The townsfolk gaped in amazement and did not stir. The band of troops clattered up to the sunny papal palace. There were no soldiers to defend it; Pope and cardinals were helpless. The cardinals gave themselves up for lost. But the Pope was a brave man. ‘ Since,’ he said, ‘ like Jesus Christ, I am willing to be taken, and needs must die by treachery, at least let me die as Pope.’ He bade his attendants robe him in the mantle of St. Peter, with the crown of Constantine on his head, and the keys and cross in his hand; he seated himself on the papal chair.
He sat whilst Nogaret thundered at the doors. He sat as he heard the iron-mailed feet tread the corridors. Then the French and Italian enemy came into presence. Boniface sat unmoving. He was old, stout, but still a handsome figure. Nogaret demanded that he should at once abdicate from the papacy. He constantly refused. He was seized, dragged from the throne, taken prisoner, and threatened with instant death if he did not at once agree to abdicate. Still he refused. So he was kept confined until he should submit.
On the third day the people of Anagni, ashamed at last of this treatment of their old, proud Pope, rose and drove forth the mere handful of the enemy. Boniface was free, but the shock had been too great for a man of seventy- nine. Escorted by the Orsini family, who were bitter enemies of the rival Roman House of Colonna, Boniface returned to Rome and entered it amidst the cheers of the people. But his time was nearly over. It is said his mind gave way, and that he gnawed at himself as if he were mad. In three weeks he died — the last great pope of the Middle Ages had passed away. The papacy never again rose to European power. Monarchy was now triumphant, kings were the greatest men in the world.
The next important pope was elected in France. He was Bertrand de Goth, Archbishop of Bordeaux, which city then belonged to England. But Bertrand was a Frenchman, and unwilling in any way to offend the French king. He did not depart for Rome, as every pope had done. New cardinals were created, all Frenchmen, and the papal court was set up in the Archbishop’s palace in Bordeaux.
In 1309, however, the Pope and his cardinals removed to Avignon, an old town in Provence, on the Rhone. There the papal court would still remain under the protection of the French king. Once again Provence knew the gay splendours it had seen in Roman days, when it was the brilliant Province. The town was ancient, sunny, delightful, full of memories of the great past. It had an excellent climate, much better than that of Rome, and the townsfolk were quiet and pleasant, not like the turbulent citizens of Rome, who were constantly rising in dangerous rage against their popes. The valley of the Rhone was delightful, beautiful to look at, pleasant to ride through, excellent for sport. It was full of the memories of old Roman greatness, but memories all mellow and sweet, not bloody.
The popes now became like the Gallic bishops in the Frankish days. They did not trouble deeply about anything. In their great palace on the Rhone they spent days of festival, they took their pleasure on the river and in the shady woods. The cardinals established themselves in palaces in the city, and the old streets were brilliant with gay processions as these prelates, vivid in their scarlet, rode laughingly towards the Pope’s palace, followed by a retinue of gentlemen and ladies. Now for the first time ladies were invited to the papal feasts. Poets sang to the harp, fools and buffoons made merriment, the wine circulated, the handsome halls rang with mirth. Then musicians struck up for the glittering dance. But in time the Avignon popes suffered from lack of money, for the revenues did not come in to the papal treasury in France as they had in Rome.
For seventy years, from 1305 to 1376, the popes resided in France. This period is called the Babylonish Captivity, when the Church was supposed to be in captivity in France as the Jews had been captive in Babylon. But though France was the greatest power in Europe at that time, before the great struggle of the Hundred Years War, yet the popes were not altogether slavish, not really under the thumb of the French King. None the less the reverence for the papacy withered in all countries in Europe during the Captivity. Men began even to despise the great head of the Church, whom before they had regarded as being very near to God Himself, very powerful.
Chapter XII. The End of the Age of Faith
Just as men grew restless under supreme authority of an emperor, so they rebelled against the authority of the Pope. The popes wished to keep supreme religious command over all Christians. The only way to do this was to make the people believe that the Pope stood much nearer to God than they did, and that he received holy secrets and commands straight from heaven. To keep up this belief, there must be much mystery and strangeness in religion. It would not do for people to know everything. The priests must keep the great secrets, they must stand between God and the masses. And this was the way in which the Catholic Church ruled Christendom. The Bible was a mysterious holy book which the common people never saw, and which they could never read if they did see it, for it was written in Latin. Sometimes the priests read them little pieces: about the heavens opening, or about the stones rolling back from the Sepulchre as Jesus rose from the dead. And it seemed terrible and wonderful. It seemed to the people as if the priests knew great, deep mysteries, of which only a fragment was revealed to ordinary men. The ordinary Christians read nothing and knew nothing by themselves. Everything was told to them by the priests. And so, as when we tell tales to children, they heard vivid and marvellous stories of miracles and wonders, terrible accounts of the devil and the horrors of hell, lovely descriptions of heaven. All was real and actual to them. They really believed that devils lurked in houses, or possessed the souls of neighbours or friends.
They really believed that the priests and saints could speak to these devils. They could almost see the devils cringing as a priest approached making the sign of the cross, they could almost hear the imps whimpering with pain if they were touched with a drop of holy water. As nowadays children sometimes believe in fairies, and imagine they see them, so in the early days all men and women really believed in devils and angels. And if the. ordinary priest, with his mysterious knowledge and his magical Latin, had such power over devils, how much more had the Pope? The Pope was master of Satan himself. Archangels talked with the Pope. He was lord of Christendom, he held the keys of heaven and hell. If the Pope excommunicated a man, that man was condemned to burn for ever in fire and brimstone, tortured by legions of imps. So all men believed quite simply. Hcnce the great power of the popes. And hence we call the Middle Ages the Age of Faith.
After the Age of Faith dawned the Age of Reason. Very early, students and thoughtful priests began to study the New Testament. They found nothing about the grandeur of a pope or the rich splendour of bishops, nothing about the power of priests. They only saw the plain lesson, that Christians must give their goods to the poor, think nothing of the pleasures of the body, and everything of saving the soul.
Before 1200 some people in the south of France, that old, cultured land, got hold of a translation of the Bible, and began to form their own opinion from it. They believed in poverty, they would not marry, they fasted and denied the body. The rich luxury of the bishops was denounced.
These new people were called ‘ the Poor Men of Lyons.’ The Pope saw that if such sects increased the whole power of the Church would collapse. So the Poor Men of Lyons were bitterly persecuted. A crusade was preached against them, by the Pope’s orders. In 1209 Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, set out against them. The ‘ Poor Men ‘
were massacred in hundreds, the old towns of the Langue- doc destroyed. Only Toulouse, the old Gothic capital, at this time headquarters of the new people, held out against the besieging armies, and Simon de Montfort was killed by a stone thrown from an engine which was worked by women on the walls of the city.
After this crusade the Court of the Inquisition was established, to examine and punish men guilty of heresy — that is, guilty of false beliefs. In 1233 the learned Spanish monks of the new order of Dominicans were made Papal Inquisitors, the Court of Inquisition was in their hands. They punished witches, wizards, heret
ics, burning them at the stake. For the Ages of Faith were ages also of deplorable cruelty.
At the same time another great religious movement began. St. Francis of Assisi, a young Italian of well-to-do family, frail in health but passionate in soul, suddenly realised in his own way what the Christian life meant. He gave away all his goods, and said he would own nothing. He declared he was wedded to Our Lady Poverty. He was very happy in his new discovery. Whilst Italy was torn between struggling emperor and pope, Francis went about joyously telling all men how sweet and delightful it was to live for love alone, to own nothing, to be defenceless and helpless, but always to love and to help and to rejoice, looking forward to the life with Jesus.
Many men were attracted by St. Francis’ way of life. They left everything and came with him, as the disciples had followed Christ. Then St. Clare, who loved Francis, gathered the women about her. And soon there were many Franciscans, men and women.
Pope Innocent III., the greatest of all the popes, had, like his predecessors, preached the Crusade in which the Poor Men of Lyons were massacred. But Innocent loved Francis, and gave him the right to establish the great Franciscan Order, that order of wandering friars afterwards so famous in Europe, and such a great help to the Church.
The Franciscans were not like other monks. They did not shut themselves up. Their duty was to wander the earth, teaching, helping, loving all men — possessing nothing themselves, and giving love to all men. The older monks were dark, loveless men, who never looked at the earth. The great St. Bernard once sailed down the beautiful Lake of Lucerne without even glancing around him, his mind was so bent on his own affairs. But Francis taught differently. He loved the sky and the grass and all living things. He once stood and preachcd a sweet sermon to the birds that fluttered round him, calling them, ‘ my little sisters, the birds.’
The Dominicans also wandered about teaching. But they were learned monks, and they taught strict morality and obedience. The Franciscans taught joyousness and sweet love. They taught hope. They told men that the reign of love was at hand.
All over Europe began a great ferment in the souls of men, towards the end of the thirteenth century. The fearful struggles of the emperors were over, the crusades were more or less finished. A strangeness seemed to hang in the air. Men felt that something was going to happen. There was a feeling of fear, of calamity; and at the same time a feeling of frightened hope or expectation. Something terrible and wonderful was going to take place. The little poems of the Middle Ages constantly chime — ‘ The fear of death oppresses me.’
Out of the ruin and chaos which followed the death of Innocent III. and Frederick II., strange thoughts arose. Men came forward declaring themselves prophets. They told curious and terrible things, and people were filled with dread. In 1251 a book was published called ‘ Introduction to the Everlasting Gospel,’ supposed to contain the teaching of a famous seer or prophet, the Abbot Joachim, who had died at Naples in 1202. In this book it said that Judaism was the revelation of the Father: Christianity was the revelation of the Son: now men must prepare for the revelation of the Holy Ghost.
Wild ideas spread everywhere. Men began to expect the reign of the Holy Ghost. They said that before Jesus was born the Father had reigned: after this, until their own day, the Son had reigned; now the Holy Ghost would reign. In the Everlasting Gospel it was stated that when the Holy Ghost began to reign the papacy and the priesthood would cease to exist. There would be no more Church to govern the souls of men. So the popes condemned the Everlasting Gospel as wicked, heretical, false doctrine. None the less it had a great power over the minds of men.
In 1260 Gerard Sagarelli, a workman of Parma, sat in the market-place of his town and flung away all he had among the crowd. Then he stripped himself naked, had himself wrapped in swaddling bands and laid in a cradle. After this he declared himself born again, an apostle sent from God. He started a new Order, the Order of Apostles. He went about, wild and strange, preaching mad doctrines. People flocked to him from North Italy. But he was burned in Parma as a heretic, in 1300, by the Dominican Inquisition.
One of his disciples was called Dolcino of Novara. He said men should hold no earthly possession, no earthly connection. Wife should leave husband, a father should leave his children, nothing human should stand in the way of the perfect union of the soul with the Holy Ghost. These men prayed no more to Jesus. They felt the Holy Ghost coming upon them, filling them with strange bliss, and with sheer perfection.
Several thousands of people retired to a lovely valley in the Alps, the Val di Sesia, in Piedmont. There they lived half naked, fasting, praying, hoping for the Holy Ghost to come upon them, prophesying and seeing visions when they felt themselves at last filled with the Spirit. They did no work, but depended on the frightened, awe-stricken peasants to bring them food. This manner of life sent many demented, and they were all beside themselves.
In 1305 they were excommunicated and threatened with the Inquisition. The governor of the nearest town, and the Bishop of Vercelli, with armed forces marched against them. These apostles of the Holy Ghost, mad with unnatural excitement, retired to a steep hill. There with frenzy they hurled and rolled stones and masses of rock upon the attacking force, holding them back. Then they fled up steep precipices, where armies could not follow them.
They were now really mad, no longer human beings. No peasants would come near them with food, they were always starving. They came down on villages and lonely houses, robbing, plundering, devouring food like wild beasts. Their eyes glared with strange light. If any one opposed them, they rushed with terrifying looks and stabbed him and slashed him with knives. Then they disappeared again up the secret paths of their precipices, gathering together to call on the Holy Ghost to fill them with power and fury.
At last in 1307 their fastness on Mount Zerbal was stormed. The apostles with their wild, waving hair and mad eyes were slaughtered or scattered, some were captured. Women were there, shrieking and fighting like wolves: for each apostle had a chosen heavenly sister. Both the apostle Dolcino and his heavenly sister were taken. The woman was slowly burned before Dolcino’s eyes, and then his flesh was torn bit by bit with red-hot pincers. But he never murmured.
After the Apostles, a great sect formed after the Franciscan idea, called the Fraticelli, was pursued and destroyed by the Church.
In 1320 the shepherds and peasantry of France were strangely stirred. At first little groups of ignorant peasants were remarked wandering barefoot and begging.
No one took much notice. Then the groups became more numerous. Every day bands of barefooted men were passing through the streets of towns and villages, crying aloud for alms and gifts, and declaring that they were going to win back the Holy Places. Then swarms filled the land. No one knew what inspired them, nor whence they came. Band after band gradually flocked together, all possessed as it seemed by the same madness. The educated people looked on in terror as these ragged crowds drew together, masses of ignorant people who had left all work, abandoned everything, and were moving they knew not whither. They were named the Pastoureaux, or Shepherds.
The swarms grew into a great army. They turned to Paris, and by their very masses burst into the city. Then they went through the streets, breaking down the doors of prisons, breaking into houses and shops, taking what they wanted. After this, moved by some herd instinct, they departed southwards, towards Palestine, they said.
As they went they massacred all Jews they came across, recognising them by their distinctive dress. They broke into the castles of nobles, into rich houses, into the houses of priests and bishops, taking whatever they wanted, and saying it was for a holy mission. More bands joined them from every side. The great, blind, dirty host rolled down the valley of the Rhone.
But when they came to the coast they were stopped from entering Italy by the governor of Carcassonne. The Pastoureaux turned and began to spread over the countryside, and over low, swampy districts. They were in such masses that no one dared attack
them. Watchful armies waited to prevent their streaming forth. As the weeks went by starvation and exposure brought on deadly fevers. The sickening Pastoureaux died like flies.
At last so many had died that the armies dared attack them. They were slaughtered and captured and subdued, and then the remainder were taken back to work.
This rising of the Pastoureaux was something like the risings of the Gallo-Roman slaves and peasants in the day? before the Franks, and similar to other terrible peasant risings which have taken place in France. It seems as if the French poor were liable to these attacks of unaccountable uneasiness.
All these later movements and madnesses, however, took place whilst the popes were in Avignon, during the period called the Babylonish Captivity. Men hoped for better things when the papal court returned to Rome.
But it was not to be so. Gregory xi. returned to Rome in 1376. When he died in 1378, the populace of Rome cried loudly for an Italian pope, so a Neapolitan archbishop became Urban vi. Urban was severe, strict, and conscientious. He was very stern with the dissolute cardinals. Therefore many, and the French cardinals in particular, began to cry out against this Italian pope, and to declare he was not properly elected. They went so far, that in September 1378 the French cardinals elected Robert of Geneva to be Clement VII.
Thus there were two popes. Urban held his court at Rome, Clement at Avignon. There were two sets of cardinals, two governments for one church. This divided all Europe. And this division is called The Great Schism.
Each pope called on all nations to obey him. France, Scotland, Castile, Aragon, Naples, followed the French pope; England, Germany, Scandinavia, Poland and Portugal followed the Italian pope. Then began a great commotion. Both popes loudly declared themselves to be the one and only pope. Then they began to revile each other in letters and public proclamations. Then they excommunicated each other. And at last it went so far, that each preached a crusade against the other. The priests of one half of Christendom preached a crusade against the priests of the other half.
Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence Page 908