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CHAPTER
III.
DECAY
OF ITALIAN CHRONOGRAPHY — THE “LIBER PONTIFICALIS ” — THE ACTS OF THE NEAPOLITAN
BISHOPS — AGNELLUS OF RAVENNA — POLEMICAL WRITINGS OF AUXILIUS AND VULGARIUS — THE
MONASTERIES AND THE SARACEN INVASIONS — FARFA : THE “CONSTRUCTS”— LIVES OF THE
SAINTS OF ST. VINCENT ON THE VOLTURNO — THE “DESTRUCTIO” — MONTECASSINO :
CHRONICLE OF ST. BENEDICT — CATALOGUES — TRANSLATIONS OF RELICS — “HISTORIA” OF
ERCHEMPERT — CHRONICLE OF SALERNO — ANDREW OF BERGAMO — PANEGYRIC OF
BERENGARIUS — STATE OF LAY EDUCATION IN ITALY — POLITICAL
CONDITIONS — LIUTPRAND — IMPERIALIST WRITINGS — BENEDICT OF SORACTE — VENETIAN CHRONICLE
OF JOHANNES DIACONUS.
The Historia of Paulus Diaconus received several unimportant
additions, of which only passing mention need be made in a work like the
present, which does not regard the labours of the
chroniclers exclusively as sources of history, but also as indications of the
literary condition of the Middle Ages. We have come now to the time of greatest
poverty in the Italian chronicles. After the last traces of classicism in the
Gothic period, and the effort towards a revival made by Charlemagne, and which
ceased with him, there followed a profound decline, and Paul’s remarkable work
is succeeded by scanty chronicles and historical memoirs of very secondary
importance. “It is much to be regretted,” writes Muratori in his Annals, when speaking of this age, “that Italian history should leave us
for so long uninformed of the facts and events of the time, and only some faint
light remains for us in the old ultramontane writers.” And in fact, from the
time of the Carolingians to that of the Othos, except
when we are aided by indirect documents, such as inscriptions, diplomas, and
similar remains, we are often obliged to have recourse to German and French
sources, to gain some information respecting this obscure period of Italian
history. Although the laity, as we shall see, had not lost all trace of literary
attainments, the clergy on the other hand were too much mixed up in political
agitations, and too much engrossed by them, to give their attention to
historical writings. Generally ecclesiastical education seemed to be all
directed to the management of state affairs, so that the documents most
valuable, both for the vigour of their style and
their historical importance, which we have at that time, are the collections of
pontifical letters of Nicholas I (d. 867) and of John VIII (d. 882). Still this
silence during the ninth century in Italy concerning contemporary events was
not absolute. The events themselves sometimes necessarily produced documents,
which, directly or indirectly, belong to history. Among these the Liber Pontificalis occupies a prominent place, as during the
first half of the ninth century it is of great assistance towards tracing the
history of the Church generally, and more especially of Rome. For a long time
this work went by the name of a single author, Anastasius Bibliothecarius,
a man of much learning, who translated several books from the Greek, and most
probably compiled the life of the Pope Nicholas I. But to attribute the whole Liber Pontificalis to one author is to contradict the
very nature of the work, which consists in a series of biographical notices of
the popes, compiled more or less at length at various times and by various
writers. The history of this book and of its compilations, the inquiries with
regard to the authors of it, the criticism of its different manuscripts have
occupied for long the learned, and have given rise quite lately to
dissertations full of erudition and merit. But we must pass them over, and
limit ourselves to hoping that a definite edition may soon be the result of
these scientific discussions, while we briefly describe the first part of this
book, which may be likened to the rising and course of a river, with its
constant changes of form and scene. The need, continually felt for
ecclesiastical purposes, of a familiar knowledge of the pontifical chronology
first originated the book. So it was that about the fourth century, the Liber Pontificalis began to be compiled from the old
catalogues of the names of the popes, from their sepulchral inscriptions, from
mentions of them found either in letters or books. At first the biographies
gave a bare mention of the name, the family, the country of the pontiff, the
duration of his pontificate, the decrees made in his time, and the place of his
burial. Between one pontiff and another was mentioned the length of time
during which the chair was vacant. By degrees, however, this concise
information gave way to fuller notices, which gradually took the form of
complete biographies, rich in valuable details. Unfortunately in the last
quarter of the ninth century, when we should have, had greatest need of such
assistance, it fails us almost entirely. The traditional custom of keeping
these records being interrupted by political disturbances, the book falls back
into its primitive bareness, and again becomes a mere catalogue. Later, in the
pontificate of Leo IX, on the revival of historical culture, we shall again
find it fuller in facts and more florid in style—in this also similar to a
river which, after burying itself for a time, reappears elsewhere unexpectedly with
a stronger and a fuller stream.
When
Paulus Diaconus wrote the Gesta of the bishops of Metz, he inaugurated a new kind of historical literature,
which really supplied a want of the times, and met with imitators in many
places during the following centuries. The same idea which had suggested the Liber Pontificalis also gave rise here and there in
various dioceses to histories of the bishops, which often are of the more
value for the general history of the Church on account of the importance of the sees, and the deficiency of other records. So the
histories of the Neapolitan and Ravennese bishops,
compiled in the ninth century, are documents of no slight moment for anyone who
is following carefully the vicissitudes of that age. Like the collection of the
lives of the Roman bishops, the Gesta Episcoporum Neapolitanorum are the work of
different writers, although also like them they were for a long time attributed
almost wholly to one author, Johannes Diaconus. Waitz, in a recent addition of this book, has shown how it
must be divided into three parts. The first, compiled by an unknown author
towards the end of the eighth century, begins with Christ, and descends to the
year 763, adding with its dry records little or nothing to our knowledge. The
second part belongs to that Johannes Diaconus to whom
formerly nearly all the book was attributed, and to whom the credit still
remains of having composed the larger and more important part. John began his
work while a very young man, and taking up the history of the Neapolitan
bishops from the year 763, when the other had left it, he brought it down to
the death of the Bishop Athanasius I (a.d. 872). The beginning of the life of this
bishop’s successor, written by a certain sub-deacon named Peter, forms the
third part of the work, or rather the only fragment of it left, and it is so
short that we need not stop to examine it. John has written his part with a
fair amount of exactitude, nor can his Latin be accused of many errors.
Considering the times, he is a writer of some merit, and is especially praiseworthy
in the care with which he examines the truth of his facts, and the assurance of
it which he gives his reader. This principal work of John’s, as well as other
minor ones, on the lives of some Neapolitan saints and the translation of their
relics, owe their historical value to the numerous relations of Naples with
other places, and especially with Rome, Greece, and the principality of
Benevento.
Of
greater moment is the pontifical book by Agnellus of
Ravenna. The very great importance of this city at the time of the decline of
the Empire not only continued, but, on account of its favourable position on the Adriatic, rather increased during the first centuries of the
Middle Ages. After the war with the Goths, Italy being reconquered by the
Greeks, and then again for the greater part lost through the invasion of the
Lombards, Ravenna became the seat of the Imperial Government, and might be
considered, far more than Rome, the capital of the Empire in Italy. While the
exarchs were governing the Pentapolis from Ravenna in the name of the emperors,
Rome, surrounded by the Lombard dominion, became less and less subject to the
imperial influence, since the popes did all they could to strengthen their own,
and sought to free themselves from their dependence on Constantinople. So it
happened that from this importance of the city of Ravenna resulted the
importance of its see, and the authority of its archbishops rose so high as to
induce them sometimes even to withstand Rome herself, and to refuse to
recognize her pretensions to supremacy. From this it is easy to understand how
great the value must be of this book of Agnellus,
dealing as it does with these powerful bishops. In form much the same as the Roman
Liber Pontificalis, it has also the same title,
although it often shows itself but little favourable to Rome. Contrary to the custom of those who compiled the papal Lives, Agnellus has not omitted to make considerable mention of
himself in his book, and hence we have no difficulty in forming an idea of his
life. Born about 805, at Ravenna, of a noble family, and destined from
childhood for the Church, he was educated in the cathedral (Ecclesia Ursiana). While still a child, he had the benefice
conferred upon him of the Abbey of St. Mary ad Biachernas,
and later that also of St. Bartholomew. The latter, however, afterwards was
taken from him for some time by the Archbishop George, who from being his great
friend became his enemy, and according to Agnellus without any good reason. He was ordained priest by Petronax,
the archbishop who ruled the see from the year 817 till 835. Not only did the
birth and riches of Agnellus combine to place him in
a high position, but he also was as greatly distinguished among the clergy for
his talents and learning as for his merely external advantages. This indeed is
not saying much, as the last editor of Agnellus justly observes, for the clergy of Ravenna at that time were completely
uneducated, still it was enough to encourage him to undertake a work of no
little utility for the distant future. A lover of the fine arts, and frequently
commissioned to attend to the ornamenting and restoring of the churches of
Ravenna, he does not omit to speak of them, and thus his book is also of use in
tracing the history of those monuments which still make Ravenna among the most
remarkable cities of Italy. He knew Greek, and often introduces Greek words
into his writings, which, however, is quite natural in a country subject to
the Greek rule. It appears that his reputation for learning led the other
priests of Ravenna to persuade him to undertake the office of writing the
history of their bishops. Having agreed to do so, Agnellus proceeded but slowly with his task, although urged on impatiently by his
colleagues, to whom he apparently read his book bit by bit as he composed it.
This work, completed about the middle of the ninth century, begins from the
Apostolic times with the life of St. Apollinaris, and comes down to the
bishops who were contemporaries of the author. It is a generally adopted
opinion that it owed its original impulse to the Roman Liber Pontificalis, but we cannot see much foundation for
this idea, which has grown out of the identity of name and out of some
similarities in the arrangement; but such similarities seem to us unavoidable
in a work of which the aim and materials were so similar. Besides, on this
supposition how are we to explain why Agnellus never
appears to have made use of the Roman Lives? In many instances he might have
extracted from them notices which he would have found useful with regard to the
bishops of Ravenna, and it is very unlikely that he would have failed to do so
had he been acquainted with the book. But however this may be, one of the
merits of the work of Agnellus consists in his having
had recourse, not only to books, but to other sources of information. One of
its similarities to the Lives of the Popes is its frequent mention of the
public monuments, and the fact that much of its history is derived from them.
As we have said, Agnellus had a knowledge of art
which was of great service to him in his labours, and
we constantly meet in his book with descriptions of the churches and of other
buildings of the city, while his narrative is supported by the authority of
epigraphs found in them. Neither does he neglect the personal appearance of the
great men of whom he speaks, giving us descriptions of them taken from the
numerous pictures then existing in Ravenna, of which there still remains a
comparative wealth even after so many centuries and so many vicissitudes.
“And
if any of you, who are reading this pontifical book, should be disposed to
doubt, and should wish to inquire, saying: ‘Why did he not recount the acts of
this bishop as he did those of the others, his predecessors?’ Listen, on this
account: I, Agnellus, also called Andreas, a humble
priest of this my humble Church of Ravenna, have composed this aforesaid
pontifical book from the time of the blessed Apollinaris for about eight
hundred years and more after his death, at the request and insistence of the
brothers of this same see. And when I found what they had certainly done, it is
presented to your view, and I have not defrauded your eyes of what I heard
from the elders and ancient men; and when I have heard no history of them nor
of what manner was their life, either through aged and long-lived men, or
through some building, or through any other kind of authority, I have, God
helping me through your prayers, composed their lives in order as one after the
other held this see, that no interval should be left between the holy pontiffs;
and I believe not to have lied, as they were men of prayer, chaste, charitable,
and winners of men’s souls for God. But if there has been wonder among you how
I could know about their likeness, know that painting taught me, as portraits
were always made in their likeness during their lifetime; and if there is any
question as to whether I was right in describing their appearance from the pictures,
Ambrosius of Milan, the holy bishop, in his Passion of the blessed martyrs Gervasius and Protasius, says of
the appearance of the blessed Apostle Paul: ‘Whose countenance a picture taught
me.’ ”
As
might be expected from this method of writing history, Agnellus mixes up many miraculous legends with his facts and the artistic details which
he indirectly gives us. When in the older lives the assistance of positive
information fails him and he knows little beyond the name of the bishop, he
considers himself authorized to add on his own account meritorious acts and
words of praise, comparing, with somewhat bitter reproaches, these ideal lives
of the ancients, with the real ones of the modern bishops. Not only does this
detract from his trustworthiness when relating distant facts, but also his
impartiality towards his contemporaries is very doubtful, when we consider with
what acrimony he expresses himself against the Archbishop George, who for a
certain time took away from him his abbey of St. Bartholomew. He often uses
great freedom of speech with regard to the popes, and shows them little favour, and this fact probably contributed to his being but
little known in the Middle Ages, and to hinder the diffusion of his book, there
being now only one manuscript known which contains the whole of it. As a writer
he exhibits the barbarisms of his time, and his rough and inelegant Latin is
not even grammatical. His very unequal style has been aptly commented upon by
Holder Egger in these words, with which we shall conclude our notice of Agnellus :
“His
language, like that of all the Italian writers of that age, more similar to the
plebeian tongue than to that of the classic authors, pays little attention to
grammatical rules. But various parts differ much among themselves in style and
manner. He writes sometimes correctly enough, and for him elegantly, sometimes
faultily to an extraordinary extent, and quite neglectful of good composition
or correct construction. Sometimes he speaks simply and concisely, but when he
recounts stories which he has heard, he is verbose, excited, often high-flown,
and not seldom obscure. He principally imitates the Holy Scripture, his
language being full beyond measure of its sayings, and also the fathers of the
Church; but at times, when he is carried along by some description, you find
him repeating phrases from Virgil. From which also he falls into the ridiculous
habit of using ancient names, so that he calls the Greeks of his time
Pelasgians, Danaids and Myrmidons. It is moreover to be noted that his
language is full of unusual terms of such especially as are derived from the
Greek.”
The
rapid moral decline which the Roman Church underwent towards the end of the
ninth century, while it dried up the sources of the Liber Pontificalis, gave rise to some writings of a polemical
character, which have had a continuous historical importance up to these latter
times, on account of the numerous questions which have sprung up with regard to
papal infallibility. The story is well-known of Pope Formosus, whose dead body
was dragged from its sepulchre by order of his successor
and enemy Stephen VI, and was tried and solemnly condemned by a synod. This
sacrilegious assembly declared him guilty of having usurped the apostolic chair
and of having offended the laws of the Church, and his election was therefore
annulled and all the acts of his pontificate declared void. When Formosus had
thus been degraded, his disfigured corpse was despoiled of the pontifical
insignia, and after being mutilated was thrown with contumely into the Tiber.
The ever-increasing depravity of the times and the ferocity of party feeling
had brought the papacy down to this miserable condition, and Gregory the Great
had now successors very different from him. But some writers raised their voice
against the vile conduct of Stephen, and undertook the defence of the dead Formosus. One of them, Auxilius, Frank by
origin, lived at Naples, and seems to have died as a monk at Montecassino. He had been ordained priest by Formosus, and
the ordination being considered void, he, soon after this scandalous event,
defended the cause of the condemned pope, which to a certain extent was his
own, with much courage and, for that age, with much learning. The other who
wrote on the same side was Eugenius Vulgarius, an
Italian grammarian, also living as far as we know at Naples, and also author of
a defence of Formosus, which was not only a defence but a panegyric. However, after his first writings,
he leant for a time towards the opposite party, but again later, when John X
came to the papal chair, he showed himself favourable to Formosus by writing the Invectiva in Romam, if indeed he is the author of it, a point not
yet quite cleared up. Although written in a heavy and artificial style, this
pamphlet is almost eloquent from its tone of angry indignation. The Invectiva attacks the whole city of Rome, and
accuses of the execrable crime the Romans who from ancient times were accustomed
to repay their benefactors with death. Hence the holy, just, and catholic
Formosus had now to suffer the violence formerly suffered by Romulus, by St.
Peter and St. Paul. “You dragged from its sepulchre his corpse which had already been nine months buried. If it should be interrogated,
what will it answer? If it answered, all that horrible assembly, struck with
terror, would instantly disperse.” So, in few words, he describes the synod
which judged Formosus, and which was called horribilis also by the Roman
council held in the year 898 in order to make amends for this barbarous insult.
From
these polemical writings, which, notwithstanding their party tone, bear useful
testimony to that extraordinary event, we must now turn to another kind of
composition. As soon as St. Benedict had founded the first monasteries, the
conventual system began immediately to take vast proportions. The spark lighted
at Subiaco and Montecassino spread far and wide, and
bands of Benedictines by this time were scattered over the country districts of
Western Europe. As a response to this ascetic tendency many new monasteries
were being constantly founded, which, favoured by
circumstances, received privileges from princes and were enriched with gifts of
land—a less-prized possession then than now—which they colonized, and by means
of which they rapidly rose to a state of great wealth and power. The rule of
St. Benedict, besides prescribing manual labour in
the fields, imposed on the monks the duty of copying manuscripts, and this not
only secured the inestimable advantage of preserving and multiplying books, but
also helped to keep alive in the monasteries a faint trace of that intellectual
culture which had then almost disappeared in Italy, being entirely neglected
by the rest of the clergy. To this we owe various writings touching the origin
and the early beginnings of some monasteries, which were nearly all composed
in the ninth and tenth centuries. Mixed with legends and miraculous
stories, these writings contain a considerable mass of true facts, and many
touches which the historian can make use of for filling in the picture of an
age with regard to which we are singularly in the dark.
One
of these works relates the origin of the monastery of Farfa in Sabina, which we shall later have occasion to mention more at length. The
first foundation is quite uncertain, and involved in a legendary mist. A holy
man named Lawrence, who came from Syria to Rome in the time of Julian the
Apostate, is said to have founded this monastery, which was then destroyed on
the coming of the Lombards, or, according to another version, even earlier, at
the time of the Vandal invasion under Genseric. Later, with the assistance of Faroaid duke of Spoleto, the pilgrim Thomas of Morienna rebuilt the monastery. Monks flocked in rapidly
from all sides, and the abbey so prospered as shortly to become one of the
first in Italy, having a vast extent of territory, and powerful connections
with the dukes of Spoleto and with Frank and Lombard sovereigns. Hence the
great interest which attaches to all that the Construct, or Liber constructionis farfensis has
to tell us from the year 705, to which the second and certain foundation of the
monastery can be approximately assigned, till the year 857, when the record
ceases. The work of an unknown monk of the ninth century, this writing has not
reached us in the form which its author gave it, and there only remains of it a
portion which was later interpolated into an old manuscript of the monastery
containing lessons on the lives of some saints.
The
fragments which remain are undoubtedly copied from the original, and bear
witness to a purer Latin than is usual in contemporary writings. This perhaps
is owing to the influence of the ties which always bound the monastery to the
Lombard and Frank rulers, and made of it, from the beginning, the bulwark
nearest to the walls of Rome which the royal and imperial authority had in its
struggles with the apostolic chair. Governed by abbots of Frank origin, at a
time when there was far more attention paid to ecclesiastical culture beyond
the Alps than in Rome, the monastery never fell into a complete state of
literary decay, and later we shall see come forth from its precincts the first
beginnings of an historical renaissance, of which this Constructio gives in the meantime some indications. The life of the three founders of the
monastery of St. Vincent on the Volturno is closely
connected with this record, and has furnished materials for it. This monastery
was founded in the first quarter of the eighth century, by three young noblemen
of Benevento, through the counsel and assistance of that same Thomas of Morienna who had recalled to life the ruined monastery of Farfa. Autpertus, a monk, and
later the abbot of St. Vincent, related the history of its founders not many
years after their death. His narrative does not contribute much to our
historical knowledge, and we only mention it on account of its connection with
the history of Farfa, and as an ancient relic of the
Lombard period. More instructive, on the other hand, is the Destructio Farfensis, written at the beginning of the
eleventh century by Hugo, abbot of Farfa. After the
repeated invasions of the barbarians from the North, Italy had to undergo fresh
invasions from Africa. The Saracens, having made themselves masters of Sicily,
continued to extend their dominion in the south of Italy, and where they could
not establish themselves permanently, they made temporary excursions, in which
they slaughtered and plundered wholesale. They advanced or retreated according
to the amount of opposition which they encountered, and which depended on the
momentary political conditions of the peninsula. Rome herself, after having
been frequently threatened, beheld the Saracenic hordes enter the church of St.
Peter, and profane its altars. As was natural, the monasteries of or near the
south of Italy, isolated in position and known to be wealthy, were the special
object of the Saracens’ greed. Their hatred of Christian temples and their rapacity
combined, led to constant raids against these abbeys, which after pillaging
they often destroyed. The monastery of Farfa,
situated among the Sabine hills and in a sufficiently accessible position,
shared the common destiny of destruction. For a long time it remained deserted,
and the monks only returned when there was some hope of their doing so in
safety. The abbey after its restoration underwent many vicissitudes, until the
monk Hugo, having been raised to the dignity of abbot, succeeded, in the course
of a long and glorious reign, in raising both the general condition of the
monastery and its discipline, which had fallen very low. A remarkable man in
many ways, he was not satisfied with reforming his monastery, and restoring to
it its pristine splendour, but he also wished to be
its historian, and to continue the work of the anonymous author of the Construct.
In the good Latin which was traditional to the school of Farfa,
he took up the thread where the other had dropped it, and carried on the
history to his own times, entitling it Destructio from the culminating fact related in it of the Saracenic incursion. For the
history of these incursions, as well as for that of Rome and Spoleto in the
times of Alberic, Marozia and Hugo, King of Italy,
the Destructio is of great importance, and
merits perhaps more attention than it has yet received from historians.
Previous
to the destruction of Farfa, the Saracens had
destroyed the monasteries of St. Vincent, on the Volturno and of Montecassino. This latter, no less flourishing
than the others and more famous, before being finally pillaged by the Arabs,
had long been menaced, in consequence of its position halfway between Rome and
Naples, on the summit of a mountain which commands the valley of the Garigliano, on the banks of which there was an Arab colony.
During this period of anxiety a short chronicle was written, which, after
recapitulating with the help of Paulus Diaconus the
early history of Montecassino, goes on to give many
details of the events in those parts of Italy, from the middle of the ninth
century to the year 867. This chronicle, called the chronicle of St. Benedict,
is most valuable, both for the history of the Lombard principality of
Benevento, as well as for that of the Arabs in Italy, and of their wars with
the Emperor Ludovic II. Like the other chronicles of
that time, it mixes up facts with legends, and is written in a Latin the
rudeness of which could hardly be surpassed even in that barbarous age. In the
following fragment is described the manner in which the monastery escaped on
one occasion from the slaughter which threatened it; and the way in which the
incident is related will show with what caution the historian has to examine
these chronicles in order to separate the truth from the falsehood contained in
them.
“In
those days the Saracens, leaving Rome, devastated the whole oratory of Peter,
the prince of the most blessed apostles, and the church of the blessed Paul,
and they killed there some Saxons, and as many more as they could
without regard to sex or age. Then, taking the town of Fondi and plundering the neighbourhood, they quartered
themselves in the month of September beyond Gaeta. Against these the army of
the Franks advanced, but being beaten by the Saracens on the fourth of the Ides
of November, took to flight. The Saracens followed them, and captured all their
possessions till they came to St. Andrew, whose convent they burnt with fire.
Then, when they came to the convent of the most blessed Bishop Apollinaris,
called Albianus, and saw near it the holy mount of
the most blessed confessor of Christ (Montecassino),
they immediately desired to go there, but the lateness of the hour forbade
their crossing; for then such was the cloudlessness of the heavens and the
dryness of the earth, that anyone could if he wished cross the river on foot. But
the monks of the blessed Father Benedict, seeing that death was so near them,
without loss of time gave each other absolution, imploring the merciful Lord
that He would favourably receive their souls in
peace, which they expected every minute should depart by a speedy death. And
they turned to their blessed master, Benedict, with litanies, and barefoot, and
with ashes sprinkled on their heads. Then, while the terror and fearful
expectation was greatest, and copious prayer was being made to Almighty God,
the Abbot Apollinarius his predecessor appeared in a
vision to the Father Bassacius. ‘What,’ saith he,
‘ails you, and why are you so sorrowful? And Bassacius in reply : ‘Death is imminent, O father, and shall we not be afraid?’ ‘No,’
replies he, ‘be not afraid; for our pious Father Benedict has obtained your
safety. Entreat God constantly with litanies and solemn masses, and God will
hear the voice of those calling on Him; and we, joining with you in the church,
do not cease in common with the citizens of heaven to implore our Lord Jesus
Christ on your behalf.’ So when the pastor Bassacius had awoke and had declared this thing to the brethren, they all together raised
their voices and blessed God, who mercifully saves them who hope in Him. Then
suddenly came on a tremendous rain, lightning, and loud thunder, so that the
river Carnellus (Garigliano),
rising, overflowed its boundaries, and where the day before the enemy might have
gone over on foot, on the following day, constrained by the Divine repulse,
they could not even reach the bank of the river. They made every effort to
cross, and when no way of getting over to the convent was to be found, they ran
about furiously hither and thither, such is their fierce barbarism, biting
their fingers with rage and gnashing their teeth. And not to omit their usual
crimes, they burnt with fire the convents of the blessed martyrs Stephen and
George, and returned to their camp by the Two Lions. After some days, having
killed their horses, they began their sea voyage; and when they approached
their province, so that they already could discern the nearer mountains, they,
as their manner is, expressed their joy in a nautical shout. Then appeared
among them a small ship carrying two men, one having the appearance of an
ecclesiastic, the other wearing a monk’s habit. These said to them, ‘Whence are
you coming, and whither do you go? ’ And they answered, saying, ‘ We are
returning from Peter; for we devastated all his oratory in Rome, and plundered
the neighbourhood. We conquered the Franks and burnt
the convents of Benedict. And you,’ they add, ‘who are you?’ They answer, ‘You
will soon see who we are.’ Instantly arose a violent storm and hurricane, and
all the ships were wrecked, and the whole of the enemy destroyed, for hardly
any one escaped to tell these things to others. And afterwards the venerable Pope
Leo surrounded the oratory of the blessed Peter with very strong, high walls,
that such an event might never again occur in Rome.”
To
the chronicle of Montecassino is added a catalogue of
the abbots of the monastery, with the years indicated in which they lived and
ruled. And here, as we have mentioned this catalogue, appears to be the place
also to speak of this other kind of historical document, not uncommon up to the
end of the eleventh century, and very useful, especially for chronology. These
catalogues generally consist in a simple list of names of sovereigns, bishops,
abbots, and other personages, with a mention of the years in which they
governed, and sometimes the record of some event. So, for example, in one
catalogue the series of Lombard kings terminates thus:
“ Ratchis reigned 5 years, 3 months.
“ Aystulph reigned 8 years, 6 months.
“
Desiderius reigned 18 years, 2 months, 10 days.
“And thus are completed the 201 years in which the aforesaid twenty kings
reigned in the kingdom of Italy, as is set forth above in particular. In which
time Pavia was captured, and the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ had at
that time entered the year 775. But after these aforesaid twenty kings, the
dominion of the kingdom of Italy came to the emperor Charles, who succeeded the
abovementioned Desiderius.” And after a few more words the catalogue begins
the series of the Carolingians, and continues through all the rulers of Italy
up to the Henries of the eleventh century.
When Montecassino was finally seized and devastated by
the Saracens (a.d. 833), the monks were obliged to take refuge in the neighbouring towns of Teano and Capua, and there, in a sort of
exile, wait for better days. The monk Erchempert went
with others to Capua, and there wrote a history of the Lombards of Benevento,
which begins with Duke Arechis, and extends to the
year 889, as usual drawing on Paulus Diaconus and his
followers for the older portion. Born at Teano, Erchempert entered the monastery as a boy, and shared its
troubled destiny in that age of continual turmoils.
Having left Capua for a time after the restoration of Montecassino (886), he appears to have returned there soon after, and to have lived
habitually there, perhaps in some convent dependent on the mother abbey.
During this second residence at Capua, being a Lombard by origin and
connections, he was led, in consequence of the entreaties of his friends, to
write his history, and to recount the vicissitudes of the Lombards in the
south:
“Of
whom in these days nothing honourable or praiseworthy
is known that could be related by a truthful pen, hence I shall, while heaving
deep sighs from my inmost heart, go on to recount briefly and rudely not their
rule, but their destruction—not their good, but their evil fortune—not their
triumph, but their downfall—not how they rose, but in what way they fell—not
how they vanquished others, but how by others they were overcome and beaten.
And I profess also, yielding to friendly entreaties, to narrate not so much
what I have seen with my eyes, as what I have heard with my ears, imitating in
part the example given by the Evangelists Mark and Luke, who described rather
what they had heard than what they had seen.”
Living
in the midst of the scenes of which he writes, sometimes spectator or victim of
the events, more often in direct relation with those who had witnessed them,
his narrative flows on with the easy simplicity of one speaking of things with
which he is familiar. Somewhat rude in style, but not without animation, he
gives us many details with regard to the wars which were then weighing heavily
on the south of Italy, and to the pillaging it underwent at the hands alike of
Saracens and Greeks; and for these latter he entertains a profound contempt,
and perhaps even a greater hatred than for the former. His work deserts us at
the year 889, but had a sequel which very unfortunately is lost. For this loss
we are compensated to a certain extent by the work of an anonymous writer of
Salerno, who gives us particulars about the history of the Lombard
principalities up to the year 974. He makes great use of Paulus Diaconus and of Erchempert for
his compilation, and can only be looked upon as original in the last part of
his work. A lively but not very discerning writer, he is the only chronicler on
whom we have to depend in these years for the history of southern Italy. This
makes us regret all the more the work of Erchempert,
who has certainly among the writers in the South the foremost place, nor are
there any even in central Italy who can be compared to him, except those of
the school of Farfa.
In
northern Italy two writers, very different from each other, give signs of
literary activity in the domain of history. One of them, the priest Andrew of
Bergamo, made a résumé in the year 877 of the Lombard history by Paulus Diaconus, and continued it up to his own time. This is
perhaps the most barbarous of all the writings which we have yet mentioned, so
that even its great accuracy, which makes it valuable for what regards the
middle of the ninth century, does not prevent it from being exceedingly
wearisome. On the other hand, a few years later, on the opening of the tenth
century, we come upon an historical poem, which, leaving all other contemporary
writings far behind, unexpectedly reveals to us a wide knowledge of the Latin
language and of classic authors. Berengarius is the
hero of this poem, which enlarges upon the exploits he performed in order to
gain first the kingdom of Italy, and later the imperial crown. The poem,
entitled Panegyricus Berengarii,
is in truth a panegyric, and therefore, when taken as an isolated source of
history, has not much weight. With great address the anonymous author tries to
give a legitimate air to every pretension put forward by Berengarius,
and to excuse with his verses the tyranny of might. But although this work must
not be implicitly trusted, it is of great merit as a literary production. It
was apparently composed at Verona, between the years 916 and 924, by a
grammarian whose name is unknown. We cannot be sure whether the author was lay
or clerical, but it seems more probable, considering the ignorance then
prevalent among the clergy, that he was a layman. Proposing to himself the
examples of Homer, Virgil, and Statius, he follows in their footsteps in
relating the exploits of his hero up to his coronation in Rome. Notwithstanding
many defects, such as involved constructions and artificial or obscure
expressions, his hexameters—adorned with lines of classical poetry—are put
together with sufficient ability, if we remember when they appeared. Intended
to be read and studied in the grammatical schools, the panegyric was honoured by a contemporary commentary which explains the
less easy passages. The commentary itself is also worthy of remark, on account
of the excellent knowledge it shows of classical literature, but more
especially for a certain way of treating the matter, which gives evidence of this
knowledge, not only in the commentator, but also in those to whom he addressed
himself.
In
presence of this work and of the other signs of learning that appear scattered
here and there in Italy about that time, the question naturally arises, what
was then the state of Italian education? Was Italy really sunk in the depths of
barbarism, as would seem indicated by the scanty ecclesiastical writings which
have reached us from those centuries? Professor Wattenbach has recently answered this question with such clearness and acumen that we
should be defrauding our reader were we to withhold from him the following page
of the learned German, or to give it instead in our own words:
“Here
we meet with a culture which certainly does not originate in the Church, but is
nurtured by those isolated grammarians whose activity never ceased in Italy. It
is the merit of W. von Giesebrecht to have pointed
out that these schools always existed in Italy, and spread a degree of
education among the laity which was unknown on this side of the Alps. In Italy,
says Wipo in the eleventh century, all the youths go
regularly to school, and only in Germany is it considered unnecessary or
unbecoming to have a boy instructed unless he is intended for the Church. The
Italian laity read their Virgil and Horace, but wrote no books; while the
clergy partly fell into a state of barbarism, partly were too much taken up
with political affairs to share in the scientific efforts of the times. In this
way we can explain the absence of literary productivity and the poverty of such
literature as there was; while on the other hand, in this panegyrist, and
somewhat later in Liutprand, a sudden and astonishing
richness of classical learning, and great facility of expression, present themselves,
especially in versifying, which was a principal point in the school education.
For a few also of the clergy tasted of this forbidden fruit, though in general
the Church was opposed to such pastime, seeing in it, and with truth, a pagan
element. Science was not here taken into the service of the Church; it asserted
its independence, but was almost entirely of a formal character, and therefore
essentially unproductive.”
This
arid historical era, the scanty sources of which we have tried here to place
before the reader as they one by one presented themselves, closes in the year
961 with the rise of the dominion of the Othos. The
feeble rule of Charlemagne’s successors, by undermining the force of the
monarchy, had so strengthened that of the nobles, that they, having become by
degrees nearly independent, quarrelled among
themselves in a struggle for supremacy. In this way grew up those haughty and
powerful lords of Turin, of Friuli, of Tuscany and Spoleto, who aspired to the
kingdom, no longer feeling any allegiance to the empire. To this period belong
the struggles of Berengarius, duke of Friuli, with
Guido of Spoleto and with his son Lambert for the throne of Italy, and their
disputes with each other and with the German and French princes for the
imperial throne (a.d. 888-924); also the turbulent and tyrannical reigns of Rudolph, Hugo, and Lothair of Provence, and lastly of Berengarius II who oppressed Italy, while in Rome the Alberics and the famous Marozia dragged through the mire the papacy of which they had made
themselves masters (a.d. 924-961). At this point the darkness begins to diminish, and the age follows of
the three Saxon Othos who held the empire and ruled
Italy for about forty years, from the year 961 to 1002. This is not the place
to examine the advantages and disadvantages of this rule, and how by it that
bond between Italy and Germany was drawn so close as to unite the histories of
the two nations from that time in a painful chain of events rife with misery
and blood. We may mention, however, that Otho the Great, in order to restrain
the unbridled power of the nobles, seconded the development of municipal
liberty, and in the cities, by increasing the political attributes of the
bishops, substituted to a certain extent the power of an elective nobility for
that of an hereditary one. This was the cause of the many adherents whom the Othos numbered among the clergy, and especially among the
bishops of North Italy. Preeminent among them is Liutprand,
bishop of Cremona, who became the historian of those times. Like the more
ancient writers whose works we have examined, Liutprand played a distinguished part in public life. He was born about the year 920 in
Lombardy, and according to some in the very city of Pavia. Having lost his
father in infancy, he was educated with great care by his stepfather, “ a man
graced with dignity and full of wisdom,” as he tells us in words which recall
what we have just said of the education of the Italian laity. In the year 931,
being recommended to King Hugo as a boy of much talent, and possessing a fine
voice, he was admitted to the royal court, and gained the king’s favour; later he entered the Church, and was inscribed
among the deacons of Pavia. When in 945 Hugo had to fly from his kingdom, Liutprand succeeded in obtaining an honourable position in the court of the new king, Berengarius II. This monarch seems for some time to have appreciated his abilities and to
have been glad to make use of them. In the year 949-50 he was sent to
Constantinople as ambassador, for which position he seemed specially adapted
by his education and family traditions, the same post having been filled both
by his father and his stepfather. This journey was of the greatest use to him
in learning the customs and institutions of the Greeks, as well as in gaining a
thorough knowledge of their language and literature, which was destined to be
of great service to him in after life. After his return home he fell into great
disgrace, for what reason is not well known, with King Berengarius and his queen Willa, and was obliged to take refuge in Germany, where he was honourably received by the Saxon king Otho I. During his
years of exile he familiarized himself with the German tongue, which also
proved very advantageous to him later, in treating the State affairs with
which he was entrusted when Otho, urged by his high destinies, descended into
Italy. In the year 956, while he was still at the German court, he formed a
friendship with Recemund, bishop of Elvira, who
advised him to undertake a history of his own times. The advice was not given
in vain, for after two years’ reflection, Liutprand began his work at Frankfort. The hatred which he felt for King Berengarius and Queen Willa suggested a title for his work,
and he called it Antapodosis, or the book of
retribution, meaning by this that, he would pay back good for good to his
friends, and evil for evil to those who had driven him into exile. The six
books of the Antapodosis were written in
different places and with interruptions between 958 and 962. Beginning with the
year 888—a date sufficiently recent for the author to be able to collect oral
contemporary, or nearly contemporary evidence—he relates the history of the
events as they had occurred throughout Europe. It is a very curious book, in
which the vicissitudes of different countries follow and cross each other with
an abundance of detail truly marvellous. Naturally
Italian affairs occupy the greater part of the book, but its vast range
embraces the most distant people and things. Italians, Germans, Saracens, types
of every kind, from popes and emperors down to the common people, exploits of
the purest virtue and indecent scandals, all are mixed up in this book, in
which, moreover, it is remarkable how small is the part played by miraculous
legends. The narrative reaches the year 950, but at that period the sixth book
of the Antapodosis remains incomplete. Liutprand had intended to bring the work down to the time
of his exile, but was hindered from doing so; partly no doubt by the mass of
public business which weighed upon him, partly perhaps, as Dummler thinks, because his anger was appeased by the fall of Berengarius.
The year 961 had brought a great change in his fortunes, and Otho the Great,
immediately after his descent into Italy, proposed him for the episcopal chair
of Cremona. His quick and versatile talents, his decided aptitude for
diplomatic posts, his familiar knowledge of various languages, made him
specially fitted for the conduct of State affairs. From that time he was in the
midst of everything that regarded Italy, and the relations of Otho with Greece.
In the summer of the year 964 he went to Rome as ambassador to Pope John XII,
and shortly afterwards was present at the council which deposed that unworthy
pontiff, and there interpreted Otho’s speech to the Italian bishops. He took
part in the election of Leo VIII, and in the deposition of his rival, Benedict
V. He wrote, at the command of the emperor, a history of all the events of
which he had been eyewitness from 960 to 964, and called it Historia Ottonis. Perhaps the dignity of the high offices which
he had filled, and his own share in the facts related, contributed to make the
tone of this work much calmer and freer from that party feeling which rendered
the Antapodosis so bitter against Berengarius and Willa. Nor did this only serve to render
him less partial, it also added vivacity and colouring to his narrative. The deposition of John XII, for instance, is related in so
lively and distinct a manner, that we seem, while reading, to be assisting at
the council which decreed it. After describing the differences on account of
which the emperor and the pope came to be on terms which admitted of no
reconciliation, and telling how the pope not only paid no attention to his
embassy, but, in defiance of the emperor, had received Adelbert,
son of King Berengarius, within the very walls of
Rome, Liutprand continues thus :
“While
these things are happening, the oppressive constellation of the Cancer drives
the emperor away from the Roman castles on account of the heat of Phoebus’
rays. But when the constellation Virgo returning, brought a pleasant
temperature, he came to Rome, having collected his troops, and been secretly
invited by the Romans. But why should I say secretly, when the greater part of
the Roman nobility proceeded to the castle of St. Paul, and invited the holy
emperor, and even gave hostages? Why should I lose time with many words? The
emperor having encamped near the city, the pope and Adelpert both fly from Rome. And the citizens receive the holy emperor into their town
and repeat their promise of fidelity ; adding, and firmly swearing, that they
would never elect or ordain a pope against the consent and choice of their lord
the Emperor Otho, their august caesar, and of his son
King Otho.
“After
three days, at the request of the Roman bishops and people, a large assembly is
held in the church of St. Peter; and with the emperor sat the archbishops:
from Italy—for Ingelfred, patriarch of Aquileia, who
as it happened was detained in that city by a sudden illness, the Deacon Rodalph; Walpert of Milan; Peter
of Ravenna : from Saxony—Adeltac, the archbishop; Landohard, the bishop: from France—Otker,
bishop of Spires: from Italy—Hubert of Parma, Liutprand of Cremona, Hermenald of Reggio.”
Here
follows a long list of bishops, almost all Italian, and of the cardinals and
Roman priests who were present at the council, as well as the representatives
of the nobility and people of Rome after which Liutprand resumes his narrative:
“These
therefore being present, and keeping perfect silence, the holy emperor began
thus: ‘How right it would be that the Lord Pope John should be present at so
distinguished and holy a council! But we ask you, O holy fathers, who have had
life and business in common with him, why he refused to join such an assembly?’
Then the Roman pontiffs and cardinal priests and deacons, with the whole
populace, replied : ‘We wonder that your most holy prudence should want us to
inquire into this matter, which is not unknown to the inhabitants of Iberia,
Babylon, or India. For he is not one of those who come in sheep’s clothing, but
are in truth ravening wolves. He rages so openly, he carries on so plainly his
diabolical practices, that he uses no circumambient ways.’ The emperor
answered : ‘It appears to us just, that the accusations should be set forth one
by one; then what we should do can be decided on by common advice.’ Then the
cardinal priest Peter, rising up, bore witness that he had seen him celebrate mass
without communicating. John, bishop of Narni, and
John, the cardinal deacon, declared that they saw him ordain a deacon in a
stable, and not at the appointed times. Benedict, the cardinal deacon, with
other deacons and priests, said that they knew that he had for reward made
ordinations of bishops, and had ordained a bishop of Todi ten years old. As to sacrilege, they said there was no need of information,
since it could be witnessed by sight rather than by hearing ... They told how
he hunted publicly; how he had blinded his godfather Benedict, who had
afterwards died; that he had mutilated and killed John, the cardinal sub-deacon; they bore witness that he had been guilty of arson, and that he had worn
helmet and cuirass with a sword girt round him. All declared—clergy as well as
laity—that he had drunk wine in honour of the devil.
They said that, in playing dice, he had invoked the assistance of Jove, Venus,
and other demons. Finally, they declared that he did not even celebrate matins,
or the canonical hours, nor bless himself with the sign of the cross.
“The
emperor, having heard all this, and knowing that the Romans could not
understand his language, which was Saxon, commanded Liutprand,
bishop of Cremona, to express to them in the Latin tongue these things as
follows. And rising, he thus began : ‘It often happens, and we believe it from
our own experience, that those placed in high dignities are defamed by the baseness
of the envious; for the good are as displeasing to the wicked, as the wicked
are to the good. And it is on this account that we hold in suspense this
accusation against the pope which Benedict the cardinal deacon has just read
and made with you, being uncertain whether it has arisen from a zeal for
justice or from the malice of impiety. Hence, according to the authority of the
dignity granted to me, unworthy though I am, I call upon all of you, by God
whom no man can deceive though he may wish to do so, and by His holy and immaculate
mother the Virgin Mary, and by the most precious body of the prince of the
apostles, in whose church these things are being said, to fling no accusations
against the lord pope of which he is not verily guilty, and which were not seen
by men of the greatest probity.’ Then the bishops, priests, deacons, and the
rest of the clergy, with the whole Roman people, exclaimed as one man, ‘If Pope
John has not committed both these base crimes read aloud by Benedict the
deacon, and others baser and greater than these, may the most blessed Peter,
prince of the apostles, not absolve us from the chain of our sins, he who by
his word closes heaven to the unworthy, and opens it to the just, but may we be
entangled in a chain of anathema, and in the Last Day be placed on the left
hand with those who said to their Lord God: “Retire from us, for we desire not
the knowledge of Thy ways.” Therefore, if thou dost not trust us, at least thou shouldst believe the army of our lord the emperor, to
which he approached five days ago, girded with the sword and wearing a shield,
helmet and cuirass, and only the Tiber which flowed between prevented his being
captured by the army while thus equipped.’ Then the holy emperor said : ‘There
are as many witnesses of this fact as there are warriors in our army.’ The holy
synod replied: ‘If it please the holy emperor, let letters be sent to the lord
pope, that he may come to purge himself of all these things.’ Then letters were
prepared for him to the following purport:
“To
the supreme pontiff and universal pope the Lord John, Otho, by Divine clemency
august emperor, with the archbishops, the bishops of Liguria, Tuscany, Saxony,
and France, in the Lord. Coming to Rome for the service of God, when we
inquired of your sons, namely, the Roman bishops, cardinals, priests, and
deacons, and moreover of the whole people, as to your absence, and what cause
there could be why you should not wish to see us, the defenders of your Church
and of yourself, they brought forward such things and so unseemly against you,
that if they were said of actors we should feel ashamed. And lest these things
should be hidden from your greatness, we mention some of them to you in
brevity, since did we try to express them all one by one a whole day would not
suffice to us. Know, therefore, that not by a few, but by all, of our order as
well as of the other, you are accused of homicide, perjury, and sacrilege ...
They also say, a thing horrible to hear of, that you have drunk wine in honour of the devil, and have implored the assistance, in
the game of dice, of Jupiter, Venus, and other demons. We therefore earnestly
entreat your paternity, that you should not refuse to come to Rome and clear
yourself from all these things. If perchance you fear the violence of the
impulsive multitude, we assure you with an oath that nothing shall be done
against the sanction of the holy canons. Given the eighth of the Ides of
November.
“When
he had read this letter, he wrote an answer as follows: ‘John the bishop,
servant of the servants of God, to all the bishops. We have heard it said that
you want to make another pope; if you do this, I excommunicate you by Almighty
God, that you may not have permission to ordain any one, or to celebrate mass.
“When
this uncouth letter was read in the council, it gave as little satisfaction for
its form as for its contents. They decided that the emperor, with the whole
synod, should in reply bid John come to Rome to exculpate himself, threatening
to depose him in case of his refusal. The letter was immediately written with
the resolute vigour of phraseology and meaning with
which it had been imagined. The excommunication threatened by the pope was set
at nought, and his flippant treatment of the
assembly was strongly censured, their authority for threatening him with
excommunication in the case of his non-appearance was affirmed, and they
finally compared him to Judas, whose treason had put an end to his apostolic
authority. The letter was entrusted to the Cardinals Adrian and Benedict, with
the injunction to convey it to him without delay,—
“Who,
when they reached Tivoli, did not find him ; for he had already gone armed into
the country; nor was there any one who could tell them where he was. And when
they could not find him, they returned with the letter to the holy synod,
sitting for the third time. Then the emperor said : ‘We waited for his coming
that we might in his presence complain of his conduct towards us, but as we
know with certainty that he will not come, we beg of you again and again to
take diligent note of his perfidy to us. For we make it known to you,
archbishops, bishops, priests, deacons, and the rest of the clergy, as also to
the counts, judges, and the whole people, that this same Pope John, being
oppressed by Berengarius and Adelbert,
our rebels, sent messengers into Saxony to us, asking that for the love of God
we should come into Italy and deliver from their fangs the church of St. Peter
and himself. But it is not necessary to tell what by the help of God we
effected, since you can now see it. But he, saved by my labours from their hands, and reinstated in the dignity due to him, forgot the oath and
fidelity which he promised me on the body of St Peter, brought the same Adelpert to Rome and defended him against me, stirring up
seditions, and made himself a leader in the war in the sight of our soldiers,
putting on helmet and cuirass. Now let the holy synod pronounce what it decides
upon this? To this the Roman pontiffs, the rest of the clergy, and the whole of
the people answered: ‘An unheard of wound must be cauterized in an unheard of
manner. If he only injured himself and not all by his corrupt conduct, he
should at any cost be tolerated. How many who were chaste before, have become
immoral from imitating him! How many just men have from the example of his
conversation become reprobate! We therefore beg your imperial greatness to
drive away from the holy Roman Church this monster, unredeemed from his vices
by any virtue, and to put up another in his place, who may merit by the example
of a good conversation to preside over and assist us, who may himself live
rightly, and give us an example of right living? Then the emperor replies :
‘What you say pleases us, and nothing will be more welcome to us than that such
a one may be found, who may be placed at the head of this holy and universal
see?
“When
he had spoken thus, all with one voice exclaimed : ‘We choose for our shepherd,
as supreme and universal pope of the holy Roman Church, Leo the venerable
protonotary of the holy Roman Church, a proved man and worthy of the supreme
grade of the priesthood; John the apostate being cast off on account of his
reprobate conduct.’ And when they had all said this for the third time, and the
emperor had agreed, they conduct, with praises according to the custom, the
said Leo to the Lateran palace, and, after a given time, raise him by holy
consecration in St. Peter’s church to the supreme priesthood, and promise with
an oath to be faithful to him.
“When
these things had happened in this way, the most holy emperor, hoping that he
could remain in Rome with but few men, gave permission to many to retire, that
the Roman people might not be oppressed by the great number of the army. And
when John, who was called pope, heard this, knowing how easily the minds of the
Romans are bribed with money, sent messengers secretly to Rome, and promised
the money of St. Peter and of all the churches, if they would fall upon the
pious emperor and the Lord Pope Leo, and impiously slay them. Why should I
lose time in many words? Then the Romans, confiding in the smallness of the
army, nay, deceived by it, and encouraged by the promise of money, try to hurry
upon the emperor with the sounding of a trumpet, in order to kill him. And the
emperor meets them upon the bridge of the Tiber, which the Romans had
barricaded with carts. And his strong soldiers, accustomed to war, and intrepid
in courage and arms, rush out among them, and strike them down without
resistance, as hawks among a crowd of birds. There were no hiding-places, no
baskets, ships, or drains, which could protect the fugitives. They are
slaughtered therefore, and as is customary in meeting with strong men, are
everywhere wounded in the back. Who of the Romans would then have survived this
massacre, if the holy emperor, moved by pity, of which he owed none to them, had
not drawn and called back his men still thirsting for bloodshed? ”
Unfortunately,
the narrative of these events, written while they were happening, was not completed
by Liutprand, and was interrupted soon after this
exaggerated account of the Roman sedition. Public affairs pressed upon him. Returning
to Cremona soon after the council, he did not remain there long, and on the
death of Leo VIII (a.d. 965), was sent again to Rome for the election of the new pope. In 967, he took
part in two other councils at Ravenna and Rome, and in the latter city was
present at the coronation of the young Otho II, whom his father had raised to a
share in the Empire. With his thoughts fixed on the restoration of a western
empire, Otho’s actions tended to bring the papacy into a certain subjection to
him, while appearing only to reform it, and he tried to appropriate the whole
of Italy, by driving away from the south Arabs and Greeks. At the same time,
and with the same object, he sought the friendship of the Byzantine court, and
an alliance with it by means of the marriage of his son to a Greek princess,
being desirous of surrounding his throne with the classic splendour of ancient traditions. The realization, however, of this plan met with
hindrances in the susceptibility and suspicions of the Greeks, which certainly
were justified by the growth of Otho’s power in southern Italy. It was
necessary to find the man fitted to conquer this diffidence, skilled in
diplomatic intricacies and well acquainted with Greece. Certainly this man
seemed to be Liutprand, who was sent to the Emperor
Nicephorus Phocas, and commissioned to make a formal demand for the hand of Theophania, daughter of Romanus II. But the embassy proved
fruitless. Liutprand was badly received, and with
open contempt. Nicephorus, at the very first audience, complained to him
vehemently of his master’s occupation of Rome, of the title of emperor which he
had assumed, and of the recognition obtained from the princes of Benevento and
Capua,—all things which he considered injurious to his interests. The arguments
and bold answers of the ambassador availed nothing, or only served to add fuel
to the wrath of the Eastern potentate. After various audiences, all of which
were useless, and after having been scornfully treated in a thousand ways, and
kept a long time at Constantinople more as a prisoner than an ambassador, Liutprand was at last allowed as a favour to return to his own land without having succeeded in anything. He was very
much vexed at this diplomatic defeat, and gave vent to his vexation in the
report of his embassy which he addressed to the two Othos and to the Empress Adelaide. Notwithstanding the traces of personal vanity and
partiality customary in Liutprand’s writings, this Relatio de Legatione Constantinopolitana offers us a most interesting
picture of the Greek court. Gregorovius, with his
usual exuberance of fancy, says that “this charming pamphlet resembles an
oasis which we meet with while crossing a literary desert,” and adds, that
since Procopius we have no writing to be compared to it. We, remembering
Paulus Diaconus, should hesitate to subscribe to this
judgment, but certainly the Relatio is among
the most agreeable and instructive pieces of writing which the early part of
the Middle Ages offers us in Italy. The description of the court of Nicephorus,
the lively answers with which, according to his own account, Liutprand defended his sovereign and people from the
accusations made against them, the treachery and greedy corruption of the
Greeks, the difficulties he met with when he wanted to leave Constantinople,
and also on his journey home, are all described with a vivacity which renders
the book very attractive. Like all the other books of this writer, however, it
also is incomplete, and the narrative of his return journey, at the beginning
of the year 969 is interrupted. After his return to Otho’s court, he continued
to take part in public affairs. In 971, when the death of Nicephorus Phocas had
made the relations between the two courts more amicable, it appears that he was
again sent to Constantinople with the solemn embassy which went to fetch the
princess Theophania, the destined bride of Otho II.
But his career was now at an end, and he did not again reach his bishopric. The
exact date and place of his death are unknown, but he seems to have died,
either while still in Greece, or immediately after his return to Italy with Theophania, in the first months of 972, and when little
over fifty years of age.
The
life and writings of this remarkable man bear the impress of a keen and
original intelligence, as well as of a lively and passionate character. Equal
to the best writers among his contemporaries in Europe, he is incomparably
superior to the other Italian writers of the day. He received an excellent lay
education from a child, and soon learnt to know and value the best authors.
Terence, Cicero, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, and the classics generally, were
familiar to him, and he tried to introduce phrases from them everywhere into
his writings; and though there was in this much ostentation, yet he did it at
least with more judgment than other mediaeval writers. Nor did he content
himself with quotations from the Latin classics, but in all his writings took
delight in showing off his erudition, by constantly interlarding his Latin
with Greek words and phrases. As the model for his style he took principally
Severinus Boetius, the influence of whose books was
unlimited in the Middle Ages; and especially in his Antapodosis he followed the example of Boetius by mixing often
tolerably good verses with his prose. But even this exaggerated spirit of
imitation did not suffice to destroy the literary originality of a man so
strongly imbued with a sense of his own personality. The Antapodosis,
being the longest and most freely handled of his works, is the one perhaps
which best reveals the character of the man and his contradictions. Talented
and credulous, acute in his observation of facts, and rash in his judgments,
desirous of good but too easily led to find fault, and a ready retailer of
scandals, he takes bitter revenge on his enemies, especially Berengarius and Willa, while he is guilty of adulation when
praising his benefactors; yet it is evident to the reader that he feels what
he says, and paints in dark or bright colours according to his inmost convictions. His authority as an historian was formerly
rated too low on account of these personal characteristics, and now we seem to
note a modern tendency to rate him somewhat above his due. It appears to us
that, although Liutprand’s narratives, as far as they
regard particular details, are of great use for confirming or explaining things
related by his contemporaries, they must nevertheless be employed with more
caution than is shown by some recent historians. But, on the whole, certainly
no contemporary work assists us more than his does to form a general idea of
the tenth century, and to give us in vivid colours a
mental picture of it. With his varied experience of life, and his carefully
cultivated talents, Liutprand, both as statesman and
as author, was more than anyone else in a position to seize and combine the
facts which he witnessed, while his lively and ingenuous disposition is
especially adapted to awaken in us those same impressions which the real events
had made upon his mind.
The
chronicle of Benedict of Mount Soracte, written about
this time, is very different, both in spirit and in form, from the works of Liutprand. The monk Benedict, with rude simplicity, tries
to put together the history of the world from the coming of Christ, but the
only value of his labours lies in the local history
of Rome about the times of Alberic, on whom, as protector
of his monastery, he lavishes great praise. The voice of the monk rises in
tones of reproach, though without either hatred or malice, against the new
monarchs from beyond the Alps, whose soldiery he saw from the solitary and
poetic heights of Soracte, spread over the Roman
campagna. In strong contrast with the adulatory exaggeration of Liutprand, and breathing a kind of inspired melancholy,
these rude pages leave an impression of sadness on the reader, and their
barbarous language rises to a funereal eloquence at the memory of the
abandonment in which Rome was left after the ferocious acts of repression with
which Otho stifled the rebellion of the Romans to his authority. “Woe to thee,
O Rome!” he exclaims, “who art oppressed and trampled on by so many nations;
who wert taken even by the Saxon king, and thy people put to the sword, and thy
strength reduced to nought. Thou who in thy greatness
didst triumph over the nations, didst trample on the world, and put to death
the kings of the earth, holding the sceptre and
supreme power, thou art despoiled by the Saxon king and utterly exhausted. ...
Thou wert too beautiful; we can even now see all thy walls, with their towers
and battlements. Thou hadst three hundred and eighty
towers, forty-six castles, six thousand eight hundred battlements, and fifteen
gates. Woe to thee, Leonine city! Thou wast but
lately captured by the king of the Saxons, and art now already abandoned!”
Melancholy
words truly, and a sad contrast between the present decline and the past splendour! But if the wretched condition of Rome inspired
the rude lament of Benedict of Soracte, on the other
hand from Venice Johannes Diaconus, chaplain and
perhaps relation of the Doge Pietro Orseolo (991-1009), opens to us the first pages of one of the most wonderful histories
of the world. John had been sent several times as ambassador to
Otho III and Henry II, was a man of the world, and had much experience of life
and of public affairs; of this we find evident traces in his narrative, which
flows along easily and entertainingly, without any display of rhetoric or much
attention to grammar. Beginning with the first origins of Venice, it extends to
the year 1008, full of omissions and errors in the older part, but affording
valuable information about contemporary facts, especially regarding the
relations between the emperors and Venice. With John we are outside the life of
the cloister, and breathe freely the fresh air of the lagunes. A worthy
predecessor of Andrea Dandolo, he first gives us
glimpses of that glorious epoch of the communes, towards which Italy was
tending throughout the period of laborious efforts that we are now about to
examine.
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