He must have been a man of talent nevertheless, for Charlemagne made him
royal steward and treasurer and intimate friend, and chose him to supervise,
perhaps to design, much of the architecture of this creative reign. Palaces
were built for the Emperor at Ingelheim and Nijmegen; and at Aachen, his
favorite capital, he raised the famous palace and chapel that survived a
thousand dangers to crumble under the shells and bombs of the Second World
War. The unknown architects modeled its plan on the church of San Vitale at
Ravenna, which owed its form to Byzantine and Syrian exemplars; the result
was an Oriental cathedral stranded in the West. The octagonal structure was
surmounted by a circular dome; the interior was divided by a circular
two-storied colonnade, and was “adorned with gold and silver and lamps,
railings and doors of solid bronze, columns and crucibles brought from Rome
and Ravenna,” and a famous mosaic in the dome.
Charlemagne was profusely generous to the Church; at the same time he made
himself her master, and used her doctrines and personnel as instruments of
education and government. Much of his correspondence was about religion; he
hurled scriptural quotations at corrupt officials or worldly clerics; and
the intensity of his utterance forbids suspicion that his piety was a
political pose. He sent money to distressed Christians in foreign lands, and
in his negotiations with Moslem rulers he insisted on fair treatment of
their Christian population.
Bishops played a leading part in his councils, assemblies, and
administration; but he looked upon them, however reverently, as his agents
under God; and he did not hesitate to command them, even in matters of
doctrine or morals. He denounced image worship while the popes were
defending it; required from every priest a written description of how
baptism was administered in his parish, sent the popes directives as
numerous as his gifts, suppressed insubordination in monasteries, and
ordered a strict watch on convents to prevent “whoring, drunkenness, and
covetousness” among the nuns.
In a capitulary of 811 he asked the clergy what they meant by professing to
renounce the world, when “we see some of them laboring day by day, by all
sorts of means, to augment their possessions; now making use, for this
purpose, of menaces of eternal flames, now of promises of eternal beatitude;
despoiling simple-minded people of their property in the name of God or some
saint, to the infinite prejudice of their lawful heirs.” Nevertheless he
allowed the clergy their own courts, decreed that a tithe or tenth of all
produce of the land should be turned over to the Church, gave the clergy
control of marriages and wills, and himself bequeathed two thirds of his
estates to the bishoprics of his realm. But he required the bishops now and
then to make substantial “gifts”to help meet the expenses of the government.
Out of this intimate co-operation of Church and state came one of the most
brilliant ideas in the history of statesmanship: the transformation of
Charlemagne’s realm into a Holy Roman Empire that should have behind it all
the prestige, sanctity, and stability of both Imperial and papal Rome. The
popes had long resented their territorial subordination to a Byzantium that
gave them no protection and no security; they saw the increasing subjection
of the patriarch to the emperor at Constantinople, and feared for their own
freedom. We do not know who conceived or arranged the plan of a papal
coronation of Charlemagne as Roman emperor; Alcuin, Theodulf, and others
close to him had discussed its possibility; perhaps the initiative lay with
them, perhaps with the councilors of the popes.
There were great difficulties in the way: The Greek monarch already had the
title of Roman emperor, and full historic right to that title; the Church
had no recognized authority to convey or transfer the title; to give it to a
rival of Byzantium might precipitate a gigantic war of Christian East
against Christian West, leaving a ruined Europe to a conquering Islam. It
was of some help that Irene had seized the Greek throne (797); now, some
said, there was no Greek emperor, and the field was open to any claimant. If
the bold scheme could be carried through there would again be a Roman
emperor in the West, Latin Christianity would stand strong and unified
against schismatic Byzantium and threatening Saracens, and, by the awe and
magic of the imperial name, barbarized Europe might reach back across
centuries of darkness, and inherit and Christianize the civilization and
culture of the ancient world. On December 26, 795, Leo III was chosen Pope.
The Roman populace did not like him; it accused him of various misdeeds; and
on April 25, 799, it attacked him, maltreated him, and imprisoned him in a
monastery. He escaped, and fled for protection to Charlemagne at Paderborn.
The King received him kindly, and sent him back to Rome under armed escort,
and ordered the Pope and his accusers to appear before him there in the
following year. On November 24, 800, Charlemagne entered the ancient capital
in state; on December 1 an assembly of Franks and Romans agreed to drop the
charges against Leo if he would deny them on solemn oath; he did; and the
way was cleared for a magnificent celebration of the Nativity. On Christmas
Day, as Charlemagne, in the chlamys and sandals of a patricius Romanus,
knelt before St. Peter’s altar in prayer, Leo suddenly produced a jeweled
crown, and set it upon the King’s head.
The congregation, perhaps instructed beforehand to act according to ancient
ritual as the senatus populusque Romanus confirming a coronation, thrice
cried out: “Hail to Charles the Augustus, crowned by God the great and
peace-bringing Emperor of the Romans!” The royal head was anointed with holy
oil, the Pope saluted Charlemagne as Emperor and Augustus, and offered him
the act of homage reserved since 476 for the Eastern emperor. If we may
believe Eginhard, Charlemagne told him that had he known Leo’s intention to
crown him he would not have entered the church. Perhaps he had learned of
the general plan, but regretted the haste and circumstances of its
execution; it may not have pleased him to receive the crown from a pope,
opening the door to centuries of dispute as to the relative dignity and
power of donor and recipient; and presumably he anticipated difficulties
with Byzantium.
