The three estates
Bernard tells us that his subject in the De contemptu mundi is the condemnation of sin and
his purpose is to call sinners back from sin.1
The poem has an additional purpose, namely, to reinforce his cloistered audience
in their choice of a monastic vocation. In the course of the poem, he deals with
all classes of society.
All kinds of people, those of every rank and every estate, work hard to be wicked ... Here is a bishop. Wealthy with his own goods and those of his people, he leads the way. Because of him, there is a heavy burden of sin and his high throne brings him severe punishment. Here is a king. Ranting, tyrannical, he favours some men while oppressing others and, what is worse, he is a lion to the meek, but a lamb to the extortionate. Here is a parish priest. A priest ought to be a helpful path towards goodness, but the path he offers is not helpful but tearful, even for himself. Here is a cleric. He makes the wrong moral choices, he does not control himself, his mind dwells on sinful things. He knows what he ought to do, but he does not do it. He exchanges good for evil. Here is a knight. He bears arms, he rages, he strikes, he brandishes his lance. He walks through the camp, suffocating everything. He is like the horned people of Cyprus. Here is a nobleman. He is puffed up. Since he is fearless himself, he is feared by others. Confident of his power, which is like huge, curved horns, he respects nothing. Here is a judge. His judgements are for sale. He loves money. His decrees are unjust. He helps the rich but he grimly obstructs the poor. Here is a merchant. He travels around the markets at home and overseas. He praises the goods he has to sell. He approves of his own goods, but he rejects yours and so he cheats you. Here is a farmer. He sows and gathers crops. He hides the first fruits and avoids paying his tithes, saving himself money.2
After
that brief introduction, Bernard says he will proceed to deal with each of the
characters in greater detail,3 and he continues
with descriptions of the bishop, the king, the parish priest, the cleric, the
knight, the judge, the merchant and the farmer.
Money has darkened the hearts of our bishops. Their use of money shows that their hearts are lacking in compassion. We used to be able to count on our bishops. They used to have integrity. The bishop's office gave him status. But nowadays, order is collapsing, and the bishop's status is collapsing too. His title "Pontiff" means that he ought to make himself a bridge across the sea from this world into heaven, but he has made himself instead a road to hell for all people. If I did not realise that we ought to treat the giving and receiving of information as a serious matter, I could tell you a thing or two about bishops. But I will keep silent. Bishops have glory, pomp, pride of wealth, but none of them nowadays takes care to be a bridge for souls. In the exercise of his office, the bishop does not bind and loose according to his instructions [Matthew 16.19], but he does it for money. For money he tears down or builds up.4
The man who has attained kingship, the highest level of government, becomes a hostile robber and his behaviour becomes tyrannical. He is a king only in name, a ruler only in appearance. He has the mind of a tyrant. He treats the citizens badly, but criminals well, and himself best of all. Under his government, no encouragement is given to honest rule; it becomes a road to riches. He does not avenge the crimes of the vultures who feed on the poor.5 He disdains to take up arms, as he should do, to protect his poor people against their exploiters and to shield them from the enemies they fear. The strength of both ecclesiastical and civil authority has been undermined by the prevalence of deceitful behaviour. There is discord between Church and State, their two swords fear nothing, and so the rights of both kings and bishops are trampled on. God's law is not heard, yet the king's sword lies still. Sin, the death of the soul, flourishes, yet the Church's sword trembles. With nobody to defend them, the people are oppressed by a tyrant, torn to pieces, destroyed by crime, attacked by the enemy, burned by fire. The ecclesiastical power does not rescue them from the deadly sins within them, nor does the civil power rescue them from their external enemies.6
The man who, as a parish priest, stands in the front line of the battle is ill-prepared to combat sin. He completes his priestly duties as quickly as possible. Lust has debilitated him. The priest's housekeeper7 is as closely intimate with him as a sister. She calls him "Father." She it is who puts him to bed and looks after him. She provides the customary services. When he has a headache, she is sorry for him. She buys his food, looks after him and is responsive to his moods. She cherishes her master. She supports him, listens to him, loves him and fears him. She is late going to bed, and she frequently sends the servant outside. He is called a priest, but he is not an ornament to his profession. Alas! He takes the sins of his people and incorporates them in himself. He has an inadequate appreciation of the way he should be holding sacred what is holy and useful for salvation. He does not know what holiness is. He is a mere cardboard cut-out of a priest. His lips are not innocent of lust; they are not worthy to receive the body and blood of Christ. His people, bereft of spiritual guidance, imitate the behaviour of their teacher.8
The cleric, who is a cleric only in name, pursues his life in the select ranks of the clergy.9 He is conspicuous for seeming to be important. Publicly, he is full of enthusiasm, but he is indolent in pursuit of the vocation to which he has been called. He is a cleric in name, but his actions show him to be a courtier. You can see him, in a manner not at all according to the rules of his estate, hastening to attend the palace, involving himself in turbulent affairs of state and public business and civic matters. Not only that, but he even takes up arms and fights, sword against sword. The cleric chooses to lead troops, to join battle, to be considered a knight. He disobeys the rule that the clergy ought to be free from worldly concerns.10
The brutal knight plunders the poor. He robs them, torments them, makes captives of them, makes them work hard. He dominates them and oppresses them, and sinks his teeth into all of them everywhere. Not only does he fail to govern properly the peasants in his care and protect them with his sword, but he also drives them away with blows. He burns the fields and grinds down the workers. He makes his living by plunder, and he wickedly enriches some at the expense of others. He fights in the service of evil, he pursues evil ends, he sweats at evil work. The knight is more devastating than fire, more rapacious than any bird of prey, more ferocious than a tiger and more injurious than a destructive conflagration. Distinguished by his noble lineage, he adopts a fierce demeanour among his fellow soldiers, although the respect he enjoys derives rather from his family than from himself. He is given command, he leads his troops. As far as facial characteristics are concerned, he looks like his ancestors, but he is not a bit like them as far as his deeds are concerned. His lineage is noble. His guilt is reprehensible.11
The judge worships money. For the sake of money, he makes corrupt judgements. If your crimes get you into trouble, money gets you free and buys the silence of the law. Money controls everything. Wealth atones for wickedness. Money buys the silence of the law. If you behave rapaciously like a wolf, you have only to pay enough and you will be regarded as a lamb. Through bribery you can attain the highest office, even though by law you should be burned at the stake. If you are wealthy, you do not need to run away from the law. The magistrate will be kind to you. By bribery you will enable him to forget the duties of his office. He demands money. He sells his oratory for money. He degrades himself, and so the law becomes subject to him, not man to the law. Look at the amount of harm that bribery does, how many good deeds it scuttles. What folly! See how quickly evil wins and justice loses, as soon as the judge gets his payment. He choses evil and rejects justice for a fistful of dollars. See how he makes his judgements without regard for the evidence or for the law. Money, not the Theodosian code, is what he is interested in.12
Nearly all the merchant's business transactions are fraudulent. He buys and sells money. Sometimes he raises his prices, sometimes he lowers them. He barters goods. He travels through the dark and the cold, over mountains, from market place to market place. He travels overseas. He is captured by bandits. His enemies attack him. Winter wears him out; summer scorches him. After he has been captured, he goes away destitute and whistles his way empty handed past robbers. When he has built up his wealth again, he hastens off to Babylon. He returns home, bringing the latest news and new wares. He cheats you when he buys your goods. He uses his own scales rather than yours.13
The plodding farmer is dishonest and envious. He ploughs his fields, and is always claiming that his neighbour's unploughed land belongs to him. In order to steal that land, he is quick with his barefaced lies, so he is involved in many quarrels and law suits. The farmer stores barley and wheat in his barns. He builds huge barns and stores large quantities of grain. God provides for him liberally, but he is unwilling to pay tithes either of his cattle or of his crops. He does not pay his proper share of tithes to the Church.14
The
purpose of these thumbnail sketches of persons pursuing various callings is, as
Bernard says, to lament over their shortcomings. "Every class, every rank, every
estate strives for every kind of wickedness."15
Each social or occupational class, in failing to fulfil its proper functions,
fails in its duty to the other classes. Implicit in Bernard's treatment of the
estates is the concept of their interdependence, and of the dependence of the
state and social order upon the proper performance of their functions by the
members of the estates. That is why "The face of the whole world is so
contaminated by sin that not even a child can escape corruption."16
Estates satire has
generally been associated with the later middle ages and the Renaissance rather
than with the twelfth century, and with the vernacular literatures rather than
with Latin. Ruth Mohl, for example, pays little attention to the Latin
literature of the estates of the world. In her study of the three estates in
medieval and Renaissance literature, she devotes a scant thirteen pages to the
Latin origins of estates literature.17 The
earliest Latin example she gives is the anonymous poem De diversis ordinibus hominum, which, since it mentions the friars,
must be later than 1210.18 The examples from
Bernard of Morlaix were quoted at length above, in order to show that estates
satire was fully developed by the middle of the twelfth century, and that it was
developed in Latin.
Bernard's gallery includes
examples of all three of the principal estates. The clergy, whose function is to
pray and to minister to the spiritual needs of society, are represented by the
bishop, the parish priest and the cleric. The noble warriors, whose function is
to uphold justice, protect the weak and defend the church, are represented by
the king, the knight, the nobleman and the judge. The workers, whose labour
provides for the physical needs of themselves and of the other two estates, are
represented by the merchant and the farmer. But estates literature is not
limited to classes of persons who clearly belong to one of the three estates.
One of the earliest examples of the genre is the Praeloquia of Bishop Rather of Verona, written about the middle of the
tenth century. In the first of the six books of the Praeloquia, Rather deals with Christians, knights, craftsmen, doctors,
merchants, advocates, judges, witnesses, public ministers, noblemen, hired
employees and vassals, counsellors, lords, serfs, teachers, pupils, rich people,
people of moderate income, and beggars. In the second book, he deals with men,
women, husbands, wives, celibates, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters,
widows, virgins, little children, boys, adolescents and old people. In the third
book, he deals with kings.19 Many of these (for
example, Christians, witnesses, men and women, husbands and wives, mothers and
fathers, sons and daughters, children and old people) have no relation to the
estates categories, but they all have responsibilities toward the body politic
and they are commonly included in estates literature.
The clergy are absent from Rather's catalogue, although they feature very
largely in later estates literature. The De diversis
ordinibus hominum, for example, deals with popes, cardinals, kings, abbots,
monks, friars, knights, rich men, clerics, priests, burghers, merchants, farmers
and poor men. Much of the anticlerical literature of the twelfth century (which
is dealt with below) may be said to belong to the genre of estates satire. Jill
Mann points out that estates satire can play a more or less dominant role in a
wide variety of literary forms. "The justification for making no discrimination
... between works differing in literary form, is the empirical observation that
the estates material they draw on is of the same type and very often
identical."20 Bernard has a great deal more to say about the clergy than is indicated in
the explicitly estates related passages quoted above. His complaints about
popes, bishops and priests are discussed below. Here, it may be worth while to
draw attention to Bernard's description of the papal nuncio.
You [the Pope] send abroad men who tarnish the honour of the Church. The only thing they are enthusiastic about is taking bribes. The man you send demands perquisites. It is not the salvation of the world but good food and a soft bed that he is after. From his childhood, he was accustomed to travel on foot. Here in France, he goes about in a carriage, like a knight. He used to be quite happy to walk unattended. Now he rides high like a knight and he has a mounted escort. He is a counsellor, a nuncio, a legate a latere. As your papal representative, he has precedence over everybody. He brings here the decrees of the book of the synod. The bishop's palace, filled with his guests and his retinue, groans. The clergy can scarcely feed his retinue's horses with oats. In Rome he wore a goatskin. Here in France, he wears a silken cloak. In Rome, he went in foot. Here in France, he rides lazily on horseback. The people flock to meet him. To them he is a glorious sight. The city hums, the trumpet sounds, the choir of the clergy sings for him. He is conducted into the bishop's chambers and reclines at his ease. He orders wine. He receives crowds of people, exchanges greetings, calls the council and takes his place on his seat on the dais. He wheels and deals to increase his power and position. He listens benevolently to wickedness but turns a deaf ear to justice, because there is money to be made out of a guilty cause, but no profit from innocence.21
Like
Bishop Rather, Bernard also describes women, and much of his comment on them is
within the scope of estates satire.22 He deals
extensively with rich men and poor men, especially in his lengthy disquisition
on the theme of Dives and Lazarus.23 And there
are elements of estates satire throughout the De octo
vitiis, where Bernard's account of each sin is illustrated by a description
of the typical sinner. But not all castigation of sin can be called estates
satire. Bernard's treatment of prostitutes, for example, does not properly fall
into the category of estates satire, because prostitutes do not, in Bernard's
view, form a class with duties which contribute to the well being of the
community, and which are associated with temptations and failings which affect
the three estates.24 Similarly, his descriptions
of homosexuals, though they show some of the characteristics of estates satire,
do not really fit in the genre. Bernard does not regard homosexuals as a class
of people in any sense relevant to the three estates.25
Bernard's treatment of his characters is
different from Rather's. Bernard is concerned to show how wicked the world has
become and to illustrate that wickedness by pointing up the failures of the
three estates. There are a few exceptions. He tells us not only what bad bishops
do, but also what a good bishop ought to do. He should protect the weak, the
young and the poor. He should build barricades (claustra) to protect his flock.
He should punish sin. He should rebuke, censure, entreat, instruct and help
people. He should be holy.26 Similarly, he
describes the duties of a rich man. He should assist the injured, the sick and
the meek. He should give generously, giving himself to God and his wealth to the
poor.27 But positive treatment of the estates is
rare in Bernard's poems. By contrast, it is the whole point of Rather's Praeloquia.
Are you a doctor? Listen to what Our Lord told you: "Physician, heal thyself." (Luke 4,23). That is, while you are curing the bodily sickness of others, make sure that you minister to any sickness in your own spiritual life ... You must be fully aware of the difference between light and darkness, truth and falsehood, the works of the devil and the blessings of God. Think about what pertains to medicine and what pertains to the tricks of sorcerers. It is the proper work of the doctor to make use, in God's name, of potions and herbs and the various kinds of things found in God's creation, which the expertise of the most skilled physicians, inspired by God, have discovered. But divination, incantations and other superstitious and profane observances belong to astrologers and wizards ...28
Are you a teacher? Remember that you owe it to your students to discipline them with love, following the example of him who is the teacher of us all, who chastises and corrects those whom he loves (Proverbs 3,12) and who used to call his disciples not his servants but his friends (John 15,15). You owe it to your students to correct their mistakes by word and by the cane, but you should do it in such a way that you honour your obligation to foster the development of those who make mistakes by loving them. Are you a pupil? You ought to realise that you should obey your teachers ... Are you a teacher? Teach what you know with humility. Are you a pupil? Learn eagerly what you do not yet know ...29
Rather
presents a series of homilies, addressed explicitly to the various classes of
people upon whom he wished to impress the importance of their duties. Bernard
presents a series of descriptions of various classes of people, in which he sets
out the extent to which they are failing to fulfil their responsibilities.
Rather's homilies, written from the point of view of the clerical estate, are
addressed to the other two estates, and none of them is addressed to the clergy.
Bernard's descriptions, addressed to a monastic audience, comprise all three
estates.
The element of description or portraiture is
lacking from Rather's homilies. By contrast, it is important in Bernard's satire
and is essential to his purpose, because he wishes to illustrate the wickedness
of the world through the wickedness of all classes of people. Bernard inherited
a classical tradition of literary description or portraiture. According to
Cicero, the characteristics by which we might describe a person are: name,
nature (that is, sex, race, nationality, lineage, age; physical characteristics
such as strength, height, comeliness; mental characteristics such as quickness
of intelligence, ability to remember and so forth), manner of life (that is
education, friends and associates, business and professional affairs, family
affairs and so forth), fortune (that is, free or slave, rich or poor, powerful
or humble, number of children and so forth), acquired character and talents,
sensibility, interests, purposes and conduct (which includes what a person does,
what is done to him and what he says).30 Horace
advises would-be playwrights that they should take trouble to get the attributes
of their characters right. "If the character's words are not consonant with his
station in life, the Roman knights and the common people will raise a laugh at
his expense."31 He goes on to give examples of
types of character (slaves,32 heroes, old men,
young men, upper class ladies, busy nurses, much-travelled merchants, farmers,
Cholchians, Assyrians, Thebans, Argives). A playwright, he says, can take
existing characters, in which case their attributes must accord with literary
tradition. Achilles, for example, must be indefatigable, wrathful, inexorable
and impetuous. Or he can invent new characters, in which case their attributes
must be internally consistent and dramatically relevant.33 He must give particular attention to those attributes which are
characteristic and proper for each stage of life.34
Both Cicero and Horace were thinking of
description of characters for a particular literary purpose, in Cicero's case,
oratory, in Horace's case, drama. But their advice seems appropriate also to the
purposes of estates satire, and was so interpreted in the twelfth century, when
both Cicero's work and Horace's work were well known, along with Quintilian's Institutio oratoria.35 Matthew of Vendome, in his Ars versificatoria, written about 1175, devotes the
whole of the first of his three books to the art of writing descriptions. He
says that "one should describe not only the qualities which a person has but
also those qualities which differentiate that person from others." He goes on to
refer to both Horace and Cicero, and to take the characters which Horace gives
as examples, and to put them into Cicero's categories.36
Ruth Mohl identifies four characteristics of
estates literature. The first is that of enumerating or cataloguing the estates
of the world. The second is lament over the shortcomings of the various estates;
not doctrinaire generalising about vices and virtues, but an outspoken account
of specific faults. Each estate fails in its duty to the rest. Along with the
enumeration of the shortcomings of the estates goes the third characteristic of
estates satire, namely a philosophy of the divine ordination of the three
estates and of the dependence of the state upon all three. The last
characteristic is an attempt to find remedies for the defections of the three
estates.37
All these
characteristics, as is illustrated above, are present in the work of Bernard of
Morlaix. The element of portraiture, which became a major characteristic of
later estates literature, is not included in Ruth Mohl's list of
characteristics. It is, however, significantly present in Bernard's work, even
if it lacks the particularity, especially in regard to description of physical
traits, which is found in Langland or Chaucer.
Estates
satire was, in fact, fully developed in the Latin literature of the twelfth
century and handed over to the vernacular literatures as a going concern. The
passages from Bernard's poems, quoted above, show his mastery of the genre and
bear comparison with the estates satire of Chaucer, Langland or Lindsay. But
Bernard's most extensive and most stringent criticism is directed particularly
to the clergy.
The first estate
Bernard's' complaint about the first estate is a kind of anticlericalism.
The term "anticlerical" is relatively new.38 In
its original usage, "anticlericalism" meant a particular form of opposition to
the church which, in the nineteenth century, developed into a definite movement
with a distinctive program. That movement was seen as originating in the period
of the Enlightenment, and its major characteristics included rationalism,
secularism and liberalism.39
In its predominant
usage, "anticlericalism" denotes both an ideology and a program. It had a
religious aspect, to the extent that it supported "natural religion" as opposed
to established or formal structures. It had a political aspect, as an element of
European republicanism. In this sense, it was not necessarily anti-religious.
Rather, it was strongly opposed to involvement of the Catholic clergy in
politics and in secular affairs generally. It had an ideological aspect, as part
of a rationalist, secularist, freethinking, humanist tradition, emerging from
the Enlightenment. In this last sense, it was clearly anti-religious. In all
senses, it had connotations of anti-Catholicism, with which it sometimes appears
to be almost synonymous.40 Alec Mellor
distinguishes that kind of anticlericalism from what he calls
"l'anticlericalisme interieur." By that he means the hostility of a Christian
who is not in holy orders towards clerics, whether secular or regular.41
That is essentially the
kind of anticlericalism which existed in the middle ages, although medieval
anticlericalism had the distinctive feature that paradoxically, on surviving
evidence, it was expressed predominantly by clerics. It has little in common
with the anticlericalism of the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries,
which is secular and anti-religious. It is true that Felicite Robert de
Lamennais propounded some views which were expressed also by the anticlericals
who followed him, notably separation of Church and State. But Lamennais was
anticlerical in the medieval rather than the modern sense, though that was,
understandably, not appreciated in his day. He was never excommunicated, but his
views were condemned by Gregory XVI in the encyclicals Mirari vos and Singulari nos.42 Closely related to
anticlericalism throughout the middle ages were the issues of relations between
church and state and of relations between the papacy and local churches.43
The distinction outlined
above, between modern or secular anticlericalism and medieval or Christian
anticlericalism, should not be allowed to hide differences between anticlerical
attitudes, behaviour and literature at different periods. Wendy Scase, for
example, has explored the special features of anticlericalism in Piers plowman, and such detailed studies, relating anticlericalism
to contemporary events and debate rather than to historical antecedents and
perspectives, are indispensable.44 Each age has
its own realisation and expression of anticlericalism, and particular studies of
those differences are important. But it is especially important to distinguish
between the anticlericalism of the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth
centuries on the one hand, and that of the middle ages on the other.45
In the twelfth century,
anticlericalism was not a program with precisely defined objectives. For the
most part, that is true also of the later middle ages, though Dante's criticism
of the papacy was related to a theoretical position which might be called a
political program. Even more strikingly, Marsilius of Padua developed a theory
of the state in which the ecclesiastical power is totally subordinate to the
civil power. C.W. Previte-Orton points out that "the modern, secular character
of this creation has often been stressed."46 But
the "universitas civium fidelium," of Marsilius is not the secular state. It is
much more like the church. Marsilius is talking about a Christian state, which
is in his view the community of the faithful. If the state is not Christian, the
ecclesiastical power is not, according to Marsilius, subject to it. When
Christians, both clerical and lay ("tam sacerdotes quam non-sacerdotes"), live
in a secular state ("sub infidelibus legislatoribus"), they must manage
ecclesiastical affairs independently of the state.47 The anticlericalism of Marsilius, like that of Dante, is
"anticlericalisme interieur." His political program, and his theory of relations
between church and state, bear little resemblance to those of the anticlericals
of the nineteenth century.48
Gerald Strauss points out that what, for our purposes, we may want to call
"anticlericalism" in the middle ages was, at the time, a bundle of unorganised
perceptions on the part of ordinary people, perceptions expressed in attitudes
and externalized as a certain kind of behaviour, but never asserted as
principled opposition to a sacerdotal presence in the community. "Whether a
particular word or deed is `anticlerical' or not is therefore a function of our judgment, not of theirs."49
The ecclesiastical evil which Bernard of
Morlaix castigates most severely is Simony, and he directs his satire mostly at
Rome.
Nowadays anybody can acquire the gifts of heaven for money. They are wicked fools, both those who sell and those who buy. The grace of God bids us to give these gifts freely, without secular intervention, in order to prevent trafficking in holy things. Alas! The Devil attacks everywhere through the highest levels of the Church. First he captures the pastors, then he takes the flock, attacking from both sides ... Simon Magus is still alive50 and he wanders and strays about in the world he has made his own. He lives and he threatens to sow evil seeds and weed out good growth, to lead people astray, to encourage unholiness, to drive out holiness ... God's grace cannot be its proper self, because the disciples of Giezi51 demand payment when they bestow it. Simon Magus dies with his money,52 Giezi takes money. Both are unspeakable. Simon is repulsed and Giezi is stricken with leprosy. The death of the one and the [corrupt] complexion of the other survive to cling to all those who have guilty souls because they seek advancement through worldly wealth.53
Simony
originally meant only the sale of ordination by a bishop, but by the middle of
the ninth century it had already come to mean the sale of benefices generally,
whether by clerics or laymen. Well before Bernard's time, it had become one of
the greatest abuses of the Church. The social, intellectual and economic decline
which accompanied the collapse of the Carolingian Empire was accompanied by a
broadening feudalism. There was very little in common between feudal concepts
and Christianity, and the two made ill bed-fellows. Nevertheless, feudal
concepts infiltrated the hierarchical structure of the Church. "Benefices and
episcopal sees fell under lay control and were frequently treated as purely
feudal holdings."54 Problems of lay investiture
and of Simony were tackled, with some success, by Pope Gregory VII
(1073-1085)55 but they remained a lively subject
of complaint literature throughout the middle ages.56
After a denunciation of the clergy generally
because they neglect their flocks, Bernard accuses "Rome, the prince of pastors"
of wickedly encouraging those delinquent pastors.
Rome, the Forum of our ancestors, awards honours for a price. Rome, which ought to lead the world, deservedly falls back to the last place. Rome is no longer a role model, because it has let money defeat it.57
The
satirical derivation of "Roma" from "rodo manus" occurs "with tiresome
frequency"58 in medieval anticlerical satire.
Bernard's version of the cliche is:
Roma manus rodit sicut dupla silliba prodit.59
Rome bites the hand that feeds it, the two syllables of the name "Roma" being derived from "rodo" [I eat] and "manus" [hand]. Rome bites and digs out money and is very unhappy if it cannot ... Rome ignores anybody who appeals to it without offering bribes, whatever he does. The halls of Rome are forbidden to sheep who have no wool ... Rome drinks the treasure of Croesus and dines on gold sterling. It never says, "That's enough." It is always, "The case is still sub judice." Rome thirsts for wealth, gobbles it down, loves it. "If you pay, I will give you the best," it cries. Rome is said to be like a wheel, because it turns and is turned."60
This
is one of several occasions on which Bernard relates the terms "Roma" and
"rota".
Ut rota Roma datur, quoniam rotat atque
rotatur.61
Ut rota labitur, ergo vocabitur hinc rota Roma.62
Uncia te rotat, uncia te notat, haud fore Romam.63
Roma ruens rota,
foeda satis nota cauteriat te.64
These lines look very much like punning references to the Rota Romana, but
cannot be if the historians of the Rota are right about the date of its
establishment.65
Bernard
has much more of the same kind, rehearsing the commonplaces of anticlerical
complaint directed toward the Papacy.
"Est radix omnis meroris avaricie vis" [The power of avarice is the root of all grief]. Significantly, if you take the first letter of the four middle words, you get the name "Roma". If you invert the letters, "Roma" becomes "amor." Would that Rome's love were not the love of money but the love of goodness!66
Bernard's satirical verses about the power of money at the Papal court and
the abuses of Papal power are lengthy and repetitive. In large part, they
represent no kind of original inspiration but rather an anthology of standard
themes, images and cliches which were very common in the literature of his
time.
If you give money, you are likely to receive papal favour. If you don't, you won't. That is the law at Rome; that is what they teach.67
If Croesus were to give you all his wealth, it would not fill your belly. Nowadays your god is not Jesus, but gold and silver.68
If I were to say that Rome has dropsy [is swollen with Simoniacal gain] would I be wrong? The more wealth Rome gobbles up, the more it wants. As Jugurtha said, wealth is the ruin of Rome.69
Some
of Bernard's contemporaries did this kind of thing much better. An outstanding
example is Walter of Chatillon (who secures twenty-two pages of the Oxford book of medieval Latin verse, compared with
Bernard's five.70) His Propter Sion non tacebo71 says nothing
that is not also said in Bernard's verses, but Walter's polemic against the
Roman Curia makes more effective use of the same cliches and the same classical
and other imagery. It would be presumptuous to offer here a translation of
verses which Helen Waddell "tried to translate and could not."72 The following sketch of a smooth, worldly, unctuous cardinal
may serve to illustrate Walter's brilliance:
Dulci cantu blandiuntur
ut Sirenes et loquunter
primo quaedam dulcia:
"frare, ben je te cognosco,
certe nichil a te posco,
nam tu es de francia.
Terra vestra bene cepit
in portu concilii.
et benigne nos recepit
nostri estis, nostri - cuius?
sacrosancte sedis huius
speciales filii.
Nos peccata relaxamus
et laxatos collocamus
sedibus ethereis.
nos habemus Petri leges
ad ligandos omnes reges
in manicis ferreis."73
It was
not only in verse that the twelfth century expressed its disapproval of the
Papacy. Walter Map has the following:
Hoc enim nomen Roma ex avaricie sueque diffinicionis formatur principiis, fit enim ex R, et O, et M, et A, et diffinicio cum ipsa, "radix omnium malorum avaritia".74
John
of Salisbury reports the popular estimation of the Pope and the Roman Curia as
follows:
For it was said by many that the Roman Church, which is the mother of all churches, presented itself not so much like a mother as like a stepmother of the others. Scribes and Pharisees sit within Rome, placing upon the shoulders of men insupportable burdens with which they themselves do not dirty their own fingers. They are lords over the clergy, and they do not become the models who lead the flock down the correct path of life; they accumulate valuable furnishings, they pile up gold and silver at the bank, even economising too much in their own expenses out of avarice. For the pauper is either never or rarely allowed in ... They deliver justice not for the sake of truth but for a price. For indeed, everything done immediately comes at a price; but you will not obtain anything at some future date without a price either ... But even the Roman pontiff himself is burdensome and almost intolerable to everyone, since all assert that, despite the ruins and rubble of churches (which were constructed by the devotion of others) and also the neglect of altars, he erects palaces and parades himself about not only in purple vestments but in gilded clothes. The palaces of priests glitter and in their hands the Church of Christ is demeaned. They pick clean the spoils of the provinces as if they wanted to recover the treasures of Croesus.75
Gerald
of Wales reports similar opinions. He offers the same cliches as Bernard
(Sallust's quotation of Jugurtha on Roman venality, and puns like "Roma manus
rodit", and so forth).76 He has a few that
Bernard does not, like "ablativo Latini utuntur quo Graeci carent."77 He reports such opinions at great length and with
obvious relish, and argues, with Welsh irony, that the successors of the
Apostles are unjustly insulted and calumniated, as great men have been before
them.78
Anti-papal prose often
takes the form of parody. For example, the following Gospel according to the silver mark:
At that time, the Pope said to the Romans, "When the son of man comes to the seat of our majesty, first say, `Friend, why have you come?' But if he continues knocking without giving you anything, throw him out into the outer darkness." And it came to pass that a certain poor cleric came to the Curia of the Lord Pope and cried out, saying, "Do you, at least, have mercy on me, you doorkeepers of the Pope, for the hand of poverty has touched me. I am indeed needy and poor. Therefore, I beg you to come to my aid." But when they heard him they were exceeding angry, and they said, "Friend, you and your poverty can go to hell. Get thou behind me, Satan, because you do not smell of money. Amen, amen, I say to you, you shall not enter into the joy of your lord [the Pope] until you pay your last farthing." So the poor man went away and sold his coat and his shirt and everything he owned and gave it to the cardinals and doorkeepers and chamberlains. But they said, "What is this among so many?" They threw him out, and he went off weeping bitterly and inconsolably. Later on, a certain rich cleric came to the Curia. He was gross and fat and swollen, and had committed treacherous murder. He bribed first the doorkeeper, then the chamberlain, then the cardinals. But they put their heads together and demanded more. However, the Lord Pope heard that his cardinals and ministers had been lavishly bribed by the cleric, and he was sick even to death. So the rich man sent him medicine in the form of gold and silver, and straightway he was healed. The Lord pope summoned his cardinals and ministers and said to them, "Brethren, be vigilant lest anyone deceive you with empty words. My example I give unto you, that you might grab just as I grab."79
Lest
anyone suppose that linking the Pope with Satan and Antichrist was peculiar to
Reformation and Protestant anticlericalism, it may be worth mentioning parodies
of the Old and New Testament genealogies.
Cacalogion pape secundum Satanam.
Liber generationis pape, filii diaboli,
novi et veteris testamenti.
Diabolus autem genuit papam.
Papa autem genuit bullam ...
Deceptio autem rustici genuit invidiam, ex qua nata est conspiratio rusticorum, que genuit tumultum, in quo revelatus est filius perditionis, qui vocatur Antichristus. Amen.80
Epigrams, like the following conversation with a Roman janitor, are
common:
Intus quis? Tu Quis? Ego sum. Quid quaeris? Ut intrem.
Fers aliquid? Non. Esto foras. Fero. Quid? Satis. Intra.81
There
is a body of prose writing in which this kind of anticlericalism is expressed,
and there are poems good enough to find a place in the literary anthologies.
Among the latter, in addition to the work of Walter of Chatillon, mentioned
above, may be reckoned the Dic Christi veritas,
which Helen Waddell suggests may be attributed to Philip the Chancellor,82 whom Raby calls "the last great lyrical poet to
write in Latin."83 But the poem is in Carmina Burana,84 and
could well belong to the twelfth century. Even if the attribution is correct,
Philip the Chancellor died in 1236 and it may not be stretching credibility too
far to regard his work as evidence in relation to the twelfth century.
O truth of Christ
O most dear rarity,
O most rare Charity,
Where dwell'st thou now?
In the valley of Vision?
On Pharoah's throne?
On high with Nero?
With Timon alone?
In the bulrush ark
Where Moses wept?
Or in Rome's high places
With lightning swept?
With the lightning of Bulls,
And a thundering judge,
Summoned, accused,
Truth stands oppressed,
Torn asunder and sold,
While Justice sells her body in the street.
Come and go and come again
To the Curia, and when
Stripped to the last farthing, then
Leave the judgment seat.
Then Love replied,
"Man, wherefore didst thou doubt?
Not where thou wast wont to find
My dwelling in the southern wind;
Not in court and not in cloister,
Not in casque nor yet in cowl,
Not in battle nor in Bull,
But on the road to Jericho
I come with a wounded man."85
In
addition to the large body of antipapal writing which has some claim to literary
merit, there is a vast corpus of material which is pedestrian, conventional and
repetitive.
Roma capit marcas, bursas exhaurit et arcas;
Ut tibi tu parcas, fuge papas et patriarchas! ...
Roma manus rodit; quas rodere non valet, odit.86
The
themes and the images constantly recur, and many of them were well established
before the twelfth century. M. Edelestand du Meril, for example, prints a satire
against the Court of Rome, in which Queen Pecunia, along with Simony and Leprous
Giesia, holds court in Rome.
Hic erit mea requies; hic stabat mea facies;
Hic figam sedem stabilem inter plebem amabilem.87
The bishops have lost their strength and firmness of purpose. Their hands are guilty, their thoughts turn to evil, their words encourage sin of both word and deed. The bishops have failed and the house of God is dishonoured ... They do not castigate the wickedness of the aristocracy. They are lenient towards those who are proud of their lineage and rolling in money. They bend the rules for the gentry and the aristocracy ... They are afraid to preach justice, to condemn wickedness, to purge iniquities, to denounce corruption. They are afraid to search out and give help to the sick and the disadvantaged. Intimidated by threats and aggressive actions, they are afraid to excommunicate those who clearly deserve it ... They do not teach God's truth to their hungry flock.90
Bernard writes of mutual hostility between clergy and laity: "cleris
laici, cleri laicis inimici."91 His chief
complaint against the clergy is that they are unscrupulously greedy for wealth
and that they neglect the souls put in their care.
The fathers of the Church pay no attention to doctrine. They do not heed the lessons of Rachel and Leah, or of Martha and Mary, but they pay great heed to avarice and worldly honours and Simony. There are numberless Simons in many places. Like robbers, they steal your goods if you do not hand them over quickly. Giezi is dead, but his followers flourish. The priests of the temple ... are quite happy to be ministers of the belly, not of Christ ... The abbot and the bishop speak soothing words, but both of them are unscrupulous in their deeds.92
General accusations of this kind repeat without much change the charges of
venality and failure in pastoral duty which were levelled at Rome, and they were
equally common. For example, the following, one of many such, from the Carmina Burana:
Nowadays, the bishops are under the sway of death. They are unwilling to administer the sacraments without payment, as they promised they would when they were appointed. Their good intentions have vanished. Now that they hold their appointments securely, they break their sacred oaths ... They are law breakers, not law givers.93 They are destroyers of God's law. Simony is rife among them and makes great men out of sinners.94
And
the following, from Analecta hymnica:
Jam praelati sunt Pilati,
Judae successores,
Pium rati, Christum pati,
Caiphae fautores.95
Bernard of Morlaix also castigates particular clerical abuses, like the
consecration as bishops of men who are below the canonical age or morally
unfit.
It is often the case that episcopal ceremonies are conducted by a man newly ordained, a mere boy, who carries a load of guilt ... He scarcely yet is able to grow a beard on his cheeks. He does not know himself and cannot govern himself. Can he possibly give you spiritual guidance? A host of newly ordained priests secure ecclesiastical appointments because they have purchased them. This kind of venality is now the accepted practice in royal households today, and soon it will have the approval of our bishops. Just look! A man who was just a courtier this morning is now a tonsured cleric.96
Priests as well as bishops are the object of Bernard's satire.
"Good morning, Father" is always a sweet sound to the ears [of parish priests]. They do not urge their congregation to repent sincerely, but rather to pretend to do so. They do not seek the salvation of souls, but rather to be seen as having prestigious positions in the church. They want to sit at the high table, to wear the most sumptuous vestments.97
Parish priests who are not chaste, who have milked their parishioners for every penny they can get, and who have not fed and cared for the hungry, will be food for the fire, because they never showed any sign of repentance. They did not take care to preserve their own chastity or that of others, but made others as sinful and wicked as themselves. They carry a double load of guilt, so they will suffer a double punishment.98
Among
the wittiest as well as the bitterest of the attacks on the ecclesiastical
hierarchy in the twelfth century is the Apocalypse of
Golias, which is discussed below, in the context of allegory, on p.327 ff.
The Apocalypse of Golias is an extended,
sophisticated poem, in which the anticlerical theme is worked out through a
coherent story. Somewhat similar in those respects, and a great deal longer, is
the Speculum stultorum of Nigel Longchamps, which is
an elaborate story, incorporating a number of fables for change of pace, about a
donkey called Brunellus who is unhappy about the length of his tail. Nigel's
anticlerical satire, woven into the narrative, is the usual stuff:
Praesul amat marcum plus quam distinguere Marcum,
plus et amat lucrum quam sapuisse Lucam.99
If you ask what keeps the bishop busy in the city, it is his preparations to go hunting in the woods with his hounds, or to go hawking, or to go fishing ... If [our bishops] were to suffer for Our Lord what they suffer for the sake of these worldly matters and these fleeting pleasures, there would be no doubt that, while still alive and in the flesh, they would be equal to God's saints and martyrs.100
In a
more serious mode, Gerald of Wales, in Gemma
ecclesiastica, collects texts of Scripture, sayings of the Fathers of the
Church and other evidence, including classical authorities, to prove that there
should be "absolutely no material rewards for spiritual duties".101 He argues against any kind of temporal gain from
spiritual offices and deplores Simony in any form. He offers a great deal of
anecdotal evidence about the vices of the higher clergy and how episcopal
officials tyrannise parochial clergy for the sake of gain. He gives many
examples of the ignorance of the clergy,102
which he claims is made worse by unintelligent study of law and logic.103
Clerical unchastity was
a common object of satire. There are several poems couched as complaints about
requirements for celibacy of priests.
The clerics and priests met together recently, very upset. They said, "The bishop wants to take away our housekeepers.104 What argument should we produce against it?" ... [They present, in burlesque fashion, Scriptural and other arguments, leading to a conclusion based on the supposed three orders of mankind.] "We clerics will have two concubines; monks and canons the same, or perhaps three; deans and bishops four or five. And so, at last, we will fulfil the divine laws."105
Satirical verses form a large part of the Carmina
Burana, and it is not surprising that many of the songs are anticlerical.
The clerical order is despised by the laity. The bride of Christ has become a salable commodity, readily available to everybody. The altars are sold, the eucharist is sold ...106
Many people who nowadays condemn Simon Magus as being worse than the Devil nevertheless encourage Simon's descendants with their flattery. Simon is not dead yet, if he lives on in his descendants.107
Even
Dreves' collection of medieval hymns has plenty of twelfth century examples of
anticlerical verses.
I do not know where to turn when I try to discuss the prelates with strict objectivity. When I think about the virtues of the present day fathers of the Church, so few virtues come to mind that hardly one of the clergy turns out to have merit.108
Look! The sellers of supernatural grace are flourishing. The pastors of the Church are precursors of Antichrist. They are thieves of the Eucharist. Modern successors of Judas, they sell Christ today.109
[From a dialogue between Aristippus and Diogenes.] What do you want, Diogenes? Are you looking for honours and preferment? You must explain that first of all. Those who govern the Church will not look favourably on you unless you involve yourself in their wickedness. The prelates will be pleased with you if you commend their sinful way of life. Our holy bishops like above all those who are accomplices in their crimes and ministers to their iniquity.110
Bernard's criticism of bishops and priests, like his criticism of the
papacy, is thoroughly representative of twelfth century anticlericalism. Satire
was aimed not only at the pope and the Curia, with which relatively few people
came into contact. Equally bitter attacks were directed toward the local
churches, at the episcopal level and at the level of the parish priest. This
criticism, like criticism of the papacy, was commonplace and accepted.
It can be argued that monks, as
such, are not members of the clergy. They are not necessarily even in minor
orders, let alone ordained.111 We speak of the
regular clergy (that is to say, clergy who are subject to a rule, who are
members of a religious order) and secular clergy, but that does not necessarily
entail the clerical status of all monks. And we speak of "lay brothers," but the
distinction is between a lay brother and a choir monk (who performs the opus Dei, the singing of the divine office), not
between a monk who is not a cleric and one who is. Brewer insists that "all
these religious societies were societies of laymen, and not of ecclesiastics."
He upbraids those who jumble together clergy, monks, and friars. "This is as
unpardonable as if they should imagine that the House of Convocation, the
Wesleyan Conference, and the University of Oxford were all parts of the same
body, and together constituted the Church of England."112
But, despite Brewer's strictures,
there is a perfectly respectable usage which admits monks (and even nuns) into
the fold of the clergy. The Catholic dictionary of
1897, for example, states that, in a general sense, "the name of cleric or clerk
is applicable to the whole body of the secular clergy ... also to monks and
nuns, to lay institutes following a religious rule, to hermits leading their
life under authority, to the Knights of Malta, &c."113 In the twelfth century, it was already becoming more and more
common for choir monks to be priests, and in 1311 the Council of Vienne directed
every monk to take priestly orders if bidden by his abbot.114 Monks were often appointed to senior ecclesiastical posts,
including bishoprics.115
Criticism of the church in the twelfth century tended to cover the whole
spectrum of clergy in the broader sense, including monks. In Analecta hymnica, for instance, we find the following:
Vae vobis, quid agitis,
O metropolitani,
Abbates, praepositi,
Canonici, decani?
Vos introistis atria
Sion sub idolatria ...116
In
addition to that general criticism of the clergy, there was also a great deal of
specifically antimonastic writing. The matter is complicated by the controversy
between Cluniacs and Cistercians which raged at that time and which, like all
family squabbles, was bitter. Early examples are found in the letters of Saint
Bernard of Clairvaux,117 and the letters of
Peter the Venerable.118 The dispute itself was
the subject of satirical comment.
The song of the birds and the beauty of the scenery delighted two monks who sat under a lime tree. Drunk with wine, they deregulated the Rule. They paid no heed to any law or to any Lord Abbot. One was a Cistercian, the other a Cluniac. They discussed the insoluble question of which Order was better, which more strictly followed the Rule [of Saint Benedict. There follows a lengthy parody of the controversy between the two Orders. The disputants get more and more heated, until they fall to blows]. I threw myself between them, trying to calm them down and to restrain them with mild words. "Gentlemen! Let Saint Benedict be your consolation. It is on him that you must rely for atonement on the day of judgement. He will calibrate the scales more accurately than you can."119
Bernard of Morlaix has some general complaint about monks. He makes
occasional mention of the inadequacies of abbots, for example, "Quis pater
ordinis est similaginis hostia frissae?"120 And
in the De octo vitiis we find:
Qui promiserunt animas animalia querunt.
Est in tranquilis abbas vel episcopus illis
Verbis sed gestis uterque deest in honestis.121
But
there is no extended treatment of monks, comparable with his treatment of other
estates of society, except the following:
Please believe what I say. No age has been more fruitful than this one in the production of an abundance of false prophets. These Pharisees, in their inner filthiness, are a slippery way, a common doorway to perdition. The mob of hypocrites springs up like a plague and attacks us. They are people of the shadows, with hairy bodies and slippery souls. They have holy names and holy apparel, but their hearts are proud. They look like lambs in monks' habits, but they are snakes in the grass. Their hearts are wanton, even though they present the stern appearance of a Cato. They show a strict face, but their morals are flexible and they are prone to wickedness. In their Order, sheep's clothing covers and disguises their threatening, greedy, wolfish hearts. Their proud hearts, lacking integrity, have an appearance of holiness, but they are unholy in their fruits, they are chambers of squalor. Their heads are tonsured in order to deceive. The wolf pretends to be a lamb; the bramble imitates the rose. For them, the whole of the Rule amounts to unwatered wine and extra meals. For them, unity is a matter for discussion; justice is a pretence; the law is whatever they want to do. Among them there are scandals and disunion; there are no opportunities for refreshment of the soul. The Rule, for them, applies only to their tonsures, not to their deeds. They belong to the Order of scissors and comb and the Rule of the hair!122
Jill
Mann draws attention to the fact that, for those familiar with the controversy
between the Cluniacs and the Cistercians, "il termine pseudo- prophetae e sufficiente a identificare tali ipocrite nei
Cistercensi." She points out that the charges made against the false prophets by
Bernard - that they are wolves in sheep's clothing, arrogant, hypocritical and
greedy - are the familiar accusations made by the Cluniacs against the
Cistercians. She gives examples from the Ysengrimus,
from the Metamorphosis Goliae and from the De nugis curialium of Walter Map.123
Bernard has further things to say
about monks in the De octo vitiis, some of which
have quite general application.
A monk who is heavy with money is like a heavily laden ship. The heavy weight pulls the monk down to the bottom, just as it does the ship. A poor monk is safe. Free from the concerns of the flesh, he seeks heaven. Having nothing, he has everything. He seeks not his own goods but his own good ... 124
He who is moderate at table is also chaste in the night. Just as uncultivated ground produces thorns, so an untamed body brings destruction. An overfull belly brings the danger of sin during sleep. He is a false monk (pseudomonachus) whose law is his belly, whose glory is Bacchus.125
Those
are admonitions to all monks. But, in the middle of a long catalogue of a wide
range of sins, which runs for twenty-nine lines without taking a breath, we find
mention of "the commotion of the Pharisees ... a new, blameworthy breed of
hypocrites, who have white habits but not white souls."126
The reference to the Cistercians
is unmistakable. In a letter to Saint Bernard of Clairvaux in about 1127, Peter
the Venerable wrote of the Cistercians, "Oh you Pharisees! You are a new breed
of Pharisees who have come back to the world. You set yourselves apart from
others ... So you wear a habit of unusual colour. To distinguish yourselves from
all other monks, you show off in a white habit, while all the others wear
black."127 This letter evidently set the scene
for Cluniac complaints against the Cistercians, for the same accusations recur
constantly throughout the controversy.
Bernard of Morlaix
does not confine his invective to the Cistercians in general. He directs it also
to Saint Bernard of Clairvaux himself:
One of them, older in appearance and seeming to be more virtuous, is a role model for the lesser brothers in the Order. His heart broods on evil things, while his mouth begets and utters good things. Oh shame! Oh wickedness! He is a devil, though he is thought to be an angel ... He looks like a man, but inside there is no longer a man. He is a wolf.128
The
Cistercians feature more frequently in twelfth-century antimonastic writing than
do the other religious orders. Walter Map, in De nugis
curialium, offers a long digression on the wickedness of monks in
general:
Monks both white and black recognize their prey, as the hawk spies the frightened lark, in the shape of knights whom they can pluck - men who have wasted their patrimony or are shackled with debts. These they entice, and at their firesides, remote from noise and apart from those guests of charity, the fleas, entertain them sumptuously, most amiably press them to repeat their visits frequently, promise them similar cheer for every day and faces always smiling ... They undertake to supply their needs, then hurry them to the various altars and tell them who is the patron of each, and how many masses are said there every day; they enrol them in the brotherhood in full chapter, and make them sharers of their prayers.129
But
Walter reserves his fiercest criticisms for the Cistercians:
As to their clothing, their food and their long hours of work, the people to whom they are kind (because they cannot do them any harm) say that their clothing is insufficient to keep off cold, their food to keep off hunger, and the work they do is enormous, and from this they argue to me that they cannot be covetous because their acquisitions are not spent on luxuries. But oh how simple is the answer! Do not usurers and other slaves of avarice clothe and feed themselves most poorly and cheaply? ... If you make a point of toil, cold and food, why, the Welsh lead a harder life in all respects. The Cistercians have numbers of coats, the Welsh none ...130
Walter
Map is one of many writers to comment on the Cistercians' refusal (supposedly in
obedience to the Rule) to wear trousers. He does not accept as a satisfactory
reason that it is designed "to preserve coolness in that part of the body, lest
sudden heats provoke unchastity."131 Only the
Carthusians meet with Walter's guarded approval.132
It may also have been Walter Map
who wrote the scurrilous verses by "a disciple of Golias about the Grey Monks"
(that is, the Cistercians), which conclude with the sentiment that there are two
things which cause devastation everywhere, and which cannot be avoided. One is
the pox. The other is the Cistercians, who "do not wear trousers to cover their
private parts, so that they can always be ready to practise the arts of
love."133
Gerald of Wales quotes several stories against the
religious orders, which he attributes to his friend Walter Map, and adds many
more of his own, in Speculum ecclesiae. Like Walter,
he is particularly hard on the Cistercians, but speaks well of the
Carthusians.134
De malis monachorum was a common theme of twelfth
century lyrical verse. A long poem from Wright's collection, for example,
expresses and develops the sentiment:
Oh, what wonderful lives, leading to the salvation of their souls, were led by the monks of old. But nowadays they turn the noble virtue of obedience into the vice of empty pride.135
In Analecta hymnica, we find the following:
Fearing to be shipwrecked in the flood of worldly affairs, I fled at last to a monastery, as a way to salvation open to everybody. Alas! I escaped from the jaws of Charybdis and avoided the perils of the Gulf of Syrtis, but now I fear a greater disaster, for I am overwhelmed by the dogs of Scylla. When I put on the monastic habit, I thought I was escaping from wickedness. But deceit and malice, which I thought I had escaped from, were still there. Unless God helps me with his grace, I will become a broken vessel, a dog returning to its vomit. But there is no going back.136
The
major criticism of the religious orders, to which all the particular complaints
may be reduced, is that they no longer serve the important and admirable
purposes for which they were established.
Once, the great glory of the religious orders was poverty and the rejection of worldly concerns. Nowadays, they think they are hard done by if they do not own goods and great wealth, pastures, meadows, flocks of sheep - all things which imperil their immortal souls. They believe nowadays that it is a wicked thing to be regarded as poor in the eyes of the world. Christ was poor. They follow him only to the extent that they can give the appearance of poverty without the reality.137
The
emphasis of antimonastic criticism is different from that of criticism of the
Curia and of the secular clergy. The monks are castigated chiefly for their
failure to live up to their vows of stability, obedience and conversion of life,
and for their imperfect realisation of the ideals of poverty and chastity. The
main accusation against the papacy, the bishops and the lesser clergy, by
contrast, is that of Simony in its various forms, and of failure to take care of
the spiritual needs of their flocks.
Bernard, in his various
poems, and especially in the De contemptu mundi, is
concerned to convince his monastic audience that, like Mary, they have chosen
the best part.138 He wishes to reprehend the
shortcomings of his brothers and to call them back from their sins139 but, except for his attacks against the
Cistercians, his complaint is not aimed directly at the wickedness of monks.
Rather, he achieves his purpose by drawing attention to the evils of the other
members of the estates of society, and urging his brothers to avoid those evils
and to shun the world.
Estates satire, which belongs to
the genre of complaint literature, was very well established in the Latin
tradition, before it was taken up by the vernacular literatures, and it was as
lively and varied in the Latin as it became in the vernaculars. The second and
third categories of complaint literature, namely complaints of particular vices
and types, and complaints of specific abuses and sins, are liberally exemplified
throughout Bernard's poems, especially the De contemptu
mundi and the De octo vitiis. In the next
chapter, consideration is given to two examples, namely Bernard's treatment of
homosexuals and his misogyny. The former deserves special attention, not so much
because Bernard stresses it (he does not), as because twelfth-century
homosexuality has received attention in current scholarly literature. The latter
poses special problems of interpretation in the context of complaint
literature.