The truce of God: A tale of the eleventh century

by George H. Miles

The Saxons exulting in their first success, wished to revive the league with Suabia; but first besought the Holy See to indicate which side they should espouse. Gregory's saintly and heroic reply displays the pure motives by which he was animated in excommunicating the king, and which continued to govern his conduct throughout the contest. He cannot recommend the anathematized monarch to the embraces of the Saxons—nor, on the other hand, does he entirely commend the self-interested zeal of Rodolph. He wishes to humble the king without exalting his adversaries— to reform the empire without a civil war. Had he possessed a particle of the lofty ambition which has sometimes been ascribed to him, this was the moment to attach the Saxons to the Suabian confederacy, and give a death-blow to the Franconian line. But instead of an animated exhortation to arms, in the name of outraged religion, the magnanimous Pontiff writes: "Forget not, I pray you, the frailty of human nature; and remember the piety of his father and his mother, unequalled in our time." Gregory's respect for Henry's parents seems to have inspired him with the charitable hope, which never deserted him, that the king would renounce his vices and return to virtue. It is well to keep this in view, since it is easier, after an inquiry into the struggle between them, to justify the severity than the lenity of the Holy See.

The fifteenth of October had at length arrived, and the eyes of Germany were eagerly directed to Tribur. The left bank of the Rhine was glittering with the chivalry of Upper Germany, and the legions of Suabia were encamped along the bristling river. Here might be seen the swarthy Bohemian, the stern Thuringian rider, the gay Loinhard, and the gigantic Swiss, all mingling together, and apparently indifferent as to where they might be led. Gilbert de Hers felt a new and ardent delight in gazing upon the long and dazzling array of helmets and spears. He longed for the hour when the whole mass would be in motion against a body as beautiful and powerful as itself. With far different feelings did Father Omehr behold the formidable battalia. He knew that the pomp of war, if often sung by poets, is oftener chronicled in hell. In the beautiful language of the age, he had been taught that "Peace is the language of heaven, for Christ, who came from heaven, spoke that language, saying, 'Pax vobis!' It is the language of Angels, who cried, exulting, 'In terra pax!' It is the language of the Apostles, who thus greeted every house they entered: 'Pax huic domui'" Were the hasty and unscrupulous penmen of our generation to draw their information from the writings of the Saints, instead of from martial legends or miserable perversions even of these, they would find the spirit of the Ages of Faith eminently pacific, and could be induced so to represent it. At least, the Church, the teacher and the regenerator of Europe, breathed nothing but "Peace!" Many holy doctors went so far as to condemn hunting, as being calculated to make men love war. And even the war-cry of the red-crossed knights was: "Mansuetudinem quærimus et non bella!"

The nobles of the empire, the principal prelates who remained faithful to Rome, and the Papal legates, Siccard, Patriarch of Aquileia, and Altmann, Bishop of Passau, were assembled within the town in solemn council. Scarcely, however, had their deliberations begun, before Otto of Nordheim, at the head of the flower of Saxony, appeared among them and declared himself in their favor. Then former jealousies and wrongs were forgotten, and Otto and Welf and Rodolph, cordially embracing each other, devoted themselves to the execution of whatever enterprise the common cause might require. Seven days were consumed by the council in the discussion of the diseases, the wants, and the dangers of the State. In the meantime, Henry, apprised of the meeting, had hastened with his army to Oppenheim, and occupied the opposite side of the river.

When informed that his cruelty, his blasphemy, his perfidy were strongly exposed and unanimously condemned, and that he was denounced as a violator of law and propriety, false to the dignity of the Church, and faithless to the State, he implored the princes to accept his contrition, and offered to resign all but the insignia of royalty, with which he could not honorably part, and to give hostages for his future good behavior. But the council replied that they knew his sincerity too well to desire another proof of it; and that a perfidy so deeply rooted as his must be incurable. The messages of the monarch served only to inflame his opponents still more violently against him; and the princes, disgusted with his pretended submission, resolved to elect a new king, pass the Rhine, and attack the imperial troops. Henry, driven to despair, concentrated his forces upon a single point, and prepared to give battle, determined to conquer or die.

But here, again, the peaceful spirit of the Church interfered to prevent a scene of carnage, by withholding the Apostolical suffrage from the nominee to the imperial dignity. As in almost every battle chronicled by Froissart, the bishops at first passed from army to army, exhorting to peace, and studying to bring the point in dispute to an amicable adjustment, so at this moment the Papal legates and the bishops compelled the confederates to give the king to the end of the year to repent, if he complied with certain conditions, the observance of which was required for the peace and safety of Germany. The two most important of these conditions were, to retire from public life, and to seek, in person, at Rome, the raising of the interdict. It is impossible not to see in this arrangement the finger of Gregory, solicitous to avert bloodshed, and directed by his magnanimous and charitable repugnance to credit Henry's utter depravity.

There were some who regretted this peaceful result, among whom the stern Baron of Stramen was conspicuous for his open denunciation of the treaty nor could the polished Lord of Hers conceal his contempt for a compromise, which threw away a present advantage, in consideration of the fear-extorted oath of a perjured debauchee. Rodolph himself deeply regretted that the Pope would not consent to crown him king, a consummation he required before acting against his brother, lest he should be branded as a rebel. Even Gilbert and Henry of Stramen were crestfallen in the blight of all their budding hopes. Of all our Suabian friends, Father Omehr was the only one who rejoiced in this amicable termination of the council, and who devoutly returned thanks to God for averting a direful war, and proclaiming, in the favorite language of heaven, "Pax fiat!"

During two months and a half, Henry buried himself in solitude at Spire. Rodolph remained watchful and expectant, now at Zurich, and now in Saxony. All was calm in the lordships of Hers and Stramen. The Lady Margaret was lamenting the absence of Father Omehr, who had been summoned to Rome, and whose missionary duties were performed by the pious Herman.

The year of grace was drawing to a close, and the proud baron began to hope that the emperor would permit it to pass without observing the stipulation in the treaty to repair to Rome and ask pardon of the Pope. The new year had begun, and January was half over when the King of Arles was startled with the intelligence that Henry had purchased from Adelaide, the widow of the Margrave Otho, a free passage into Italy, and, in spite of snow and ice, had crossed the Alps, and was approaching the fortress of Canossa, whither Gregory had retired. At first it was rumored that the monarch had gone to depose the Pope, and the Duke of Suabia secretly exulted in the prospect of instant action. But it was soon ascertained that Henry presented himself in the character of a suppliant, and the result of his application was awaited with breathless interest.

Early in the spring of 1077, toward the close of a cold, bright day, Rodolph was seated in his palace at Zurich, surrounded by Albert of Hers and Gilbert, on one side, and on the other, by Sandrit and Henry of Stramen. This strange meeting, though unexpected and unwelcome to the hostile knights, was designed by Rodolph, who thought that by thus accustoming them to restrain their passions in his presence, and by distinguishing them with equal confidence, aid praising both sides in equal measure, he might control, in some degree, the antipathies he could not entirely subdue. But the barons maintained a stern, unyielding reserve, and Gilbert studiously avoided the disdainful gaze of Henry of Stramen. The lamps were scarcely lighted when a messenger from Rome was announced, and the next moment Father Omehr entered the room.

The nobles rose, and, greeting the venerable missionary respectfully and affectionately, conducted him to a seat, and gathered about him. When the attendants had been dismissed, and the duke invited him to proceed, Father Omehr thus began to describe the interview between the Pope and the king, to which he had been an eye-witness: