CHAPTER III

THE GERMAN EMPIRE AT THE HEIGHT OF ITS POWER; THE LATER SAXON AND EARLY

SALIAN EMPERORS (973–1056)[2]

The reign of Otto II.—Break-up of Bavaria—Projects of

Crusade—War and Alliance with Greek Empire—The Reign of Otto

III.—Regency of Theophano and Bavarian Revolt—Otto and the

Bishops—Gerbert of Aurillac—Visionary Schemes of Otto—His

failure—Reign of Henry II.—The two Conrads—Reign of Conrad

II.—His Italian and Slavonic Policy—Union of Arelate and

Empire—Fiefs declared Hereditary—Aribert—Reign of Henry

III.—His Policy in the East, France, Germany, and Italy—Synod

of Sutri—Death of Henry III.

[Sidenote: Otto II., 973–983.]

Otto II. was eighteen years of age when the death of his father made him

sole ruler. His education and surroundings gave his policy a very

different direction from that of Otto I. The elder prince was purely

German, and even in winning the imperial crown sought to subserve a

Teutonic object. His son, born and reared in the purple, Burgundian or

Italian on his mother’s side, and married to a Byzantine Emperor’s

daughter, took wider views. To Otto II. Italy was as important as

Germany, and his ambition was to weld the two realms together in a solid

imperial unity, while constantly keeping his eyes even beyond these two

kingdoms. To him the Emperor’s lordship of the world was a reality, and

he strove with all the force of an ardent, impetuous, and impulsive

nature to give effect to his ideal. But while Otto II.’s short reign

witnessed the Empire assuming a more universal character, it also saw

the first signs of that essential incompatibility between the position

of German king and Roman Emperor which, in after ages, was to bear such

bitter fruit.

Despite the quietness of Otto I.’s last years, the difficulties against

which the old Emperor had struggled still remained. The separatist

spirit of the national dukedoms still lived on in Bavaria, and had only

been temporarily glossed over by the good understanding between Otto I.

and Duke Henry. Judith, the widow of Duke Henry, now ruled Bavaria in

the name of her son Henry II., surnamed the Quarrelsome, while she

controlled Swabia through her influence on her daughter Hedwig, and

Hedwig’s aged husband, the Swabian Duke Burkhard. Otto II. saw the

danger of a close union between the two southern duchies, and, on

Burkhard’s death, invested his nephew Otto, Duke Ludolf’s son, with

Swabia. Judith and her partisans were instantly aroused. A new civil war

was threatened, in which the Bavarians did not scruple to call in the

help of the Bohemians and Poles. But the young Emperor’s vigorous

measures proved fatal to the attempted rebellion, and Otto took the

opportunity of his triumph to lessen the influence of the Bavarian dukes

by intrusting, to separate margraves, the east mark, on the Danube (the

later Austria), and the north mark between the Danube and the Bohemian

Forest. [Sidenote: Break-up of the Bavarian Duchy, 976–8.] The great

highland marchland of Carinthia and Carniola, with which still went the

Italian March of Verona, or Friuli, was constituted a seventh duchy. The

rest of the Bavarian duchy was consigned to the care of the faithful

Otto of Swabia. Judith was shut up in a convent. Henry the Quarrelsome

fled to Bohemia, whence he made subsequent unsuccessful attempts to

recover his position. Thus the Emperor triumphed, but he had simply to

do over again the work of his father. It was a thankless business, and

showed how insecure were the very foundations of the German kingdom. But

for the rest of his short reign Germany gave Otto but little trouble.

The extension of Christianity among Wends, Poles, and Bohemians gave

Magdeburg and Mainz new suffragans in the Bishops of Gnesen and Prague,

though renewed attacks on the marches soon taught Otto that the

Christianised Slavs were scarcely less formidable enemies than their

heathen fathers had been.

[Sidenote: War with France, 978.]

In 978 Otto marched with a great army almost to the walls of Paris to

avenge on the Carolingian king, Lothair, his attempt to withdraw

Lorraine from the imperial obedience [see page 70]. Few of his acts

bring out more clearly his imperial position than this long progress

through hostile territory. But Italy was the scene of Otto II.’s most

famous actions, and best illustrates his high conception of the imperial

dignity. Rome was, as usual, a constant source of trouble. A series of

insignificant Pontiffs succeeded John XIII.; but above them towered the

noble Roman, Crescentius, Duke of the Romans, perhaps the son of the

younger Theodora, Marozia’s sister, who aspired to renew the great part

played by Alberic II. [Sidenote: Crescentius at Rome, 980.] In 980 Otto

crossed the Alps for Italy, and on his approach the opposition was

shattered. In 981 he restored the Pope to Rome, whence he had fled from

fear of Crescentius, and forced Crescentius himself to withdraw into the

seclusion of a monastery, where a few years later he died. The need of

protection still kept the Papacy faithful to the imperial alliance.

Otto now assumed new responsibilities directly flowing from his position

as Emperor. The Mohammedan lords of Sicily had re-established themselves

in southern Italy, and threatened the march of Benevento. Otto marched

to the help of the Lombard Duke of Benevento. [Sidenote: Campaigns

against Greeks and Saracens, 981–982.] At the same time he sought to

make a reality of the cession of Greek Italy, the promised portion of

Theophano, but which, owing to the unwillingness of the Byzantines, had

never actually come into his hands. In 981 and 982 Otto carried on

successful war in southern Italy. A whole series of Greek towns—Salerno,

Bari, Taranto—fell into his hands. In the summer of 982 Otto traversed

the old road of Pyrrhus, along the Gulf of Taranto, and defeated the

Arabs at Cotrone (the ancient Croton), slaying Abul Cassim, the Ameer of

Sicily, in the fight. A few days later Otto fell into a Saracen ambush

as he pursued his route along the narrow road between the Calabrian

mountains and the sea. His army was almost destroyed, though he himself,

after a series of remarkable adventures, succeeded in eluding his

enemies.

[Sidenote: Diet of Verona and projected Crusade, 983.]

Germans and Italians vied with each other in their efforts to restore

the Emperor’s preponderance. In 983 a remarkable Diet assembled at

Verona, in which the magnates of Germany and Italy sat side by side, to

show that the two realms constituted but one Empire. The spirit that a

century later inspired the Crusades first appeared in this remarkable

assembly. It was resolved to follow the Emperor on a holy war against

the Mussulmans. That the succession might be peacefully secured during

his absence the magnates chose as their future ruler the little Otto,

his three-years-old son by Theophano. Preparations were then made for

the war against Islam. But the rising commercial city of Venice, jealous

of the imperial policy, and already enriching itself by trade with the

enemies of the Christian faith, refused to supply the necessary ships

for an expedition against Sicily, the centre of the infidel power. Otto

sought to block up the land approaches to the recalcitrant town, but,

secure in her impregnable lagoons, Venice was able to defy the Emperor.

The news of a Wendish invasion now came from Germany; and the disturbed

condition of Rome again demanded Otto’s personal presence. There he

laboured with feverish earnestness to prepare for his mighty task; but

there he was smitten with a sudden and deadly disease, that carried him

off on 7th December 983. He was only twenty-eight years old. His body

was buried, as became a Roman Emperor, in the Church of St. Peter’s. The

difficulties which had proved almost too much for the strong and capable

grown man, were now to be faced, as best they might be, by his young

widow Theophano, the regent of the new lord of the world, a child

scarcely four years of age.

The German Empire rested almost entirely on the warlike character of its

head, and any failure of the central military power involved the gravest

evils. A wave of heathen reaction burst from the Wendish and Danish

lands into the very heart of the Saxon Empire. In the south, Islam,

excited by the threatened Crusade, menaced the centre of the Christian

world. It seemed as if the Empire of the Ottos was on the verge of

dissolution, when Henry the Quarrelsome, the deposed Duke of Bavaria,

came back, and, by claiming the regency from Theophano, added the

terrors of internal discord to those of barbarian invasion. [Sidenote:

Revolt of Henry of Bavaria, 984.] At first Henry made good progress,

and, advancing in his claims, began to covet the crown itself. The Dukes

of Poland and Bohemia paid him homage, and Lothair of France eagerly

supported him. It was more important that Henry had won over many of the

bishops, who, as the natural result of Otto I.’s policy, had the balance

of power in their hands. He also secured the person of the young Otto

III. But, as the Archbishop of Magdeburg favoured Henry, the lay nobles

of the Wendish mark, who hated their clerical supplanters, and

Archbishop Willegis of Mainz, who still looked with detestation on the

mushroom primacy on the Elbe, declared for Theophano. The adhesion of

the mass of the Saxon nation at last secured the victory of the Greek.

Henry was forced to submit, and was pacified by being restored to his

duchy of Bavaria.

[Sidenote: Regency of Theophano, 983–991.]

Otto III. owed his throne to the clergy. The influence of the bishops

kept Germany quiet during the regency of Theophano. The fall of the last

of the West Frankish Carolingians, and the accession of Hugh Capet in

987, prevented any further danger from the French side, while on the

east, the Margrave Eckhard of Meissen hurled back the Slavonic invaders,

and cleverly set the Bohemians and the Poles by the ears. Adelaide,

Otto’s grandmother, ruled Italy from the old Lombard capital of Pavia.

She was less fortunate than her daughter-in-law, with whom, moreover,

her relations were not cordial. Rome fell away almost altogether, so

that a French synod at Reims (995) was able, with good reason, to

denounce the scandals that degraded the Papacy, and to threaten that

France, like the east, might be provoked into breaking off all

connections with the See of Peter. John Crescentius, son of the man

driven by Otto II. into a cloister, renewed the policy of his father,

and, taking the name of Patrician, ruled over Rome with little

opposition.

[Sidenote: Rule of the bishops and education of Otto, 991–996.]

Theophano died in 991. No new regent was appointed, but a council of

regency set up, prominent among its members being the Empress Adelaide,

Willegis of Mainz, Eckhard of Meissen, and Henry, Duke of Bavaria, son

and successor of Henry the Quarrelsome. The composition of this body was

a further proof of the extension of ecclesiastical influence. But an

even more significant indication of this was the fact that the young

king was brought up almost entirely under the direction of highly-placed

churchmen. Willegis of Mainz, and Bernward, Bishop of Hildesheim, the

future saint, were the two prelates most directly responsible for his

education. The result was that, though the young king spent his early

years amidst his fierce and half-barbarous Saxon subjects, he became

still less of a German than Otto II., and was possessed by ideals that

stand in the strongest contrast with those of his predecessors. Bernward

caused him to be schooled in the best culture of his time, and gave him

an abiding love of letters and learned men. He also strongly inspired

the quick-witted and sympathetic youth with the ascetic views and the

sacerdotal sympathies of the Cluniacs. Thus Otto became enthusiastically

religious, and ever remained a devout pilgrim to holy places and seeker

out of inspired anchorites and saints. Moreover, Otto inherited from

Theophano all the high Byzantine notions of the sacredness of the

Empire, and, seeking to combine the two aspects of his education, his

mind was soon filled with glowing visions of a kingdom of God on earth,

in which Pope and Emperor ruled in harmony over a world that enjoyed

perfect peace and idyllic happiness. Otto’s ideals were generous, noble,

and unselfish; but in the iron age in which he lived they were

hopelessly unpractical. The young king lived to become the ‘wonder of

the world’ and the ‘renewer of the Empire.’ But his early death came

none too soon to hide the vanity of his ambitions. At best, he was the

first of that long line of brilliant and attractive failures which it

was the special mission of the mediæval Empire to produce.

[Sidenote: Otto’s coronation at Rome, 996.]

In 996 Otto attained his legal majority, and crossed the Alps to seek

his coronation at Rome as Emperor. The king and his army marched as

though bound on a pilgrimage, or like the crusading hosts of a century

later. As they entered the Lombard plain, the news came that the Papacy

was vacant, and a deputation of Romans, tired of the tyranny of

Crescentius, begged Otto to nominate a new Pope. The young king at once

appointed his cousin, Bruno, grandson of Conrad the Red and Liutgarde,

daughter of Otto I., a youth of four-and-twenty, and a zealous champion

of the Cluniacs, who took the name of Gregory V. [Sidenote: Gregory V.,

996–999.] On 25th May 996, Otto was crowned by Gregory at Rome.

Pope and Emperor strove at once to embody their theories in acts. The

proceedings of the anti-papal synod of Reims were annulled; its nominee

to the see of Reims, Gerbert of Aurillac, was forced to yield up his

post to the worldly Arnulf that the synod strove in vain to depose. The

whole French episcopate bowed in submission before the new Pope, and

Gerbert soon repudiated his earlier teachings. The French king, Robert,

was visited with the severest censures of the Church for contracting a

marriage within the prohibited degrees. The holy Adalbert, the apostle

of Bohemia, but driven from his see of Prague by a pagan reaction, was

sternly ordered to return to his bishopric, or, if that were impossible,

to engage in a new mission to the heathen. Adalbert chose the latter

alternative, and his early death at the hands of the heathen Prussians

made him the protomartyr of the new order that Otto and Gregory were

striving to introduce. But while the two enthusiasts were busy in the

regeneration of the universe, they were unable to maintain themselves in

the very centre of their power. A new Roman rebellion brought back

Crescentius. [Sidenote: Fall of Crescentius, 998.] Only through the help

of the iron soldiery of the Saxon borders, headed by the valiant Eckhard

of Meissen, could Otto win back the Eternal City to his obedience. In

998 Rome surrendered, and Crescentius atoned for his rebellion on the

scaffold.

[Sidenote: Gerbert of Aurillac.]

An early death now cut off Gregory V., and Otto raised Gerbert of

Aurillac[3] to the papal throne. Gerbert was quite the most remarkable

man of his age. A poor Frenchman of obscure birth from the uplands of

the centre, he received his first schooling in a cloister at his native

Aurillac, where he took the monastic vows. Borrel, a pious Count of

Barcelona, made his acquaintance while visiting Aurillac on a

pilgrimage, and took him back with him to the Spanish march. There

Gerbert abode some years, and there he acquired that profound knowledge

of mathematics which had perhaps filtered into the march from the

Mussulman schools of Cordova, and which gave him in the unlearned north

a reputation for extraordinary learning, if not for magical skill. Ever

eager for knowledge, he accompanied his patron to Italy, and attracted

the notice of Otto I. Finally he settled down at Reims, attracted by the

fame of a certain archdeacon who taught in the cathedral school. The

good Archbishop Adalbero made Gerbert ‘scholasticus’ of the school at

Reims. Accompanying the archbishop to Italy, Gerbert received from Otto

II. the headship of Columban’s old abbey of Bobbio, and speedily

reformed its lax discipline. On Otto II.’s death, the angry monks drove

him away, and he went back to Reims and resumed his teaching as

‘scholasticus.’ He dominated the policy of the archbishop in the

critical years that saw the accession of Hugh Capet to the French throne

[see pages 70–71], but on Adalbero’s death was ungratefully passed over

by Hugh, whose interests procured the election of Arnulf, an unlearned

but high-born Carolingian, to the great see. A few years later, Arnulf

was deposed by the synod of 995, and Gerbert put in his place. But

Arnulf still claimed to be archbishop, and Gerbert went to Italy to

plead his cause with Gregory V. Finding his chances hopeless, he closely

attached himself to Otto III., with whom he had strong affinities in

character. Gerbert loved pomp and splendour, was attracted by Otto’s

high ideals, and was of a pliant, complaisant, and courtier-like

disposition. He was made Archbishop of Ravenna to compensate him for the

loss of Reims. When elevated to the Papacy, he chose to call himself

Sylvester II. As Sylvester I. had stood to the first Christian Emperor,

so would Sylvester II. stand to the new Constantine. Under him the close

alliance of Pope and Emperor was continued as fervently as during the

lifetime of Gregory V.

[Sidenote: Visionary schemes of Otto and Sylvester II., 999–1003.]

Otto’s plans grew more mystical and visionary. Rome, and Rome alone,

could be the seat of the renewed Empire, and Otto began the building of

an imperial palace on the Aventine on the site of the abode of the early

Cæsars. He abandoned the simple life of a Saxon etheling, which had been

good enough for his father and grandfather, and secluded his sacred

person from a prying world by all the devices of Byzantine

court-etiquette and Oriental exclusiveness. His court officials dropped

their old-fashioned Teutonic titles, and were renamed after the manner

of Constantinople. The chamberlain became the _Protovestiarius_, the

counsellor the _logothetes_, the generals were _comites imperialis

militiæ_, and their subordinates _protospatharii_. The close union of

the Pope and Emperor in a theocratic polity was still better illustrated

by the institution of the _judices palatii ordinarii_. They were of the

mystic number of seven, ecclesiastics by profession, and were to act as

supreme judges in ordinary times, but were also to ordain the Emperor (a

new ceremony to be substituted for coronation) and to elect the Pope.

But apart from its fantastic character, the whole policy of Otto

depended upon a personal harmony between Pope and Emperor. Even under

Otto himself this result could only be secured by the Emperor’s utter

subordination of his real interests to the pursuit of his brilliant but

illusive fancies.

[Sidenote: Opposition to Otto III. in Germany.]

Otto’s cosmopolitan imperialism soon brought him in collision with

Germany, and especially with the German Church. He set up a new

archbishopric at Gnesen in Poland, where reposed the relics of the

martyred Adalbert, and surrounded it with the mystical number of seven

suffragans. In the same way, Sylvester, in recognising Stephen, the

first Christian Duke of Hungary, as a king, established a Hungarian

archbishopric at Gran. These acts involved a recognition of the national

independence of Poland and Hungary. Wise as they were, they were

resented in Germany as being directly counter to the traditional Saxon

policy of extending German influence eastwards, by making the bishops

subject to the German metropolitans at Magdeburg and Salzburg. The

practical German bishops saw with disgust the Emperor giving up the very

corner-stone of the policy of Henry and Otto I. The deep differences of

sentiment came to a head in a petty dispute as to whether a new church

for the nuns of Gandersheim should be consecrated by Bernward of

Hildesheim, the diocesan, who favoured Otto’s fancies, or by the

metropolitan Willegis of Mainz, who bitterly lamented the outlandish

ideas of his old pupil. Sylvester upheld Bernward, but the German

bishops declared for Willegis, and paid no heed to the papal censures

that followed quickly on their contumacy. They refused even to be

present at the Councils in which Sylvester professed to condemn the

Archbishop of Mainz. The German clergy were thus in open revolt from

Rome, and they were, as we have seen, the leaders of the German nation.

[Sidenote: Breakdown of Otto’s system in Italy.]

While the outlook was thus gloomy in Germany, the march of events in

Italy gave but little encouragement to Pope and Emperor, and demanded

the personal presence of Otto, who had been forced to return to Germany

in the vain hope of appeasing the general opposition to his policy.

Before he crossed the Alps for the last time, Otto went to Aachen, and,

if we can believe one of his followers’ statement, visited the vaults

beneath the venerable palace-chapel to gaze upon the corpse of Charles

the Great, sitting as in life upon a throne, with crown on head and

sceptre in hand. When he reached the south, he found to his dismay that

lower Italy had fallen altogether from his obedience, and that even

Tivoli, in the immediate neighbourhood of Rome, had rebelled against

him. Otto made feverish efforts to restore his authority. He clamoured

for Byzantine help, and begged for a Byzantine wife. He paid a flying

visit to the Venetian lagoons, seeking for a fleet from the great Doge

Peter Orseolo. But worse news now reached him. Rome itself now rose in

revolt, and Otto, postponing in despair his warlike operations, could

only find consolation in visits to the holy Romuald in his inaccessible

island hermitage amidst the swamps of Ravenna, and in the practice of

penances, mortifications, and scourgings. Recovering his energy, he now

sought to obtain an army from Germany to procure, as in the old days,

the subjection of Italy; but it was the very moment of the crisis of the

Gandersheim struggle, and no German help was forthcoming. A sharp fever

now attacked Otto at the very moment of the collapse of all his plans.

He died on 23rd January 1002, at Paterno, near Rome, when only

twenty-two years old. [Sidenote: Death of Otto III., 1002.] With him

perished his lofty ambitions. He had made himself the wonder of the

world; but all that he had accomplished was to play the game of the high

ecclesiastical party. The tendency of his policy, like the latter

Carolings, was to subordinate the visionary Empire to the practical

Papacy, thus exactly reversing the ideas of the great Saxons, and

bringing out in its most glaring contrast the incompatibility of the

union of the German kingship with the imperial claims to universal

domination. Within a year Sylvester II. followed him to the tomb.

[Sidenote: Henry II., 1002–1024.]

For eighty years the Saxon kings and emperors had succeeded from father

to son, and even a minority had not broken down the tendency towards

heredity which seemed rapidly divesting the German kingdom of the

elective character which it had shared with the Empire itself. Otto

III.’s death without direct heirs now reminded the German magnates that

they still could choose their king, and, in the absence of any strong

claimant, there was a whole swarm of aspirants after the vacant dignity.

The friends of the Saxon traditions, which Otto III. had so violently

set at naught, hoped for the election of the brave and experienced

Eckhard of Meissen; but as Eckhard was travelling to the south to pursue

his candidature, he was murdered to satisfy a private revenge. His

removal secured the appointment of Henry, Duke of Bavaria, the son of

Henry the Quarrelsome, and the nearest kinsman of competent age and

position to the dead ruler. Thus the throne was retained in the hands of

the Saxon house, though it now was held by a branch that had long

attached itself to the traditions of its southern duchy. Bavarians,

Lorrainers, and Franks accepted Henry at once; the Saxons and Swabians

only after a short hesitation.

It was a great thing that the succession had been peaceably settled. Yet

the new king had neither the power nor the energy of the Ottos. Raised

to the throne by the great magnates, Henry II. never aspired to carry on

the despotic traditions of the earlier Saxon kings, but thought to rule

with the help of frequent Diets and Councils. He had more authority over

the Church, and his personal piety and zeal for good works, in which he

was well supported by his wife Cunigunde, procured for him in after

times the name and reputation of a saint, and in his own day kept him on

good terms with the clergy, though he was never their slave. He used his

bishops and abbots as instruments of his temporal rule, and

systematically developed Otto III.’s system of making the bishops and

abbots the local representatives of the imperial power by granting them

the position of Count over the neighbouring Gau. On one great matter he

gave much offence to the German bishops. [Sidenote: Henry II. and the

Church.] He set up a new bishopric at Bamberg in Franconia, laying in

1004 the foundations of its new cathedral, and conferring on it such

extensive privileges that every bishop in Germany was annoyed at the new

prelate holding a position next after the archbishops, while the

Archbishop of Mainz resented the merely nominal ties of obedience that

bound the Bishop of Bamberg to him as his metropolitan. Henry was a

friend of the Cluniac monks, and it was through his efforts that these

zealous Church reformers first got a strong position in Germany.

[Sidenote: Henry II. and the Slavs.]

Henry had no trouble with the Hungarians, whose great king, St. Stephen,

the founder of the settled Magyar state, was his brother-in-law and

friend. But it was among his chief cares to uphold the old Saxon

supremacy over the Slavs, which Otto III. had generously or

fantastically neglected. Poland was now a formidable state, and its Duke

Boleslav, who had become a terror to the marks before the death of Otto,

aspired to build up a strong Slavonic power, and drive back the Germans

over the Elbe. It was no longer the frontier warfare of the days after

Otto the Great’s victories. It was rather a stern fight between two

vigorous nations, in which Henry only won the upper hand after long and

costly efforts. Even at the last he was forced to hand over the mark of

Lausitz to the Poles, to be held as a fief of the German kingdom.

Henry’s laborious policy, his shrinking from great efforts, and his

fixed resolve to concentrate himself on little objects within his reach,

stand in the strongest contrast to the vast ambitions of his

predecessor. Yet, in his slow and determined way, Henry brought back the

German kingdom to a more national policy, and did much to restore the

havoc wrought by Otto’s vain pursuits of impossible ideals. As a German

king, he was in no wise a failure, though he raised the monarchy to no

new heights of power.

Henry’s success in Germany was closely connected with his failure in

Italy. Under his cautious rule the plans of Otto III. were quickly lost

sight of. On the death of Sylvester II., the Papacy fell back into its

old dependence on the local nobles. At first a third Crescentius, son of

Otto III.’s victim, assumed his father’s title of Patrician, ruled Rome

at his pleasure, and nominated two puppet Popes in succession. But a

stronger power arose, that of the Counts of Tusculum. Before long a

series of Tusculan Popes, set up by the goodwill of these powerful

lords, again degraded the Papacy, and threatened to deprive it of the

obedience and respect of Europe. [Sidenote: Henry II. and Italy.] It was

the same in the secular as in the spiritual sphere. Before the German

succession had been settled, Ardoin, Marquis of Ivrea, had got himself

elected King of Italy, and held his own for many years against the

partisans of Henry reinforced by German armies. In 1004 Henry went over

the Alps, and submitted to be elected and crowned king at Pavia, though

the Ottos had borne the Italian crown without condescending to go

through such formalities. Despite this Ardoin long maintained himself.

At last, in 1013, Henry went down to Italy again, and on 14th February

1014 received the imperial diadem from Pope Benedict VIII. But no

striking result followed this renewal of the Empire. Benedict, who was a

zealous partisan of the Count of Tusculum, now sought, by advocacy of

the Cluniac ideas, to maintain himself against an Antipope of the

faction of Crescentius. In 1020 Benedict visited Germany to consecrate

the cathedral of Bamberg, and signalised his visit by taking Henry’s

foundation under his immediate care. It seemed as if the old alliance of

Papacy and Empire were renewed. Next year Henry crossed the Brenner at

the head of a strong German army, which traversed all Italy, in three

divisions, commanded respectively by Henry himself, the Patriarch of

Aquileia, and the Archbishop of Cologne. But by the time the Lombard

dukes of Capua and Salerno had made their submission, and Henry was

marching through Apulia, a deadly sickness raged in his host and

compelled its immediate retreat. Next year Henry was back in Germany. It

is significant that the office of Count Palatine of Italy ceased to

exist during his reign. The Emperor was no longer an effective ruler of

the peninsula.

In the latter years of his life Henry attached himself still more

strongly to the Cluniac party, and, as with Otto III., his friendship

for foreign priests brought him into renewed conflict with the German

bishops. Aribo, Archbishop of Mainz, led the opposition to Henry and

Benedict. But just as the conflict was coming to a head, Benedict VIII.

died (1024). He was quickly followed to the grave by Henry himself. With

him perished the last king of the male stock of the Ludolfing dukes of

Saxony. His dull and featureless reign was but a tame conclusion to the

brilliant period of the Ottos.

[Sidenote: The two Conrads, 1024.]

The ecclesiastical differences that had troubled Germany during Henry

II.’s lifetime lay at the root of the party struggles that now raged

round the appointment of his successor. As in Henry’s case, there was no

specific candidate marked out by birth and special fitness for the

choice of the German nation. The bishops, led by Aribo of Mainz and

Burkhard of Worms, resolved to take full advantage of this freedom of

election to prevent the accession of any prince inclined, like the late

Emperor, to favour the spread of Cluniac ideas. They therefore urged the

claims of Conrad of Swabia. Conrad was the great-grandson of Conrad the

Red and his wife Liutgarde, Otto the Great’s daughter, and consequently

nephew of Pope Gregory V., and descended from the Ludolfings on the

female side. Though only the possessor of part of his rich family

estates in the Rhineland, Conrad had made a lucky marriage with the

widowed Gisela, Duchess of Swabia, the granddaughter of Conrad, king of

Arles, and a descendant of the Carolingians. This gave him the

guardianship of the young Duke Ernest of Swabia, Gisela’s son by her

former husband, and secured for him a leading position among the German

magnates. Conrad was a valiant and experienced warrior, and an

intelligent statesman, possessing a clear head and a strong will,

resolutely bent on securing practical objects immediately within reach.

He had persistently held aloof from the ecclesiastical policy of his

predecessor, with whom he had been more than once in open feud. He was

still more hostile to his cousin, Conrad, Duke of Carinthia, the son of

another Conrad, a younger brother of his father Henry, who, through the

caprice of their grandfather, had inherited the mass of the Rhenish

estates of Conrad the Red, usurping the position of the elder line. This

second Conrad was now the candidate of the Cluniac party against Conrad

of Swabia. But the great prelates were still all-powerful; despite the

opposition of the Lorrainers, among whom Cluniac ideas had gained a firm

hold, Conrad of Swabia was elected king. His path to the throne was made

smooth by the generosity of his rival, who, at the last moment,

abandoned his candidature, and voted for his cousin. [Sidenote: Conrad

II., 1024–1039.] Aribo of Mainz crowned Conrad in his own cathedral,

regardless of the claims of the rival Archbishop of Cologne, the

diocesan of Aachen, the proper place for the coronation. But Aribo

refused to confer the crown on Gisela, since the Church regarded her

marriage with Conrad as irregular by reason of their affinity. Pilgrim

of Cologne now saw his opportunity for making terms with the victor. He

gave Gisela the crown which Aribo had denied her. Thus Conrad entered

upon his reign with the support of all the leaders of the German nation.

The younger Conrad remained faithful to his old rival; while his younger

brother Bruno, who became Bishop of Toul, soon became one of the

greatest supports of the new dynasty.

[Sidenote: Italian policy.]

When Conrad II. became king, he found everything in confusion: but

within two years of his accession he had infused a new spirit and energy

into every part of his dominions. His first difficulty was with

Lorraine, whose two dukes had opposed his election, and now refused to

acknowledge its validity. They sought the help of King Robert of France,

whose weak support availed them but little. Conrad soon put down their

rebellion, and with almost equal ease quelled the revolt of his

ambitious and unruly step-son, Ernest of Swabia. Germany was thus

appeased, but Italy, where the imperial power had become very feeble in

the later part of the reign of Henry II., was still practically outside

Conrad’s influence. His authority was only saved from complete ruin by

the policy of the Lombard bishops, who saw in the Emperor their best

protection against the proud and powerful lay aristocracy, and

especially against the warlike margraves, who now aspired to renew the

part played by Ardoin of Ivrea. But conscious that they did not possess

sufficient strength to continue successfully a policy in which even

Ardoin had failed, the leaders of the north Italian nobility looked

elsewhere abroad for help to counterbalance the German soldiery of the

Emperor. When King Robert of France rejected their advances, they found

what they sought in William V., the Duke of Aquitaine and Count of

Poitou, an aged and experienced warrior, and a strong friend of the

Cluniacs, who hoped to find in Italy a suitable endowment for his young

son William. This was the first occasion in which the policy of calling

in the French to drive out the Germans was adopted by the Italians. But

the times were not yet ripe for the intervention of a French prince in

Italy. William crossed the Alps, but found that he could make but little

progress against the vigorous opposition of the Lombard bishops, headed

by Aribert of Milan, and tried to make up for his weakness in Italy by

uniting himself with the Lorraine rebels, and by stirring up an

anti-German party in the kingdom of Arles. But nothing came of his

elaborate schemes, and in 1025 he went home in disgust.

[Sidenote: Conrad’s imperial coronation, 1027.]

Early in 1026 Conrad crossed the Brenner, and in March received the

Lombard crown from Aribert in the cathedral of Milan. Pavia, the old

Lombard capital, shut its gates on the Emperor, who was thus unable to

be hallowed in the usual place. For a whole year Conrad remained in

northern Italy, and gradually forced his enemies to make their

submission. In the spring of 1027 the way to Rome at last lay open, and

on Easter Sunday Conrad was crowned Emperor by Pope John XIX. The

function was one of the most striking and memorable ceremonies in the

whole history of the mediæval Empire. It was witnessed by two

kings—Rudolf III., the last of the kings of Arles, and Canute of

Denmark, the conqueror of England and Norway, then at Rome on a

pilgrimage. But the clear head of Conrad was not in the least turned by

the mystic rite. Content that his twofold coronation gave him a firm

hold over Italy, he quickly recrossed the Alps and resumed his proper

work as a German king, taking good care that there should be no clashing

between his German and Italian interests. Before his return he visited

southern Italy, and ensured the obedience of the Lombard dukes, who

still guarded the frontier against the Greeks of Calabria.

On his return to Germany, Conrad felt that his power was sufficiently

secure to take steps towards retaining the Empire in his own family. In

1028, he persuaded the magnates to elect, and Pilgrim of Cologne to

crown, as his successor his eldest son, Henry, who was but ten years of

age. [Sidenote: Fall of Ernest of Swabia, 1030.] This act roused the

jealousy of the greater nobles, who found in Conrad’s son-in-law, Ernest

of Swabia, an eager champion of their views. Ernest again plunged into

revolt; and when pardoned, at the instance of his mother the Empress,

still kept up his close friendship with the open rebel, Werner of

Kyburg, Count of the Thurgau, a district including the north-eastern

parts of the modern Switzerland. In 1030 Conrad ordered Ernest to break

off from all dealings with his friend, and, as a sign of his repentance,

to carry out in person the sentence of outlawry and deprivation

pronounced against him. Ernest refused to give up Werner, whereupon

Conrad deprived him of his duchy. Bitterly incensed with his

father-in-law, the young duke left the palace, and wandered from court

to court, seeking help to excite a new rebellion. But Conrad was so

strong that neither foreign prince nor discontented German noble would

make common cause with Ernest. In despair he took to a wild robber life

of adventure, lurking with a few faithful vassals amidst the ravines and

woods of the Black Forest. Before the summer was out Ernest was

overpowered and slain. His commonplace treason and brigandage were in

after ages glorified in popular tales, that make his friend Werner a

model of romantic fidelity, and he himself a gallant and chivalrous

warrior. After his fall, Conrad reigned in peace over Germany.

[Sidenote: Hungary and Poland, 1030–1032.]

The inroads of the Hungarians and Poles now forced fresh wars on Conrad.

In 1030 he waged a doubtful contest against Stephen of Hungary. In the

succeeding years he obtained great successes against the Poles, winning

back in 1031 Lausitz and the other mark districts that Henry II. had

been forced to surrender to their king Boleslav, and compelling his

successor Miecislav, in 1032, to do homage to him for the whole of his

kingdom. But great as were Conrad’s successes in the east, they were

surpassed by his brilliant acquisition of a new kingdom in the west,

where in 1032 he obtained the possession of the kingdom of Arles.

[Sidenote: Union of the Arelate with the Empire, 1032.]

The kingdom of Arles or Burgundy had fallen into evil days. During the

long reigns of Conrad the Pacific (937–993) and Rudolf III. (993–1032)

all power had fallen into the hands of the territorial magnates, and now

the threatened extinction of the royal house seemed likely to plunge the

Arelate into worse confusion. Rudolf III. was old and childless, and had

long sought to make arrangements to prevent the dissolution of his

kingdom with his death. In 1007 he had concluded with Henry II., his

nephew, an agreement by which Burgundy was to fall on his death to the

German monarch, but the Burgundian nobles had more than once forced him

to renounce his treaty. An increasing sense of his powerlessness drew

Rudolf, who was Gisela’s uncle, more closely to Conrad II. He hurried to

Rome to be present at his coronation, and he trusted entirely to him for

protection against his turbulent nobility. The contract of succession

was renewed, and on Rudolf’s death, in 1032, Conrad entered into

possession of the Arelate. Count Odo of Champagne set himself up as a

rival and national king, but the German portions of the Arelate favoured

Conrad from the beginning. In 1033 he was chosen king, and crowned at

Ueberlingen, near Constance; and in 1034 Odo was forced into submission,

while Conrad triumphantly wore his crown at Geneva and received the

homage of the lords of Burgundy. Henceforward the kingdom of Arles was

indissolubly united with the Empire. Despite the small amount of power

which even the strongest Emperors could exercise in the Arelate, the

acquisition was one of no small importance. The Arelate was for the most

part a Romance land, and its union with the Empire made the Empire less

German, and, for some generations at least, prevented the natural

tendency to union between France and the Burgundian lands from being

carried out. Moreover, the acquisition of the Arelate, by virtue of a

contract of succession, increased the already strong tendency towards

hereditary monarchy in Germany and Italy. Again, Burgundy was the chief

home of the Cluniacs, and one very important consequence of its

absorption by Conrad was a gradual increase of Cluniac influence all

over the Empire. And most of all, the new-won kingdom was useful to the

Emperors as acting as a sort of buffer-state to protect Italy from

French interference. The attempt of William of Poitou had taught Conrad

the necessity of thus guarding the Italian frontier. For the next few

generations the acquisition of the Arelate made such projects more

difficult. Supplementing the final adhesion of Lotharingia to the

Eastern Kingdom, the lapse of the Arelate completed the absorption of

the ‘Middle Kingdom’ in the German Empire. Of the threefold partition of

Europe by the Treaty of Verdun in 843, only the ancient dominions of

Charles the Bald—France, in the narrower sense—were outside the powers

of the Emperor. Henceforth Conrad ruled not only all the lands that had

gone in 843 to Louis the German, but also over the districts that had

then fallen to the share of the Emperor Lothair. Two-thirds of the

Carolingian Empire were thus concentrated under Conrad.

[Sidenote: Feudal benifices declared hereditary.]

Ten years of Conrad’s rule had now brought the Holy Empire to a point of

solid prosperity that was seldom surpassed. But Conrad saw that there

were still great dangers inherent in his position, and foremost among

these was the smallness of the number of the feudal dignitaries with

whom he had direct legal dealings. There were no longer indeed the five

national dukedoms in their old united strength and dignity. There were

no longer dukes of Franconia; Lorraine was already divided into two

distinct duchies, of Upper and Lower Lorraine. Swabia was showing signs

of a similar tendency to bifurcation; Bavaria, after the rearrangement

of 976, was in a much less imposing position than under the Saxon

Emperors, and even in Saxony the margraves were a strong counterpoise to

the more imposing but not more powerful dukes. In the last generations

the more vigorous of the counts and margraves had shaken off their

dependence on the dukes, and aspired to stand in immediate relations

with the Emperor. Yet the whole drift of the time was towards feudalism,

and towards making a limited number of tenants-in-chief, whether dukes,

margraves or counts, the sole persons with whom the Emperor had any

direct relations. Secure in their own hereditary tenure of their fiefs

and allodial properties, the great lords of Germany claimed an absolute

control over all their vassals. The old tie of national allegiance that

bound every subject to his sovereign had fallen into neglect as compared

with the new link of feudal dependence of vassal on lord. The leading

tenants-in-chief considered that their powers over their vassals were so

absolute that it was the bounden duty of a tenant to follow his lord to

the field, even against his overlord. With the same object of

strengthening their own position, the great lords strove to prevent the

fiefs of their vassals from assuming that hereditary character which

they had already acquired in practice, if not in theory, for their own

vast estates.

Conrad showed a shrewd sense of self-interest in posing as the friend of

the lesser tenants against the great vassals of the crown. Whether he

also secured the best interests of Germany is not quite so clear. The

great vassals were strong enough to maintain order; the lesser

feudalists had neither their resources nor their traditions of

statecraft. It was too late to revive with any real effect the national

tie of allegiance, and the scanty means of an early mediæval king had

always made somewhat illusory great schemes of national unity. Conrad

did his best for the protection of the under-tenants by establishing for

them also that hereditary possession of their benefices which gave them

some sort of permanent position over against their overlords. This was

secured in Germany by a mere recognition of the growing custom of

heredity, though in Italy a formal law was necessary to attain the same

end. Another advantage won by Conrad by this action was that in securing

the recognition of the principle of heredity in every fief, he made a

long step towards securing the heredity of the crown. For Conrad, much

more distinctly than his Saxon predecessors, sought definitely to make

both the royal and imperial crown hereditary in his house. As a further

step towards breaking down the greater nobility, he strove to get rid of

the national duchies altogether. He persuaded the Bavarians to elect the

young King Henry as their duke, and, on the death of his last step-son,

gave Swabia also to his destined successor. On the death of his old

rival, Conrad of Carinthia, the great Carinthian mark was also handed

over to Henry. At the end of Conrad’s reign, Saxony and Lorraine were

the only duchies still held by independent princes. Like his

predecessors, Conrad used the bishops as the means of carrying on the

government and checking the growth of the lay aristocracy. Following the

example of the chief ecclesiastics, he encouraged the development of a

new class of hereditary _ministeriales_, who devoted their lives to the

service of the crown, and soon built up a new official body that enabled

his successors to largely dispense with the interested help of the

episcopate in carrying on the daily task of the administration of the

kingdom.

Conrad was so successful with this policy in Germany and Burgundy that

he desired to extend it to Italy. But the spirit of independence was

already deeply rooted south of the Alps, and the very prelates who had

called Conrad to help them against their lay rivals, now looked with

suspicion on a policy that deprived churchman and lay noble alike of

their cherished immunities. [Sidenote: Conrad’s strife with Aribert,

1036–1039.] Aribert of Milan had long aspired to a position of almost

complete independence. His dream was to make the see of St. Ambrose a

sort of North Italian patriarchate, and at the same time he wished to

combine with ecclesiastical ascendency an organised temporal power. His

twofold ambition was exactly that of the Papacy at a later period, and

for the moment Milan seemed stronger than Rome. The citizens of Milan,

more obedient to their bishops than the turbulent Romans, were zealous

partisans of Aribert; but the smaller nobles, who saw in the fulfilment

of his plans the destruction of their own independence, rose as one man

against him. Civil war broke out in Lombardy between the friends and

foes of Aribert. So dangerous was the outlook that in 1036 Conrad again

crossed the Alps in the hope of restoring peace in North Italy.

Aribert was summoned to a Diet at Pavia; but he loftily declared that he

would surrender no single right of the church of St. Ambrose, and was

soon in open war against the Emperor. Conrad saw his only chance of

overcoming the archbishop in winning over the smaller nobility to his

side. In 1037 he issued the famous edict which made fiefs hereditary in

Italy, thus doing for the south by a single stroke what gradual custom

and policy had slowly procured for the north. He also promised to exact

from his vassals no greater burdens than those already usually paid to

him. But these measures, though increasing the party of Conrad in Italy,

were not enough at once to overcome Aribert, who, secure in the hearty

support of the Milanese citizens, defied not only the threats of Conrad

but also the condemnation of Rome, which the Count of Tusculum, who then

occupied the papal throne, willingly put at the service of the Emperor.

In 1038 Conrad was forced by urgent business to recross the Alps,

leaving Aribert unsubdued. Next year he died suddenly at Utrecht. ‘No

man,’ says a Saxon annalist, ‘regretted his death.’ Yet if Conrad was

unpopular, he was singularly successful. Though he had failed to get the

better of Aribert, he had obtained his object in everything else that he

undertook. He left the royal authority established on such a solid basis

that his son, King Henry, already crowned King of Germany and Burgundy,

and already Duke of Bavaria and Swabia, now stepped into the complete

possession of his father’s power, as if he were already the heir of an

hereditary state. Henry III. was the first German king to succeed

without opposition or rebellion.

[Sidenote: Henry III., 1039–1056.]

Henry III. was now two-and-twenty years of age, and had been carefully

educated for his great position. Gisela had procured for him the best of

literary teachers, while Conrad himself had taken care that he should

excel in all knightly exercises, and go through a sound drilling in war,

law, and statecraft. He had already won martial glory against the Poles

and Hungarians, while he had acquired political experience as virtual,

if not formal, co-regent with his father. He was now able to take up his

father’s work, and while carrying it on essentially in the old lines, to

infuse it with a new spirit. For the gifted young king, though

inheriting to the full the practical wisdom of his father, soared far

above the cold self-seeking and hard selfishness of the least attractive

of the great German Emperors. Under his strong and genial rule, the Holy

Empire again became a great ideal, though it was now an ideal that had

little that was visionary or fantastic about it. The seventeen years of

his reign witnessed the culminating point of the power of the mediæval

Empire. Under him Germany effectively ruled the destinies of the world.

The early troubles that had attended the building up of the kingdom were

over. The later troubles that sprang from the struggle of the

ecclesiastical and temporal power had not yet begun.

A series of signal triumphs in the east first proclaimed to the world

the greatness of the new king. Poland, Bohemia, and Hungary were all

alike matters of concern to Henry. [Sidenote: Poland, Bohemia, and

Hungary made fiefs of the Empire.] But Poland, so mighty a few years

before, was distracted by civil strife, and attacked by the rising power

of Bohemia, now the strongest Slavonic state. It was a light matter for

Henry to retain Poland as a feudatory of the Empire. But it involved a

long struggle before Bohemia, under its warlike Duke Bretislav, could be

forced to accept the same position. It was Bretislav’s ambition to make

himself a king, and to secure for the Bohemian bishopric at Prague the

position of an archbishopric, so that a great Slavonic kingdom,

independent both in Church and State, might centre round the Bohemian

table-land. But Henry forced his way through the mountains of the border

and threatened Prague itself. In despair Bretislav did homage to him for

Bohemia and Moravia, and even for the outlying district of Silesia,

which he had conquered from the weak Polish monarchy and made an

integral part of the Bohemian kingdom. Even greater difficulties beset

Henry in Hungary, where a heathen reaction had set Aba, a member of the

hero race of Arpad, on the throne. In 1042 Henry invaded Hungary and

dethroned Aba, but the Hungarian king was soon restored, and it was not

until a third expedition in 1044 that Henry finally succeeded in

destroying his power. Aba’s defeat secured the complete triumph of the

German king. Peter, the new king of Hungary, performed homage to Henry,

thus making Hungary, like Poland and Bohemia, a fief of the Empire. In

1045 Henry visited Hungary, and received the submission of the Magyar

magnates. In pious gratitude for his victory Henry sent the gilded

lance, which Peter had given to him as an emblem of his dependence, as a

votive offering to the Papacy. A few years later another Arpad, Andrew,

dethroned the weak Peter, and gave a more national direction to the

fierce Magyar nation, though he was too conscious of Henry’s power to

break openly with him. With a row of vassal kingdoms extending to the

extremest eastward limits of Roman civilisation, the Holy Empire was

fast becoming in a very real sense the mistress of the world.

[Sidenote: Henry III. and France.]

With all his power, Henry could not hope to obtain from the princes of

the west the same formal acknowledgment of his supremacy that he had

wrested from the lords of the east. The France of Henry I. was indeed

feeble and helpless, but the early Capetian monarchy was still the

centre of a great system, and its feudatories, though constantly at war

with their king and with each other, would be likely to make common

cause against a German pretender to universal rule. Henry III. was

content to keep on friendly terms with his neighbours beyond the Rhine,

and, as a good means of securing French friendship, he chose a wife from

among the greater vassals of the Capetian throne. In 1043 he married

Agnes of Poitou, the youngest daughter of that Count William of Poitou

who, in his youth, had competed with Conrad the Salic for the crown of

Italy. Agnes exercised henceforth strong influence over her husband, and

in particular upon his ecclesiastical policy.

With the eastern kings paying him tribute and the monarch of the west

seeking his friendship, Henry had now leisure to improve the internal

condition of his dominions. Despite all that his predecessors had done,

Germany and Italy were still in the utmost disorder. [Sidenote: Henry

III. and Germany.] Conrad II.’s policy of encouraging the smaller

nobility had tended to increase the private wars and local feuds that

made existence so difficult and dreary for the simple freeman, and so

dangerous even to the great lord. Henry now made strenuous efforts to

restore peace to Germany. At a diet at Constance Henry solemnly forgave

all his enemies, and craved their forgiveness in turn, calling upon the

magnates to follow his example and lay aside their feuds with each

other. Some degree of success followed this appeal, especially as Henry

had partly abandoned his father’s policy of concentrating the national

duchies in his own hands. Germany was so vast that it could hardly be

effectively ruled from a single centre, and Henry hoped that henceforth

the dukes whom he set up would be faithful ministers, and not champions

of local independence.

Italy demanded Henry’s utmost care, and the critical position of the

Papacy closely connected his policy with his attitude towards the

Church. Since his marriage with Agnes, Henry had become more attentive

to the teachings of Cluny, and was keenly alive to the scandals which

still disgraced the Roman Church. No ecclesiastical reformation could be

complete which did not begin with the head of the Church, and it was

only by a great manifestation of his power that Henry could purify the

Papacy. [Sidenote: Henry III. and Italy.] The Counts of Tusculum still

kept their tight hold over the Roman Church, which had almost become

their hereditary possession. After two brothers—the reforming Benedict

VIII. (1012–1024) and the reactionary John XIX. (1024–1033)—had held in

turn St. Peter’s chair, a third member of the Tusculan house, their

nephew, Benedict IX., succeeded, despite his extreme youth, to the papal

throne (1033). His excesses soon gave occasion to universal scandal, and

in 1044 the Romans set up an Antipope in Sylvester III. Family influence

still upheld Benedict, but next year new troubles arising, he sold the

Papacy in a panic to a new pretender, who called himself Gregory VI.,

and who, despite his simoniacal election, soon attracted the reformers

around him by his zeal in putting an end to abuses. But Benedict soon

repented of his bargain, and sought to regain his position as Pope. The

result was that three rival claimants to the Papacy distracted Rome with

their brawls, and none of them had sufficient power to get rid of the

others.

A synod assembled at Rome, and called on Henry III. to put an end to the

crisis. In 1046 he crossed the Alps, and held a Church Council at Pavia,

in which he issued an edict condemning simony. [Sidenote: Synod of

Sutri, 1046.] In December 1046 he held another synod at Sutri, near

Rome, where two of the three claimants to the Papacy were deposed. The

third claimant was deposed in a third synod held in Rome itself.

Suidgar, Bishop of Bamberg, was chosen Pope through Henry’s influence,

and enthroned on Christmas Day as Clement II., conferring on the same

day the imperial crown on Henry and Agnes. Accompanied by Clement, the

Emperor made a progress through southern Italy, which he reduced to

submission. Grave troubles on the Lower Rhine now brought Henry back to

Germany; yet even in his absence his influence remained supreme in

Italy. Clement II. died in 1048; but a whole succession of German Popes,

the nominees of the Emperor, were now accepted by the Romans with hardly

a murmur. The first of these—Damasus II., formerly Poppo, Bishop of

Brixen, died after a few weeks’ reign. His successor, the Emperor’s

kinsman, Bruno of Toul, took the name of Leo IX. (1048–1054). Short as

was his pontificate, the result of his work was epoch-making in several

directions. During the reign of his successor, Victor II. (1054–1057),

Henry III. paid his second and last visit to Italy, the results of which

we will speak of later. No sooner was he over the Alps than a rebellion

broke out in Bavaria that necessitated his immediate return. The

presence of the Emperor soon extinguished the revolt, but the rising

taught Henry the insecurity of his position, and he now sought to

conciliate his foes.

[Sidenote: Death of Henry III., 1056.]

In the summer of 1056 Henry held his court at Goslar, where he was

visited by Victor II.; but in September he fell sick, and had only time

to take further measures to secure his son’s succession, when death

overtook him, on 5th October, in the thirty-ninth year of his age. Under

him the mediæval Empire attained its apogee. Germany was now almost a

nation; Italy a submissive dependency; the Papacy had been reformed, and

the Church purified. A child of six years old was now called to the

throne, whose burden had been almost too heavy for his father. With the

accession of Henry IV. the decline of the Empire begins.

GENEALOGY OF THE SAXON AND SALIAN EMPERORS

HENRY I., the Fowler, Duke of the Saxons,

German King (919–936)

_m._ Matilda

|

+-------------+--------------+------+------+---------------+---------------+

| | | | | |

Thankmar OTTO I. Henry, Bruno, Gerberga, Hedwig,

(illegitimate) (936–973) Duke of Archbishop of _m._ 1. Giselbert, _m._ Hugh

_d._ 938 _m._ 1. Edith Bavaria, Cologne Duke of Lorraine the Great

of England _m._ Judith, 2. Louis IV.,

2. Adelaide, daughter of King of West

widow of Arnulf, Franks

Lothair, Duke of

King of Bavaria

Italy |

| +---------------------------+--------------+

(1) (2) | | |

+-----------+----+-----------+----------------+ | |

| | | | Henry II., Hedwig,

Ludolf, OTTO II. Liutgarde, William Duke of _m._ Burkhard,

Duke of (973–983) _m._ Conrad the (illegitimate), Bavaria, the Duke of

Swabia _m._ Theophano, Red, Duke of Archbishop of Quarrelsome Swabia

| daughter of Lorraine Mainz |

OTTO, Romanus II., | +------+------+

Duke of Eastern | | |

Swabia Emperor | HENRY II., Gisela,

| | the Saint _m._ St.

| | (1002–1024) Stephen

| | _m._ Cunigunde of Hungary

OTTO III. Otto

(983–1002) |

|

+------------+------------+

| | |

Henry Bruno Conrad

| Pope Gregory V. |

| (996–999) |

| |

| +------+-------+

| | |

Gisela, _m._ CONRAD II., Conrad of Bruno,

Duchess of | the Salic Carinthia, Bishop of Toul,

Swabia | (1024–1039) rival to Pope Leo IX.

| | Conrad II. (1048–1054)

Ernest, |

Duke of |

Swabia |

|

HENRY III.

(1039–1056)

_m._ Agnes, daughter of William,

Count of Poitou

|

HENRY IV.

(1056–1106)

_m._ 1. Bertha

2. Praxedis of Russia

|

+-----------+-------+---------------------+

| | |

Conrad, HENRY V. Agnes,

Anti-Cæsar, (1106–1125) _m._ Frederick,

_d._ 1101 _m._ Mathilda of England Duke of Swabia,

ancestor of the

Hohenstaufen

The Empire and the Papacy, 918-1273 · 第 3 / 22 章