Frederick the Second

by Ernst Kantorowicz

  King Enzio with some force had been sent on a few days earlier into the papal provinces that had of old belonged to the Empire: the March of Ancona and Spoleto. Frederick following him will not have met with much resistance. Cardinal John Colonna, whom the Pope had placed in charge of the defence of these regions, was one of Frederick’s most ardent supporters, which increased the confusion. The Emperor thus won once again one of his bloodless victories: his last. He had contrived, as in the dramatic actions of his earlier years, to make a masterly entry, so that the gates of towns and fortresses sprang open as if by magic at his approach. He trod the soil of the papal states as the Liberator, nay, the Saviour, whom his own were awaiting in Jerusalem. Summonses addressed under the sign of the Cross to the various communities preceded the invading Caesar with his Saracen escort. These appeals were designed to give the right tone to his arrival. Never before had Frederick II so undisguisedly proclaimed himself in the very words of the scripture as the Promised One:

  “Since the great and acceptable day is come which ye can make yet more acceptable to us and to the Empire we beg of you: Arise! direct your eyes to see the wisdom and the might of the Empire! And know ye us, your prince and gracious possessor! Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight! Take the bars from off your doors that your Caesar may come, gracious unto you and unto rebels terrible, at whose coming the evil spirits shall be silent which have so long oppressed you.” Similar were the words with which the Baptist announced the coming of the Lord and promised that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. It can only be the messenger of God who silences the evil spirits: him especially “whom men call the Pope.” To another town he calls: “The moment of your redemption for which we and you have yearned is nigh!” And the town’s joining him he styles its “conversion.” Frederick’s identification of himself with him whom the kings of the east came to seek in Bethlehem appears more unmistakably than elsewhere in the famous letter to his own birthplace, Jesi: “The instincts of nature compel us to turn to thee, O Jesi, and embrace thee with heartfelt affection, noble town of the March, the place of our illustrious birth, where our Divine Mother brought us into the world, where our radiant cradle stood: that thy habitations may not fade from our memory, that thou, our Bethlehem, birthplace of the Caesar, may remain deep-rooted in our heart. Thou, O Bethlehem, city of the March, art not the least among the cities of our race: for out of thee the Leader is come, the prince of the Roman Empire, that he might rule thy people and protect thee and not suffer that thou be in future subject to a foreign hand. Arise then, O our first mother, shake thee free from the foreign yoke. For we take pity on thy oppression and on the oppression of the Faithful. …” A more solemn cult of the birthplace could hardly be conceived than this, couched in the words of Holy Writ. The like had not been heard since Justinian had raised his birthplace to be a bishop’s see, second only to Rome alone. Foligno is also honoured, “In whose radiance our childhood began and which we revere as the home which nourished us.” The worship of his Bethlehem and the phrase “Divine Mother,” taken in conjunction with the legend that the nun his mother had miraculously borne him, had a quite peculiar significance.

  On the Emperor’s arrival in these regions the papal authority instantly crumbled both in Spoleto and in the March of Ancona. The towns, with few exceptions, opened their gates most gladly to this Caesar who came “accompanied by Salvation.” And wherever the Liberator entered he was received with rejoicing, for “one and all were right glad to find themselves under the protection of a master’s hand.” Deep emotion and astonishment must have gripped the people of the Papal States at the sight of the Emperor, especially those who were papalists at heart. One of these reported this blasphemous march of the Messiah: “He has the Cross borne before him, himself the enemy of the Cross, while he paces through the land of the accursed. In Foligno and in Gubbio he shamelessly presumes to bless those whom the Church has cast forth, consecrating them, so eyewitnesses assure me, with his godless right hand. And in these and other regions in spite of the ban he has caused masses to be said and has celebrated the other holy offices… he, the forerunner of Antichrist.”

  *

  Frederick II appears, in fact, to have halted in Foligno in considerable state. The ambassadors of many towns and many of his own nobles, amongst them King Enzio, were assembled round him while he made a speech, and in accordance with his office restored peace between Gubbio and another community. It is probably true enough about his blessing the people. For a court was held in Foligno with all the elaborate ceremonial which had been customary of late since Cortenuova, and a firm and lasting peace proclaimed throughout the Empire. The Emperor was enthroned in serene detachment above the multitude, while like an officiating priest Piero della Vigna stood by his side and communicated to the audience the oracle of the imperial Godhead while the people bowed the knee before his majesty. This type of ceremony was exotic in the west and aroused redoubled stir and amazement in the Papal States, especially since the Emperor’s retinue included Mussulmans.

  The re-occupation of the imperial provinces was one uninterrupted triumphal march. His success exceeded expectation, and decided Frederick to push on into the Patrimonium proper, papal Tuscany, “where on all sides the peoples’ prayers call for our presence and arrival.” The same scenes are repeated. The people of Tivoli, Orta, Sutri, the fortified Montefiascone, and many other towns went over with banners flying to the Emperor, at their head the most important of all: Viterbo. By the middle of February the Emperor was installed in Viterbo with his whole court and had been greeted with rejoicing. The imperial plenipotentiaries whose duty it is to receive oaths of allegiance can scarcely keep pace with their task, writes the Emperor at this time.

  More and more narrowly, more and more closely, Frederick drew his circles round the centre of the Empire: suddenly he stands before Rome. The road from Viterbo lies open before him. Shall he now end his fantastic tour of victory with the sack of Rome, take the Pope prisoner like any ordinary enemy general—and make the Church the gift of another martyr? To Frederick this road was barred. Only as the Caesar Augustus of prophecy, only without a blow as Prince of Peace, could he enter the city of cities. This he planned to do. “One deed is left to do: if the whole Roman people is in our favour and greets our coming with rejoicing as it has begun to do, then we should prepare joyfully to enter the city and revive the ancient festivals and the triumphal laurels, to show the victorious eagles honour due. Then shall our contemners feel belated shame, when they see us face to face, then they shall fear him whom their loose lips roused to wrath.”

  The Roman populace was, in fact, well disposed. Roman nobles had again got into touch with Frederick, who had himself addressed new letters to the Romans full of reproaches. Sunk in ignoble lethargy not one of the tribe of Romulus, not one of the Quirites, not one of the many nobles, not one of the ten thousands of the Roman people had dared to hinder the Pope when this Roman priest in Rome itself pronounced the ban against the Roman Emperor. That Emperor who derived his name from their city had come once more to make the name of Rome glorious again and famous as in the days of old. Frederick called himself the benefactor and father of the Romans, and immediately responded to the request of Senate and People to spare the conquered town of Sutri. His influence in Rome was increasing and grew with his success.

  The Emperor’s partisans in Rome intrigued all the more ardently against the Pope, whose position became from day to day more untenable. All portents were against him. Far from attacking Frederick in Sicily or repressing him in Lombardy Pope Gregory was losing province after province of the States of the Church left to him by his predecessors, and while he warned his towns against the machinations of Antichrist he saw town after town opening its gates to the Saviour. The revolution which he himself had conjured up was not to be stayed and was victorious all along the line. Not only the Roman people turned their backs on the aged fanatic. His cardinals were no longer to be trusted. The majority were hosti
le. Some had already left him. By his passionate obstinacy the old man had brought himself and the Church to the verge of destruction. He stood alone. His cause seemed lost.

  Meanwhile the excitement in Rome was at its height. The Emperor had left Viterbo and started on the march to Rome by way of Sutri. Only one or two days’ march separated him from the city. The papalists spread the wildest rumours. What did that avail! The Antichrist, the Monster had sworn, they cried, to turn St. Peter’s into a stable and to make the altar of the apostles a manger for his steeds, to cast the body of his Lord to the dogs… he was approaching with his wild Saracens to overthrow the chair of St. Peter. With his new rites he would outvie the “three impostors,” revive the practices of heathen times, would have himself installed as Pope or even God in the holiest of holies! None of these terrifying suggestions carried weight. The Romans intoxicated themselves with the “resounding words, the mighty gestures, the awe-inspiring deeds” of their Caesar and Imperator, and shouted for joy at the approach of the laurel-crowned Deliverer:

  ECCE SALVATOR! ECCE IMPERATOR!

  VENIAT VENIAT IMPERATOR!

  The fate of the world was balanced on a knife’s edge.

  But Rome, “the harlot who offers herself for sale to any man who draws near,” as a contemporary chronicler phrases it, had not been vainly depicted on the seals as a woman with a palm branch in one hand and in the other a globe, reposing on a lion, symbol of world rule which Pope or Emperor could exercise only in her name. He was the victor who first won her favour. Pope Gregory IX had waited long. Now in the hour of utmost need he turned for help to the saints of Rome, the two apostles. It was the festival of Peter’s Chair. In spite of riot and unrest the Pope ordered the usual ceremonies to be carried out: the heads of the Princes of the Apostles, Paul and Peter, splinters of the True Cross, and other relics of Christian Rome were borne in solemn procession to St. Peter’s. He himself, the aged man—reputed to be a hundred—paced along shrouded in incense amidst his prelates and the faithful cardinals. The crowd greeted him with boisterous mockery. Pope Gregory, however, at other times so hot-headed, preserved a royal calm. He pointed to the heads of the apostles: “These are the antiquities of Rome, for whose sake your city is venerated! This is the Church, these are the relics, which it is your duty, Romans, to protect! I can do no more than one man may; but I do not flee, lo, here I await the mercy of the Lord!” And taking the tiara from his head he placed it protectively over the relics of the saints. “Ye Holy Ones! Protect ye Rome when the Romans care for her no more!” Whereupon the mocking multitude broke into sobs, snatched from their garments the imperial eagles, tokens of Antichrist, and replaced them by the sign of the Cross, prepared to fight for their threatened Church. Caesar in the purple of the Triumphator was forgotten. Frederick II passed by the capital of the world, and proceeded to his kingdom of Apulia.

  * ‘The Germanic root *fride = peace and *rı¯k = rule.—Tr.

  VIII. Dominus Mundi

  Cult of the Emperor—The sacratissimum ministerium—

  Outburst of Sicilian art—Capuan Gate—Nicholas of

  Pisa—St. Francis and “Gothic” painting—Diet in

  Foggia, 1240—Inefficacy of papal ban—Princes’ effort

  to mediate—Surrender of Ravenna—Resistance of

  Faënza—Cost of prolonged operations—Issue of

  leather coins—Hostilities against Venice—Gregory’s

  General Council—Frederick’s counter-measures—

  Gregory’s pact with Genoa—Fall of Faënza, April 14,

  1241—Destruction of Benevento—Victory at sea, 1241;

  capture of 100 prelates—Mongol threat—Battle of

  Liegnitz, 1241—Pope hinders Crusade—Muslims retake

  Jerusalem, Nov. 1240—Frederick negotiates recovery of

  Jerusalem—Advance on Rome; death of Pope

  Gregory—Status of Empire in Europe—Relations

  between Frederick and brother kings—Saint Louis—

  Stirps caesarea; Deification of the Hohenstaufens

  —Conclave of Terror, 1241—Innocent IV elected

  Pope—Defection of Viterbo—Treachery of Cardinal

  Rainer—Provisional peace, 1244; breaks down—

  Flight of Innocent IV—Lyons—Diet of Verona

  —Rainer’s hostile propaganda—Council of Lyons—

  Thaddeus of Suessa—Deposition of Frederick II

  VIII. Dominus Mundi

  “Tho’ we cannot everywhere be present in the flesh, yet our restraining hand is felt even to the remotest frontiers of the earth.” This phrase of Frederick II’s is characteristic, for himself and for his sacrum imperium. All the while that he was concentrating his Empire at the core in Italy, the land of its origin, his invisible influences were potent in the world at large and with mysterious power sucked the whole globe into the vortex of his strife with Rome. His dash for the City of Cities, whose possession would magically have assured his world dominion, had unfortunately failed. What the upshot would have been if he had succeeded none could guess. The mere attempt had filled the world with sudden unrest: the Emperor before the walls of Rome; the Pope in direst need. A sudden misgiving was felt: what unthinkable development might be expected from this excommunicate Emperor whom the Church cursed as Antichrist, but whose followers acclaimed him as the Saviour and Messiah while they prepared his paths before him?

  For the moment Pope Gregory had averted Fate, but the whole of Christendom lived in continuous anxiety of what this Emperor and the morrow might bring forth. The deafest began to hear, the blindest to see and to perceive something fateful in Frederick’s mission. Prophetic verses quivering with apocalyptic horror filled Europe with a shudder of uncertainty. They reached Pope Gregory. Men said that Frederick was the author. The world held its breath to catch the wing-beat of those birds of fate which in the starry heavens should hover round the Prince of the Last Days:

  Fate is still as the night. There are portents and wars

  In the course of the stars, and the birds in their flight.

  I am Frederick, the Hammer, the Doom of the World.

  Rome, tottering long since, to confusion is hurled,

  Shall shiver to atoms and never again be Lord of the World.

  With what designs was Frederick credited who had uttered dark threats against the Romans, “drunk with draughts from the cup of Babylon!” “Your Babel shall be dissolved, Damascus shall fall, the bellows shall be consumed with fire, the throne erected towards midnight shall crash and the apron hung about your loins shall rot in the zeal of our exalted glory which the eye of God ceaseth not to illumine, which causeth the ulcers of darkness to perish, and to which well-nigh the whole universe doeth homage.”

  Neither camp had failed to realise the epoch-making nature of Frederick’s mission: whether with rejoicing or with paralysing fear people saw the power of the Divus Augustus ever growing, saw the dizzy heights which he was scaling and the abysses which were yawning at the Pope’s feet. Friend and foe alike believed that the wearer of the imperial diadem was sent by God himself and was striding through the world for a blessing or a curse to Christendom. None was insensitive to the extraordinary something. For decades the world had been busy seeking to interpret the imperial manifestation: was Frederick, fulfilling the time as Tyrant and King to the confusion of the peoples, Antichrist himself?—or was he the Prince of Peace, the Saviour bringing in the reign of Justice? The world recognised only these two mythical possibilities for a ruler of this stature. Every act and phrase of Frederick was forced into one or other of these ready-made moulds. Every event was interpreted as the fulfilment of a biblical or sibylline prophecy pointing either to Christ or Antichrist. Even the complimentary form of address which now became frequent, DOMINUS MUNDI, was full of ambiguity, for Satan also was “Lord of the World.” According to taste, therefore, Frederick II was the Bringer of Absolute Good or of Absolute Evil. In either case he was the “Expected One,” and this he remaine
d for centuries in the faith of the peoples.

  Since none even of his foes failed to appreciate the exceptional character of Frederick’s mission it is easy to understand the veneration he evoked amongst the “Faithful.” The phrase of his own that concluded the threats against Rome: “The earth obeyeth us and the sea doeth homage and all that we desire cometh forthwith to pass” indicated the type of tribute which was seemly. The resistance of Rome seemed incomprehensible to Frederick’s adherents. A long Greek poem against the Romans written by the Chartophylax Georgios of Gallipoli, runs: “Rome who of old had her Caesars and her kings and her satraps and rendered glory for glory. … Alas! we must mourn that she has driven forth her Caesars, the trebly-blessed… since Fate has plunged the best and the mightiest Rule of One into an evil Rule of None… but He the mighty trebly-fortunate Frederick, the Radiant, the Wonder of the World, τὸ θαῦμα τῆς οἰκουμένης, whose bow is of brass, whose lightnings blind the foe; earth is his servant and the sea and the vault of heaven, the Just in fame, the Exalted… his voice thunders and the noise of his chariots… his lightnings flame from on high annihilating the enemy’s arrogance. What trembling at such a campaign!… Murmur, therefore, O Rome, wholesome words of divinely-inspired determination… exalt him above every cedar… and expel for his sake the whole race of corruption.” The Calabrian official utilising the resounding metaphors of the Byzantine court diction here represents the Emperor as Jupiter, the angry Thunder-God; not seriously different from the phrases which the Imperial Chancery was wont to lavish on the Ruler: “Of a truth earth and sea revere him and the winds of heaven praise him whom the Deity has granted to be the true Emperor of the World, the Friend of Peace, the Protector of Love, the Founder of Law, the Preserver of Justice, the Son of Power who ruleth the World.”