FREDERICK BARBAROSSA AND ALEXANDER III. THE RENEWED CONFLICT OF PAPACY
AND EMPIRE (1152–1190).[18]
Election and Policy of Frederick I.—Frederick and Adrian IV.—Fall of
Arnold of Brescia—Frederick’s early German Policy—The Burgundian
Marriage and the Diet of Besançon—Breach with the Papacy—Frederick’s
Second Italian Journey—Diet of Roncaglia and Destruction of
Milan—Alexander III. and the Antipopes—The Lombard League—Battle of
Legnano—Peace of Constance—Frederick and Germany—Fall of Henry the
Lion—Division of the Saxon Duchy—Union of Sicily with the Empire—The
Lateran Council and the last days of Alexander III.—His
Successors—Urban III. and Frederick—The Crusade and Death of
Frederick—His Personality and Character.
[Sidenote: Election of Frederick I., 1152.]
‘It is the cardinal principle of the law of the Roman Empire,’ wrote
Otto of Freising, ‘that the succession depends not upon hereditary
right, but on the election of the princes.’ According to this precept
the magnates of Germany met in March 1152 at Frankfurt to appoint a
successor to Conrad III. Some of the barons of Italy attended the
assembly. ‘There were,’ wrote Otto, ‘two mighty houses in the Roman
Empire, one that of the Henrys of Weiblingen, the other that of the
Welfs of Altorf. The one was wont to furnish mighty emperors, the other
puissant dukes. These families, jealous of each other, had been long
accustomed to disturb the tranquillity of the commonwealth by their
feuds, but in the days of Henry V. Frederick, the duke, representative
of the royal stock, had married the daughter of Henry, Duke of the
Bavarians, the representative of the ducal family. The offspring of this
union was Duke Frederick, and the princes, regarding not only the energy
and valour of the young duke, but considering that he shared the blood
of both houses, and like a corner-stone could bind the two together,
chose him as their king that thus with God’s blessing he might end their
ancient quarrel.’
[Sidenote: Frederick’s policy.]
The new king was well worthy of the general confidence which he
inspired. Already thirty years of age, he had abundantly displayed rare
gifts both as a statesman and as a general. He had administered his
duchy of Swabia with energy and success. He had combined loyalty to his
uncle Conrad with friendship for his cousin Henry the Lion, and his
mediation had saved Duke Welf VI. in the time of his greatest disaster.
His exploits on the Crusade had spread abroad his fame, and the few
survivors who had reached home in safety recognised that they owed their
lives to his courage and policy. He was admired for his kingly bearing
and fair proportions, for the chivalry and generosity of his character,
for his independent attitude towards the Church, for the subtle policy
so rarely combined with the simple virtues of the hero of romance.
Frederick threw himself, with all the passionate ardour of his
character, into the difficult task of restoring the waning glories of
the Empire. For the thirty-seven years of life that remained to him, he
never faltered in his task. To him Germany and Italy were but two
sections of that Holy Roman Empire whose rights and dignities he strove
with all his might to uphold. ‘During all his reign,’ wrote a
chronicler, ‘nothing was nearer his heart than re-establishing the
Empire of Rome on its ancient basis.’ To him every right that had been
exercised by Justinian or Constantine, by Charlemagne or Otto the Great,
was literally his right as the lawful successor of these mighty rulers.
He has been very truly described as an ‘imperialist Hildebrand,’ and
Hildebrand himself had not a more lofty consciousness of his high
purpose and divine mission to establish God’s kingdom on earth. But he
was no dreamer like Otto, ‘the wonder of the world.’ He strove to
realise his lofty ideals with shrewd practical wisdom and businesslike
command of details. The great jurists of Bologna, who constantly stood
round his throne, not only taught him that the Emperor was lord of the
world, and that the will of the prince had the force of law, but
illustrated to the most minute detail the individual prerogatives of his
office. His German subjects re-echoed these sentiments, and his uncle,
Bishop Otto of Freising, taught that to the Emperor belonged the
protection of the whole world. When bitter experience showed him that
all his strength and all his faith were of little avail in setting up
again a polity which the age had outlived, he had perforce to
distinguish between his position as German King and Roman Emperor, and
apply one method in breaking down the turbulent feudalism of his
northern kingdom and another in checking the growing spirit of municipal
independence in the lands beyond the Alps. In Italy his path seemed
strewn with disasters, and even in Germany he obtained no very brilliant
success. But if he failed, his was one of the most magnificent failures
in history, a failure which did not prevent him from handing on his
power almost unimpaired to his son. With all his faults, Frederick
remains the noblest embodiment of mediæval kingship, the most imposing,
the most heroic, and the most brilliant of the long line of German
princes, who strove to realise the impracticable but glorious political
ideal of the Middle Ages.
Frederick from the first directed his attention to Italy, and in March
1153 concluded a treaty with the fugitive Eugenius III. at Constance. By
this he agreed to make no peace with Roger of Sicily without the
approval of the Curia, and to reduce the rebellious City to obedience to
the Pope, in return for the promise of the imperial crown and papal
support against his enemies. [Sidenote: The settlement of Germany,
1152–1154.] But Frederick was too wise to hurry across the Alps before
he was assured of the obedience of Germany, where from the moment of his
coronation he went on progress, receiving the homage of his vassals and
seeking to appease ancient feuds. The loyalty of Henry the Lion was
rewarded by the formal grant of the duchy of Bavaria, while Frederick’s
own duchy of Swabia was granted to his cousin Frederick of Rothenburg.
Berthold of Zähringen, a possible rival for this position, was
conciliated by his appointment as rector or viceroy in Burgundy. Henry,
Archbishop of Mainz, paid the penalty of his solitary opposition to
Frederick’s election by his deposition from his archbishopric on a
charge of wasting the lands of his see. Even beyond the limits of
Germany, the Scandinavian and Slavonic princes were taught that there
was again an Emperor, and the disputed succession to Denmark was settled
by Frederick’s mediation, and the king, Svend, who owed his throne to
Frederick’s action, submitted to become his feudal dependant. But after
two years the outlook in Italy became so threatening that Frederick was
compelled to leave his German work half undone and hurry across the Alps
with a small force hastily collected. [Sidenote: Frederick’s first
Italian visit, 1154–55.] Accompanied by Henry the Lion, and the Bavarian
palatine, Otto of Wittelsbach, and only 1800 knights, he crossed the
Brenner in October 1154 and appeared in the plain of Lombardy. He held
his Diet at Roncaglia near Piacenza, and received the homage of the
barons and cities of Italy. Milan held sullenly aloof, but small as was
Frederick’s following, the destruction of Tortona (Easter, 1155), an
ally of Milan, taught the Italians that the Emperor was to be feared.
After receiving the Lombard crown at Pavia, Frederick marched through
Tuscany to Rome.
The condition of the Papacy was still critical, though the persistence
of Eugenius III. had broken the back of the Roman opposition, and Arnold
of Brescia had already begun to lose influence among the fickle Romans.
But Eugenius III. had died on 8th July 1153, and his successor, the mild
Anastasius IV., dwelt continuously in Rome until his death, after a
reign of less than a year and a half, on 3rd December 1154. The next
Pope, Adrian IV., was the only Englishman who ever occupied the throne
of St. Peter. The son of a poor man, Nicholas Breakspear had adopted the
life of a wandering scholar, and had worked his way up to the headship
of the house of Canons Regular of St. Rufus, near Valence on the Rhone.
[Sidenote: Adrian IV., 1154–1159.] His stern rule excited the hostility
of the canons whose complaints to Eugenius III. first attracted the
Pope’s notice to him. In 1146 he was made cardinal-bishop of Albano, and
was soon afterwards sent on an important legation to Scandinavia, in the
course of which he freed the northern churches from their dependency on
Germany, by setting up the new archbishopric of Trondhjem. Soon after
his return he was elected to the Papacy. Adrian IV. was a man of high
character, sound learning, and kindly disposition. He fully felt the
responsibility of his great office, declaring that ‘the Pope’s tiara was
splendid because it burnt like fire.’ His pontificate began amidst
street-fights in which a cardinal was slain; but Adrian took the strong
measure of laying Rome under interdict, and the inconstant citizens,
whose gains were decreased by the refusal of pilgrims to visit a city
under the Pope’s ban, made their submission to him and drove out Arnold
of Brescia, who spent the short remainder of his life as a wandering
fugitive. But William, the new King of Sicily, devastated Campania, and
threatened to march on Rome. In his despair, Adrian renewed with
Frederick the Treaty of Constance, and went out to Nepi to meet him. The
good understanding was almost destroyed when Frederick refused to hold
the bridle of the Pope’s horse and assist him to dismount, and the
alliance was only renewed by Frederick’s submission, which was rendered
necessary by the sullen hostility of the Romans to Frederick and Adrian
alike. [Sidenote: Coronation of Frederick, 18th June 1155.] On 18th June
Adrian crowned Frederick Emperor in St. Peter’s, hastily and almost
secretly, for fear of the Romans, who, on hearing of it, rushed to arms.
Frederick could only hold his ground by hard fighting, and soon lack of
provisions forced him to flee from Rome, taking the Pope with him. The
fierce heat of the Italian summer had already decimated Frederick’s
little army, and he now resolved to recross the Alps, leaving Adrian to
his fate. [Sidenote: Death of Arnold of Brescia.] The only act of power
that had followed the reconciliation of Pope and Emperor was the
execution of Arnold of Brescia, who had been taken prisoner in Tuscany
by the Emperor, and having been handed over to the cardinals, was
condemned and executed as a heretic. His dead body was burnt at the
stake. ‘His ashes,’ says Otto of Freising, ‘were thrown into the Tiber,
that his relics might not be worshipped by the obstinate populace.’
Arnold’s work, the Roman Commune, lived after him, and Adrian, after the
Emperor’s departure, was forced to make terms with it.
[Sidenote: Troubles in Germany.]
On recrossing the Brenner, Frederick began anew the task of reconciling
Germany, which had been interrupted by his Italian journey. Fierce feuds
had burst out all over Germany, and in particular the quarrels of
Arnold, the new Archbishop of Mainz, with Hermann, Count Palatine of the
Rhine, had laid waste the Rhineland. The establishment of Henry the Lion
as Duke of Bavaria had been bitterly resented by Frederick’s uncle,
Henry of Austria, called, from his favourite oath, ‘Henry Jasomirgott,’
who still waged fierce war against his rival for the possession of his
former duchy. But the return of the Emperor was soon marked by good
results, and from the measures taken to appease the aggrieved
feudatories sprang a new departure in the territorial history of
Germany. In September 1156 he ended the rivalry of Henry the Lion and
Henry of Austria by investing the latter with Austria, erected into a
new duchy absolutely independent of Bavaria, and itself indivisible,
hereditary in the house of Babenberg even in the female line, and exempt
from many of the burdens usually imposed on the great fiefs. [Sidenote:
The Duchy of Austria established, 1156.] In the creation of the duchy of
Austria, Frederick prepared the way for the more sweeping changes in the
same direction which followed the fall of Henry the Lion in 1180.
Leaving the control of northern and eastern Germany to Albert the Bear
and the two Henrys, Frederick attempted to consolidate his own dynastic
power in the south-west. He punished the disorderly Count Palatine
Hermann for his attacks on Mainz, by depriving him of his possessions.
These he granted to his half-brother Conrad, his father’s son by his
second marriage, and already possessor of the hereditary Salic estates
round Worms, the Palatinate of the Rhine. Conrad united these two
districts to form a new territorial power, that had for its centre the
recently-founded castle and town of Heidelberg, and was the
starting-point of the later Palatinate. In 1156 Frederick married
Beatrice, the heiress of Renaud of Macon, Count of Burgundy.[19]
[Sidenote: Frederick’s marriage and Burgundian policy.] This match
immensely strengthened the imperial power in that Middle Kingdom where
it was always weak, and moreover materially extended the domains of
Frederick in that region where his influence was already strongest. His
direct sway now stretched from the Swabian uplands across the middle
Rhine to the Vosges, and thence south to the neighbourhood of Lyons.
Such an accession of power necessarily brought about the end of the
nominal Zähringen rectorate, but Frederick bought off Duke Berthold by
lands and privileges beyond the Jura. It was only by freely sacrificing
his sovereign rights that Frederick was able to persuade the magnates of
Germany to promise him such adequate support in his projected expedition
into Italy as would enable him to cross the Alps as a conqueror and not
as a suppliant. For the moment his policy seemed extremely successful.
Besides conciliating Germany, he had won back Burgundy. He had
conciliated Duke Vratislav of Bohemia, who had refused him homage, by
allowing him to crown himself king. He had forced King Boleslav IV. of
Poland to recognise his overlordship by a brilliant invasion that got as
far into Poland as Gnesen. Svend of Denmark was still his obedient
vassal. Henry II. of England wrote acknowledging in general terms the
supremacy of the Emperor over all his dominions. In his chancellor
Rainald of Dassel, he found a zealous and able chief minister. ‘In
Germany,’ wrote Ragewin, the continuator of Otto of Freising, ‘there was
now such an unwonted peace that men seemed changed, the land a different
one, the very heaven had become milder and softer.’ [Sidenote: Diet of
Besançon, 1157.] Frederick’s early glory culminated in the brilliant
Diet at Besançon, the chief town of his wife’s inheritance, in October
1157, where ‘all the earth,’ exclaimed Ragewin, ‘filled with admiration
for the clemency and justice of the Emperor, and moved both by love and
fear, strove to overwhelm him with novel praises and new honours.’ This
Diet witnessed a hot dispute between Frederick and the Papacy.
[Sidenote: Alliance of Adrian IV. and the Normans.]
Ever since Frederick’s sudden withdrawal from Rome, his relations with
Adrian IV. had been exceedingly strained. Both claimed to be lord of the
world, and neither could agree as to the respective limits of their
power. For a moment the common fear of the Italian communes and alarm at
the revolutionary heresy of Arnold might unite them in a temporary
truce. The pressing danger once over, they fell back into their natural
relations of watchful hostility. When Frederick withdrew from Italy, he
had neither reduced Rome to the obedience of the Pope, nor had chastised
the forays of the new King William of Sicily. Adrian soon found that he
would have to fight for his own hand. He cleverly formed a league with
the feudal barons of Apulia, who were ripe for revolt against their
overpowerful sovereign. He negotiated with the Greek Emperor, Manuel I.,
who was willing to fight William, if the Pope would grant him three
Neapolitan seaports. Alarmed at such a formidable coalition, William
became the Pope’s vassal, and received in return the investiture of
Apulia and Sicily. Adrian IV. thus renewed the policy of Leo IX. and
Innocent II., and now further strengthened himself by an agreement with
the Romans. By accepting the Roman Commune, he was allowed again to take
up his residence in the City. Without the least help from Frederick,
Adrian had turned the chief enemies of the Holy See into allies.
[Sidenote: Quarrel of Frederick and Adrian.]
Frederick bitterly resented the Pope’s alliances with William and the
Romans, which he regarded as breaches of faith. Adrian feared the
increased power of Frederick, and had a more tangible grievance in
Frederick’s imprisonment of the Swedish Archbishop of Lund, an old
friend of Adrian’s in the days of his northern mission. He accordingly
sent the most trusted of his advisers, Roland Bandinelli of Siena,
Cardinal and Chancellor of the Roman Church, to state his grievances to
the Emperor at the Diet of Besançon. [Sidenote: The Cardinal Roland at
Besançon.] Roland’s first salutation of the Emperor was threatening.
‘The Pope,’ he said, ‘greets you as a father and the cardinals greet you
as brothers.’ Frederick was irritated at the new and unheard-of claim of
the cardinals to rank as the equals of Cæsar. But he was still more
annoyed at the recitation of a papal letter, which boasted that the Pope
had conferred many benefits on the Emperor.[20] The Latin phrase
(_conferre beneficia_) used by Adrian might bear the technical sense of
granting a feudal benefice from a lord to a vassal, and Rainald the
Chancellor took care to translate it in that sense to the illiterate
magnates. The fiercest indignation burst out, which rose to fever heat
when Cardinal Roland answered the objectors by inquiring, ‘From whom
then does the Emperor hold the Empire if not from the Pope?’ In answer
to the Pope’s implied claim of feudal supremacy, the Emperor circulated
a declaration of his rights throughout the Empire. ‘The Empire is held
by us,’ he declared, ‘through the election of the princes from God
alone, who gave the world to be ruled by the two necessary swords, and
taught through St. Peter that men should fear God and honour the king.
Whosoever says that we received the imperial crown from the lord Pope as
a benefice goes against the Divine command and the teaching of Peter,
and is guilty of falsehood.’ Early next year Adrian was forced to
explain that he had used ‘beneficium’ in its general sense of ‘benefit’
and not in its feudal sense of ‘fief.’ A complete breach was thus
prevented, but the ill-will still smouldered on and soon found a chance
of bursting out again into flame.
[Sidenote: Frederick’s Second Italian Journey, 1158–1162.]
In July 1158 Frederick, at the head of a great army, crossed the Alps
for the second time. ‘The arrogance of the Milanese,’ he declared, ‘has
long caused them to raise their heads against the Roman Empire, and is
now disturbing all Italy. We have therefore resolved to turn against
them all the forces of the Empire.’ Lombardy was divided into two rival
leagues, which bitterly hated each other. While Brescia, Crema, Parma,
Piacenza, and Modena followed the league of Milan, Pavia headed a second
confederacy, which included Lodi, Como, and Cremona, which fearing the
power of Milan, gave its support to the Emperor. [Sidenote: Submission
of the Lombard Towns.] After a fierce resistance Milan also made its
submission, and promised to submit to the Emperor the ratification of
the appointment of their consuls.
Flushed with his easy triumph, Frederick held in November a second Diet
at Roncaglia. The most famous civilians of Bologna attended and declared
the imperial rights so vigorously that Frederick took their order under
his special protection, and gave doctors of laws the privileges of
knights. [Sidenote: Diet at Roncaglia.] It was announced that the
Emperor had resolved to take all his royal rights back into his own
hands. The pleasure of the prince had the force of law, and no length of
prescription could justify usurpation. But the Emperor was willing to
reinvest both the lay and ecclesiastical lords and the towns with rights
to which they had a lawful title. Nevertheless, the supreme magistrates
of the towns were to be in all cases appointed by the king with the
assent of the citizens. Instead of the aristocratic consulate, it was
henceforth a main object of Frederick’s policy to establish a _podestà_
as the supreme governor of each town. This representative of the
imperial power was generally a stranger, with no interest or sympathy in
the town that he ruled, and universally detested as an intruder and a
despot. Immediately after the dissolution of the Diet, Rainald of Dassel
and Otto of Wittelsbach went round to the various Lombard cities to set
up _podestàs_. Milan, disgusted at the Emperor’s ignoring the terms of
their former capitulation, refused to receive its _podestà_, and broke
into revolt. Other cities followed its example—one of which, Crema, was
carried by assault by Frederick after a terrible siege. Milan held out
for three years, and had to face the whole of Frederick’s power, until
at last famine forced it to open its gates. Frederick hardened his heart
to the prayers of the Milanese, and made a great favour of allowing them
their lives. [Sidenote: Revolt and destruction of Milan.] The chief men
of the city were kept as hostages; the walls and defences were
destroyed; and the ancient inhabitants were forbidden to dwell in the
open village that now represented the city of St. Ambrose, where a few
ancient churches, conspicuous among which was the Basilica of the patron
saint, alone arose amidst the ruins. The relics of the three Magi of the
East were secured by Rainald of Dassel for his own church at Cologne, of
which they have ever since remained the chief glory. The municipal
independence of Italy seemed extinct. The Emperor was king as well as
overlord.
The Church witnessed with extreme alarm the growing fortunes of the
Emperor. Adrian IV. showed his ill-will by putting obstacles in the way
of the appointment of imperial nominees to vacant bishoprics, and
Frederick retaliated by reverting in his correspondence with the Pope to
a more ancient but less respectful form of address. In great disgust
Adrian encouraged Milan to resist, and got ready for an open breach. He
hoped to form an Italian league against the Emperor, and did not scruple
to invoke the aid of the schismatic Manuel against the orthodox
Frederick. But, on 1st September 1159, he was cut off by a sudden
illness in the midst of his preparations. The next Pope was that
Cardinal Roland whose zeal at Besançon had even outrun the zeal of
Adrian himself. [Sidenote: Alexander III. 1159–1181.] Roland assumed the
significant name of Alexander III.; and during his unusually long
pontificate of nearly twenty-two years, he continued his predecessor’s
policy with such energy that the strife of Pope and Emperor was soon
renewed with all its old intensity.
Frederick’s friends among the cardinals, finding themselves powerless to
oppose Alexander’s election, fell back on the old weapon of schism. On
the same day (7th September 1159) that the majority of the cardinals
elected Alexander, the imperialist minority of the Sacred College,
stirred up by the indefatigable Otto of Wittelsbach, declared that their
choice had fallen on the Cardinal Octavian, who assumed the name of
Victor IV. [Sidenote: The Antipope Victor IV.] Frederick returned from
the reduction of the Lombard cities to hold a council at Pavia to decide
between the rival claims, and boasted that he was following the examples
of Constantine, Charles, and Otto. Alexander utterly refused to submit
his claims to a body convoked under the sanction of the temporal sword.
‘No one,’ he declared, ‘has the right to judge me, since I am the
supreme judge of all the world.’ Though the synod of Pavia declared that
Victor was the canonical Pope, Alexander, driven out of Rome within a
few days of his election, was nevertheless looked up to as rightful
Bishop by the greater part of the Christian world. In 1160 a synod of
bishops subject to Louis VII. and Henry II. met at Toulouse and declared
for Alexander. But the lawful Pope upheld his position with great
difficulty in Italy. [Sidenote: Alexander in France.] During the first
three years of his pontificate he maintained his court at Anagni and
Terracina. In January 1162 he took ship to Genoa, whence after the fall
of Milan, a few weeks later, he fled to France. Secure of the friendship
of the two chief kings of the West, Alexander now quietly waited until
the time was ripe for his return to Italy. In 1163 he held a council at
Tours, within the dominions of Henry of Anjou, in which he
excommunicated the Antipope and his supporters, among whom Rainald of
Dassel, now Archbishop-elect of Cologne, was specially mentioned.
In 1162 Frederick returned to Germany; but not even the presence of the
Emperor could keep the German prelates firm in their adhesion to the
Antipope. Many of the clergy and most monks were on Alexander’s side, or
at least strove to avoid open hostility to Frederick by demanding a
General Council to heal the schism. The whole Cistercian and Carthusian
orders worked hard for Alexander’s interest, and many of their leaders
joined the growing band of Italian and German fugitives that swelled the
court of the exiled Pontiff in Gaul. The death of the Antipope during
Frederick’s third visit to Italy, in 1164, did not end the breach.
Rainald of Dassel procured the election of a new Antipope in the
Cardinal Guy of Crema, who styled himself Paschal III. [Sidenote: The
Antipope Paschal III.] In 1165 Frederick held a Diet at Würzburg, where
he promulgated the severest laws against the champions of Alexander,
while the Emperor and his barons bound themselves by oath never to
recognise Alexander or any of his followers as Pope. Rainald of Dassel
strove hard to bring over Henry of England to support the schismatic
Pope; but Henry, already involved in his struggle with Thomas of
Canterbury, was too prudent to confuse his local quarrel with his
primate with the general conflict of Pope and Emperor. The new Antipope
formally announced the canonisation of Charles the Great, and Frederick
went in great state to Aachen, where the bones of the great Emperor were
solemnly translated to a golden shrine, while Frederick adorned the
round Carolingian chapel with the magnificent candelabrum that is still
one of its chief ornaments. But in the same year (1165), Alexander III.
was encouraged, by the hostile attitude of the Lombards to Frederick, to
venture back into Italy, and by November was again in possession of
Rome, whence he fulminated excommunication against the Emperor.
[Sidenote: Renewal of the Town-leagues in Lombardy, 1164.]
Even after the fall of Milan, the north Italian cities still gave
Frederick trouble. In 1164 the towns of the March of Verona, among them
Verona, Vicenza, Padua, and Treviso, rose in revolt against their new
_podestàs_, and formed a league for the preservation of their liberties.
By holding in force the narrow gorge of the Adige to the north of Verona
(La Chiusa di Verona), they hoped to prevent the return of Frederick to
Italy by his usual route. Venice, already the open enemy of Frederick,
actively supported the league of Verona. On the news of Frederick’s
excommunication, the Lombard cities began to revive. Milan was rebuilt
and re-fortified, and the schismatic bishops were chased away. It was
high time for the return of the Emperor, and in November 1166 Frederick
entered upon his fourth Italian expedition. Fearing to fight the
Veronese league at Chiusa, he descended into Lombardy by the Val
Camonica. Open resistance seemed stifled by the enormous German host
that followed the Emperor; and Frederick, hurrying through the
disaffected district, marched straight on Rome. [Sidenote: Frederick’s
fourth Italian journey, 1167–1168.] After a fierce siege Frederick
captured Rome, and was again crowned by the Antipope Paschal (1st August
1167), while Alexander fled, disguised as a pilgrim, to seek shelter
with the friendly Normans at Gaeta. A terrible plague now swept away the
victorious army of Frederick, and the Lombard cities, profiting by his
misfortunes, formally renewed their league. Among the victims of the
pestilence were Rainald of Cologne, the indefatigable chancellor, and
the Emperor’s two cousins, Frederick of Rothenburg, Duke of Swabia, and
the warlike young Welf VII., son of Welf VI. of Bavaria. Frederick, with
the remnants of his army, had the utmost difficulty in effecting his
retreat to Lombardy. The Papalists boasted that God had cut off the host
of Frederick as of old He had destroyed the army of Sennacherib before
the walls of Jerusalem.
[Sidenote: The Lombard League, 1168.]
The Lombard league took its final shape in the beginning of 1168, when
Frederick was refreshing his exhausted forces at Pavia. The members
pledged themselves to aid each other against all those who would make
war against them, or would exact anything more from them than had been
customary. They also appointed rectors, chosen from among the consuls of
the several cities, for the management of federal affairs. Fear of the
Emperor had now destroyed even the jealousies of neighbouring and rival
cities, and the league now included all the towns of the northern plain,
from Milan to Venice, and from Bergamo to Bologna. Lodi itself now made
common cause with its old enemy Milan, and even the obstinate
imperialists of Pavia grudged to the beaten Emperor the protection of
its walls. All the approaches to the northern Alpine passes were blocked
by the confederate cities, and the Emperor could only get home by a long
detour through the uplands of Montferrat and Piedmont. In the spring of
1168 Frederick made his way to Susa, and thence over the Mont Cenis.
After his departure, new accessions increased the Lombard league, and
Alexander III. sent it his blessing. [Sidenote: Foundation of
Alessandria, 1168.] In the spring of 1168 the league founded a new city
in a marshy district, on the banks of the Tanaro, and called it
Alessandria in honour of its patron. Vast earthworks and a strong castle
made their creation an impregnable fortress, calculated to hold out as
long as provisions remained. The town soon prospered: the Pope erected
it into a bishopric, and settlers from all sides made it a busy centre
of trade. The foundation of Alessandria pushed the league’s territory
more to the westwards, into the region where the feudal potentates were
still strong, and where cities like Asti, Vercelli, Novara, were now
emboldened to join it. Moreover, the city protected the high road from
Milan to Genoa which gave Lombardy access to the sea, and blocked the
descent of German armies from the Burgundian passes as effectively as
the league had already blocked the northern valleys of the Alps.
[Sidenote: The Antipope Calixtus III.]
For the next six years the Lombard league was suffered to live in peace.
On the death of the Antipope Paschal in 1168, a new pretender was set
up, called Calixtus III. But for all practical purposes Italy was
independent of the Emperor. Frederick’s last partisans in north Italy,
the citizens of Pavia, and the Counts of Montferrat and Biandrate, were
constrained to submit to the league. In Germany the ecclesiastical
opposition grew under the guidance of the Archbishop of Salzburg, and
Alexander became more and more generally recognised. Renewed efforts to
win over Henry of Anjou to support the Antipope were unsuccessful, and
the humiliation of the English king after Becket’s murder was a lesson
to Frederick of the abiding might of the Church to control princes. The
growing power of Henry the Lion excited the fears of the smaller barons
and the jealousy of the Emperor. [Sidenote: Frederick’s fifth Italian
journey, 1174–1177.] But Frederick sought to avert the inevitable
conflict in order that he might revenge himself on the revolted
Lombards. Meanwhile his agents strove to gain friends for him in central
Italy, where the removal of all external control had fiercely divided
the towns of Tuscany and Romagna. In 1174 Frederick made his fifth
expedition to Italy. But the small army which he led in September over
Mont Cenis was mainly composed of his personal vassals, the stronger
princes remaining at home. Nevertheless, a revival of the imperial party
followed the reappearance of the Emperor in Italy. After destroying Susa
and capturing Asti, Frederick vigorously besieged the new city of
Alessandria—the city of straw, as the imperialists called it. Meanwhile
Christian, Archbishop of Mainz, won important successes for the Emperor
in Tuscany and Romagna, but failed at the siege of Ancona. The siege of
Alessandria lasted till April 1175, when the rectors of the league came
to its relief. Both armies prepared for battle at Montebello, but at the
very moment of the conflict negotiations were entered upon, at the
instance of the Cremonese. Yet Frederick would not accept the hard
conditions of the Lombards—the recognition of their liberties,
acknowledgment of Alexander as lawful Pope, and the incorporation of
Alessandria as a member of the league. The ‘Peace of Montebello’ was
accordingly broken, and both sides prepared to fight to the end.
[Sidenote: The battle of Legnano, 1176.]
Frederick drew fresh reinforcements from Germany for the campaign of
1176; but Henry the Lion refused to come, and a personal interview
between him and Frederick at Chiavenna did not induce him to change his
purpose. Nevertheless, with the help of his Italian friends, Frederick
was still at the head of a gallant army, while the warlike Christian of
Mainz kept the Normans in check by invading Apulia. The northern
campaign opened when Frederick left Pavia and joined the force, which
was now brought from Germany, at Como. His object now was to return with
his new troops to Pavia. But Milan blocked the direct road, and forced
the Emperor to make a circuit to the west. The Milanese anticipated this
movement by marching out of the city with their caroccio, hoping to cut
off the German host before it could reach Pavia. On 29th May the
confederates encountered the imperial army near Legnano, about seventeen
miles north-west of Milan, in the plain that stretches from the river
Olona westwards to the Ticino. The caroccio was put in the centre of the
army, and protected by a select band styled the ‘Company of Death,’ who
had sworn either to conquer or never return. The fierce charge of the
mail-clad German knights put to flight the knights of Lombardy, and
Frederick, who here commanded in person, fiercely assailed the infantry
grouped round the caroccio. For a moment the cause of the league seemed
undone. But the Emperor was unhorsed in the struggle, and the rumour
soon spread that he had fallen. The infantry in close array held their
own manfully, until the fugitive cavalry rallied and assailed the
Germans in flank. Before nightfall Frederick’s army was hopelessly
broken, and the Emperor gained Pavia, almost unattended, with the utmost
difficulty. But the citizen-soldiers went home, and did not follow up
their victory, and Cremona with other towns became so jealous of the
success of Milan that they prepared to make separate terms with the
Emperor. Frederick himself had grown weary of the struggle; and the
Archbishops of Cologne and Magdeburg, who had brought the last army from
Germany, declared that they would no longer support the Emperor, and
urged him to reconcile himself with Alexander. In October Frederick
reluctantly broke the ill-fated oath of Würzburg, and sent Christian of
Mainz and other German prelates to Anagni to conclude peace with the
Pope. He still hoped to detach Alexander from the Lombard cities, and
resume hostilities against them after he had been reconciled to the
Church. Alexander refused to betray either the cities or his older ally,
William of Sicily, and Frederick reluctantly brought himself to accept
the hard terms of the victors. In March 1177 Alexander and his cardinals
journeyed to Venice to be near the negotiations. [Sidenote: The Peace of
Venice, 1177.] It seemed as if all Italy were banded together against
the Emperor, and as if instead of resisting lawful authority, the papal
alliance represented an Italian national party banded together against
foreign invaders from beyond the Alps. Frederick yielded on all
substantial points. He was restored to the communion of the Church, and
on 24th July 1177 was suffered to enter Venice to make his submission to
Alexander. Frederick was conducted in great state to the Piazza, where
the Pope, surrounded by cardinals and prelates, waited for him in the
portico of St. Mark’s. ‘Then,’ says a contemporary, ‘he was touched by
the spirit of God, and, abandoning his imperial dignity, threw himself
humbly at the feet of the Pope.’ Alexander, with tears in his eyes,
raised his fallen enemy, and gave him the kiss of peace. It was exactly
a hundred years since Henry IV. had gone to Canossa.
In August the Peace of Venice settled the details of Frederick’s
reconciliation with the Papacy. All the lands usurped from the patrimony
of St. Peter were to be restored. The Pope and Emperor promised mutual
aid against each other’s enemies, and were lavish in vows of future
friendship. A truce was secured for the Lombards, the Normans, and even
for Manuel Comnenus, while the detailed conditions of a final settlement
were slowly adjusted under the mediation of the papal legate. [Sidenote:
End of the schism in the Papacy, 1178.] In August 1178 the Antipope
Calixtus renounced his pretensions, and, though a few obstinate
schismatics sought still to carry on the line of Antipopes, their
nominee was soon forced into a monastery. The permanent treaty with the
Lombards was finally signed on June 1183 at Constance. [Sidenote: Peace
of Constance, 1183.] By it the Emperor granted to the cities of the
Lombard league all the royal rights (_regalia_) which they ever had, or
at that moment enjoyed. The cities were allowed to build fortifications,
to continue their league, and make such other combinations as they
wished. They had complete jurisdiction over their own members, could
levy troops, coin money, and exercise practically all regalian rights.
The imperial _podestàs_ disappeared, and henceforth the _podestâ_ was
but a foreign judge called in by the citizens, in the hope that his
strangeness to local factions would make him an impartial magistrate.
The only clauses which upheld the supremacy of the Emperor stipulated
that the consuls should receive imperial confirmation, that a right of
appeal should lie to the imperial court, and that the Emperor should
still have a claim to receive the _fodrum_ as a contribution to his
military expenses. Such rights as thus remained to the Emperor were
henceforth exercised by legates and vicars, very careless of their
absent master. For all practical purposes, the Treaty of Constance made
the Lombard republics self-governing city-states. The barest
overlordship henceforth alone remained to him who in past generations
had aspired to be their effective master. The Empire was by no means
destroyed by this great blow, but henceforth Italy and Germany have each
their independent development.
[Sidenote: Frederick and Germany.]
After the peace, Frederick’s main occupation lay in Germany. During the
Emperor’s Italian troubles the power of Henry the Lion had gone on
increasing. In the north in particular, Henry had renewed the ancient
policy of extending the German race at the expense of the Slavs. Using
his Saxon duchy as the basis of his operations, he completed the
Germanisation of the lands between the Elbe, Baltic, and Oder, that,
despite the work of the Ottos, and Lothair and Albert the Bear, were
still largely Slavonic and heathen. So solid was his power, that
disasters in Italy, such as in the days of the Ottos, had led to a
Slavonic reaction in the north-east, had no influence in retarding the
march of German conquest. Before long, the vastness of Henry’s resources
and the stability of his policy threw the exploits of Albert the Bear
into the shade. In alliance with the young Valdemar I. of Denmark, Henry
carried to a completion the long process of the conquest of the
half-heathen tribes beyond the Elbe, and grudged his reluctant ally a
share in the spoils of war. The warlike Abotrites were at last subdued
and forced to profess Christianity, and the fortress and bishopric of
Schwerin was established by Henry in their midst, along with numerous
colonies of Saxons and Flemish settlers. [Sidenote: Henry the Lion and
the Marks.] Henry was as great a founder of towns as Otto the Great.
Lübeck, founded in 1143 by his dependant, Count Adolf of Holstein, and
the first German town on the Baltic, owed its existence to his energy.
The bishoprics of Mecklenburg and Pomerania claim him as their founder.
Cistercian and Premonstratensian missionaries crushed out the last
remnants of heathenism, and trade followed strong rule. In 1168 Henry
married Matilda, the daughter of Henry of Anjou, an alliance that
established a warm and permanent connection between the Guelfic house
and the English throne.
[Sidenote: Henry the Lion and his duchies.]
Henry the Lion sought to rule within his duchies with the same
autocratic power with which he governed his border conquests. The local
nobles and prelates saw in his policy a design against their franchises,
and combined to offer him a vigorous resistance. Albert the Bear, who
had never lost hope of regaining Saxony, opposed him even in the Marks.
In 1166 the princes of Saxony, headed by Rainald of Dassel and the
Archbishop of Bremen, went to open war against Henry, but the personal
intervention of the Emperor restored peace in the Diet of Würzburg. The
Lion’s northern allies were equally alarmed at his triumphs; and
Valdemar of Denmark, irritated by his requiring a share in the recent
Danish conquest of Rügen, became his enemy, but was soon obliged to
crave his forgiveness, and Valdemar’s son and successor, Canute VI.,
married Henry’s daughter Gertrude. In 1170 the death of the restless
Margrave Albert relieved Henry from the most dangerous of his opponents.
His position was now so strong that he was able, between 1170 and 1172,
to go on pilgrimage to the Holy Land, where he was received with great
honour, and whence he brought back many relics, which he enshrined in
the stately churches at Brunswick of which he was the founder. Though
shorn of the East Mark by the creation of the new duchy of Austria,
Henry was still able to exercise almost as great an influence on the
Germanisation of the south-west as on the same process in the
north-east. It was the age of German colonisation, when, from the
overpeopled lands of the Netherlands and old Saxony, adventurers sought
a fresh home in the lands newly won to civilisation. German colonists in
Meissen and in the lands ruled by Czech and Magyar, owed their position
to Henry. In Bavaria itself he was the founder of the city of Munich.
It was inevitable that Frederick should look with suspicion upon so
powerful and restless a vassal, especially as, even before the Chiavenna
interview, Henry had ceased to take part in promoting the imperial
designs on Italy. But as long as Frederick’s main object was the
subjection of the Church and the Lombards, the support of Henry was
indispensable to him. However, after the Peace of Venice the condition
of affairs was altered. Henceforth the Emperor’s best hopes of success,
both in Germany and Italy, lay in the support of the great ecclesiastics
who had so long opposed Henry in Saxony. It was now Frederick’s policy
to strengthen his position in North Germany by alliances with the local
magnates, both ecclesiastical and lay, who were eager to join with the
Emperor in breaking down the power of their autocratic duke.
After the peace with the Church, Bishop Ulrich of Halberstadt, who had
been expelled as a partisan of Alexander, came back to his see. Henry,
who, during his absence, had administered the possessions of the
bishopric, refused to surrender them to him. Philip of Heinsberg,
Archbishop of Cologne, formed a close alliance with Bishop Ulrich. The
allies excommunicated the duke, and devastated his lands in Westphalia.
Meanwhile Frederick left Italy in the summer of 1178, and after
receiving the crown of the Middle Kingdom at Arles, reached Speyer in
October, where Henry the Lion visited him and complained bitterly of the
treatment he had received from the confederated bishops. [Sidenote: Fall
of Henry the Lion, 1180.] A Diet was summoned to meet at Worms in
January 1179, to consider the feud, but Henry did not appear, and the
elaborate complaints of his vassals remained unanswered. In the summer
the Emperor visited Saxony, but Henry again refused an interview at
Magdeburg, where new complaints were laid before the Emperor. A little
later, a private interview between king and duke led to no result. Henry
neglected the third and last opportunity of formally appearing before
Frederick, and despairing of the Emperor’s justice, devastated the Saxon
bishoprics with fire and sword, and called in his old enemies the Slavs
to invade German territory. In January 1180 a Diet was held at Würzburg.
For the fourth time Henry refused to appear, and the sentence of
banishment and the loss of his fiefs was given against him. Henry
declared that as a Swabian he had a right to be tried by the magnates of
Swabia alone, and strove to fight for his inheritance, but had little
success. He hoped great things from his foreign friends, but no help
came either from his father-in-law, Henry of England, his old ally,
Valdemar of Denmark, or his more recent associate, the young Philip II.
of France. In the summer of 1181 the Emperor easily conquered Saxony. In
November the once mighty duke was forced to crave pardon at Erfurt.
Frederick treated him kindly, and restored to him Brunswick, Lüneburg,
and most of his allodial possessions. But at the prayer of the assembled
magnates he reaffirmed his sentence of banishment, and of the
deprivation of his duchies. The exiled duke retired to Normandy and
England, where his father-in-law, Henry II., treated him with marked
consideration. By a pilgrimage to St. James of Compostella, he sought to
do penance for his violence to the churches. His political career seemed
at an end.
[Illustration: The possessions of the GUELFS in the days of HENRY THE
LION]
[Sidenote: Division of the Saxon duchy.]
The vacant duchies of the Guelfs were disposed of on conditions that
mark an epoch in the territorial development of Germany. Saxony, the
last stronghold of the sentiment of the ancient four peoples of Germany,
now underwent the same fate that had fallen to Bavaria earlier in
Frederick’s reign. The western parts, including the vast dioceses of
Cologne and Paderborn, were erected into the new duchy of Westphalia,
and granted to the Archbishop of Cologne, Frederick’s ally. The lands
between the Weser and the Elbe went to the chief of the lay enemies of
the Guelfic house. Bernard of Anhalt, the son of Albert the Bear,
received this district, along with the ducal title, but only on
condition that the counties and bishoprics that in Henry the Lion’s days
had been directly dependent on the Saxon duke, should henceforward hold
immediately of the Empire. In the south the aged Welf VI. had quite
withdrawn from politics, and Otto of Wittelsbach, Count-Palatine of
Bavaria, the strenuous upholder of Frederick’s policy in Italy, was
before long invested with the duchy of Bavaria, over which his
descendants still bear rule. The fall of the Guelfs, the one family
strong enough to rival the throne, compensated in some measure for
Frederick’s failures in Italy. By the partition of Saxony and Bavaria,
the last danger to the monarchy from the national duchies was removed.
[Sidenote: Diet of Mainz, 1184.] In the great Diet of Mainz, held in
1184, the glories of the Diet of Besançon were renewed, after which the
Emperor went over the Alps for his sixth and last visit to Italy. So
strong did Frederick still feel himself, that he yielded to the
importunities of Henry of England, and allowed Henry the Lion to return
to Germany.
[Sidenote: Union of Sicily with the Empire.]
Misfortunes followed Frederick’s fresh intervention in Italy. On his way
he concluded, at Augsburg, a treaty (October 1184), which ranks as the
greatest of his diplomatic triumphs. In 1169 his eldest son, Henry, had
been crowned King of the Romans at Aachen, when still a child. He was
now becoming his father’s active fellow-worker. By the Treaty of
Augsburg it was arranged that the young king should marry Constance of
Sicily, the daughter of King Roger, and the aunt and heiress of the
childless William II. From this sprang the ultimate union of the
Hohenstaufen with the Sicilian royal house, and the conversion of
southern Italy, hitherto the chiefest strength of the papal power, into
the strongest bulwark of the Swabian Empire. Nor was this Frederick’s
only success in Italy. [Sidenote: Revival of Frederick’s power in
Italy.] The league of northern cities had broken asunder after the fear
of his strong hand was removed. In 1181 the former imperialist
towns—Cremona, Pavia, Lodi, Bergamo, Como—separated themselves from the
confederation, and formed a league, bitterly opposed to Milan and her
allies. Frederick also took advantage of the feuds of Tuscany and
Bologna to build up a party there, and by lavish grants to Pisa and
Lucca he secured, though at vast cost, powerful friends in middle Italy.
[Sidenote: The Lateran Council, 1179. Death of Alexander III., 1181.]
The Papacy had lost the great man who had so long upheld its fortunes.
Alexander III.’s last important act was the assembling, in March 1179,
of the third General Council of the Lateran, where the law was
promulgated that a valid election to the Papacy required the votes of
two-thirds of the cardinals present in the conclave. He died on 30th
August 1181, full of years and honours. His five immediate successors
did not reign long enough to make any real mark, and were much hampered
by their strife with the Romans. Lucius III. (1181–1185) the first of
the series, was still Pope when Frederick paid his sixth visit to Italy.
[Sidenote: Lucius III., 1181–1185.] In November 1184 Pope and Emperor
met at Verona, where Lucius refused to consent to Frederick’s proposal
that his son, the young King Henry, should be crowned Emperor during his
own lifetime. Under Urban III. (1185–1187), Lucius’ successor, a new
quarrel between Pope and Emperor seemed imminent. [Sidenote: Urban III.,
1185–1187.] The immediate pretext of this was a double election to the
Archbishopric of Trier, where the imperialist choice of Rudolf of Wied
had been opposed by the appointment of the ambitious Archdeacon Folmar
by the hierarchical party. Urban III. consecrated Folmar archbishop, and
a powerful coalition against Frederick was formed, including besides
Folmar, Philip, Archbishop of Cologne, and Henry the Lion, but recently
back to his German estates, whose father-in-law, Henry of England, and
son-in-law, Canute VI. of Denmark, promised their assistance. [Sidenote:
Threatened renewal of quarrel between Empire and Papacy.] But Frederick
had still the upper hand, and his ancient enemies in Italy and Germany
were now foremost in supporting him. While Cremona joined the Pope,
Milan concluded a close alliance with the Emperor, and the marriage of
King Henry and Constance was celebrated within the walls of the once
rebellious city. After the marriage, a threefold coronation ceremony
took place, in which Frederick received the crown of Burgundy, Henry
that of Italy, and Constance the queen’s crown of Germany. Henceforth
the ancient title of Cæsar was revived in Henry’s favour, in the same
sense as that in which Diocletian had designated the Cæsar to be the
assistant and successor of the imperial Augustus. In Italy the young
Henry devastated the lands of the Papalists. In Germany, where the
bishops supported Frederick, Philip of Cologne, abandoned by his English
allies, was utterly defeated. Urban persisted in his opposition, and was
preparing to excommunicate the Emperor, when the fatal news of the
collapse of the Christian power in the East came as a thunderclap.
[Sidenote: Gregory VIII., 1187.] A few days later Urban died (20th
October 1187), and his successor Gregory VIII. (October-December 1187)
strove to unite Europe in a new Crusade, and dying after a few weeks,
the next Pope, Clement III. (1187–1191) removed the chief cause of the
dispute by depriving Folmar of his archbishopric, and by promising to
crown Henry. [Sidenote: Clement III., 1187–1191.] Henry the Lion atoned
for his new treason by a new exile. The younger son of Frederick,
Frederick, now received the duchy of Swabia, in succession to Frederick
of Rothenburg. Peace was thoroughly restored, and the power of the
Emperor established on a firmer basis than ever. In Italy order was
again secured. Since the death of Alexander III., the Popes had mainly
lived in northern Italy, but in 1188 Clement III. was restored to Rome.
His successor Celestine III. (1191–1198) lived peacefully in the
capital, but the Senate still ruled Rome and not the Pope.
[Sidenote: Crusade and death of Frederick, 1190.]
Once more master of Germany and Italy, the old Emperor showed his
imperial position in its most ideal aspect by putting himself at the
head of a great European movement. In 1187 Saladin conquered Jerusalem
from the Christians, and a mighty crusading impulse ran for a third time
throughout Europe. At Easter 1188, Frederick once more took the Cross,
and leaving the Cæsar Henry as regent, left Germany in May 1189. In June
1190 he perished in Cilicia, without having ever reached his goal.
[Sidenote: Frederick’s character.]
Ragewin, the biographer of Frederick, minutely describes his person and
character. His stature was not above the middle height, but his frame
was elegant and well proportioned. Flowing yellow hair curled over his
brow and almost concealed his ears, and his close-cropped reddish beard
gave him his familiar surname of Barbarossa. His eyes were clear and
bright, his nose well shaped, and his whole countenance joyous and
merry. His throat and neck were somewhat thick. His milk-white skin
easily reddened, not through anger but from modesty. His gait was firm
and regular, and his habit of body vigorous. His voice was clear and
full. He enjoyed excellent health but for chronic attacks of fever. He
was chaste, honourable, just and religious. He was assiduous at divine
worship, devout in his behaviour in church, and very respectful to the
clergy, regularly putting aside a tenth of his income for pious and
charitable objects. A mighty warrior, he only rejoiced in battle because
victory was the best means of assuring peace. He was zealous in his
attention to public business, and kept in his hands the whole strings of
his policy. He delighted in hunting, and was able to lay aside his royal
state in hours of recreation without loss of dignity. He was fond of
reading history, especially the story of his great predecessors in the
Empire. Speaking eloquently in German, he could understand Latin better
than he could talk it. Simple but never negligent in his personal
habits, he wore the ordinary German dress. He spent much money on
buildings, especially in restoring ancient palaces in Germany and Italy.
His greatest ambition was to restore the Roman Empire to its pristine
glory. During his reign both Germany and Italy enjoyed a prosperity and
peace to which they had long been strangers. Agriculture flourished:
commerce took a mighty impetus: the towns became wealthy and
self-governing, and secured for themselves as strong a position as the
barons and bishops within the political system of feudalism. A German
national literature attested the growth of German national
consciousness. The _Niebelungenlied_ took its modern form, and its
heroes, by their strange medley of chivalry and violence, well represent
the ideals of the age. The _Minnesinger_ began their songs, and the
rhymed _Kaisercronik_ brought home to all the mighty deeds of former
Emperors. In later times, when the seeds of disunion sown by the great
Emperor’s policy had brought forth their fruits, men looked back to the
age of Barbarossa with admiration and longing. A strange legend
ultimately grew that Frederick was not dead but sleeping, and that in
due time he would again appear to restore peace and justice, and again
realise in his own person the Kingdom of God on earth.