In Italy, Guido of Spoleto was victorious over Berengar of Friuli, and in 891 was crowned emperor by the pope, Stephen V. He died in 894, and his son Lambert also received the imperial crown, from Pope Formosus. Arnulf had been acknowledged emperor throughout the north, but not having been anointed or crowned by the pope, his right was liable to be disputed by Guido, and being entreated by both Berengar and Formosus, the latter of whom was held in derision by the insolent Spoletan, he resolved to march at the head of a powerful force into Italy. He has been blamed for quitting Germany, at that period not entirely tranquillised, and exposing himself and his army to the hot climate and diseases of Italy, and to the treachery of the inhabitants, which might easily have been turned upon themselves, and never could have endangered him on this side of the Alps. Arnulf’s visit to Italy, the first so-termed pilgrimage to Rome which was undertaken with the double aim of having the ceremony of an imperial coronation performed and of receiving the oath of fealty from his rebellious vassals, has been regarded as a misfortune, because visits to Rome became from this period customary, and ever proved disastrous to the empire. But judgment ought to be given according to the difference of times and circumstances. The union between the people of Lombardy and of Rome was not so close at that time as it became at a later period; no Italian national interest had as yet sprung up in opposition to that of Germany; the Italians were uninfluenced by a desire of separating themselves from the empire, as in later times, but were rather inclined to assert their right over it. Guido, who was connected with the Carlovingians, attempted to turn the separation that had taken place between the northern nations to advantage, and appropriated to himself the title of emperor; and, as far as these circumstances are concerned, Arnulf’s visit to Italy appears to be justified. The visits undertaken at a later period to Rome were, on the other hand, unjustifiable in every respect, by their imposing, as will hereafter be seen, a foreign ruler on Lombardy and Rome, whose union had become gradually stronger, and whose erection into an independent state, to which they were entitled by their geographical position and by their similarity in language and manners, was ever prevented by fresh invasions.
[894-914 A.D.]
Arnulf crossed the Alps, 894 A.D.. Ambrosius, graf of Lombardy, closing the gates of Bergamo against him, he took the city by storm, and hanged his faithless vassal at the gate. His further progress was impeded by the treachery of Eudes, the French king, who took advantage of his absence to arm against him, whilst Rudolf of upper Burgundy actually marched to the assistance of the Spoletans, and Arnulf was thus reluctantly forced to retrace his steps. He undertook a second expedition across the Alps in 896, and advanced into Tuscany, where he was amicably received by Adalbert, the faithless markgraf,[142] and by Berengar, who no sooner found themselves deceived in their expectation of making him subservient to their own interest and of easily outwitting him, than they assumed a threatening attitude. Arnulf, undismayed by the dangers with which he was surrounded, instantly marched upon Rome, whose gates were closed against him by the Spoletans, who successfully repelled every attack on the walls, and the emperor was on the point of retreating, when his soldiers, enraged at the sarcasms of the Italians who manned the walls, rushed furiously to the attack, and carried the city by storm. Lambert’s adherents fled, and the rescued pope placed the imperial crown on Arnulf’s head.[e] But Germany, divided and helpless, was in no condition to maintain her power over the southern lands; Arnulf retreated in haste, leaving Rome and Italy to sixty years of stormy independence. Arnulf died in 899 at Öttingen and was buried at Ratisbon.[a]
On Arnulf’s retreat, Lambert regained the sovereignty of Italy, and again reduced Berengar and Adalbert to submission.[143] He was assassinated in 898, and his adherents invited Ludwig, the son of Boson, into Italy. This prince was a Carlovingian, and grandson to Ludwig II, and at that time reigned over Burgundy. Bertha, the ambitious wife of Adalbert, who was residing at Lucca, and whose pride could not brook the idea that her son Hugo was merely count of Arles, and Ludwig’s vassal, plotted his destruction. In order to lull his suspicions, she gave him a friendly reception, but no sooner beheld him entirely in her power than she betrayed him to Berengar, who caused him to be deprived of sight (905 A.D.). Hugo then made himself master of lower Burgundy (Arelat), and after the assassination of Berengar (925) was placed by his mother on the throne of Italy. This country seemed destined to be governed by women; after the death of Bertha, a wealthy Roman, named Theodora, seized the reins of government, revived the ancient spirit of paganism, and drew all in her licentious train. One of her lovers she caused to be elected pope, as John X. Her daughter Marozia, who surpassed her mother in lewdness, married successively two of the sons of Bertha, first Guido, and then King Hugo, with whom she lived in the most profligate manner. She kept lovers, and he a harem of mistresses, to whom he gave the names of different heathen goddesses. Her son, Octavian, who became pope, as John XI, died suddenly, and Hugo was driven from his throne (946 A.D.) by his stepson, Alberic, the son of Guido and Marozia, who made Rome his seat of government, whilst a grandson of Berengar, Berengar II, reigned in upper Italy. Hugo’s former inheritance, and the Arelat or lower Burgundy, were united with upper Burgundy under Rudolf II, and even his Italian kingdom seemed forever lost to his remaining son, Lothair, whose wife, the beautiful Adelheid, was destined to decide the fate of Italy.
THE BABENBERG FEUD
[895-946 A.D.]
Arnulf had, during his lifetime, placed his son, Zwentibold, on the throne of Lorraine, in order to guard the frontiers of the empire against the Normans. This young prince entered into alliance with Eudes of Paris, whose daughter he married, and by his insolence drew upon himself the dislike of the clergy. His ill treatment of Rathod, archbishop of Trèves, also rendered him unpopular with the commonalty. A rebellion broke out in Lorraine, and he lost both his crown and his life in a battle that took place on the Maas (900 A.D.). Eudes’ reign in France was also of short duration. Charles the Simple was replaced on the throne by the bishops and the vassals, who found their advantage in the imbecility of their monarch. Charles created Regingar duke of Lorraine, and was forced to acknowledge Rollo, duke of Normandy.
In Germany the great vassals, and the bishops also, usurped the direction of affairs. Ludwig, the second son of Arnulf, surnamed the Child, on account of his being at that time only in his seventh year, was, by the intrigues of Otto, duke of Saxony, and of Hatto, archbishop of Mainz (Mayence), who sought to reign under his name, placed upon the imperial throne. The power of the bishops had become exorbitant without the aid of the popes, whose licentious conduct threatened at this period to endanger the church. Hatto, a man of daring courage and deep cunning, unprincipled and cruel, bore unlimited sway in France and in southern Germany, in which he was upheld by Otto, who sought to strengthen himself in Saxony, and to aggrandise his house by the aid of the church. Adalbert, the opponent of the Northmen, Henry and Adelhart, the sons of Henry of Babenberg, finding themselves neglected, and pressed from the north by the Saxons, from the west by the bishops, set themselves up in opposition. Rudolf, bishop of Würzburg, who was supported by Hatto, having obtained a considerable fief for his family by the abuse of his spiritual authority, Adalbert had recourse to arms, upon which Hatto, probably favoured by the ancient hatred of the rest of the vassals to the house of Babenberg, succeeded in having him put out of the ban of the empire.
Henry was killed, and Adelhart was taken prisoner and executed. Adalbert, meanwhile, made a vigorous resistance, and slew Graf Conrad, Bishop Rudolf’s brother, but was, erelong, closely besieged in his fortress of Bamberg. Hatto, finding other means unavailing, treacherously offered his mediation, and promised him a free and safe return to his fortress, if he would present himself before the assembled diet. Trusting to the word of the wily priest, the graf issued from his fort, at whose foot he was met by Hatto, who, in the most friendly manner, proposed their breakfasting together within the fortress before setting off on their journey. The graf assented, and returned with him to the fort; he then accompanied him to the diet, where Hatto declared himself exempted from his promise by his having restored the graf unharmed to his fortress for the purpose of taking his breakfast, and that now he was free to act as he deemed proper. The assembled vassals, upon this, unanimously sentenced Adalbert to death, and he was beheaded. Conrad, Bishop Rudolf’s nephew, was created duke of Franconia. This family of the Würzburg bishop was surnamed the Rothenburgers, from Rothenburg on the Tauber; their descendants acquired, at a later period, far greater celebrity under the name of the Saliers.
The treacherous policy of Bishop Hatto, however, made a deep impression upon the minds of the commonalty, among whom loyalty was still held in higher honour than the sacred head of the churchman, and historians relate that, whilst the dukes overlooked the conduct of the bishop and yielded to the outbreak of the popular dissatisfaction, Hatto’s name and the memory of his infamy were execrated and derided in popular ballads throughout Germany. His name represented the idea of hierarchical lust of power and avarice, and hence arose the legend that records his miserable death. It is said that, during a famine, a number of peasants who came to the bishop and begged for bread, were by his order shut up in a great barn and burned to death. From the ruins there issued myriads of mice, which ceaselessly pursued the wretched bishop, who vainly attempted to elude them, and who at length, driven to despair, fled for safety to a strong tower standing in the middle of the Rhine near Bingen, but here also the mice continued their pursuit, swam across the water, and devoured him. The tower is still standing, and is known at the present day as the Mäuseturm or mouse-tower. This example is a manifest proof that the popular fictions were founded upon fact, and clearly express the spirit of those times.[c]