the Franks, grandsons of Henry IV, were the hereditary and
dynastic successors to the throne of Germany, when with the
death of Henry V in 1125 the male line of the Franconian
dynasty ended. The brothers demanded the assertion of the
elective right in the imperial office, and Lothair, Duke of
Saxony, was elected emperor of Germany.
Lothair died in 1138. His son-in-law, the Wolf or Welf
nobleman, Henry the Proud, Duke of Bavaria, whom Lothair had
nominated as his successor, was opposed by the Swabian
faction--also known as the Waiblingen faction--from the
Franconian village in which the Swabian duke Frederick was
born.
The Waiblingen faction elected as emperor of Germany Conrad
the Crusader, in whom began the Hohenstaufen dynasty, so
named from the Swabian family seat on the lofty Staufen hill
rising from the Rems River.
From this event dates the strife of the Welfs and
Waiblingens, who in Italy became known as Guelfs and
Ghibellines. The chief opponents in the long strife that
ensued were the Guelf dukes, Henry the Proud and Henry the
Lion, and the Ghibelline emperor Frederick Barbarossa.
Frederick Barbarossa (Redbeard) succeeded his father Conrad
in 1152, and began a reign which was disturbed by wars with
his nobility and by expeditions into Italy to subdue the
revolts of the city republics of Lombardy against imperial
authority. During his first expedition to Italy, 1154-1155,
Barbarossa soon crushed all opposition and was crowned
Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, at Rome, by Pope Hadrian
IV. During his second expedition, 1158-1162, he destroyed
the city of Milan and dispersed the inhabitants, who sought
refuge in cities with which they had formerly been at
enmity. Barbarossa's violence antagonized the Italians, and
they combined in the Lombard League to drive him out of
Italy. He was excommunicated by Pope Alexander III, who
succeeded Hadrian in 1159, and to inaugurate the league a
town named Alessandria in honor of the Pope was founded on
the Piedmont frontier. In the expedition of 1166-1168
Barbarossa, who had set up an antipope, captured Rome and
enthroned Paschal III as pope. His triumph however, was
shortened by a pestilence which decimated his troops, and
thence began a series of reverses which ended in the
ascendency of the Lombard League.
No sooner had Frederick passed through North Italy on the way to his
triumph and ultimate humiliation in Rome than the formation was begun
of that greater Lombard League which was to prove so terrible and
invincible an enemy. Cremona was, according to the Emperor's own
account, the prime mover in the matter. Mantua, Bergamo, and Brescia
joined with that city, and bound themselves to mutual protection. The
league, which was to last for fifty years, was not openly hostile to
the Emperor; fidelity to him, indeed, was one of the articles of its
constitution. But only such duties and services were to be performed
as had been customary in the time of Conrad III; so the cities
practically renounced the Roncaglian decrees and declared themselves
in revolt.
From the beginning, too, the league took sides with Alexander. But its
most daring act of insubordination was the leading back in triumph of
the Milanese to the scene of their former glory. The outer walls of
Milan had not been entirely levelled to the ground, and the city arose
as if by magic from her ruins. Bergamo, Brescia, and Cremona lent her
efficient aid in the work of restoration.
A sculpture executed in 1171 by order of the consuls, and showing the
return, accompanied by their allies, of the exiles, is still to be
seen in Milan, near the Porta Romana. How few of those who look on it
to-day realize what that return meant to the long-suffering citizens,
and what premonitions of evil to come must have gone with them.
The Lombard League spread rapidly. Lodi, after much demur and after
being surrounded by an army, was forced to join it. Piacenza needed no
constraint, and Parma yielded after some opposition. Including Milan
there were soon eight cities in the confederation. The imperial
officials were disavowed and the old consular rule reëstablished,
while everywhere Alexandrine bishops replaced those that had been
invested by Victor and Paschal.
Returning almost in disgrace from Rome, Frederick took up the struggle
against the revolted cities, sending an appeal for reinforcements to
Germany. But an attack on Milan proved fruitless, as did also one on
Piacenza, and the Emperor was soon forced to intrench himself in
Pavia. His position became more and more desperate, the more so as the
new archbishop of Milan, Galdinus, unfolded a great activity in favor
of Alexander. The Pope named him apostolic legate for the whole of
Lombardy, and it was doubtless due to his influence that at this time
the Verona coalition formally joined the Lombard League.
Sixteen cities were now banded together against the Emperor, who
remained helpless in their midst. Pavia soon ceased to be a safe
refuge, and he retired to Novara and then to Vercelli; but both cities
were even then planning to join the confederation.
In the end Frederick prepared to leave Italy as a fugitive, and with
but a small train of followers. In Susa, where the road begins which
leads over the Mount Cenis pass, he was told that he must give up the
few remaining hostages he was leading with him. All exits were found
to be closed against him, and it came to his ear that an attempt was
to be made upon his life.
The Emperor fled from Susa disguised as a servant, while his
chamberlain, Hartmann of Siebeneichen, who bore him a striking
likeness, continued to play the part of captive monarch. A band of
assassins actually made their way into the royal chamber, but seem to
have spared the brave chamberlain on learning their mistake.
The real object of their attack was meanwhile hastening on toward
Basel, which he finally reached in safety.
It was to be expected that a man of Frederick's iron will would soon
return to avenge the humiliations he had suffered, and the League
hastened to strengthen itself in all directions. Alexander was invited
to take up his residence in their midst, and he, although obliged to
refuse, continued to work for the rebel cities. The latter showed
their gratitude by founding a new town, which was to be a common
fortress for the whole league, and naming it Alessandria in honor of
their ally. The citizens took an oath of fealty to the Pope and agreed
to pay him a yearly tax. The new foundation, although laughed at at
first by the imperialists and called Alessandria della Paglia, from
its hastily constructed straw huts, soon held a population of fifteen
thousand. It continues to-day to reflect credit on its sponsor.
Contrary to all expectations it was six years before Frederick
returned to Italy, and the Lombard League was meanwhile left master of
the field. This delay is undoubtedly ascribable to the fact that the
Emperor found it impossible at once to raise another army. The recent
blows of fate had been too severe, and no enthusiasm for a new Italian
war could be called into being. When, later, Frederick did recross the
Alps it was with the mere shadow of an army; the nobles had seized
every possible excuse to remain at home.
No doubt but that the enforced rest was of benefit to Germany; there
at least the Emperor's power was undiminished. Indeed, the lands of
many of those who had been carried away by the pestilence had fallen
to him by inheritance, or lapsed as fiefs of the crown. Frederick is
the first of the emperors who really acquired great family
possessions. These helped him to maintain his imperial power without
having to rely too much on the often untrustworthy princes of the
realm. The Salian estates, to which his father had fallen heir on the
death of Henry V, formed a nucleus, while, by purchase and otherwise,
he acquired castle after castle, and one stretch of territory after
another, especially in Suabia and the Rhine Palatinate.
By the Emperor's influence feud after feud was settled, and the
princes were induced to acknowledge his second son--why not his eldest
has never been explained--as successor to the throne. The internal
prosperity and concord were not without their influence on the
neighboring powers, and Hungary, Bohemia, and Poland were forced to
acknowledge and fulfil their feudal duties.
Meanwhile Tuscany and a part of the Romagna had remained true to the
empire. Frederick's emissary, Christian of Mayence, who was sent to
Italy in 1171, was able to play a leading _rôle_ in the hostilities
between Pisa and Genoa, and, in 1173, to again besiege Ancona, which
was still a centre for Greek intrigues. Christian was able to assure
the Emperor that some allies at least were left in Italy.
In one way time had worked a favorable change. So long as an immediate
attack was to be feared the Lombard cities--between thirty and forty
of which, including such towns as Venice, Bologna, and Pavia, had
finally joined the League--were firmly united and ready to make any
effort. But as the years went on and the danger became less pressing,
internal discord crept in among them. Venice, for instance, helped
Christian of Mayence in besieging Ancona; and Pavia, true to its old
imperial policy, was only waiting for an opportunity for deserting its
latest allies. The league feared, too, that Alexander might leave it
to its fate and make an independent peace with the Emperor.
As a matter of fact, in 1170, strong efforts had been made to bring
about such a consummation. But Frederick was bound by the Wuerzburg
decrees, and his envoy could not offer the submission that Alexander
required.
John of Salisbury tells us that the Emperor made a proposition to the
effect that he himself, for his own person, should not be compelled to
recognize any pope "save Peter and the others who are in heaven," but
that his son Henry, the young King of the Romans, should recognize
Alexander, and, in return, receive from him the imperial coronation.
The bishops ordained by Frederick's popes were to remain in office.
Alexander answered these proposals with a certain scorn, and the
imperial ambassador, Eberhard of Bamberg, returned from Veroli, where
the conference had taken place, with nothing to show for his pains.
Alexander's next move was to send an account of the interview to the
heads of the Lombard League, and at the same time to consecrate, as it
were, that organization. He declared that it had been formed for the
purpose of defending the peace of the cities which composed it, and of
the Church, against the "so-called Emperor, Frederick," whose yoke it
had seen fit to cast off. The rectors of the confederation were taken
under the wing of the papacy, and those who should disobey them
threatened with the ban. The Pope recommended a strict embargo on
articles of commerce from Tuscany should the cities of that province
refuse to join the league.
At this same time Alexander showed his friendliness toward the Eastern
Empire by performing in person the marriage ceremony over the niece of
the Emperor Manuel and one of the Roman Frangipani.
Frederick's first act on entering Italy in 1174 was to wreak vengeance
on Susa, where he had once been captive; no half measures were used,
and the town was soon a heap of ashes. Asti, also, the first league
town which lay in the path of the imperial army, was straightway made
to capitulate. But, although the fall of these two cities induced many
to abandon the cause of the league, the new fortress of Alessandria,
situated as it was in the midst of a swampy plain and surrounded with
massive earth walls, proved an effectual stumbling-block in the way of
the avenger. Heavy rains and floods came to the aid of the besieged
city and the imperial tents and huts were almost submersed, while
hunger and other discomforts caused many of the allies of the Germans
to desert. The siege was continued for six months, but Frederick at
last abandoned it on learning that an army of the league was about to
descend on his weakened forces. He burned his besieging implements,
his catapults, battering rams, and movable towers, and retreated to
Pavian territory.
The forces of the allied cities were sufficient to alarm Frederick,
but they did not follow up their advantage. One is surprised to find
negotiations for a peace begun at a time when a decisive battle seemed
imminent. What preliminary steps were taken, or why the Lombards
should have been the first to take them, is not clear; although some
slight successes gained by Christian of Mayence at this juncture in
the neighborhood of Bologna may have been not without effect.
A commission of six men was appointed to draw up the articles of
treaty, three being chosen from the cities, three appointed by the
Emperor. The consuls of Cremona were to decide on disputed
points--points, namely, as to which it was impossible to arrive at a
mutual agreement. A truce to all hostilities was meanwhile declared,
and at Montebello both sides bound themselves to concur in whatever
arrangement should be made by the commission and the consuls. The
Lombards meanwhile went through the form of a submission, knelt at the
Emperor's feet, and lowered their standards before him. Frederick
thereupon received them into favor and dismissed the greater part of
his army, the league doing likewise.
Naturally enough the disputed points were the most important ones, and
had to be referred to the consuls of Cremona. But the rage and
disappointment of the Lombards went beyond bounds when the different
decisions, which, indeed, were remarkably fair, at last were made
known. The Emperor was to exercise no prerogatives in Northern Italy
that had not been exercised in the time of Henry V; he was also to
sanction the continuance of the league. But no arrangement was made
for a peace between the heads of Christendom, although the league had
made this its first demand. Then, too, Alessandria, which Frederick
considered to have been founded in scorn of himself, was to cease to
exist, and its inhabitants were to return to their former homes.
The report of the consuls roused a storm of indignation; in many cases
the document embodying it was torn in shreds by the mob. The Lombards
altogether refused to be bound by the terms of the treaty, and
reopened hostilities. Frederick hastily gathered what forces he could
and sent a pressing call to Germany for aid.
It was now that the greatest vassal of the Crown, Henry the Lion,
rewarded twenty years of trustfulness and favor by deserting Frederick
in his hour of need. The only cause that is known, a strangely
insufficient one, was a dispute concerning the town of Goslar, which
the Emperor had withdrawn from Henry's jurisdiction. The details of
the meeting, which took place according to one chronicle at
Partenkirchen, to another at Chiavenna, are but vaguely known to us,
but Frederick is said to have prostrated himself at the feet of his
mighty subject and to have begged in vain for his support.
We have seen how Frederick, at the beginning of his reign, had caused
Henry, who was already in possession of Saxony, to be acknowledged
Duke of Bavaria in place of Henry Jasomirgott, who was conciliated by
the gift of the new duchy of Austria. From that moment Henry the
Lion's power had steadily grown. He increased his glory, and above all
his territory, by constant wars against the Wends, developing a
hitherto unheard-of activity in the matter of peopling Slavic lands
with German colonists. The bishoprics of Lubeck, Ratzeburg and
Schwerin owed to him their origin, while he it was who caused the
marshy lands around Bremen to be reclaimed and cultivated.
When, on various occasions, conspiracies were formed against Henry by
other Saxon nobles, the Emperor had boldly and successfully taken his
part, helping in person to quell the insurgents; in 1162 he had
prevented the Duke of Austria and the King of Bohemia from trying to
bring about their rival's downfall.
A marriage with Matilda, daughter of the King of England, had
increased the great Saxon's influence; and during the continued
absences of the Emperor in Italy his rule was kingly in all but name.
In 1171 he affianced his daughter to the son of King Waldemar of
Denmark, and by this alliance secured his new colonies from Danish
hostility.
In actual extent and productiveness his estates fairly surpassed those
of his imperial cousin, and the defection of such a man signified the
death knell of the latter's cause.
The battle of Legnano, fought on May 29, 1176, ended in disaster and
defeat. Frederick himself, who was wounded and thrown from his horse,
finally reached Pavia after days of adventurous flight, having
meanwhile been mourned as dead by the remnant of his army.
All was not yet lost, indeed, for the league, not knowing what
reinforcements were on the way from Germany--the small army of
Christian of Mayence, too, was still harvesting victories in the March
of Ancona--did not follow up its successes. Cremona, moreover, jealous
of Milan, began to waver in her allegiance to the cause of which she
had so long been the leader, and eventually signed a treaty with the
Emperor.
But Frederick, although he at first made a pretence of continuing the
war, was soon forced by the representations of his nobles to abandon
the policy of twenty-four years, and to make peace on the best terms
obtainable with Alexander III, and, through him, with the Lombard
cities. The oath of Wuerzburg was broken, and the two treaties of
Anagni and Venice put an end to the long war.
At Anagni the articles were drawn up on which the later long and
wearisome negotiations were based. The Emperor, the Empress, and the
young King of the Romans were to acknowledge Alexander as the Catholic
and universal pope, and to show him all due respect. Frederick was to
give up the prefecture of Rome and the estates of Matilda, and to make
peace with the Lombards, with the King of Sicily, the Emperor of
Constantinople, and all who had aided and supported the Roman Church.
Provision was to be made for a number of German archbishops and
bishops who had received their authority from the antipopes.
There is no need to dwell on the endless discussions that ensued with
regard to these matters; more than once it seemed as though all
attempts at agreement would have to be abandoned. But both parties
were sincerely anxious for peace, and at last a remarkably skilful
compromise was drawn up at Venice.
Frederick had objected strongly to renouncing the rights of the empire
regarding the estates of Matilda; he was to be allowed to draw the
revenues of those estates for fifteen years to come, and the question
was eventually to be settled by commissioners. The form of the peace
with the Lombards was a still more difficult matter, but the Pope made
a wise suggestion which was adopted. A truce of six years was
declared, at the end of which time it was hoped that a basis would
have been found for a readjustment of the relations between the
Emperor and the league. With Sicily, too, hostilities were to cease
for a term of fifteen years.
It will be seen that all the great questions at issue, save the
recognitions of Alexander as pope, were thus relegated to a future
time; to a time when the persons concerned would no longer be swayed
by passion, and when the din of war would be forgotten.
During the negotiations the Pope had remained for the most part in
Venice, while Frederick had not been allowed to enter the city, but
had remained in the neighborhood in order that the envoys might pass
more quickly to and fro. The terms of the treaty were finally assented
to by the Emperor at Chioggia, July 21, 1177. Alexander now prepared
to carry out his cherished project of holding a mighty peace congress
at Venice; and there, at the news of the approaching reconciliation,
nobles and bishops and their retinues came together from all parts of
Europe.
Now that the peace was to become an accomplished fact, Venice outdid
herself in preparing to honor the Emperor. The latter, too, was
determined to spare no expense that could add to the splendor of the
occasion. He had negotiated for a loan with the rich Venetians, and he
now imposed a tax of one thousand marks of silver on his nobles.
Frederick's coming was announced for Sunday, July 24th, and by that
time the city had donned its most festive attire. Two tall masts had
been erected on the present Piazzetta, and from them floated banners
bearing the lion of St. Mark's. A platform had been constructed at the
door of the church, and upon it was placed a raised throne for the
Pope.
When the Emperor landed on the Lido he was met by cardinals whom
Alexander had sent to absolve him from the ban. The Doge, the
Patriarch of Grado, and a crowd of lesser dignitaries then appeared
and furnished a brilliant escort with their gondolas and barks. Having
reached the shore Frederick, in the presence of an immense crowd,
approached the papal throne, and, throwing off his purple mantle,
prostrated himself before the Pope and kissed the latter's feet. Three
red slabs of marble mark the spot where he knelt. It was a moment of
world-wide importance; the Empire and the papacy had measured
themselves in mortal combat, and the Empire, in form at least, was now
surrendering at discretion. No wonder that later ages have fabled much
about this meeting. The Pope is said, with his foot on the neck of the
prostrate King, to have exclaimed aloud, "The lion and the young
dragon shalt thou trample under thy feet!"
As a matter of fact Alexander's letters of this time express anything
but insolent triumph, and his relations with the Emperor after the
peace had been sworn to assumed the friendliest character. On the day
after his entry into Venice Frederick visited him in the palace of the
Patriarch, and we are told that the conversation was not only
amicable, but gay, and that the Emperor returned to the Doge's palace
in the best of moods.
A year after the congress at Venice the antipope--Calixtus III had
succeeded Paschal in 1168 without in any way altering the complexion
of affairs--made a humble submission to Alexander at Tusculum.
Therewith the schism ended, and a year later, in 1179, Alexander held
a great council in the Lateran, where it was decreed that a two-thirds
majority in the college of cardinals was necessary to make valid the
choice of a pope. There was no mention of the clergy and people of
Rome, none of the right of confirmation on the part of the Emperor.
It was not to be supposed that Frederick would ever forgive that act
of Henry the Lion by which the whole aspect of the war in Italy had
been changed. Yet it is probable that technically Henry had committed
no offence against the Empire; for no charge of desertion or
"_herisliz_," as refusal to do military service was called, or even of
neglect of feudal duties, was ever brought against him. He probably
possessed some privilege, like that bestowed on Henry Jasomirgott,
rendering it optional with him to accompany the Emperor on expeditions
out of Germany.
But the circumstances had been so exceptional, so much had hung in the
balance at the time of Frederick's appeal for aid, that no one can
blame the Emperor for now letting Henry feel the full weight of his
displeasure. Nor was an occasion lacking by which his ruin might be
accomplished. For years the Saxon nobles and bishops had writhed under
Henry's oppressions, and the Emperor had hitherto taken sides with his
powerful cousin; he now lent a willing ear to the charges of the
latter's enemies.
The restitution to Udalrich of Halberstadt of his bishopric, a
restitution that had been provided for in the treaty of Venice, gave
the signal for the conflict. Henry the Lion refused to restore certain
fiefs which, as Udalrich asserted, belonged to the Halberstadt Church.
Archbishop Philip of Cologne and others came forward with similar
claims.