tolerated, there have been several, and some very opportune, cases in
which a pope on the point of death has recommended a particular person,
more or less efficaciously, to the body of electors as one well fitted
to succeed to the vacant throne. This was done by St. Gregory VII., who
proposed three candidates to the cardinals—namely, Desiderius,
Cardinal-Abbot of Monte Casino; Otho, Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia; and
Hugh, Archbishop of Lyons—and particularly recommended the election of
the first as the only one of the three who was in Italy at the time.
Desiderius became Pope Victor III. Other similar, but not always
equally successful, recommendations were made by popes of that era. In
order finally to put the strongest official check upon the election of
his own successor by a pope, Pius IV., after exposing in consistory his
age and infirmities, reminded the cardinals that he was well aware how
under his predecessor, Paul IV., the question was mooted whether this
could be done, and that some theologians and cardinals held to the
affirmative,[137] but that he would pronounce in the negative, and
intended to issue a bull—as in fact he did, on the 22d of September,
1561[138]—declaring that no pope could do so, even with the consent of
the Sacred College. His immediate predecessor had reaffirmed in 1558 an
ordinance increasing the penalties of its violation, which had
originally been passed over a thousand years before by Pope Symmachus
in a council of seventy-two bishops convened at Rome in the year 499,
forbidding, under pain of excommunication and loss of all dignities, to
treat of a successor during the lifetime of the reigning pontiff.[139]
From this we learn how some of the best and greatest popes have tried
to frame such wise provisions as might assure an untainted election to
the Papacy; yet they could not succeed in every case, because even the
most stringent laws must be well executed to be effective, and must
find docile subjects to obey them. The Romans do certainly appear to
have been a stiff-necked people during many generations; and while we
think it ungenerous continually to throw in their teeth the wretched
opinion St. Bernard must have had of them, as we see by his treatise
_De Consideratione_, addressed to Pope Eugene III., and hardly fair in
the annalist Muratori to transfer so much of the blame for factious
elections from the German emperors to the Roman populace, the least
that even their best friend can honestly say is _that they might have
done better_.[140]
The election of the pope, says Cardinal Borgia,[141] was perfectly free
during the first four centuries, being made by the clergy in presence
of the people; but in process of time, as the papal dignity increased
in wealth and splendor of temporal authority, it often became an object
of human ambition, of which secular rulers were not slow to avail
themselves, that by iniquitous bargains and preconcerted plans they
might bind, if possible, the priesthood to the empire, and derive the
immense advantage of the spiritual power administered by a subject or a
dependant. The first instance of direct interference by the state in a
papal election—for the decision in the case of Boniface and the
anti-pope was an arbitration invited by the church—appears towards the
close of the fifth century. Odoacer, a Gothic chief of the tribe of the
Heruli, having deposed Romulus Augustulus, in whom the Western Empire
came to an end, was proclaimed King of Italy, rejecting the imperial
style of Cæsar and Augustus for a title which he expressly created for
himself. It would seem—although even this is not beyond dispute—that
Pope Simplicius had requested Odoacer, in whom the powers of the state
were now vested, to stand ready, in the common interests of order and
good government, to repress the civil commotions which he foresaw were
likely to arise after his death on the election of a successor. However
this may be, the king went beyond a merely repressive measure, and,
pretending that Simplicius had commissioned him to do so, published an
edict on the pope’s death in 483, forbidding the clergy and people of
Rome to elect a successor without his intervention or that of his
lieutenant, the prefect of the prætorium. When, therefore, the elective
assembly met in St. Peter’s to fill the vacant see, Basil the patrician
came forward and claimed in his master’s name, and by virtue of the
dying wish and even command of Simplicius, the right of regulating its
acts and of confirming the election it might make. This pretension was
firmly repelled, and, disregarding the tyrant, Felix III. was elected
on March 8, 483. Baronius is of opinion that Simplicius never addressed
such a requisition to the king, but that the story of his having done
so was fabricated a few years later by the party of Lawrence, the
anti-pope. The document purporting to emanate from Simplicius was
rejected by a Roman council in 502 without further investigating its
genuineness, than by exposing that it lacked the pope’s signature, and
was in any case opposed to the sacred canons and _ipso facto_ null and
void.[142] On November 22, 498, St. Symmachus was elected pope, but a
minority set up a certain Lawrence, and both were consecrated on the
same day. Civil strife was imminent, and, although the most regular
mode of action would have been to call a council of the provincial
bishops, delay was too dangerous, and the prompt interference of
Theodoric was asked and submitted to.
Although this monarch was an Arian, he had protected the Catholics on
many occasions, and had for prime minister the celebrated Cassiodorus,
whose virtues, justice, and wisdom were renowned throughout Italy. Such
considerations as these must have led the Roman clergy to submit a
purely ecclesiastical matter to the court of Ravenna. On the advice of
his minister the king decided that the one who had been first elected
and had received the greatest number of votes should be recognized as
the legitimate pope. Both conditions were verified in Symmachus. His
first pontifical act was to summon a council in the basilica of St.
Peter on March 1, 499, to regulate more effectively the mode of future
elections. Seventy-two bishops, sixty-seven priests, and five deacons
composed the council. Three canons were drawn up relative to this
matter. By the first it was ordained that if any clergyman be convicted
of having given or promised his suffrage for the pontificate to any
aspirant during the pope’s lifetime he shall be deposed from his
office; by the second it was provided that if the pope die suddenly,
and a unanimous election cannot be reached, the candidate receiving a
majority of the votes shall be declared elected; by the third immunity
from prosecution was promised to accomplices who should reveal the
intrigues of their principals to obtain an unfair election.[143]
Theodoric the Goth, having once been appealed to, now thought to take
the initiative in the election of a successor to John I., whom he had
left to die of starvation and neglect on his return from
Constantinople, where he had spoken rather according to his conscience
than in favor of the Arians, as the king expected. On his
recommendation St. Felix IV. was elected pope on the 12th of July, 526.
The Roman clergy and senate protested against this stretch of royal
authority, although they had no objection to the nominee, who was
simple, mild, and charitable. The affair was not adjusted until a
compromise was effected under Athalaric, whereby the Roman clergy by
their votes, and the Roman people by their assent, were to elect the
Roman pontiff, who would then be confirmed by the king as a matter of
course. The popes were elected in this way until the extinction of the
Gothic kingdom of Italy in the person of Teias, who was defeated and
killed by Narses, general of Justinian, in the year 553. The Greek
emperor, having recovered his sway in Italy, continued the abuse, to
which the Romans had submitted only through fear of the barbarians, and
arrogated to himself and successors the right of confirming the
election of the pope. Hence, as Baronius remarks, arose the prudent
custom at Rome of electing to the Papacy those members of the clergy
who had been _Apocrisiarii_—_i.e._, agents or _nuncios_ of the Holy See
at Constantinople, where it was presumed they had won the favor of the
court and become versed in matters of state. Thus the right of
confirmation was reduced in practice to a mere formality, although in
principle ever so wrong. In this way were elected Vigilius in 550, St.
Gregory I. in 590, Sabinian in 604, Boniface III. in 607, and others
who were personally known to the Byzantine rulers.
Avarice, or a love of money under some pretext or another, was a
besetting sin of the Greeks, and from it arose a new and more degrading
condition imposed on papal elections. The imperial sanction was given
only on payment by the Holy See of a tax of 3,000 golden _solidi_, a
sum equal to thirteen thousand dollars of our money.[144] The Emperor
Constantine Pogonatus, at the request of the papal legates to the
Fourth General Council of Constantinople in 681, exempted the Holy See
from the further payment of the tax. He was moved to do so by the
sanctity of St. Agatho; but he still retained the assumed right of
forbidding the pope’s consecration until his election had been
confirmed. A few years later, however, he granted a constitution to
Benedict II., his personal friend, and to whose guardianship he left
his two sons, Justinian (II.) and Heraclius, in which he for ever
abrogated this arbitrary law. The concession was ungratefully revoked
by Justinian; and Conon, who was elected on October 21, 686, was
obliged to ask the consent of the exarch of Ravenna, viceroy of the
emperor, to his consecration. This necessity generally occasioned a
delay of from six weeks to two months. The exarchs of Ravenna, having
command of the troops and the key to the imperial treasury in the west,
felt themselves in a position to abuse authority and try to set up
creatures of their own in Rome. Often did the Roman clergy and many
popes protest against their irregular acts. The choice of Pelagius II.,
in 578, was not submitted to the customary ratification, because the
Lombards around Rome had cut off all communication with the outer
world.
The historian Novaes says that although the Holy See resisted the
interference of secular princes, yet the turbulent spirit of the
Romans, often stirred up by unscrupulous ministers or by the sovereigns
themselves, obliged the popes to have recourse to these same princes to
maintain order at their consecration. Nothing, we think, better
confirms the necessity of a temporal dominion whereby the popes can
exclude the exercise of foreign influence in Rome, and themselves
vindicate the character of good government for which they are
responsible. Papal elections were of an absolutely peaceful nature only
after Goths, Lombards, Greeks, and Germans ceased to support an armed
force in Rome or its vicinity. Guarantees are deceitful; and a mere
personal sovereignty of the pope without a territory attached would be
insufficient to assure the independence of the Holy See.
A very remarkable law found its way into Gratian’s decree, under the
name of Pope Stephen, by which it is ordained that the newly-elected
pontiff shall be consecrated in presence of the imperial
ambassadors.[145] The learned are divided in their opinion about which
pope passed this law. Baronius, Papebroch, Natalis Alexander, and
others attribute it to Stephen IV., elected in 816; Pagi inclines to
Stephen VI., _alias_ VII.; Mansi to Deusdedit, elected in 615; while
some think that it belongs to John IX., because it is found among the
acts of a council held by him in 898. Novaes suggests that this council
may only have given a more solemn sanction to an older law. When Eugene
II. was elected on the 5th of June, 824, he concerted with Lothair, son
of the Emperor Louis, who had named him King of Italy and his colleague
in the empire, to put a stop to cabals and disorders among the Roman
people. He issued a decree enjoining upon the Roman clergy to swear
fealty to the Frankish emperors, but with this significant reservation:
“saving the faith that I have pledged to the successor of St.
Peter”—_Salva fide quam repromisi Domino Apostolico_[146]—and not to
consent to an uncanonical or factious election of a pope. The same pope
also voluntarily offered to bind the Roman pontiffs to be consecrated
in the presence of the so-called _Rex Romanorum_, if he were in the
city, otherwise of his envoy.[147] Pagi thinks that this was done to
propitiate in advance these growing monarchs of the north, and distract
them from the idea of continuing the policy of the Eastern emperors,
who, as we have seen, would not allow the popes to proceed to
consecration until their election had been confirmed. Eugene’s act
seems to us to have been a subtle stroke of diplomacy. While it
flattered, by conveying the impression that the presence of Cæsar (as
he was pompously called) or of his legates gave splendor and
magnificence to the ceremony of consecration, it disarmed the emperor
by implying the right of the popes to be consecrated at their own
convenience; for if his meaning had been that the presence of the king
or of his ambassadors were a necessary condition to the legality of the
act, he would have deliberately placed himself and successors in the
same relation to these new rulers that his predecessors had been
obliged, though under protest, to assume toward the emperors of the
East—which is manifestly absurd.
Nevertheless, both the Frank and Saxon emperors frequently claimed the
right to something more than a mere honorary part in papal elections,
which led to long years of party strife and discord between church and
state. Leo IV., in 847, confirmed the decree of Eugene, although, on
account of the Saracens around Rome, he was consecrated without waiting
for the imperial ambassadors; and the same was the case, but without
any ostensible reason, with Stephen V., _alias_ VI. This shows that the
presence of the envoys was an honorary privilege, which conferred no
authority to go back of or revise the election itself, as Hadrian III.,
Stephen’s immediate predecessor, expressly affirmed in a decree given
by Martinus Polonus,[148] Mabillon,[149] and Pagi.[150]
It is but fair to confess that this decree is not considered authentic
by all; but what historical document has not been called in question by
some hypercritic or other, especially in Germany? That it is not
apocryphal is shown by the fact that one of Hadrian’s successors—John
IX., elected in 898—annulled it in view of the peace ensured by the
presence of the ambassadors, and restored the earlier ordinance of
Eugene.
The text of the canon law, and especially the passage _Canonico ritu et
consuetudine_, has been often appealed to by Cæsarists and Protestant
historians, as though it demonstrated that a papal election not made
according to its requirements was uncanonical and invalid. In the first
place, Cardinal Garampi[151] remarks that Eugene’s decree was a
personal privilege _Advocatiæ_ given to the princes of the Carlovingian
line; and in the second place Thomassin observes upon John’s
decree[152] that the imperial ambassadors were not admitted to the
election, but only to the subsequent consecration; that they were there
to overawe the turbulent; and that in time their presence became a
custom and was looked on as a part, so to speak, of the external rite
of consecration. It had, besides, become so useful as a repressive
measure against the enemies of the Holy See that it received the high
sanction of being countenanced by the canon law itself. Pope Nicholas
II., in the eleventh century, explained the text _Quia Sancta_ in the
same sense. It must be said, to the discredit of the Othos and the
Henrys, that they too often slipped from the _inch_ of privilege to the
_ell_ of (pretended) right, and went so far as to interfere in a direct
and absolute sense at papal elections, intruding some less worthy
subjects into the Papacy; but when once these occupied the seat of
Peter they were to be recognized and respected on the same principle
that the high-priests were in the irregular age of the Seleucidæ and
the Romans when they sat upon the chair of Moses. Yet even the imperial
influence, says Kenrick,[153] was beneficially exercised in several
instances, particularly those of Clement II. and St. Leo IX. Dr.
Constantine Höfler has written a work[154] replete with information
about the German popes and the physical aspect, the morals, manners,
and customs of the Romans in their time. Charles Hemans’ books (we
cannot seriously call them works) on _Ancient and Mediæval Christianity
and Sacred Art in Italy_, while they show considerable acquaintance
with the best authorities on the subject, manifest a detestable animus
against the Holy See, which shows their writer to be as great an adept
in the “art of putting things” as the far more learned author of the
eight-volume _History of the City of Rome in the Middle Ages_,
Ferdinand Gregorovius. While the corruption of some popes and the
depravity of the tenth century have been exaggerated by many
historians, the condition of the Papacy at that time is certainly a
warning against the interference of secular princes in the elections;
for, as the great Baronius remarks (ad an. 900), _Nihil penitus
Ecclesiæ Romanæ contingere potest funestius, tetrius nihil atque
lugubrius, quam si principes seculares in Romanorum Pontificum
electiones manus immittant._[155]
In the middle of the eleventh century a movement was begun to reform
the method of conducting papal elections, which eventually limited them
within the legitimate circle of ecclesiastical prerogatives, totally
excluding the direct influence of the inferior clergy and the
aristocratic and popular element of the laity. Pope Nicholas II.,
having assembled a synod of one hundred and thirteen bishops in the
Lateran Palace in the month of April, 1059, passed a law to the
following effect: On the death of the pope the cardinal-bishops shall
first meet in council and with the utmost diligence treat of a
successor; they shall next take joint action with the cardinal-priests,
and finally consider the wishes of the rest of the clergy and of the
Roman people. If a worthy subject can be found among the members of the
Roman (higher) clergy itself, he is to be preferred, otherwise a
foreigner shall be elected; so that, however, the honor and regard due
to our beloved son Henry, now king, and soon, God grant, to be emperor,
which we have seen proper to show to him and to his successors who may
personally apply for it, be not diminished. If a proper election cannot
take place in Rome, it may be held anywhere else.[156] In the year 1061
another synod was held, in which it was distinctly stated that the mere
fact of election in the foregoing manner placed the elect in possession
of plenary apostolic authority; consequently, the emperor’s
confirmation was excluded, in the sense that without it the election
was invalid. From this period, although the struggle was not yet over,
the Papacy was completely emancipated from any kind of subjection to
the empire. Alexander II., successor to Nicholas, did not communicate
his election to the court; and although St. Gregory VII., glorious
Hildebrand, did do so, it was partly from prudence in view of the
excitement in Germany occasioned by the setting up of the anti-pope
Cadolaus in resentment for his predecessor’s neglect, and partly from
his sense of honor, lest it should be thought (since he had taken a
principal part in enacting the statute of Pope Nicholas) that he
availed himself of an advantage which he had himself created—artfully,
as suspicious-minded persons might think—in anticipation of one day
ascending the papal chair. He was the last pope who ever informed the
emperor of his election before proceeding to be consecrated and
enthroned. The great Catholic powers still continue to exercise a
measure of influence in these elections, but of a purely advisory
character, except in the case of those few which enjoy the privilege of
veto, or the _esclusiva_, as the Romans say. At the Third General
Council of the Lateran, held in the year 1179 by Alexander III., a most
important advance was made in the manner of holding the elections. The
right of the cardinals to elect, without reference to the rest of the
Roman clergy or of the people, was affirmed, and a majority of
two-thirds of their votes required for a valid election. This law was
readily approved by the bishops and members of the council, and
incorporated in the canon law, where it is found among the decretals of
Gregory IX.[157]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
HOW STEENWYKERWOLD WAS SAVED.
I.
A few straggling lights gleamed pale and fitfully through the stormy
mist as the travellers came to the foot of the principal street in
Steenwykerwold on the night of December 23, 1831. The wind howled
fiercely and the place was apparently deserted; no one was found to
brave the force of the sleety tempest save Floog and his companion, and
the weather-beaten, broken-nosed “Admiral” that once did duty as
figure-head for a Baltic trader of that name, and now stood sentinel at
the door of Mathias Pilzer, the innkeeper, scowling defiance at the
elements. The hail had drifted and accumulated in heaps against
outlying angles of walls, and filled the narrow gutters. The progress
of the travellers, which the storm had impeded, was now interrupted
altogether and they came to a dead halt. The prospect was indeed
discouraging, and the cheerless gloom of the situation seemed to enter
into the soul of the boy; for he made a sudden movement towards a
street doorway which afforded a little shelter, and, pulling his
woollen cap tightly down over his eyes, began to cry.
“Ferret,” said his companion, “if you don’t stop that blubbering I’ll
take you back again to-morrow to paint dolls at Mme. Gemmel’s; and
see,” he added somewhat more soothingly, as he caught the flicker of a
candle through Pilzer’s window, “here we are at the inn.”
The Ferret, thus threatened and consoled, brushed away his tears with
his sleeve, emitting a muffled grunt. He had commenced with a howl,
but, as if finding the pitch too high, he lowered it suddenly and ended
with a sort of guttural, fractured sob; then seizing the other by the
skirt, in this order of procession they reached Pilzer’s.
Boreas, Euroclydon, Eolus! whew, you gusty deities, your rude
familiarities are the reverse of endearing, and we, alas! have not
discovered the secret of propitiating you. Yet you deepen the enchanted
halo encircling the ruddy fireside by the very force of contrast, as
you wail dismally at the door, rattle the window-pane, or shriek down
the chimney in your baffled efforts to effect an entrance.
The fatigue of their journey was soon forgotten by the wayfarers, their
misery giving way to the placid emotions caused by an anticipated
enjoyment of the warmth and well-earned repose so near at hand.
There was much to study in these two, _because_ there was so little to
discover. The elder was a man whose appearance guarded with sphinx-like
obstinacy the secret of his age. He might be thirty or he might be
sixty—no one could tell, and it was abundantly evident that few cared.
He was tall and spare, with features which, if remarkable at all, were
rendered negatively so by the absence of all salient characteristics,
except a certain peculiarity about the eyes, one of which was brown,
and the other, the left, a weak, watery gray. Such was Floog, the only
name by which he was known; if he ever had any other it is buried with
him.