CHARLEMAGNE (768-814)
The papal theory embodied in the _Donation of Constantine_ was obviously
crammed with seeds of future strife; for the present, however, the
fortunes of the House of Pippin and of the Papacy were bound together in
amity. The constant accession of strength to the former and of prestige
to the latter made them the central figures of European politics. The
new political form to which their union gave birth slowly shaped itself.
In Italy the first step was to get rid of the Lombards. On the death of
the Lombard King, Aistulf, there were two claimants for the throne. One
of the two, Desiderius, secured the Pope's help by the promise of ceding
more cities, and became king. The Pope, writing to Pippin, says: "Now
that Aistulf, that disciple of the devil, that devourer of Christian
blood is dead; and that by your aid and that of the Franks [a
complimentary phrase, for Pippin seems to have done nothing] he is
succeeded by Desiderius, a most gentle and good man, we pray you to urge
him to continue in the right way." But the "most gentle and good"
Desiderius strayed from the right way, and did not cede the promised
cities. So the Pope besought Pippin to use force; but Pippin thought
that he had done enough, and the Pope was obliged to rest content.
Pippin died in 768. One can imagine the consternation at Rome on
Pippin's death to learn that the dowager queen of the Franks was
arranging a marriage between her son Charlemagne and a daughter of
Desiderius, and another marriage between her daughter and a son of
Desiderius. The Pope wrote in terror that the plan was of the devil, and
forbade it under the pains of everlasting damnation; nevertheless,
Charlemagne married the daughter of Desiderius (770).
The Pope's anticipations, however, were not justified; the horrible
union of the House of Pippin with the "unspeakable" Lombards came to an
abrupt end. Charlemagne, probably from personal dislike, put away his
wife, and sent her ignominiously back to her father. Desiderius, angry
at the insult, rushed upon his fate; he not only intrigued in Frankish
affairs against Charlemagne, but he also seized many of the cities given
to the Pope by the _Donation of Pippin_. He invaded the duchy of Rome,
and advanced within fifty miles of the city. This time Charlemagne acted
in conformity with the papal entreaties. He crossed the Alps, routed the
Lombard army, captured Pavia, took Desiderius prisoner and assumed the
title of King of the Lombards (773-774). He went on to Rome, and
solemnly confirmed the _Donation of Pippin_, and also made a further
_Donation_. This latter _Donation_, which led to disputes between the
Papacy and Charlemagne's successors, is a matter of great uncertainty.
Subsequent papal advocates claimed that it embraced two thirds of Italy.
Probably Charlemagne only intended to restore to the Papacy its private
property scattered throughout northern and central Italy, which had been
seized by the Lombards.
Charlemagne, having disposed of the Lombards, continued his conquests;
across the Pyrenees he annexed the Spanish March, in North Germany he
subdued the Saxons and pushed his frontier to the Elbe, to the southeast
he subjugated the country as far as the upper Danube. His monarchy now
included Franks, Celts, Visigoths, Burgundians, Saxons, Lombards,
Romans. How were such widespread territories and such diverse peoples to
be united in permanent union? The far-seeing Papacy, in answer to this
question, propounded the revival of the Roman Empire of the Caesars.
Reasons were numerous. The Frankish monarchy, with its conquests, in
bulk at least was not unworthy to succeed to Imperial Rome. Throughout
this wide territory there was a great network of ligaments; from Gascony
to Bavaria, from Lombardy to Frisia, divine service was celebrated in
the Latin tongue and with the Roman ritual; bishops, priests, monks, and
missionaries acknowledged their dependence upon the Pope and looked to
Rome, with its holy basilicas and apostolic tradition, as the centre of
Christendom. This Christian unity was a constant argument for political
unity. A second argument was the still vigorous Roman tradition. The
idea of nationality was as yet undeveloped; Europe had known no other
political system than common subjection to the Roman Empire, and all
notions of civilization were of a civilization on the Roman pattern.
When the Roman Empire in the West had decayed, the Church had adopted
the Imperial organization and kept remembrance of the old system fresh
in men's minds. The old Empire, moreover, had early lost the notion of
dependence on the city of Rome, for the seat of government had been set
at Constantinople, at Milan, and at Ravenna; and since the days of the
early Caesars, it had not been necessary for an Emperor to be a native
Roman. There was no theoretical difficulty to bar a Frank from the
Imperial throne or forbid the seat of government to a Frankish city. In
fact, nobody could conceive of the Empire as other than Roman, and the
Frankish kingdom could only become an empire by becoming the Roman
Empire.
The Papacy had special reasons for these views. Under the Empire
Christianity had grown up; under the Empire it had obtained power and
dominion, and had become the state religion. The Church might quarrel
with Emperors, but it regarded the Empire--the source of secular law and
order--as its joint tenant in the world. The one represented religious
unity, the other represented civil unity. In addition to these large
arguments, local reasons affected the Papacy. Shortly before the
expulsion of the Lombards from Italy, the lack of a strong government
had been wofully felt. One usurper and then another had been put in St.
Peter's chair in riot and bloodshed. It had become plain as day that the
Papacy of itself, without the support of a potent secular power, was not
able to maintain its dignity, nor even to enforce order in the very city
of Rome. The Papacy could not endure without the Empire. The very
titles which the Frankish kings had gradually received led up to the
Imperial title. Gregory II had called Charles Martel "Patrician," a
vague title of honour held by the Exarchs; Gregory III had offered to
him the titles both of Patrician and of Consul; Stephen II bestowed upon
Pippin the title of Patrician of the Romans; Charlemagne's own titles
were King of the Franks, King of the Lombards, Patrician of the Romans;
and his son had been crowned by the Pope, King of Italy (781). The title
next in order was undoubtedly Emperor of the Romans. Charlemagne himself
was a man of gigantic stature and great strength, indefatigable in
action, and delighting in hunting, swimming, and martial exercise. His
mind also was mighty, restlessly pondering questions of state, of
church, of war, of social improvement. He was the greatest of
Barbarians, cast by Nature in an imperial mould.
On the other hand there was one conspicuous difficulty in the way of
reviving the Roman Empire; this difficulty was that the Roman Empire
still existed, and that there was a living Emperor, the legitimate
successor of Caesar Augustus. But that Empire was virtually Greek, and
the Emperor no more like Caesar Augustus than like Hercules. The city by
the Tiber had as good title to be the Imperial city as her younger rival
by the Bosphorus; the _Roman Republic_ (whatever that ill-defined title
may mean), represented by the Pope, had as fair a claim to elect the
Emperor, as the army and office-holders at Constantinople. In fact, to
Papal and Roman eyes, the rights of Rome were much greater than those of
Constantinople.
To us, as we look back, nothing seems more natural than that the great
Frankish king, after the conquest of Italy, should have brushed aside
the theoretical difficulty of an existing Roman Empire and assumed the
Imperial title, Emperor of the Romans. History moves more slowly.
Charlemagne was a Frank, accustomed to Frankish usages and ideas; he
hesitated to adopt formally a wholly different conception of sovereignty
and society. His nobles probably agreed with the advice given by Pope
Zacharias to Pippin, that the man who held the power should receive the
corresponding title, but being Franks they thought the dignity of
Frankish king sufficient. So matters stood with nothing between
Charlemagne and the Imperial crown but a theoretic difficulty, and a
certain reluctance. Unexpectedly and in quick succession, events in
Constantinople swept away the theoretic difficulty, and events in Rome
gave the Pope sufficient energy to overcome the reluctance.
At Constantinople, the dowager Empress blinded and deposed her son the
Emperor (797), and assumed to rule as sole _Augusta_. This wickedness,
and the ancient doctrine that, though a woman might lawfully share the
Imperial throne, she might not reign alone, combined to render plausible
a theory readily adopted in the West, that the Imperial throne had
become vacant. The event in Rome was this. A savage gang of nobles and
ecclesiasts attacked Pope Leo III in the street, beat him, half-blinded
him, cut his tongue, and imprisoned him in a monastery (799). He escaped
and fled to Charlemagne in Germany. His enemies followed and charged him
with various crimes. Charlemagne sent him back to Rome in the company
of some great nobles, who were commissioned to investigate the charges,
and went himself also. There, in St. Peter's basilica, in the presence
of Frankish nobles and Roman ecclesiasts, with Charlemagne presiding,
the Pope took a solemn oath of innocence (December 4, 800). Such an oath
according to the jurisprudence of the time was necessarily followed by
acquittal; and the Pope's innocence necessarily proved the guilt of his
accusers, who were punished.
Such crimes, east and west, were insufferable. Something had to be done.
Everybody looked to Charlemagne. His position as head of Christendom was
acknowledged even beyond the bounds of western Europe. The Patriarch of
Jerusalem, a subject of the Caliph Haroun al Raschid, sent to
Charlemagne the keys of Calvary and of the Holy Sepulchre and the banner
of the Holy City. Obviously it was time for the Imperial dignity to be
added to Imperial power.
On Christmas day in the year 800, Charlemagne and a great procession of
Frankish nobles and Roman citizens made their way through the streets of
Rome towards the basilica of St. Peter's, whose gilt bronze roof, taken
from a pagan temple, shone conspicuous on the Vatican hill. They walked
through the Aurelian gate and across the bridge over the Tiber, then
turning to the left, followed the colonnade which extended all the way
from Hadrian's Mausoleum to the atrium of the basilica. There they
mounted the broad flight of marble steps, at the top of which the Pope
and his court awaited the king. Then Pope and king, followed by the
procession, crossed the great atrium paved with white marble, past the
fir-cone fountain and papal tombs, to the central door of the basilica,
which swung its thousand-weight of silver open wide; then, up the long
nave, screened by rows of antique columns from double aisles on either
side, all rich with tapestries of purple and gold, they proceeded with
slow and solemn steps to the tomb of the apostle. Thirteen hundred and
seventy candles in the great candelabrum glowed on the silver floor of
the shrine, and glittered on the gold and silver statues around it. In
the great apse behind the high altar sat the clergy, row upon row,
beneath the Pontiff's throne; above, the Byzantine mosaics looked down
in sad severity. Here Charlemagne knelt at the tomb, and prayed. As he
rose from his knees, the Pope lifted an Imperial crown of gold and
placed it on his head, while all the congregation shouted, "Life and
Victory to Charles, Augustus, crowned by God, the great and peaceful
Emperor!"
Thus was accomplished that restoration of the Roman Empire, which by its
attempt to combine Teuton and Roman in political union so powerfully
affected the history of mediaeval Europe. Charlemagne is reported to have
said that the Imperial coronation took him by surprise. However that may
be, this great enterprise of a Christian Empire must be regarded, in its
final completion, as the joint work of Frankish king and Roman Pope.