ancient Cathedral might well be paraphrased into one that could be placed upon the Palace.
“Clement V. thought of it; John XXII. founded
it; Benedict XII. built it; Clement VI. enlarged
and enriched it; Innocent VI. added to its glory;
Urban V. chastened it; Gregory XI. abandoned
it; the Anti-pope, Pierre de Luna, defended and
jeopardised it; the Legates vandalised it; the
Brigands of Avignon desecrated it; the Military
transformed it out of all knowledge; and now a
thoughtful Republic is endeavouring to restore it
to its former state.”
Such an inscription would briefly set out the main facts of its long history for the last six hundred years.
The worldly splendour of the Papal Court at Avignon, under the Pontificates of Benedict XII. and Clement VI., was notorious throughout Christendom, and when one reads of the indolent voluptuousness and dissipations of the debauched clergy who surrounded the Papal throne, one is quite prepared to learn that the grave scandals shocked even the lax moralities of the period. It was in vain that the last three occupants of St. Peter’s Chair in Avignon sought to suppress the excessive pomp and luxury of their courts. Clement VI. had left behind him a reputation for being “a fine gentleman, a prince munificent to profusion, a patron of the arts, but no Saint,” and it is not difficult to imagine that the example of one in such exalted station was well calculated to encourage the wealthy churchmen to emulate his dissipations.
Reformers and disciplinarians were bound to be unpopular with such a society, and one cannot help feeling that when (urged by the supplications of the Italians and the fanatical entreaties and vehement persuasions of St. Catharine, who went in person to plead with the Holy Father) the earnest Gregory XI. left Avignon, he did so with a feeling of relief. At his departure, the licence of the clergy increased to such an extent that Charles V., shocked at the scandals of the Church, could endure them no longer, and sent soldiers under the command of Marshal Boucicaut to drive the Anti-pope, Pierre de Luna (Benedict XIII.), from the place. Pierre de Luna established himself in the Fortress Palace, and defended it with determination. He destroyed one of the arches of the Pont St. Benezet to cut off the approaches from the river; and from the battlements and towers of his castle directed the engines of war with his own hands on the town and townsfolk, who suffered so severely that over a hundred houses and four thousand of the inhabitants were destroyed during the siege.
After months of fighting the King’s troops stormed the fortress, and Pierre de Luna saved himself by means of secret passages and staircases leading to a vault from whence he got to the river side, and escaping across the Rhone, sought refuge under the protection of the King of Spain in his native country. Here, with two vicars, or priests, he kept up the pretence of being still the Pope, and each day from the top of a tower he blessed his distant friends and cursed his enemies. At his death his two followers, both of whom he had made cardinals, met in conclave, and one elected the other “Pope.” The farce of this schism was ended by both of the exiled cardinals being bribed into reconciliation to Rome; one being made Archbishop of Toledo, and the other Archbishop of Seville.
It was during this siege that the fire broke out by which the Salle Brulle got its name; but there is another story which attributes the origin of this name to the brutality of one of the Papal Legates, when, inviting a number of the leading citizens of the town to a great feast in the chamber, he left them in the middle of the banquet and blew up the happy party with gunpowder.
The reason for this “Gunpowder treason” was, that a near relative of the Legate had been assassinated by some