Frederick Ascends the Throne
The German Empire suffered many grave calamities the following year.[4]
Henry, who already had been designated successor of Conrad III, suddenly
died, and all hope of filling the vacancy on the throne without exciting
dangerous quarrels among the princes and their adherents seemingly was
gone. The seriousness of the situation was soon apparent. Two years
passed, and no successor was found. Then the sudden death of Conrad
occurred, causing great sorrow and even dismay in the German provinces;
for he had been a good ruler, even though he had not always been
successful in securing peace.
The situation was alarming. In Lombardy, on the other side of the Alps,
the great and rich cities were struggling for absolute independence.
Each of them demanded exclusive privileges and individual freedom. They
refused to pay taxes or take commands from any one. Each sought to
dominate the others and make them tributary. At one time they formed
alliances to subjugate others, and when this was accomplished they
turned against each other. One day in alliance with the Pope, the next
with the Emperor, as soon as they were on good terms with each
other,—which was not often the case,—they would join hands against both.
Every device was employed to prevent a lasting agreement between Church
and State, and nothing gave them greater delight than the desperate
conflict between the Emperor and the representative of Christ, when
excommunications and edicts of outlawry were hurled from the respective
thrones. They favored the one who would concede the most to them, though
perhaps a few days before they had bitterly detested and harassed him.
They pretended to submit to the victor, with the secret determination to
throw off his yoke at the first opportunity. Indeed, in the very act of
making an agreement, they were often planning to break it. Many a ruler
had vainly exerted his utmost power to end this wretched business. After
the death of Conrad, Italian affairs were in almost inextricable
confusion, and the German fatherland was in almost as desperate a
condition, growing out of lust for power, and oppressive restrictions.
The grand dukes repeatedly defied the imperial power, and forcibly
extorted from weak rulers privileges and immunities which they used for
their own profit in dealing with their inferiors. Their vassals, the
knights, were humiliated, deprived of all authority, robbed of their
possessions, and even church and convent property did not escape
spoliation. Many resorted to arms to defend their rights against the
feudal lords, or indemnified themselves at the expense of the common
people. The freedom of the latter grew continually less, and their
humiliation greater. The regular taxes were increased and new ones were
levied, until at last the peasant had little left but life. The
industrious workers of the cities hardly ventured to carry their
products to the nearest market without first purchasing protection from
the nobles. Even then, they were often plundered by having to pay ransom
to save themselves from being dragged to some dungeon.
This is but a feeble description of the wretched plight of the mightiest
Empire in Christendom. To redress these evils and restore order required
almost superhuman ability, and the princes looked around in vain for a
deliverer. The haughty Henry the Lion,[5] an aggressive, ambitious
prince, had no one’s confidence. Some were only solicitous to increase
their personal power, while others lacked the ability to protect
themselves successfully against any assailant.
The dying Conrad, however, took every precaution. He had experienced the
difficulty of ruling such an Empire, and had decided upon the right man
for the place. His own son Frederick was still a boy, and Conrad knew
the Empire would not be safe in his hands. He proposed his nephew,
Frederick of Swabia, whom we have already met. In a full assembly of the
princes at Frankfort-on-the-Main, one praised the heroic courage he had
displayed in the Crusade, another his judgment and wisdom, a third his
knightly virtues, and a fourth was confident he would shortly put an end
to the long and bloody conflicts of the Guelphs and Ghibellines.[6] He
was unanimously elected, March 4, 1152. All the German provinces
voluntarily and enthusiastically endorsed the choice of the princes, and
a vast multitude of all classes and conditions exultantly greeted him
when the coronation ceremony took place at Aix-la-Chapelle, on the tenth
of the same month.
No complaint was made this time of irregularity in the election.[7] Some
slight regret was expressed that it had not been conducted publicly
instead of in the Frankfort town-hall, but this was of little moment.
The choice satisfied every one. All hoped to see the glorious old period
of Charlemagne restored, and considered it auspicious that the selection
was made in a city which, according to tradition, owed its origin to
that great hero of the olden time; for, when hard pressed by the Saxon
heathen, it was there he discovered a ford across the Main, which saved
his army, and near that spot he founded the city of Frankfort.
The coronation ceremonies at last were over, and the various popular
entertainments gradually came to an end. The tumult of the crowds about
the hall was hushed, and only two knights remained, who walked up and
down the spacious apartment engaged in earnest conversation. The one,
although only of medium stature, was strong and well made. His piercing
glance, so terrible to an enemy on the battlefield, rested quietly upon
his friend and helper. It was easy to recognize the new Emperor by his
fair complexion, which the burning sun of Asia had but little browned,
his blond hair, and his red beard.[8] The other was Conrad of
Feuchtwangen, his friend and comrade in arms at a time when deeds almost
passing belief were performed.
“I know as well as thou, my dear Conrad, the magnitude of my task,” said
the Emperor. “Whichever way I turn I find difficult problems, any one of
which will require almost superhuman ability to solve. Germany and
Italy, so widely separated from each other, are involved in desperate
complications, but I feel that I have sufficient strength and courage to
face the situation and fill my high position.”
“The princes were certain of that when they elected thee.”
“With divine help I will prove myself worthy of their confidence. The
history of our people shows that the man who is called to high duties,
and places his reliance upon God, is a safe guide and protector of the
people, and such an one often accomplishes important results in a short
time. The incomparable Charles the Great united all classes of his
people into a powerful whole, forced the most rebellious to recognize
his authority, eradicated heathenism in a single generation, reformed
the habits of the people by the glorious teachings of Christianity, and
established a well-ordered Empire. At a later period, when princes
failed to profit by what he had accomplished, when fraternal strife
swept away the best and devastated the country, they suffered many years
from the disgrace of it and bowed their necks under the yoke of the
barbarous Magyars, until the matchless Henry[9] came with all the old
authority and the old virtues, and made the barbarians tremble at the
very name of Germany.”
“How faithfully thou hast treasured in thy memory the actions of the
great!”
“Yes, I have vowed that these men, but above all that Charles, the
noble-hearted founder of German power, called ‘the Great’ by the world
and ennobled by the Church, shall be my constant exemplar. The German
authority shall again prevail, and the German Empire shall flourish
again as in the days of old.”
“And yet, how many obstacles stand in the way of this achievement!”
“Charles also encountered obstacles, and certainly as great ones as
these, but he finally overcame them. He found the most potent remedies
for the evils of his time, and we must do the same for ours.”
“But the evils now are entirely different.”
“I think they are very similar. He was forced to break the power of the
grand dukes and protect the common people, and that is what we must do.”
“The first task may be impossible, for it is extremely difficult to
decide what the dukes have rightly inherited and what they have
usurped.”
“In such cases we shall have to prevent any further increase of their
power,—the remedy which Henry attempted to apply. The great cities with
their industries and commerce, where the arts and sciences are
cultivated more assiduously than in many knightly castles, must employ
their wealth and power to curb insolence and punish offences against the
laws. This will enable them to help each other and manage their own
affairs. They certainly should know better what is for their welfare
than those at a distance, who are ignorant of their circumstances.”
“That will exercise an important influence upon the general welfare.”
“True. The Emperor will find in every city a power already organized
with which to punish those who now violate the law with impunity;
because the law-enforcing power is so distant they can escape with their
plunder behind protecting walls.”
“But how about the people in the open country?”
“They, too, must have the protection of the law, and their actions must
not be arbitrarily controlled.”
“Excuse me, noble sire. The Italian cities manage their own affairs. The
possessions claimed by the nobles were inherited from their ancestors.
They associate freely with the common people, also, and yet these cities
do not enjoy the blessings of freedom.”
“That is true, but they mistake their real position and welfare. They
dream of the glorious fame of ancient Rome, but they have not the
slightest comprehension of its exalted virtues. Where will you find a
Mucius, a Fabricius, or a Cincinnatus? But at every step you will find a
Catiline, a Nero, or a Heliogabalus. ‘Freedom for us, but none for
others,’ is the motto of the Lombardian cities, as it is of Rome. That
is the cause of their decadence.”
“And do you expect to maintain a powerful authority there?”
“With God’s help, yes. I will curb their audacity, but will concede to
them all their chartered rights. By demanding only what belongs to the
sovereign, protecting the weak against the strong, and firmly and
judiciously administering the government, there may be a successful
result.”
“But have you considered what obstacles the temporal and spiritual
powers may place in your way? Should the latter oppose you, you will
find that bans and interdicts are dangerous and far-reaching weapons.”
“All honor to the princes of the Church who administer its sacred
functions, but in all my relations with them the great Charles shall be
my exemplar. Spiritual affairs shall be respected and protected, as they
were by my great predecessor; but when unjustifiable encroachments are
made upon imperial rights and privileges, I will resist them just as
firmly as he did. Each must keep in his own place. I will take care not
to interfere in spiritual matters when I have no right to do so.”
“The union of spiritual and temporal authority has never been productive
of good.”
“For that very reason it is better for them to be separated. To the
emperor, the sword; to the bishop, the Scriptures. If God helps me, and
grants me the good fortune to win as sovereign such friends as I have as
Frederick of Swabia, I shall not be uneasy.”
Conrad knew what the Emperor meant. Honored by his confidence, he
promised him anew his unchanging love and devotion. He pressed the
extended hand of his royal friend and they separated.
Frederick had an opportunity that very year to demonstrate his
authority. Two Danish princes, who were contending for the crown left by
their father, appeared at the Diet at Merseburg and requested the
Emperor to arbitrate their claims. Frederick decided Canute should be
king and Sven should be indemnified with territorial possessions. His
decision was particularly approved by the Germans, because it made
Denmark once more a vassal of Germany.
Two years after this, in 1154, Frederick made his first journey to Rome,
and but for a pestilence which broke out among his soldiers, would have
permanently settled Italian affairs. Returning to Germany, he exercised
his authority as effectively as any of his predecessors had done. He
summoned Archbishop Arnold, of Mayence, and the Count Palatine Hermann
before him because of their bloody conflicts during his absence, through
which several provinces had been devastated. They were powerful princes,
but Frederick did not hesitate to punish them severely. A dog was
fastened to the Count Palatine and his associates, and they were
compelled to go a mile with it amid the derision of high and low. The
same penalty was pronounced against the Archbishop, but was remitted in
consideration of his position and age. Soon after this, the Emperor
mustered a strong force and destroyed the castles of the robber knights
along the Rhine, who had plundered the fertile districts in their
vicinity and rendered life insecure.
The German people joyfully listened to the accounts of these exploits.
They were proud of their Emperor, and hope now rose in many a breast
that all the burdens and misfortunes from which they had suffered would
be speedily removed. The Emperor hastened from Reichstag to Reichstag,
everywhere suggesting, reproving, and rewarding. He compelled King
Boleslaus IV of Poland to recognize him as feudal lord and to make
compensation to the children of his brother, Ladislaus; this resulted in
taking Silesia from Poland and making it a separate duchy.
The power of the Empire steadily increased. Order and quiet were
everywhere restored, the cities were prosperous and the people were
happy and contented. Feared abroad, loved and honored at home, the
Emperor was at the very summit of his power. In the Reichstag at
Würzburg (1157) representatives from Italy, France, Burgundy, Denmark,
Spain, England, and Greece were present and paid homage to the German
Emperor. The King of England was also conspicuous in displaying his good
feeling, and sent costly gifts.