The Church and the Empire, D. J. Medley [librera reader TXT] 📗

had undoubtedly been humiliated and had acknowledged the papal arbitration in Germany: but modern feelings probably exaggerate the humiliation of the penitential system, and Henry had at least divided his enemies. The Pope had undertaken to see fair play between Henry and his German subjects: the German nobles had based their action on Henry’s past conduct, for which he had now done penance. Henry had obtained an acknowledgment from the Pope that his right to the kingship was at any rate an open question.

[Sidenote: Election of an anti-king.]

The German nobles had been betrayed by the Pope, but they could not afford to quarrel with him. They had been outwitted by Henry, and against him they proceeded as having violated the Agreement of Tribur.

A Diet met at Forchheim, in Franconia, in March, 1077. It was chiefly composed of lay nobles, but papal legates were present, whom Gregory instructed to work for a postponement until he himself could come. But the nobles were determined, and Henry’s brother-in-law, Duke Rudolf of Suabia, was chosen King. Gregory, however, did not intend to have his hand forced again, and for three years (1077-80) he refused to acknowledge Rudolf and tried to pose as arbiter between him and Henry.

Five times Rudolf’s supporters wrote remonstrating indignantly against this neutrality. Gregory excused himself on the ground that his legates had been deceived and had acted under compulsion in acquiescing in the action of the diet at Forchheim. He had good reasons for his delay. He was determined to secure recognition of the right which he claimed for the Papacy as the real determining force in the dispute, an act which the nobles had deliberately prevented.

Moreover, he was a little afraid of a trial of strength with Henry at the moment. For while Henry’s promptness had caused the Pope to break faith with his allies, Gregory’s severity had gathered round Henry a party which made the King more powerful than he yet had been. Thus in Lombardy the Countess Matilda was faced by a revived imperialist party which seriously threatened her dominions, while in Germany the clergy, the lesser nobles and the cities rallied round the King.

[Sidenote: Gregory accepts him.]

So long, then, as the contest seemed doubtful Gregory withheld his decision. At length, in 1080, when, despite two victories, Rudolf was gaining no advantage, Gregory felt that further delay might make Henry too strong to be affected by the papal judgment. Accordingly, at the usual Lenten Synod he renewed the excommunication and deposition of Henry, recognised Rudolf as King of Germany, and even prophesied for the excommunicated monarch a speedy death. One papal partisan afterwards explained this as referring to Henry’s spiritual death!

Gregory is further said to have sent a crown to Rudolf, bearing the legend “Petra dedit Petro, Petrus diadema Rudolpho,” but the story is doubtful. The answer of Henry’s party was given in successive synods of German or Italian bishops, who declared Gregory deposed, and elected as his substitute Henry’s Chancellor, Guibert, Archbishop of Ravenna, who took the title of Clement III.

[Sidenote: Death of anti-King.]

Gregory’s decisive move was a failure. There were now two Kings and two Popes, and all hope of a peaceful settlement was gone. None of the nations of Europe responded to Gregory’s appeal. Robert Guiscard, the Norman leader, was busy with his designs on the Eastern Empire.

Gregory’s only chance was a victory in Germany and the fulfilment of his rash prophecy. In October, 1080, Henry was defeated in the heart of Saxony on the Elster, but it was Gregory’s accepted King, Rudolf, who was killed. One chronicler reports Rudolf as acknowledging in his dying moments the iniquity of his conduct. Saxony remained in revolt; but until a new King could be agreed upon Henry was practically safe and could turn to deal with the situation in Italy. There could be no thought of peace. Gregory’s supporters were upheld by the enthusiasm of fanaticism, while by acts and words he had driven his enemies to exasperation, and what had begun as a war of principles had now sunk to a personal struggle between Henry and Hildebrand.

[Sidenote: Death of Gregory.]

The renewal of the sentence against Henry had caused a reaction in his favour in Northern Italy. Soon after the episode of Canossa, the Countess Matilda, having no heir, had bequeathed her entire possessions to the Roman see and become a papal vassal for the term of her own life. But most of the Tuscan cities declared for Henry and thus entirely neutralised her power. Robert Guiscard was not to be tempted back from his projects against the Eastern Empire, even if it be true that Gregory offered him the Empire of the West. Thus Henry entered Italy unhindered early in 1081, and even the news that his opponents had found a successor to Rudolf in the person of Herman of Luxemburg did not stop his march. The siege of Rome lasted for nearly three years (1081-4), but ultimately he obtained possession of all the city except the castle of St. Angelo. Henry’s Pope, Clement III, was consecrated, and on Easter Day Henry, together with his wife, at length obtained the imperial crown. But meanwhile he had made a fatal move. The Eastern Emperor Alexius persuaded him to make mischief in Apulia. Henry fell into the trap. Robert Guiscard rushed back to defend his own territories, and now determined to carry out his obligations as a papal vassal. Henry was taken unawares and had to retire before the Normans, who forced their way into Rome and cruelly sacked and burnt it. Gregory was rescued, but life for him in Rome was no longer possible. The Romans had betrayed him to Henry, and now his allies had destroyed the city. He retired with the Normans to Salerno, where, a year later, he died (May, 1085), bitterly attributing his failure to his love of righteousness and hatred of iniquity.

[Sidenote: His reasons for his failure.]

But we cannot ratify Gregory’s own judgment on the reasons for his failure. Rather the blame is to be laid upon his lack of statesmanship. His egotism and his fanaticism worked together to make him believe that the supremacy of the spiritual power which he aimed at might be attained by very secular devices. In action he showed himself a pure opportunist, approving at one time what he condemned at another. And yet he had so little of an eye for the line which separates the practicable from the ideal that at Canossa he humiliated Henry beyond all hope of reconciliation, and he died in exile because he would not listen to any compromise which might be an acknowledgment that he had exaggerated his own claims. Thus, despite the undoubted purity of his life and the ultimate loftiness of his ideals, he is to be regarded rather as a man of immense force of character than as a great ecclesiastical statesman, rather as the stirrer-up of divine discontent than as a creative mind which gives a new turn to the desires and impulses of the human race.

[Sidenote: His activity in Europe.]

All this is borne out by his dealings outside Germany and Italy. He conducted a very extensive correspondence with princes as well as ecclesiastics all over Europe. Indeed this, as much as the despatch of legates and the annual attendance of bishops at the Lenten Synod, was one of the means by which the Papacy strove to make itself the central power of Christendom. These letters deal with all kinds of subjects and bear ample witness to his personal piety and high moral aims. But alongside of these come arrogant assertions of papal authority. He claims as fiefs of St. Peter on various grounds Hungary, Spain, Denmark, Corsica, Sardinia; he gives the title of King to the Duke of Dalmatia; he even offers to princes who belong to the Eastern Church a better title to their possessions as held from St. Peter.

[Sidenote: His policy in France.]

Gregory’s great contest with the Empire has been described without interruption, as if it were the only struggle of his time, instead of being merely the most important episode in a very busy life. And if we ask in conclusion why it was fought out in the imperial dominions rather than elsewhere, the answer will be instructive of his character and methods of action. At the beginning of his pontificate his harshest phrases were directed against Philip I of France, who added to the crimes of lay investiture and shameless simony a scandalous personal immorality. Ultimately Gregory threatened him with excommunication and deposition. But he never passed beyond threats.

The reason is to be found in the fact that Gregory was soon in pursuit of larger game. The French King only shared with his great nobles the investiture of the bishops in the kingdom. Moreover, the French bishops were not as a body great secular potentates like the German bishops. The opposition to reform in France was passive, not active.

Crown, nobles, and Church stood together in opposition: there was no papal party. Not enough was to be gained by a victory, and there was great chance of a defeat. The result was that Philip continued his simoniacal transactions and never entirely gave up investiture, while Gregory allowed himself to be satisfied with occasional promises of better things. His dealings with the French bishops are equally inconclusive. For six years (1076-82) two of the papal legates divided France between them, practically superseded the local ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and acted with the utmost severity against all, ecclesiastics or laymen, who practised the methods now under condemnation. Great opposition was aroused and the legates went in peril of their lives. They were only carrying out strenuously the principles laid down under Gregory’s guidance in many acts of synods and inculcated by Gregory in numberless private letters. And yet Gregory is found frequently undoing their acts, restoring bishops whom they have deposed, accepting excuses or explanations which cannot possibly have deceived him.

[Sidenote: In England.]

His policy towards England affords another instructive contrast. Both in Normandy and in England William the Conqueror practised investiture of his bishops and abbots and held his ecclesiastics in an iron grip.

He refused the papal demand for homage for his English kingdom and he would allow no papal interference with his clergy without the King’s permission. Archbishop Lanfranc also only consented to accept the decree against married clergy with a serious limitation—while married canons were to dismiss their wives at once, parish priests already married were not interfered with; but marriage was forbidden to clergy in the future, and bishops were warned not to ordain married men. But William’s expedition to England had been undertaken with the approval of Hildebrand, he did not practise simony, and he acknowledged the principle of a celibate clergy, while he promised the payment of the tribute of Peter’s Pence from England. Moreover, William was not a man to be trifled with: he was a valuable friend and would certainly be a dangerous enemy. Consequently no question of the lawfulness of investiture was mooted during his lifetime. Gregory contented himself with threats against Lanfranc. But the English Archbishop owed a grudge to Gregory, who had treated with a culpable indulgence the great heresiarch Berengar after Lanfranc had vanquished him and convicted him of heresy; and Lanfranc knew that under William’s sheltering favour he was safe from the papal ban.

Thus, while in France Gregory would have to face an united people, in England he shrank before the personality of the King. In Germany, on the other hand, he found a blameworthy King and a discontented people.

All the elements were present for the successful interference of an external power. Moreover, the peculiar relations in which this external power—the Papacy—stood towards the German King, the prospective Emperor, gave every excuse, if any were needed, for such interference. Finally and most especially, since these imperial prospects