person. A bishop, of course, was King Philip's chief of staff
at Bouvines,[126] although in excuse it should be said he had been the
member of a military monastic order; but Bishop Odo of Bayeux fought
at Hastings (1066) before any such authorized champions of the Church
existed. One need not multiply examples. That bishops shall genuinely
refrain from warfare is really a "pious wish" not easily in this sinful
world to be granted.
A bishop can, however, justify this assertion of the Church militant.
He must fight to maintain the rights of the bishopric against the
encroaching nobility. Around the royal domain conditions are reasonably
secure, but here in Quelqueparte, as elsewhere in the average feudal
principalities, it is useless to ask the suzerain to do very much to
defend his local bishop, the two are so likely to be very unfriendly
themselves. Anathemas cannot check the more reckless seigneurs. In
1208 the Bishop of Verdun was killed in a riot by a lance thrust, and
in this very year 1220 the Bishop of Puy (in the south of France) has
been slain by noblemen whom he had excommunicated. The murderers have
doubtless lost their souls, but this fact does not recall the dead!
Jongleurs (who echo baronial prejudices) are always making fun of
bishops, in their epics alleging that they lead scandalous lives and
are extraordinarily avaricious, even when summoned to contribute for
a war against the Infidels. The truth is, the bishops, being often
recruited from the nobility, frequently keep all their old fighting
spirit. The bishop opposes a neighboring viscount, just as the viscount
will oppose his other neighbor, a baron. Frequently enough the war
between a bishop and a lay seigneur differs in no respect from a
normal feud between two seigneurs who have never been touched by
tonsure and chrism.
[Sidenote: Friction with Abbots and Barons]
There are other frictions less bloody, but even more distressing to the
Church. If there is an exempt abbey in the diocese--independent of the
bishop and taking orders from only the Pope--the abbot and the bishop
are often anything but "brethren." Each is continually complaining
about the other to the Vatican. However, even if the local abbey is not
directly under the Pope, its head is likely to defy the bishop as much
as possible. Abbots are always trying to put themselves on equality
with bishops and intriguing at Rome for the right to wear episcopal
sandals, a miter, etc. So the strength of the Church is wasted, to
the great joy of the devil. It is counted a sign that the Bishop of
Pontdebois and the Abbot of St. Aliquis are both superior prelates,
that their relations are reasonably harmonious.
However, it is with the nobles that Nivelon has his main troubles.
One of the reasons why Conon wishes to see the bishop is to complain
of how certain St. Aliquis peasants are being induced to settle on
the Church lands. Villeins somehow feel that they are better treated
by a bishop or abbot than by the most benevolent of seigneurs. "There
is good living under the cross," runs the proverb. Also, the baron
wishes to urge the bishop not to excommunicate a fellow noble who is
at issue with the prelate over some hunting rights. It is all very
well for the bishop to devote to the evil one and the eternal fire a
really sacrilegious criminal. The fact remains that many nobles allege
that they are excommunicated, and unless reinstated lose their very
hopes of heaven, merely because they have differed from great churchmen
as to extremely secular property questions. The fearful ceremony of
excommunication is liable to fall into contempt except when used in
the most undoubted cases. A resolute baron, sure of his cause, can defy
the anathema and, if his followers stand by him, may hold out until he
forces a compromise.
If the struggle is bitter, however, the bishop has another weapon.
He can put the offending seigneur's lands and castles under the
Interdict. Doubtless it is a harsh thing to deny all religious services
and sacraments, save the last unction to the dying, to thousands of
innocent persons merely because their lord persists in some worldly
policy. Yet this is done frequently, and is, of course, of great
efficacy in getting pious people, and especially the womenfolk, to
put pressure upon their seigneur to come to terms with the Church.
Sometimes an "intermittent" interdict is established. Thus, for a long
time the Count and the Bishop of Auxerre were at enmity. The count, a
hardened scoffer, was no wise troubled by excommunication. Then the
bishop ordained that as soon as the count entered the city of Auxerre
all the offices of religion, except baptism and last unction, should
be suspended. The moment he and his men departed the church bells rang
and religious life resumed. The instant he returned there was more
bell ringing--whereat the churches were closed. The count did not dare
to stay very long in the city, because of popular murmurs; yet he and
the bishop kept up this unedifying war for fifteen years until the
Pope induced the king to induce the count to submit to the Church by a
humiliating penance.
Excommunication and interdict are thus weapons which a lord spiritual
can use against a lord temporal, to supplement crossbows and lances.
Unfortunately they have fewer terrors against foes which all bishops,
including Nivelon, have within their own household--the chapters of
canons at the cathedrals.
[Sidenote: A Chapter of Canons]
To be a canon is almost equal to enjoying the perquisites of some less
valuable bishopric without the grievous cares of the episcopal office.
The chapter of canons constitutes the privileged body of ecclesiastics
who maintain the worship at the cathedral.
As you go through Pontdebois you see the great gray mass of the new
episcopal church rising ahead of you. Presently a solid wall is
reached, protected by a gate and towers. This is the cathedral "close,"
a separate compound next to the majestic church and communicating with
it by a special entrance. Within this close one passes under strictly
ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Here is a pretentious residence, the
bishop's palace, and a pleasant garden, and here is also a group of
smaller houses--the habitations of the canons. These last form the
chapter of canons who enjoy as a corporate body a quantity of lands,
seigneurial rights, officers, and goodly income quite separate from the
bishops. Supposedly they are controlled by a Rule, but it is a rule far
less severe than that of most monks.
The chapter here, as elsewhere, is largely recruited from the local
noble houses. Church law nominally forbids it, but the fact remains
that many, if not most, canons are practically nominated, whenever
there is a vacancy in the chapter, by this or that powerful seigneur.
To get a relative a prebend (income from endowment) as canon is often
equivalent to providing for life for a kinsman to whom you might
otherwise have to cede a castle. It is well understood that since years
ago a baron of St. Aliquis endowed with large gifts a certain prebend,
his successors have the naming of its occupants, as often as it falls
vacant. After Conon has visited the bishop, he will pay a friendly
call on "his canon," not without a certain desire to verify the reports
that this elderly cleric is in poor health and not long for the present
world. If such rumors are correct, the baron must consider whether
a certain remote cousin feels summoned to endure the hardships of a
religious life, and what substantial favors this ambitious cousin and
his father could give Conon for the privilege.
A canon who performs _all_ his duties is hardly idle. He is supposed to
take part in the incessant and often extraordinarily elaborate services
at every cathedral. He should possess a good physical presence, and
intone the offices with elegance and precision. Every week day he has
to chant through five services, and on Sunday through nine. On certain
great feasts and holidays there are still more. Anthems, responses,
psalms, prayers, hymns, also public processions should keep him turning
leaves of the ponderous ordinaries and manuals until he knows every
chant therein by heart.
[Sidenote: Worldliness of Canons]
It is possible, however, to find substitutes in all the less important
services. There are plenty of humbly born poor priests hovering around
every cathedral, glad of a pittance to act as the lordly canon's
deputies. A worldly minded canon therefore does not feel this duty of
chanting to be very arduous. Of course, if he is absent too often,
or from very important ceremonies, there is comment, scandal, and a
reprimand from the bishop; but a wise bishop does not interfere with
his canons except on grave provocation. They form an independent
corporation with well-intrenched privileges. Their head, the dean, is
entirely conscious that he is the second cleric in the diocese and
that he need not look to the bishop for dignity and glory. The bishop
himself has been to a certain extent chosen by these very canons. It
will depend considerably upon their attitude toward him whether his
dying moments are not embittered by the knowledge that his dearest
enemy is not to be elected his successor. Finally, a chapter of canons
can make a bishop's life a Gehenna by filing complaints against him
with the archbishop (always glad to interfere), or directly at Rome.
When men say that Nivelon has got along tolerably with his chapter as
well as with his neighboring abbot and seigneurs, they prove again that
he is an unusually tactful prelate.
It is a fine thing, therefore, to be one of the dozen-odd canons,
young or old, who inhabit the sacred close at Pontdebois. They can be
identified by their special costume, the loose surplice of linen with
wide sleeves covering the cassock, and by the "amice," a headdress of
thick black stuff with a flat top and terminating on each corner in a
kind of horn.
Baron Conon points out to his sons these well-fed men of florid
complexion, contented and portly, moving with slow dignity about the
cathedral close. "How would you enjoy being a canon?" he asks of small
Anseau, his youngest boy. "There are no better dinners than those in
the chapter refectory; and remember that your brother will have to get
the castle."
Anseau shakes his head and scowls: "I might be a monk, yes," he
rejoined; "monks save their souls and go to heaven--but a canon--ugh!
They must weary God by their idleness. François may have St. Aliquis;
but let him give me a good destrer and good armor. I will seek my
fortune and win new lands."
"The saints bless your words," cries his father, "there spoke a true
St. Aliquis! And remember this: When cavalier or jongleur rails hardest
against worthless churchmen, it is not bishop, priest, or monk whom
half the time they have in their pates, but slothful canons. Yet I
must see the Revered Father Flavien, and learn if his cough _is_ really
as bad as they say!"
Nivelon secures peace by letting his canons largely alone--to their
great content. Fortunately, the good laymen of Quelqueparte do not
depend entirely upon their spiritual administrations. The "cure of
souls" rests with the parish priests. These are scattered all through
the diocese. Their management takes up a large part of the bishop's
crowded time.
[Illustration: A DEACON (THIRTEENTH CENTURY)
He wears an albe, the dalmatica, the amice, the stole, and the maniple.
From a statue in the cathedral of Chartres.]
[Sidenote: Appointment of Parish Priests]
Every church requires at least one priest in residence to say mass
and afford religious comfort to the laity. If competent bishops
could always have appointed this clergy, much sorrow would have been
eliminated. Unfortunately, the bishop can only name a fraction.
Practically every noncathedral church has its patron, the heir or
beneficiary of the wealthy personage who once endowed the local
establishment. This patron may be the bishop himself, but often the
honor may be enjoyed by an abbey, or a chapter of canons, or, in a
majority of cases, by some very secular seigneur. Conon will say. "I
hold the patronage of eight churches," just as he will say, "I hold
St. Aliquis castle." The patron is entitled to a share of the tithe
(tax for religious purposes) and other income of the parish, before
turning the remainder over to the officiating priest. He can, in
addition, "present to the living"--that is, name the new curé for
the parish upon every vacancy. The bishop is supposed, indeed, to
confirm the candidate, and should not do so without investigation as
to the other's fitness, but he will hesitate to offend the patron by
refusal to proceed with the ceremony unless the impediment is gross and
patent. The candidate is asked to decline a Latin noun, to conjugate
a simple verb, to chant a few familiar psalms with fair voice--that
is probably about all the test for learning. To make matters worse,
if the candidate fears his own bishop, he can go to another diocese
and probably get a licence from a less exacting prelate. A bishop is
obliged to honor the certificate issued by his equal. He can seldom
then refuse after that to invest the priest with the parish.
The last stage of scandal comes when the patron actually takes money
for presenting a candidate. This is, of course, a terrible crime
against the Church: it is simony--after the fashion of the accursed
Simon Magnus, who was guilty of trying to purchase "the gift of
God with money." Nivelon has just had to induct into a parish an
ill-taught, worldly fellow, the son of a rich peasant, who somehow
persuaded the Viscount of Foretvert that he was fit to have the
spiritual conduct of five hundred Christians. The bishop has heard
ugly rumors about "two hundred deniers," yet for lack of real proof is
helpless. It is feared these scandals are frequent, but many times, if
candidate and seigneur are willing to imperil their souls, what can be
done?
As a rule, however, conscientious patrons name well-reputed lads from
their barony, the sons of thrifty peasants or of petty nobles, who have
been to the school attached to a convent or cathedral, and who have
developed an aptitude for saying masses rather than for plowing or
fighting. The favor is bestowed rather as a reward for faithful service
by the youth's family or to insure the same in the future, than for
any direct money consideration. To be a parish priest is not a very
high honor. After the patron has taken his share of the tithe, and the
bishop another share, the curé is likely to be left with barely enough
income to put him among the better class of peasants.
Yet, after all, he is now caught up into the great body politic of
the Church. The latter will not let him starve. It will give him a
decent old age. It will protect him against those gross cruelties
which seigneurs may inflict on any peasant. It will make him the most
important individual in the average village--often the only person
therein understanding the mysteries of parchments. If he is a worthy
man, his influence as counselor, friend, and arbiter will be almost
boundless. He will receive a personal respect almost equal to that due
to a cavalier. Finally, there is always the chance that he may win some
magnate's favor, and by good luck or merit rise to greater things.
Father Grégoire, Conon's chaplain, although nominally only a poor
priest, is probably more influential in St. Aliquis than Sire Eustace,
the seneschal--Conon sometimes complains good naturedly that he is
more powerful than Conon himself. So then, apart from any desire for
strictly religious leadership, it is no bad thing for a lad of humble
origin to be appointed parish priest.
[Sidenote: Evil and Faithful Priests]
If, however, to receive a parish means not a holy trust, but a sordid
opportunity, what a chance for making the fiends rejoice! Every
jongleur, when he runs out of more legitimate stories, chatters about
godless priests. Charges against the parish clergy are the small
coin of filthy gossip--how they violate their vows of celibacy in
a shameless manner; how they frequent taverns, take part in low
brawls, drink "up to their throats," and lie torpid in the fields; how
they fight with their parishioners; how they sell strong drink like
tapsters; how they play dice, gamble and often cheat their opponents,
etc.
Another set of charges is that if their means admit, they wear armor
like nobles, or dress like foppish laymen, and ride out with hawks or
dogs. More familiar still are the accusations of extreme covetousness;
of the outrageous exaction of fees for administering the sacraments,
even to the dying; of performing shameless marriages for money; of
refusing burial services until they have been bribed; and, in short, of
converting themselves into financial harpies.
All this is undeniable. Yet it must be remembered that the number
of parish clergy is very great, and the proportion of evildoers is
(considering their manner of appointment) no more than might be
expected. Many of the parish priests are true ministers of God who
counsel the simple, persuade the erring, comfort the sorrowing, and
leave the world better than they found it. A few, too, spend their
leisure in genuine pursuit of learning, like that Father Lambert
of Ardes (in Flanders) who is deeply read in old Latin authors
and Christian fathers and who has composed an excellent local
chronicle--worthy to rank with the best produced in the monasteries.
Taken, therefore, at large, despite much dross, the men of the Church
do not cast away their great opportunity. If alms and charity relieve
the wretched, if letters and science have a genuine power, if the world
retains other ideals than those of the tourney, the feud, and the
foray, if villeins are taught that they, too, are men with immortal
souls no less than are the barons, the glory belongs surely not to
the castle, but to the monastery and to the parish. And when a good
churchman dies, especially, of course, if he has been an effective and
benignant bishop, all the region knows its loss. When the late Bishop
of Auxerre departed, it was written, "It would be impossible to tell
how great was the mourning throughout the entire city, and with what
groaning and lamentations sorrow was shown by all who followed his
funeral." While of the great and good Bishop Maurice of Paris, builder
of Notre Dame, it was recorded, when he passed in 1196, that "he was
a vessel of affluence, a fertile olive tree in the house of the Lord.
He shone by his knowledge, his preaching, his many alms, and his good
deeds."
Like every other institution, the Church of the Feudal Age is entitled
to be judged by its best and not by its worst.
FOOTNOTES:
[120] _One third_ of the real estate of Germany was alleged to
have belonged to the church. Of course, much of this belonged to
monasteries, to the endowments of canons (cathedral clergy), or of the
parish priests, etc., but the bishops assuredly enjoyed or at least
controlled the lion's share.
[121] In the case of heretics, the Church did not execute the offenders
by its own officers. It merely "relaxed" them to secular officials,
who at once put the old civil laws against misbelievers in force. Of
course, the Church could not secure the immunity of traitors and great
criminals, yet even those were usually treated more tenderly if they
could claim ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
[122] One could go on multiplying such cases. For example, Maurice of
Sully, who was bishop of Paris under Philip Augustus, was the son of
a poor peasant. He managed his diocese admirably and bequeathed not
merely considerable wealth to his relatives, but large properties to
two abbeys and also funds for poor relief.
[123] The question of the technical relations at this time of both
Papacy and royalty to the appointment and investiture of French bishops
is one that must be left for more detailed and learned volumes.
[124] Some abbeys would be directly under the bishop and liable to
visitation and discipline by him at any time. Others would be supposed
to be directly under the authority of the Pope (see p. 326) but the
Vatican would often send orders to a competent bishop to investigate
and act on charges against them.
[125] Manasses (a great cleric, chancellor of the chapter of Amiens)
caused himself to be represented on his seal not holding a pious book,
as was usual, but in hunting costume on horseback, a bird on his wrist
and a dog following. He was evidently a worldly noble "who had the
tastes of his class and led a noble's life."
[126] See p. 244.