The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 06 / (From Barbarossa to Dante)

by Unknown

THE PEACE OF CONSTANCE SECURES THE LIBERTIES OF THE LOMBARD CITIES

A.D. 1183

ERNEST F. HENDERSON

Frederick, Duke of Swabia, and his brother Conrad, Duke of 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.

Henry was repeatedly summoned to answer his accusers, but did not deign to appear. On the contrary he prepared to raise up for himself allies and to besiege the castles of those who would not join him. His own lands were thereupon laid waste by his private enemies, and that with the Emperor's consent. But Halberstadt, which took part in one of these plundering expeditions, suffered a terrible vengeance at the hand of the enraged Guelf. In one destructive blaze the city, churches and all, was reduced to ashes. In the war that he was now waging Henry did not hesitate to call in even the Wends to his aid, but Westphalia was soon lost to him, and only in East Saxony was he able to maintain himself.

At a diet held in Wuerzburg in January, 1180, the Emperor laid the question before the princes what was to be done to one who had refused, after having been three times summoned, to come before the imperial tribunal. The answer was that he was to be deprived of all honor, to be judged in the public ban, and to lose his duchy and all his benefices. Thus was final sentence passed on the chief man in Germany next to the Emperor himself.

An imperial army was now raised and several fortresses were besieged. No battle took place, but the fact that Frederick had a large force at his command was sufficient to cause defection in the ranks of Henry's allies. In 1181 the Emperor's army marched as far as Lubeck, which city, Henry's proudest foundation, was forced to submit. The whole region north of the Elbe followed Lubeck's example, and Henry was soon forced to confess that his cause was hopeless. He laid down his arms, and was summoned to a diet at Erfurt to learn his fate. Here he fell on his knees before Frederick, who, with tears in his eyes, raised him and kissed him in token of peace.

He was made to surrender all his possessions with the exception of Brunswick and Luneburg. He was to go into exile, and to bind himself by an oath not to return without the Emperor's permission. He soon afterward passed over to Normandy, where he stayed for two years with his father-in-law, Henry II. He then passed over with the latter to England.

The years immediately following the Congress of Venice were, strange to say, the most brilliant period of Frederick's reign. It was, after all, only his ideals that had suffered, and a time of prosperity now settled down upon the nation.

With Alexander the Emperor remained on friendly terms; but the Pope in 1181 died in exile, having been forced by the faithless Romans, as Gregory VII had been a century before, to flee the holy city.

The peace with the Lombard towns was signed at Constance within the six years agreed upon, on June 23, 1183. The communal freedom for which they had fought so long was now accorded them; the Emperor gave up all right to the regalia and recognized the Lombard League. His dream of becoming a second Justinian had not been realized.

The cities received the privilege of using the woods, meadows, bridges, and mills in their immediate vicinity, and of raising revenues from them; the jurisdiction in ordinary, civil, and criminal cases; the right of making fortifications. The Emperor was, to a certain extent, to be provided for when he chose to come to Italy; but he promised to make no long stay in any one town. The cities were to choose their own consuls, who were to be invested with their dignity by the Emperor or his representatives. The ceremony, however, was to be performed only once in five years. In important matters where more than a certain sum was at stake, appeals to the Emperor were to be allowed.

With the city of Alessandria, so long to him a thorn in the flesh, Frederick had already come to a separate agreement by consent of the league. The city was, technically, to be annihilated, and then to be refounded; it was no longer to bear the name of the Pope, but that of the Emperor. Alessandria was to become Cæsarea; yet none of the Inhabitants was to suffer by the change.

The treaty is extant; it provided that the people should leave the
city and remain without the walls until led back by an imperial envoy.
All the male inhabitants of Cæsarea were then to swear fealty to the
Emperor and to his son Henry VI.

The Lombard cities, from this time forward, remained true to
Frederick.