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PART IV
HISTORICAL OUTLINE
800-1190
The political history of Italy during the four centuries on which we are now entering divides itself into three periods.
First we have (800-962) the Carolingian Emperors and the so-called Italian kings, some of whom were crowned as ‘Emperors’;
then we have, in 962, what we may regard as a new construction--that of the so-called holy Roman Empire--reared on the foundations
of the ancient Empire by Saxon and Franconian monarchs; then (1125-90) a period that covers the reigns of the two Hohenstaufen
Fredericks and ends with the rise of the Italian republics and the fusion of the Norman and German monarchies. The first of
these periods is, after the death of Charles the Great in 814, a dreary tract. The chronicle of these pious, gross, or imbecile
Carolingian Emperors and the scarcely less uninteresting or contemptible ‘Italian’ rulers present a most perplexing
and wearisome maze of political and dynastic complications, of fightings of son against father, of brother against brother,
of miserable wars and tumults and bloodshed and malice and superstition and treachery and vice. Doubtless, if we knew more
about the real history of Italy during this period--the history of the real Italian people, their thoughts and feelings and
ways of life, their language, their literature, and their art; if we could trace more clearly the early growth of the Italian
republics, their trade and their passionate love of liberty and municipal independence; if we could observe more closely the
gradual self-assertion, in the face of arrogant military and ecclesiastical castes, of the nobility of work and
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of manhood, by which feudalism was finally driven out of its strongholds; it we could learn more of the great and good
men and women whose individuality is buried under the mouldy chronicles of Popes and Emperors, those of us who are not merely
antiquarians or political historians would find the period interesting enough. But its chroniclers give us little except a
record of all that is vilest and most despicable in human nature, as exemplified in the persons of foreign over-lords and
of rival claimants of kingly and imperial titles, or as exhibited at the courts of crafty, dissolute, and ambitious pontiffs
of the Roman Church.
Across the desolate and malarious expanse I shall hasten and shall give only a kind of rough chart of the astounding labyrinth
of events that compose its political and ecclesiastical history; but I shall indulge in somewhat fuller detail when we reach
the days of the Normans and the momentous epochs of Otto the Great and Frederick Barbarossa. The lists of Emperors, Kings,
and Popes, and the genealogical tables, will supply a clue for the disentanglement of dynastic relationships and other such
complications, so that it will be possible to take much for granted when treating, in later chapters, such subjects as the
rise of the Communes and the development of Romanesque architecture.
(1) THE CAROLINGIANS (800-888)
The narrative of historical events given in Part III left off with the coronation of Charles at Rome on Christmas Days
of the year 800. As Emperor he reigned for thirteen years and one month, dying on January 28, 814. Some of his characteristics
have been already mentioned; in a later chapter more will be said about his personality, his influence, and his methods of
government; the following facts will therefore suffice for our present purpose.
The vast extent of the new Empire and the great diversity of the many nations that were included within it, held together
without cohesion by external pressure, foredoomed it to speedy dissolution. Charles was a great leader and a great soldier,
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but not a great Empire-builder--un grandissimo condottiero, as Villari says, senza un vero genio organizzatore.
Moreover, the German hereditary system, under which the monarch was regarded as the personal owner of the realm and generally
divided his dominions among several heirs--a system which had proved so fatal to the older Frank kingdom--was adopted by Charles,
fondly hoping by this means to prevent his sons from quarrelling. His children, legitimate and illegitimate, had been no less
than fifteen in number, but he regarded the three sons of his wife Hildegard, namely Charles, Pipin (formerly Carlmann), and
Louis, as his heirs, and by a formal testament drawn up in 806 he had apportioned France (i.e. Austrasia and Neustria), Italy,
and Aquitaine to these three respectively. But Pipin, as we have seen, died at Milan (1) after his unsuccessful siege of Venice
in 810, and his brother Charles died in the following year. Thus the contemplated division of the Empire, after all, did not
take place, and the weak and superstitious Louis, named ‘the Pious,’ or ‘the Good-tempered’ (le Dbonnaire),
was formally crowned as co-Emperor by his father at Aachen (2) and in the following year succeeded as sole heir to the imperial
throne.
Louis the Pious soon showed his character by entreating the new Pope, Stephen IV, to come all the way to Reims to re-crown
him. Now this Pope, like several other Popes, had not troubled himself about obtaining for his own consecration the imperial
sanction on which Charles the Great had so strongly insisted; but in spite of this the new Emperor not only regarded himself
as still uncrowned without the papal unction, but prostrated himself thrice before the Pontiff on his arrival at Reims--a
fact well worth remembering in view of the
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future strife on the subject of Investiture. Moreover, when on Stephen’s death Pope Paschal was hurriedly consecrated
before the imperial sanction had time to arrive, Louis not only once more ignored the affront, but graciously granted a Donation
similar to that granted by Pipin, confirming (if the document be genuine) all former territorial gifts and conferring on the
Church sovran authority over vast territories as well as entire freedom from imperial interference in regard to papal elections.
Somewhat curiously, these pious concessions were ere long followed by what seems an act of impiety towards the Supreme Father
in God, for Louis, imitating his father according to the flesh, with his own hands placed the imperial crown on his son Lothair’s
head in the cathedral at Aachen, and assigned to his two younger sons, Pipin and Louis (the German), Aquitaine and Bavaria--apparently
without troubling himself in the least about the question of papal unction.
Although Lothair was thus co-Emperor with his father, he had as Emperor (so empty (3) had the title become) nothing to
do as yet with Rome or Italy. His youthful cousin, the illegitimate son of Pipin, Bernard by name, had been made King of Italy,
for which title he was obliged to do homage. But, resenting such vassalage, the young prince rebelled. Hereupon he was speedily
overmastered, and so cruelly blinded by his pious uncle Louis that he died.
Lothair was then made King of Italy in his stead, and accepted the invitation of Pope Paschal that he should have his imperial
title confirmed at Rome by the imposition of the papal hands. But how little he was inclined to allow the papal claims to
sovranty, or even to judiciary power in Rome itself, is proved by the fact that he set up there his imperial tribunal and
as supreme judge decided a case against Pope Paschal. This determined step, to which Lothair was guided rather by
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the example of his grandfather than by the influence of his weak and bigoted father, was undoubtedly in the right direction,
and had it been followed up vigorously by himself and his successors might have prevented the miseries that for centuries
were caused by the lust of the Papacy for temporal power. (4) As it happened, the co-Emperor was not strong enough to beard
the Pope in his own den. As soon as he (Lothair) left Rome some of Paschal’s adversaries were arrested and put to death,
probably by papal orders--and when envoys arrived from the indignant Emperor to inquire into the matter the crafty pontiff
foiled them by a well-known ruse and solemnly asserted before a public assembly in the Lateran his entire innocence, at the
same time stating boldly that his enemies had perished as traitors (velut majestatis reos).
Thus Lothair’s well-meant attempt merely resulted in permanently dividing the Roman people into the two factions
whose hostility was later marshalled under the names of Guelf and Ghibelline. So bitter already was this hostility that when
Pope Paschal died it proved impossible to bury him in St. Peter’s, and the tumults at the election of his successor
were so furious that once more Lothair was sent by his father to restore peace. On this occasion (824) he published a Constitutio
which ordered the residence in Rome of an imperial envoy (missus) and made the imperial sanction necessary before the
consecration of a Pope.
Ermengard, the wife of Louis the Pious, had died in 818, and Louis had been with difficulty dissuaded from retiring to
a monastery; but ere long he married again and soon stood helpless under the fascinations of his second wife, the Bavarian
princess Judith; and when in course of time her young son, afterwards Charles the Bald, seemed likely to out-rival in princely
prospects his elder brothers and to contest
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their birthrights, a disastrous family feud was the result. The three elder sons, Lothair, Pipin, and Louis the German,
combined and succeeded in putting their stepmother into prison; they also nearly forced their father into a monastery. But
the people interfered; the queen was liberated, and the weak old king was reinstated. He died however shortly afterwards (840)
and straightway the three brothers (for Pipin was dead) turned their weapons against each other, until at Verdun they made
an agreement by which Charles the Bald retained France, Louis Germany, and Lothair Italy together with a belt of country dividing
France from Germany and extending from the mouth of the Rhine to that of the Rhone. This curious strip of dominion, with its
two capitals of Aachen and Arles, he named Lotharingia, and a part of it still retains the name (Lothringen, Lorraine).
Let us now leave the dynastic squabbles of these Carolingians and turn our attention more closely to what was going on
in Italy itself during Lothair’s reign. In the north of the peninsula, although various cities, of which Venice was
the most conspicuous, had gained a large measure of independence, the Frank monarch who called himself ‘King of Italy’
was a real ruler. In Rome, too, as we have seen, he succeeded to some extent in upholding against the Papacy his imperial
rights. But in the south and centre this same self-styled ‘Rex Longobardorum’ had only a shadow of authority over
the Lombard duchy of Spoleto and not even this over the duchy of Benevento. (5)
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Besides, there were not a few of the southern cities, such as Salerno and Capua, which not only refused to recognize the
Frankish supremacy, but were asserting their independence against their Lombard over-lords, or which, like Naples and Amalfi,
were shaking off Byzantine domination and acquiring autonomy.
As had been the case with the Lombards, the incompleteness of the Frank conquest precluded all possibility of the unification
of Italy. Her disunion, though immeasurable less of a misfortune than would have been her absorption in the Germanic race,
had the disadvantage of exposing her to foreign invaders, as it has ever exposed her until our own days; and no small part
in the present act of our drama is played once more by invaders--invaders very different from the Arian Goths and Vandals,
or the Catholic Franks, or even the heathen Huns. The Mohammedans or ‘Saracens’ of Arabia and North Africa, of
whom we have already heard, had spread their conquests with consternating rapidity over the whole of the southern and eastern
shores of the Mediterranean, had mastered most of Spain, and would have mastered all Western Europe but for the crushing defeat
inflicted on them at Tours by Charles Martel in 732. During the next century they constantly infested the coasts of Sicily,
Sardinia, and South Italy, committing the most audacious acts of piracy and devastation, sometimes in alliance with Christian
cities that called on them for aid against their Christian adversaries. In 827 a Byzantine general, Euphemius by name, having
incited an unsuccessful insurrection in Sicily, fled to Africa and there persuaded the Saracens to send across a fleet of
100 vessels with some 10,000 fighters to occupy Sicily. Ill-fortune attended them at first; defeats and pestilence decimated
them; but large reinforcements were sent, and after a long and terrible investment they captured Palermo--whose population,
it is said, was reduced in course of the siege from 70,000 to 3000. From Sicily the Saracens then began to make bold descents
on the coastlands of Southern Italy, and their audacity was encouraged by the treasonable collusion of various Italian cities,
amongst which
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Naples seems to have won special infamy by actually helping the Moslems to capture Messina.
To protect Rome itself against these Moslems Pope Gregory IV (in the reign of Lothair) thought it necessary to build a
new town (6) at Ostia and to fortify it very strongly, placing powerful ballistae on the ramparts. But the Saracens
nevertheless forced their way up the Tiber (846) and sacked the country up to the walls of the city, plundering and desecrating
the two great extra-mural basilicas of St. Paul and St. Peter. The Anglo-Saxons, Franks, and other strangers who had their
‘colonies’ in the Borgo, were overcome, and a desperate fight took place on the Vatican bridge; but finally the
infidels were repulsed by the Romans with the help of Lombard troops from Spoleto. The alarm caused by this audacious exploit
determined Lothair and the Pope, the energetic and martial Leo IV, to enclose the Borgo (7) with walls, and this quarter was
henceforth known as the Leonine City (Citt Leonina).
While these new walls were rising (that is to say in 849) there took place a very important naval battle off Ostia--a battle
as momentous perhaps as that of Salamis or Chlons or Tours. The Neapolitans, who had found reason to repent of their alliance
with the Moslems, wiped off their disgrace by boldly attacking a powerful Saracen fleet that was threatening Ostia, and aided
by a storm, which wrecked many of the enemy’s vessels, they took an immense number of captives, many of whom were forced
to work at building the walls of the Leonine City. A splendidly conceived but rather
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blood-curdling fresco designed by Raffael and executed by Giov. da Udine represents Leo IV (or rather Leo X !) at Ostia,
blessing with uplifted hand the massacre of Saracen captives. We must, however, try to remember that the scene is not historically
correct, for Leo is said to have held a supplicatory service in S. Aurea, the Ostian Basilica, the day before the battle
and to have returned at once to Rome.
[Before leaving the subject of the Saracens it may be well to glance forward and note that for many years they continued
to hold Sicily and to harry Southern Italy. They made Bari their chief stronghold and devastated the whole of Apulia, Calabria,
and even Campania right up to the gates of Salerno. In 888 they destroyed the great Benedictine abbey of Monte Cassino, as
has been related n a former chapter. From time to time they were severely punished. Louis II actually captured Bari and made
prisoner the Saracen ‘Sultan.’ The so-called Emperor Guido (c. 890) cut them to pieces and razed a strong military
camp that they had built on the Garigliano (Liris), and when this camp was rebuilt it was again utterly destroyed by the allied
states of South Italy in the reign of Berengar (915). But they did not cease to be a constant source of danger and humiliation
and caused even the Saxon Emperors much trouble. Indeed Otto III was badly beaten by them and very nearly perished in the
battle. The Saracens of Spain, moreover, for many years harried the northern coasts. They mastered Provence and Sardinia and
devastated the marina of Liguria, Tuscany, and Latium, on one occasion burning to the ground a part of the city of Pisa. Finally,
these Spanish Saracens were vanquished by the Pisan fleets, and those of Sicily and South Italy were conquered and assimilated
by the Normans, as we shall hear later.]
In 855 both Lothair and Pope Leo died--the former in a monastery, to which he had withdrawn, leaving his throne to his
son Louis II, who had some five years before been crowned as co-Emperor. Leo was succeeded by Benedict III, who was the candidate
of the papal party and was chosen against the votes of the official envoys and the express wish
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of the new Emperor--a very plain proof of the state of things at Rome.
Although doubtless much of great importance for the future of Italy was going on unobserved by chroniclers, the annals
of the twenty years during which Louis II reigned (855-75) offer us scarcely anything of interest except the Emperor’s
campaigns against the Saracens, which we have already noted, and certain facts connected with the vigorous conduct of Pope
Nicholas I, of which the following are worth recounting. Nicholas had been elected by imperial influence, but it was not long
before he was in vehement strife with Louis, and the total disregard of all ordinary rules of honesty which seems to have
been almost always combined in the papal conscience with other, not seldom admirably courageous, qualities, induced him to
use as a weapon of offence the notorious ‘Isidore Decretals,’ a collection (compiled in France) of forged decrees
of fictitious Councils, by which the Roman pontiff was given supremacy over all other bishops, and the ecclesiastical authority
(as in the famous Donations of Constantine and Pipin) was made entirely independent of the civil power. After this passage
of arms with the Emperor Pope Nicholas turned fiercely against the Archbishop of Ravenna, who, like many of his predecessors,
had assumed a somewhat defiant attitude against Rome, and after a brief duel completely vanquished him. Then he attacked the
Patriarch of Constantinople and widened the breach which finally ended in the rupture between the West and the East on the
fiercely disputed Filioque question--the question whether the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Son as well as from the
Father. Then he showed his courage on a point of a less abstruse nature. The brother of Louis II, Lothair, king of Lotharingia,
had become deeply enamoured of a lady called Waldrada, who exercised a daemonic fascination over him, and whom he had actually
caused to be crowned in the place of his queen, Luitberga. It was a case not unlike that of Anne Bullen, and in both cases
the Pope was doubtless on the right side. A Church Council at Metz had sanctioned the divorce and blessed the new marriage,
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and the Archbishops of Trier and of Cln came to Rome to urge their views; but Pope Nicholas for three weeks refused them
audience and then deposed and excommunicated both of them.
Thereupon Emperor Louis, who was at Benevento on a campaign against the Saracens, in great indignation marched upon Rome
and occupied the Civitas Leonina. Pope Nicholas adopted a policy of passive resistance. He entered St. Peter’s basilica
and for two whole days knelt fasting before the high altar; and in the end he triumphed, for Louis fell ill of Roman fever
and returned to the north without having effected anything; and Lothair died a few years later, after making vain and humiliating
efforts to procure from the successor of Pope Nicholas the recognition of Waldrada as queen.
When Louis II died at Brescia in 875 his two uncles, Louis the German king and Charles the Bald of France, who had already
seized on Lothair’s dominions, were rival claimants for the kingship of Italy and the imperial title, and it is interesting
to note that on this occasion, instead of a self-crowned Emperor, we have the matter decided by the Pope--the energetic and
ambitious John VIII- and by the Italian magnates. Certain it is that Charles was invited--almost summoned--to Rome by John
in order to receive papal coronation as Emperor, and that he obeyed and immediately afterwards proceeded to Pavia, were in
the presence of a great council of Italian nobles and prelates he was crowned by the Archbishop of Milan with the Lombard
Iron Crown as King of Italy. The two years of the reign of Charles the Bald are marked by nothing but his perpetual fightings
against his nephews, the sons of Louis the German (one of whom, Charles the Fat, succeeded him) and by renewed troubles with
the Saracens, who, although defeated off the Circeian Cape by an Italian fleet commanded by Pope John in person, ravaged the
Roman territory and, aided once more by the treacherous Neapolitans, threatened Rome itself. (8)
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On the death of Charles the Bald in 877 there followed a dismal period of four years of petty wars, during which there
was no Emperor. The claimants were the son of Charles, Louis the Stammerer (le Bgue), and his three cousins, the sons of
Louis the German. One of these, Carlmann, was made King of Italy, and on his death in 879 his brother Charles the Fat succeeded
him and was finally crowned Emperor in 881. As all his rivals (9) had died, Charles the Fat not much later became also king
of Germany and of France (that is, of the East and the West Frank kingdoms) and was thus monarch of almost the whole of the
former Empire of Charles the Great. But his stupid incompetence proves no less remarkable than his bodily grossness, and an
assembly of nobles held at Tribur, near Mainz, deposed him in 887, and in the next year he died. Thus after eighty-eight years
the hereditary dynasty of Carolingian princes who called themselves Kings of Italy and Emperors of the Romans came practically
to an end, although, as we shall see, some of the kings and so-called Emperors of the following obscure and tempestuous period
were illegitimately (as Arnulf) or through the female line (as Berengar and Louis) connected with the stock of Charles the
Great.
(2) SO-CALLED ITALIAN KINGS AND EMPERORS (888-962)
The degradation of the imperial and kingly dignity was due to numerous causes. One was the degeneracy of the Carolingian
princes; another the fatal family feuds that multiplied like hydra-heads; another the usurpation of civil authority by the
Pope and the bishops; another the exhausting and often vain struggles against external foes, such as the Saracens, to whom
were soon to be added the Hungarians and the Normans; and, lastly, a very important cause was the rapidly growing independence
not only of various city communes, such
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INSERT TABLE
LINEAGE OF THE CAROLINGIANS
(AS FAR AS ITALY IS CONCERNED)
N.B. For the ancestors of Charles see p. 250
The Emperors are numbered.
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as Venice and Naples (to say nothing of Rome), but also of the powerful feudatories of the crown, who in many cases had
founded hereditary duchies or marquisates and were naturally inclined to aim still higher and to fight among themselves for
the crown of Italy, or even to grasp at the elusive phantom of the imperial diadem.
The break-up of the Carolingian Empire was followed by the gradual rise of two great and distinct nations, the French and
the German; and for a time it seemed as if also Italy might at length coalesce into a nation under native kings. For this
reason Italian writers are apt to linger somewhat fondly over these so-called ‘Italian’ dukes and marquesses,
and over what they call the regno d’Italia indipendente, whereas by the German historian this period, during
which Italy was to a great extent free from Germanic domination, is often regarded as almost too trivial or too degraded to
deserved description. (9)
As I am making some observations in a later chapter on the state of learning, religion, and art in Italy during the ninth
and tenth centuries, and as the fightings of rival claimants to the crown of Italy are intrinsically of minimal importance,
I shall give a very brief account of what is generally called the history of this period.
In the case of Charles the Fat we noted that the election to the imperial dignity seems to have become, for the time at
least, dependent on the Pope, and that the magnates, lay and ecclesiastical, of Northern Italy had assumed the right to choose
or sanction their own king; for they caused Charles to be crowned at Pavia with the Lombard crown by the Archbishop of Milan.
On his deposition it was therefore but natural that these magnates should again choose their own king. Ignoring the fact that
Arnulf of Carinthia, a bastard Carolingian, had
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been elected in the place of Charles as German king and regarded himself also as ipso facto King of Italy, they
chose Berengar, the Marquess of Friuli, (10) son of Gisela, a daughter of Louis the Pious.
During the next thirty-seven years (888-925) Berengar, recognized by a certain number of Italians as their king, had to
contend successively against five rival claimants, four of whom succeeded in obtaining papal coronation as ‘Emperors’
before he himself attained that dignity in 915. The first of these rivals was the Duke of Spoleto. How audaciously independent
these Lombard dukes of southern Italy had become we have already seen. While Louis II was still Emperor and Hadrian II was
Pope (in 867) the Spoletan duke, Lambert, had suddenly invaded and plundered Rome. This feat he repeated in 878, when he kept
Pope John VIII a prisoner for a month, endeavouring vainly to force him to bestow the imperial title on Carlmann and using
such threats that the Pontiff, whom we have already admired for his martial courage and his brilliant defeat of the Saracens,
fled away on a ship, betaking himself to count (afterwards King) Boson of Provence.
Now this Duke Lambert of Spoleto had a son Guido, whom Charles the Fat deposed on a charge of treason, giving his dukedom
to Berengar of Friuli. But Guido had reinstated himself by help of the Saracens, (11) and after defeating Berengar on the
river Trebia, near Pavia, had the Iron Crown set on his own head as King of Italy, and two years later (891) was crowned with
the imperial diadem at St. Peter’s in Rome, although the Pope, Stephen V, was in secret collusion with a third competitor,
namely Arnulf of Carinthia, who, as the successor of Charles the Fat north of the Alps, had all this time
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been asserting his claims to the kingship of Italy and also to the title of Emperor. (12)
Guido was not content with possessing the imperial title. He wished to found an imperial dynasty by making also his son,
Lambert, an Emperor, and the notorious Formosus, who had succeeded to the papal throne, at first showed favour to these ambitious
projects and crowned Lambert at Ravenna as co-Emperor, but when after Guido’s death Arnulf descended (896) with a strong
army into Italy and entered Rome the weak-minded or crafty pontiff transferred his support from the Spoletan to the German
claimant, and, although he had already set the imperial crown on Lambert’s head, he now repeated the ceremony in favour
of his rival.
Arnulf, however, did not gain much from having attained the object of his ambition, for while preparing to attack Lambert
at Spoleto, he was suddenly struck down by paralysis, and though he lingered on for three years his political influence in
Italy was at an end. The revulsion of feeling at Rome against the coronation of this ‘barbarian’ and against the
Pope who had perpetrated this execrable unctio barbarica was so strong that the corpse of Formosus was actually disinterred
in order to be arraigned before a Synod--a scene that will be described in a later chapter. Lambert, on the contrary, strongly
supported by his ambitious mother Agiltrud (the daughter of that Beneventan duke who took Emperor Louis prisoner), rose greatly
in popular favour, and would probably have succeeded in outvying Berengar, his one remaining rival, but in 898 he was killed
by a fall from his horse while hunting--or was, if another account is the true one, assassinated. Thus Berengar was left without
competitors.
But his peaceful enjoyment of the title of King of Italy was short-lived. A new and terrible enemy, the Magyars, as they
called themselves, or the Hun-ugri, as the Slavs called them, of the same Oriental stock as the Huns and not unlike
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them in their savagery and pitiless humanity, had advanced in vast numbers from the Ural regions and now, finding but little
resistance in the Slav peoples, had already under their chieftain Arpad seized on the country which from them still bears
the name of Hungary; and they soon penetrated into Germany, France, and Italy, making themselves for half a century the terror
of Europe, until in 955 they were totally routed by the Emperor Otto I at the great battle of Lechfeld. (13)
It was in 899 that these Magyars came streaming down into Italy. They inflicted such a defeat on Berengar near the river
Brenta that once more his adversaries took courage, and, following the policy that brought such woes unnumber’d on Italy,
encouraged as claimant of the imperial crown an alien prince, Louis, the son of ‘King’ Boson of Provence and of
Ermengard, the daughter of the Carolingian Louis II. The young pretender, now King of Provence, responded to the invitation;
he came to Rome and was actually crowned Emperor by Pope John IX; but Berengar boldly assailed him and made him promise to
go home and never again to come to Italy. This promise, however, Louis broke, and in 904 he was captured by Berengar, who
blinded him and sent him back to Provence.
Once more Berengar had a period of uncontested kingship, and in 915, having succeeded, together with Pope John X, in forming
a league of the Lombard duchies with Naples and other cities for the object of annihilating the Saracen camp on the Garigliano--an
object that was attained--he was acclaimed and crowned Emperor at Rome. Things now began again to look as if Italy might ultimately
attain peace and unity under her own rulers; but these native-born Kings and Emperors were little to the mind of the Popes,
who found themselves confronted with ever-present control, and the ambitious and unprincipled John X, shortly after he had
set the imperial diadem on the head of Berengar, began, like many
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of his predecessors and successors, to ‘play the harlot,’ as Dante calls it, with foreign princes. He invited
Rudolf, king of trans-Juran Burgundy, to assume the kingship of Italy, and actually set the Iron Crown on his head at Pavia
in 922. Thereupon Berengar, reduced to great straits, had recourse to the still less praiseworthy expedient of inviting his
old enemies, the Magyars, to re-invade Italy. This they did--but, instead of helping Berengar, they betook themselves to plundering
the country. They set fire to Pavia, and then in large marauding bands they spread southwards as far as Rome. Meanwhile Berengar
had succeeded without their aid in beating Rudolf and driving him back to Burgundy; but shortly afterwards (924) he was murdered
at Verona, it is said by an intimate friend, Flambert, who had already conspired against him and had been pardoned. (14)
During the next thirty-seven years there was no Emperor. That which had once signified world-wide Empire had become an
empty title affected by Byzantine rulers, or conferred by Popes on Germanic monarchs, or Provenal princes, or Lombard dukes.
The non-existence of an Imperator Romanorum in Italy for more than the third of a century was a matter of small moment,
for it is the reality behind such names that lends them their only importance, and whatever importance attaches itself to
the later ‘Holy Roman Empire’ is due not to unbroken succession, but entirely to the political and personal importance
of the Germanic monarchs who, more or less with the sanction of the Roman people, assumed the imperial title. The original
Imperium Romanum had come to an end before the sixth century, and the only right that medieval and modern Imperatores
Romanorum had to their title was the right of might, or the right possessed by the Romans (and in some cases perhaps by
the Popes as representatives of the Roman people) to revive and confer that title as they liked. But while it
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must be allowed that the imperial dignity as revived in the person of Otto was still more of a fiction than the title which
with their piissimus Augustus, a Deo coronatus, magnus Imperator the Romans conferred on Charles the Great, or even
more of a fiction than the honour conferred by the unctio barbarica of papal hands on Arnulf of Carinthia, it should
not be forgotten that any such thing as imperial succession has sometimes what one may call a subjective reality; for, however
fictitious may be the uninterrupted transmission of some mystic prerogative, the emotions excited in minds that accept such
pretensions often prove a real and potent force in historical evolution, and they cannot be ignored. (15)
Never-ending feuds and civic discords, the entire submergence of all patriotism in the meanest personal ambitions, the
most shameful collusion with alien princes and barbarian foes--such are the main traits of this so-called regno d’Italia
indipendente, during which the Italians of that age proved themselves utterly unworthy of independence.
A bare statement of the political events of these thirty-seven years, from the murder of Berengar in 924, is given in the
List of Emperors and Kings (pp. 378-79) and will serve as a clue while we explore a little further in order to discover some
of the forces that were at work behind the scenes of this perplexingly crowded puppet-show. The chief of these influences
were exercised by women, and more than one of these women attained for a time a political power comparable with that of Placidia
or Pulcheria; but they gained and retained that power by the exercise of a daemonic, or perhaps we may call it a diabolic,
fascination that recalls the younger Agrippina
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or Lucrezia Borgia rather than the daughter or the grand-daughter of the great Theodosius.
One of these women was Bertha, daughter of that Waldrada whose fascinations had caused such trouble in the case of Lothair
(p. 320). Bertha had first married Count Theobald of Provence, by whom she had a son, Hugo. She then married Adalbert, Marquess
of Tuscany, and had several children, to one of which, Ermengard, she transmitted the fatal dower of fascinating beauty. Bertha
and, after her death, Ermengard--now Marchioness of Ivrea--seem to have gained such influence over the Italian nobles that
soon after the murder of Berengar these nobles decided to ignore Rudolf of Burgundy (though already crowned by the Pope) and
to invite the young Count of Provence to assume the crown of Italy. (16) Hugo landed at Pisa (926) and was crowned at Pavia,
Pope John X for the third time giving his unholy unction to a claimant during the life of his rival and thus causing to fester
the great open sore of Italy instead of aiding, as Head of the Christian Church, to bind up and heal her wounds.
* * * *
*
A GLANCE BACKWARD AT ROME FROM 896 TO 926
But it was in Rome that female domination at this epoch had become most notable; and we must retrace our steps to observe
how this began. Ever since the days when (896) Pope Formosus had crowned Arnulf as Emperor and when, to avenge this indignity,
his corpse had been disinterred and arraigned before a Synod by Pope Stephen VI a most scandalous state of things had prevailed
in Rome, where within eight years (896-904) there were no less than ten Popes, most of whom gained or lost their office by
criminal intrigue or murder. (17)
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During this state of things, at a time when all Italy is supposed by some to have been blessed by independence under the
rule of her own king Berengar, a formidable despotism had begun to arise in Rome--one before which during half a century both
the Papacy and the Kingship of Italy were to succumb. A certain Theophylact, a leader of the lay aristocracy (judices de
militia), had risen to the rank of Dux et magister militum and had assumed the titles of Senator and Consul, while
his wife, who bore the ill-omened name of Theodora, (18) and her two daughters Marozia and Theodora succeeded in attracting
by their beauty and dissolute habits a large number of adorers and satellites. In 904 the ambitious Cardinal Sergius, who
had for years endeavoured to grasp the papal tiara, and who had at last succeeded in becoming the paramour of Marozia, was
made Pope, and henceforth for many years the pontifical office was dependent on these women. For seven years this man, who
is described by Baronius and other ecclesiastical writers as a ‘monster’ and by Gregorovius as a ‘terrorizing
criminal,’ occupied the chair of St. Peter, while his concubine and her Semiramis-like mother held court with a pomp
and voluptuousness that recalled the worst days of the ancient Empire.
Sergius III died in 911. Two Popes followed about whom we know next to nothing, but whose election and sudden disappearance
were probably due to court intrigues. Then a certain Presbyter John, who had long made love to the no longer youthful Theodora
and had been made Archbishop of Ravenna, was by the influence of his paramour transferred to the papal throne (914). This
is that lecherous and treacherous Pope John X of whom we have already heard more than
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enough. Meantime Marozia, having lost her pontifical lover had married (c. 913) a soldier of fortune, a certain
Alberich, who after serving in turn under Guido and Berengar had succeeded in making himself Duke of Spoleto
It was shortly after this that Berengar, favoured by Theophylact and Alberich and their two all-powerful consorts, came
to Rome and was crowned Emperor (915) by Pope John X, after having routed the Saracens on the Garigliano, as has been already
narrated.
Theophylact, Theodora, and Alberich now suddenly and somewhat mysteriously disappear from the scene, and Marozia, establishing
herself in the huge fortress of S. Angelo (the Mole of Hadrian), dominates Rome. Pope John, as we have already seen, abandons
the cause of Berengar and invites and crowns Rudolf of Burgundy, and not long afterwards repeats the process with Hugo of
Provence. These traitorous intrigues bring Marozia into collision with the former lover of her mother, and finally she succeeds
in seizing and imprisoning him in the fortress, and ere long the unhappy pontiff is put to death by her orders--strangled,
it is said, or stifled with a pillow.
* * * *
*
After the death of her husband, Alberich of Spoleto, Marozia had married Guido of Tuscany, the brother of Ermengard
and the stepbrother of Hugo of Provence. Now when Hugo was elected and crowned King of Italy (926) it was natural that Marozia
should feel deeply aggrieved, for she had doubtless wedded Guido with the object of making herself Queen of Italy.
But, as luck would have it, Guido soon died, and Hugo of Provence about the same time lost his wife. The chance was one not
to be lost, and ere long the seductive arts of the mistress of Rome were once more crowned with success. Hugo came to Rome
(932) and celebrated his marriage with Marozia in the Castle of S. Angelo--the ceremony being performed and the royal pair
being blessed by the lately elected Pope John XI, the bastard offspring of the bride by the paramour of her youthful days,
Pope Sergius III.
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But by her first husband, Alberich of Spoleto, Marozia had a legitimate son, now about eighteen years of age,
also named Alberich, who seems to have inherited his father’s soldier-like qualities and to have been possessed of a
masterful character and a genius for leadership. This youth was profoundly disgusted by his mother’s conduct and resented
the presence of his new stepfather, in whose retinue he had to serve as page, and when Hugo rewarded his impudence (19) with
a box on the ear he rushed forth and with fiery eloquence harangued the assembled multitude, who forthwith made an assault
on the castle. Hugo, terrified, was let down by a rope and fled from Rome. Alberich imprisoned his mother, (20) put his base-born
half-brother, the young Pope, into strict custody, and assumed the titles of Princeps and Senator.
Alberich, or Alberico, governed Rome, perhaps with severity, but with evident justice, for twenty-two years
(932-54). It is an episode in Italian history full of most interesting possibilities, frustrated, alas, by Alberich’s
son and successor, who had inherited the character of his grandmother, Marozia. Alberich’s military reforms were important.
He reconstituted the army in twelve scholae, corresponding to the twelve regions of the city, each commanded by a banderese,
or flag-captain, like the Florentine Gonfaloniere della compagnia (not of course the Gonfaloniere of Justice, who was
a political magnate). Under his titles of Princeps and Senator he evidently combined in his own person the chief
legislative and executive powers; for the Senate had ceased to exist and the nobles seem to have acted merely as his subordinate
officials. As President of the Tribunal, (21) like the Venetian Doges of early days, he held an almost absolute power in his
hands, and although on his coins we find his name associated with that of the reigning Pope, it is very evident that none
of the seven pontiffs of this period had any political authority. Most of them were doubtless
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selected by Alberich himself, and under his rgime a Pope was, as he should be, nothing but the Head
of the Church, exercising spiritual influence. And it cannot be doubted that Alberich highly appreciated the value of spiritual
influence--at least as an accessory of civil power. This is apparent from two facts. Firstly, he encouraged vigorously the
reform of monasteries (22) which had been initiated at Cluny, in France, by Friar Berno, and when Berno’s disciple,
Odo, visited Rome he gave him a palace on the Aventine for the purpose of founding a reformed convent (now S. Maria Aventina
and the priory of the Knights of Malta). Secondly, he was so impressed with the necessity of recognizing and using religious
influences that he determined to combine in one person the chief civil and the chief ecclesiastical authority--an audacious
experiment, which seems to have succeeded in the case of the early Roman Emperors and in that of certain Moslem Caliphs, but
which in many cases has proved the source of great trouble. Before his death he assembled the nobles of Rome before the Confessio
of St. Peter’s and made them swear that when the next vacancy occurred they would elect his son and successor, Octavian,
to the papal throne. We shall see how this interesting experiment succeeded.
Before Alberich died, in 954, King Hugo had thrice (933, 936, and 941) attacked Rome in order to avenge himself and to
expel his rebellious stepson; but Alberich had repulsed him with brilliant success, and is spite of a temporary truce (during
which he married Hugo’s daughter) he defied all his efforts to enter the city and receive the imperial crown from the
hands of the Pope.
About 940 a rival claimant to the crown of Italy had appeared in the person of another Berengar, Marquess of Ivrea (stepson
of Ermengard above mentioned). Hugo, it is said,
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pretended to listen in a friendly way to his claims and invited him to his court, intending to kill or blind him. But Hugo’s
son, Lothair, through friendship or compassion, revealed the design to Berengar, who fled to Germany and in 946, with the
help of Otto, the Saxon king, returned and expelled Hugo, who retired to his native realm of Provence and died shortly afterwards
at Arles. Berengar was now nominally the regent of the young king Lothair, but it was not long before Lothair died (950)--very
probably poisoned by the man whose life he had saved. Now Hugo had wedded a Burgundian dowager and had married her daughter,
Adelheid, to his son Lothair. On Lothair’s death Berengar tried to force Adelheid to marry his son Adalbert, whom he
had nominated as his partner in the Kingship of Italy. Adelheid very naturally declined the honour. She was forthwith imprisoned
in a tower of the Lago di Garda; but she escaped and appealed to Otto of Saxony. (23) Impelled by this and by other appeals
from the enemies of the tyrannous Berengar, Otto descended with an army--the first German army that had crossed the Alps for
half a century--and, having seized Pavia, married the fair Adelheid and had himself crowned King of Italy, though Berengar
still held that title. He also sent word to Pope Agapetus that he intended to come to Rome and be crowned as Emperor. This
design however he prudently abandoned, for Alberich gave him to understand that without his leave no king should enter Rome,
and this leave he refused to give. But after Alberich’s death in 954 the state of things in Rome became intolerable.
Octavian, his dissolute son, succeeded him as Princeps and Senator, and, on the decease of Agapetus in 955, was also elected
Pope, taking the name John XII.
The accounts given of the pazza bestialit of this papal libertine by impartial writers such as Villari and Gregorovius,
and even by partial writers such as the Abb Duchesne (in his splendid edition of the Liber Pontificalis), are almost
incredible.
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He is said to have kept a large harem of concubines. In company with dissolute boon companions he abandoned himself to
every kind of voluptuous excess. He used to drink health to the devil and to invoke the pagan ‘demon’ gods. We
hear of a deacon ordained in a stable, a bishop consecrated at the age of ten, a father confessor blinded and dying of his
wounds, a cardinal shamefully mutilated and killed by order of this Vicar of Christ. No honest woman, we are told, dared to
set her foot in the Lateran. (24) And things were scarcely better at the court and camp of King Berengar the Second, who had
humbly received back from the Saxon king at Augsburg the Lombard crown, promising to wear it as Otto’s vassal. His insane
excesses and insolent cruelty, combined with the bacchanal orgies of the papal-senatorial court at Rome, forced the Italians
to appeal once more to the German monarch, who responded and with a large army crossed the Brenner. Finding no resistance
in North Italy--for Berengar’s soldiers refused to fight--and receiving an invitation from the young profligate at Rome,
who had now determined to play off the German against the Italian King of Italy, Otto entered the city and was crowned Emperor
on February 2, 962.
Thus by the grace of heaven transmitted through the blood-stained hands of this young ruffian was instituted what was later
known as the Holy Roman Empire. How Pope John could be a medium of such grace is a question for theologians; but how little
he represented the will of the Romans may be gathered from what an old chronicler, Thietmar, relates. The nobles, we are told,
concealed their feelings in a gloomy silence. On the faces of these Romans, whose liberties and power he was come to destroy,
Otto read murderous resentment, and
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ere he betook himself to the ceremony of coronation he said to Ansfried of Louvain: ‘When I kneel at St. Peter’s
tomb, do thou hold thy sword continually above my head, for I know that my forefathers oft had experience of the treachery
of the Romans.’ It should therefore scarcely surprise us that ere the next two years had passed the new Emperor
had deposed the Pope to whose apostolic unction he owed his divine rights and had deprived the Romans of their right to elect
their own pontiffs.
(3) THE SAXON EMPERORS (962-1024)
A document called the Privilegium Ottonis is still extant which (except for some later additions) seems to have
been drawn up between Otto and Pope John XII. It officially sanctions the revival of the empire and the transmission of the
dignity from the Frank to the Saxon monarchs; it also renews all the concessions made by the donations of Pipin and Charles
the Great, giving to the Church even Venice and Istria and Naples and Benevento, and Sicily itself--which was still in the
hands of the Saracens !
But whatever we may think of renewed Donations and the rehabilitated Empire, the revival of German domination in Italy
was a fact the reality of which was substantiated very soon; for when Pope John, incited by the discontented nobility, began
to intrigue with Berengar and received Berengar’s son, Adalbert, as his guest at Rome, Otto came sweeping back form
North Italy. At his approach the Pope and Adalbert took to flight. Otto entered Rome and, having convoked a Council (known
as the Council of November), he formally deposed John and gave the Romans his imperial sanction to elect another pontiff,
Pope Leo VIII--a precedent of much importance, seeing that during the next hundred years the Popes were selected by the Emperors
or nominated with the sanction of their envoys, and did much to restore the good name of the Papacy. But the deposed and exiled
pope John was not easily suppressed. He incited a tumult at Rome, and an assault made on Otto, in the Vatican, was repelled
with difficulty and considerable slaughter. Indeed, there is no
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saying how things might have ended, for the Romans were fiercely resentful at Otto’s insolent interference with their
privileges. But Pope John’s hour had sounded; he was caught by an indignant husband and so severely cudgelled that he
died. The Romans forthwith elected a Pope, Benedict V, in his stead, ignoring Otto’s Pope; but the imperial party finally
prevailed and Benedict was deposed.
Meanwhile Otto had captured Berengar in North Italy and had sent him off to Germany, where soon after he died.
In 966, disorders having occurred at Rome, Otto again marched south and suppressed the rebels with great severity. The
Prefect of the city, who had resisted the Pope (John XIII, Otto’s protg), was hung up by the hair to the equestrian
statue of Marcus Aurelius, (25) then paraded, riding back foremost on a donkey, through the streets, and finally taken off
to prison in Germany. After this Otto spent the greater part of his life in Italy--a fact that shows how anxious he was, in
spite of his vast northern dominions, to establish his title as hereditary Roman Emperor of the West. This anxiety induced
him to have his son, a child of twelve, crowned by the Pope with the imperial diadem--a function that took place in St. Peter’s
on Christmas Day 967. And, not content with this, he tried to secure recognition as Western Emperor from the Emperor of the
East, and requested as a bride for the young Otto a Byzantine princess; but the proposal, which included the conquest of Sicily
from the Saracens and the cession of the Byzantine possessions in South Italy as dowry, was scornfully rejected by Nicephorus
Phocas, the conqueror of Crete, who regarded himself as the only legitimate Roman Emperor and poured contempt on Otto’s
pretensions. Moreover, although Otto sent his faithful Liudprand (26) as envoy to Constantinople,
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the Byzantine Emperor gathered a fleet to aid Adalbert, Berengar’s son, and to recover, if possible, for the Eastern
Empire the cities of Capua, Benevento, Ravenna--and Rome ! Thus Otto was forced to fight, and with the co-operation of a powerful
Lombard duke, Pandulf Iron-head (Testa di ferro), who had combined under his rule the provinces of Spoleto, Benevento,
and Capua, he besieged Bari; but Bari had open access to the sea, which was dominated by the Byzantine fleet, and, as ill-luck
would have it, Pandulf fell into an ambush and was captured.
At this juncture Phocas was assassinated by his wife, who had already poisoned her father and her first husband, the Emperor
Romanus. Her fellow-conspirator, the puny John Zimisces, who ascended the Byzantine throne, released Pandulf and propitiated
Otto by sending over to Italy the desired princess Theophano, daughter of the triple murderess. She was wedded to the young
co-Emperor and received the title of Empress. A year later, in May 973, Otto the Great, as he is called, died.
His successor, Otto II, was now a youth of seventeen. Without possessing the first Otto’s masterful character, he
certainly showed courage and vigour, and owed to his mother Adelheid a culture and refinement that was evidently lacking in
his father. His reign of ten years was mainly occupied in fighting. First he was assailed by Henry of Bavaria, whom he defeated
and deposed. Then he was attacked, and very nearly captured at Aachen, by Lothair of France; whereupon he led an army against
Paris, and although he did not succeed in capturing it, he secured his undisturbed possession of Lorraine. Then he marched
down into Italy, and after restoring a fugitive Pope and settling affairs at Rome, where violent discords, between the imperial
and papal parties had become chronic, (27) he opened (982) the campaign against the Saracens, who were still in possession
of Sicily and had lately once more crossed over in great numbers into South Italy. Emboldened by success,
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Otto acted rashly and was surprised and totally defeated not far from Cotrone, the ancient Crotona, and would have been
captured had he not swum out to a Byzantine vessel, whose crew luckily did not recognize him, (28) so that he was able to
reach a friendly shore in safety. The news of this disaster caused great disturbances and dangerous rebellions in Otto’s
northern dominions, but he determined first to regain prestige in Italy. At Verona he convoked a great assembly of his nobles
of both nations and caused his son, a child of three, to be elected King of Germany and Italy. He then made preparations to
renew the war against the Saracens, and after vainly trying to persuade the Venetians to lend him a fleet, he marched once
more down to Rome. Here he was attacked by a fever and died. He was buried in an ancient sarcophagus which had a porphyry
lid stolen from Hadrian’s tomb. This sarcophagus stood for five centuries in the Paradiso, the great atrium of
the old basilica, but when Paul V reconstructed the cathedral vaults, about 1610, the porphyry lid was taken to serve (as
it still does) for a font, the old sarcophagus was given over to the kitchen of the Quirinal for a water-trough, and the body
of the youthful Emperor was put into the marble and stucco coffin which now stands in the crypt (Grotte Vecchie) of
St. Peter’s, not far from the urns of ‘King James III,’ of England and his sons Charles Edward and Henry.
A mosaic, probably first erected by the Empress Theophano, is still to be seen near Otto’s tomb, and is a very interesting
specimen of the degraded art of this period.
The child Otto III, born in 980, had been lately crowned at Aachen by the German nobles as King of Germany and of the Romans
when the news of his father’s death at Rome arrived. His mother, the ‘Empress’ Theophano, was made regent,
and she proved herself worthy of the post, having evidently inherited more of the nature of her father, the Eastern Emperor
Romanus, than of her mother’s infamous character.
During the first six years of her regency we hear of little
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except that at Rome, as usual, fierce discords prevailed. One Pope (Benedict VI) had been imprisoned and strangled by the
leaders of the populace; the next, Boniface VII, had fled from the imperialists of Constantinople; another (Benedict VII),
driven out by the people and restored by Otto II, had been succeeded by John XIV, Bishop of Pavia and imperial chancellor.
But Boniface returned from the East (985), deposed and poisoned, or starved to death, Pope John, and behaved with such intolerable
cruelty that the populace rose, killed him, dragged his body through the streets, and cast it beneath the ‘horse of
Constantine,’ namely the equestrian stature of Marcus Aurelius (see p. 338 n), the great imperial pagan philosopher,
whose meditations would have been disturbed could he have foreseen the strange uses to which his monument would be put.
The leader of these tumults was Crescentius, whose father had held a similar position as head of the anti-German party.
Crescentius assumed the ancient and princely title of Patrician of the Romans, and for some years was evidently as much the
master of Rome as Alberich had been, and not only elected the next Pope (John XV, who reigned eleven years) but also expelled
him when he proved recalcitrant. It is therefore somewhat surprising to find Theophano still at Rome in 989, and evidently
recognized as ‘Empress’ both by Crescentius and this Pope; and even when, after her death and after the short
regency of the dowager-Queen Adelheid, the young Otto, now sixteen years of age, came to Rome (996) to assume the imperial
crown, Crescentius seems to have made no objection and to have received no castigation. But his fate was not to be deferred
for long, as we shall see.
Before proceeding with the narrative, however, it will be well to say something about the personality of the young ‘Saxon’
monarch who reigned nineteen and lived twenty-two years. ‘The Germans’ we are told by a recent writer on this
period of Italian history, ‘were big blond men, beer-drinkers, huge eaters, rough, ill-mannered, arrogant, phlegmatic,
and brave.’ Perhaps this is the picture that one is rather apt to
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form when one hears of the ‘Saxon’ Ottos and their ilk. Perhaps too the description is fairly correct in the
case of Otto the Great, who possessed, it is said, very little in the way of education, although, like Charles the Great,
he was a zealous patron of learning (29) and a friend of scholars, such as the polyglot Liudprand. But it certainly is not
correct in the case of the second Otto, who was an enthusiast for Southern culture and was in person probably dark and certainly
small, as was proved when, as stated above, his body was removed from its sarcophagus. Still less does the description apply
to the third Otto, though Gregorovius claims him as ‘German from head to foot.” His mother, the Byzantine princess
Theophano, descended from the Emperors Basil and Leo (the last notable as a philosopher), had imparted to him a temperament
almost Oriental in its fantastic proclivities and had fostered his enthusiasm for Byzantine civilization as well as for the
ideals of Eastern Christianity.
When Otto III, as a youth of sixteen first came to Rome in 996, the Pope (John XV) had just died. He forthwith caused to
be consecrated his own second-cousin, Bruno--a young man of twenty-three--who took the name Gregory V and three weeks later
placed the imperial diadem on the head of his royal patron. He, the first German Pope, was not only a favourer of the reforms
begun at Cluny (p. 334) but, like Otto himself, was strongly influenced by the enthusiasm for the monastic life which, as
was natural at an epoch of such civic and religious disturbance, once more swept through Christendom, as it had done in earlier
days. Several notable examples had of late excited imitation. St. Nilus, an illiterate Calabrian, who lived as hermit in a
cave near Gaeta, was regarded by Otto, as by numberless other devotees, with unbounded veneration. St. Romuald of Ravenna,
who some-
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what later founded the Reformed (or White) Benedictine Order of Camaldoli, was another who aroused immense enthusiasm,
and was believed to have influenced Doge Pietro Orseolo to leave Venice by stealth, in the disguise of a pilgrim, and bury
himself in a French monastery. A still deeper impression was made by Adalbert, the saintly and learned Bishop of Prag, who,
after having devoted himself to the life of a recluse at Rome, was forced reluctantly to return to his Bohemian diocese, and
at last sought and found a martyr’s death among the savage heathen of Northern Poland. (30)
Under the ban of such influences the excitable and fantastic temperament of Otto led him into strange extravagances. At
one time we find him as pilgrim visiting Monte Gargano and the relics of St. Bartholomew at Benevento, (31) and the tomb of
St. Adalbert in the wilds of Poland, or devising a crusade to rescue the holy Sepulchre from the power of the Saracens--a
design first realized a century later--and at another time we find him, in an access (Susan note) of fury and fanaticism,
committing the most bloodthirsty atrocities. Specimens of such atrocities--the inhuman mutilation and murder of the Antipope
John XVI, who had been set up by Crescentius in the place of Otto’s cousin Gregory, and the execution of Crescentius
himself and all the chief magistrates of Rome--I have reserved as evidence of the barbarity of the tenth century (see Part
IV, ch. i). Another act that betokens a fantastic impulse is the opening of the tomb in Aachen Cathedral in which, tradition
says, the body of Charles the Great sat enthroned in state. What Otto found, and what he did with what he found, it is impossible
to know; we know however that he ordered that his own
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body should be entombed beside that of Charles at Aachen, and when, in 1003, he died near Rome they carried him thither,
fighting their way through Italy, which was now in a state of open rebellion; for the last years of his reign had been spent
in ever vainer efforts to realize his dream of a re-established Roman-Byzantine Empire in what he called the Eternal City
and the one true capital of the world. Indeed so contemptuously had the Romans regarded his political designs and his religious
enthusiasms that on his last visit to Rome they had treated him with insulting ridicule and had besieged him in his palace
on the Aventine, so that it was with difficulty that he had persuaded them to let him depart unscathed. After retiring for
a time to St. Romuald’s monastery at Ravenna he determined, against the saint’s urgent advice, to renounce the
religious life and once more to attempt the establishment of his Roman Empire. But Rome itself had first to be regained, and
while he hesitated to attack it he himself was attacked by fever and died in the castle of Paterno, near Mount Soracte. At
this moment a Byzantine princess was voyaging to Italy in order to become his wife and the Empress of his dreamland realm.
If we imagine her bending over his lifeless body we have a picture that strikingly symbolizes the non-fulfilment of his many
ambitions.
Henry II, a Bavarian duke of the Saxon house, who succeeded Otto, had personally not much to do with Italy, but, as is
the case with others of these German Kings of Italy and Imperatores Romanorum, his reign serves as a useful frame for
events of importance. Otto’s attempts to reconstruct in Italy an Empire of the Southern type had not only failed, but
had excited a very strong anti-German feeling through the whole of the country. He had looked for support to the Church, and
had favoured the power of the ecclesiastics by recognizing them as hereditary and immediate beneficiaries of the crown and
as independent of other liege-lords. The nobles were by this deeply aggrieved and became ever more and more determined to
shake off the foreign supremacy. In Rome, in spite of the imperial policy of the wise Pope Silvester II, formerly
INSERT FIG 30
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Otto’s tutor, who had succeeded Otto’s cousin Gregory, the son of that Crescentius whom Otto had executed held
power as head of the lay aristocracy for ten years, till he was succeeded by the Counts of Tusculum, who dominated the city
for a still longer period. (32) In North Italy, not only among the lay magnates but also in the numerous cities, (33) which
were rapidly acquiring wealth and independence, the hostility to the Northern barbarian was so intense that a month after
the death of Otto III Marquess Arduin of Ivrea (in Piemont) was crowned at Pavia with the iron crown of Lombardy.
Henry, who had already assumed the title of King of the Romans, answered the challenge by sending a small force, which
was routed by Arduin. He then came himself with an army and was likewise crowned at Pavia with the iron crown as King of Italy;
but how little his rights were founded on the will of the Italian people is proved by the fact that on the same evening a
very serious tumult broke out, during which the Germans (more Teutonico) set fire to Pavia and destroyed a large part
of the city. (34)
In Rome, as elsewhere, the republican movement was gathering force, and, in combination with the patriotism of Arduin’s
supporters, caused the Counts of Tusculum to ally themselves for a time with the Pope and the imperialists. The result was
that Henry was invited to assume the diadem of the Empire, and together with his queen, Kunigund, he was crowned at Rome in
1014. Once more there were violent anti-German demonstrations and serious tumults; but they were suppressed by force, and
the presence of the new Emperor
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and his powerful army so cowed King Arduin that he withdrew to a Benedictine monastery in Piemont, where he soon afterwards
died.
During the next ten years events very little connected with Henry and his Germans, but most momentous for the future of
Italy, took place in the south. Norman pilgrims, (35) returning from Jerusalem (c. 1016), had helped Salerno against
the Saracens and had been enlisted by Melo of Bari against his fellow-subjects, the Byzantines. The Byzantines had defeated
the rebel Melo and his Norman mercenaries at Canne (on the ancient battlefield of Cannae) and had recaptured their supremacy
over most of Apulia and Calabria, and even over the cities of Naples, Capua, and Salerno.
This turn of events caused both Melo and also Pope Benedict VIII to undertake the journey to Germany in order to persuade
Henry to come to the rescue; and he responded to their entreaties. With a large army he marched southwards and obtained some
successes; but he was forced ere long to return to his northern dominions, where he died in 1024.
(4) THE FRANCONIAN EMPERORS (1024-1125)
Both Otto III and Henry II died childless. The Germans elected as their king Conrad II of Franconia--the country of the
Main, Wrzberg, and Nrnberg. The reigns of the four Franconian Emperors, which extended over just a century (1024-1125),
belong mainly to German history and need only be related here in so far as the history of Italy was affected by the attitude
of the Italian people and of the Papacy towards these foreign monarchs, who regarded themselves, and were regarded, not only
by their northern subjects but also by a certain number of their Italian vassals, lay and cleric, as possessing, by virtue
of their coronation as German kings, a right to the iron crown of Lombardy and, as Emperors-designate, to the diadem of the
Caesars. These rights however were fiercely denied by the great majority of the Italian people--a fact that is rendered luridly
evident by the serious
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tumults that almost invariably occurred at these coronations in Pavia, Milan, and Rome, and by the open hostility that
not seldom opposed the descent into Italy of a German king.
But in order to thread the labyrinthine political complexities of this period, and to discover the real relations between
the Germans and the Italians, it is necessary to secure certain clues, and this may perhaps be facilitated by the following
remarks. Firstly, the hold that the German monarchs had on a part of the Italian people was greatly due to the fact that they
favoured the lesser landholders (especially the clerical holders of beneficia) against the powerful nobles who claimed
them as their private vassals. By declaring such beneficiaries to be direct feudatories of the crown and not sub-vassals of
the great nobles they won them over to the imperialistic cause, and at the same time they thus increased very much the independence
and power of the clerics and of a large class of the lay population. Secondly, Rome was constantly being visited by German
monarchs and their warriors. The imperialist cause thus acquired a very considerable following. This caused constant broils
and bloodshed, amidst which the aristocratic, the popular, and the papal partisans in turn appealed to the foreigner in order
to get the better of their adversaries. Moreover, the Romans as well as other South Italians were frequently obliged to look
to the German princes for aid against the Byzantines, the Saracens, or oppressive Lombard dukes. Lastly, in North Italy numerous
cities were rapidly gaining independence as Communes, and attaining very considerable wealth and influence, (36) some of them
as sea-powers, and these Communes naturally stood on the patriotic, anti-German side; but their rivalries often allowed or
invited the interference of the foreigner who was ever ready to intervene in such quarrels and draw profit therefrom.
In this connexion it will be remembered that it was the
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favour of the Frankish and German Emperors (especially that of the three Ottos) which had lifted the Papacy to a position
so formidable that it was finally able, by means of its temporal and its spiritual weapons, to defy and humiliate its patron.
Now this defiance of the imperial power by the Church--first in the person of Aribert of Milan and then in that of Pope Hildebrand--is
doubtless the fact that makes the reigns of these Franconian monarchs of most importance to us. I shall therefore dwell for
a time on this fact, and then pass over the rest of these reigns with very few remarks, reserving such subjects as the coming
of the Normans, the rise of the Communes, and the development of Romanesque architecture for fuller treatment on subsequent
chapters.
Aribert had made himself master of the civil power in Milan, of which city he was the archbishop. His ambition seems to
have aimed at making the Ambrosian Church independent of Rome. In order to forward his designs he invited Conrad II, and crowned
him with the iron crown in the cathedral of S. Ambrogio at Milan. After a year’s sojourn in North Italy, urged by his
ambitious wife Gisela, Conrad proceeded (1027) to Rome, where they both were crowned with the imperial diadem in the presence
of many princes, among whom was Canute (Knut), King of Denmark, Norway, and England. (27) For some time the Emperor remained
in South Italy endeavouring to re-establish his authority. The state of disorder in these regions was almost incurable, constant
war prevailing between Byzantines, Saracens, Lombards, and numerous cities, such as Naples and Capua, which under various
rulers or under republican forms of government had made themselves independent; and the state of things was perhaps made worse
by the fact that Norman adventurers, ever more and more in number, sold their services now to
INSERT FIG 31
349
one combatant and now to another. Conrad seems to have succeeded in reducing parts of the country temporarily to submission,
for we find that he gave formal leave to the Normans to settle near Capua, and thus afforded them their first real pied--terre
in Italy. North of the Alps his exploits in war were remarkable, one of them being the conquest and annexation of Burgundy.
This he effected by the aid of a large force of Italian auxiliaries, and these Lombards and Tuscans, who reached Burgundy
via the Great St. Bernard, Lake Leman, and Geneva, were led by the warlike and ambitious Archbishop Aribert of Milan
and by Boniface, Marquess of Tuscany, father of that famous countess Matilda whose celebrity rests about equally on her momentous
‘Legacy’ and the part that she perhaps takes in Dante’s picture of the Earthly Paradise.(38)
Aribert now becomes almost an independent sovereign at Milan. Conrad, suspecting his loyalty, comes to Milan and arrests
him. Great indignation is excited by this, and Aribert, having managed to escape, fortifies himself in the castle of Milan,
and a battle is fought with indecisive result. Conrad, leaving his troops to besiege the rebel, goes to Rome and after restoring
the iniquitous Benedict IX to the papal throne, (39) persuades him to excommunicate Aribert. But the archbishop held out bravely
at Milan--which city, by the way, he continued to rule for the next seven years--and the German troop was finally withdrawn
to Parma, where it distinguished itself by sanguinary fights with the Italian populace and by setting fire, more suo,
to the city. After another visit to the south, where he and his friend Pope Benedict undertook a somewhat fruitless campaign
against the Byzantines and a certain Pandulf of Capua, who was proving troublesome,
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Conrad marched again northwards, with an army decimated by the plague and by fever. Then, leaving the siege of Milan to
his Italian feudatories, he returned to Germany, where in 1039 he died, probably of the plague.
Henry III, Conrad’s son and successor, reigned about seventeen years as King and ten as Emperor. At first he was
much occupied by troubles in Hungary and Carinthia, and when at last, in 1046, he determined to visit Italy it was apparently
not so much with the object of receiving the imperial diadem as for the purpose of putting an end to the scandalous state
of things then prevailing at the papal court. He was of a religious temperament, ascetically inclined, (40) and earnestly
in favour of Church reform such as was advocated by the monks of Cluny--even in favour of the bold proposal to introduce a
‘truce of God’ (treuga Dei) whereby all civil strife should be forbidden during four days of every week.
What the state of things at Rome was like may be to some extent inferred from the facts given on p. 380. Probably never was
it worse, not even in the days of the Borgias. Henry on his arrival in Italy held three Councils, at Pavia, at the old Etruscan
town of Sutri, and at Rome. By these Councils the sale of the papal dignity by Benedict to Gregory was condemned as most heinous
simony and all the three rival Popes were deposed. Silvester retired into a convent, Gregory was taken to Germany (and was
accompanied by the monk Hildebrand, of whom we shall hear much later), and Benedict took refuge with his relatives at Tusculum.
Henry then caused the German Bishop of Bamberg to be elected Pope, and by him was crowned Emperor on Christmas Day 1046.
But before a year had passed the German Pope, Clement II, was poisoned by agents of Benedict, who with the help of the
Tuscan marquess, Boniface, for the third time ascended the papal throne. Henry deposed him again and nominated the German
Bishop of Brixen; but after a reign of twenty-three days also this Pope (Damasus II) died suddenly, probably
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poisoned by Benedict’s agents. Again Henry caused a German to be elected, the Bishop of Lothringian Toul. Benedict
now seems to have at last renounced his claims. His end is unknown. A charitable chronicler hints that he turned recluse and
died in the odour of sanctity. Others state that he ‘continued to live as a beast.’ It was popularly believed
that he held secret conferences with Satan in the depths of a dark wood.
The Lothringian bishop, who had entered Rome with bare feet (accompanied by monk Hildebrand as his counsellor), proved
as Pope Leo IX an earnest reformer, and undertook zealously the labour of cleansing the Augean mews of Rome. He also visited
some of the chief European cities in order to forward reform and denounce abuses, such as simony and the marriage of the clergy.
(41)
Here it will be well to turn our attention to the fact that to the north of Rome, and also to the south, influences had
arisen which, still more than the isolated city Communes, seemed likely to endanger the German supremacy. In the north the
powerful Boniface, Marquess of Tuscany, who has been already mentioned as the father of Countess Matilda, was showing an evident
desire to dispute the claims of the foreign overlord. His grandfather, Azzo, had owned Canossa Castle--soon to become so famous--and
here had hospitably received the fugitive princess Adelheid, whom Otto the Great married. (42) Azzo and his son Ugo were consequently
much favoured, and soon received very extensive beneficia, including the cities of Mantua, Brescia, Modena, and Reggio.
From Conrad II Boniface received the Marquisate of Tuscany and, as we have seen, aided him in his conquest of Burgundy; but
latterly he had developed ambitious schemes and had allied himself
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with opponents of the Empire, even with that iniquitous wretch Benedict IX.
The other hostile power was that of the Normans. Their story is told in another place. Here a few facts will suffice.
After they had been allowed by Conrad II to settle in the province of Capua, the town of Aversa became their chief stronghold.
About ten years later (c. 1040) arrived, among many other Norman adventurers, some of the numerous sons of Tancred
d’Hauteville, and the power of the Norman warriors, who constantly seized new territory and frequently changed sides
among the various combatants (Byzantines, Lombards, Dukes of Naples, etc.), became so formidable that the people of Benevento
applied to Pope Leo IX and gave over their city to him (43) on condition that he should procure aid for them against these
troublesome foes. Leo accepted. He at once started for Germany, and was able to procure a few soldiers of fortune from Henry.
With these and his own troops he was marching southwards down the Adriatic coast when near the promontory of Gargano he was
met by the Normans, among whose leaders was now the famous Robert Guiscard, and was totally defeated and taken prisoner. But
the victors, says Villari, vanquished by reverence, cast themselves on their knees before him, supplicating his forgiveness;
then they took him to Benevento, where for six months they retained him as hostage ! He probably bought his release by promising
to invest them with the sovranty of Apulia, Calabria, and even Sicily--which still belonged to the Moslems.
Leo IX died shortly after this disaster. Henry straightway nominated once more a German--the Bishop of Eichstadt (Victor
II). It will be noted that this was the fourth Pope nominated by the Emperor and elected without any open opposition by the
people and clerics of Rome. No wonder if these German monarchs began to regard the investiture of Popes and bishops as a right
inherent in the imperial, or even the kingly, dignity.
Henry accompanied his Pope-designate to Italy. He had
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begun to be very anxious about the machinations of Marquess Boniface, and the death of Boniface (1052) had not relieved
his anxiety, for the widow married another of his adversaries, namely Godfrey of Lothringen. After the wedding Godfrey had
returned to his northern domains, and in order to nip rebellion in the bud the Emperor seized the persons of Beatrice and
her daughter Matilda and carried them both off to Germany. Shortly afterwards, in October 1056, he died.
His son, Henry IV, a child of six years, was proclaimed king under the regency of his mother Agnes. In order to use his
long reign of fifty years as a kind of framework wherein to insert sketches of some of the very numerous and varied scenes
that make up the history of Italy of these days it will be well to divide it into four periods.
(1) For six years (from 1056 to 1062) the dowager-empress Agnes holds the regency with ever-increasing difficulty against
many rebellions. Then Anno, Archbishop of Cln, kidnaps his youthful king and makes himself regent. (Agnes retires to a convent
and dies later at Rome.) Then the Bremen archbishop obtains the regency. In 1066 Henry, being now of age, assumes the government
and rules vigorously and despotically, making many enemies. In 1073 there is a great revolt of the Saxons, and Henry is abandoned
by nearly all the German nobles. The cities however (especially the Rhine cities, such as Worms) support him, and after much
bloodshed he at last gains some footing, and might have consolidated his power had he not, perhaps unwisely, taken up the
challenge of the Papacy.
(2) From 1073 to 1084 rages the long and dramatic ‘War of the Investitures’ between Henry and Hildebrand. The
chief events of this period are the humiliation of the excommunicated king--now a young man of twenty-seven--at Canossa in
1077, his victory over his rival, Rudolf of Suabia, and his final triumph and coronation at Rome (1084), followed by the rescue
of the Pope and the sack of Rome by Robert Guiscard and his Normans and Saracens.
(3) From 1085 to 1095 Henry rules his northern dominions
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with some success and, except for a short campaign against Matilda of Tuscany in 1090, when he captures Mantua and other
cities, has scarcely anything to do with Italy.
(4) From 1095 to his death in 1106 Henry’s existence is embittered by the rebellion of his sons. First the elder,
Conrad, is won over by the papal party and the Tuscan court and is crowned at Monza and afterwards in S. Ambrogio at Milan
as King of Italy. Then his younger and well-loved son, Henry--a cold-blooded, calculating wretch--is also seduced by the priests
and Countess Matilda, and after deposing his brother Conrad (who dies in 1101) is joined by most of the South German nobles.
Once more the Rhineland cities prove loyal to the king and the young rebel is induced to crave forgiveness. His father meets
him at Coblenz, embraces him with tears, and trustfully follows him to one of his castles (Bckelheim, in the Nahe valley),
where he is caught, as in a trap, and is forced to promise abdication. He, however, manages to escape, and again collects
forces to oppose his unnatural son; but ere long he dies. The body of the still excommunicated king was buried at Lttich
(Lige), but was ejected thence by the priests and, after resting for a time on an island of the river Maas, was brought to
Speyer, the immense Romanesque cathedral at which place he had lately finished building. For five years (till 1111) the corpse
remained ‘above the earth,’ probably in an upright position, in the side-chapel of St. Afra, but finally the ban
was removed and it was entombed. (44)
Now during the first two of these four periods some very important occurrences took place in various parts of Italy. But
these will be related when we turn our attention to the rise of the Communes and to the story of the coming of the Normans.
Here I shall limit myself to some of the causes and events of the great ‘War of the Investitures.’
The German Pope, Victor II, whom Henry III had nominated
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(1054) had been charitable or politic enough to attempt a reconciliation between the German and the Tuscan courts. The
dowager-Empress Agnes was persuaded to release Countess Beatrice and her daughter Matilda, whom Henry had taken as hostages
to Germany, and to allow Duke Godfrey of Lorraine to return to his wife and stepdaughter at Florence. On Victor’s death
Godfrey’s brother, abbot of Monte Cassino, was made Pope (Stephen IX), and all seemed to promise well. But the Pope
suddenly died at Florence, probably poisoned by agents of the Roman nobility, and these nobles at once elected one of the
Counts of Tusculum (Benedict X). Thereupon Godfrey and Beatrice, with the consent of the Empress and the counsel of monk Hildebrand
and of another zealous reformer and ascetic, Pietro Damiano of Ravenna, (45) chose the Bishop of Florence, who as Pope Nicholas
II established himself successfully at Rome, causing his rival Benedict to take to flight.
Thus the new party of reform led by the untiring energy and zeal of Hildebrand, was now in the ascendant. Nominally the
motive of this party was--as had been the case with the first Cluny reformers, and as it was thirty years later with St. Romuald
and his reformed Benedictines of Camaldoli, and also with the Vallombrosans and Carthusians (46)--indignation against the
gross immorality and simony of the clerics; but in the case of men such as Hildebrand the primary motive was without any doubt
chiefly political. By insisting on celibacy (the worst of all methods for combating immorality) such supporters of the Papacy
hoped to secure the loyalty of a large class that had no other ties and had given no hostages to fortune--staccata,
as Balzani says, da ogni cura d’affetti mondani; and they revolted against lay investiture not merely for such
reasons as have led men to found Free
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Churches, but because the act of investiture was accompanied by the bestowal of benefices (fiefs) which bound the cleric
as feudatory to his imperial overlord. Henry, for instance, in his contest with the Papacy and the higher nobility was able
to look for support to a large number of his bishops and abbots whom he claimed as his direct vassals.
Both Nicholas II and his successor, Alexander II (Bishop Anselm of Lucca), had been elected by the Cardinals without the
sanction of Agnes or Henry. They were nominees of Hildebrand, and by his instigation they passed decrees forbidding the marriage
of clergy and giving the Cardinals, in concert with the clergy and the people of Rome, the sole right to elect Popes. And
when in 1073 Hildebrand himself ascended the papal throne as Gregory VII he did not long hesitate before issuing what was
practically a declaration of war against Henry; for by his council of 1075 he caused to be passed a decree vehemently condemning
as simony investiture by laymen, declaring null the bestowal by King or Emperor of ring and staff, deposing those bishops
who Henry had instituted and excommunicating several of them, as well as certain of Henry’s officials to whom these
prelates had, he alleged, paid money for favouring their appointment.
In great indignation Henry assembled a council of his ecclesiastics at Worms, and, doubtless keenly mindful of the prerogative
claimed and exercised by his own father, sent word to inform Gregory that he was deposed. “Henry, King, not by usurpation,
but by the holy will of God, to Hildebrand, no longer Pope, but a false monk.’ So the letter was addressed; and it ended
thus: ‘I, Henry, King by God’s grace, and all my bishops say to thee: Down, down, thou damned for all eternity
!’
Hildebrand’s answer was excommunication. In his writings he has asserted (47) that the Pope has authority over all
princes of the earth and that he has the power of deposing even
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Emperors: illi licet imperatores deponere. But to display the courage of his opinion in this hitherto unheard-of
fashion was an audacious act. Nevertheless it was astoundingly successful, for the German nobles, glad of the excuse, held
an assembly at Tribur, near Mainz, and informed Henry that unless he obtained remission of the ban within the year (viz. by
February 2, 1077) they would renounce their fealty. There remained but one course open to him. Accompanied by his wife and
by the excommunicated bishops and officials, he crossed the Alps in the depth of winter in order to make his peace with the
pontiff. In Lombardy, it is said, many offered their services, inciting him to resistance; but he was determined to carry
out his resolution, and as a barefoot suppliant clad in sackcloth he arrived at Matilda’s ancestral castle of Canossa
(p. 351), whither Gregory had withdrawn when he had heard of the proffer of help made to the king by the Lombard cities. For
three days Henry and his companions, it is said, were kept waiting amidst the snow outside the portal of the inner court.
When at last he was admitted he threw himself on his knees, and finally received forgiveness and was allowed once more to
taste the sacramental wafer, promising to regard himself as dethroned until re-elected by the nobles and people of the realm.
The contempt of the German nobles at this self-abasement excited again a widespread rebellion, and Rudolf of Suabia, Henry’s
brother-in-law, was proclaimed king. But Henry acted with vigour and courage, and was aided by Frederick of Staufen, the first
notability of that illustrious house, afterwards son-in-law of Henry and duke of Suabia. A battle was fought (October 1080)
at Merseburg, the town near Leipzig already famous for the struggle of Henry I against the Hungarians. Here Rudolf was killed,
it is said, by Godfrey of Bouillon, who was made Duke of Suabia in Rudolf’s stead, and in later days won world-wide
renown as the Crusader che’l gran sepolcro liber di Christo and refused to wear a kingly crown in the city where
the King of Kings had worn a crown of thorns.
These acts had revived Henry’s feud with the Pope, who
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again deposed and excommunicated him, recognizing Rudolf as king. Henry at once responded by holding another council of
his bishops, this time at Mainz, and again deposing Gregory, in whose stead he causes Wibert, Archbishop of Ravenna, to be
elected. After the victory at Merseburg he descended into Italy, assumed the iron crown of Pavia, besieged Rome thrice (his
army suffering much from malaria), and towards the end of 1082 forced his way into the Leonine quarter. Gregory took refuge
in the mighty stronghold of the Castle of S. Angelo. In 1083 Henry crossed the Tiber, seized the Lateran, and summoned all
the nobles and clerics of Rome (including Gregory, who did not appear) to a council, which confirmed the elections of Wibert
as Pope; and at Easter of the year 1084 in St. Peter’s basilica this new Pope, known generally as the Antipope Clement,
crowned Henry and his queen Bertha as Emperor and Empress.
All this time Pope Gregory was safely ensconced in the huge fortress of S. Angelo and was waiting for succour. This succour
he expected, and not vainly, from the Normans, who had by this time under various leaders, and especially under Robert Guiscard,
established themselves permanently in South Italy and had become a formidable power. They had, as will be remembered, totally
defeated Leo IX and had made him prisoner. But a few years later (1060) Pope Nicholas II seems to have sanctioned the usurpations
and conquests of the Northmen and to have made promises of investing them with the sovranty of Calabria and even of Sicily--as
soon as they could conquer it from the Saracens--and in 1080 Robert Guiscard, invested as Duke of Apulia and Calabria by Hildebrand,
had sworn fealty to him as his feudatory and had confirmed the claims of the Papacy to Benevento.
This clever stroke of papal policy had made the Normans a mainstay of the Papacy. It might well be asked by what right
the Popes claimed to be overlords of the Apulian and Calabrian duchies--to say nothing of Sicily, which was still in the power
of the Saracens. But, even if their right was founded on nothing more solid than the fictitious Donation
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of Constantine, the result of their diplomacy was real enough: for in response to Gregory’s despairing appeal Robert
Guiscard marched on Rome with about 40,000 men, among whom were many Saracen mercenaries. Three days before his arrival Henry
had prudently withdrawn northwards, promising to return with a large army. The Normans forced their way into the city and
it was given over to pillage (May 1084). On no former occasion, it is said, did Rome suffer so terribly from its captors.
The destruction of innumerable monuments and of many fine churches (S. Clemente among them) is attributed to Robert Guiscard’s
Saracens. As for Pope Gregory, he was released from his long confinement in the Mole of Hadrian, but found it advisable to
leave Rome with his rescuers, and died during the next year at Salerno. His last words are often quoted by his admirers: dilexi
justitiam, odi iniquitatem; propterea morior in exilio. The assertion does not seem remarkably original or remarkably
true.
During the third period of Henry’s reign (1085-95) only a few events took place that need here be chronicled. At
Rome there were, as so often, constantly recurring disorders caused by the never-ending broils between the various clerical
and lay factions. The facts given in the List of Popes will perhaps suffice as an index to these disturbances. The election
of Urban II, a French monk of Cluny and Bishop of Ostia, who vigorously forwarded the policy of Hildebrand, is noticeable
both on account of his impious instigation of Conrad against his father and because of the fame that he has acquired by his
advocacy of the first Crusade. Three years after his election he was for a time forced to flee from Rome because, when Henry
undertook a successful raid on Tuscany, the Romans, fearing his vengeance, made themselves masters of S. Angelo and invited
the Antipope Clement to return. But Clement’s triumph was brief, and in 1093 Urban resumed his seat on the throne of
the Lateran. Other and perhaps more important occurrences, which will be related in a subsequent chapter, were the brilliant
exploits of Robert Guiscard and his Normans in Dalmatia, his death in 1085, and the final overthrow of the
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Saracens and the conquest of Sicily by his brother, Count Roger, in 1091.
Of the fourth period (1095-1106) the most momentous event--one of almost world-wide influence--was doubtless the first
Crusade. It affected Italy more than Germany, where, says Mller, ‘one gazed astounded at the savage hordes of hermits
streaming past,’ and where the deplorable feud between Henry and his sons prevented any large participation in the wild
enthusiasm aroused by the preaching of Peter of Amiens; but Italy itself was not swept by the tornado that half-depopulated
France. (48) Although several Popes, among them the German Leo IX, had expressed the longing to liberate Christ’s sepulchre,
the proposal to realize the design, being evidently due to the French reformers of Cluny, had perhaps failed to inspire the
Italians when at Piacenza and afterwards at Clermont Urban the Frenchman proclaimed the Crusade. Possibly too in the Communes,
such as Genoa, Pisa, and Venice, the anxiety for their vastly extended trade chilled the ardour of fanaticism. Perhaps also
the near presence of the Moslems in Sicily and the hostility of the Normans against the Eastern Emperor (who sent envoys to
the Council of Piacenza to beg help against the Turks) checked the movement in South Italy. But not a few Italian Normans
did join in the Crusade, among whom Bohemund, Guiscard’s eldest son, was conspicuous, and Italy gave valuable aid in
transporting immense numbers of Crusaders, who passed through Rome and took ship at Bari, and were consternated at the state
of heathen savagery that they found in the metropolis of Christianity.
We now pass to the reign of Henry V. His relations with the Papacy were at first apparently friendly, but ere long he too
found that the right of investiture, which secured him the fealty of his bishops, was indispensable, and as Pope Paschal obstinately
refused to concede this right, the king crossed the Alps (1110) with his army. The Lombard towns, except
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Milan and Pavia, acknowledged him, and even at Florence he was received by the Countess Matilda, who some twenty years
before, at the age of forty-three, had taken as second husband a young man of eighteen--the heir of the Bavarian ducal family
of the Welfs, or Guelfs, who were resolute allies of the Popes and adversaries of the Franconian Emperors. (49)
Pope Paschal was in difficulties. He could look for help neither to Matilda and her Tuscans nor to the Normans of South
Italy, who were just then under the rule of the weak and sickly William, grandson of Robert Guiscard. He therefore agreed
to sign a compact by which the Church should renounce the temporal while retaining the ecclesiastical rights of investiture,
and consented to crown Henry as Emperor. But when the document was read to the clerics and nobles assembled to view the coronation
in St. Peter’s a violent tumult arose, and Henry found it advisable to make prisoners of the Pope and sixteen cardinals
and take them off to Tivoli. Finally Pope Paschal yielded. He signed a Privilegium by which he conceded to the king
the right of investiture ‘with ring and staff,’ and in April 1111 the coronation that had been so roughly interrupted
was consummated.
Henry V was now at the acme of his good fortune, and he strengthened his influence by marrying (1113) an English princess--Maud,
or Matilda, daughter of Henry I, who afterwards became the wife of Geoffrey Plantagenet and the mother of Henry II of England.
In 1115 Countess Matilda died, at the age of sixty-nine. Her juvenile husband had left her long ago, and she had no legal
heir. She left almost all her possessions to the Roman Church. But, whatever right she may have had to bequeath her freehold
(allodial) property, she certainly had none to
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bequeath to any but a legal heir the hereditary fiefs that he held (illegally, it was affirmed, being a woman and a rebel)
as a feudatory of the crown. And even if we assume that her title as independent ruler was confirmed by the Tuscan people,
she assuredly had not the power to hand over the country, with or without sovran rights, to the Popes, or to anybody else.
The Legacy however brought good as well as evil in its train, for, although Tuscany was hereafter much worried and mauled
by Popes and Emperors, several of the Tuscan cities used the opportunity to throw off their vassalage and to declare themselves
independent. The history of the Florentine republic begins with the death of Countess Matilda.
In 1117, as these Tuscan cities refused to receive Henry’s Vicars and as Pope Paschal had recanted his Privilegium,
the king again crossed the Alps with an army. He seems to have feared to attack the allied Communes, and made straight for
Rome, determined to exact not only a confirmation of his privileges but also a repetition of the ceremony of coronation. Pope
Paschal however had taken flight. Henry therefore induced a cardinal to crown him, and departed. But on the death of Paschal
he came hurrying back and caused this cardinal (Burdino) to be elected Pope--or rather Antipope, for the Roman people had
already elected Gelasius II. Great tumults ensued. Finally, Gelasius having died in exile at Cluny, an able and resolute anti-imperialist
was consecrated by the cardinals assembled at Vienne, in France. This Pope, who was Archbishop of Vienne and related to the
French king and to Henry, took the name of Calixtus II. He forthwith excommunicated Henry’s Antipope and also Henry
himself, and this bold move was successful, for the Antipope came to a pitiable end (50) and Henry, wearied out by opposition
at home and abroad, at last accepted the agreement (Concordat) drawn up by a Council held at Worms in 1122.
By the terms of the Concordat Henry V renounced the right
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of electing prelates and investing them ‘with ring and staff.’ His envoy was allowed to be present at the investiture;
but this was an empty form. He was also allowed to bestow by a touch of his sceptre, the temporalities--that is, to give over
the lands and revenues of the office to the newly elected dignitary--often no very valuable kingly privilege. Altogether kingship
was a considerable loser by this Concordat. The demesnes of the great nobles were originally conquered or confiscated lands
for which, as being a loan (Lehen), they owed fealty to the crown; but by letting out estates to tenants (subinfeudation)
or promising protection in return for vassalage (a process called recommandation) these great nobles had secured
a very large class of private vassals, who professed to owe no fealty to the king. This state of things was energetically
opposed by the German kings (as also by our Norman kings), but with small success. They therefore relied to a great extent
on the bishops and other Church dignitaries whom they elected, and who were their feudatories in virtue of the vast ecclesiastical
benefices which composed a great deal of the landed property in the realm. But by the Worms Concordat the king lost the power
of electing men devoted to his interests, and the kingly power suffered greatly from this extension of papal prerogative.
(51)
(5) THE HOHENSTAUFEN EMPERORS
Both Calixtus and Henry V died not long after the Concordat of Worms. Henry was childless, and once more the nobles (most
of whom were glad enough to exercise their powers as electors and thus protest against a hereditary kingship) assembled at
Tribur. Frederick of Staufen, son of the Frederick who had been made Duke of Suabia by Henry IV
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and had married his daughter, was the foremost claimant; but the Concordat was already bearing its fruit, and the archbishops
together with the anti-imperial nobles succeeded in rejecting both Frederick and his brother Conrad as being ‘too full
of the Waibling spirit.’ A devoted son of the Church, the former leader of the Saxon and Welf rebels, was chosen, Lothair
(Lothar) by name. Frederick at first refused to give up certain royal demesnes which he claimed through his mother, but finally
the Staufen family agreed to recognize the new king--not however until Conrad had been recognized as King of Italy and Emperor-designate
by the people of Milan (1130) and had been crowned with the iron crown at Monza. In 1133 Lothair went to Rome. Here there
had been, as so often, serious disturbances caused by the elections of rival Popes. One was Innocent II, the nominee of the
powerful family of the Frangipani; the other was Anacletus, of the old Jewish-Roman family of the Pierleoni, monk of Cluny
and disciple of the famous Abelard of Paris. Anacletus had gained the mastery at Rome and Innocent had fled to France, where
he was strongly supported by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who was a vehement opponent of Abelard and his teachings. St. Bernard
was commissioned by Louis of France to decide between the rival Popes, and naturally enough decided against Anacletus. But
force was needed in order to restore Innocent, and the orthodox Lothair undertook the task, and incidentally had himself crowned
Emperor at Rome by Pope Innocent (1133). His pious gratitude for this favour induced him to accept investiture from the Pope
for his sovran rights over the quondam territories of Matilda--thus acknowledging the validity of Matilda’s Legacy and
degrading himself to a vassal of the Papacy.
Roger the Norman of Sicily, who had proclaimed himself king in 1130, had been recognized by Anacletus, but not by Innocent.
He now began to make himself master of the south of Italy, and Innocent appealed to Lothair, who came with his army and with
Genoese and Pisan ships, and, being aided by the revolted cities of Naples and Capua, was able to chase
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Roger back to Sicily. But ere long Lothair and his army disappeared northwards, and when news came of his death (he died
in December 1137, soon after crossing the Alps) Roger returned and not only reconquered all that he had lost, but defeated
and captured Innocent and by generous treatment gained at last the confirmation of his kingly title.
The Welf Duke of Bavaria and Saxony, Henry the Proud, to whom Lothair had given over in mesne-tenure the territories of
Matilda, and who was thus master of a vast realm, expected to be elected king and had already possessed himself of the royal
insignia. But once more the German people shrank from choosing a too powerful candidate and from perpetuating the claims of
either rival house. Even before the diet met at Tribur the Waiblinger, Conrad of Staufen, was proclaimed and crowned, and
Duke Henry found it advisable to surrender the insignia; and ere long he had to surrender also his Saxon duchy, for the fierce
outbursts of the Welf and Waibling feud that distracted the nation during these years ended at last in favour of Conrad.
Amid such disturbances it was not likely that Conrad III should have much to do with Italy; but it will be remembered that
while competing with Lothair for the German crown he had succeeded, although he was excommunicated, in persuading the Archbishop
of Milan to crown him with the iron crown, as King of Italy and Emperor-designate. It was therefore naturally his ambition
to realize his claims to these titles, and later we shall find him attempting to do so. Meanwhile however Rome again claims
our attention.
The republican movement, which was already effecting great results in the north of Italy, had been seriously counteracted
in the south by the conquests of the Normans. In Rome itself, although fiercely suppressed by powerful families, such as those
of the Tusculan counts, the Crescenzi and the Frangipani, and by such Popes as were the tools of the aristocratic and the
imperialistic factions, the spirit of liberty had asserted itself so far that the civil government of the city was already
to a great extent that of a Commune,
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the army, divided into twelve scholae corresponding to the twelve divisions of Rome, being together with its twelve
commanders (banderisi) under popular control. But a sudden and violent outburst of feeling was now to develop Rome
for a time into a full-blown republic. The little town of Tibur (Tivoli), whose love of freedom had deeply annoyed the freedom-lovers
in Rome, had been mastered, but obstinately refused to submit to the Roman people, on the ground that the Pope was the one
supreme Roman authority; and when Pope Innocent publicly supported this theory a revolution took place: the Republic was proclaimed,
the Prefecture abolished, and the senate, reconstructed mainly of burghers instead of the patricians, was installed on the
Capitol. (52) In the same year (1143) Innocent died, and also his successor, Celestin II. The next Pope, Lucius II, received
a fatal blow from a stone while attempting to storm the Capitol at the head of a band of nobles; his successor, Eugenius III,
elected during the very same day, had to flee from Rome. (53) As Consul or chief senator of the new republic was chosen Giordano,
apparently a renegade member of the aristocratic family of the Pierleoni, for he was, it is said, a brother of the Antipope
Anacletus. Under his presidency the resuscitated Roman Republic seems to have established itself on a fairly firm basis, from
which even the combined efforts of Barbarossa and Breakspear failed to dislodge it. To judge from its coinage, in its earlier
days it recognized the Emperor as its overlord, but allowed
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the Pope no part in the government, insisting that he should renounce all temporal power and content himself with tithes
and oblations.
This revolution was formerly believed to have been incited and led by Arnold of Brescia; but it seems certain that, although
his doctrines had already spread through the whole of Italy (54) and doubtless exercised very great influence on the Roman
republicans, he himself was not present in 1143, since he first came to Rome in 1145.
Arnold, a native of Brescia, had studied under Abelard at Paris and had imbibed intense enthusiasm for ancient Rome and
for republican liberty. On his return to Italy he became friar and preached fervidly against all forms of tyranny, and especially
against the temporal power of the Popes, his favourite text being apostolic poverty, such as St. Benedict praised when Dante
met him in heaven:
Pier comincio senz’ oro e senz’ argento,
Ed io con orazione e con digiuno.
But Arnold’s eloquence was received coldly, even in Brescia, and he returned to France, where his master Abelard
was succumbing under the attacks of St. Bernard; and the angry saint, having crushed the heresiarch, turned on the disciple.
Arnold was expelled, and seems to have spent some years, perhaps as a teacher, in Zurich--afterwards the home of a more successful
theologian, Zwingli. In 1145 we find him in Rome, where his political theories were being largely put into practice. For ten
years his zeal and learning inspired and guided the young republic, and, had his highest ideal been realized--the ideal of
a truly apostolic Papacy, enthroned far above all greed of worldly wealth and power--how many centuries of misery would Italy,
and humanity, have been spared ! But the cowardly vacillation of Conrad and the blind policy of Barbarossa in his earlier
days, exploited by the overweening ambition of an English Pope, frustrated what might
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have proved a more salutary and radical reformation than that of Luther’s age.
In 1147 the second Crusade, due greatly to the preaching of St. Bernard, attracted a million fighters from Western Europe.
It created more enthusiasm in Germany than the first Crusade had done, and Conrad III finally determined to join it. For two
years he was in the East, and it is interesting to note that in his retinue were two warriors whose names awake in our minds
two very vivid but very different trains of reminiscence. One of these was his nephew, the young Frederick of Staufen (Barbarossa),
who many years afterwards returned, as a Crusader, to these Eastern lands and died there. The other was an ancestor of Dante--his
great-grandfather, Cacciaguida--who when he met the poet in the heaven of Mars (Par. xv) told him that on earth he
had ‘followed the Emperor Conrad,’ who ‘begirt him of his chivalry,’ i.e. knighted him.
But this ‘imperador Currado’ was never crowned Emperor. When, in 1149, he returned from the East the Roman
senators, possibly on the advice of Arnold, sent him several grandiloquent epistles. The last of these, which is interlarded
with barbarous hexameters, addressed him as “Lord of the City and the whole World; and as ‘King of the Romans’
and ‘Augustus,’ and besought him to come and re-establish the glories of the Roman Empire as it was under Constantine
and Justinian, before it was ruined by the Popes and the nobles. It intimated also, rightly enough, that the Roman people,
and not the Pope, was the true donor of the imperial dignity.
But Conrad hesitated. He had neither the wisdom nor the courage to accept the offer. At length he wrote that he would
come ‘to re-establish order, to strengthen the loyalty of his friends and to punish rebels’--a somewhat ambiguous
reply, which filled the republican party with apprehensions. And these apprehensions were greatly increased when it was heard
that Conrad had made overtures to pope Eugenius, who had come back from France and had been for the last three years wandering
about from place to place in Latium.
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Finally Conrad, having overmastered certain troublesome Welf insurgents in Germany, wrote--not to the Senate, which he
ignored, but to the newly reinstituted Prefect and other magistrates--and made known his intention of visiting Rome and being
crowned, not by senatorial delegates, but by the Pope. This intention was, however, not carried out, for he died in February
of 1152, before the preparations for his journey were complete.
Conrad left a son only eight years old. He therefore recommended the electors to choose his nephew and fellow-Crusader,
Frederick of Staufen, now thirty-one years of age. Frederick’s policy as regards Italy was soon revealed. When the Roman
Senate sent him, as they had sent Conrad, a turgid epistle intimating that the S.P.Q.R. would be proud to invest him with
the title of Emperor, he answered that his forefathers had won that title by arms and ‘let him who dares try to wrest
the club from Hercules.’ He was determined to slay the hydra of republican liberty. He then wrote to Pope Eugenius,
who answered inflaming his wrath still more against these insolent senators and undertook to crown him if he came and subjected
Rome, as he had promised, to the Empire and to the Holy Church. Nor did Frederick delay his coming long. As soon as he had
established his authority firmly in his northern dominions--had bestowed the crowns of Denmark and Bohemia and had annexed
Burgundy--he crossed the Alps and in November 1154 held a great diet of all his Italian feudatories, lay and cleric, on the
plain of Roncaglia, not far from Piacenza. True to his policy, he took severe measures against the growing independence of
the Lombard cities; and ‘envy, the bane of republics,’ stood him in good stead, for grievous jealousies and strife
had already arisen between them, and some eagerly seized the opportunity of accusing their rivals. Milan especially was bitterly
assailed by less flourishing and more imperialistic cities, such as its neighbour Pavia, and incurred Frederick’s fiercest
displeasure by refusing him his regalian rights (e.g. custom-dues, coinage, food for his soldiers, and so on) and inciting
resistance when
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he attempted to abolish the consul and other republican magistrates and to impose German governors (Podest) with
dictatorial powers. He deemed it inadvisable to attack Milan itself, but vented his wrath by demolishing two of its allies--little
Tortona, which stood a siege heroically for two months (and was soon rebuilt by the Milanese), and Asti, famous in a later
age for its wine and for Alfieri.
Meantime Pope Eugenius and also his successor had died, and the Englishman Breakspear (Hadrian IV) had ascended the papal
throne. His pride and impetuosity (which ere he died made him confess that the most miserable mortal on earth was a Pope)
were soon in evidence. A cardinal had been attacked in the street--perhaps by anti-clerical republicans. Hadrian, who knew
that Frederick would soon be there to aid him, forthwith does what no Pope had ever ventured to do--he lays the whole city
under interdict. No religious functions are permitted save baptism and last sacrament. So terrified are the Romans that even
the senators finally entreat pardon; and they gain it by the expulsion of Arnold of Brescia, who wanders as a fugitive from
place to place, dreading the vengeance of the English pontiff, while Hadrian enthrones himself triumphantly in the Lateran.
And now Frederick, ‘smoking with the blood of the Lombard Communes,’ appears before the gates of Rome. Arnold
is betrayed and handed over by the Emperor to the Pope, and by the Pope to the Prefect, who has him hanged and burnt. The
Senate, imagining that by this dastardly act the grace of the German monarch has been secured, sends to his camp a message
of fulsome flattery and proposes once more to bestow on him the title of Emperor. But the envoys are disdainfully dismissed
and Frederick marches his soldiery into the Leonine quarter and occupies St. Peter’s basilica’ and here Pope Hadrian,
a few days after he has handed over Arnold to the gallows and the pyre, lays the imperial diadem on the head of his benefactor
(June 1155).
But this unnatural alliance--this puttaneggiar co’ regi--was bound to prove short-lived. A very serious fight
had taken place, on and near the S. Angelo bridge, after the corona-
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tion. About a thousand Roman citizens had been killed or drowned. Intense indignation prevailed, and Frederick found it
advisable to escape from Rome and hurry northwards, leaving the Pope and his cardinals safely deposited in Tivoli. It was
with difficulty that he forced his way through his disaffected Italian dominions, and when once more at home he began to revise
his policy. He had already been angered by the papal claims to Tuscany (Matilda’s territories), and by the fact that
Hadrian, like several of his predecessors, had sought to strengthen himself by alliance with the Norman depredators and usurpers,
and had even presumed to act as overlord of South Italy and Sicily and to invest Roger’s son, William the Bad, with
kingship. But worse was to follow. Ignoring the Concordat of Worms, Frederick had begun to appoint his own German bishops.
Hadrian protested, and in his letter alluded to the late coronation as the bestowal by himself of the beneficium (fief)
of the Empire, implying that Frederick was his feudatory. Hereupon took place a great outburst of indignation. The papal friendship
was flung to the winds, and with a powerful army and a number of lay and clerical jurists Frederick again (July 1158) crossed
the Alps, in order to chastise the insubordinate Communes (55) and to decide once for all his rights as Emperor in regard
to Popes and republics. Milan was forced to surrender, and its citizens, together with their archbishop and their consuls,
had to present themselves as barefoot and ash-strewn suppliants with cords round their necks, and when the ensigns on their
Carroccio were lowered in obeisance the whole multitude sank on their knees and begged for mercy.
The conclusions arrived at by Frederick’s lawyers assembled at Roncaglia were drawn mainly from antiquated Justinian
definitions and gave the Emperor an authority incompatible with constitutional government. Moreover, very unjust distinctions
were made, some cities receiving much liberty and
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others being enslaved. But the humiliation of Milan had cowed resistance. One brave little town, Crema, alone defied the
German despot, and after a siege (56) of six months was taken and demolished.
The break with Frederick now induced the Papacy to form another unnatural alliance. Though in Rome it was a deadly foe
to republican freedom, it was keen-witted enough to sue the friendship of the northern Communes and to support them against
the common enemy. On Hadrian’s decease in 1150 a Pope not less strong-willed and ambitious had been elected by the clerical
party. But great tumults had ensued, and Alexander III was so successfully opposed by the Antipope Victor, elected by Roman
imperialists, that he had to flee to France, and to console himself by futile excommunication of both the Antipope and the
Emperor. Thus for the present the cause of the Communes was not aided by the papal alliance, and when Frederick in 1161, irritated
by the reviving impudence of Milan, laid siege to that city no succour arrived. After a long and heroic resistance it was
taken (1162), and, as was to be expected, it was almost totally destroyed and depopulated (57)--a fated that it had suffered
more than once in days long past.
But freedom’s banner streams like the thunder-storm against the wind. Driven to despair, the North Italian cities,
led by the now powerful and independent Venice, began to combine, and when towards the end of 1163 Frederick for the third
time made a descent upon Italy he found it advisable to beat a retreat. Three years later he returned with a larger army;
but meanwhile the League, (58) newly constituted by Venice, Verona, Padua, and Vicenza, had extended itself through
INSERT FIG 32
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Lombardy and was being joined even by cities, such as Cremona, that hitherto had been imperialistic. Moreover, at Rome
the imperial cause was waning. Victor, Frederick’s Antipope, had died, and although the imperial faction had forthwith
elected another (Paschal), the fugitive Pope Alexander III had returned from France and had expelled the rival pontiff.
Frederick thought it best to strike first at Rome. He therefore left the northern cities unmolested, and having reduced
Ancona (a strategical position necessary to cover his advance) he pushed southwards, and in the height of an exceedingly hot
and pestilential summer (1167) he entered the Leonine quarter. But the Romans showed fight, and the Germans were unable to
force their way across the Tiber into the city or even to capture S. Angelo. It was as much as they could do to occupy St.
Peter’s with troops while Antipope Paschal went through the ceremony of crowning Frederick’s consort as Empress.
And they had been hardly a fortnight in Rome when a virulent malarial epidemic, or perhaps the plague, broke out, and Frederick
hastily led his army northwards. Many of his retinue, nobles and generals and prelates, fell victims to the pestilence, and
about 2000 of his fighting men; nor did the mortality cease for some time after Germany was reached. (59)
Pavia was almost the only large Lombard town that had not joined the League. It proved a constant annoyance to Milan, which
had been rebuilt and refortified in an incredibly short time by the enthusiasm of the allies (60). In order to check Pavia
also from the south the town of Alessandria was now built, and in a short time could furnish 15,000 fighters. Its name signalized
the friendship of Pope Alexander, but it received from its enemies the contemptuous sobriquet of the ‘city of straw’--in
allusion to its supposed frailty or to its hastily
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erected straw-roofed houses. Frail it certainly proved itself not to be, for when, after a pause of six years, Frederick
made his fifth descent on Italy and attempted to capture this city of straw he was compelled to withdraw his troops after
five months of ineffectual siege, and shortly afterwards he was totally defeated by the allies at Legnano, some twelve miles
north-east of Milan. So overwhelming was the catastrophe that Frederick himself disappeared in the general rout, and is said
to have reached Pavia with great difficulty three days after the battle.
This disaster made Frederick realize the impotence of fury and inhumanity in a contest with those who were ready to die
for liberty. His nature, too, was not so wholly cruel and ignoble that he could not feel some admiration for heroism. He agreed
on the proposal of Doge Ziani to meet at Venice not only Pope Alexander and envoys from William the Good of Sicily, but even
delegates from the allied cities. This was the first time that republican envoys had ever met a Pope or an Emperor on equal
terms. It was therefore an event that promised great things. Perhaps it was the most momentous crisis that ever occurred in
Italian history. Alas that so fair a promise should have been frustrated by those intestine feuds which caused Italy to ‘cast
away the pearl of great price, and sacrifice even the recollections of that liberty which had stalked as a majestic spirit
among the ruins of Milan.’ (61)
The meeting of Frederick Barbarossa and Pope Alexander at Venice in the summer of 1777 has been described so often (sometimes
without any reference to Legnano and the delegates of the Lombard republics !) that it may here be passed over lightly. In
the Atrio of St. Mark’s three porphyry slabs in the pavement are believed to commemorate the splendid and dramatic
function; but it doubtless took place as described by an eye-witness, (62) outside or under the great portal. The results
of the Venetian conference were the deposition of Calixtus (the third of Frederick’s Antipopes), a peace of fifteen
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years with William of Sicily, and a truce of six years with the Lombard republics. Moreover an agreement, of no very satisfactory
and permanent nature, was patched up in regard to the vexed question of the Matilda Legacy. Pope Alexander re-entered Rome
in triumph, greeted by the homage and enthusiasm of all parties. (63) Frederick returned to Germany and for the next seven
years enjoyed peace and the loyal reverence of his northern subjects, while by a generous compact with the Lombard cities,
which he signed at Constanz in 1183 and by which he granted them many privileges, he so won their affection that Alessandria
even offered to change its name to Caesarea ! Striking evidence of his prosperity too is afforded by the descriptions that
chroniclers have given of a magnificent festivity held in 1184 at Mainz--a veritable Field of Cloth of Gold. His last visit
to Italy was a character very different from his former expeditions. Without an army he journeyed from city to city, welcomed
and honoured everywhere. For Milan he showed special affection, and he undertook to rebuild heroic little Crema. Adsit
omen !
In 1186 there was celebrated at Milan a very momentous wedding. William II, the King of Sicily, was childless, so he agreed
that his elderly aunt and heiress Constance (Costanza), daughter of the late King Roger, should marry Frederick’s son
Henry, a young man of twenty-one. Thus the long enmity of the Normans and Germans was ended, and the Hohenstaufen monarchs
added Sicily and South Italy to their Empire.
In 1187 Jerusalem was recaptured by the Turks, and in 1189 Frederick, now sixty-eight years of age, joined Richard of England
(64) and Philippe Auguste of France in the third Crusade. Before reaching the Holy Land he was drowned in attempting to swim
across the river Salef, not far from the Cydnus, in which Alexander the Great nearly lost his life. For
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centuries the belief prevailed in Germany that the great Kaiser had never really died, but that he was sleeping beneath
his castle on the Kyffhuser mount and would some day awake and restore the Empire--a tradition that Rckert has versified
in a fine ballad. The character of Frederick as displayed in what we know of his life, is difficult for us to appraise, and
perhaps the verdict of Dante, which was probably the verdict of his age, only increases our difficulty; for, though in his
Inferno he assigns the second Frederick the fiery sepulchre of a heretic, he speaks of il buon Barbarossa. But his
expression, it should be added, some commentators regard as ironical.
As a framework, reigns and dynasties are often useful, and the history of medieval Italy has so little inner consistency
that it needs the framework afforded by the reigns and dynasties of its invaders and its alien, especially its German, masters.
But in some cases the periods into which German history falls do not correspond with those which are convenient in the case
of Italy. The Hohenstaufen dynasty continued to rule in Italy for more than half a century, but such events as the recognition
of the republics by the treaty of Constanz and the merging of the Norman kingship in that of the German monarchs by the marriage
of Constance with Henry VI initiated a new period in Italian history and render it advisable to make a break here, at the
death of Barbarossa in 1190.
1 His epitaph is to be seen in S. Ambrogio.
2 This was done solely with consent of the nobles of the realm and without any reference to Pope Leo III, whose shameless
insistence on Constantine’s Donation and whose extravagant interpretation of that of Pipin had evidently annoyed Charles.
The Emperor himself set the crown on his son’s head, or he perhaps bade him take it from the altar and set it on his
own head--'a significant hint,' says Gregorovius, ‘for all his successors.’
4 That there were among the Popes some vigorous and wise rulers, and a few really good men, will become evident as we proceed;
but no words can state too forcibly that the ideals of the Roman pontiffs were not those of the Founder of Christianity. History
has to regard the medieval papacy, not as a Christian influence, but as a purely temporal power, and one that possessed unfair
advantages by its hold on the superstitions of humanity.
5 A few years later (871) the ‘Emperor’ Louis II, after capturing Bari from the Saracens, was himself captured,
together with his queen and retinue, by the Duke of Benevento, who held him a prisoner for a month and made him swear never
again to enter the duchy. This ‘unheard-of profanation’ of the sanctity of the imperial dignity, as Gregorovius
from his Teutonic standpoint regards it, seems to have excited much ridicule and not a little malicious jubilation among the
many Italian enemies of the Frankish-Roman Empire. For a popular ballad composed on this occasion see Part V, ch. iv. It is
worthy of remark that just before this ‘profanation’ took place Louis had answered a sneering letter from the
Eastern ‘Emperor’ (who refused to acknowledge his titles) by a slashing attack on the claims of the Byzantine
‘Roman Emperors’ and a vehement assertion of his own rights. ‘Know thou,’ he writes, ‘that if
We were not Imperator Romanorum We could not be Imperator Francorum; for from the Romans We received this name and this dignity.’
6 Portus, on the north outlet of the Tiber, had for centuries outrivalled the old Ostia on the south arm,
but its access to the sea had got choked and Ostia was again used. Gregory’s New Ostia lies behind the ruins of the
ancient town. The Portus arm was reopened in 1612 and Ostia was again deserted; but Porto is now a mile and a half from the
seashore, where there is the fashionable bathing-place Fiumicino.
7 A year or so after this Saracen scare the general consternation was increased by an earthquake and then by the great
Incendio del Borgo, which annihilated the wooden dwellings of the Saxons and Lombards and destroyed the portico of
St. Peter’s. It was stayed by Leo--whom, in Raffael’s fresco one sees making the sign of the Cross. By the way,
Ethelwulf and his little son Alfred (later King Alfred) spent a year in Rome about 853-54, and contributed liberally to the
rebuilding of the Saxon quarters.
8 Pope John VIII tried to rival Leo IV by building walls to include S. Paolo fuori le mura and by calling the new quarter
Johannipolis--but walls and name soon disappeared.
9 A rival still existed in the person of Boson, Duke of Vienne, who, favoured by Pope John VIII, had founded a new kingship
in Provence and South Burgundy, with the city of Arles as capital. He married a granddaughter of Lothair I, and his son, Louis
II, afterwards became ‘Emperor’ for a brief space.
10 Friuli (i.e. Forum Julii), in the north-east corner of Italy, was made by Alboin into a Lombard duchy with Cividale
as its capital. It was made into a mark (marquisate) by Charles the Great, and extended to the Adige. What claims Berengar
had to be regarded as ‘Italian’ it is difficult to say. According to Villari (but not Gregorovius and others),
Berengar was not elected king till Arnulf’s death in 899.
11. It was an ill return that he made by annihilating their camp on the Garigliano a few years later (see p. 319).
12 It is noticeable that at first Berengar himself did homage to Arnulf for the Italian crown.
13 For these Magyars or Hungarians see Index. The modern Hungarians are descended from them and not, as some assert, from
the Huns.
14 He had risen early to attend Mass at a church near to his palace--doubtless the little church of SS. Siro e Libera,
still existing near the remains of Theoderic’s palace.
15 The Papacy, regarded as a temporal power possessing often an enormous advantage in the recognition of its spiritual
pretensions, cannot, of course, be ignored even by those who find it impossible to accept transmission of spiritual prerogatives
in the face of such facts as the most atrocious crimes and the most shameful vice--the throne of Christ’s vicar seized
on by murderers--the pazza bestialit (as Villari calls it) of many of the Popes who made the Lateran a den of assassins
and fornicators--a state of things that lasted intermittently for centuries and was such that no wonder all heaven blushed
fiery red at St. Peter’s passionate invective, reported by Dante.
16 Ermengard is said to have fascinated and befooled Rudolf himself, who, according to Gregorovius, was ‘transformed
into a whining adorer, while the new Circe with a contemptuous laugh took the Lombard crown from his head and gave it over
to her stepbrother.’
17 Stephen VI and John X are known to have been strangled. Leo V and Christopher were deposed and probably murdered. The
fates of Anastasius III and Lando were, says Gregorovius, ‘probably tragic and terrible’; nor can we feel certain
that it was not so with Theodorus II, Boniface VI, Benedict IV, Leo VI, Stephen VII, and with the bastard of Pope Sergius
and Marozia, John XI, who--a mere youth--reigned only about four years. Of the other half-dozen nonentities who were made
Popes by Alberich, certainly Stephen VIII came to a tragic and shameful end, and not much later Alberich’s son, Pope
John XII, was found under disgraceful circumstances in company with a married woman, and was so cudgelled that he soon after
died (p. 338).
18 Of unknown parentage. Some have believed that, like Ermengard, she was related to the wild strain of Waldrada.
19 He purposely spilt a cup of wine, or water, over the king.
20 We hear no more of her, nor of any demand by Hugo for her release.
21 The Tribunal often held its sittings in the Aula ad lupam in the Lateran, so called from the Capitoline She-wolf,
which in this age was preserved there.
22 Most of the Benedictine monasteries had not become ’dens of vice,’ and to copy out the old Rule was mere
‘waste of paper,’ as St. Benedict said to Dante when they met in Paradise. The Cluny reformers did something,
but no general reform took place till the founding of the Camaldoli Order of White Benedictines by Romuald about 1010. It
was the immense wealth and the territorial authority of these princely abbots that Alberich wished to reform quite as much
as their morals.
23 A noble named Attus (Azzo) seems to have helped her to escape. He was owner of Canossa Castle, of later fame.
24 See especially in Count Balzani’s Cronache italiane the account given by Luidprand, Bishop of Cremona,
who was present and acted as Otto’s interpreter at the Council at which Pope John was deposed. Luidprand (c. 920-70)
is the great authority for this epoch. He wrote a Historia Ottonis besides other works on the period 888-962. For the
dark and perplexing period of the Carolingians and the ‘Italian’ monarchs we have very little but the Liber
Pontificalis and untrustworthy monastic chroniclers.
25 Then near the Lateran, now on the capitol. Called in the Middle Ages the ‘horse of Constantine’ (see p.
341).
26 He remained there 120 days and was very disdainfully treated, if we may believe all the he says in his Account of
the Embassy to Constantinople. Phocas was especially indignant because the Pope had addressed him as Imperator Graecorum.
27 Some of these interminable disorders are briefly noted in the List of Popes, p. 379. To recount them here at all fully
is impossible.
28 Except, it is said, a Slavonian, who did not betray him.
29 Otto the Great is regarded, still more than his father Henry, as the establisher of the German Empire and of
all the is essentially deutsch, including literature. The Germans were first in his reign officially called Deutsche,
i.e. ‘the [elect] people.’ See p. 159 n. Southern culture was at this time being rapidly introduced
into Germany. Even school-girls, we are told, were taught to read Virgil and Terence.
30 He was killed at Gnesen, which is now in Prussia. His tomb is in the cathedral, founded about 1000.
31 St. Bartholomew is said to have voyaged in his marble sarcophagus from India to the Lipari Islands, where Saracens cast
forth his body: but it found its way safely to Benevento, whence Otto tried to bring it to Rome. The Beneventans however deceived
him and gave him the relics of St. Paulinus instead. Nevertheless the Romans insist on calling the church on the Isola Tiberina
after St. Bartholomew and assert that his relics are there. This church was built, on the site of the ancient temple of Aesculapius,
by Otto III, and at first was dedicated to St. Adalbert.
32 This family had the disgrace of producing that most iniquitous, perhaps, of all the Popes, Benedict IX.
33 Such as Venice, Florence, Pisa, Genoa, etc. The last two were powerful at sea and had successfully combated the Saracens
of Sardinia and Spain. Milan and Pavia were much dominated by the Germans and had a long struggle for independence. In the
south the republican spirit was extinguished by the Byzantines, Saracens, and Normans.
34 Serious tumults, proving the same feeling and punished in the same barbarous fashion, took place at almost every future
coronation of a German Roman Emperor.
35 More about the Normans will be found in ch. ii of this Part.
36 The appearance of a splendid architecture during this period in the northern cities, and a little later in the Norman
dominions, is, as we shall see, a very remarkable evidence of the progress of civilization and art where party strife did
not ruin all such development--as it did at Rome.
37 For details of this coronation, including the usual tumults, see explanation of the picture of the imperial diadem,
Fig. 19. Knut had come as pilgrim. He wrote an enthusiastic description of Rome to his English subjects. I may notice here
that some years later (1050) another famous person from the British Isles visited Rome as penitent, according to the chroniclers--namely,
Macbeth ! (He reigned eight years after murdering Duncan.)
38 Purg. xxviii-xxxiii. Dante’s ‘Matelda’ is a mystery. I cannot believe that she is Countess
Matilda. For lineage see Azzo, Ugo, Boniface, Beatrice.
39 The chief facts connected with this ‘demon of hell,’ as Gregorovius calls him, are given in the List of
Popes (p. 379) and need not be repeated. When he fled from Rome to Cremona on this occasion (1037) he owed his life to a solar
eclipse, which deterred the nobles who had vowed to kill him at the altar. At this time he was only sixteen, having ascended
the papal throne when twelve years of age.
40 He is said never to have put on the diadem without having made confession and done penance--frequently under the lash.
41 Doubtless, being under a ban, the marriage of the clergy, even when legalized, led to abuses which would not have existed
if it had been recognized as a Christian institution. But celibacy was, of course, insisted upon by Popes such as Hildebrand,
not for moral, but for political reasons: to secure a clergy devoted solely to papal interests.
42 See p. 335 n. The ruins of Canossa still exist, on a height some fifteen miles south-west of Reggio, and rather
farther from Parma.
43 Benevento remained under the overlordship of the Popes until 1860.
44 Here are buried (since 1900 mostly in new sarcophagi in the restored vault) Conrad II, Henry III, Henry IV, Henry V,
Philip, Rudolf von Habsburg, Adolf, and Albrecht; also Gisela (see p. 348.)
45 Met by Dante in Paradise (xxi, 121), where he utters fierce Miltonic invectives against the moderni pastori.
His copious writings in prose and in verse are a strange medley of mysticism, asceticism, and polemics.
46 Less with the Cistercians and St. Bernard; and I do not add either Domenic or St. Francis, for Domenic’s fiery
fanaticism was directed against intellectual heresy and St. Francis, ‘all seraphical in ardour,’ influenced hearts
rather than systems.
47 The eight books of his Registers are praised by Balzani as worthy of comparison with the writings of Gregory the Great.
Words fail the Count in his enthusiastic admiration for Hildebrand’s character.
48 Six millions are said to have taken the red cross. A vast multitude followed Peter and almost wholly perished before
the real host of the Crusaders left Europe.
49 The Guelfs and Ghibellines derived their names from these Bavarian “Welfen’ and from the ‘Waiblinger,’
i.e. the anti-papal and afterwards imperial family of the Hohenstaufer, whose founder had been made Duke of Suabia
by Henry IV (p. 357), and who took their name from their castle on the ‘High Staufen’ (2000 feet), some twelve
miles east of Stuttgart. They were also called ‘Waiblinger’ from the village of Waiblingen in the same district.
50 Betrayed and captured, this ex-cardinal was exhibited in the streets of Rome seated backwards on a camel and clothed
in a shaggy goatskin. He was then expelled, and died in misery in some convent.
51 In this connexion the following passage is full of interest: “William [the Conqueror] enforced his supremacy over
the Church. Homage was exacted from bishop as from baron. No synod could legislate without his assent.... He was the one ruler
of his time who dared firmly to repudiate the claims... of the court of Rome. When Gregory VII called on him to do fealty
for his real, the king sternly refused to admit the claim. Fealty, he said, I have never willed to do, nor will
I do it now.’ (Green’s Short History, ii, 5).
52 It was a few years later that Arnold of Brescia persuaded the Romans to rebuild the Capitol. Amidst the desolation of
its mighty ruins the ‘Novum Palatium’ (Palazzo del Senatore) arose on the mass of the ancient Tabularium.
In documents of 1150 this New Palace is mentioned as the assembly-place of the republican Senate. It was here that Petrarch
was crowned (1341). The fine flight of steps from the Piazza del Campidoglio was designed by Michelangelo, who rebuilt much
of this part of the Capitol and removed hither the famous equestrian statue of M. Aurelius (see p. 338).
53 He was consecrated in the Abbey of Farfa. This powerful monastic centre in the Sabine country, rivalling Monte Cassino,
had been destroyed by the Saracens, but was rebuilt and became so notorious for immorality that Alberich had tried to reform
it forcibly. Eugenius, after various attempts to establish himself in Rome, withdrew to France, preached the Crusade, and
vented his wrath by excommunicating Arnold.
54 They had been formally condemned in 1139 by the same Lateran Council which accepted St. Bernard’s condemnation
of Anacletus.
55 The original champions of liberty were Milan, Brescia, Piacenza, Parma, and Modena. On the other side were Pavia, Como,
Lodi, and Cremona (for a time). Genoa and Pisa were favoured by Frederick, who hoped to use their fleets.
56 It is asserted that the Germans bound a number of captive children to a movable siege-tower; but the besieged repelled
it, slaying their own children rather than surrender.
57 Both in the siege and in the barbarous destruction of Milan several Lombard cities, among them Como, took a large and
shameful part. Few of the churches were spared. S. Ambrogio was one of these.
58 The League as constituted in December 1167 included sixteen large cities. In 1168 even Como joined. I refer here, once
for all, to the very full account of the League and of the rise and nature of the North Italian Communes given by Sismondi
in his huge Histoire des rpubliques italiennes. I touch slightly on these subjects in my chapter on the Communes.
59 Thomas Becket wrote congratulating Pope Alexander on the ‘fate of Sennacherib.’
60 The great circular moat (the inner Naviglio of to-day), made in 1157 and destroyed in 1162, was now restore.
This would take less time than building walls, and Milan, since the removal of the old Roman walls of the inner city, relied
mainly on its moat.
61 Hallam’s Middle Ages, I, iii.
62 The Archbishop of Salerno. The bronze horses over the portal were brought from Constantinople twenty-seven years later.
Most of the present external mosaics are modern productions of no artistic value.
63 But at his death in 1181 the old feuds broke out again, and the next three Popes passed most of their time in exile.
64 It is interesting to note that on his outward voyage Richard touched at Ostia, but refused to visit the papal court
because it was ‘full of greed and corruption.’
377
INSERT TABLE
EMPERORS, KINGS, AND POPES
800-962
378
INSERT
EMPERORS, KINGS, AND POPES (800-962)--continued
379
INSERT
EMPERORS, KINGS, AND POPES (800-962)--continued
INSERT TABLE
EMPERORS (SAXON AND FRANCONIAN) AND POPES
(962-1125)
380
EMPERORS (SAXON AND FRANCONIAN) AND POPES (962-1125)
(continued)
381
EMPERORS (SAXON AND FRANCONIAN) AND POPES (962-1125)
(continued)
382
INSERT
EMPERORS AND POPES TO THE DEATH OF
BARBAROSSA
1125-1190
383
INSERT FAMILY TREE
THE HOHENSTAUFER
384
(BLANK PAGE IN COTTERILL)
385
CHAPTER I
THE DARK AGE
When we speak of the Dark Age, or the Dark Ages, of European history we generally use the expression rather vaguely to
denote the not easily determinable midnight watch of the Middle Ages--the limits of which are themselves somewhat difficult
to determine. It is not easy, perhaps not possible, to discover any one century, or period, when the darkness brooded with
equal obscurity over the whole of Western Europe; and we cannot fail to observe that in various countries the quality of the
darkness was very different; for although ignorance, superstition, vice and ferocity usually go hand in hand, there have been
cases where moral and religious enlightenment has prevailed amidst gross ignorance of arts and letters, and also cases where
the most hideous vice, inhumanity and irreligion have existed in a Golden Age of learning and aesthetic refinement--covered
up, so to speak, with Raffaelesque tapestries. Indeed, we should not be misusing words very seriously if we called the age
of the Borgias, which was also the age of the High Renaissance, the darkest period of the Roman Church--perhaps even darker
than the pontificate of John the Twelfth itself.
But as regards Italy--or perhaps we should say Rome--we may, I think, consider the ninth and tenth centuries and half the
eleventh (say 830-1050) as the darkest of its Dark Ages. In earlier times there had been long periods when the whole country,
ravaged by sword, fire, famine, and pestilence, was in a state of indescribable misery, but the ulcerous horror of internal
corruption during what we may call the darkest age of the history of Christian Rome was far more terrible than all that was
suffered from barbarian or Byzantine foes.
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Any fairly full account of this Dark Age of Italian history would occupy more pages than this volume contains. I must therefore
be content to make some general remarks and to give a few pictures illustrative of the manners and customs of those days.
Sometimes the brief description of a single scene impresses on one’s mind the character of an age more permanently than
is done by many words.
We may consider the original living stock of classical art and literature to have died down gradually during the three
centuries that followed the age of the Antonines, and, except for such literary survivals as Bothius, Cassiodorus, and Amalasuntha,
and except a few scholae that may have kept up traditions of classical art, it can scarcely be said to have existed
as a national influence in the days of Theoderic and during the Lombard domination.
It is true that a certain kind of culture, founded on classical writings but used almost wholly for purposes theological
and devotional, was fostered in monasteries. This culture spread, even before the time of Benedict and Monte Cassino, to the
wilds of Gaul and Britain, so that by the age of Gregory the Great and Theodelinda there was probably more erudition of this
kind in Tours, Bangor-Iscoed and Caerleon, or in Ireland and the Irish St. Gallen, than in Rome; and nigh a century ere the
day of Charles the Great, at an epoch when the darkness was beginning to gather ever denser over the mother-city of Western
Christianity the homeland of Bede could claim to be an important centre of European learning, and St. Boniface of England
had won the title of the Apostle of Germany.
Charles the Great was a patron of learning--such learning as had been preserved by the monks--a learning, be it noticed,
that was inspired with but little enthusiasm for what is great in ancient literature and art, (1) but which at least kept
alive the elements of literary civilization. At his court we find
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a number of learned men, such as his biographer Einhart (Eginard) and Paul the Deacon, and the Englishman Alcwin, the monarch’s
favourite counsellor, by whose advice schools were founded in many quarters. It is also said, though not easily proved, that
Charles built many churches and patronized art. Anyhow, we know that his rather unscrupulous love for things of beauty caused
him to rob Ravenna of many of its splendid marbles in order to decorate his palace and cathedral at Aix-la-Chapelle. During
the Carolingian (2) period Rome, and with it most of Italy except those cities which were under Byzantine supremacy or had
connexions with the East, such as Venice, or which, such as Palermo and Messina, came under Saracen civilization, sank ever
deeper into darkness, and during the social and political degradation caused by the regno d’Italia indipendente and
the rule of Marozia and Alberich and John XII at Rome the gloom was perhaps deepest. There are those who endeavour to show
that we are misled by the lack during these centuries of really able authors, and that we should not draw inferences as to
the general state of things from the miserable literary productions that have survived (3) We are told that ‘in no age
perhaps did Germany possess more learned and virtuous bishops than towards the end of the tenth and the beginning of the eleventh
centuries’ (Meiners, quoted by Hallam). That may be perfectly true. As I have already remarked, the Darkest Age did
not extend over all Western and Central Europe at the same time. In the tenth century there were centres of learning such
as Reims and Cluny. Germany, too, was at this epoch probably blessed with a great deal more light than Rome, and these learned
and virtuous bishops were doubtless the wise selections of German kings and not papal satellites. But
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how about Italy and how about Rome itself?
Of the social and intellectual state of the rest of Italy during the period which we may call the Darkest Age (about 830
to 1050) we know little, but it is evident that, in spite of incessant civil wars that raged until the coming of Otto the
Great, in some of the northern cities, which were already acquiring a good deal of self-respect and independence, morals and
education were on a considerable higher level than they were in what professed to be the mother-city of the religion of Western
Europe. Artistic feeling and skill, anyhow, stood decidedly higher in the northern towns, as can be seen by comparing the
first sign of that splendid Romanesque architecture which was soon to unfold all its beauty in those regions (4) with the
utter deadness of all original art in Rome during the whole of this age. While Pisa was planning and beginning the building
of its Duomo and Venice was rebuilding St. Mark’s and adorning it with wondrous mosaics, in Rome nothing was attempted
but reconstructions, for which ancient monuments were mercilessly pillaged; and the art of mosaics was extinct. (5)
Under the domination of the Saxon and Franconian Emperors, say during the eleventh century, began the first glimmering
of the new day that was to dawn on Italy. We hear of the fame of the Italian universities of Bologna and of Salerno. (The
latter, however, probably won from the Saracens its skill in medicine and mathematics.) We hear of learned Italians in distant
lands--such as Lanfranc and Anselm, both priors of the celebrated Abbey of Bec and both Archbishops of Canterbury, the one
a native of Pavia, the other of Aosta.
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Before long (about 1130-40) we hear of Abelard lecturing to immense audiences in Paris, and of his disciple, Arnold of
Brescia, whose fiery enthusiasm lit for a season in Rome a beacon for the lovers of learning and of liberty--soon, alas, to
be extinguished. And now the new spirit has already grown so strong in the Communes of Lombardy that they dare to stake their
all in the hope of winning that political freedom under which, in spite of much that was tragic and deplorable, they fought
their way valiantly and steadily onwards to the light.
It is sometimes asserted, as already remarked, that the state of learning in Italy, even in Rome, during the so-called
Dark Age was not really so bad as has been made out (6) It is affirmed that there were more schools in Italy than in any Northern
country, and that in Rome there was very considerable erudition, especially among the laity--such laymen as the courtiers
of Marozia or the Counts of Tusculum?--and that if the Popes and the clergy of Rome took but little interest in such matters
it was because they were so much engrossed by matters of serious importance--such matters, I suppose, as the extension of
the temporal power of the Church and the expulsion or poisoning of political enemies and Antipopes.
Even if we granted this affirmation and also allow the presence in Rome of learned Greeks, and of libraries, and of many
ancient manuscripts that perished later, we should be compelled to add that the existence of schools and of erudition in the
central city of Christendom made the immorality, the superstition, and the ferocity that prevailed there all the more shameful.
And that such things did prevail there is not difficult to prove. As Gregorovius justly says, Popes, clergy, nobles, and people
lived in a state of savagery scarce conceivable, and Rome stood deeply humiliated not only before the Christianity and the
learning of Gaul and Britain and Germany and Byzantium, but also before the art and erudition of those Arab Moslems who indeed
ravaged her Campagna and
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desecrated and plundered the sanctuaries of her saints, but who spread the light of science--of mathematics and medicine
and astronomy and philosophy--from Bagdad to Alexandria and from Alexandria to Seville. (7) And though Rome herself may not
have felt conscious of this humiliation, it was evident enough to the outside world. The contempt with which the Romans were
regarded by the Byzantines is summed up in the scornful words of the emperor Michael, who when writing to Pope Nicholas I
(c. 860) calls their language (8) a language of Barbarians and Scythians; and the disdainful invective with which
(c. 900) the bishops of the Gallic church, assembled at Reims, assailed the illiterate clergy of Rome and the Pope
himself doubtless expresses the general feeling of Northern Christendom. Nor does it raise Rome and the Papacy in our estimation
when we hear that this invective was answered by the papal legate with the assertion that from the beginning God had chosen
the simple and unlearned to confound the wisdom of the world and that the Vicars of St. Peter and their disciples ‘needed
not to be fattened at the trough of Plato or Virgil or Terence or any other such philosophic swine.’ But a few sketches
of what actually occurred at Rome in this Dark Age will help us to realize the condition in which religion and morality and
humanity found themselves.
THE RELIC-MANIA AND BODY-SNATCHING
In a former chapter I described the mania that developed itself in early days for acquiring the corpses, or the bones,
of saints and martyrs, and the superstitions connected with wonder-working bones and brandea; and on various occasions
mention has been made of the supposed discovery and the strange fortunes of some celebrated relics (such as those of St. Mark,
St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Bartholomew, and St. Augustine)
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and of the pride that was felt by cities and by founders of churches when they could purchase a sacred corpse, or, in case
that proved impossible (a whole genuine corpse being an exceedingly expensive article), when they were able to procure even
the half or the quarter of some dead body which they had been especially eager to possess.
As the number of churches increased throughout Christendom the demand for bodies and bones became ever greater, and the
institution of pilgrimages (9) caused an enormous increase in the supply, for every romo (pilgrim to Rome) was anxious
to acquire relics, as the modern tourist is generally anxious to acquire curiosities; and relics, like modern antiquities,
had to be forthcoming. Catacombs and graves were plundered by night, and the tombs in churches had to be watched by armed
men. Rome, says Gregorovius, was like a mouldering cemetery in which hyenas howled and fought as they dug greedily after corpses.
And these corpses and skeletons were labelled with the names of popular saints and sold piecemeal to pilgrims. Or courageous
foreigners would sometimes succeed in stealing precious relics from a church. (10) Thus in 827 Frankish pilgrims carried off
to Soissons the bones of SS. Peter and Marcellinus, and a presbyter of Reims in 849 had the audacity and luck to steal what
was supposed to be the body of St. Helena, Constantine’s mother. Sometimes too a Pope would, as a very special favour,
present some foreign church or potentate with a valuable corpse. ‘These dead bodies,’ says Gregorovius, ‘were
transported on richly decorated vehicles and escorted for some distance by the Roman populace in solemn procession with lighted
torches and pious psalmody; and from every town, at the approach of the car, streamed forth the citizens, imploring and expecting
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miracles of healing. When it arrived at its destination--a city or a monastery of Germany, France, or England--the sacred
body was welcomed with hymns of triumph and festivities that lasted many days.’ Wars were even waged for the possession
of some coveted relic. For instance, Dukes of Benevento after reducing Naples and Amalfi to submission extorted from their
consternated victims, as the price of peace, the mummies of St. Januarius and St. Triphomena. It was one of these dukes, Sicard
by name, who was lucky enough to secure the corpse of St. Bartholomew, the wondrous journeys of which have already been related
(p.343 n.) This prince, says Gregorovius, ‘sent his agents out to search all the coasts and islands of Italy
for bones and skulls and other relics, and transformed the cathedral of Benevento into a charnel-house.’
This horrid craving for corpses and bones has never been quite cured in Christendom, and that it was still intense towards
the end of what I have called the Dark Age may be inferred from the fact--for such it is said to be--that when St. Romuald,
the founder of the Camaldolenses, was intending to leave Italy assassins were sent after him in order, if possible to secure
at least his dead body rather than let him be lost entirely to his native country. Unluckily, he escaped. (11)
‘POPE JOAN’
The curious story of ‘Pope Joan’ (la Papessa Giovanna) lies outside the realm of certified fact but
does not lie outside the realm of history, for history should not reject possibilities nor ignore beliefs that have influenced
the course of events; and this story, although it may have first originated in the thirteenth century and was perhaps invented
by some of the many fierce enemies of the Papacy and in particular of Pope Boniface VIII, was for many centuries, we are told
by Gregorovius, believed by chroniclers and by bishops--nay, by Popes them-
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selves and by everybody else. How unquestioning this belief was is proved by the fact that for two centuries (1400-1600)
the bust of ‘Johannes VIII, femina ex Anglia,’ stood among the busts of the Popes in Siena Cathedral. (12)
According to the tale ‘Pope Joan’ was the daughter of an Anglo-Saxon; but she was born in the Rhineland, at
Ingelheim, where Charles the Great had a castle, between Mainz and Bingen. She won great distinction at Mainz for her learning,
and, disguised as a man, entered the celebrated monastery of Fulda (between Frankfurt and Bebra) that had been founded some
eighty years previously by the English Apostle of Germany, St. Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz. Later, it is said, she studied
in England and also at Athens, and then received the post of a teacher in the Schola Graecorum at Rome, an ancient
training college for deacons, where she gained so much influence that on the death of Leo IV she was made Pope (about 855
apparently). After a pontificate which is calculated to a nicety by chroniclers as having lasted two years, one month, and
four days, her sex was discovered--so runs the tale--by her giving birth to an infant and dying while taking part in a procession.
The horrified ecclesiastics buried her where she had expired, between the Colosseum and S. Clemente, and on this spot (which
was ever afterwards avoided by Popes) her statue was erected, with her child in her arms and the papal mitre on her head.
How such a well-connected narrative could have been fabricated it is not easy to divine, but although some of the story of
her adventurous life may be true, the assertion that she was elected Pope seems to be conclusively disproved by a coin of
Pope Benedict III which is stamped with the name of the Emperor Lothair. Now it is pretty certain that Leo IV died on July
17, 855, and Lothair died, in a Benedictine monastery, on September 28 of the same year; so it seems as if Benedict must have
succeeded Leo; and this is stated by the Liber Pontificalis,
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which tells us that his consecration took place on the day after Leo’s death.
A CORPSE SUMMONED BEFORE A SYNOD (14)
It may be remembered that during the turbulent period which the Italians call il regno d’Italia indipendente a
Duke of Spoleto named Guido succeeded in persuading, or forcing, Pope Stephen V to crown him in St. Peter’s as Emperor,
and the next year (892) brought similar pressure to bear on Stephen’s successor, Pope Formosus, who at Ravenna (so at
least chroniclers say whom Villari follows) crowned Guido’s son, Lambert, as the coadjutor of his father on the imperial
throne. This Pope Formosus was evidently a weak and untrustworthy individual, for even while he was crowning the young Lambert
at Ravenna he was, one may feel sure, thinking--as Stephen had thought-- how much rather he would see the imperial diadem
on the head of the German Arnulf; and soon after the Ravenna coronation he began to correspond with the Carinthian duke and
to incite him to come and try his luck. After an unsuccessful attempt in 894, Arnulf forced his way at last to Rome and was
forthwith crowned by Formosus, who ignored the fact that two other so-called Emperors existed, and that he himself had acknowledged
one of them and with his own hands had crowned the other.
The coronation of the foreign usurper--the unctio barbarica, as it was disdainfully called--inflamed the fury of
the patriotic anti-German party in Rome, and when Arnulf was suddenly struck down by paralysis and Lambert with his mother
Agiltrud (15) had entered Rome in triumph this resentful woman induced the Pope, Stephen VI, who was nothing loth, to perpetrate
an act which for ghoulish hideousness has perhaps never been equalled in the history of humanity. It was resolved that a solemn
Synod should be called to judge Pope Formosus, and that he should be summoned to appear in propria persona. His corpse,
which had lain for eight months
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in the crypt of St. Peter’s, was dragged from its tomb and, clothed in pontifical robes, was set on a throne in the
council-hall before the assembled priests and prelates of the Church of Christ. While all gazed shuddering at the ghastly
thing, the sight and stench of which seemed to fill the whole assembly-hall with pestilential gloom, the advocate of Pope
Stephen arose and addressed the corpse, near which stood the trembling deacon who had to act as counsel for the dead man.
When the accusations (16) had been read Pope Stephen himself challenged the corpse to answer the charges. What the dead Pope’s
counsel, that trembling deacon, dared to say we do not know, but sentence of deposition was passed, all the acts and ordinances
of Formosus were annulled, the three fingers of the right hand with which papal blessing had been dispensed were hacked off,
the pontifical robes were torn from the poor dead body, and it was dragged by the feet through the council-hall and through
the streets and finally, amid the howls and laughter of the mob, was cast into the Tiber. (17)
Stephen did not long enjoy his triumph. Chance, says Gregorovius, which sometimes undertakes the duties of Providence and
does signs and wonders when saints are powerless, determined that soon after the Synod of Horror, while the corpse of Formosus
was still weltering in the waves of Tiber, the ancient basilica of the Lateran, shaken by an earthquake, should suddenly collapse.
At the crash of the falling temple Pope Stephen, who lived close by in the Patriarchium, was doubtless startled amidst
his gloomy thoughts of the past, and to him the thunder of the downfall of the ancient church of Roman Christianity must have
seemed a foreboding of the fate of the Papacy and of the doom that he himself was soon to encounter. In the same year the
Roman mob rose against Emperor Lambert and his papal ally. Stephen was captured, despoiled of his pontifical robes, clothed
in a monkish cowl,
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and sent to a monastery, where not long afterwards he was strangled. (18) One of his successors, Theodorus, though he reigned
only twenty days, gave honourable burial to the poor insulted body of Formosus, which had been found by Roman fishers, and
Liudprand assures us that he ‘often heard it said by the most religious men in Rome’ that when the corpse was
carried into S. Peter’s ‘certain images of saints saluted it with reverence’--perhaps the figures of saints
in paintings or mosaics with which Formosus himself had decorated the church, or the crypt.
However repulsive the scene may be, the descriptions that chroniclers give of Pope Stephen’s Synod help one to form
a just conception of the state of religion, morals, and humanity at Rome in the ninth century. And we must remember that this
was nothing exceptional--nothing that excited general denunciation or protest. Occurrences no less horrifying were constantly
taking place. During the eight years that followed this horrible Synod seven Popes died, several probably by poison or strangulation,
and the brief notes given in the List of Popes (p. 378 sq.) intimate the fate of many others. The scene about to be
described is only a specimen of the indescribable ferocity of the age, and one of thousands of proofs of the truth of such
assertions as that of Gregorovius, to which I have already alluded, that ‘the Popes, the clergy, the nobles and people
of Rome in this age lived in a state of barbarism than which nothing more horrible can be conceived.’
THE FATE OF ANTIPOPE JOHN XVI (19)
In the year 996 Otto III, being then only sixteen years old, caused to be elected as Pope the chaplain Bruno, his second-cousin,
twenty-three years of age, son of the Marquess
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of Verona. Bruno, who was the first German Pope, took the name Gregory V. About three weeks after his consecration he set
the imperial diadem on the head of his royal relative in St. Peter’s basilica at Rome. But in September of the same
year a revolution, headed by the powerful noble Crescentius, caused Pope Gregory to flee to Pavia, whence he launched a futile
bolt of excommunication against the Roman rebel. Crescentius answered the challenge by causing an Antipope to be elected.
His choice fell on Philagathus, the Bishop of Piacenza, a Greek of Calabria, formerly (as also Silvester II) the tutor of
Otto. This prelate had lately returned from Constantinople, whither Otto, his former pupil, had sent him to negotiate for
the hand of a Byzantine princess. Doubtless he had cherished hopes of election to the pontifical chair, and probably felt
resentment when the young Otto nominated his cousin Bruno. However that may be, he accepted the offer made by Crescentius
and was consecrated (May 997), taking the name John XVI. Otto then decided to restore his cousin. He crossed the Alps and
spent the Christmas of that year (997) at Pavia. Early in the following spring he entered Rome. Crescentius withdrew into
the well-provisioned and almost impregnable fortress of S. Angelo, while the Antipope fled from the city and took refuge in
a tower somewhere in the Campagna, hoping to escape thence by land or by sea to Byzantine territory. For a description of
what then occurred I shall take the liberty of borrowing and freely translating a passage from Villari.
“While hiding in this tower the Antipope was discovered and captured by some of the Emperor’s soldiers, who
gouged his eyes out, cut out his tongue, and sliced off his nose, and his ears. Thus mutilated, he was brought before a Synod,
excommunicated, and stripped of his episcopal robes. Then he was set facing backwards on a donkey and paraded through the
streets of Rome, accompanied by a public herald, who proclaimed aloud his crimes and the punishments that he had been awarded.
Then he was cast into a dungeon; and there he died.... Otto, after presiding at several councils and
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having commanded the erection of various new churches and convents (a matter in which he never shrank from lavish expense),
began once more to besiege the Castle of S. Angelo, and ere long he obtained its surrender. This he managed, it is said, by
promising to spare the life of Crescentius; but he did not keep his promise. Crescentius was beheaded, and his dead body,
after being hurled down from the rampart of the fortress, was suspended by the feet to a gallows on Monte Mario. Capital punishment
was also inflicted on the chief magistrate of each of the twelve quarters of the city. Thus this fantastic restorer of the
Roman Empire, this devout founder of churches and convents, this pious adorer of hermits showed that, when occasion offered,
he knew how to act the part of a cruel German Imperator.’
1 The ancient manuscripts destroyed by the monks for the purpose of using the parchment for theological or devotional writings
were probably more numerous by far than all those destroyed by barbarian invaders or by the Turks.
2 In their northern dominions the Carolingians favoured learning, and Lothair is said to have founded schools in many towns
of North Italy.
3 Paul the Deacon (725-799), who was long at the court of Charles the Great and spent his last twelve years at Monte Cassino,
wrote a very able History of the Lombards, and he speaks of ‘illustrious and admirable poets’ at Monte Cassino;
but to judge from what remains of them they wrote only very bad doggerel in dog-Latin. During two centuries and more the only
writer worth mentioning, besides monastic chroniclers, is Liudprand (see Index.)
4 In the south the Normans introduced about the same time an architecture scarcely less splendid--whence, it is difficult
to say, as we shall see later.
5 A grotesque mosaic near the tomb of Otto II (d. 983) in the crypt of St. Peter’s is one of the earliest specimens
of a faint revival of the art after a blank of about 150 years. In 896 the Lateran church, destroyed by earthquake, was rebuilt,
but for the whole of this period little was attempted, and almost all perished when Robert Guiscard sacked Rome in 1084. The
fine Roman campanili (with one or two exceptions) did not begin till about 1100.
6 How far the general demoralization was due to the belief that the world would come to an end in A.D. 1000 is much disputed.
7 Avicenna lived from 980 to 1037; Averros, che ‘l gran comento feo, from c. 1126 to 1198.
8 The lingua vulgaris was already corrupting classical Latin very rapidly. See Part V, ch. iv. But Emperor Michael
perhaps meant that Latin itself was a barbarian jargon, for the Pope in answer ridiculed the idea of a so-called ‘Roman’
Emperor being ignorant of Latin.
9 These pilgrimages, with their throngs of malefactors and unprotected, often weak-minded, females, were the source of
very great evil. It is said that cities were largely supplied with fallen women by means of pilgrimages, and so many of these
were Englishwomen that, as Milman says, it became a ‘scandal for the Anglican Church.’
10 A marble slab in S. Prassede (Rome) states that the bodies of 2300 martyrs were transferred from the cemeteries to this
church by Pope Paschal in 817.
11 Even if not true, the story shows what was believed to be possible. It is asserted that he lived to the age of 120 and
that nearly four hundred years after his death (i.e. in 1446) his body was found still undecayed; but it was stolen,
and forthwith crumbled into dust.
12 It was transformed by Clement VIII into a portrait of Pope Zacharias.
13 For writers on the subject see Gregorovius, Book V, ch. iii. It is alleged that until the end of the fifteenth century
the Pope-designate had to undergo examination so as to avoid the possibility of another Papessa !
14 See pp. 325, 330, and list, p. 378.
15 See p. 326
16 The real motive of the act was, of course, political and personal, but ecclesiastical charges had to be invented. The
chief of these was the infringement by Formosus (who had been Bishop of Porto) of an old and practically obsolete rule that
no bishop should be translated to the papal dignity.
17 Accounts vary a little. I have drawn from Gregorovius.
18 The ‘monster’ Pope Sergius III, who was of the faction of Stephen VI and had been chosen Pope in 897 by
this party, but had been expelled by the faction of Formosus, when he ascended the papal throne later (904) gave Stephen a
tomb in St. Peter’s and furnished it with an epitaph describing his death by strangulation and abusing Formosus. (Professor
Villari, in writing to me, courteously allows that he was wrong in asserting that it was the tomb of Formosus on which the
abusive epitaph was placed.)
19 See pp. 343, 380.
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CHAPTER II
THE NORMANS
The brilliant episode of the Norman supremacy in Sicily and South Italy is so interesting--especially to those who make
any claim to Norman descent--and influenced so greatly Italian history, that, although the main facts were necessarily mentioned
in my sketch of this period, I shall devote a few pages to the subject.
The Normans whose forefathers, like most inhabitants of Northern and Central Europe, probably came from the far East and
belonged to the so-called Indo-Germanic stock, seem to have been a race of exceptionally fine, bold and hardy Norsemen, closely
related to the Danes, and like them fond of a sea-life. Impelled by a love of adventure and called by that voice of the South
which in these Aryan invaders of dreary and barren Northern lands seems often to have awakened some long-slumbering memories
of sunnier climes, they began to cross the stormy deep in their swift black ships, following the flight of the swan’;
and ere long these audacious Vikinger (‘creek-men,’ ‘fjord-men’) spread terror along the coasts
of Germany and France, and with their light vessels they would even penetrate far inland up estuaries and navigable streams,
and sometimes transport their ships from one river to another.
Seeing a fleet of these piratical Vikings sweeping past the coast of France, Charles the Great, it is said, was much disturbed
with gloomy forebodings. And ere long his fears began to be realized. In 845 the Normans burnt Hamburg, and a few years later
sacked Cln and Trier and Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) and turned Charles the Great’s splendid cathedral into a stable
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for their horses. For nearly half a century they infested these regions, but in 891 Arnulf of Carinthia (before he came
to Italy and was made Emperor) attacked their strong camp in the marshes of the Dyle and inflicted such a crushing defeat
on them that they withdrew from North Germany and left it for the future in peace, (1) passing westward to the northern coast
of France. Here they ascended the Seine, took Rouen, and occupied the surrounding country. In 911 the French king, Charles
the Simple, ceded this country to the Norman duke Rollon, and before very long the heathen 'Pirates,' as they were commonly
called, adopted the language (the langue d’ol) and religion and manners, and even the popular legends, of their
new home. (2)
When the Normans had adopted Christianity and had become a nation recognized by other Christian nations their warlike and
restless spirit and perhaps also political troubles induced not a few of the nobles to lead bands of adventurers to southern
countries. Among these--half knights-errant and half pilgrims--were some Normans who got as far as the Holy Land about fifty
years before the Norman conquest of England and the Turkish conquest of Jerusalem. On their homeward journey they landed in
Italy. Here they found the Saracens of Sicily, no less hostile than the Fatimite caliphs in Palestine, beleaguering the city
of Salerno in order to enforce payment of tribute. Although only forty in number, the Normans, it is said, compelled the infidels
to raise the siege; and so impressed was the prince of Salerno, Guaimar, that he begged the strangers to enter his service,
and on their refusal--since they ‘fought only for their religion and not for pay’--he sent messages or messengers,
with them to Normandy in the hope of enlisting soldiers of fortune. It was
INSERT FIG 33
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perhaps this same band of pilgrims returning from Palestine which (as related on a former occasion) was encountered near
Monte Gargano by a certain soldier of fortune named Melus or Melo. This man is said to have been a fugitive from the (then)
Byzantine town of Bari and to have made arrangements with the Northmen like those attributed to Guaimar for the purpose of
wreaking vengeance on the Byzantines. (3)
Such are the stories that account, perhaps truly, for the appearance, about 1018, of various bands of Norman warriors in
South Italy. Melo’s attempt at revenge proved a failure, in spite of the valour of his Norman mercenaries, and the Byzantines
for a time extended their power very considerably (see p. 346). But the service of Northmen was eagerly sought by the Duke
of Benevento and other princes, as well as by the Byzantines themselves, and the number of these formidable fighters increased
so rapidly that ere long they were able to lay claim to territory that they had helped to conquer; and thus they began to
form independent communities. The right to do so was conceded them, about 1028, by Conrad II, who allowed them to settle in
the territory of Capua in order to counteract Pandulf, the rebellious despot of that city; and Pandulf’s enemy, the
duke of Naples (Sergius), rewarded the Normans for their assistance by giving their leader, Rainulf, the town of Aversa. This
town of Aversa, which is twelve miles north of Naples, was the first fixed abode of the Normans in Italy, and formed, as it
were, the nucleus of their future kingdom.
Besides the Normans at Aversa there were many groups that had no settled abode but took service wherever fighting was going
on, and their numbers were constantly being increased by new arrivals from the north. Now Guaimar of
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Salerno, whom the Saracens with their powerful fleets were for ever annoying, joined forces (1038) with the Byzantines
of South Italy in an invasion of Sicily, which for two centuries (ever since the fall of Palermo in 831) had been in possession
of the infidels. This invasion, though a fiasco--for the leaders quarrelled and the Christian forces soon returned
to Italy--is memorable because one of the chief warriors in the Norman contingent was an elder brother of the celebrated Robert
Guiscard--one of the twelve sons of Tancred of Hauteville. His name was William of the Iron Arm, and he called himself Count
of Apulia, and according to his biographer (4) he was ‘a lion in war, a lamb in society, and an angel in council.’
With his ‘iron arm’ he is said to have ‘unhorsed and transpierced the emir of Syracuse,’ and the small
band of his fighters discomfited a host of 60,000 Saracens. But in spite of such exploits all was in vain, and not till fifty
years later was the Norman conquest of Sicily complete.
During these fifty years (c. 1040-90) the Norman power in South Italy increased greatly. William of the Iron Arm
died, but other valiant sons of Tancred of Hauteville arrived from their northern home. Drogo took the place of William, and
when Drogo fell by the hand of an assassin his brother Humphry succeeded to the title of Count and to the leadership of the
combined forces of Northmen in Apulia and Calabria. In 1053 took place the fight (see p. 352) in which Humphry’s Normans,
aided by their countrymen of Aversa under Count Richard, totally defeated, not far from Gargano on the Adriatic coast, the
German and Italian troops of Leo IX, and took the Pope himself prisoner; and it may be remembered that the victors prostrated
themselves in reverence before their prisoner, begging his pardon--but kept him as a hostage for six months. Finally, when
released, or to obtain his release, the pontiff recognized as a fait accompli the conquests of the Normans, and if
he did not formally invest Humphry with the title of Count or Duke of Apulia and Calabria, this was certainly done six years
later by Pope Nicholas II in the
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case of Robert Guiscard, the brother and successor of Humphry. Nicholas had apparently no such cause of gratitude as Leo
had, but there were, as we shall see, political reasons to account for his apparently impulsive generosity; for he not only
liberated Robert from excommunication (5) and granted him investiture as Duke of Apulia and Calabria, but even promised to
recognize him as Duke of Sicily as soon as ever he succeeded in wresting the island from the Saracens.
Robert Guiscard (or Wiscard, ‘the Clever’), the sixth son of Tancred of Hauteville, was at this time forty-four
years of age. He reigned as duke, after his recognition by Nicholas, for twenty-five years and developed the power of the
Normans in Italy very greatly. At first he, as also Richard of Aversa (or rather Capua, of which city he had been made prince),
was friendly to the Popes, but when Hildebrand was elected troubles broke out; for the growing power of Robert did not at
all suit the ambitious plans of the new Pope. However, this state of things was finally changed entirely by the clever policy
of Hildebrand. It will be remembered that long before he was Pope the monk Hildebrand had guided the counsels of the papal
court, indeed, Nicholas II and Alexander II were merely his tools. It was his acute policy that had caused Nicholas to recognize
Robert as duke, and he himself had made such friends with the other Norman chief, Richard of Aversa and Capua, that this prince
had helped him to give the coup de grce to Antipope Benedict. Now when he, Hildebrand, became Pope and the Investiture
trouble began he was far-sighted enough to foresee that an alliance with the Normans would be a necessity in his conflict
with the Emperor; and when, after the humiliation of Henry IV at Canossa, the conflict seemed likely to be renewed with still
greater bitterness he was determined to secure the friendship of Robert Guiscard,
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who had quite lately increased his power by making himself master of Salerno, and thus extinguishing the last Lombard principality
in the south of Italy. Hildebrand’s statecraft had in this case a surprising success. Duke Robert, for what reasons
it is not easy to see, not only accepted the Pope’s overtures, but actually did homage to him for his dukedom (a homage
paid by kings of the Sicilies for 600 years) and confirmed the papal claim to Benevento--a claim which remained recognized
till the year 1860. From this time onward the Normans of South Italy were a pillar of strength to the Church of Rome.
For some ten years before this occurrence Robert Guiscard had been helping his youngest brother, Roger, whom he had sent
against the Saracens in Sicily. In 1072 he had been present at the capture of Palermo, which, after having been 240 years
in the power of Arabian and African Moslems, was now to become the capital of Christian monarchs whose near ancestry had been
Scandinavian Vikings. Roger proclaimed himself Count of Sicily, but it was nearly twenty years before he had completely subjugated
the whole of the island and had enrolled the Saracens as his soldiers and subjects.
Meanwhile Robert Guiscard, having assimilated the last of the Lombard states and having subjugated Saracens and Byzantines,
had formed the design of following up his conquests on the other side of the Adriatic and possessing himself of Constantinople
itself. His campaigns in Sicily had necessitated the formation of a fleet, and the blood of the old Vikings stirred in his
veins as his new ambition (6) urged him to collect or build more than a hundred warships and to set forth across the sea with
a force, it is said, of 30,000 men--not a few being Saracens who had accepted service in his army. He occupied Corfu and laid
siege to Durazzo (Dyrrachium). The Eastern Emperor, Alexius Comnenus, then appealed to Venice, and Venice, jealous of the
new sea-power, responded. With a swarm of galleys Doge Selvo attacked and seemed on the point
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of overpowering the besieging fleet, but Robert and his Normans turned the fortune of battle and soon afterwards entered
Durazzo (1082). It seemed now almost likely that he might make a dash for Constantinople--whither from Durazzo led the fine
Roman military road, the Via Egnatia. But matters at Rome had become very serious. The Emperor Henry IV had, as we know, seized
the Leonine quarter, and Pope Gregory was closely invested in S. Angelo and was sending pitiful appeals to Robert. He thereupon
left the charge of the war in Dalmatia to his son Bohemund and hastened back to Italy, put Henry to flight, released Hildebrand,
and brought everlasting shame on his good fame by allowing his troops to plunder Rome.
This happened in the early summer of 1084. In the autumn he again reached Dalmatia, in time to repel another violent attack
by the Venetians and Byzantines, whose losses this time, it is said, amounted to 13,000 men. Doge Selvo fled back to the lagunes
with the remnant of his ships and was deposed. (7) His successor, Vitale Falieri, made great efforts to avenge the disgrace,
and he met with some success; but what put an end to the Norman attempt on the Eastern Empire was the death of Robert Guiscard.
He was struck down, (8) perhaps by the plague or by poison, when endeavouring to capture the island of Cephalonia (July 1085).
The younger of Robert’s two sons, Roger Borsa, was the favourite of his father and managed to secure succession to
the dukedom. The elder, Bohemund, had to content himself with Taranto. In 1097 he joined in the first Crusade with several
thousand Norman fighters. Stories connected with his exploits in the East--the capture of Antioch by the help of the Genoese
and Pisans and by a cunning worthy of the son of Guiscard and of the title (given him by Gibbon) of the Latin Odysseus; the
discovery of the ‘holy lance’ and the rout of a mighty host of infidels; the foundation of a Christian
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principality of Antioch--may be found mentioned in Tasso’s Gerusalemme Liberata and picturesquely described
by the historian of the Decline and Fall. Chroniclers also related how he languished four years in a Turkish prison
and finally escaped by the aid of a Moslem princess--a story reminding one of Young Beichan (9) and Susie Pye [Susan note] of
our English ballad. After his escape he seems to have raised forces in Italy for the recovery of Antioch, but to have made
a futile attack on Durazzo and to have returned to Taranto, where about 1112 he died. Roger Borsa had died shortly before
this, and the dukedom of Apulia had passed into the hands of his son, William, who, although feeble in body and mind, managed
to uphold his authority for the next sixteen years (1111-27).
Now in the meantime Robert Guiscard’s youngest brother, Count Roger, had completely conquered the Saracens in Sicily.
Like Robert, he attained seventy years. At his death in 1101, his only sons were two children of eight and of six years. The
mother, Count Roger’s third wife, Adelada of Monteferrato, was regent for the elder, Simon, until he died in 1105,
and for the younger, Roger, until he came of age in 1112. She then went off to Palestine, where she married Baldwin (Godfrey’s
brother), the King of Jerusalem
We hear little of Count Roger the Second of Sicily until the Apulian-Calabrian dukedom becomes vacant by the death of his
heirless second-cousin William. He now acts vigorously--lands at Salerno, claims the succession, receives the homage of his
adherents, sends envoys to Rome to announce that he would be pleased to receive investiture, and, when Pope Honorius II seems
unwilling to move, makes a display of force which soon brings about compliance. Then, after confirming his authority by similar
measures throughout the whole of the Norman provinces, he summons a great Council, or Parliament, at Palermo in the year 1130
and assumed the royal crown and title as King of Sicily, or perhaps the Two Sicilies. (10)
INSERT FIG 34
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It will be remembered that at this time Pope Innocent II had fled to France and the Antipope Anacletus was in power. Anacletus
sent a legate to Palermo to perform the act of coronation; but his coronation was regarded as null by the orthodox, and the
matter was made still worse when St. Bernard of Clairvaux and the Lateran Council of 1133 declared Innocent sole Pope and
annulled the acts of Anacletus (see. p. 364). In Fig. 34 is given a mosaic set up by Roger in S. Maria dell’ Ammiraglio
(now la Martorana) at Palermo. It represents the king receiving from Christ the crown refused him by the Pope. But
not long after the Lateran Council Pope Innocent had the misfortune to be taken prisoner by Roger, and, just as had happened
in the case of Leo IX and Robert Guiscard, the victor treated his prisoner reverently and was rewarded by recognition as King
of Sicily, Duke of Apulia, and Prince of Capua. (11)
The hundred years (1087-1189) during which Sicily was under Norman rule form one of the most attractive periods in the
long and wonderfully varied history of the island, which ever since the age of the early Sicels and Sicanians (or maybe the
Cyclopes and the Laestrygonians) down to that of the Bourbons and Garibaldi has been the battlefield and the home of many
races. These Northern princes, descendants of the pirate-kings of Scandinavia, who conquered not only Sicily but much of South
Italy (the ancient Magna Graecia) and for a time considerable portions of Dalmatia and Greece, and whose fleets swept the
Adriatic and the Aegean and the Levant and even threatened Constantinople, seem to have ruled the polyglot multitude of their
Sicilian subjects with wisdom and liberality. They not only allowed the Moslems religious liberty, but employed them as soldiers
and also as officials, and were themselves much influenced by Saracen learning and art. Greek and Latin and Arabic were used
indifferently in public documents, (12) and in religions there was
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evidently a strange tolerance, considering that it was the age of Crusades and fanaticism. ‘The king,’ says
Villari, ‘as apostolic legate was present at Catholic functions clad in a dalmatic embroidered with golden Cufic characters
and bearing the date of the Hegira. In close vicinity were to be seen feudal castles, Greek cities, Mohammedan villages, Lombard
colonies, streets occupied by Pisans, Genoese, and Amalfitans. The sound of bells and the chanting of monks mingled with the
voice of the muezzin from his minaret, and in the crowd were seen side by side the Arab cloak, the Moslem turban, the Norman
coat of mail, the long Greek tunic, and the short doublet of the Italian.’ As we shall see, their architecture bears
witness to this picturesque diversity. Although doubtless in reality absolute monarchs they delegated military and civil power
to their ‘Admirals’ (Commanders or Ministers--the word Ammiraglio being the Arabic al Emir), and
appear to have instituted some sort of Parliament, in which the people were represented by lay and ecclesiastical peers, so
that we may perhaps regard these Norman kings of Sicily as the first constitutional rulers. At their courts we find many learned
and able men, among whom the Englishman Gualtiero Offamilio (Walter Of a Mill) is for us of special interest.
King Roger’s successes in war were brilliant, but not permanent. He made some conquests in North Africa, and, following
the example of Robert Guiscard, he assailed the Eastern Empire, took Corfu, captured Thebes and Corinth, and even had the
satisfaction of learning that Norman arrows had rattled on the windows of the imperial palace at Byzantium.
The reign (1154-66) of Roger’s son and successor, William I, was much disturbed by rebellion. He had many powerful
enemies. Against the Eastern Emperor, Manuel Comnenus, he held his own vigorously, scouring the Ionian and Aegean with his
fleets, as his Viking ancestors had scoured the Northern seas; but a more dangerous foe was Barbarossa, who, in collu-
INSERT FIG 35
409
sion with the English Pope Hadrian and depending on the Pisans for a fleet, seriously designed the conquest of the Two
Sicilies and incited a widespread insurrection of the nobles of Apulia against their Norman ruler. William succeeded however
in conciliating Pope Hadrian, who graciously vouchsafed him investiture. (13) Then he turned furiously on the Apulian barons
and inflicted on them condign chastisement--earning by his revengeful cruelty the name of William the Bad. In Sicily too the
feudal nobles repelled, massacred many of the Saracen adherents of the king and succeeded in capturing and imprisoning him;
but the people rose in his favour and set him free, and his last years seem to have been stained by further atrocities perpetrated
against the recalcitrant barons. Doubtless he was of a violent, revengeful, and sanguinary nature; but his biographers belonged
to the feudal and ecclesiastical parties, and perhaps from the people’s view he deserved scarcely more than his son
to be handed down to fame as William the Bad.
However that may be, we need not doubt that his son was deservedly called William the Good, for during his reign of twenty-two
years (or seventeen, if we subtract the regency of his mother, Margherita) there was no sign of rebellion or discontent. When
his father died in 1166 he was a youth of thirteen. His education had been entrusted to tutors sent from Normandy by his princely
relatives--to Stephen of Rouen, Pete of Blois, and the Englishmen Walter Of a Mill, who as his special adviser and his chancellor
exercised great influence on him, and through him on the weal of the state, and has handed his own name down to later ages
by the splendid churches which, as Archbishop of Palermo, he helped to found. It was also doubtless through his influence
that William married an English princess Joan, daughter of Henry II and sister to Richard Coeur-de-Lion. The wisdom and liberality
of William II are evidenced not only by the
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INSERT TABLE
NORMAN DUKES AND KINGS OF SICILY AND SOUTH ITALY.
411
peaceful and prosperous state of his own dominions but by his foreign policy. He made an alliance of twenty years with
Venice, and probably saved that city from destruction by the resentful Byzantines. He also warmly supported the North Italian
republics in their desperate struggle for liberty, and took part through his envoys in the celebrated conference at Venice
in 1177, when Barbarossa made peace with the Pope and with the Lombard cities.
As a great and good ruler William II of Sicily has been immortalized by Dante, who places his soul, in the form of a bright
star, in the constellation of the mighty Eagle in the heaven of Jupiter--the symbol not only of the Roman Empire, but of all
just government. (14)
It was however also on account of his wars against the Moslems and anti-papal Byzantines that William won from monkish
chroniclers the name of ‘Good’--not that these wars were very glorious or very justifiable. About 1180 a great
fleet, carrying, it is said, 80,000 men, was sent across the Adriatic and captured Durazzo. It then sailed round to Thessalonica,
which was also taken. But a furious tempest, such as wrecked the fleet of Darius off Athos [Susan note], is said to have caused
the loss of 10,000 lives; and this disaster was scarcely counterbalanced by a great naval victory won afterwards over the
Greek fleet near Cyprus. William also sent ships to the East, though he did not himself join in the third Crusade, when, as
we have seen, the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin in 1187, incited so many princes--among them the young Richard Coeur-de-Lion
and the aged Barbarossa--to undertake in person the recovery of the Holy City.
Not long before Frederick Barbarossa started for the East--whence he never returned--the marriage of his son Henry with
the heiress of the Norman kingdom of the Two Sicilies took place at Milan. William had no children. Some three years before
his death, on the urgent advice of his English
412
counsellor, Of a Mill, he took the disastrous decision--disastrous for the future of Italian patriotism--to favour this
marriage of his aunt Constance with the Hohenstaufen prince. It is asserted by some old writers that the princess Constance,
now middle-aged, was taken out of a convent in order to be married. Dante, who accepts this story and places her soul in the
sphere of the inconstant moon, speaks (through the mouth of Beatrice) of her ‘affection for the veil’ and gives
us a sermon of vows broken voluntarily or through compulsion. Machiavelli asserts that Pope Celestine III (an evident error,
for Celestine was not Pope till 1192) trasse di monastero Gostanza, gi vecchia figliuola di Guglielmo, in order to
give her as wife to Henry. Anyhow, willingly or unwillingly, she was married to the German--and a hundred and fifty horses
bore to Milan their loads of gold and silver and precious stuffs, the dowry of the bride who was destined to become the mother
(15) of the ‘Wonder of the World.”
With the death of William the Good the dynasty of the Norman kings of Sicily came to an end. Illegitimate claimants appeared
on the scene, but as we shall see later, the Hohenstaufen cause prevailed. (16)
INSERT FIG 36
1 It was in 897 that Alfred succeeded in expelling the Danish Northmen from England--for a time.
2 Their native language, the lingua Danica, as it is called by chroniclers, is said to have been no longer understood
at Rouen by about the year 970. It lingered longest at Bayeux. William the Conqueror was fond of using it. Relics are found
in a few names, such as Bec (= beck, Bach, a brook), Caudebec, etc.
3 Gibbon, who does not mention the siege of Salerno, but gives a picturesque account of this other episode, speaks of Melus
as ‘a stranger in the Greek habit, who soon revealed himself as a rebel and a mortal foe of the Greek Empire.’
Other writers say that he was of Lombard origin, and so probably, to judge from his name, was Guaimar (Weimar). If so, doubtless
the common Northern origin helped towards an understanding. How the pilgrims got to Gargano, and whether it was before or
after their exploit at Salerno, is not explained.
4 See Gibbon, ch. lvi.
5 It seems that he was excommunicated for having taken Monte Cassino and turned the monks out. Matthew Paris relates that
he effected the capture by introducing himself as a dead man lying on a bier--a device worthy of his cognomen. Dante places
Robert Guiscard in the great Red Cross of Mars in Paradise, evidently on account of his later submission to the Church and
his wars against the Sicilian Saracens.
6 It really seems as if Robert Guiscard had the ‘colossal ambition of uniting in his own person the divided Empire
of the Romans’ (Okey).
7 His long reign as Doge is memorable for the many splendid marbles with which he adorned the newly reconstructed St. Mark’s.
8 He was buried at Venusia--Horace’s birthplace--where his tomb is to be seen in the abbey church of S. Trinit.
9 Possibly the father of Thomas Becket, the archbishop.
10 Siciliae et Italiae Rex was sometimes his rather ambitious signature. The expression ‘the Two Sicilies’
seems of somewhat later date.
11 It will be noticed that the kingship of the continental territories is not mentioned.
12 Norman-French doubtless remained the home-language, perhaps the court-language, of the princes and the veterans for
some time. But the Normans evidently had the gift of assimilation, as proved by the rapid disappearance of the lingua Danica
in Normandy. Also by this time doubtless the Sicilian-Italian was largely in use as a lingua volgare.
13 It is ever again a matter of surprise that these Norman princes should have been so anxious to profess themselves feudatories
of the Papacy; and how the Popes upheld their fictitious right to confer investitures is also a puzzle.
14 Par. xx, 62. The star-like souls of William the Good, of Ripheus the Trojan, Hezekiah, Trajan, and Constantine
the Great form the circle of the Eagle’s eye, in the centre of which blazes the soul of King David.
15 Or, as Dante puts it (Par. iii): ‘to bear to the second wind of Suabia [Henry VI] the third and latest
potentate [of that dynasty, viz. Frederick II].’
16 See table of Norman Dukes and Kings. For the churches and palaces of Palermo during the Norman supremacy see ch. ix
of this Part. The very striking gifts and the nobler characteristics of Frederick were certainly not derived from the stupid
and brutal ferocity of his father, Henry the Cruel, but from his Norman mother. A Norman Conquest might have done for Italy
what it has done for England.
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CHAPTER III
THE RISE OF THE REPUBLICS
UNTIL c. 1200
Partly owing to the incompleteness of their conquests and partly to racial differences none of the invaders and foreign
overlords of Italy had succeeded in founding an Italian nation. The forces which under some conditions draw various peoples
together into one nation manifested themselves in medieval Italy, as they did in ancient Greece, in local patriotism and the
formation of a number of independent cities, which, having no organic cohesion, were doomed, like the cities of Greece, never
to coalesce into any true confederation, such as forms the stable body of the modern constitutional republic or limited monarchy,
but were in a constant process of disintegration, except when temporarily held together by external pressure. Internally too
the Greek and the Italian cities had experiences which, being the effects of similar forces acting under somewhat similar
conditions, offer many analogies and some curious contrasts. (1) Their domestic, religious, and political feuds, their revolutions,
the phases of democracy, oligarchy, and despotism through which many of them passed, afford interesting material to the student
of comparative politics. But here it must suffice to relate briefly the rise of these Italian communes, following their development
up to the end of the twelfth century--the epoch of the Peace of Constanz--and giving a few details in connexion with some
of the important cities.
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Republicanism found of course no opportunity for development under the military despotisms of Goths, Byzantines, Lombards,
or Saracens, and it was detested by the civil and clerical feudalism of the revived Empire. The instinctive yearning for liberty
and self-rule did indeed, as it was bound to do, give evidence of its existence. (2) The resentment against foreign domination
ever and again, from the time of Theoderic onward, found vehement expression--as, for instance, in the serious riots which,
at Rome and elsewhere, often accompanied the imperial coronations--and when during the weak rule of the Carolingian princes
and the anarchy of the succeeding period many cities were left to fight their own battles against various foes--Saracens,
Magyars, Byzantines, Lombard dukes, or rival municipalities--it was natural that they should learn to depend on their own
resources and to assert their independence.
We have already seen (part III, ch. iii) how Venice in early days took advantage of its natural position to form a confederacy
of its island towns and to liberate itself both from the Eastern and from the Western Empire. In the south too we find at
an early period several maritime cities such as Naples, Gaeta, Salerno, and Amalfi, (3) asserting independence--not always
republican in form--and developing very considerable wealth through their commerce, and sea-power through their fleets, by
means of which they made a gallant stand against the Moslem invaders, against Byzantine oppressors, and against the Normans,
until they were finally incorporated
415
in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies. When the independence of these southern maritime cities was extinguished by the Normans,
although the Normans by no means extinguished their commerce, a great part of the eastern trade passed into the hands of the
Pisans, Genoese, and Venetians. At the beginning of the eleventh century the fleets of Pisa and Genoa had succeeded in occupying
Sardinia and in driving the Saracens from the Ligurian and Tuscan coasts and seas, (4) and from this time onwards these two
cities, under the rule of their republican consuls and popular assemblies, increased rapidly both by land and by sea, Pisa
becoming mistress of the Tuscan and the Roman Maremma from Spezia to Civitavecchia, as well as of Sardinia and the Balearic
Isles, while Genoa occupied most of the Riviera and disputed with Pisa the possession of Corsica. Both cities also took prominent
part in the Crusades and extended their commerce in rivalry to the East, (5) outvying for centuries all other sea-powers except
Venice; for Venice had the double advantage of standing in close relationship to the Byzantine Empire and of being an emporium
and transit-station for Oriental merchandise destined for Western and Northern Europe, which were now beginning to import
largely the culture and the luxuries of older civilizations.
In passing it may be noticed how with the rise of these Italian republics the ‘bane of republics’ at once began
to spread its poison. No sooner did Pisa and Genoa attain sea-power by their victories over the Saracens than they turned
their fleets against each other and began those pitiable conflicts
516
among the free cities which for centuries drained the life-blood of Italy. And in order to extinguish some of their rivals
they even lent their fleets to foreign oppressors and foes of republican liberty. (6)
Beside the maritime cities (among which Venice held of course a conspicuous place and will claim our attention later) there
remain for consideration the Lombard and Tuscan cities and also Rome.
The attempts of the Roman people to refound the Republic have been described in the Historical Outline. That these attempts,
though for a time crowned with success, should have ended in failure is scarcely surprising when we consider not only the
endless conflicts between the Popes and the nobles, but also the fact that, although there was great wealth in the hands of
the feudal nobility both lay and ecclesiastic, the city itself had no such trade as that which formed the foundation of the
new Communes. Rome was not a port and a sea-power. It was not the centre of a productive region. It possessed no large and
wealthy mercantile burgher class. The population consisted almost entirely of mob and aristocracy--two classes far more widely
separated than the plebeians and patricians of earlier days--and between them stood only a small middle class, the members
of the military scholae (city-militia), who had certain political rights and were allowed to be freeholders, and whose
one great ambition it was to gain admission to the ranks of the nobility.
In former chapters many points of interest have been touched upon in connexion with the earlier history of the more important
cities of Northern and Central Italy. Here we must limit our attention to some of those which took prominent
417
part in the great republican movement of the twelfth century against Frederick I. This movement was at first confined to
a few Lombard cities, among which the chief were Milan, Brescia, Piacenza, Parma, and Modena (as against the imperialistic
Pavia, Como, Lodi, Cremona, and others), but the League was ere long joined by cities lying more to the east, namely Verona,
Padua, Bologna, Mantua, and Vicenza. These where headed by Venice. (7)
Such an outburst as that which caused the formation of the Lombard league must have been the result of deep and widespread
influences that had been at work for many years. Some of these influences we have already noted in the case of the republican
movements n the maritime cities. In the case of most of the inland cities of Lombardy and Tuscany the frequent presence, or
passage, of powerful German armies doubtless prevented the early development of republicanism, and it was evidently first
during the fierce and long-drawn wars of the Investitures (c. 1073-1122) that these cities began to realize their
own importance as allies and as strongholds and to join one side or other of the great feud, as seemed likely to forward their
interests. Florence, as we have seen in a former chapter, was, together with much of Tuscany, long under rulers vehemently
hostile to German imperialism, and when on the death of Countess Matilda in 1115 the city acquired a certain measure of self-rule
its sentiments remained for many years strongly Guelf. But neither Florence nor any other Tuscan towns--some of which were
its enemies and violently Ghibelline--took any active share in the wars between the republics and Frederick, although by this
time many of these Tuscan towns (such as Siena, Volterra, and S. Gimignano) had asserted their right to rule themselves
418
by means of yearly elected consuls (8)--an example ere long to be followed by many other cities of Central Italy, such
as Spoleto, Assisi, Perugia, and Foligno.
The story of the conflict between the allied republics and Frederick Barbarossa has been told elsewhere. We may therefore
now turn our thoughts for a short time to the internal history of the two most important cities of the League, Venice and
Milan, without any further anxiety as to fitting our facts very exactly into the framework of wars and general politics.
VENICE (800-1200)
A slight sketch of the history of Venice, or rather of Venetia, from its first origins to the days of Charles the Great
has already been given (Part III, ch. iii). I purpose to give here a few more items of interest from its annals down to the
thirteenth century. It will be remembered that the ineffectual attempt of Pipin, the son of Charles, to conquer the Venetians
resulted in the foundation of the new capital on the banks of the Rivoalto--a site which had proved impregnable. The commander
of the gallant islanders who had defied the might of the Frankish invader was elected Doge (811). He, Agnello Partecipazio,
was the first Doge of Venice, though there had already been ten Doges of Maritime Venetia, the first, Anafesto, having been
elected as early as 697. In 813 the seat of government was formally transferred to the Rivoalto. Here, on the western bank
of the ‘Deep Stream,’ or Grand Canal, where it was later (in 1173) spanned by the first wooden Rialto bridge,
had for some three or four centuries existed the market-place of these islanders--the Campo di Rialto--and
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their earliest Church, S. Giacomo, which was founded, tradition says, in the year 421. (9) On the eastern bank of the canal
stood amidst a grassy campo--the Broglio or Brolo--the ancient church of S. Teodoro, the first patron-saint of Venice,
which had been erected (if annals do not lie) nigh three centuries before the days of Partecipazio by Byzantine builders summoned
from Constantinople by Narses (see p. 287). Near it was soon built, perhaps by Partecipazio’s son and successor, the
original Palace of the Doges. (10) Also the original church of S. Zaccaria now arose in order to receive the supposed body
of John the Baptist’s father (11) and to serve as the burying-place of the early Doges.
INSERT SKETCH
VENETIAN COIN OF c. 800
See p. xxvii
About 828 the supposed body of St. Mark was brought to Venice, stolen from his tomb in Alexandria, if the tale told by
the pious thieves is to be credited, and saved from the impious quest of pagan Saracens by being suspended on the ship’s
mast and covered over with swine’s flesh. A chapel (memoria) was erected on the Broglio to receive the relic.
In 976 a great conflagration destroyed this memorial chapel, and also, at least to some extent, the ducal palace. This
occurred during the short reign of that Doge Pietro Orseolo I who, as was related in an earlier chapter, was persuaded by
St. Romuald of Ravenna to turn hermit, or recluse, and left Venice by stealth (see p. 343). Orseolo is said to have sent to
Constantinople for skilled builders and to have spent all his wealth in reconstructing the chapel, or perhaps in
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beginning the construction of the much larger church which slowly rose on the same site.
That Venice already in these early days, in spite of the wonderful growth of its commerce and its sea-power and in spite
of its apparently stable system of government, was exposed to dangers similar to those from which all other Italian Communes
had to suffer is evident from the many and serious intrigues and disorder of which we hear in connexion with the election
of the Doges, and the many feuds and factions that seem to have taken permanent root in the city. As an illustration of this
we may note that in the reign of Memo--a weak and bad man, deposed in 991 on suspicion of murder--the powerful family of the
Caloprini very nearly succeeded in sacrificing their native city in order to wreak vengeance on their political rivals, the
Morosini; for they fled to the court of Otto II and induced him to bring a powerful fleet and army against Venice, where their
partisans were ready to aid the besiegers by treason. Fortunately for Venice, the death of Otto frustrated the design.
Memo was followed by one of the greatest of the Doges, Pietro Orseolo II, who first started Venice on her career of conquest
as a great Mediterranean sea-power by overcoming the Croats and Adriatic pirates and annexing Dalmatia. Henceforth the title
'Doge of Dalmatia' was borne by the Venetian Doge, and Venice herself claimed to be mistress of the Adriatic--a claim that
found expression in a festival called the Sensa, in which the State barges sailed out into the open sea and the Doge
was ‘asperged’ with salt water by the bishop. This festival in later times (c. 1180) was developed into
the picturesque ceremony of the Sposalizio--the wedding of Venice to the Adriatic--a ceremony which was not discontinued
till 1797, about eight hundred years after the first institution of the Sensa. Orseolo II excited great admiration
in the sentimental mind of Otto III. It will be remembered that this pious and hysterical prince harboured designs, never
to be fulfilled, of withdrawing from the world, as the first Doge Orseolo had done, and that for a time
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he lived in retirement in the monastery of Classe, near Ravenna, where St. Romuald vainly endeavoured to overcome his vacillation.
During this sojourn at Ravenna (about 1000) Otto is said to have visited Venice ‘disguised in mean attire,’ and
to have been ‘moved to tears’ at the glories of the newly reconstructed cathedral and the ducal palace. But in
spite of tears Doge Orseolo seems not to have promised--or anyhow not to have lent--the Venetian fleet, which Otto was very
anxious to procure in order to forward certain designs not of a religious nature.
By the year 1032 so many of the Doges had been deposed, disgraced, or even killed, often on the suspicion that they aimed
at founding hereditary despotisms, that the Arengo passed laws which were doubtless meant as steps towards democracy, but
proved to be steps in the opposite direction. Hitherto the Doge had possessed powers almost absolute, though he was elected
and deposed by the popular voice. Thus the Venetian state was a republic which delegated kingly powers to its president; and
when this proved a dangerous experiment, instead of moving (as the Norman kings of Sicily had moved) in the direction of representative
popular government, the Arengo limited the powers of the Doge by giving him two consiglieri and compelling him to ‘invite’
other prominent citizens to give him their advice in matters of grave importance. These privy councillors and this chamber
of the Pregadi (“Invited’) neutralized the absolutism of the Doges, but were themselves the nucleus from
which sprang the Venetian oligarchical tyranny and the Council of Ten, of sinister fame.
Fifty years later (1082-84) took place the war waged by Venice, as ally of the Eastern Emperor Alexius, against Robert
Guiscard, and the disastrous sea-fight near Durazzo (p. 405) which resulted in the serious crippling of the Venetian fleet
and the deposition of Doge Selvo. But from this misfortune Venice soon recovered. The death of Robert Guiscard in 1085 was
followed by the withdrawal of the Normans from the Eastern Adriatic, and thereupon the Venetian Doge resumed his title as
Duke of Dalmatia. From this time we may date the
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rapid development of Venetian power in the Eastern Mediterranean.
Doge Selvo, whose reign of thirteen years came to such a tragic conclusion, is said to have adorned the new St. Mark’s
with many precious marbles and with Byzantine mosaics, as he had done in the case of S. Giacomo di Rialto. (12) A new building,
on the plan of the ancient church of the Holy Apostles at Constantinople, had been perhaps begun by Doge Orseolo I soon after
the conflagration of 976, but whether Orseolo’s building was destroyed by another fire or was never completed, and was
demolished, is unknown. Anyhow the reconstruction of St. Mark’s in the Byzantine style is usually dated from about 1065--
shortly before Selvo’s reign. (That the remains of the old memorial chapel and the still more ancient church of S. Teodoro
were incorporated in the new building is proved by the fact that some thirty years ago portions of these churches were discovered
in the present edifice.) In 1094 the new and magnificent church was ready for consecration; but since the great fire of 976
the body of St. Mark had disappeared--apparently devoured by the flames. The wondrous story of its opportune recovery--its
miraculous self-revelation by perfume and an extended gold-ringed hand--need not here be narrated. To those of us who may
be slow to accept the legend as represented by Venetian artists conviction may be brought by the statement that in 1811 the
recovered body, or what did duty for it, was discovered in the crypt of the church, and that on the finger was found the famous
gold ring, and not far off a metal plate inscribed with the date October 8, 1094, and the name of Selvo’s successor,
Doge Vitale Falieri.
Among those who at this time visited Venice to pay reverence to the recovered body of the saint (13) and to see the new
cathedral
INSERT FIG 37
423
with its Oriental mosaics and marbles was Henry IV. He was accorded a magnificent reception, and in return for privileges
vouchsafed to Venetian merchants he probably received the promise of aid from the Venetian fleets against his many enemies--for
at this period of his reign he was not only still engaged in his desperate struggle against the Papacy and against revolted
cities in all parts of Italy, but was already being involved in the more tragic conflict with his own sons.
In the first and second Crusades (1095-99 and 1147-49) the Venetians took a brilliant part, perhaps more from commercial
than from religious motives--pace Mr. Ruskin, who assures his ‘cockney friends’ that though Venice was
intensely covetous she was sincerely pious, and that she was covetous not merely of money but of fame and marble pillars.
Perhaps as evidence of her commercial jealousy we may note the fact that in the first Crusade she had a very severe and victorious
naval combat with the Pisans off Rhodes, and as a specimen of her covetousness of marble pillars we may call to mind the three
magnificent columns brought home in 1127 by Doge Michieli, who had gone to the East to succour King Baldwin of Jerusalem,
had inflicted a terrible defeat on the Saracen fleet off Jaffa, had helped to capture Tyre, and on his homeward voyage had
seized and ravaged many islands belonging to the Eastern Emperor. Among the splendid spoils that he brought in triumph to
Venice were the corpses of two saints already mentioned and these three great columns--one of which still lies somewhere in
the Grand Canal, while the other two were with very great difficulty erected by the skill of a Lombard engineer, Barattieri,
and have stood for the last seven hundred years and more in the Piazzetta. (14)
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In 1172 another change was made in the constitution. The Doge’s authority was again limited, but once more what was
doubtless believed by the people to be a measure tending towards democracy really increased the power of the nobles. The sestieri
(six wards of the city) were nominally allowed to elect the great annual Council; but although in the first instance this
body was elected by twelve nominees of the wards, after the first year the council itself chose the twelve electors. It thus
became practically self-elective. It also delegated a small committee of its members to choose the Doge. Thus the people were
defrauded of their elective powers.
In 1177 took place at Venice the dramatic meeting of Frederick Barbarossa and Pope Alexander III. The scene has already
been slightly sketched (p. 374). During the third Crusade (1189-92)--the Crusade in which Frederick Barbarossa lost his life--the
Venetians were once more induced by commercial and perhaps other motives to send a powerful fleet to the East, where they
distinguished themselves at the relief of Tyre and the siege of Acre.
In 1193 was elected as Doge the famous Enrico Dandolo, whose name perhaps first became familiar to some of us through Byron’s
well-known line--though whether we are right in calling him ‘blind old Dandolo’ seems doubtful. (15) During half
a century he had already distinguished himself greatly both in diplomacy and in war, and although he was now about eighty-five
years of age we shall hear much more of him in a later chapter--for at the age of ninety-seven he was twice captor of Constantinople,
and his feats at the storming of this city have invested him with a nimbus of fame which even the iniquity and the horrors
of this so-called fourth Crusade have failed to dim.
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MILAN
The story of Milan offers a very striking contrast to that of Venice. It was neither a sea-power nor a wealthy trade-mart.
It possessed no natural defences, and lying close to the northern gates of Italy it has ever been the prey of invaders, and
probably more than any other European city, except perhaps Rome, has suffered from devastation and enslavement ever since
the fall of the Roman Empire down to our days. Venice though not by any means always a model of political freedom, was autonomous
under her own Doges during eleven centuries (697-1797), whereas Milan was twice almost totally razed to the ground, and, except
for about two centuries (1076-1277) of stormy and precarious republican liberty, groaned during all these long ages under
taskmasters of many nationalities. (16)
Of Roman Mediolanum, although from the days of Diocletian to those of Attila it was the residence of the western Emperors
and is said to have equalled Rome in extent and importance, there is scarce a relic extant save the sixteen Corinthian columns
in the Corso della Porta Ticinese. From the age of St. Ambrose and St. Augustine have survived probably only certain parts
of the basilica of St. Ambrogio (wholly reconstructed in the ninth century), and although the Franks and Burgundian, who in
538 sacked the city and massacred, according to Procopius, 300,000 of the inhabitants, are said to have spared a few churches,
the oldest complete edifice in Milan is probably S. Lorenzo, which was built (17) on the foundations of a Roman temple a few
years after this catastrophe.
Ever since the time of St. Ambrose the Church of Milan, like that of Ravenna, was inclined to assert its independence of
Rome, and in seasons of danger or disorder after the fall of the Lombard kingdom the Archbishops of Milan sometimes
426
took the lead in the city and assumed the reins of civil government. A striking example of this is seen in the case of
Archbishop Aribert (Heribert, or Herbert), who for about ten years, 1035 to 1045, made stand against the Emperors Conrad II
and Henry III. At first he was an imperialist (for his coronation of Conrad and Gisela see p. 348) and headed the hereditary
nobles against the people and the petty nobility (vavasors); but he was suspected and arrested by Conrad. Finally he
set himself at the head of the popular party and defied the imperialist nobles and the forces of the Emperor, who attacked
Milan, but died while it was still being besieged. Aribert seems to have inspired almost the whole of the citizens with enthusiasm
for freedom from the German oppressor and successfully repelled the besiegers. An invention of his, adopted later by other
Italian cities, (18) proved very effective in arousing and concentrating patriotic ardour. This was the Carroccio,
which, like the Ark of the Israelites, accompanied the citizens to the field of battle--a car drawn by oxen and surmounted
by a mast bearing a large crucifix and by a yardarm from which waved two ensigns. From this car, or from another that followed
it, resounded the bell that gave signals to the fighters.
In spite of his successes Aribert found himself in a very unpleasant position as the opponent of the aristocratic party,
to which as a champion of the independent Milanese Church and of the marriage of clerics he naturally belonged. The Cluny
reformers and Hildebrand, who represented the cause of the Papacy and of celibacy, favoured the Milanese popular party, as
he did, but were bitterly hostile to the autonomy of the Milanese Church of St. Ambrose, of which he, as also the nobility,
was a zealous advocate. Finally he withdrew into private life, and shortly afterwards (1045) he died. After his death fierce
conflicts took place, the people fighting for
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political freedom and religious enslavement, while the nobility, fiercely demanding liberty for their Church and their
married clergy, were ready to betray their civic freedom to the foreign foe. At last the papal and popular party gained the
upper hand; the married priests were chased from the churches and their wives insulted in public by the women of the city.
A deacon of the Roman church, Erlembald, seized the supreme power and governed Milan for some time with a Council of Thirty,
proving such a zealous champion of the papal party that the Pope dubbed him with the title il Gonfaloniere della Chiesa.
But there were still many who were devoted to their Ambrosian Church, and when in a tumult Erlembald was slain the Milanese
determined to appeal for an archbishop, not to Gregory, but to Henry IV--an act that brought down on Milan thunderbolts from
the Papal Chair.
Not long after this we first hear of Consuls at Milan. It seems as if the Milanese had made up their minds to subordinate
their religious differences to their republican freedom. For some sixty or seventy years little is recorded--a fact doubtless
due to a period of comparative peace and prosperity. About 1154 the curtain rises on the momentous conflict between Frederick
Barbarossa and the Lombard cities, and, as we know, Milan was the centre--the Carroccio, as it were--around which
the battle gathered. The fortunes of the battle, and of Milan, we have already followed.
FLORENCE (DOWN TO 1200)
La bellissima e famosissima figlia di roma, Fiorenz
DANTE
In connexion with Florence, which later will become the chief centre of our interest, there is comparatively little of
general importance to record during these four centuries, and the subject is dismissed curtly not only by the Tacitean Machiavelli,
but even by Sismondi in his sixteen-volume work on the Italian Republics. There are however various details which merely through
their association with the ‘fairest daughter of Rome’ exercise a fascination on all who love
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Italian art and Italian architecture. I shall here recapitulate very briefly what is known of the early fortunes of the
city and then touch on a few of these details, without attempting to give them any historical continuity.
Florentia was originally doubtless nothing but the river-station of the Etruscan and Gallic hill-fortress of Faesulae.
It first grew into a town when the pax Romana after the wars of Marius and Sulla afforded more security to the lowlands.
Faesulae served as the headquarters of Catiline’s army. On its capture its great Etruscan walls (of which remnants still
survive) were probably entirely dismantled; but the town continued to exist. Florentia, according to tradition, was founded
by Julius Caesar. He probably enlarged and walled it, as Romulus did in the case of Roma quadrata, like a Roman camp.
He furnished it with baths and temples and a citadel and an amphitheatre, and populated it not only with Fiesolans but with
Roman coloni. (19) A possible relic of Roman Florentia may survive in the lower portions of the Baptistery, (20) which
according to the old historian Villani (d. 1348) was originally a temple of Mars, the patron-god of Florence. Another
very interesting relic, which finally disappeared in the great flood of 1333, twelve years after Dante’s death, was
a statue of Mars. It perhaps once stood in this temple. It was afterwards placed on a column near the river, and was overthrown
by Goths and lay for centuries in, or near, the water. When the Ponte Vecchio was rebuilt--some say by Charles the Great,
INSERT FIG 38
429
though it was probably not till about 1180--the weatherworn remnant of this statue was placed at the head of the bridge,
where it became an object of sinister associations; for nigh this ‘mutilated stone’ that guarded the bridge, Dante
tells us, was sacrificed to the god of war the young Buondelmonte; and his murder caused the outbreak of the great feud of
Neri and Bianchi in Florence.
To return to earlier days--it may be remembered how, about the year 405, Florence together with Fiesole was besieged by
Radegast and his vast army of Northern barbarians, and how Stilicho came to the rescue and smote the invaders. Old Villani
ascribes the rescue to the prayers of the great first Bishop of Florence, St. Zenobius--the legends and ceremonies connected
with whom are known to most who have visited Florence. A hundred and fifty years later Totila is said to have sacked the city,
destroying everything but the Baptistery--a deed that Dante wrongly attributes to Attila. Then--after another lapse of centuries--we
hear of it being visited by Charles the Great, who, as tradition and an inscription on the faade assert, founded the small
basilica of the Santi Apostoli and caused it to be consecrated by Archbishop Turpin in the presence of Orlando and other of
his paladins (!).
During the supremacy of the Carolingians and the tumultuous times of the so-called regno d’Italia indipendente
there is little certain to record. That the city was now flourishing is apparent from the frequent visits paid to it by
Emperors, such as the Ottos, and from the fact that many fine Romanesque buildings are mentioned by chroniclers. Among these
we may specially note S. Miniato, which Machiavelli says was founded by Henry II in 1002. It is the only complete specimen
of all these Romanesque churches still extant in Florence.
Under Otto II and Otto III Florence was ruled (till 1001, or perhaps 1006) by the famous Marquess Ugo of Brandenburg--il
gran barone, as he is called by Dante, ancestor of five noble Florentine families--whose tomb, sculptured by Mino da Fiesole,
is to be seen in the Bada (the Abbey Church, founded
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by his mother, Countess Willa, in 978). His successor, Marquess Boniface, who extended his rule as Duke of Ferrara, Modena,
and Mantua, was the father of that countess Matilda of whom we have heard so much.
Under Boniface (d. 1052) and his widow Beatrice (d. 1076) and their daughter Matilda (d. 1115) Florence
became an important commercial centre and extended herself beyond the cerchia antica of her old walls, from the bells
within which she continued even till the times of Dante to ‘take her tierces and nones.’ This was the Golden Age
of Florence that is so graphically described by old Cacciaguida in the Paradiso. The city was wholly Guelf in sentiment,
and the vile intestinal feuds had not yet been introduced. Men and women lived the simple life of the old heroic age. They
could think of something nobler than murdering fellow-citizens. Cacciaguida himself, as we know already, girded on the sword
of a Crusader and followed the Emperor Conrad III to the East, where fighting the infidel he was slain--'unswathed from the
fallacious world,' to use his own quaint phrase recorded by Dante. And we are told how another Florentine Crusader, one of
the noble family of the Pazzi, brought from Jerusalem fragments of the Holy Sepulchre, from which the bishop in the presence
of an excited multitude struck fire and lighted therewith the candles on the high altar--a fact that is still commemorated
by the Easter ceremony of the white dove, the columbina della casa de’ Pazzi, which brings the same sacred never-extinguished
fire from the altar of the Duomo to explode the fireworks on the carro de’ Pazzi in the Piazza.
About 1063, during the rule of Countess Beatrice and her second husband, Godfrey of Lorraine, occurred an outburst of popular
feeling the violence and obstinacy of which prove how independent and headstrong the Florentines were becoming. The Emperor
Henry IV, who, as we know, quarrelled with the Popes on the subject of the election and investiture of bishops, and who had
elected many of his own German bishops, tried to force a bishop named Mezzabarba on Florence; by his enemies he is even accused
of having sold the bishopric to
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the man. For nearly five years incessant tumults raged. In vain did the Pope send Pietro Damiano to restore peace. Finally
a champion appeared--a zealot monk--who offered to stand the test of fire, and, unlike poor Savonarola, did so, it is said,
unscathed. Thereupon he was made bishop and Mezzabarba had to disappear.
In 1114, one year before the death of Matilda, the Pisans--afterwards so hated by Florence that Dante rails at them as
‘foxes full of fraud’ and as ‘the disgrace of the beautiful land where s is heard’--begged
the Florentines to guard their country against Lucca while they were absent on their Balearic expedition. This the Florentines
did, and they received as a gift the two beautiful porphyry columns which flank the eastern portal of their Baptistery and
Ghiberti’s bronze doors. It seems an act of mean revenge that the Florentines should have later suspended from these
very columns the harbour chains captured by the Genoese from the Pisans. However, reparation has been made in our age, and
the chains now hang in Pisa’s Campo Santo.
In her famous Legacy Countess Matilda seems to have assumed rights of private ownership which even the most absolute of
feudal monarchs would scarcely have claimed. She attempted to bequeath to the church, and to the Pope as the representative
of the Church, not only her allodial possessions but apparently the whole of the Tuscan territory, consisting mainly of fiefs
that under the feudal system reverted to the Empire. This Legacy brought many evils in its train, but for Florence it was
a blessing in disguise, seeing that the attempted alienation of the state’s territory on the failure of hereditary rulers
incited the city to assert republican freedom.
The system of communal government that was gradually introduced will occupy our attention on later occasions. It is here
sufficient to notice that the one real bulwark of popular power consisted in the merchant guilds (Arti) by means of
which the middle classes, ever more influential through commerce and the crafts, combined against the nobles. A feat that
confirmed the self-confidence of the citizens and made
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them realize their strength was the capture and destruction of Fiesole, which, although no longer a strong fortress, had
begun to prove a thorn in the side of the young republic.
In 1173 the city was surrounded by its new (second) circle of walls. These included a much larger space than the old Florentia
Quadrata, though as Professor Gardner says) much which we are wont to regard as essential to Florence stands outside them.
A few years later the popular government was for a time overthrown by a rising of the nobles, headed by the German family
of the Uberti--ancestors of that Farinata degli Uberti whom Dante saw in the Inferno rising from his fiery tomb in gloomy
and proud defiance, ‘as if he held hell in great contempt,’ but who surely, as the saviour of Florence from utter
destruction after the rout on the Arbia, deserved a better fate.
INSERT DRAWING
FLORENTINE COINS OF c. 1200
See p. xxviii.
The Uberti deposed the republican Consuls and wielded the supreme power for about two years (1177-79), but the popular
party proved the victor, and in spite of the attempted suppression of their commune by Frederick Barbarossa they finally compelled
the nobles to submit themselves to the popular magistrate (21) and to take up their abode, to a certain extent at least, within
the new circle of the walls and the new city wards (Sestieri). This arrangement was doubtless deemed necessary, but
it introduced a new and terrible danger, for these nobles took to building impregnable strongholds within the precincts of
the city (22) and formed so-called ‘Tower
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Societies’ (Societ (Susan note) delle Torre) in opposition to the Arti or Merchant Guilds.
Moreover, finding themselves in such close quarters, they naturally began to fight one with another. Things came to a crisis
in 1215, when, as has been already mentioned, young Buondelmonte was murdered to revenge the slight that he had cast on the
noble family of the Amidei, relatives of the Uberti, by jilting his fiance and marrying a maiden of the Donati clan.
This caused the outburst of those family feuds which, complicated with the Guelf and Ghibelline political factions, were to
prove so disastrous to Florence for many years to come.
1 The Papacy--a political power possessed of enchanted weapons, so to speak--had scarcely its counterpart in Greek history,
although Delphic priestcraft was often a powerful agent. In regard to pitiable internal discords and to traitorous collusion
with a foreign foe--Persian, Macedonian, Saracen, German--there is little to choose between Greece and Italy.
2 Some have tried to trace the Italian Commune back to the Roman municipium, others to the popular elements in the
Lombard system of government; but the real source is doubtless to be sought in the human breast.
3 Amalfi, now a fishing village nestling amid steep crags that overhand the Bay of Salerno, was in those days a city of
50,000 inhabitants. Under its Doges and, later, under Norman rule it extended its commerce to Egypt, Syria, and Arabia, and
took a conspicuous part in transporting the early Crusaders to the East. An evidence of its sea-power are the Tavole Amalfitane,
a maritime code which was used through the whole Mediterranean. From a hospital founded by Amalfi in Jerusalem the Knights
Hospitallers took their name. All the lower town of Amalfi has been swept away by inundations.
4 The Saracens had till now dominated Sardinia, Corsica, the Balearic Isles, a great part of Spain and North Africa. They
had even plundered Genoa (936) and burnt a part of the city of the Pisans and extended their ravages down to Ostia. In Sicily
they were supreme till conquered by the Normans (1070-90).
5 The Pisans followed up the conquest of Sardinia and Corsica by defeating the Saracens off Tunis and, in 1063, destroying
a great Moslem fleet off Palermo. In 1114 they took the Balearic Isles. The zenith of the Pisan maritime power may perhaps
be marked by the date 1203, the year in which they transported the fifty-three shiploads of earth from Jerusalem to form their
Campo Santo. Eighty years later their sea-power was crushed at Meloria by the Genoese and Florentines.
6 For instance, they often lent ships to Frederick I and Henry VI. Imperial avour (Susan note) confirmed, it is true, many
of their liberties and aided them against rival cities, but these staunchly Ghibelline and cantankerous 'republics' are a
somewhat discreditable phenomenon--one which it is pleasant to view merely as a background to the rusty chains now hung up
in the Campo Santo--old war-trophies given back to Pisa by Genoa and Florence in the nineteenth century, when Italy was proving
worthy to become a nation.
7 Ravenna seems to have kept aloof and was imperialistic in sentiment. It was under imperial Podest, and later
under the Polenta. Ferrara was ruled by Margraves of Este from the days of Henry IV down to those of Tasso--more than five
hundred years. Bologna was made a free city by Henry V in 1112 (whence its ensign ‘Liberty’) and joined the League;
but first in 1228 it ejected its nobles and introduced a full republican system, like that of Florence.
8 After the death of Countess Matilda (1115) Siena asserted its independence, and soon afterwards adopted (unless, as tradition
asserts, they had long ago been granted by Charles or Otto the Great) as its ensign a white lion on a red field and the motto
‘Liberty.’ About this time too Siena produced that great and successful adversary of Frederick, Pope Alexander
III. Later the nobles gained the upper hand, and it was with the help of Siena that the Florentine Ghibelline exiles won the
bloody battle of Montaperti, on the Arbia (1260). S. Gimignano, first mentioned in the tenth century and long subject to Volterra,
won its independence before 1200 and had its consuls and councils.
9 Entirely rebuilt and furnished with Greek mosaics by Doge Selvo in 1073 and reconstructed on another site in 1322. See
Ruskin’s ‘St. James of the Deep Stream’ in his St. Mark’s Rest.
10 Burnt and rebuilt in 976 and again in 1025, and subsequently much altered.
11 A present from the Eastern Emperor Leo. The present church, built c. 1470 on the same site, just to the east
of the ducal palace, contains no ascertained relic of the original building.
12 See p. 419 n. Selvo’s love for Byzantine architecture and mosaics was doubtless encouraged by his wife,
a Greek princess di tanta delicatezza that she used to bathe in dew and use a golden fork, instead of her fingers,
to carry food to her mouth (Okey’s Venice).
13 The extent to which the dead bodies of saints (some perhaps genuine) bulk in the history of Venice is remarkable. We
hear, for instance, of St. Stephen’s body, stolen from Constantinople; of a hand of John the Baptist and the corpse
of his father, both given by Eastern Emperors; of the bodies of S. Isidoro and S. Donato, the acquisition of which was regarded
as a greater triumph than the capture of Tyre or Jerusalem.
14 For details see guide-books and Ruskin’s pugilistic St. Mark’s Rest; also Venice, in Medival
Towns. A strange commentary on the assertions of chroniclers, ancient and modern in regard to the immense prosperity of
Venice at this period is the statement made by others that during the reign of Doge Vitale Falieri (1085-96) two-thirds
of the citizens perished from famine and earthquake.
15 ‘The alleged blindness of Dandolo,’ says Mr. Okey, ‘is one of the enigmas of history. The chroniclers
are hopelessly at variance.’ One of these, who was his constant companion (Villehardouin), asserts that he ‘could
not see a whit.’ Others do not mention the subject.
16 Goths, Lombards, Franks, Saxons, Franconians, Hohenstaufer, the Visconti, Sforzas, Louis XII, Francis I, Charles V.
Philip of Spain, Austrians, Buonaparte, Austrians again. The French took Milan four times.
17 In imitation of S. Vitale in Ravenna. There are several Romanesque churches (Simpliciano, Sepolcro, and others) that
survived the later catastrophe of 1162.
18 Imitated also by the English at the Battle of the Standard (1138). At Montaperti, in 1260, the Florentine Guelfs made
their last desperate stand around their Carroccio. This Florentine Guelf Carroccio was painted red (like their
giglio vermiglio of Par. xvi), and their bell was, according to Machiavelli, called the Martinella.
19 Dante believed himself to be of Roman descent. It is likely that the family (Alighieri) was related to the Roman Frangipani
of later days. In his poem (Inf. xv) he makes his old teacher Brunetto Latini speak with hatred and contempt of the
bestie fiesolane, that ‘ungrateful and malignant fold that in ancient days descended from Fiesole’ and
brought discord and other evils into Florence. In the Paradiso Justinian speaks of the Roman Eagle having been ‘bitter
to the hill’ beneath which Dante was born.
20 Evidently built on the site of the temple--perhaps by St. Ambrose, who is known to have founded S. Lorenzo in 394 ?
or by his friend Zenobius ? or about the sixth century ? or by Theodelinda ? It was the cathedral till 1128, when the honour
was transferred to S. Salvatore (S. Reparata ?). the original of S. M. del Fiore. During about fourteen centuries Dante’s
il mio bel San Giovanni has served as the one Catholic baptistery for Florentines. In it Dante, as also his ancestor
Cacciaguida (he tells us) was baptized, and here he hoped, in vain, some day to be crowned as poet (Par. xv, 9).
21 It was about this time that instead of Consuls the Florentines instituted as their supreme magistrate a Podest
(a ‘Power’ or ‘Authority,’ almost a dictator, originally the name of the German governor imposed on
a city by the Emperor). He was not a Florentine, but a stranger and he was not allowed to marry a Florentine nor to eat or
drink in the house of any citizen.
22 A striking example of this is afforded by the fifty towers (now thirteen) of S. Gimignano. See Fig. 54.
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CHAPTER IV
ROMANESQUE ARCHITECTURE (1)
800-1200
The epithet ‘Romanesque’ is sometimes applied to all the round-arch styles of medieval architecture which were
derived from the Roman--to the Early Christian (basilican), to Byzantine, to Lombard, Tuscan, Norman (French, English, and
Sicilian), to German and Spanish Romanesque, even to Saracen, as being influenced by Roman or Byzantine; and some writers
go so far as to call Gothic a form of Romanesque, regarding it as the final outcome of the round-arch period of transition.
This use of the word can perhaps be defended; but I have preferred to regard the Italian basilican style, the Byzantine, the
Romanesque, and the Gothic as specifically distinct, (2) and in a former chapter I have briefly discussed the origins of that
architecture which, I think, may equally well be entitled ‘Early Italian Romanesque’ or ‘Roman-Lombard,’
if we keep in mind that the word ‘Lombard’ by no means limits Roman-Lombard architecture to what is now called
Lombardy.
Some of the Early Romanesque relics of the Lombard period and of the days of Charles the Great have been already described.
During the next period-the reigns of the Carolingians and the succeeding Dark Age--architecture, as all other art, suffered
almost total eclipse for about two centuries. (3) At
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Rome indeed the obscuration lasted far longer. We hear of restorations and reconstructions, for which the ancient monuments
were ruthlessly plundered, and a few curious mosaics and frescos of this age have survived; but until the twelfth century,
or later, Rome remained in gross darkness, while in other parts of Italy, both in the north and in the south, a new and splendid
architecture was rapidly arising--developing itself in wonderful perfection from that Roman-Lombard architecture which had
begun to unfold as early as the days of Queen Theodelinda (c. 600), but which seems to have been arrested in its growth
until towards the close of the tenth century, in spite of all the favour that for a time art and learning are said to have
received from Charles the Great. Possibly the dread that the world would come to an end in A.D. 1000 may
have to some extent paralysed Christendom and made the erection of substantial churches seem superfluous; but, whatever the
reasons were, soon after the year 1000 almost all the Christian world was seized with a sudden desire to build splendid temples--to
cast aside its old attire, as Rodolf Glaber says, writing about 1045, and ‘put on a new white robe’ (candidam
ecclesiarum vestem induere).
The Romanesque style resulted from the alliance of ancient Roman architecture with that of Northern countries--the home
of the Lombards--and, as Mr. Ruskin has pointed out, some of the characteristics that distinguish it sharply from the Basilican
and Byzantine styles were evidently due to Northern influences. For example, a Romanesque church offers generally a most striking
contrast to the richly coloured and decorated surfaces, the gleaming columns and marble-covered walls and great mosaics, of
Byzantine architecture. We Northerners often seem to distrust bright colour and rich decoration; most of us prefer what is
dim and almost colourless--the checker
436
and play of light and shadow amid the gloom of forests or in our great cavernous Norman cathedrals. In Italy the Northmen
had the advantage of being able to procure--sometimes to steal from ancient buildings--splendid marble columns instead of
having to construct massive piers, and the contrast of marble and stone and brick in Italian Romanesque is often exceedingly
beautiful. The chief decorative effect aimed at was, however, not that of colour and reflexion, but the play of light and
shade amid mouldings and sculptures and arcades and all kinds of concave and convex work. Thus capitals and high reliefs,
to catch the light, and outside we have the hollows of arcades, and colonnaded faades, and sculptured reliefs, and overhanging
corbels, and beautiful, deeply receding portals and windows, which catch the shade and by acting as a foil to the sculptures
and the marbles invest the building with a beauty which is incomparably finer than that of any old basilica viewed exteriorly,
and perhaps outvies the glory of even such a dream of colour as St. Mark’s,
A certain amount of colour decoration was adopted in Italian Romanesque--especially in Tuscany, where marble and mosaics
were freely used. The wooden roofs, flat (as in Pisa Cathedral) or open-timber (as in S. Zeno and S. Miniato), were gaily
painted. But these painted wooden roofs gave way, especially in Northern forms of Romanesque, to ugly barrel or tunnel vaulting,
and to the still uglier groined or ribbed cross-vaulting formed by two barrel vaults crossing each other at right angles--a
system that was, as we shall see later, happily annihilated by the introduction of the pointed Gothic arch and the invention
of the true Gothic vault.
Another, somewhat late, invention of Italian Romanesque, adopted afterwards by Gothic, was the rose or wheel window--magnificent
examples of which still exist (see figs. 25, 26).
The main constructive principle of Romanesque was still that of rigid strength. In the ancient system of colonnade
and architrave--what Gothic zealots call the system of ‘grovelling horizontally,’ though its essential principle
is that of perfect
437
verticality--there was no great superincumbent weight and scarcely any side-thrust (none indeed, when the roof was wanting
or flat). When the arch-supported roof-walls (clerestories) of basilicas became higher, sufficient buttress work was done
by the side aisles; but when Byzantine domes and Romanesque and Norman arches and apses began to assume large proportions
it was necessary to build the walls of immense thickness, or to prop them exteriorly. And here it may be noted in passing
that the principle of balance (instead of rigid strength) which was later used in Gothic architecture allows the most
enormous weights to be poised mid-air on a system of arches and piers (or clustered pillars) and external buttresses, so that
comparatively thin walls, perforated too with immense windows, suffice to hold the whole in equipoise quite securely--although
it must be confessed that the sensation produced by the interior of a great Gothic cathedral, when for the moment one forgets
the external apparatus of flying buttresses, is apt to be one of uncomfortable insecurity.
Before giving some of the chief examples of Italian Romanesque it may be well to mention, though it is impossible here
to discuss adequately, the much vexed question of the relationship of this style of architecture to that which we call ‘Norman’
and to German Romanesque. The question is whether the architecture of the Normans in Normandy, which produced the magnificent
churches of Caen and which was introduced by the Normans into England, as well as the Romanesque architecture of the rest
of France, with its splendid churches of Angoulme, Toulouse, Vzelay, and Arles, and that of Belgium, with its beautiful
Tournay Cathedral, and that of Germany, with its fine, though cruelly restored, cathedrals of Mainz, Worms, Trier, and Speyer,
and that of Toro and Tarragona in Spain, and that of Palermo and Cefal in Sicily, and lastly what we call Italian Romanesque,
were all derived, as some have imagined, from the inventive genius of Viking master-builders--or whether by some incredible
coincidence this style of building arose independently in all these various countries--or, lastly, whether, as I have assumed,
it originated
438
when about the seventh century, the Lombard princes in North Italy, and afterwards the Lombard dukes in South and Central
Italy, employed native master-builders--possible the famous magistri comacini--to erect churches and palaces in Italian
cities. If this be so, then it seems very likely that the new style spread from Italy across the Alps, down the course of
the Rhine (4) and through Burgundy, and was (c. 1060) adopted by the dukes of Normandy. But it may have reached Normandy
also by another route, for these Norman dukes had direct connexions with Italy through their kinsmen who were in southern
Italy some forty years before William the Conqueror’s mighty St.-Etienne in Caen began to rise. (5)
This question of the first origins of Norman is one that each of us probably prefers to settle for himself as he feels
impelled by reason or by patriotism. But in doing this it may be well to remember that the existence of a similar, or even
an identical, style in countries far apart is often explainable by the fact that master-builders and workmen were not seldom
summoned great distances from well-known centres of architecture. Thus Venice was constantly sending to Constantinople for
builders, and Charles the Great and other Frank and German princes doubtless employed many Italian architects in their northern
dominions; so one need not feel astonished if in England and France we find characteristics of Italian Romanesque and even
of Byzantine and Oriental ornament (brought by the Crusaders), or if in Italy we find zigzag (which, like the ubiquitous swastika,
may surely sometimes be spontaneously generated), or if, while the Englishman Of a Mill was archbishop and chancellor at Palermo
the church of S. Spirito was built with the massive piers and slightly pointed
INSERT FIG 39
439
arches that characterize English Norman of the same date (c. 1175). From such facts we need not infer that Italian
and Sicilian Romanesque was ‘made in England’--or even in Normandy.
A striking and beautiful feature of Italian Romanesque is the campanile. We have already seen (p. 282) that Italian bell-towers
date from early days and that some of the old basilicas have very fine circular campanili; but the lofty square campanili
that are so characteristic of Italy (and to which the round Leaning Tower of Pisa offers such a striking contrast) are due
to Romanesque architecture. In Rome, otherwise very little affected by Romanesque, many beautiful square campanili of the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries exist, such as those of S. Maria in Cosmedin (Fig. 21), S. Maria in Trastevere, and SS. Giovanni
e Paolo. (7) The Roman campanile of this age has usually storeys of dark brown brickwork separated by cornices of marble or
terra-cotta, and a flat terrace at the top (the spires being later additions). Above the basement each storey has on each
side generally two windows, open or blind, with marble colonnelli, whereas in the campanili of North Italy the number
of windows, as in the Siena campanile, where each storey has an additional window, increases towards the top of the building
(see Figs. 41, 55, 65).
LOMBARDY AND EMILIA
The Romanesque of Lombardy, as one might expect from its half-Northern nature, is often wanting in delicacy of ornamentation
and sometimes inclines towards the fantastic and grotesque, but it is without doubt a very much more virile and healthy type
than the Tuscan, or perhaps we should say the Pisan. The chief characteristics of Lombard Romanesque churches are the exceedingly
beautiful proportions of the
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external architecture; the grand colonnaded faades, sometimes richly adorned with sculpture; the exquisite arcade decoration
of the apses; the splendid recessed portals and windows; the projecting porches, with columns often resting on marble lions;
the superb campanili, and in later buildings the magnificent rose-windows. The following are the most important of these churches.
Some of them will be found briefly described in the List of Illustrations. The dates indicted approximately when the Romanesque
portions of the churches were originally built.
Pavia: S. Michele (here Berengar, Frederick I, and others were crowned with the Iron Crown.
Rebuilt c. 1050. Vaulted, like S. Ambrogio. Fine Romanesque portal).
Pavia: S. Pietro in Ciel d’oro (rebuilt c. 1100. See Fig. 13)
Verona: S. Zeno (c. 1070-1140. Fig. 55)
Cremona: Cathedral (1107-90) and Torrazzo (1260-80)
Parma: Cathedral (1099-1184)
Modena: Cathedral (1099-1184)
Ferrara: Cathedral (1135-c.1200 Fig. 39)
Piacenza: Cathedral (1122-c.1200)
Como: S. Fedele (1100? rebuilt c. 1265) and S. Abbondio (c. 750? rebuilt c. 1050.
totally renovated c. 1870, but has old remains. See p.180).
Besides these there is a church of great importance, namely, S. Ambrogio in Milan, of which frequent mention has already
been made. It is said to have been founded by St. Ambrose about the year 380, but it seems to have been rebuilt by Archbishop
Anspert in the ninth century, and was reconstructed in the Romanesque style at latest about 1140. The fine atrium dates
probably from Archbishop Anspert’s time, and the campanile from about 1130. Exteriorly the style of the church is unmistakably
early and simple Romanesque; but the inside, which is of the same age, shows most remarkable Gothic features in the ribbed
vaulting of nave and aisles, the clustered columns, and the shafts springing upwards from the capitals of the lower piers
(see p.281). The question is whether this new system was introduced from beyond the Alps at a time when it was hardly known
in Northern countries, or whether it was actually devised here at this
INSERT FIG 40
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early date. (7) This we shall consider when we come to Italian Gothic architecture.
TUSCANY
The wonderful group of buildings that suddenly reveals itself as one issues forth from the Via Solferino or the Via Niccola
Pisano into Piazza del Duomo at Pisa impresses on the memory the main features of what is called Tuscan, but might perhaps
be better called Pisan, Romanesque. If we have lately visited the churches of Lombardy we cannot but feel that we have before
us a variety of Romanesque which might be called a different species. It is here impossible to discuss this point fully, but
a glance at Fig.40 will show that the characteristic features of all three edifices--the cathedral, the round Leaning Tower,
and the lower half of the Baptistery (the upper being later and Gothicized)--are that the basement is adorned with columns
and tall blind arcades and that the upper parts, especially of the campanile and the faade, have tier upon tier of very beautifully
proportioned open colonnades. (8) These handsome faades, seen to perfection at Pisa and less so at Lucca, are scarcely known
in Lombardy--and the fact that they are found in Dalmatia would seem to show that they may be due to Byzantine, or Oriental,
influences, such as one might expect in the case of Pisa in an age when her fleets swept the Saracens from the seas and visited
the Levantine coasts.
There are in Pisa several other Romanesque churches, namely, S. Sisto (c. 1090) and S. Frediano (c. 1150)
and
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S. Paolo (c. 1220?), which latter has a fine Pisan faade. At Lucca we have a number of churches (9) built evidently
in imitation of Pisan architecture, but distinctly inferior to the Duomo of Pisa in beauty of proportion, as will be seen
from the illustration given of the cathedral, the faade of which dates from about 1024. A still greater want of artistic
feeling is shown by S. Michele, in which the gable is built up to a great height above the roof of the church in order to
give space for the display of the colonnaded Pisan faade. Another extravagant imitation of this faade is afforded by S.
Giovanni at Pistoia.
Of Florentine Romanesque most has disappeared, but besides relics of it surviving in SS. Apostoli, S. Spirito, and S. Lorenzo,
there remains one very celebrated and perfect specimen--S. Miniato:
la chiesa, che soggioga
La ben guidata sopra Rubaconte, (10)
In some respects S. Miniato resembles rather a Latin basilica than a Lombard Romanesque church. It is, says Mothes, ‘one
of the most interesting examples of the transition from the basilican to the Romanesque style, and a proof that the Florentines
regarded the Romanesque with as much reserve as later they regarded Gothic.’ Its main features are easily observable
in the illustration (Fig.30). Here I can only draw attention to its difference from other forms of Romanesque by remarking
that the lavish marble incrustation of the inner walls and of the faade, (11) which is gay with black and white marbles used
as surface decorations, with no sign of open arcades or
INSERT FIG 41
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any light and shadow effect, is in spirit, though not in design, rather Byzantine than Romanesque, and may be considered
almost more diverse from Lombard Romanesque than even the Pisan. As we shall see later, Byzantine painting (either through
Venice of through the Byzantine paintings of South Italy) was supreme at Florence before the days of Cimabue, and probably
the marble-encrusted faade of S. Miniato, as those of some other Tuscan churches, is due to such influences.
CENTRAL AND SOUTH ITALY
At the epoch when (100-1100) the revival of architecture took place in Italy Florence was under her Margraves, Ugo and
Boniface and Guelf, and was in sympathy neither with the Empire nor with the Lombard cities. Perhaps this accounts for the
apparent fact that the Lombard form of Romanesque was not favoured there; and except for one period of short-lived friendship
(see p. 431) Florence and Pisa seem to have been in a constant state of rivalry and hostility, so that it is not surprising
that the self-sufficient and independent Florentine spirit did not condescend to imitate the productions of Pisan architects.
But in other parts of Tuscany there are some very beautiful relics of Lombard Romanesque work. Toscanella has been already
mentioned in connexion with the early Roman-Lombard style (p. 280). The exceedingly beautiful portals and rose-windows of
S. Pietro and S. M. Maggiore (Figs. 25, 26) date from c. 1040. At Volterra the Duomo was once a fine Lombard Romanesque
edifice of the year 1120, and the ancient Baptistery possesses still a very beautiful portal of c. 1200 (Fig. 32).
At S. Gimignano there are several Knights-Templar churches of the twelfth century, and the Duomo, or Collegiata, which is
said to date from c. 1148, retains a fine Romanesque nave and columns (Fig. 42). The two great centres of Lombard power
in Central and South Italy were Spoleto and Benevento, and here we find, as might be expected, fine examples of Lombard Romanesque.
The Spoleto Duomo dates from about 1050 and was renewed about
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1150; the Duomo of Benevento is said to have been ‘admired by Adalbert of Bremen in the year 1047.’ It is Lombard
work influenced by Saracenic architecture. A still more striking example is the Hospice-church at Aquila represented in Fig.
49.
Thus the North Italian Lombard Romanesque may be traced southwards through the regions of the old Lombard duchies, until,
avoiding Rome, it meets both Byzantine and Saracen (Arab) architecture; and ere long in South Italy and in Sicily we find
the Normans assimilating this Northern, Roman-Lombard style, and at the same time being affected by the Southern influences
of Byzantine and Arab architecture.
In many towns of Campania, Apulia, and Calabria exist churches (mostly barbarously spoilt) which were originally Romanesque,
or were Byzantine, with fine domes, and were rebuilt or enlarged in Romanesque style by the Normans--with sometimes a touch
of Saracenic. At Canosa the five-domed Byzantine church of S. Sabino (where, by the way, Robert Guiscard‘s son, the
Crusader Bohemund, has his tomb) shows Norman-Lombard additions. At Trani the Byzantine cathedral has a fine Romanesque portal.
At Bari several ancient Byzantine churches received Romanesque additions in the time of King Roger. The cathedral of Salerno
was built (c. 1070) by Robert Guiscard, and its fine Romanesque architecture is still perceptible, although terribly
defaced by modern restoration. (The atrium, with splendid ancient columns from Paestum, defies the restorer.) Then,
again, at Amalfi and the neighbouring Ravello we have in the cathedrals remarkable but badly spoilt specimens of the South
Italian Lombard style. Both were perhaps first erected in the eleventh century, even before the supremacy of Robert Guiscard
and the development of Norman-Lombard architecture. But the Amalfi church more probably dates from after the submission of
the town, for centuries more or less independent amidst its many enemies, to the Norman king, Roger of Sicily, in the year
(1131) which followed his assumption of the crown.
INSERT FIG 42
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SICILY
In a former chapter we have followed from its rise to its setting the short-lived but brilliant period of Norman supremacy
in South Italy and Sicily and have noted the picturesque inter-mixture of races in the population of cities such as Palermo,
the residence of the Norman kings. Palermo, as also most of Sicily, had been for more than 240 years (830-1072) in the power
of the Saracens. Its inhabitants numbered 300,000, and it is said to have contained no less than three hundred mosques, small
and great. The Saracens had assimilated much from the previous Byzantine civilization, and the Normans in their turn, instead
of extirpating the infidel Moslems, gave them considerable religious and civic liberty, used them as soldiers and as officials,
and borrowed much from their science and art.
Naturally Sicilian architecture during the Norman period shows Byzantine and Saracenic characteristics combined with Norman
Romanesque--the main source of which was, as we have seen, the Lombard Romanesque of South Italy. (12) Of the many splendid
churches erected in Palermo and elsewhere by William the Good, some were distinctly Byzantine in plan, such as the Martorana
(with a dome and three apsides), S. Cataldo (with three domes), and S. Giovanni degli Eremiti (with five), whereas others
are in type decidedly Romanesque, such as the cathedrals at Monreale and Cefal and the church S. Spirito, not far from Palermo,
(13) already mentioned as reminiscent of English Norman architecture.
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Four of the most important of these Sicilian Norman churches, as well as the tombs of King Roger and Emperor Frederick
II, are given in my illustrations, and are described in the List (pp. xxii, xxiii), so here I need only add the remark that
the presence of the pointed arch is attributed by some to Saracen influence, while others believe it to be a kind of foreshadowing
of Gothic, such a we have already noted in S. Ambrogio. But the pointed arch was used not infrequently in Romanesque long
before the arrival of Gothic, and is found also in England in buildings erected before what is called the transition period
between Norman and Early English--e.g. pure Norman work and contemporary with the magnificent Cappella Palatine (Fig.
33) built in 1130 by King Roger as the Chapel Royal of his palace at Palermo--once the castle of Saracen Emirs, then what
Villari calls ‘the first truly regal palace in Europe,’ and now, except for the wonderful Cappella, a disappointing
ruin. (14)
NOTES ON MOSAICS AND PLASTIC ART IN SOUTH ITALY AND SICILY
1050-1200
In a later chapter we shall consider the origins of the great revival of art in Tuscany and other parts of
Italy towards the end of the thirteenth century and shall note the early signs of the new spirit and the influence of the
Byzantine painters and mosaic-workers who, especially after the sack of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204, flooded the
whole of Italy. Here I wish to draw attention to the state of things in South Italy and Sicily during the period c.
1050-1200 in regard to mosaics and plastic art. It is a subject on which much more
INSERT FIG 43
447
light will have to be thrown before we can hope to feel any certainty as to the theory that the splendid outburst
of art in Tuscany in the days of Niccol Pisano and Giotto and Dante was largely due to the sculptors and poets, and perhaps
even the painters, of Southern Italy.
Byzantine mosaics and Byzantine painting and Byzantine metal-work (not sculpture, which was not favoured by the Eastern
spirit) doubtless prevailed for centuries in the parts of South Italy that were subject to the Byzantine Emperor. (15) If
archives are to be believed, there was an almost infinite amount of such treasures in these regions, and the number of fine
bronze doors of Byzantine workmanship that still exist in the cathedrals of Campania and Apulia is considerable (e.g. at Amalfi,
Atrani, Salerno, etc.) The dates of these Byzantine doors vary from c. 1050 to 1100. and of somewhat later date we
find equally fine work done by native artists, e.g. the great bronze doors of Trani Cathedral, and others at Benevento
and Ravello.
Here and there too we find mosaics that date from the Norman period and are evidently not Byzantine work, as the great
St. Matthew mosaic at Salerno. At Salerno also is the famous paliotto—an altar-covering with ivory reliefs representing
a number of Biblical scenes. The skill displayed in this work is very remarkable. It is certainly not by any artist trained
solely in the Byzantine school, and if it really dates from the twelfth century there seems a possibility that this early
Lombard Romanesque school of South Italy may have ultimately proved capable of producing work that deserves, still more than
Niccol’s Pisan pulpit, to be called the ‘ark’ from which the Tuscan sculptors came forth.
But it is in Sicilian mosaics that we find the most distinct evidence towards the end of this period (c. 1140-1200)
of a great school of native art. These mosaics are essentially different from those of the Byzantine school, and the fact
that at this epoch the great Roman school of mosaics was
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apparently (16) almost extinct—had been so indeed since about 900—makes it fairly certain that a new and distinctly
noble style had been developed by Lombard-Norman artists in Sicily.
In the Cappella Palatina at Palermo (Fig. 33) there is a splendid display of mosaics, the oldest and finest of which date
from the reign of King Roger (c. 1032-40). The dignified and impressive representation of the Saviour both here and
at Cefal is very notable. Cefal Cathedral (Fig. 44) contains still finer examples of early Sicilian mosaics. The treatment
of some of the saints and angels shows perhaps some Byzantine influence, but the splendid figure of Christ is of the Lombard-Norman
type. If tradition can be trusted, Roger built Cefal in 1129, before he assumed the kingly title, and in this case some of
these mosaics are probably the oldest of their kind and may have been Byzantine work; but the figure of Christ is attributed
to the year 1148.
In the Palermo church called (since 1433) la Martorana from the foundress of a convent, but originally named S. Maria dell’
Ammiraglio (King Roger’s Admiral, or Emir, who founded it in 1143), there is the interesting mosaic shown in Fig. 34.
It once probably adorned the faade. It represents Count Roger receiving his kingly crown from the hands of Christ—a
finely imaginative protest against his non-recognition by Pope Innocent II when he assumed the royal title (p. 407).
In the Monreale Cathedral there is a similar mosaic, in which William the Good is represented, like his grandfather, receiving
his crown from Christ—the idea evidently having become hereditary. This church displays immense expanses (over 7000
square yards) of mosaics of various dates. They represent scenes from Old Testament history, from the life of Christ and the
lives of the Apostles, and introduce numberless saints and angels.
INSERT FIG 44
1 For further details see List of Illustrations.
2 The new principles that came into existence with the column-supported arch, the pendentive-supported dome, and the pointed
vault seem to denote the evolution of new species. The Romanesque, too, had its new principles.
3 As we have already seen, it was just during these two centuries (800-1000) that the Venetians began to adorn their city
with splendid buildings. (The original St. Mark’s dates from 830; the original Doges’ Palace and S. Zaccaria from
the same period; the present Torcello Cathedral mainly from 864.) But Venice stood in close relation to the East and Byzantine
architecture and did not take any great part in the Romanesque movement, although it possessed some very beautiful specimens
of Romanesque work, such as the palaces given in Fig. 56, and the (now terribly restored) apse of Murano’s basilica
which Ruskin praised so enthusiastically.
4 The following are the chief early German Romanesque churches. The dates intimate when the original Romanesque portions
of these churches (most of them now very much rebuilt) were erected: Gernrode (960). Cln: Maria im Capitol
and the church of the Apostles (960-1020). Mainz: Dom (970-1050). Trier: Dom (1016). Speyer: Dom (1030-1100).
Worms: Dom (1120-1200). Laach Abbey (1100).
5 About 1060 Robert Guiscard was building churches in Salerno and other places in that Lombard-Romanesque style which the
Norman kings later introduced into Sicily.
6 This is the only church in Rome that shows exteriorly distinct Romanesque features, e.g. a deeply recessed arcade
round the upper part of its apse, built in the twelfth century, after the destruction of the old church by Robert Guiscard’s
Saracens in 1084).
7 In Stones of Venice Mr. Ruskin regards the vaulting shaft as a ‘petrified’ form of the wooden uprights
in old Northern edifices. ‘The upright pilaster above the nave pier remains in the stone edifice . . .. In that form
the Lombards brought it into Italy in the seventh century, and it remains to this day in S. Ambrogio of Milan and S. Michele
of Pavia.’
8 Note the arrangement of diminishing columns in the second and fourth tiers of the faade, and the central columns of
the two upper tiers above the central arches of the two lower; also the nineteen arches of the first tier as against twenty-one
in the second. The date of the faade is probably about 1120, though some put it a century later. Doubtless it underwent much
restoration. The campanile was certainly begun about 1175, though not finished till much later.
9 A very interesting Lucchese church is S. Frediano, originally founded, as also the Duomo, about 570 by the Irish bishop
Frigidianus. It was rebuilt c. 1120. It has the usual Romanesque colonnade round the exterior of the apse, but with
horizontal architraves instead of arches. The square campanile seems to have found no imitators.
10 Purg. xii, 101. ‘The church which dominates the well-guided [i.e. ill-guided] city above the Ponte
delle Grazie.’ It crowns a hill on the south side of the Arno. According to Machiavelli it was founded c. 1002
by Henry II. Others give 1013.
11 Asserted by some to be fifteenth-century work or later, and doubtless much restored and with late additions; but probably
the general scheme is of the eleventh century.
12 Doubtless there is more than accidental resemblance between Sicilian Norman and the Norman of Normandy, as seen in the
case of Cefal Cathedral, which is evidently on the same plan as William the Conqueror’s great St.-tienne at Caen.
The Cefal Cathedral was probably founded in 1129, and St.-tienne was finished soon after William’s death, which took
place in 1087.
13 Outside Porta Agata and near the scene of the Sicilian Vespers. It was founded by the English Archbishop of Palermo,
Of a Mill. Also we must not forget that the Queen of Sicily was at this time an English princess (see p. 409)
14 Of the other very numerous palaces in and around Palermo only a few relics exist, as the Zisa (built by William I),
the Cuba (by William II), and the Favara, a Saracen-Norman castle used later by Frederick II.
15 Abbot Desiderius of Monte Cassino is said to have imported many Byzantine artists c. 1066.
16 Nevertheless to the twelfth century seem to belong such fine mosaics as those of S. Clemente (Rome) and S. Maria in
Trastevere (Fig. 57). Whether these and also the mosaics of the Norman kings were the work of Roman or Byzantine artists or
of an independent Lombard-Sicilian school is a point to be proved not only from technique and material, but from choice and
treatment of subject and symbolism.