Thursday, December 8, 2011

Establishing Royal Authority and Decreasing Papal Dependence: The Dialogues of Authority at the Besançon Affair

This essay seeks to demonstrate two aspects of imperial authority as evidenced by the documents pertaining to the Imperial Diet at Besançon. I hope to demonstrate two key aspects of Imperial government. First, Frederick I was well aware of the principles of communal governance. Second, Papal rhetoric and actions threatened the destruction of local communal ties to the imperial government. Most importantly, however, is that this situation arose from the consolidation of three different titles around a single person.

When the Imperial Diet met in October 1157, chancellor Roland read a letter from the pope, which stipulated that “the fullness of dignity and honor had been bestowed upon the emperor by the Roman pontiff, that the emperor had received from his hand the imperial crown, and that he would have regretted conferring even greater benefits upon him […].” The crowd then proceeds to go into “a great tumult and uproar (Tierney, doc. 51).

The reaction of the crowd is not altogether surprising. After all, this event takes place a mere thirty years after the Concordat of Worms (1122), which ‘ended’ the investiture contest. A key feature of papal policies during the Investiture Contest was the assertion that the emperor had derived his authority from the pope. Firstly, in 1075, the Dictatus Papae stipulates that “the Pope may depose Emperors” (Tierney, doc. 26). This particular point is reinforced when Henry opens his letter to the pope by stating that he is “King not by usurpation, but by the pious ordination of God” (Tierney, doc. 30). Then, not only does the presence of reliefs and iconography in Rome representing the pope handing down imperial authority and the kingdom of Italy to Emperor Lothar (Tierney, doc. 51; also doc. 52) become plausible, but the injunction from the legate that “from whom then does he have the empire, if not from our lord the Pope?” (Tierney, doc. 51) would infuriate the assembly. Subsequently, popes argued that, on account of the Donation of Constantine, the imperial dignity was theirs alone, and that they gave it back to Charlemagne (Tierney, doc. 80).

Imperial authority, indeed, does not appear to descend from the pope in the sources. The response of Frederick Barbarossa to the envoys of the City of Rome in June of 1155 attests to the fact that he holds imperial authority from the nobility of ‘the Frank.’ That is, ‘the Frank’ is the sole person who is fit to recover the Empire “clad with in its virtue”, and with “its adornments” (Tierney, doc 49). That is, the German emperors are the natural heirs to the Empire.

Then, the question becomes, who carries that dignity to confer imperial dignity upon a person? Obviously, as mentioned above, the pope believes it is himself who carries that dignity, while the emperor (and probably, by extension his lawyers and nobles)[1] states that: “through election by the princes, the kingdom and the empire are ours alone” (Tierney, doc.52). Frederick’s actions at the diet clearly shows that he supported the outburst, all the while maintaining the royal dignity Hadrian claims he lacked.[2] Indeed, he both saved the lives of the legates by removing them from the room, while responding to the outburst and supporting his nobles by exiling the legates, first to their rooms and then sending them back to Rome (Tierney, doc. 51). Then, there are two different ideas of authority at stake here: first, the pope claims sole authority to nominate emperors, while the emperors stated that they obtained their authority both from their being Franks and from their electors. In other words, papal rhetoric is at odds with the reality of the governance of the empire.

Susan Reynolds may have the key to understanding this problem. Indeed, in her discussion of German Imperial authority, she states quite clearly that there is a distinction between the three holdings of the Emperor, namely his kingdom of Italy and the Imperial government, both of which carry papal sanctioning and the kingdom of the Germans, which have been granted by the electorate.[3] Then, even if the individual parties involved (that is emperor, popes, and magnates) were well aware of the distinctions between the offices, the concentration of the offices around a single person creates a situation which allows for varied forms of legitimization.



[1] Susan Reynolds, Kingdoms and Communities in Western Europe, 2nd Ed (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), esp. pp.319-331. She argues that the theories of imperial kingship arose partially from laws, lawyers and scholars. This shows that the emperor would not have been the only one involved in defining his authority in this way.

[2] The circumstances are different, but Hadrian states twice that the emperor behaves in a different way than “behooved imperial dignity,” first in a letter of 1157, and then again in a letter of 1158. Tierney, docs 50, 53.

[3] Susan Reynolds, Kingdoms and Communities in Western Europe, pp.289-297.

Eudes Rigaud, the Pope and Ecclesiastical Reforms The Implementation of Universal Reforms in a Local Context

Adam J. Davis’ book The Holy Bureaucrat is filled with interesting anecdotes concerning life of the Franciscan archbishop of Rouen, Eudes Rigaud. It would be difficult to respond in a general manner to all of the topics proposed in the book, and so I will focus on the interactions between the papacy and Eudes.[1]

Papal reforms, as we have discussed in previous weeks, was met with varying success from the time of the investiture contest. One the problems clearly was the enforcement of papal policies by local bishops. As an oft quoted (by me) letter of Gregory to Otto of 1074, bishop of Constance, shows, papal orders were not always diligently followed (Tierney, document 25). There is no reason to believe that this was an isolated case. Bruce Venarde demonstrates that in terms of monastic reforms, the impetus for change was not motivated by the papacy but by local preachers, with papal support being ex post facto.[2]

One major problem with papal involvement in local politics stems from accepted papal ideology that the pope was a universal overseer in ecclesiastical matters, as the promulgator of canon law. Indeed, Gregory VII places himself as judge over the enforcement of canon law, while the defendant has the prospect of excommunication (Tierney, document 25). Perhaps more relevant is the opinion of Gregory IX (contemporary to Rigaud) that the pope received imperial dignity from Constantine, and that this authority was subsequently delegated to the emperors after Charlemagne (Tierney, document 80). This opinion is particularly relevant, especially if taken in the context of the revival of revival of Roman law. One key concept is that “whatever the Emperor settles by rescript, or decides in his judicial capacity, or ordains by edicts is clearly a statute” (Tierney, document 48). Hence, the popes claimed absolute authority with respect to Canon Law.

But this totalizing discourse betrays the local reality that, while a bishop was bound to papal judgment, he still could choose what to enforce and what not to enforce, sometimes being at odds with papal opinions. For instance, Eudes’ visitations to his parishioners, which, Davis says, were both uninvited and frequent, were in direct violation of the papal opinion (and hence law by the principle stated above) stated in Romana Ecclesia that the archbishop could not make uninvited visits within his province.[3] The pope tacitly confirmed the prohibition, but Eudes did not cease his visitations, preferring to focus instead on the juridical authority of the bishop in his own diocese over that of the archbishop.[4] Hence, even in the face of direct papal order, the local bishop retained certain liberties.

This last point is not as interesting as the fact that the bishop could choose, in addition to whether, how he would enforce papal orders. Eudes Rigaud highlights this particular point, especially in the context of monastic disciplines. Indeed, both Gregory IX and Innocent III confirmed legislations pertaining to the care of the sick. For them, this meant founding new hospitals.[5] Eudes’ proclivity for charity to the sick has already been demonstrated by Davis in preceding chapters, and indeed, he diligently enforced this particular piece of legislation. However, Eudes chose a slightly different path to enforce the rule. He did not as much found new hospitals as ensure that the hospitals themselves were in working order, providing proper care. That meant ensuring access to physicians, paying attention to the physical needs of the sick, and proper diet for the sick. Then, as Davis ably shows, Eudes’ policing actions and the way he enforced papal legislation were motivated by his Franciscan ideals.[6]

What the study of Davis highlights is the regionalism of reform. That is, the reform of one region is dependent on its own context. However,[7] the region is not isolated from the wider context, either of the French kingdom or of the Papacy. Indeed, papal reforms, though stemming from Rome, were universal in the sense that, according to Roman law, rescripts are equivalent to statutes (see above). Hence, rescripts, like the one solving the aforementioned dispute between Eudes and his bishops, shaped papal reform. Then, the universality of the reform is conditioned by a dialogue between general, and centralized, principles of law, and local circumstances.



[1] Though there are some clearly fascinating topics that I would have loved to discuss, from his intellectual background in Chapter 1, and intellectuals parallels to Aquinas’ views, to his more general economic policies. One question worth raising, however, with respect to Eudes’ policies is this: Some like the archbishop of Canterbury were asked to answer for the alleged poverty vows of the Franciscans, but these criticisms seem to arise out of the necessity of the control Pecham’s spending. Hence, under appropriate expenditures, was there a criticism? In other words, was there a fundamental discrepancy between the handling of money and Franciscan poverty vows? Wasn’t there a distinction between ideal (rule) and practicality (glossing/interpretation)? At a more fundamental level, this begs the question of the integration of spiritual orders within society and the artificial distinction placed on the separation of church and state alluded to by Reynolds in her second edition to Kingdoms and Communities.

[2] Bruce L. Venarde, Women’s Monasticism and Medieval Society (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997), esp. chapter 3.

[3] Adam J. Davis, The Holy Bureaucrat: Eudes Rigaud and Religious Reform in Thirteenth-Century Normandy (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006), pp.57-60. Davis’ initial points in Chapter 3 frame the issue in terms of shifting hierarchies within the church, and the ambiguous place of honorary titles (metropolitan, archbishop) within the church. One question Eudes and his bishops were attempting to answer was “what is the place of the archbishop in the diocese?”

[4] Ibid, p.60.

[5] Ibid, p.79. Davis frames this in the context founding new hospitals.

[6] Ibid, pp.79-82. Eudes’ implementation papal or local legislation was motivated by his intellectual formation. This is especially clear in chapter 1, when the debate over the way in which scholastics should apply their knowledge is discussed. On the one hand, Peter the Chanter argued that scholastic training served a pastoral purpose, whereas Aquinas viewed his intellectual pursuits as reaching the masses by way of clerks. In Chapter 5, there is mention of Guillaume de Saâne’s school in Paris to train clerics from Rouen to become part of the archbishop’s familia. Thus, there is a clear association between intellectual ability/pursuit and local administration.

[7] Davis does well to highlight this objection.