The History of the Crusades (vol. 3 of 3)

by J. Fr. Michaud

Nothing can equal the enormity of the tributes that were imposed upon the clergy for carrying on the holy wars. The tenths were not only levied for the crusades, but for every attempt at a crusade; not only for expeditions to the East, but for every enterprise against the enemies of the court of Rome. They were at length levied under the most vain pretexts; all Europe addressed warm remonstrances to the popes; at first the rigour with which the agents collected the tributes was complained of; and afterwards their infidelity in the application of the treasures extorted from the faithful became equally a subject of scandal. Nothing could be more injurious to the pontifical authority than these complaints, which arose from all quarters, and which, in the end, furnished weapons for the formidable heresy of Luther.

The history of the popes in the middle ages completes the proof of that which we have said. Their domination went on constantly increasing during a century up to Innocent III.; it after that period declined during another century, down to Boniface VIII., at which time crusades beyond the seas ended.

In latter days, publicists have said a great deal about the power of the heads of the Church; but they have judged rather according to systems than according to facts,—more after the spirit of our own age than that of the middle ages. The genius of the sovereign pontiffs has been much lauded, particularly for the purpose of placing their ambition in a stronger light. But if the popes really had the genius and the ambition attributed to them, we must believe they would have been principally employed in aggrandizing their states, and increasing their authority as sovereigns. Nevertheless, they did not succeed in this, or else they never attempted it. In fact, what could men do, who were mostly arrived at the age of decrepitude?—what could princes do, who merely passed over the throne, to strengthen their authority, and master the passions belonging to the infancy and the youth of societies? Among the crowd of popes who succeeded each other, many were endowed with a superior genius, whilst others only possessed a moderate capacity; men of all characters and all turns of mind occupied, in succession, the chair of St. Peter; nevertheless, these men, so different by their tastes, their passions, and their talents, all aimed at and all did the same thing; they had, therefore, an impulsion which was not in themselves, the motive of which must be sought elsewhere than in the vulgar policy of princes.

That would be a curious history which would trace, in the same picture, the spiritual empire and the temporal empire of the popes. Who would not be surprised at seeing in it, on one side, a force which nothing could resist, which moves the very world,—a will always the same, which is transmitted from pontiff to pontiff, like a deposit, or like a sacred heritage; on the other, a policy weak and changeable, like man,—a power which can scarcely defend itself against the lowest of its enemies, and which at every moment the breath of revolutions has power to shake? In this parallel, the imagination would be dazzled when such an empire should be presented to it as has never been seen upon earth, and which would lead to the belief that the popes did not belong to this fragile and transitory world,—a power which hell cannot pull down,—which the world cannot corrupt,—which, without the help of any army, and by the simple ascendancy of a few words, subdues things sooner, and proves itself more formidable, than ancient Rome, with all her victories. What more magnificent spectacle can the history of empires present to us? But, in the other part of the picture, who would not be moved to pity at beholding a government without vigour, an administration without foresight,—that people, descended from the king people, led by an indolent, timid old man, the eternal city falling into ruins, and as hidden beneath the grass? When we see—so near to a power almost supernatural—weakness, uncertainty, the fragility common to things below, and humanity with all its miseries, why may we not be permitted to compare the double power of the popes to Jesus Christ himself, of whom they were the vicars and images upon earth,—to Jesus Christ, whose double nature presents us, on one side, a God beaming with splendour, and on the other a simple mortal, loaded with the cross, and crowned with thorns?

If the principal features of this picture are not wanting in truthfulness, how can we believe in the policy of the popes as it is represented to us?—is it not more natural to think that the sovereign pontiffs, in all they did that was great, followed the spirit of Christianity? In the middle ages, which was the period of their power, they were much more directed by this spirit than they directed it themselves; later, and when popes entertained projects like those that are attributed to their genius and ambition, their power declined. We have but to compare Gregory VII., giving himself up to the spirit of his age, and supporting himself by the ascendancy of the Church, with Julius II., whom Voltaire calls a great prince, and who only employed the known combinations of policy.

The pontifical authority was the only one that had its bases and roots in opinions and beliefs. This power gave the world, or, rather, the world asked of it, laws, knowledge, and a support. The popes were right in the famous comparison of the two great luminaries. The authority of the heads of the Church was much more in advance towards civilization than the authority of princes. In order that the world might be civilized, it was important for the popes to have great power; and the need that was felt for their power favoured the progress of it.

As long as the world was governed by opinions and beliefs, rather than by civil laws and political authorities, the popes exercised the greatest influence; when the interests and rights of princes and nations became better regulated; when the world passed from the empire of opinions to that of laws; when, in a word, temporal power was well established in Europe, and prevailed over the spiritual of society, the pontiffs necessarily lost their ascendancy. Such is the history of the origin, of the progress, and of the decay of the pontifical power in the ages which have preceded us.

That which we have said of the popes clearly shows what influence the Church exercised over the society of Europe in the middle ages; but gross minds were not yet prepared to receive all the benefits of Christianity. The alliance of barbarism with superstition retarded the progress of true knowledge. The passions and customs of barbarians were still mingled with some salutary institutions.

The Franks, the Germans, and Goths, when obtaining possession of the richest countries of Europe, had employed all the rights of conquest, and these rights had become the laws of European society. We may form an idea of the government of the middle ages by representing to ourselves a victorious army, which disperses itself throughout the conquered country, shares the territory and those who inhabit it, and is always ready to march at the signal of its officers and its supreme general, to combat the common enemy, and defend its possessions.