 CHAPTER 69 PART 1 OF THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, VOLUME 6 RECORDING BY CHRISTINE THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, VOLUME 6 BY EDWARD GIBBON CHAPTER 69 STATE OF ROME FROM THE 12TH CENTURY, PART 1 STATE OF ROME FROM THE 12TH CENTURY TEMPORAL DEMINION OF THE POPES SEDICIANS OF THE CITY POLITICAL HERESY OF ARNOLD OF BREZCIA RESTORATION OF THE REPUBLIC THE SENATORS PRIDE OF THE ROMANS THEIR WORDS THEY ARE DEPRIVED OF THE ELECTION AND PRESENCE OF THE POPES WHO RETIRED TO OVINION THE JUBILEE, NOBLE FAMILIES OF ROME, FOID OF THE COLONNA AND URSINI IN THE FIRST AGES OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, OUR EYE IS INVARIABLY FIXED ON THE ROYAL CITY, WHICH HAD GIVEN LAWS TO THE FAIREST PORTION OF THE GLOBE, IT CONTEMPLATED HER FORTUNDS, AT FIRST WITH ADMIRATION, AT LENGTH WITH PITY, ALWAYS WITH ATTENTION, AND WHEN THAT ATTENTION IS DEVERTED FROM THE CAPITAL TO THE PROVINCES, THEY ARE CONSIDERED AS SO MANY BRENCHES WHICH HAVE BEEN SUCCESSIVELY SEVERED FROM THE IMPERIAL TRUNK. THE FOUNDATION OF THE SECOND ROM, ON THE SHORES OF THE BOSPHORUS, HAS COMPAILED THE HISTORIAN TO FOLLOW THE SUCCESSORS OF CONSTANTINE, AND OUR CURIOSITY HAS BEEN TEMPTED TO VISIT THE MOST REMOTE COUNTRIES OF EUROPAN ASIA TO EXPLORE THE COASES AND THE AUTHORS OF THE LONG DECAY OF THE BISANTINE MONARCHY. BY THE CONQUEST OF JUSTINIAN WE HAVE BEEN RECALLED TO THE BANKS OF THE TYBER, TO THE DELIVERANCE OF THE ANCIENT METROPOLIS, BUT THAT DELIVERANCE WAS A CHANGE, OR PERHAPS AN AGROVATION OF SERVITUDE. Rome had been already stripped of her trophies, her gods, and her caesars, nor was the Gothic Dominion more inglorious and oppressive than the tyranny of the Greeks. In this eighth century of the Christian era, a religious quarrel, the worship of images, provoked the Romans to assert their independence. Their bishop became the temporal, as well as the spiritual father of a free people, and of the Western Empire, which was restored by Charlemagne. The title and image still decorate the singular constitution of modern Germany. The name of Rome must yet command our involuntary respect. The climate, whatsoever may be its influence, was no longer the same. The purity of blood had been contaminated through a thousand channels, but the vulnerable aspect of her ruins and the memory of past greatness, rekindled a spark of the national character. The darkness of the Middle Ages exhibits some scenes not unworthy of our notice, nor shall I dismiss the present work till I have reviewed the state and revolutions of the Roman city which acquiesced under the absolute dominion of the popes, about the same time that Constantinople was enslaved by the Turkish arms. In the beginning of the 12th century, the era of the first crusade, Rome was revered by the Latins as the metropolis of the world, as the throne of the pope and the emperor, who, from the eternal city, derived their title, their owners, and the right or exercise of temporal dominion. After so long an interruption it may not be useless to repeat that the successors of Charlemagne and the Ossoces were chosen beyond the Rhine in a national deity, but that these princes were content with the humble names of kings of Germany and Italy, till they had passed the Alps and the Epinine to seek their imperial crown on the banks of the Tiber. At some distance from the city their approach was saluted by a long procession of the clergy and people with palms and crosses, and the terrific emblems of wolves and lions, of dragons and eagles, that floated in the military banners that represented the departed legions and cohorts of the Republic. The real path to maintain the liberties of Rome was thrice-reiterated at the bridge, the gate, and on the stairs of the Vatican, and the distribution of a customary donative feebly imitated the magnificence of the first Caesar's. In the Church of St. Peter the coronation was performed by his successor, the voice of God was confounded with that of the people, and the public consent was declared in the acclamations of Long life and victory to our Lord the Pope, Long life and victory to our Lord's Emperor, Long life and victory to the Roman and Teotonic armies. The names of Caesar and Augustus, the laws of Constantine and Justinian, the example of Charlemagne and Otto established the supreme dominion of the emperors. Their title and image was engraved on the papal coins, and their jurisdiction was marked by the sword of justice, which they delivered to the prefect of the city. But every Roman prejudice was awakened by the name, the language, and the manners of a barbarian Lord. The Caesars of Saxony and Orr Franconia were the chiefs of Ophoidal aristocracy, nor could they exercise the discipline of civil and military power, which alone secures the obedience of a distant people, impatient of servitude, though perhaps incapable of freedom. Once and once only in his life, each emperor with an army of Teotonic vassals descended from the Alps. I have described the peaceful order of his entry and coronation, but that order was commonly disturbed by the clamour and sedition of the Romans, who encountered their sovereign as a foreign invader. His departure was always speedy, and often shameful. And in the absence for long reign, his authority was insulted, and his name was forgotten. The progress of independence in Germany and Italy undermined the foundations of the imperial sovereignty, and the triumph of the popes was the deliverance of Rome. Of her two sovereigns, the emperor had precariously reigned by the right of conquest, but the authority of the pope was founded on the soft, though more solid basis of opinion and habit. The removal of a foreign influence restored and endeared as a shepherd to his flock, instead of the arbitrary or venal nomination of a German court, the Vicar of Christ was freely chosen by the College of Cardinals, most of whom were either natives or inhabitants of the city. The applause of the magistrates and people confirmed his election, and the ecclesiastical power that was obeyed in Sweden and Britain had been ultimately derived from the suffrage of the Romans. The same suffrage gave a prince as well as a pontiff to the capital. It was universally believed that Constantine had invested the popes with a temporal dominion of Rome, and the boldest civilians, the most profane skeptics, were satisfied with disputing the right of the emperor and the validity of his gift. The truth of the fact the authenticity of his donation was deeply rooted in the ignorance and tradition of four centuries, and the fabulous origin was lost in the real and permanent effects. The name of Dominus, or Lord, was inscribed on the coin of the bishops. Their title was acknowledged by acclamations and oaths of allegiance, and with the free or reluctant consent of the German Caesars, they had long exercised a supreme or subordinate jurisdiction over the city and patron money of St. Peter. The reign of the popes which gratified their prejudices was not incompatible with the liberties of Rome, and a more critical inquiry would have revealed a still nobler source of their power, the gratitude of a nation whom they could rescued from the heresy and oppression of the Greek tyrant. In an age of superstition it should seem that the union of the royal and secular dothel characters would mutually fortify each other, would be just surest pledge of earthly obedience. The sanctity of the royal office might indeed be degraded by the personal vices of the man, but the scandals of the tenth century were obliterated by the austere and more dangerous virtues of Gregory VII and his successors, and in the ambitious contests which they maintained for the rights of the church, their sufferings or their success must equally tend to increase the popular veneration. They sometimes wandered in poverty and exile, the victims of persecution, and the apostolic zeal which they offered themselves to martyrdom must engage the favor and sympathy of every Catholic breast. And sometimes, sundering from the Vatican, they created, judged and deposed the kings of the world, nor could the proudest Roman be disgraced by submitting to a priest whose feet were kissed and whose stirrup was held by the successors of Charlemagne. Even the temporal interest of the city should have protected in peace and honor the residents of the popes, from whence a wane and lazy people derived the greatest part of their subsistence and riches. The fixed revenue of the popes was probably impaired. Many of the old patrimonial estates, both in Italy and the provinces, had been invaded by sacrilegious hands, nor could the loss be compensated by the claim, rather than the possession of the more ample gifts of Pepin and his descendants. But the Vatican and capitol were nourished by the incessant and increasing swarms of pilgrims and supplyants. The pale of Christianity was enlarged, and the Pope and Cardinals were overwhelmed by the judgment of ecclesiastical and secular causes. A new jurisprudence had established in the Latin Church the right and practice of appeals, and from the north and west the bishops and abbots were invited or summoned to solicit, to complain, to accuse or to justify before the threshold of the apostles. Our air prodigy is once recorded. The two horses belonging to the archbishops of Mence and Cologne, repass the Alps, yet laden with gold and silver. But it was soon understood that the success, both of the pilgrims and clients, depended much less on the justice of their cause than on the value of their offering. The wealth and piety of these strangers were ostentatiously displayed, and their expenses, sacred or profane, circulated in various channels from the emolument of the Romans. Such powerful motives should have firmly attached the voluntary and pious obedience of the Roman people to their spiritual and temporal father. But the operation of prejudice and interest is often disturbed by the sallies of ungovernable passion. The Indian who fails the tree that he may gather the fruit, and the Arab who plunders the caravans of commerce, are actuated by the same impulse of savage nature, which overlooks the future in the present, and relinquishes for momentary repine the long and secure possession of the most important blessings. And it was thus that the Shrine of St. Peter was profaned by the thoughtless Romans, who pillaged the offerings and voodooed the pilgrims without computing the number and value of similar visits, which they prevented by their inhospitable sacrilege. Even the influence of superstition is fluctuating and precarious, and the slave whose reason is subdued will often be delivered by his avarice or pride. A credulous devotion for the fables and oracles of the priesthood most powerful acts on the mind of a barbarian. Yet such a mind is the least capable of preferring imagination to sense, or sacrificing to a distant motive, to an invisible perhaps an ideal, object, the appetite and interest of the present world. In the vicar of health and youth, his practice will perpetually contradict his belief, till the pressure of age or sickness or calamity awakens his terrors and compels him to satisfy the double depth of pity and remorse. I have already observed that the modern types of religious indifference are the most favorable to the peace and security of the clergy. And as the reign of superstition, they had much to hope from the ignorance and much to fear from the violence of mankind. The wealth whose constant increase must have rendered them the sole proprietors of the earth, was alternately bestowed by their repentant father and plundered by their apacious son. Their persons were adored or violated, and the same idol by the hands of the same water race was placed on the altar or trampled in the dust. In the feudal system of Europe arms were the title of distinction and the measure of allegiance. And amidst their tumult, the still voice of law and reason was seldom heard or obeyed. The turbulent Romans disdained the yoke and insulted the impotence of their bishop, nor would his education or character allow him to exercise with decency or effect the power of the sword. The motives of his election and the frailties of his life were exposed to their familiar observation, and proximity must diminish the reverence which his name and his decrees impressed on a barbarous world. This difference was not escaped the notice of our philosophic historian, though the name and authority of the court of Rome were so terrible in the remote countries of Europe, which were sunk in profound ignorance, and were entirely unacquainted with its character and conduct. The Pope was so little revered at home that his inveterate enemies surrounded the gates of Rome itself, and even controlled his government in that city. And the ambassadors, who, from a distant extremity of Europe, carried to him the humble or rather abject submissions of the greatest potentate of the age, found the utmost difficulty to make their way to him, and to throw themselves at his feet. Since the primitive times the wealth of the Pope was exposed to envy, their powers to opposition, and their persons to violence, but the long hostility of the metro and the crown increased the numbers and inflamed the passions of their enemies. The deadly factions of the gulfs and gibbalans, so fatal to Italy, could never be embraced with truth or constancy by the Romans. The subjects and adversaries both as a bishop and emperor, but their support was solicited by both parties, and they alternately displayed in their banners the keys of St. Peter and the German eagle. Gregory VII, who may be adored or detested as the founder of the papal monarchy, was driven from Rome, and died in exile at Salerno. Six and thirty of his successors, till their retreat to Avignon, maintained an unequal contest with the Romans. Their age and dignity were often violated, and the churches and the solemn rites of religion were polluted with sedition and murder. A repetition of such capricious brutality, without connection or design, would be tedious and disgusting, and I shall content myself with some events of the twelfth century, which represent the state of the popes and the city. On Holy Thursday, while Pascal officated before the altar, he was interrupted by the clamors of the multitude, who empirically demanded the confirmation of a favorite magistrate. His silence exasperated their fury, his pious refusal to mingle the affairs of earth and heaven was encountered with menaces and oaths, and he should be the cause and the witness of the public ruin. During the festival of Easter, while the bishop on the clergy barefooted and in procession visited the tombs of the martyrs, they were twice assaulted at the bridge of St. Angelo and before the capital with valleys of stones and darts. The houses of his adherents were leveled with the ground. Pascal escaped with difficulty and danger. He levied an army in the patrimony of St. Peter, and his last days were embittered by suffering and inflicting the calamities of civil war. The scenes that followed the election of his successor Galatius II were still more scandalous to the church and city. Censio of Rangipani, a potent and factious baron, burst into the assembly furious and in arms. The cardinals were stripped, bitten and trampled under food, and he seized without pity or respect the vicar of Christ by the throat. Galatius was dragged by the hair along the ground, buffeted with blows mounded with spores and bound with an iron chain in the house of his brutal tyrant. An insurrection of the people delivered their bishop. Thrival families opposed the violence of the Rangipani and Censio, who sued for pardon, repented of the failure rather than of the guilt of his enterprise. Not many days had elapsed when the pope was again assaulted at the altar. While his friends and enemies were engaged in a bloody contest, he escaped in his sacchar total garments. In this unworthy flight which excited the compassion of the Roman matrons, his attendants were scattered or unhorsed, and in the fields behind the Church of St. Peter, his successor was found alone and half dead with fear and fatigue. Shaking the dust from his feet, the apostle withdrew from a city in which his dignity was insulted and his person was endangered. And the vanity of sacchar total ambition is revealed in the involuntary confession that one emperor was more tolerable than twenty. These examples might suffice, but I cannot forget the sufferings of two pontiffs of the same age, the second and third of the name of Lusius. The former, as he ascended in battle array to assault the capital, was struck on the temple by a stone and expired in a few days. The latter was severely wounded in their person of his servants. In a civil commotion several of his priests had been made prisoners and the inhuman Romans, reserving one as a guide for his brethren, put out their eyes, crowned them with ludicrous mittress, mounted them on asses with their faces towards the tail, and extorted an earth that, in this wretched condition, they should offer themselves as a lesson to the head of the Church. Hope or fear, latitude or remorse, the characters of the men and the circumstances of the times, might sometimes obtain an interval of peace and obedience, and the pope was restored with joyful acclamations to the lateran or Vatican, from whence he had been driven with threats and violence. But the root of mischief was deep and perennial, and the momentary calm was preceded and followed by such tempests as had almost sunk the bark of St. Peter. Rome continually presented the aspect of war and discord. The churches and palaces were fortified and assaulted by the factions and families. And after giving peace to Europe, Calistus II alone had a resolution and power to prohibit the use of private arms in the metropolis. Among the nations who revered the apostolic throne, the Tamots of Rome provoked a general indignation, and in a letter to his disciple Eugionius III, Saint Bernard, with the sharpness of his wit and zeal, had stigmatized devices of the rebellious people. Who is ignorant, says the monk of the war of the vanity and arrogance of the Romans? A nation nursed in sedition and tractable and scorn to obey, unless they are too feeble to resist. When they promised to serve, they aspired to reign. If their swear allegiance, they watched the opportunity of revolt. Yet they went their discontent in loud clamours, if your doors or your councils are shut against them. Dexterous and mischief, they have never learned the science of doing good. Auduous to earth and heaven, impious to God, seditious amongst themselves, jealous of their neighbors, in human to strangers, they love no one. By no one are they beloved. And while they wish to inspire fear, they live in base and continue apprehension. They will not submit, they know not how to govern faceless to their superiors, intolerable to their equals, ungrateful to their benefactors, and alike impudent in their demands and their refusals. Lofty in promise, poor in execution, adulation and calamity, perfidy and treason are the familiar arts of their policy. Surely this dark portrait is not colored by the pencil of Christian charity. Yet the features, however harsh or ugly, express a lively resemblance of the Roman of the 12th century. The Jews had rejected the Christ when he appeared amongst them in a plebeian character, and the Romans might plead their ignorance of his vicar when he assumed the pomp and pride of a temporal sovereign. In the busy age of the Crusades, some sparks of curiosity and reason were kindled in the Western world. The heresy of Bulgaria, the Paulician sect, were successful transplanted into the soil of Italy and France. The agnostic visions were mingled with the simplicity of the Gospel, and the enemies of the clergy reconciled their passions with their conscience, the desire of freedom with the profession of piety. The trumpet of Roman liberty was first sounded by Arnaud of Brescia, whose promotion in the church was confined to the lowest rank, and who wore the monastic habit rather as a garb of poverty than as a uniform of obedience. His adversaries could not deny the wit and eloquence which they severely felt. They confessed with reluctance the spacious purity of his morals, and his errors were recommended to the public by a mixture of important and beneficial truths. In his theological studies he had been the disciple of the famous and unfortunate Abelard, who was likewise involved in the suspicion of heresy, but the lover of Eloisa was of a soft and flexible nature, and his ecclesiastical judges were edified and disarmed by the humility of his repentance. Arnaud most probably invited some metaphysical definitions of the trinity, repugnant to the taste of the times. His ideas of baptism and the Eucharist are loosely censored, but a political heresy was the source of his fame and misfortunes. He presumed to quote the declarations of Christ, that his kingdom is not of this world. He boldly maintained that the sword and the scepter were entrusted to the civil magistrate, that temporal honors and possessions were lawfully vested in the plural persons, that the abbots, the bishops and the pope himself must renounce either their state or their salvation, and that after the loss of their revenues, the voluntary tithes and oblations of the faithful would suffice, not indeed for luxury and avarice, but for a frugial life in the exercise of spiritual labours. During a short time the preacher was revered as a patriot, and the discontent or revolt of Brestia against her bishop was the first fruits of his dangerous lessons. But the favor of the people is less permanent than the resentment of the priest, and after the heresy of Arnaud had been condemned by Innocent II, in the general council of the Lateran, the magistrates themselves were urged by prejudice and fear to execute the sentence of the church. Italy could no longer afford a refuge, and the disciple of Abilord escaped beyond the Alps, till he found a safe and hospitable shelter in Tzirih, now the first of the Swiss cantons. From a Roman station, a Royal Villa, a chapter of noble virgins, Tzirih had gradually increased to a free and flourishing city, where the appeals of the Milanese were sometimes tried by the imperial commissaries. In an ageless ripe for reformation, the precursor of Tsvinglius was heard with applause. A brave and simple people imbibed and long retained the color of his opinions, and his art or merit seduced the bishop of Constance, and even the Pope's legate, who forgot for his sake the interest of their master and their order. Their tardy zeal was quickened by the fierce exhortations of St. Bernard, and the enemy of the church was driven by persecution to desperate measures of erecting his standard in Rome itself, in the face of the successor of St. Peter. THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE VOLUME 6 by Edward Gibbon Chapter 69, PART 2 Yet the courage of Arnold was not devoid of discretion. He was protected, and had perhaps been invited by the nobles and people, and in the service of freedom his eloquence standard over the seven hills. Blending in the same discourse the texts of Levy and St. Paul, uniting the motives of Gospel and of Classic, enthusiasm, he admonished the Romans, how strangely their patience and the vices of the clergy had degenerated from the primitive times of the church and the city. He exhorted them to assert the inalienable rights of men and Christians, to restore the laws and magistrates of the Republic, to respect the name of the Emperor, but to confine their shepherd to the spiritual government of his flock. Nor could his spiritual government escape the center and control of the Reformer, and the inferior clergy were taught by his lessons to resist the Cardinals, who had usurped a despotic command over the twenty-eight regions or parishes of Rome. The revolution was not accomplished without raping and violence. The diffusion of blood and the demolition of houses, the victorious faction was enriched with the spoils of the clergy and the adverse nobles. Arnold of Brestia enjoyed, or deplored, the effects of his mission. His reign continued above ten years, while two popes innocent the second, and Anastasios the fourth, either trembled into Vatican, or wandered as exiles in the adjacent cities. They were succeeded by a more vigorous and fortunate pontiff, Adrian the Fourth, the only Englishman who has ascended the throne of St. Peter, and whose merit emerged from the mean condition of a monk, and almost a beggar, in the monastery of St. Albans. On the first provocation of a Cardinal killed or wounded in the streets, he cast an interdict on the guilty people, and from Christmas to Easter Rome was deprived of the real or imaginary comforts of religious worship. The Romans had despised their temporal prints. They submitted with grief and terror to the censors of their spiritual father. Their guilt was expiated by penance, and the banishment of the seditious preacher was the price of their absolution. But the revenge of Adrian was yet unsatisfied, and the approaching coronation of Frederick Barbarossa was fed out to the bold reformer who had offended, though not in an equal degree, the heads of the church and state. In their interview at Viterbo, the Pope represented to the emperor the furious, ungovernable spirit of the Romans, the insults, the injuries, the fears to which his person and his clergy were continually exposed, and the pernicious tendency of the heresy of Arnold, which must subvert the principles of civil, as well as a classistical subordination. Frederick was convinced by these arguments, or tempted by the desire of the imperial crown, in the balance of ambition, the innocence of our life of an individual is of small account, and their common enemy was sacrificed to a moment of political concord. After his retreat from Rome, Arnold had been protected by the viscounts of Campania, from whom he was extorted by the power of Caesar. The prefect of the city pronounced his sentence, the martyr of freedom was burned alive in the presence of a careless and ungrateful people, and his ashes were cast into the tiber, lest the heretics should collect and worship the relics of their master. The clergy triumphed in his death, with his ashes his sect was dispersed, his memories still lived in the minds of the Romans. From his school they had probably derived a new article of faith, that the metropolis of the Catholic Church is exempt from the penalties of excommunication and interdict. Their bishops might argue that the supreme jurisdiction, which they exercised over kings and nations, more especially embraced the city and deities of the Prince of the Apostles. But they reached to the winds and the same principles that weakened the effect must temper the abuse of the thunders of the Vatican. The love of ancient freedom has encouraged, I believe, that as early as the 10th century, in their first struggles against the Saxon Autos, the common wealth was vindicated and restored by the Senate and people of Rome. The two consuls were annually elected among the nobles, and that ten or twelve plebeian magistrates revived the name and office of the tribunes of the commons. But this vulnerable structure disappears before the light of criticism. In the darkness of the Middle Ages, the appellations of senators, of consuls, of the sons of consuls, may sometimes be discovered. They were bestowed by the emperors or assumed by the most powerful citizens to denote their rank their owners, and perhaps the claim of a pure and patrician descent. But they float on the surface, without a series or a substance. The titles of men, not the orders of government. And it is only from the year of Christ 1144 that the establishment of the Senate is dated, as a glorious era in the acts of the city. A new constitution was hastily framed by private ambition or popular enthusiasm. Nor could Rome, in the 12th century, produce an antiquary to explain, or a legislator to restore, the harmony and proportions of the ancient model. The assembly of a free, of unarmed people will ever speak in loud and weighty acclamations. But the regular distribution of the fifty-five tribes, the nice balance of the wealth and numbers of the centuries, the debits of the adverse orators, and the slow operations of votes and ballots could not easily be adapted by a blind multitude, ignorant of the arts, and insensible of the benefits of legal government. It was proposed by Arnold to revive and discriminate the equestrian order. But what could be the motive or measure of such distinction? The pecuniary qualification of the knights must have been reduced to the poverty of the times. Those times no longer required their civil functions of judges and farmers of the revenue. And their primitive duty, their military service on horseback, was more nobly supplied by feudal tenors and the spirit of chivalry. The jurisprudence of the Republic was useless and unknown. The nations and families of Italy, who lived under the Roman and barbaric laws, were insensibly mingled in a common mess. And some faint tradition, some imperfect fragments, preserved the memory of the Code and pandex of Justinian. With their liberties, the Romans might doubtless have restored the appellation and office of consuls. Had they not disdained a title so promiscuously adopted in the Italian cities, that it has finally settled on the humble station of the agents of commerce in a foreign land. But the rites of the tribunes, the formidable word that arrested the public consuls, suppose or must produce a legitimate democracy. The old patricians were the subjects, the modern barons, the tyrants of the state. Nor would the enemies of peace and order, who insulted the vicar of Christ, have long respected the unarmed sanctity of a plebeian magistrate. In the revolution of the 12th century, which gave a new existence an era to Rome, we may observe the real and important events that marked or confirmed her political independence. First, the Capitolian hill, one of her seven eminences, is about 400 yards in length and 200 in breadth. A flight of 100 steps led to the summit of the Tarpean Rock, and far steeper was the ascent before the declivities had been smoothed and the precipices spilled by the ruins of fallen edipuses. From the earliest ages, the capital had been used as a temple in peace, a fortress in war. After the loss of the city, it maintained a siege against the victorious Gauls, and the sanctuary of the empire was occupied, assaulted and burned in the civil wars of Vitellus and Vespasian. The temples of Jupiter and his kindred deities had crumbled into dust. Their place was supplied by monasteries and houses, and the solid walls, the long and shelving porticles were decayed or ruined by the lapse of time. It was the first act of the Romans, an act of freedom to restore the strength, though not the beauty of the capital, to fortify the seat of their arms and councils, and as often as they ascended the hill, the coldest minds must have glowed with the remembrance of their ancestors. Second, the first Caesar's had been invested with the exclusive coinage of the gold and silver, to the senate they abandoned the baser metal of bronze or copper. The emblems and legions were inscribed on a more ample field by the genius of flattery, and the prince was relieved from the care of celebrating his own virtues. The successors of Diocletian, despised even the flattery of the senate, their royal officers at Rome and in the provinces assumed the sole direction of the mint, and the same prerogative was inherited by the Gothic kings of Italy, and the long series of the Greek, the French, and the German dynasties. After an abdication of 800 years, the Roman senate asserted this honorable and lucrative privilege, which was tacitly renounced by the popes, from Pascal II to the establishment of the residence beyond the Alps. Some of these republican coins of the 12th and 13th centuries are shown in the cabinets of the Curious. On one of these, a gold medal, Christ is depicted holding in his left hand a book with this inscription, The Wove of the Roman Senate and People, Rome the Capital of the World. On the reverse, Saint Peter delivering a banner to annealing senator in his cap and gown, with the name and arms of his family impressed on a shield. Third, with the empire, the prefect of the city had declined to a municipal officer, yet he still exercised in the last appeal the civil and criminal jurisdiction. Under drone sword, which he received from the successors of author, was the mode of his infestitor and the emblem of his functions. The dignity was confined to the noble families of Rome. The choice of the people was ratified by the Pope, but the triple oaths of fidelity must have often embarrassed the prefect in the conflict of adverse duties. A servant in whom they possessed but a third share was dismissed by the independent Romans. In his place, they elected a patrician, but this title, which Charlemagne had not disdained, was too lofty for a citizen or a subject. And after the first fervor or rebellion, they consented without reluctance to the restoration of the prefect. About 50 years after this event, in a sense, the third, the most ambitious or at least the most fortunate of the Pontiffs, delivered the Romans and himself from this badge of foreign dominion. He invested the prefect with a banner instead of a sword, and absolved him from all dependence of oaths or service to the German emperors. In his place, an ecclesiastical, a present or future cardinal was named by the Pope to the civil government of Rome. But his jurisdiction has been reduced to a narrow compass. And in the days of freedom, the right or exercise was derived from the Senate and people. For, after the revival of the Senate, the conscript fathers, if I may use the expression, were invested with the legislative and executive power. But their views seldom reached beyond the present day, and that day was most frequently disturbed by violence and tumult. In its utmost plentitude, the order or assembly consisted of 56 senators, the most eminent of whom were distinguished by the title of consulers. They were nominated, perhaps annually, by the people, and a previous choice of their electors, 10 persons in each region or parish, might afford a basis for a free and permanent constitution. The Pope, who in this tempest submitted rather to bend than to break, confirmed by treaty the establishment and privileges of the Senate, and expected from time, peace and religion, the restoration of their government. The motives of public and private interest might sometimes draw from the Romans an occasional and temporary sacrifice of their claims, and their renews or oaths of allegiance to the successor of Saint Peter and Constantine, the lawful head of the Church and the Republic. The union and vigor of a public consul was dissolved in the lawless city, and the Romans soon adopted a more strong and simple mode of administration. They condensed the name and authority of the Senate in a single magistrate or two colleagues, and as they were changed at the end of a year, or of six months, the greatness of the trust was compensated by the shortness of the term. But in this transient reign, the senators of Rome indulged their everest and ambition. Their justice was perverted by the interest of their family and faction, and as they punished only their enemies, they were obeyed only by their adherents. Honor he, no longer tempered by the pastoral care of their bishop, admonished the Romans that they were incapable of governing themselves, and they sought abroad those blessings which they were hopeless of finding at home. In the same age and from the same motives, most of the Italian republics were prompted to embrace a measure, which, however strange it may seem, was adapted to their situation and productive of the most solitary effects. They choose in some foreign but friendly city an impartial magistrate of noble birth and unblemished character, a soldier and a statesman recommended by the voice of fame and his country, to whom they delegated for a time the supreme administration of peace and war. The combat between the governor and the governed was sealed with oaths and subscriptions, and the duration of his power, the measure of his stipend, the nature of their mutual obligations, were defined with scrupulous precision. They swore to obey him as their lawful superior. He pledged his faith to unite the indifference of a stranger with the zeal of a patriot. At his choice, four or six knights and civilians, his assessors in arms and justice attended the Podesta, who maintained at his own expense a decent retinue of servants and horses, his wife, his son, his brother, who might be as the affections of the judge, were left behind, during the exercise of his office he was not permitted to purchase land, to contract an alliance, or even to accept an invitation in the house of a citizen, nor could he honorably depart till he had satisfied the complaints that might be urged against his government. End of Chapter 69 Part 3 of the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Volume 6. This is the LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Christine. The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Volume 6 by Edward Gibbon, Chapter 69. Part 3. It was thus about the middle of the 13th century that the Romans called from Bologna the senator Brancia Leone, whose fame and merit have been rescued from oblivion by the pen of an English historian. Adjust anxiety for his reputation, a clear foresight of the difficulties of the task, had engaged him to refuse the honor of their choice. The statutes of Rome were suspended, and his office prolonged to the term of three years. By the guilty and licentious he was accused as cruel, by the clergy he was suspected as partial, but the Friends of Peace and Order applauded the firm and upright magistrate by whom those blessings were restored. No criminals were so powerful as to brave, so obscure as to elude the justice of the senator. By his sentence, two nobles of the Annibaldi family were executed on a gibbet, and he inexorably demolished, in the city and neighborhood, one hundred and forty towers, the strong shelters of Wrapping and Mischief. The bishop, as a simple bishop, was compelled to reside in his diocese, and the standard of Brancia Leone was displayed in the field with terror and effect. His services were repaid by the ingratitude of the people unworthy of the happiness which they enjoyed. By the public robbers, whom he had provoked for their sake, the Romans were excited to depose and imprison their benefactor. Nor would his life have been spared if Bologna had not possessed a pledge for his safety. Before his departure, the prudent senator had required the exchange of 30 hostages of the noblest families of Rome. On the news of his danger and at the prayer of his wife, they were more strictly guarded, and Bologna, in the cause of honor, sustained the thunders of a papal interdict. This generous resistance allowed the Romans to compare the present with the past, and Brancia Leone was conducted from the prison to the capital, amidst the acclamations of our repentant people. The reminder of his government was firm and fortunate, and as soon as Envy was appeased by death, his head, enclosed in a precious vase, was deposited on a lofty column of marble. The importance of reason and virtue recommended in Italy a more effectual choice. Instead of a private citizen, to whom they yielded a voluntary and precarious obedience, the Romans elected for their senator some prince of independent power who could defend them from their enemies and themselves. Charles of Anjou and Provence, the most ambitious and warlike monarch of the age, accepted at the same time the kingdom of Naples from the Pope and the office of senator from the Roman people. As he passed through the city, in his road to victory, he received their oath of allegiance, lodged in the letter and palace, and smoothed in a short visit the harsh features of his despotic character. Yet even Charles was exposed to the inconstancy of the people who saluted with the same acclamations, the passage of his rival, the unfortunate Conradine, and a powerful Avenger who reigned in the capital alarmed the fierce and jealousy of the perps. The absolute term of his life was the preceded by renewal every third year, and the enmity of Nicholas III obliged the Sicilian king to abdicate the government of Rome. In his bill, a perpetual law, the imperious pontiff asserts the truth, validity, and use of the donation of Constantine, not less essential to the peace of the city than to the independence of the church, establishes the annual election of the senator and formally disqualifies all emperors, kings, princes and persons of an eminent and conspicuous rank. This prohibitory clause was repealed in his own behalf by Martin the Fourth, who humbly solicited the suffrage of the Romans. In the presence and by the authority of the people, two electors conferred, not on the pope, but on the noble and faithful Martin, the dignity of senator, and the supreme administration of the republic, to hold during his natural life, and to exercise a pleasure by himself or his deputies. About 50 years afterwards, the same title was granted to the emperor Levis of Bavaria, and the liberty of Rome was acknowledged by her two sovereigns, who accepted a municipal office in the government of their own metropolis. In the first moments of rebellion, when Arnaud of Brestia had inflamed their minds against the church, the Romans artfully labored to conciliate the favor of the empire and to recommend their merit and services in the cause of Caesar. The style of their ambassadors to conjure the Third and Frederick the First is a mixture of lattery and pride, the tradition and the ignorance of their own history. After some complaint of his silence and neglect, they exhort the former of these princes to pass the Alps and assume from their hands the imperial crown. We beseech your majesty not to disdain the humility of your sons and vessels, not to listen to other accusations of our common enemies, who column needs the senate as hostile to your throne, who sow the seeds of discord that they may reap the harvest of destruction. The pope and the Sicilian are united in an impious league to oppose our liberty in your coronation. With the blessing of God, our zeal and courage has hitherto defeated their attempts. Of their powerful infectious adherents, more especially the Frangipani, they have taken by assault the houses and turrets. Some of these are occupied by our troops, and some are levelled with the ground. The Milvian bridge, which they had broken, is restored and fortified for your safe passage, and your army may enter the city without being annoyed from the castle of St. Angelo. All that we have done, and all that we design, is for your honor and service in the loyal hope that you will speedily appear in person to vindicate these rites which have been invaded by the clergy, to revive the dignity of the empire, and to surpass the fame and glory of your predecessors. May you fix your residence in Rome, the capital of the world, give laws to Italy and the titanic kingdom, and imitate the example of Constantine and Justinian, who by the weaker of the senate and people, obtained the scepter of the earth. But these splendid and fallacious wishes were not cherished by Conrad the Franconian, whose eyes were fixed on the holy land, and who died without visiting Rome soon after his return from the holy land. His nephew and successor, Frederick Barbarossa, was more ambitious of the imperial crown, nor had any of the successors of Otho acquired such absolute sway over the kingdom of Italy. Surrounded by his ecclesiastical and secular princes, he gave audience in his camp at Sutri to the ambassadors of Rome, who thus addressed him in a free and florid oration. Incline your ear to the queen of cities. Approach with a peaceful and friendly mind the precincts of Rome, which has cast away the yoke of the clergy, and is impatient to crown her legitimate emperor. Under your auspicious influence may the primitive times be restored. Assert the prerogatives of the eternal city, and reduce under her monarchy the insolence of the world. You're not ignorant that in a former age, by the wisdom of the senate, by the valor and discipline of the equestrian order, she extended her victorious arms to the east and west, beyond the Alps, and over the islands of the ocean. By our sins in the absence of our princes, the noble institution of the senate has sunk in oblivion, and with our prudence our strength has likewise decreased. We have revived the senate and the equestrian order, the councils of the one, the arms of the other will be devoted to your person and the service of the empire. Do you not hear the language of the Roman matron? You are guessed. I have adopted you as a citizen, a Transalpine stranger. I have elected you for my sovereign, and given you myself and all that is mine. Your first and most sacred duty is to sphere and subscribe, that you will shed your blood for the republic, that you will maintain in peace and justice the laws of the city, and the charters of your predecessors, and that you will reward with five thousand pounds of silver the faithful senators who shall proclaim your titles in the capital. With the name, assume the character of Augustus. The flowers of Latin rhetoric were not yet exhausted, but Frederick, impatient of their vanity, interrupted the orators in the high tone of royalty and conquest. Famous indeed have been the fortitude and wisdom of the ancient Romans. But your speech is not seasoned with wisdom, and I could wish that fortitude were conspicuous in your actions. Like all subliminary things, Rome has felt the vicicitudes of time and fortune. Your noblest families were translated to the east, to the royal city of Constantine, and the remains of your strengths and freedom have long since been exhausted by the Greeks and Franks. Are you desirous of beholding the ancient glory of Rome, the gravity of the senate, the spirit of the knights, the discipline of the camp, the valor of the legions? You will find them in the German Republic. It is not empire naked and alone. The ornaments and virtues of empire have likewise migrated beyond the Alps to a more deserving people. They will be employed in your defense, but they claim your obedience. You pretend that myself or my predecessors have been invited by the Romans. You mistake the word. They were not invited. They were implored. From its foreign and domestic tyrants, the city was rescued by Charlemagne and Otho, whose ashes repose in our country, and their dominion was the price of your deliverance. And does that dominion your ancestors lived and died? I claim by the right of inheritance and possession. And who shall dare to extort you from my hands? Is the hand of the Franks and Germans and feebled by age? Am I vanguished? Am I a captive? Am I not encompassed with the banners of a potent and invincible army? You impose conditions on your master. You require oath. If the conditions are just, an oath is superfluous. If unjust, it is criminal. Can you doubt my equity? It is extended to the meanest of my subjects. Will not my sword be ensheased in the defense of the capital? By that sword, the northern kingdom of Denmark has been restored to the Roman Empire. You prescribe the measure and the object of my bounty, which flows in a copious but a voluntary stream. All will be given to patient merit. All will be denied to rude importunity. Neither the Emperor nor the Senate could maintain these lofty pretensions of dominion and liberty. United with the Pope and suspicious of the Romans, Frederick continued his march to the Vatican. His coronation was disturbed by a celli from the capital. And if the numbers and valor of the Germans prevailed in the bloody conflict, he could not safely encamp in the presence of a city of which he stout himself the sovereign. About 12 years afterwards he besieged Rome to seat an antipope in the cheer of St. Peter, and 12 Pisan galleys were introduced into the table. But the Senate and people were saved by the arts of negotiation and the progress of disease. Nor did Frederick or his successors reiterate the hostile attempt. Their laborious reigns were exercised by the Popes, the Crusades, and the independence of Lombardy in Germany. They courted the alliance of the Romans. And Frederick II offered in the capital the great standard, the Caraccio of Milan. After the extinction of the House of Swapia, they were banished beyond the Alps. And their last coronations betrayed the impotence and poverty of the Teutonic Caesars. Under the reign of Adrian, when the empire extended from the Oethrates to the ocean, from Mount Atlas to the Grampian Hills, a fanciful historian amused the Romans with the picture of their ancient wars. There was a time, says Florus, when Thibour and Praeneste, our summer retreats, were the objects of hostile woes in the capital, when we dreaded the shades of the Aresian growth, when we could triumph without a blush over the nameless villages of the Sabines and Latins, and even Coriolis could afford a title not unworthy of a victorious general. The pride of his contemporaries was gratified by the contrast of the past and the present. They would have been humbled by the prospect of futurity, by the prediction that after a thousand years Rome, despoiled of empire and contracted to her primal limits, would renew the same hostilities, on the same ground which was then decorated with her villas and gardens. The adjacent territory on either side of the Thibour was always claimed, and sometimes possessed, as the patrimony of St. Peter. But the barons assumed a lawless independence, and the cities, too, faithfully copied the revolt and discord of the Metropolis. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the Romans incessantly labored to reduce or destroy the contumatious vessels of the church and senate, and if their headstrong and selfish ambition was moderated by the Pope, he often encouraged their zeal by the alliance of his spiritual arms. Their warfare was that of the first councils and dictators who were taken from the plough. They assembled in arms at the foot of the capital, salied from the gates, plundered or burned the harvest of their neighbors, engaged into a military conflict, and returned home after an expedition of fifteen or twenty days. Their sieges were tedious and unskillful. In the use of victory, they indulged the meaner passions of jealously and revenge, and instead of adopting the valor, they trampled on the misfortunes of their adversaries. The captives in their shirts, with a rope around their necks, solicited their pardon. The fortifications and even the buildings of the rival cities were demolished, and the inhabitants were scattered in the adjacent villages. It was thus that the seats of the cardinal bishops, Porto, Ostia, Albanum, Tusculum, Praeneste, Antibur, or Tivoli, were successively overthrown by the ferocious hostility of the Romans. Of these, Porto and Ostia, the two keys of the Tiber, are still vacant and desolate. The marshy and unforeseen banks are peopled with herds of buffaloes, and the river is lost to every purpose of navigation and trade. The hills, which afford a shady retirement from the autumnal heats, have again smiled with the blessings of peace. Frescati has arisen near the ruins of Tusculum, Tibur or Tivoli, has resumed the owners of a city, and the minor towns of Albano and Palestrina are decorated with the villas of the cardinals and princes of Rome. In the work of destruction, the ambition of the Romans was often checked and repulsed by the neighboring cities and their allies. In the first siege of Tiber, they were driven from their camp, and the battles of Tusculum and Viterbo might be compared in their relative state to the memorable fields of Trassimene and Cannae. In the first of these, petty wars, 30,000 Romans were overthrown by a thousand German horse, whom Frederick Barbarossa had detached to the relief of Tusculum. And if we number the slain at three, the prisoners at two thousand, we shall embrace the most authentic and moderate account. Sixty-eight years afterwards, they marched against Viterbo in the ecclesiastical state, with the whole force of the city. By a rear coalition, the Toytonic Eagle was blended in the adverse banners, with the keys of St. Peter, and the Pope's auxiliaries were commanded by account of Toulouse and the Bishop of Winchester. The Romans were disconvited with shame and slaughter, but the English prelate must have indulged the vanity of a pilgrim if he multiplied their numbers to 100 and their loss in the field to 30,000 men. Had the policy of the Senate and the discipline of the legions been restored with the capital, the divided condition of Italy would have offered the fairest opportunity of a second conquest. But in arms, the modern Romans were not above, and in arts, they were far below the common level of the neighboring republics. Nor was their warlike spirit of any long continuance. After some irregular salleys, they subsided in the national apathy, in the neglect of military institutions, and in the disgraceful and dangerous use of foreign mercenaries. Ambition is a weed of quick and early vegetation in the vineyard of Christ. Under the first Christian princes, the chair of St. Peter was disputed by the votes, the venility, the violence of a popular election. The sanctuaries of Rome were polluted with blood, and from the third to the twelfth century, the church was distracted by the mischief of frequency. As long as the final appeal was determined by the civil magistrate, these mischiefs were transient and local. The merits were tried by equity or favor, nor could the unsuccessful competitor long disturb the triumph of his rival. But after the emperors had been devastated of their prerogatives, after a maxim had been established that the vicar of Christ is amenable to no earthly tribunal, each vacancy of the holy seat might involve Christendom in controversy and war. The claims of the cardinals and inferior clergy of the nobles and people were vague and litigious. The freedom of choice was overruled by the termites of a city that no longer owned or obeyed a superior. On the disease of a pope, two factions proceeded in different churches to a double election. The number and weight of votes, the priority of time, the merit of the candidates might balance each other, the most respectable of the clergy were divided, and the distant princes who bowed before the spiritual throne could not distinguish the spurious from the legitimate idol. The emperors were often the authors of the schism, from the political motive of opposing a friendly to a hostile pontiff, and each of the competitors was reduced to suffer the insults of his enemies, who were not abed by conscience, and to purchase the support of his adherents, who were instigated by avarice or ambition, a peaceful and perpetual succession was ascertained by Alexander III, who finally abolished the tumultary votes of the clergy and people and defined the right of election in the sole college of cardinals. The three orders of bishops, priests, and deacons were assimilated to each other by this important privilege. The parochial clergy of Rome obtained the first rank in the hierarchy. They were indifferently chosen among the nations of Christendom, and the possession of the richest benefits of the most important bishoprics was not incompatible with their title and office. The senators of the Catholic Church, the co-editors and legates of the supreme pontiff, were robed in purple, the symbol of martyrdom or royalty. They claimed a proud equality with kings, and their dignity was enhanced by the smallest of their number, which, to the reign of Leo X, seldom exceeded twenty or twenty-five persons. By this wise regulation all doubt and scandal were removed, and the root of schism was so effectually destroyed that in the period of six hundred years a double choice has only once divided the unity of the sacred college. But as the concurrence of two-thirds of the votes had been made necessary, the election was often delayed by the private interest and passions of the cardinals. And while they prolonged their independent reign, the Christian world was left destitute of ahead. A vacancy of almost three years had preceded the elevation of George the Tenths, who resolved to prevent the future abuse, and his bull, after some opposition, has been consecrated in the Code of the Canon Law. Nine days are allowed for the obsequies of the deceased pope and the arrival of the absent cardinals. On the tenths, they are imprisoned, each with one domestic, in a common apartment or conclave, without any separation of walls or curtains. A small window is reserved for the introduction of necessaries. But the door is locked on both sides and guarded by the magistrates of the city, to seclude them from all correspondence with the world. If the election be not consummated in three days, the luxury of their table is contracted to a single dish at dinner and supper, and after the eighth day they are reduced to a scanty aloans of bread, water, and wine. During the vacancy of the holy seat, the cardinals are prohibited from touching the revenues, or, assuming, unless in some rare emergency, gets the government of the church. All agreements and promises among the electors are formally annulled, and their integrity is fortified by their solemn oath and the prayers of the Catholics. Some articles of inconvenient or superfluous rigor have been gradually relaxed, but the principle of covenant finement is vigorous and entire. They are still urged by the personal motives of health and freedom to accelerate the moment of their deliverance, and the improvement of ballot or secret votes has wrapped the struggles of the conclab in the silky veil of charity and politeness. By these institutions the Romans were excluded from the election of their prince and bishop, and in the fear of wild and precarious liberty they seemed insensible of the loss of this inestimable privilege. The Emperor Louis of Bavaria revived the example of his great author. After some negotiation with the magistrates, the Roman people were assembled in the square before St. Peter's. The Pope of Avignon, John XXII, was deposed. The choice of his successor was ratified by their consent and applause. They freely voted for a new law that their bishop should never be absent more than three months in the year, and two days' journey from the city. And that if he neglected to return on the third summons, the public servant should be degraded and dismissed. But Louis forgot his own debility and the prejudices of the time. Beyond the precincts of a German camp, his useless phantom was rejected. The Romans despised their own workmanship. The Antipope implored the mercy of his lawful sovereign, and the exclusive right of the Cardinals was more firmly established by this unseasonable attack. Had the election been always held in the Vatican, the rights of the Senate and people would not have been violated with impunity. But the Romans forgot, and were forgotten, in the absence of the successors of Gregory VII, who did not keep as a divine precept their ordinary residence in the city and diocese. The care of their diocese was less important than the government of the Universal Church, nor could the Pope delight in a city in which their authority was always opposed, and their person was often endangered. From the persecution of the emperors and the wars of Italy, they escaped beyond the Alps into the hospitable bosom of France. From the tumult of Rome, they prudently withdrew to live and die in the more tranquil stations of Anagni, Perugia, Viterbo, and the adjacent cities. When the flock was offended or impoverished by the absence of the shepherd, they were recalled by a stern admonition that St. Peter had fixed his chair, not in an obscure village, but in the capital of the world, by a ferocious menace, that the Romans would march in arms to destroy the place and people that should dare to afford them a retreat. They returned with timorous obedience, and were saluted with the account of a heavy debt of all the losses which their desertion had occasioned, the hire of lodgings, the sale of provisions, and the various expenses of servants and strangers who attended the court. After a short interval of peace, and perhaps of authority, they were again banished by new tumults, and again summoned by the imperious or respectful invitation of the Senate. In these occasional retreats, the exiles and fugitives of the Vatican were seldom long or far distant from the Metropolis, but in the beginning of the 14th century, the apostolic throne was transported, as it might seem forever, from the Tiber to the Rhone, and the cause of the transmigration may be deduced from the furious contest between Boniface the Eighth and the King of France. The spiritual arms of excommunication and interdict were repulsed by the Union of the Three Estates, and the privileges of the Gallican Church, but the Pope was not prepared against the Cardinal weapons which Philip's affair had courage to employ. As the Pope resided at Anagni, without the suspicion of danger, his palace and person were assaulted by three hundred horse, who had been secretly levied by a William of Nogaret, a French minister, and Scarra Colonna of a noble but hostile family of Rome. The Cardinals fled, the inhabitants of Anagni were seduced from their allegiance and gratitude, but the Dauntless Boniface, an armed and alone, seated himself in his chair and awaited, like the conscript fathers of old, the sorts of the Gauls. Nogaret, a foreign adversary, was content to execute the orders of his master. By the domestic enmity of Colonna he was insulted with warts and blows, and during a confinement of three days his life was threatened by the hardships which they inflicted on the obscenity which they provoked. Their strange delay gave time and courage to the adherents of the church, who rescued him from sacrilegious violence, but his imperious soul was wounded in the vital part, and Boniface expired at Rome in a frenzy of rage and revenge. His memory is stained with the glaring vices of avarice and pride, nor has the courage of Martyr promoted this ecclesiastical champion to the owners of a saint. A magnanimous sinner, say the chronicles of the times, who entered like a fox, reigned like a lion, and died like a dog. He was succeeded by Benedict the Eleventh, the mildest of mankind, yet he excommunicated the impious emissaries of Philip, and devoted the city and people of Anagni by a tremendous course, whose effects are still visible to the eyes of the superstition. THE HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE Volume 6 by Edward Gibbon, Chapter 69, Part 4 After his decease, the tedious and equal suspense of the conclave was fixed by the dexterity of the French faction. A specialist offer was made and accepted, that in the term of forty days they would elect one of the three candidates who should be named by their opponents. The Archbishop of Bordeaux, a furious enemy of his king and country, was the first on the list, but his ambition was known, and his conscience obeyed the calls of fortune and the commands of a benefactor, who had been informed by a swift messenger that the choice of a pope was now in his hands. The terms were regulated in a private interview, and with such speed and secrecy was their business transacted, that the unanimous conclave applauded the election of Clement V. The cardinals of both parties were soon astonished by a summons to attend him beyond the Alps, from whence, as they soon discovered, they must never hope to return. He was engaged by promise and affection to prefer the residence of France, and after dragging his court through Poitot and Gascony and devouring by his expense the cities and contents on the road, he finally reposed at Avignon, which flourished above seventy years, the seat of the Roman Pontiff and the metropolis of Christendom. By land, by sea, by the Rhône, the position of Avignon was on all sides accessible. The southern provinces of France do not yield to Italy itself. New palaces arose from the accommodation of the pope and cardinals, and the arts of luxury were soon attracted by the treasures of the church. They were already possessed of the adjacent territory, the Venetian county, a populous and fertile spot, and the sovereignty of Avignon was afterwards purchased from the youth and distress of Jane, the first queen of Naples and counties of Provence, for the inadequate price of four scores thousand Florence. Under the shadow of a French monarchy, amidst an obedient people, the popes enjoyed an honorable and tranquil state, to which they long had been strangers. But Italy deplored their absence and Rome, in solitude and poverty, might repent of the ungovernable freedom which had driven from the Vatican the successor of Saint Peter. Her repentance was tardy and fruitless. After the death of the old members, the sacred college was filled with French cardinals, who beheld Rome and Italy with abhorrence and contempt, and perpetuated a series of national and even provincial popes attached by the most indissolable ties to their native country. The progress of industry had produced and enriched the Italian republics. The era of their liberty is the most flourishing period of population and agriculture of manufacturers and commerce, and their mehanic labors were gradually refined into the arts of elegance and genius. But the position of Rome was less favorable, the territory less fruitful, the character of the inhabitants was debased by indolence and elated by pride, and they fondly conceived that the tribute of subjects must forever nourish the metropolis of the church and empire. This prejudice was encouraged, in some degree, by the resort of pilgrims to the shrines of the apostles, and the last legacy of the popes, the institution of the holy year, was not less beneficial to the people than to the clergy. Since the loss of Palestine is a gift of plenary indulgences which had been applied to the crusades, remained without an object, and the most valuable treasure of the church was sequestered above eight years from public circulation. A new channel was opened by the diligence of Boniface VIII, who reconciled the vices of ambition in Everest, and the pope had sufficient learning to recollect and revive the secular games which were celebrated in Rome at the conclusion of every century. To sound without dangers the steps of popular credulity, a sermon was seasonably pronounced, a report was artfully scattered, some aged witnesses were produced, and on the first of January of the year 1300 the Church of St. Peter was crowded with the faithful who demanded the customary indulgence of the holy time. The pontiff, who watched and irritated their devolved impatience, was soon persuaded by ancient testimony of the justice of their claim, and he proclaimed a plenary absolution to all Catholics who, in the course of that year and at every similar period, should respectfully visit the apostolic churches of St. Peter and St. Paul. The welcome sound was propagated through Christendom, and at first from the nearest provinces of Italy, and at length from the remote kingdoms of Hungary and Britain, the highways were strong with the swarm of pilgrims who sought to expiate their sins in a journey, however costly or laborious, which was exempt from the perils of military service. All exceptions of rank or sex of age or infirmity were forgotten in the common transport, and in the streets and churches many persons were trampled to death by the eagerness of devotion. The calculation of their numbers could not be easy nor accurate, and they have probably been magnified by the asterisk clergy while appraised of the contagion of example, yet we are assured by a judicious historian who assisted at the ceremony that Rome was never replenished with less than 200,000 strangers, and another spectator has fixed at two millions the total concourse of the year. A traveling oblation from each individual would accumulate a royal treasure, and two priests to night and day with rags in their hands to collect without counting the heaps of gold and silver that were poured on the altar of St. Paul. It was fortunately a season of peace and plenty, and if forage was scarce if inns and lodgings were extravagantly dear. An exhaustible supply of bread and wine, of meat and fish, was provided by the policy of Boniface and the vanilla hospitality of the Romans. From a city without trade or industry, all casual riches will speedily evaporate, but the ever- and envy of the next generation solicited Glemens's sex to anticipate the distant period of the century. The gracious Pontiff complied with their wishes, afforded Rome this poor consolation for his loss, and justified the change by the name and practice of the Mosaic Jubilee. His summons was obeyed, and the number, zeal, and liberality of the pilgrims did not yield to the primitive festival, but they encountered the triple scourge of war, pestilence, and famine. Many wives and virgins were violated in the castles of Italy, and many strangers were pillaged or murdered by the savage Romans, no longer moderated by the presence of their bishops. To the impatience of the popes, we may ascribe the successive reduction to fifty, thirty-three, and twenty-five years, although the second of these terms is commensurate with the life of Christ. The profusion of indulgences, the revolt of the Protestants, and the decline of superstition have much diminished the value of the Jubilee, yet even the nineteenth and last festival was a year of pleasure and profit to the Romans, and the philosophic smile will not disturb the triumph of the priest or the happiness of the people. In the beginning of the eleventh century, Italy was exposed to the feudal tyranny alike oppressive to the sovereign and to the people. The rights of human nature were vindicated by her numerous republics, who soon extended their liberty and dominion from the city to the adjacent country. The sword of the nobles was broken, their slaves were enfranchised, their castles were demolished, they assumed the habits of society and obedience, their ambition was confined to municipal owners, and in the proudest aristocracy of Venice or Genoa, each patrician was subject to the laws. But the feeble and disorderly government of Rome was unequal to the task of curbing her rebellious sons, who scorned the authority of the magistrate within and without the walls. It was no longer a civil contention between the nobles and plebeians from the government of the state. The barons asserted in arms their personal independence, their palaces and castles were fortified against the siege, and their private quarrels were maintained by the numbers of their wrestlers and retainers. In origin and affection there were aliens to the country, and a genuine Roman could such have been produced, might have renounced these haughty strangers, who disdained the appellation of citizens and proudly stowed themselves the princes of Rome. After a dark series of revolutions, all records of pedigree were lost, the distinction of surnames were abolished, the blood of the nations was mingled with a thousand channels, and the Goths and Lombards, the Greeks and Franks, the Germans and Normans had obtained the fairest possessions by royal bounty or the prerogative of valor. These examples might be readily presumed, but the elevation of a Hebrew race to the rank of senators and consuls is an event without a parallel in the long captivity of these miserable exiles. In the time of Leo IX, a wealthy and learned Jew was converted to Christianity and honored at his baptism by the name of his godfather, the reigning pope. The zeal and carriage of Peter the son of Leo was signalized in the course of Gregory VII, who entrusted his faithful adherent with the government of Adrian Small, the Tower of Crescentius or, as it is now called, the Castle of St. Angelo. Both the father and the son were the parents of a numerous progeny, their riches, the fruits of usury, were shared with the noblest families of the city, and so extensive was their alliance that the grandson of the proselyt was exiled by the weight of his kindred to the throne of St. Peter. A majority of the clergy and people supported his cause. He reigned several years in the Vatican, and it is only the eloquence of St. Benrod and the final triumph of Innocence II that has branded Anacletus with the epithet of Antipope. After his defeat and death, the posterity of Leo is no longer conspicuous, and none will be found of the modern noble's ambitious of descending from a Jewish stock. It is not my design to enumerate the Roman families, which have failed at different periods, are those which are continuing in different degrees of splendor to the present time. The old consular line of the frangipani discovers their name in the generous act of breaking or dividing bread in a time of famine, and such benevolence is more truly glorious than to have enclosed with their allies the corsi, a spacious quarter of the city, in the chains of their fortifications. The Saveli, as it should seem, a Sabine race, have maintained their original dignity. The absolute surname of the Capizuchi is inscribed on the coins of the first senators. The Conti preserved the honor without the estate of the Count of Signia, and the anibaldi must have been very ignorant or very modest if they had not descended from the Carthaginian hero. But among, perhaps above, the peers and princes of the city, are distinguished rival houses of Colonna and Ursini, whose private story is an essential part of the annals of modern Rome. The name and arms of Colonna have been the theme of much doubtful etymology, nor have the orators and antiquarians overlooked either Tragens pillar or the columns of Hercules, or the pillar of Prist flagalation, or the luminous column that guided the Israelites into desert. Their first historical appearance in the year 1104 attests the power and antiquity, while it explains the simple meaning of the name. By the usurpation of Cavae, the Colonna provoked the arms of Pascal II, but they lawfully held in the Campania of Rome the hereditary thieves of Zaga, Rola and Colonna, and the latter of these towns was probably adorned with some lofty pillar, the relic of a villa or temple. They likewise possessed one moiety of the neighboring city of Tusculum, a strong presumption of their descent from the accounts of Tusculum, who in the 10th century were the tyrants of the apostolic sea. According to their own and the public opinion, the primitive and remote source was derived from the banks of the Rhine, and the sovereigns of Germany were not ashamed of for real or fabulous affinity with the noble race, which in the revolutions of 700 years has been often illustrated by merit and always by fortune. About the end of the 13th century, the most powerful branch was composed of an uncle and six brothers, all conspicuous in arms, or in the owners of the church. Of these, Peter was elected senator of Rome, introduced to the capital in a triumphal core, and hailed in some vain acclamations with the title of Caesar. While John and Stephen were declared marquis of Hancona, in Count of Romania, by Nicholas IV, a patron so partial to their family, that he has been delineated in satirical portraits, imprisoned as it were in a hollow pillar. After his decease, their haughty behavior provoked the displeasure of the most implacable of mankind. The two cardinals, the uncle and the nephew, denied the election of Boniface VIII, and the colonel were oppressed by for a moment by his temporal and spiritual arms. He proclaimed a crusade against his personal enemies, their estates were confiscated, their fortresses on either side of the typer were besieged by the troops of St. Peter, and those of the rival nobles. And after the ruin of Palestrina or Praeneste, their principal seat, the ground was marked with a plot share, the emblem of perpetual desolation, degraded, banished, proscribed, the six brothers in disguise and danger, wandered over Europe without renouncing the hope of deliverance and revenge. In this double hope, the French court was their surest asylum. They prompted and directed the enterprise of Philip, and I should praise their magnanimity, had they respected the misfortune and courage of the captive tyrant. His civil acts were annulled by the Roman people who restored the owners and possessions of the colonel, and some estimate may be formed of their wealth by their losses, of their losses by the damages of one hundred thousand gold florins, which were granted them against the accomplices and heirs of the deceased pope. All the spiritual censors and disqualifications were abolished by his prudent successors, and the fortune of the house was more firmly established by this transient hurricane. The boldness of Schiarra Colonna was signalized in the captivity of Boniface, and long afterwards in the coronation of Lewis of Bavaria, and by the gratitude of the emperor, the pillar in their arms was encircled with a royal crown. But the first of the family in fame and merit was the elder Stephen, whom Petrarch loved and esteemed as a hero superior to his own times, and not unworthy of ancient Rome. Prosecution and exile displayed to the nations his abilities in peace and war. In his distress he was an object, not of pity but of reverence. The aspect of danger provoked him to avow his name and country, and when he was asked, where is now your fortress, he laid his hand on his heart and answered, here. He supported with the same virtue the return of prosperity, and to the ruin of his declining age the ancestors, the character, and the children of Stephen Colonna exalted his dignity in the Roman Republic, and at the court of Avignon. The Ursini migrated from Spoleto, the sons of Ursus, as they are styled in the 12th century, from some eminent person who is only known as the father of their race. But they were soon distinguished among the nobles of Rome by the number and bravery of their kinsmen, the strength of their towers, the honors of the senate and sacred college, and the elevation of two popes, Celestine III and Nicholas III, of their name and lineage. Their riches may be accused as an early abuse of nepotism. The estates of St. Peter were alienated in the favor by the liberal Celestine, and Nicholas was ambitious for their sake to solicit the alliance of monarchs, to found new kingdoms in Lombardy and Tuscany, and to invest them with the perpetual office of senators of Rome. All that has been observed of the greatness of the Colonna will likewise redeem to the glory of the Ursini, their constant and equal antagonists in the long hereditary void, which distracted above two hundred and fifty years the ecclesiastical state. The jealousy of preeminence and power was the true ground of their quarrel, but as a suspicious badge of distinction the Colonna embraced the name of gibelins and the party of the empire, the Ursini espoused the title of gulfs and the cause of the church. The eagle and the keys are displayed in their adverse banners and the two factions of Italy most furiously raged when the origin and nature of the dispute were long since forgotten. After the retreat of the Popes to Avignon they disputed in arms the vacant republic and the mischiefs of discord were perpetuated by the wretched compromise of electing each year two rival senators. By their private hostilities the city and country were desolated and the fluctuating balance inclined with their alternate success, but none of either family had fallen by the sword till the most renowned champion of the Ursini was surprised and slain by the younger Stefan Colonna. His triumph was stained with the reproach of violating the truth, their defeat was basically avenged by the assassination before the church door of an innocent boy and his two servants. Yet the victorious Colonna with an annual colleague was declared senator of Rome during the term of five years and the muse of Petrarch inspired Avish a hope, a prediction that the generous youth the son of his venerable hero would restore Rome and Italy to their pristine glory so that his justice would extirpate the wolves and lions the serpents and bears who labored to subvert the eternal basis of the marble column. End of chapter 69 State of Rome from the 12th century Chapter 70 Part 1 of the history of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire Volume 6 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Philippa Jevance The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire Volume 6 Chapter 70 Final Settlement of the Ecclesiastical State Part 1 Character and Coronation of Petrarch Restoration of the Freedom and Government of Rome by the Tribune Rienzi His Virtues and Vices His Expulsion and Death Return of the Popes from Avignon Great Schism of the West Reunion of the Latin Church Last Struggles of Rome and Liberty Statutes of Rome Final Settlement of the Ecclesiastical State In the Apprehension of Modern Times Petrarch is the Italian Songster of Laura and Love. In the Harmony of His Tuscan Rhymes Italy Applauds or rather Adores the Father of Her Lyric Poetry and his verse or at least his name is repeated by the enthusiasm or affectation of amorous sensibility. Whatever may be the private taste of a stranger his slight and superficial knowledge should humbly acquiesce in the judgment of a learned nation yet I may hope or presume that the Italians do not compare the tedious uniformity of sonnets and elegies with the sublime compositions of their epic muse, the original wildness of Dante, the regular beauties of Tasso and the boundless variety of the incomparable Ariosto. The merits of the lover I am still less qualified to appreciate nor am I deeply interested in a metaphysical passion for a nymph so shadowy that her existence has been questioned for a matron so prolific that she was delivered of eleven legitimate children while her amorous swaying side and sung at the fountain of Eucluse. But in the eyes of Petrarch and those of his graver contemporaries his love was a sin and Italian verse a frivolous amusement. His Latin works of philosophy poetry and eloquence established his serious reputation which was soon diffused from Avignon over France and Italy. His friends and disciples were multiplied in every city and if the ponderous volume of his writings be now abandoned to a long repose our gratitude must applaud the man who by precept and example revived the spirit and study of the Augustan age. From his earliest youth Petrarch aspired to the poetic crown. The academical honours of the three faculties had introduced a royal degree of master or doctor in the art of poetry and the title of poet laureate which custom rather than vanity perpetuates in the English court was first invented by the Caesars of Germany. In the musical games of antiquity a prize was bestowed on the victor. The belief that Virgil and Horace had been crowned in the capital inflamed the emulation of a Latin bard and the laurel was endeared to the lover by a verbal resemblance with the name of his mistress. The value of either object was enhanced by the difficulties of the pursuit and if the virtue or prudence of Laura was inexorable he enjoyed and might boast of enjoying the nymph of poetry. His vanity was not of the most delicate kind since he applauded the success of his own labours. His name was popular, his friends were active, the open or secret opposition of envy and prejudice was surmounted by the dexterity of patient merit. In the 36th year of his age he was solicited to accept the object of his wishes and on the same day in the solitude of Vaucluse he received a similar and solemn invitation from the Senate of Rome and the University of Paris. The learning of a theological school and the ignorance of a lawless city were alike unqualified to bestow the ideal though immortal wreath which genius may obtain from the free applause of the public and of posterity but the candidate dismissed this troublesome reflection and after some moments of complacency and suspense preferred the summons of the metropolis of the world. The ceremony of his coronation was performed in the capital by his friend and patron the supreme magistrate of the republic. Twelve patrician youths were arrayed in scarlet, six representatives of the most illustrious families in green robes with garlands of flowers accompanied the procession. In the midst of the princes and nobles the senator, Count of Anguillara, a kinsman of the Colonna, assumed his throne and at the voice of a herald Petrarch arose. After discoursing on a text of Virgil and thrice repeating his vows for the prosperity of Rome he knelt before the throne and received from the senator a laurel crown with a more precious declaration this is the reward of merit. The people shouted long life to the capital and the poet. A sonnet in praise of Rome was accepted as the effusion of genius and gratitude and after the whole procession had visited the Vatican the profane wreath was suspended before the shrine of Saint Peter. In the act or diploma which was presented to Petrarch the title and prerogatives of poet laureate are revived in the capital after the lapse of 1300 years and he receives the perpetual privilege of wearing at his choice a crown of laurel, ivy or myrtle of assuming the poetic habit and of teaching, disputing, interpreting and composing in all places whatsoever and on all subjects of literature. The grant was ratified by the authority of the senate and people and the character of citizen was the recompense of his affection for the Roman name. They did him honour but they did him justice. In the familiar society of Cicero and Livy he had imbibed the ideas of an ancient patriot and his ardent fancy kindled every idea to a sentiment and every sentiment to a passion. The aspect of the Seven Hills and their majestic ruins confirmed these lively impressions and he loved a country by whose liberal spirit he had been crowned and adopted. The poverty and debasement of Rome excited the indignation and pity of her grateful son. He dissembled the faults of his fellow citizens, applauded with partial fondness the last of their heroes and matrons and in the remembrance of the past in the hopes of the future was pleased to forget the miseries of the present time. Rome was still the lawful mistress of the world, the Pope and the Emperor, the Bishop and General had abdicated their station by an inglorious retreat to the Rome and the Danube but if she could resume her virtue the Republic might again vindicate her liberty and dominion. Amidst the indulgence of enthusiasm and eloquence Petrarch, Italy and Europe were astonished by a revolution which realised for a moment his most splendid visions. The rise and fall of the Tribune at Rienzi will occupy the following pages. The subject is interesting, the materials are rich and the glance of a patriot bard will sometimes vivify the copious but simple narrative of the Florentine and more especially of the Roman historian. In a quarter of the city which was inhabited only by mechanics and Jews the marriage of an innkeeper and a washerwoman produced the future deliverer of Rome. From such parents Nicholas Rienzi-Gabrini could inherit neither dignity nor fortune and the gift of liberal education which they painfully bestowed was the cause of his glory and untimely end. The study of history and eloquence the writings of Cicero, Seneca, Livy, Caesar and Valerius Maximus elevated above his equals and contemporaries the genius of the young plebeian. He perused with indefatigable diligence the manuscripts and marbles of antiquity loved to dispense his knowledge in familiar language and was often provoked to exclaim Where are now these Romans? Their virtue, their justice, their power? Why was I not born in these happy times? When the Republic addressed to the throne of Avignon an embassy of the three orders the spirit and eloquence of Rienzi recommended him to a place among the thirteen deputies of the commons. The orator had the honour of haranguing Pope Clement VI and the satisfaction of conversing with Petrarch a congenial mind. But his aspiring hopes were chilled by disgrace and poverty and the patriot was reduced to a single garment and the charity of the hospital. From this misery he was relieved by the sense of merit or the smile of favour and the employment of apostolic notary afforded him a daily stipend of five gold florins a more honourable and extensive connection and the right of contrasting both in words and actions his own integrity with the vices of the state. The eloquence of Rienzi was prompt and persuasive the multitude is always prone to envy and censure he was stimulated by the loss of a brother and the impunity of the assassins nor was it possible to excuse or exaggerate the public calamities. The blessings of peace and justice for which civil society has been instituted were banished from Rome. The jealous citizens who might have endured every personal or pecuniary injury were most deeply wounded in the dishonour of their wives and daughters. They were equally oppressed by the arrogance of the nobles and the corruption of the magistrates and the abuse of arms or of laws was the only circumstance that distinguished the lions from the dogs and serpents of the capital. These allegorical emblems were variously repeated in the pictures which Rienzi exhibited in the streets and churches and while the spectators gazed with curious wonder the bold and ready orator unfolded the meaning applied the satire, inflamed their passions and announced a distant hope of comfort and deliverance. The privileges of Rome, her eternal sovereignty over her princes and provinces was the theme of his public and private discourse and a monument of servitude became in his hands a title and incentive of liberty. The decree of the senate which granted the most ample prerogatives to the emperor Vespasian had been inscribed on a copper plate still extant in the choir of the Church of St John Lateran. A numerous assembly of nobles and plebeians was invited to this political lecture and a convenient theatre was erected for their reception. The notary appeared in a magnificent and mysterious habit, explained the inscription by a version and commentary, and descanted with eloquence and zeal on the ancient glories of the senate and people from whom all legal authority was derived. The supine ignorance of the nobles was incapable of discerning the serious tendency of such representations. They might sometimes chastise with words and blows the plebeian reformer, but he was often suffered in the Colonna Palace to amuse the company with his threats and predictions, and the modern Brutus was concealed under the mask of folly and the character of a buffoon. While they indulged their contempt, the restoration of the good estate, his favourite expression, was entertained among the people as a desirable, a possible, and at length as an approaching event, and while all had the disposition to applaud, some had the courage to assist their promised deliverer. A prophecy, or rather a summons affixed on the Church door of St George was the first public evidence of his designs, an octernal assembly of a hundred citizens on Mount Aventine, the first step to their execution. After an oath of secrecy and aid, he represented to the conspirators the importance and facility of their enterprise, that the nobles, without union or resources, were strong only in the fear of their imaginary strength, that all power, as well as right, was in the hands of the people, that the revenues of the apostolical chamber might relieve the public distress, and that the Pope himself would approve their victory over the common enemies of government and freedom. After securing a faithful ban to protect his first declaration, he proclaimed through the city, by sound of trumpet, that on the evening of the following day all persons should assemble without arms before the Church of St Angelo, to provide for the re-establishment of the good estate. The whole night was employed in the celebration of thirty masses of the Holy Ghost, and in the morning Rienzi, bare-headed but in complete armour, issued from the Church, encompassed by the hundred conspirators. The Pope's vicar, the simple Bishop of Orvieto, who had been persuaded to sustain a part in this singular ceremony, marched on his right hand, and three great standards were born aloft as the emblems of their design. In the first, the banner of liberty, Rome was seated on two lions, with a palm in one hand and a globe in the other. St Paul, with a drawn sword, was delineated in the banner of justice, and in the third St Peter held the keys of concord and peace. Rienzi was encouraged by the presence and applause of an innumerable crowd, who understood little and hoped much, and the procession slowly rolled forwards from the castle of St Angelo to the capital. His triumph was disturbed by some secret emotions which he laboured to suppress. He ascended without opposition, and with seeming confidence, the citadel of the Republic, harangued the people from the balcony, and received the most flattering confirmation of his acts and laws. The nobles, as if destitute of arms and councils, beheld in silent consternation this strange revolution, and the moment had been prudently chosen when the most formidable Stephen Colonna was absent from the city. On the first rumour he returned to his palace, affected to despise this plebeian tumult, and declared to the messenger of Rienzi that at his leisure he would cast the madman from the windows of the capital. The great bell instantly rang an alarm, and so rapid was the tide so urgent was the danger that Colonna escaped with precipitation to the suburb of St Lawrence. From thence, after a moment's refreshment, he continued the same speedy career till he reached in safety his castle of Palestrina, lamenting his own imprudence, which had not trampled the spark of this mighty conflagration. A general and peremptory order was issued from the capital to all the nobles that they should peaceably retire to their estates. Their bade and their departure secured the tranquillity of the free and obedient citizens of Rome. But such voluntary obedience evaporates with the first transports of zeal, and Rienzi felt the importance of justifying his usurpation by a regular form and a legal title. At his own choice the Roman people would have displayed their attachment and authority by lavishing on his head the names of senator or consul, of king or emperor. He preferred the ancient and modest appellation of Tribune. The protection of the commons was the essence of that sacred office, and they were ignorant that it had never been invested with any share in the legislative or executive powers of the Republic. In this character, and with the consent of the Roman, the Tribune enacted the most salutary laws for the restoration and maintenance of the good estate. By the first he fulfills the wish of honesty and inexperience that no civil suit should be protracted beyond the term of fifteen days. The danger of frequent perjury might justify the pronouncing against a false accuser the same penalty which his evidence would have inflicted. The disorders of the times might compel the legislator to punish every homicide with death and every injury with equal retaliation. But the execution of justice was hopeless till he had previously abolished the tyranny of the nobles. It was formally provided that none except the Supreme Magistrate should possess or command the gates, bridges or towers of the state, that no private garrison should be introduced into the towns or castles of the Roman Territory, that none should bear arms or presume to fortify their houses in the city or country, that the barons should be responsible for the safety of the highways and the free passage of provisions, and that the protection of malefactors and robbers should be expiated by a fine of a thousand marks of silver. But these regulations would have been impotent and nougatary had not the licentious nobles been awed by the sword of the civil power. A sudden alarm from the bell of the capital could still summon to the standard above twenty thousand volunteers. The support of the Tribune and the Laws required a more regular and permanent force. In each harbour of the coast a vessel was stationed for the assurance of commerce, a standing militia of three hundred and sixty horse, and thirteen hundred foot was levied, clothed and paid in the thirteen quarters of the city, and the spirit of a commonwealth may be traced in the grateful allowance of one hundred florins or pounds to the heirs of every soldier who lost his life in the service of his country. For the maintenance of the public defence, for the establishment of granaries, for the relief of widows, orphans and indigent convents, Rienzi applied without fear of sacrilege the revenues of the apostolic chamber. The three branches of half-money, the salt duty and the customs, were each of the annual produce of one hundred thousand florins, and scandalous were the abuses if in four or five months the amount of the salt duty could be trebled by his judicious economy. After thus restoring the forces and finances of the republic, the tribune recalled the nobles from their solitary independence, required their personal appearance in the capital, and imposed an oath of allegiance to the new government, and of submission to the laws of the good estate. Apprehensive of their safety, but still more apprehensive of the danger of a refusal, the princes and barons returned to their houses at Rome in the garb of simple and peaceful citizens. The Colonna and Orsini, the Savelli and Frangipani, were confounded before the tribunal of a plebeian, of the vile buffoon whom they had so often derided, and their disgrace was aggravated by the indignation which they vainly struggled to disguise. The same oath was successively pronounced by the several orders of society, the clergy and gentlemen, the judges and notaries, the merchants and artisans, and the gradual descent was marked by the increase of sincerity and zeal. They swore to live and die with the republic and the church, whose interest was artfully united by the nominal association of the Bishop of Orvieto, the Pope's vicar, to the office of tribune. It was the boast of Rienzi that he had delivered the throne and patrimony of St. Peter from a rebellious aristocracy, and Clement VI, who rejoiced in its fall, affected to believe the professions, to applaud the merits, and to confirm the title of his trusty servant. To speech, perhaps the mind of the tribune, was inspired with a lively regard for the purity of the faith. He insinuated his claim to a supernatural mission from the Holy Ghost, enforced by a heavy forfeiture the annual duty of concession and communion, and strictly guarded the spiritual as well as the temporal welfare of his faithful people.