The influence of the royal House of De Hauteville was extended, magnified, perpetuated, by the imperial House of Hohenstaufen. The traditions of the Arab, inherited by the Norman, were transmitted to and became the inspiration of the German. The genius of Frederick II. impressed itself indelibly upon the entire Teutonic race. It must not be forgotten that the most formidable revolt against Papal tyranny and corruption broke out in Saxony. The new German Empire owes largely its commanding position in Europe and its exalted rank in the scale of civilization to the talents, the energy, and the transcendent wisdom of the greatest monarch of mediæval times.
The fierce struggle between the Papacy and the Empire for universal rule began with the ascendency of the House of Hohenstaufen, in the beginning of the twelfth century. The princes of that House, eminent for valor and diplomacy, early displayed a spirit of insubordination towards the Holy See which augured ill for the political supremacy which had begun to be the leading object of its ambition. The Papal power, not yet consolidated, nor even fully defined, was unable to successfully oppose to the encroachments of the haughty German sovereigns those measures which afterwards proved so effective against the recalcitrant monarchs of Europe in the settlement of disputes involving its doctrines and its authority. The chaotic state of European politics made it impossible for the Pope to enlist the aid of any potentate able to withstand the tyrants of the North, whose ambition aimed at the absorption of St. Peter’s patrimony, as their insolence had already menaced the independence of his throne. Diplomatic negotiation had proved of no avail. The once formidable weapon of excommunication was treated with contempt. No other resource remained. The influence of the Empire attained its maximum during the reign of Henry VI.; and the Pope, surrounded on every side by powerful and determined enemies, seemed about to be degraded to the rank of an imperial vassal, when the sudden death of the Emperor, and the election of one of the greatest of the Supreme Pontiffs ever raised to the chair of the Holy See, reversed the political and ecclesiastical conditions, to all appearances firmly established, and upon whose maintenance so much depended, and opened the way for a train of calamities unequalled in their atrocious character by any acts of tyranny that have ever stifled independent thought or retarded the progress of human civilization.
Innocent III., when elected to the Papal dignity, was already a man of mature years, wide experience, and established reputation. His abilities as a scholar and a diplomatist, his familiarity with the principles of theology and law, had made his name known and respected throughout Europe, while the influence he exerted in the councils of the Church, long before his exaltation to its highest office, rendered him eminently conspicuous in the ecclesiastical affairs of Italy. With his extensive erudition and versatility of character were united talents for intrigue and administration equal to the most exacting requirements of statesmanship and command. Insinuating in address, jovial in conversation, by turns haughty and affable in manner, his unrivalled acquaintance with human nature, and his delicacy of tact, enabled him to regulate his conduct and his demeanor according to the circumstances of his political or religious environment. Conscious of his commanding genius, his insatiable ambition was not content with the enjoyment of the traditional honors and material advantages of Papal sovereignty; it aimed at the establishment of an autocracy, free from the interference of earthly potentates, nominally subject to celestial power alone, but, in fact, absolutely irresponsible and despotic.
Such was the formidable antagonist who, at the close of the twelfth century, confronted the majesty of the German Empire, represented by an infant less than four years of age. The minority of that infant, afterwards Frederick II., was one of degrading dependence and constant humiliation. His mother was compelled to acknowledge the suzerainty of the Pope in order to retain even nominal authority in her own hereditary dominions. Her death left her child the ward of the Holy See, in addition to being its vassal, and, in consequence, the entire ecclesiastical polity of his kingdom was changed; the clergy were declared independent of the secular power; grants of real property, confiscated by preceding emperors and confirmed by long prescription, were revoked, and the lands restored to the Church; quarrels among the turbulent nobles were industriously fomented, to afford a pretext for Papal interference and an extension of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, for the nominal purpose of reconciling enmities and preserving order; the Jews and Moslems, left without a protector and subjected to horrible persecution, were driven to the desperate alternative of exile or brigandage. As a result of these impolitic measures, Sicily became oppressed by anarchy far more deplorable and vexatious than that produced by the crimes and follies of Saracen misgovernment. Its population diminished; its prosperity declined; its commerce almost disappeared. With the returning ascendency of the priesthood, the evils inseparable from that condition—ignorance, intolerance, private corruption, organized hypocrisy—once more became predominant. The irruption of a horde of greedy and insatiable ecclesiastics into the rich Sicilian benefices brought with it all the abuses of Papal Italy. Simony was openly practised. Some priests lent money at ruinous rates of interest; some kept taverns; others derived enormous incomes from even more questionable places of public entertainment. The impurity of their lives and the blasphemies in which they often indulged soon caused them to forfeit the respect of their parishioners, as had long been the case at Rome. They were so careless of the outward observances and duties enjoined by their profession as to neglect the service of the altar until their conduct became a scandal. It was a matter of common complaint that the sacred vestments were ragged and filthy; the chalices unpolished; the sacramental wine sour; the Host, the visible symbol of God, unprotected from insects and covered with dust. The habits of the clergy were incredibly vile. The more exalted the rank and the more conspicuous the prelate, the greater was the example of pecuniary corruption and social depravity. The revenues of the Church, extorted from a reluctant and impoverished people, were squandered in the purchase of fine equipages, in sumptuous banquets, and upon rapacious courtesans. The duties of religion were forgotten in the general scramble for power. The palace of Palermo was the rallying point of these ecclesiastical politicians, whose broils and intrigues, so inconsistent with their calling, frequently disturbed the peace of the city, and whose vices were the reproach of a population which had never been able to boast of a high standard of personal morality.
The imperious spirit of Frederick, unwilling to brook interference in the affairs of his kingdom even from his feudal superior, first disclosed itself when he was but fourteen years old in a dispute with the clergy of Palermo, who appealed from his decision to the Pope. His defiance of the Pontiff was subsequently of such frequent occurrence as to be regarded as one of the leading principles of his administration. Innocent seems to have viewed with almost paternal indulgence the disobedience of a youth of excellent parts and undaunted resolution, who was subject to his authority not only as a member of the Christian communion, but in the double capacity of ward and vassal. His inability to appreciate the true character of Frederick was never so apparent as when he committed the fatal error which raised that prince to the greatest throne in Christendom. The paltry concessions extorted as the price of this great dignity were an indifferent compensation for the series of misfortunes its bestowal entailed upon Europe,—the rancorous hostility of faction; the perpetuation of intestine conflict, with its inseparable evils, widespread anarchy, the destruction of cities, the waste of provinces, the massacre of non-combatants, the obstruction of national progress; and the partial return to the barbarous conditions of former ages induced by the relentless strife of Guelf and Ghibelline. It is not the object of this work to minutely set forth the events of that mighty struggle. The relations of the Holy See and the Empire are only important as they may have affected indirectly the influence of the reforms instituted by the great Emperor; reforms whose foundation had been laid by two preceding dynasties of widely different character, and whose principles derived their origin from the colonization of Sicily by a nation utterly foreign to the laws and traditions of contemporaneous Europe.
Born under a southern sky, accustomed from childhood to daily intercourse with the most intellectual society of the age, Frederick II. retained to the last a decided predilection for Sicily, the land of his birth. The classic memories and romantic history of that famous island exerted over his active mind a most potent and lasting influence. He had no sympathy with, and less inclination for, the rude and barbarous customs, the coarse festivities, the ferocity, drunkenness, and bestiality of that country which was the original seat of his royal House, the realm whence he derived the proudest and most grandiloquent of his numerous titles. Educated by two Moorish preceptors, under the superintendence of a cardinal,—a curious circumstance which indicates that infidel learning had not yet entirely succumbed to ecclesiastical prejudice,—he in time became proficient in all the arts and accomplishments possessed by that remarkable people whose erudition and industry were admired and feared by the dominant race whose members the fortune of arms had made the depositaries of power and the interpreters of orthodoxy. This early, intimate, and constant association with Mohammedans and Greeks, in each of whose systems of government the temporal and spiritual functions were vested in one individual, undoubtedly suggested to the mind of the Emperor the stupendous project of merging the Papal office in the imperial dignity,—a combination of two despotisms under a single head, whose powers, of uncertain and indefinable extent, could not be questioned without incurring the penalties of both treason and sacrilege, and whose jurisdiction would eventually embrace the habitable world. The political and judicial systems instituted and perfected by Frederick II., remarkable in themselves, become almost marvellous when considered in relation to the era of their establishment, the difficulties encountered in their application, and the antagonism of the privileged classes whose designs they interfered with and whose abuses they were intended to correct and restrain. Two questions of paramount importance engaged the attention of this enlightened prince, questions containing in themselves the solution of every administrative and every social problem,—the promulgation of law and implicit obedience to its mandates, and the adoption of measures which might secure the greatest attainable happiness of the people. To the accomplishment of these noble and praiseworthy ends the talents and energy of the great ruler were constantly devoted,—in hours of triumph and in hours of humiliation; when engrossed with the cares of a vast and seditious empire; in the deserts of Syria; in the very face of death; in the bitterness of spirit induced by shattered dreams of long-nourished ambition.
The evils incident to a protracted minority had manifested themselves with more than ordinary prominence in the Kingdom of Sicily. The supervision of the Pope had, as usual, been uniformly exercised for the benefit of the ecclesiastical order and the aggrandizement of the Holy See. A fierce and rapacious aristocracy, impatient of restraint and eager for innovation, defied the laws, and wreaked their hereditary vengeance upon each other with every circumstance of merciless atrocity. The mass of the population, probably composed of more diversified elements and nationalities than any community of equal numbers in the world, unable to prosper and scarcely able to live, endeavored to obtain, by different methods, exemption from the intolerable persecution of their enemies. The Greek, with the craft of his race, attached himself to the faction which, for the time being, enjoyed the best prospect of success. The Jew purchased a temporary immunity by the voluntary surrender of the greater part of his possessions. Alone among his companions, the Saracen took up arms. His martial spirit and the numbers of his countrymen obtained from his turbulent and disorganized adversaries a tacit recognition of independence, which the rugged nature of the country that contained his strongholds did not a little to confirm. In the effort to re-establish the royal authority, the Saracens rendered invaluable assistance; they were among the first to assemble around the imperial standard; without their co-operation the result would have been uncertain; and their valor and fidelity preserved the empire of Frederick, as that of their fathers had consolidated the power of the Norman domination.
The jurisprudence of the Emperor was based upon and included the system established by the Normans. Its rules were modified and improved as experience had suggested would be expedient and profitable. The main objects of the laws were the extinction of feudal tyranny, and the enjoyment of private liberty so far as it was not inconsistent with the prerogatives of the crown. No monarch of ancient or modern times was more solicitous for the happiness of his subjects, and none ever more fully appreciated the fact that the test of a nation’s greatness is the benefit derived by mankind from its works, its history, its example. The difficulties encountered in the formation of a uniform code which could be enforced in such a cosmopolitan society as that of Sicily seemed insuperable. Feudal rights and ecclesiastical exemptions; the privileges of the Jews and Saracens, founded on prescription and confirmed by tribute; the jealous contentions of many forms of religious belief; the perpetual encroachments and usurpations of pontifical authority; the skepticism of Moslem philosophers, and the fanatical rage of persecuting zealots,—all of these antagonistic rights, claims, prejudices, and prerogatives it was necessary to correct, rearrange, amend, and embody in one practical, efficient, and harmonious system. The task, though stupendous, was not beyond the abilities and constructive genius of the great law-giver. The turbulence of the nobles was firmly restrained. All members of the clerical order were rendered amenable to the laws of the realm in cases which concerned the dignity and traditions of the empire. In matters relating to marriage alone they were permitted to exercise jurisdiction over those who had not taken the tonsure; the assent of the Emperor was necessary to the validity of an election; the prelate as well as the layman was compelled to assist in defraying the expenses of the government; nor, in any way, could he escape the discharge of duties enjoined by the Imperial Code or plead immunity from burdens necessary to the security of the state or the enforcement of order. The law of mortmain, framed under the direction of the Emperor, preceded the famous statute of Edward I., of which it was the prototype, nearly a century. Upon every individual the maxim was continually impressed that the sovereign was the fountain of justice, authority, and mercy. The criminal procedure, founded on Norman precedents, was singularly free from the legal atrocities generally prescribed by feudal regulations; the penalty of death was only inflicted for the most heinous offences; mutilation was seldom permitted except in the cases of incorrigible criminals; torture, while recognized, was one of the rarest of punishments. The courts were invested with every outward circumstance of official pomp and dignity. From the decision of the supreme tribunal there was no appeal; even in the monarch vexatious litigation was systematically discouraged; judicial bribery was considered a crime of peculiar infamy; and the practice of holding the magistrate responsible for the maintenance of peace in his district was a most efficient check upon the violence and depredations of professional malefactors.
In the statutes relating to the detection and punishment of heresy, the character of Frederick appears to singular and manifest disadvantage. His long wars with the Pope, his close intimacy with infidels, his oppression of ecclesiastics, the repeated acts of sacrilege of which he was guilty, the blasphemous speeches constantly upon his tongue, the profane and mysterious studies in which he delighted, his employment of and confidence in wizards and astrologers, demonstrate beyond contradiction the weakness of his faith or the profoundness of his hypocrisy. But the latitude of opinion and conduct which he allowed himself was in an inverse ratio to that which he vouchsafed to others. No familiar of the Inquisition ever pursued heretics with greater zeal or pertinacity than the famous monarch whose name is constantly associated with all that is liberal, enlightened, and profitable in the annals of human progress, an inconsistency all the more glaring in a prince whose favorite sentiment was, “The glory of a ruler is the safe and comfortable condition of the subject.” History has never been able to advance a satisfactory or even a plausible explanation of this anomaly; its cause, at this distance of time, must remain forever unknown, and may be ascribed, for want of a better solution, to the innate perversity of the human mind, which often by a single glaring defect obscures the brilliant lustre of a character eminently conspicuous for every princely quality, for every generous impulse, and for every literary and artistic excellence.
His commercial regulations were among the principal sources of Frederick’s power and greatness. His genius perceived at a glance the vast advantages which must result from an interchange of commodities with maritime nations; and, in the application of this principle, every facility was afforded those bold spirits whose energy the expectation of gain or the love of adventure directed into the channels of trade. Treaties more liberal in their provisions and more profitable in their effects than any which had heretofore been adopted by the powers of the Mediterranean were concluded with the greatest mercantile communities of Europe,—Constantinople, Venice, Genoa,—as well as with Damascus and Alexandria and the Moorish principalities of Africa and Spain.