These dreadful revelations brought tears of sorrow to the eyes of Gertrude and many of the listeners.
“At last,” continued Frederick, “we reached Jerusalem, where also both sovereigns came. Reduced in numbers and half-starved as we were, we nevertheless ventured to besiege Damascus, but were baffled again by these Eastern Christians, who, in consideration of Turkish gold, helped the enemy and obstructed us.”
“So you see,” interrupted Conrad, “we came back rich in exploits, but not crowned with victory.”
“That is not our fault,” replied Frederick, “and yet it is not just to lay the blame upon Providence. It is just as unreasonable also to reproach the Abbé Bernard of Clairvaux,[3] who advocated the Crusade, as to charge us with responsibility for the failure of the movement which he was certain would be successful. The highest human skill cannot avail against treachery. The grand work of rescuing the Holy Sepulchre will not succeed until all engaged in it are animated by Christian love and harmony, and work together for the common purpose, allowing nothing to divert them from its attainment.”
Chapter II
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.