The truce of God: A tale of the eleventh century

by George H. Miles

Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till, by wide spreading, it disperse to nought.

SHAKESPEARE.

The battle of Fladenheim was fought just as Gregory VII was opening his seventh synod at Rome. Hardly had the ancient canons been renewed and Guibert of Ravenna excommunicated, before the envoys of Rodolph appeared, and, after reciting Henry's fresh iniquities, supplicated their master's coronation and his rival's deposition.

The Pope had not failed to invite his impious antagonist to abide by his decision, but his recent defeat seemed only to have confirmed his obstinacy. It was evident that Henry would keep the field while a hope of success remained, and that peace could not be recovered but by the complete triumph of one of the hostile parties. The Pontiff no longer hesitated. Since all hope of an amicable adjustment had fled, the interests of the Church and of mankind required the ascendency of Rodolph; and Gregory saw that to withhold his sanction now, was to peril his cause, or at least to prolong the contest. The victory of Fladenheim had calmed the impetuosity of the Italian nobles who burned to declare for Henry; and they were disposed to preserve a safe neutrality. The cruelties and vices of the Franconian were past endurance; the moment for which the Suabian so patiently and yet so ardently looked, had at length arrived. Rising before the crowded council, the noble Pontiff, giving voice to a holy enthusiasm he could not restrain, invoked the aid of St. Peter, the Prince of Apostles, and of St. Paul, the Teacher of the Nations. He called upon them to witness, that in spite of his grief, his groans, and his tears, he had been chosen their most unworthy successor; and that princes, ecclesiastics, and courtesans were leagued to accomplish his death or exile. "By your authority," he exclaims, "relying upon the mercy of God and the pity of His Virgin Mother, I excommunicate Henry and all his partisans, and absolve his subjects from their allegiance. And even as Henry is justly deprived of his royalty by his pride, his disobedience, and perfidy, so are the same power and royal authority granted to Rodolph for his humility, his submission, and his merits."

The envoys of Rodolph hastened back to Saxony, bearing him the Papal confirmation of his election and the benediction so fervently pronounced. The king and his army were inspired with the most lively joy and confidence. Those who before had dreaded the result, no longer doubted, but deemed the agony of the empire already ended. Mass was celebrated amid universal rejoicings, and Saxon and Suabian forgot the desolation of their homes in this presage of victory and peace. The camp of Henry presented another scene. The excommunicated king abandoned himself to the most violent transports of fury. He swore the destruction of the daring Pontiff and the usurper who now went forth as the chosen champion of the Holy See. He assembled at Mayence thirty bishops and a proud array of princes and barons.

Here again was acted the solemn farce of the conventicle of Brixen. A decree was prepared and published, asserting that it was necessary to cut off from the communion of the faithful, a priest who had been rash enough to deprive the august person of majesty of all participation in the government of the Church, and to strike him with anathema. "He is not the elect of God," runs the instrument, "but owes his elevation to his own unblushing fraud and corruption. He has ruined the Church—he has distracted the State; he has embittered the life of a pious and peaceful monarch, upheld a perjured rebel, and scattered everywhere discord, jealousy, and adultery. For this, here in final council at Mayence, we have resolved to depose, expel, and, if he disobey our command, to doom to eternal condemnation a monster who preaches the pillaging of churches and assassination, who abets perjury and homicide, who denies the Catholic and Apostolic faith concerning the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ—this accursed Hildebrand, this ancient ally of the heretic Berengarius, this conjurer and magician, this necromancer, this monk possessed by a devil, this vile apostate from the faith of our fathers."

After this violent invective had been launched, Guibert of Ravenna was unanimously elected anti-pope, under the name of Clement III. Henry next addressed himself to win the support of England; but Cardinal Lanfranc condemned his precipitation, and refused to unite in these insults and outrages.

The brief respite from arms that followed the battle of Fladenheim was over. Hostilities had commenced. Cries of war were heard from every quarter, and while the two kings were mustering their strength for another great struggle, the partisans of Rodolph and Henry were daily mingling in deadly strife. Nor were princes and counts, knights, pages, and vassals alone in the field, but the spear and sword flashed in the hands of bishops, abbots, and monks. Ulrich, Abbot of Saint Gall, was ravaging Linzgau and Thurgovia, demolishing the castles of Otto, of Marchdorf, Marquard of Bregence, and Hartman of Kyburg, and forcing the friends of Rodolph to fly before him.

These trivial advantages were amply compensated by the victory of Welf over Frederick of Hohenstaufen, at Hochstadt, and the occupation of Augsburg.

It was in the month of October, 1080, that Henry, confiding in the superior of numbers and discipline of his army, advanced upon Saxony, where Rodolph calmly awaited his approach. Each monarch well knew that the approaching contest would be decisive of his fate, and had omitted nothing to insure the victory. Anxious to shorten an interval of such painful suspense, they longed to meet, Henry stimulated by hatred and the memory of his recent defeats, Rodolph animated by a just indignation and conscious rectitude.