The personal characters of the infallible and inspired guides of the Christian world cannot be delineated in the fulness of their impious depravity. The moral supremacy assumed by them as the representatives of celestial power was presumed to excuse the open indulgence of vices which even the most licentious temporal potentates sedulously veiled from the eyes of mankind. For more than two centuries the Papal court presented an almost uninterrupted exhibition of profligacy, which scandalized devout believers, whose imagination had invested the Holy Father with the attributes of divinity, and excited the horror of the few eminent and consistent Christian prelates who remained pure amidst the general contamination. Some priests celebrated mass in a state of intoxication. Others paraded the streets with a train of bacchantes singing profane and licentious songs. They presented their boon companions with the sacred vessels of the altar. Archbishops appointed women of infamous antecedents to the superintendence of convents. The Vatican swarmed with catamites and courtesans. Colonies of nuns, members of the seraglios of the cardinals and the Pope, occupied houses adjoining the sanctuary of St. Peter’s. The satellites of the Papacy obtained the most lucrative employments by means of unnatural blandishments and ministrations of unspeakable vileness. The most debased ideas were entertained of the ecclesiastical functions devolving upon the head of the Christian communion. Ministers of religion were consecrated in stables. Cathedrals were made the theatre of mummeries and obscene dances. Virgins were torn from the precincts of the sanctuary and dragged to the Papal harem. In the time of John XII. no woman was safe from indignity and outrage in the very temple of God. Boniface IX. sold a cardinal’s hat to a profligate adventurer named Bathalzar Cossa, who afterwards seized the tiara by force and passed from the deck of a pirate galley to the Apostolic Throne. The latter, under the name of John XXIII., in a few years attained a reputation remarkable even in the annals of Papal degradation. He was deposed by the Council of Constance after conviction of every offence of which a depraved imagination could conceive. The infallibility of his mission was thus impugned both by his irregular appointment and by the intervention of his spiritual subordinates who effected his deposition. It was an axiom of the canon law, inevitably resulting from the original spurious grant of pontifical authority, that no guilt or heresy of the Pope could divest him of his spiritual powers or of the sanctity which enveloped his person as the Vicar of God. A dire necessity alone could impel a council to violate this fundamental principle upon which depended the prestige of the Papacy. The impiety of the Holy Fathers was not less prominent than their defiance of the rules of morality. Boniface VIII. openly blasphemed the name of Christ. John XXII. ridiculed the sacraments. At the banquets of John XII., Venus and Bacchus were in turn toasted by noisy revellers of both sexes, the favorite associates of that Pontiff.
The admissions of Pius II., in his correspondence preserved in the Vatican, indicate without concealment the practice of the grossest libertinage. From the orgies of Benedict XII. dates the famous proverb, “Bibere papaliter,” “To drink like a Pope.” Sixtus IV., who inaugurated the custom of licensing the brothels of Rome, derived annually from this horrible traffic the enormous sum of thirty thousand ducats. Innocent X. sold to the starving peasantry, at an advance of a hundred per cent., the grain he had purchased at the price he himself had fixed. Sixtus IV. gravely decreed that the illegitimate children of the Popes should, by reason of their birth alone, be placed on an equality with the descendants of the princely houses of Italy. The scandals of the court of Avignon under Clement VI. and his successors surpassed even those which had for ages made the Eternal City a reproach to civilization and Christianity. Of the latter, Benedict XII. has been conspicuously held up to the execration of posterity as the violator of the sister of Petrarch, whose connivance he attempted to purchase with a cardinal’s hat and a purse of a thousand florins of gold. The bull of Alexander VI., which countenanced the slaughter of fifteen million inoffensive natives of the New World, is a fitting climax to this revolting chronicle of crime and infamy. Well might the indignant Cardinal Baronius exclaim, that “the Popes were monsters who installed themselves on the throne of Christendom by simony and murder.” Few indeed there were of the Holy Fathers who tolerated even the suspicion of profane learning in their jurisdiction. Most of them were the implacable enemies of every kind of knowledge. Gregory I. burned all the copies of Livy that the most rigorous search could disclose. Gregory VIII., scandalized by the “superstitious tales” contained in the work of the great Roman historian, completed, as far as human energy and malignity could effect, the destructive task of his predecessor. In consequence, out of a hundred and forty-two books known to have existed during the reign of these two Pontiffs, but thirty-five have survived. Sylvester II. is said by Petrarch to have been “Negromante, e di dottrina eccellente,” qualifications which seem rather incongruous with the duties and the traditions of the Papacy. Nor was the famous Gerbert the only Pope devoted to uncanonical and prohibited investigations of the false science of the age. John XIX. was skilled in hydromancy; John XX. was an expert in the casting of horoscopes and in divination; Benedict IX. consulted the familiar geniuses of the forests and the mountains; Gregory VII. possessed a manual of enchantment, and shook clouds of sparks from his sleeves when he pronounced the Pontifical blessing; Alexander VI. had the reputation throughout Italy of “an abominable sorcerer.”
The spirit of infidelity and blasphemy which prevailed in the highest ranks of the priesthood also infected the occupants of the throne. The lives of some of the most devout sovereigns presented incredible examples of cruelty, hypocrisy, and deceit. Ecclesiastical example and the facility of absolution had apparently destroyed all reverence for the precepts of the Gospel, all apprehension of Divine wrath. The contempt often entertained by royalty for the decrees of the Almighty is disclosed by the impious speech of Alfonso X., the Most Catholic King, “If God had consulted me when He created the world, I would have given Him some good advice.”
The spurious donation of Constantine, by which the first Christian sovereign was alleged to have conveyed to Pope Sylvester I. the title to the Western Empire, and with it the inherited authority of the Cæsars, was supplemented in the eighth century by the Forged Decretals, a series of epistles declared to have been promulgated by the first Bishops of Rome, whose names and order of apostolic succession are themselves either apocryphal or based entirely on uncertain tradition. The inconsistencies, contradictions, and absurdities of the Decretals, which afford abundant internal evidence of the ignorance of those who composed them, and their entire want of concord on important points of doctrine, have demonstrated beyond question their fraudulent origin. But in an age of superstition their authority was amply sufficient to accomplish the object for which they were invented,—the autocracy of the Popes. The general deficiency of critical knowledge, assisted by the reverence entertained by the masses for the decisions of the Successor of St. Peter, caused these glaring forgeries to be accepted with the same faith which was accorded to the precepts of the Gospel. They conferred the most extensive and dangerous prerogatives on the Papacy. They subjected the claims of every temporal sovereign to the extravagant pretensions of the Roman Catholic hierarchy. The right of regal investiture was by their maxims declared to be inherent in members of the sacerdotal order, and the title of a monarch alleged to be imperfect until he had been crowned by a servant of the Church. By their incorporation into the civil procedure of Europe,—for centuries dominated by the canon law,—they established on a permanent basis the ideas and the principles of Papal supremacy. No measure of statecraft has ever advanced the interests of the Holy See to such an extent as the publication of the Decretals, nor has any genuine series of laws exercised over society a more potent influence than that imposed by these fraudulent epistles upon subsequent legislation.
The vast ecclesiastical system, whose ramifications extended to the most insignificant hamlets of every country in Europe and whose jurisdiction was paramount in the domains of the most powerful monarchs, carried with it the abuses and vices of the central and irresponsible authority. The spiritual courts of provincial metropolitans and bishops presented on a diminished scale the greed and sensuality of the Vatican. The same organized simony regulated the presentation and promotion of clerk and prelate. The same iniquitous expedients were adopted for the augmentation of ecclesiastical revenues. Priests and bishops lived in avowed and unblushing concubinage. The seraglio of the Abbot of San Pelayo de Antealtaria contained seventy concubines. Henry III., Bishop of Liege, acknowledged the paternity of sixty-five illegitimate children. In Spain, the metropolitans, as well as their subordinates, maintained harems guarded by eunuchs. In Germany, sacerdotal dignitaries of the highest rank endeavored to overturn the empire by the aid of idolaters, and enlisted bands of robbers who plundered cities and extorted enormous ransoms from wealthy merchants and defenceless travellers. In France, the clergy of Verdun regularly furnished Jewish traders with Christian children who had been emasculated for the slave-markets of Cordova and Seville. In Italy, the sale of young and beautiful maidens to the Moors of Sicily and Mauritania, which had invoked the indignant protest of Charlemagne, was for many years one of the most lucrative perquisites of the priesthood.
The laxity of morals prevalent in the hierarchy was fatal to the preservation of ecclesiastical discipline. Priests and nuns, divesting themselves of their sacred character, which was supposed to present an edifying example to the laity, contended with each other for the infamous superiority of promiscuous lewdness. The contributions of charity, the oblations of the devout, were squandered in drunken orgies and midnight banquets. In certain Swiss cantons a new priest was compelled, on his arrival, to choose a concubine as a theoretical safeguard of the honor of his female parishioners. These connections were authorized by the laws of some countries, among them the fueros of Castile, which permitted the sons of a celibate to inherit half his property. The sale of licenses to entertain what were known as “sub-introduced women” was for centuries a profitable source of revenue to the bishops of England, and no priest was exempt from this tax whether he wished to avail himself of its privileges or not. The dignity of the sacred profession in France had been degraded by the sacrilege of the Carlovingians, who appointed their favorite officers to the richest benefices; and the antecedents and manners of these rude veterans were, as may be supposed, but ill-adapted to the solemn ceremonies of the altar and the confessional. Following this worthy example, churchmen of the highest rank conferred the best livings at their disposal on panders, lackeys, and barbers. The coarse and unfeeling nature of the German ecclesiastics did not hesitate to prompt the violation of every sentiment of honor in the gratification of its brutal instincts. The holding of pluralities in England had become an evil of national importance. Many foreign prelates had never even visited the sees whose revenues they enjoyed. The possession of from twenty to thirty benefices was not uncommon, and some fortunate individuals are mentioned who held from three to four hundred. The deplorable condition of the priesthood was largely due to the enforcement of celibacy on the one hand, and the sale of dispensations to violate it on the other.
The poems, the satires, and the tales which have come down to us from the Middle Ages reveal the profligate manners of the clergy, as well as the general contempt in which they were held by those whose consciences were nominally in their keeping. In these amusing literary productions the priest, the monk, and the cardinal are almost invariably objects of ridicule. Their peculiar garb, their uncouth manners, their lubricity, their gluttony, their avarice, are made the butt of profane and vulgar witticisms. They are entrapped in ludicrous and compromising situations. They are made the victims of severe practical jokes. The language put into their mouths is a compound of obscenity and blasphemy. A society which could countenance such scandalous revelations must have had scanty respect for the clerical profession and its ministers. Assemblages of eminent episcopal dignitaries fare little better than individuals at the hands of the irreverent narrator. Nor can we wonder that such is the case when we recall the conditions and the accessories associated in the public mind with the Councils of the Church. At the departure of the Papal court from Lyons, in the thirteenth century, Cardinal Hugo, a distinguished prelate, in the presence of an immense concourse, made the increased depravity of that city, for which its reverend visitors were confessedly responsible, the subject of a pleasing jest. The Holy Fathers of the famous Council of Constance convoked to reform the priesthood, punish heresy, and establish a more exalted standard of moral discipline for the edification of the ungodly, beguiled the moments snatched from the labors of pious deliberations and religious controversy in the society of crowds of buffoons and dancers and of seven hundred courtesans. The institution of the monastic orders not only contributed greatly to the power of the Papacy but exercised, as well, a direct and generally a most pernicious influence on society. An immense body of fanatics, blindly devoted to the See of Rome, was placed at the absolute disposal of the Pope,—invaluable allies in the bitter contests between the Altar and the Throne. The mutual jealousies and enmities of the secular and the regular clergy made both the more dependent on the favor of the Supreme Pontiff. Every individual in a religious house was sworn to inviolable secrecy concerning all that took place within its walls, a regulation which became in subsequent times a convenient precaution for the concealment of orgies that shunned the light of day. The assumption of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience imparted to the monk and the begging friar a peculiar sanctity in the eyes of the credulous multitude. They mortified the flesh and suppressed carnal provocations by frequent bleeding and long abstinence from food. They disclaimed the aristocratic tastes which were a reproach to the luxurious members of the secular priesthood. They renounced all the allurements, even all the comforts, of life. Their physical necessities were supplied by alms. Their fervid oratory, not confined by the pillared vaults of churches, but which, in the open air, appealed to the imagination and the prejudices of the ignorant, their voluntary renunciation of the pleasures of the world, the ostentatious self-sacrifice of their lives, made them universal favorites with the people. Men of all classes showered gifts upon them. Women eagerly sought their services as confessors. Their visits to the isolated villages of the simple peasantry were hailed as harbingers of good fortune. Their abodes offered gratuitous rest and refreshment to the belated traveller. Their benediction attended the birth and the christening of the infants of the poorest cottage. Their prayers brought consolation and relief to the bedside of the earnest Christian and the repentant sinner alike. At every fireside their temporary and accidental presence was regarded as a blessing.
But a change soon came over the monastic orders. The temptations of wealth, luxury, and personal enjoyment proved too strong to be resisted. The robe of coarse cloth was metamorphosed into a mantle of the finest fabric, trimmed with costly furs. The prior no longer travelled alone and on foot, but rode an ambling palfrey, followed by a train of obsequious attendants. The hermitage developed into a stately palace, whose appointments and surroundings equalled and not infrequently eclipsed in splendor the seats of princes. The monk became a great landed proprietor. By purchase, by gift, by inheritance, by forfeiture, he acquired in every country large and profitable estates. Half of the lands of France were at one time in his possession. The German nobility complained that monasteries had absorbed the bulk of the real property of the empire. The visitation of Henry VIII., which led to the suppression of the religious houses of England, revealed the fact that the regular clergy had for centuries enjoyed the fruits of the most productive and valuable portion of the public domain. The peculiar character of its tenure made ecclesiastical proprietorship the more oppressive. Its title was in mortmain, and its estates inalienable. It could always acquire, but never relinquish, territorial rights. The transfers of land, which constitute so important an incentive to commercial activity in every community, were not merely discountenanced, but were absolutely prohibited, by its selfish and unjust regulations.
Monastic life, while nominally ascetic, presented in the more opulent communities a picture of sybaritic indulgence. In the cloister the refining influence of literature had, even with the gratification of sensual appetites, modified in the monk the degrading propensities and ferocious temper which actuated his associate, the feudal baron. The dishes were more varied and delicate; the choicest wines took the place of the coarse product of the brewery; and the conversation, while fully as irreverent and licentious as that which entertained the guests of the noble, was deprived of much of its repulsiveness by an outward observance of decency. When overcome with too much hospitality, the genial votary of Bacchus, instead of being left under the table, exposed to the ridicule of his companions or the swords of brawlers, was quietly conveyed to his cell by his more sober brethren. The customs of the age imperatively demanded that the head of a religious house should possess all the attributes of aristocratic birth and gentle breeding. In the eyes of the Celt especially, symmetry of form and dignity of carriage were indispensable characteristics of the ruler of a monastic community. Both abbot and abbess were selected for corporeal rather than for moral or intellectual qualifications,—for handsome features, commanding presence, and elegant manners. Popular opinion insensibly associated mental superiority and pious inclinations with physical perfection; and personal deformity was supposed, especially by the ignorant multitude, to indicate a disposition to crime. This belief, no doubt unconsciously derived from the impressions left by the Pagan deities of antiquity, in whose statues, models of beauty, were embodied the unrivalled conceptions of the ancient sculptor, demonstrates the persistent survival of time-honored tradition and religious prejudice in the human mind.
With the unlimited opportunities for their gratification, uncanonical practices were at first secretly indulged in and afterwards openly tolerated. The refectory, once noted for frugality and pious exhortation, was now the scene of gluttonous feasts and licentious jesting. Foreign delicacies and wines of exquisite flavor appeared daily on the table. Monks and nuns maintained unholy relations under the same roof. Many priors had acknowledged concubines, and he who restricted himself to a single mistress was regarded as a paragon of ecclesiastical virtue. In contravention of every rule of their order, monks assumed disguises and wandered over the country in search of amorous adventures. Through their agency obnoxious relatives were kidnapped and forced into perpetual confinement, or, if sufficient pecuniary inducements were offered, made to disappear forever from the knowledge of man. In England they frequently figured in disgraceful brawls with other dissipated patrons of lupanars and taverns. The monasteries of Spain, France, and Italy presented an even more disgraceful picture of drunkenness, licentiousness, and disorder.