Frederick the Second

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Frederick the Second Page 68

by Ernst Kantorowicz


  The first thing to note is the conciliatory spirit of the Emperor. He made one concession after another to shake off at last the burden of the ban. It was soon manifest that an amicable solution would not be easy to find, and the Pope embarked on a double game. He did not abandon the serious negotiations, he fought every point with Frederick’s envoys, but at the same time he endeavoured to evade the peace question altogether. Frederick had sent to the Pope as his representatives Piero della Vigna and Thaddeus of Suessa, by far the most experienced diplomats of his court and skilled in every variety of subterfuge. With them was associated the indefatigable and ever-faithful Archbishop Berard of Palermo to hold a watching brief for the ecclesiastical issues. These three imperial envoys were released from the ban in order that they might treat with the Pope. Innocent had rejected Frederick’s proposal that the negotiations should be conducted at the imperial court; he knew too well, and feared, the Emperor’s eloquence and his power over men.

  A great deal of the business was quickly and easily disposed of. The Emperor had always recognised the papal authority in spiritual affairs and acquiesced unconditionally therein. He declared himself prepared to render any satisfaction to any degree that the Church might demand: alms, pious foundations, even the penance of fasting. When he had received absolution he was prepared to restore the Church’s Patrimony on condition of himself being the Advocate, in exchange for which privilege he was ready either to pay interest far exceeding the actual revenue or to undertake the re-conquest of the Holy Land at his own expense. This would, however, have been a new victory for Frederick, and Innocent refused to entertain the suggestion. In this, as in every agreement between Emperor and Pope, the most difficult question of all was that of Lombardy. Frederick took his stand on the indisputable fact that his excommunication by Gregory IX had nothing to do with the Lombard question and that his absolution should not depend on it. Innocent was perfectly aware that the Emperor’s legal position was unassailable and that in any legal discussion the Papacy would be the loser. On the other hand neither he nor any other Pope could afford to sacrifice the Lombard alliance. Moreover, the Milanese were nervous about a hasty peace, which was sure to be unfavourable to them, and Innocent had reassured them by a promise not to negotiate without them.

  Innocent’s hands were, in fact, tied by Gregory’s agreement with Venice, Genoa, Piacenza and Milan, that none of the contracting parties should conclude a separate peace. The Pope, therefore, demanded that the Emperor should accord peace to the whole Christian world, not only to a part. The Emperor was prepared for this, and after some hesitation announced that he was anxious not to let all the negotiations be shipwrecked on this one reef, and that as regarded the Lombards he would be willing to revert to the situation as it had been at the moment of his excommunication in 1239. Just as this concession seemed about to secure an agreement an event occurred which, for the moment, interrupted all discussions. The loyal town of Viterbo suddenly yielded to papal machinations and deserted the Emperor.

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  It is quite possible that the defection of Viterbo at this particular moment was not wholly welcome to the Pope. He had not himself directly brought it about, though he knew what was going on. The anti-Kaiser cardinals had good reason to distrust a peace. Their leader was the fanatic Rainer of Viterbo, a man of the school of Innocent III and Gregory IX, who hated Frederick with all the fire and passion of the dead Pope. He was a soldier by instinct and one of the first cardinals of Rome to win glory and honour in the field as warrior and general. The one thing he dreaded was peace. He, therefore, made it his business so to widen the breach that in future any compromise with this hated Emperor (whom at one time he had revered and even loved) should be impossible. He devoted himself to this task with singleness of heart. Cardinal Rainer of Viterbo was the cause of all the most grievous breaches of faith of which the Church was guilty, the author of the most venomous and malicious pamphlets to which this quarrel gave birth. He had his way.

  With the assistance of some friends he had long intended to organise a rising of his native town of Viterbo against the Emperor, though he was by no means unpopular there. Pope Innocent was not in favour of this scheme, but gave the cardinal ambiguous powers to work in the Tuscan Patrimonium for the advantage of the Church. The Pope was thus covered and yet had avoided a breach with the cardinals, who had grown somewhat too independent during the papal vacancy. If the enterprise were successful it might always be turned to advantage. The revolt was successful. The imperial garrison had, perhaps too precipitately, retreated into the citadel of Viterbo, where they could hold out for several weeks. The populace in general looked on indifferently. Those citizens who were imperial partisans were overcome after heavy fighting.

  Frederick was in Melfi when he got the news of the loss of Viterbo. “He leapt like a lioness robbed of her young or a she-bear bereft of her cubs. Clothed in the fire of his wrath he rushed like a midnight tornado to punish the town; like a courier for speed he rode, and with no royal pomp. Mounted on a red horse he came to snatch peace from the earth.” Thus Rainer describes the Emperor’s coming. He hastily gathered an army of Apulians and of his ever-ready Saracens and dashed to Viterbo. At the same time he sent the alarm to the Vicars General of the surrounding provinces to bring their town infantry to his help without delay. He thus got together a fair army in a short time, but the interval was sufficient to give the people of Viterbo, egged on by Rainer, opportunity to throw up strong entrenchments. On a certain Sunday the imperial forces mustered for the attack. The ever-resourceful Piero della Vigna helped to organise the troops. The Emperor in person led one wing against the entrenchments, the second was commanded by the young Count of Caserta. In spite of spirited attacks however—the Emperor leaped from his horse and seizing a square shield wrathfully led the charge—the strong town was not to be taken by storm. Siege machinery had to be fetched. Some weeks later the attack was renewed at dawn. In an attempt to employ Greek fire against the fortifications one of the attacking towers caught fire. The wind, which at first had been blowing the flames against the town, suddenly veered, so that the other attacking towers caught fire and were finally burnt to ashes. This second attempt was, therefore, unsuccessful.

  The Pope chose this moment to resume the negotiations. He was impelled to this because friends of the Emperor’s, the Count of Toulouse and the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople, were working at the papal court for peace, and the Viterbo question was causing Innocent uneasiness, for it wore an air of illegality. He, therefore, despatched Cardinal Otto of St. Nicholas, the Emperor’s new and trusty adherent, to Frederick to come to terms about Viterbo. He was possibly empowered to offer the Emperor absolution on more favourable terms if he would abandon his attacks on the town. Frederick had no wish to embark on a second prolonged siege like Faënza. Moreover, since Viterbo was situated in papal territory, he would have to give it up again as soon as he was released from the ban, and peace now seemed at hand. He quickly came to terms with his friend Cardinal Otto and agreed to withdraw into Apulia, stipulating that the half-starved imperial garrison should be allowed to go free. This agreement was ratified also by the people of Viterbo on oath. Then the unforgivable occurred. Cardinal Rainer, haunted by visions of the hated peace, hounded the citizens of Viterbo against the exhausted garrison, and as the imperialists sought to leave the city they were cut down almost to a man, though Cardinal Otto sought to control the mob and with his own body strove to stay the slaughter.

  Frederick II knew perfectly that Rainer of Viterbo was the sole culprit. This flagrant breach of the cardinal’s oath shocked him profoundly: it undermined his faith in all human statutes. It was not, he wrote to Otto, the massacre of his people nor the injury to himself that so deeply moved him; he must beg to know “What expectations can we have of success if human good faith is so despised, if all shame is cast aside, if conscience is powerless, if no respect is paid to the honour of spiritual fathers! What bond will hold amongst men? To whom can we
look for reconciliation in so serious a quarrel, in which almost the whole world is involved, if the promise of a holy legate, nay, of a cardinal—a name which should be venerable amongst the peoples—is suddenly violated?” The catastrophe was monstrous. Frederick at first could scarcely realise it. It was a foretaste of what was yet to come. His wrath against Rainer and the people of Viterbo was unbounded. Ten years before he had enquired of Michael Scot whether hate would not suffice to give the soul power to return after death. He is said now to have prayed that his bones might arise from the dead to destroy Viterbo; he could not slake his thirst for blood unless he might fire the town with his own hand, and though he had one foot in Paradise he would withdraw it to take vengeance on Viterbo. Only for the sake of the world-peace which was now at stake he would turn the key on righteous wrath and lock his just grievances in his heart. Thus he wrote to Cardinal Otto, freely exonerating both him and the Pope.

  The events in Viterbo appeared to cause the Pope great pain. He exacted a fine from the town, and to ensure its collection he entrusted the execution of the sentence to: Cardinal Rainer. He also commanded the release of the surviving ill-treated imperialists. With the Cardinal’s connivance the order was disobeyed, and Innocent blandly apologised: he would have been glad to put the matter right, but he did not want to risk the loss of the town that had so recently been (so treacherously) recovered. In face of such effrontery did Frederick still fancy Innocent his friend? Apparently he did. He still relied on the Pope’s fair dealing and wrote that he hoped through him to arrive at peace and compass his own release from the ban.

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  King Louis of France was now directly interesting himself in the peace negotiations, which set them moving again. On both sides an effort was made to settle knotty points in order that when Maundy Thursday came again the Emperor’s name might no longer appear on the Pope’s list as an outcast son of the Church. An elaborate formula with detailed clauses of reservation had been evolved to meet the Lombard difficulties: the Pope was to appoint the satisfactions to be rendered, but without prejudice to the imperial rights in Lombardy. On Maundy Thursday 1244 a provisional peace was sworn, the final form of which was still held over. The ceremony was public and was performed by the Count of Toulouse, Piero della Vigna and Thaddeus of Suessa in presence of the Cardinals, the Emperor of Constantinople, the Senator and the people of Rome. The Pope on his part named the Emperor in a public sermon as “a devoted son of the Church and a believing Prince.” Both sides were thus committed, and Frederick II joyfully acclaimed the event in addressing his son Conrad. He also informed the German princes and invited them to a Diet at Verona for a date to be determined later.

  Everything now seemed in equilibrium, but Pope Innocent had still the task of expounding the arrangement to the Lombards. Their envoys arrived in Rome, saw the draft treaty and rejected it. They demanded that the Pope and the Pope alone, should have unconditional and unlimited power to settle their differences with the Emperor. Frederick II refused to go back on the conditions already sworn. Innocent thereupon made arbitrary alterations in the fair copy of the treaty intended for ratification; Frederick refused to accept them. Hesitations on the Pope’s part followed. Suddenly the wind veered. It was no longer a question of the Lombards. The Emperor was to restore the territories of the Church before his absolution. With all his complaisance the Emperor could not concede this point. Who would be his surety that he would be absolved? The Pope had no need of sureties, for he could again excommunicate the Emperor if he failed to restore the Patrimonium according to treaty, and the status quo ante would be restored. It would have been madness for the Emperor to throw away his weightiest security—especially after the Viterbo experience. This phase of the negotiations is important, for the Pope now accused Frederick of perjury for refusing to evacuate the papal territories before receiving absolution. No time had been specified for the evacuation, simply because it was self-evident that it was to follow the Emperor’s release from the ban.

  Frederick II now requested a personal interview with the Pope and suggested their meeting in the Campagna. He would forthwith surrender this section of the Patrimonium. Innocent suspected treachery. He feared that the Emperor intended to get possession of his person. He first refused, then suddenly accepted, but preferred to meet at Narni rather than in the Campagna. The Emperor, therefore, moved to Terni, while Innocent with his court quitted Rome and halted first in Civita Castellana, sending Cardinal Otto to the Emperor. The subsequent negotiations were a pure mockery on the Pope’s part. He agreed to Frederick’s wish that he should repair to the Campagna. Frederick II had probably received some disquieting information and wanted to have the Pope near at hand. He was building everything on a personal interview. Before this took place the difficulties solved themselves in another way.

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  Since Innocent had recognised that no negotiations could end in a manner wholly satisfactory to the Curia he had planned his flight. He did not love the clash of weapons. Suppose that the negotiations finally broke down, suppose that war broke out again, suppose that he were still in Rome. … The events of Gregory’s day might repeat themselves; the capital might be besieged. The Genoese was taking no risks. Though he was Pope he had hidden in one of the back rooms of the Lateran for days and not ventured to appear at meals, because he feared the faithful in some matter of £3000. How would he have borne himself at the approach of armed men! Throughout the negotiations with the Emperor, Innocent had been only playing for time to complete his preparations. As soon as he was apprised that all was in order he fled from Civita Castellana to Sutri; thence by night, in disguise, accompanied only by a few followers, to Civita Vecchia, where a number of Genoese galleys lay at anchor ready to sail as arranged by him weeks before. While the Emperor awaited his arrival in Narni he put out to sea in the dawn of a certain morning. The story ran that imperial horsemen were hunting for the Pope. On the 7th of July, 1244, Innocent landed in his native town of Genoa, where he was enthusiastically welcomed. He was seriously ill from excitement and anxiety. He remained some months in Genoa to recuperate, but he did not there feel himself safe enough. In the late autumn he left the town, and after a severe winter journey arrived in Lyons in the beginning of December. This town nominally belonged to the Empire but was really independent. Here Innocent IV remained until his opponent was dead. It was the lever de rideau for Avignon.

  “I was playing chess with the Pope and was about to mate him or at least to take a castle when the Genoese burst in, swept their hand across the board and wrecked the game.” In these words Frederick II announced to the Pisans a few weeks later what had occurred. He was deeply moved by his opponent’s flight. He was normally mistrustful enough; this time he had trusted too long, and for the first time had been deceived and beaten on his own field of diplomacy. He knew only too well that it was no victory for him to have driven the Pope to quit Rome and Italy. With one manoeuvre Innocent had captured a whole series of important positions, and the consequences of this flight—his only personal exploit—would forthwith be felt in many directions. The Pope had only been able to escape the persecutions of a savage tyrant by speedy secret flight: such was the interpretation put on the matter by many. Innocent did his best to confirm this view by posing as a luckless fugitive, a hapless exile whose life was endangered by a crazy Emperor. He was surrounded by guards to protect him against imaginary assassins. In contrast to the Pope’s later procedure Frederick never intended to employ poison or dagger. The Church was not dependent as was the Empire on the life of one. A new Pope would have replaced the murdered one and the Church would have gained a martyr. “Who in his senses would imagine that we would seek the death of one whose death would bring undying strife on us and our successors!” Even yet the Emperor did all in his power to end the quarrel, but it was far more difficult to exert pressure on the Curia when the Curia was not in Rome.

  The flight to Lyons had not only rescued the Pope from the fruitless fluctuations of the neg
otiations but had given him personal liberty. He was practically beyond the Emperor’s reach. Lyons, instead of Rome, became the focus of the Roman Church, and without let or hindrance the Pope could get into immediate touch with all the world. The Emperor could no longer cut his communications. He was able from Lyons to summon the Council which Frederick had prevented four years ago. Within a few weeks of his arrival the Pope invited the princes of the Church and the ambassadors of the kings for the Feast of St. John 1245 to a Synod to arrange for the deposition of Kaiser Frederick.

  A possibility of peace again presented itself. Through the folly of the Christian knights in the Holy Land Jerusalem had been conquered in August 1244 by a Turkish tribe, the Khwarizmi, and for ever lost to Christendom. This misfortune demanded co-operation between the two powers, Empire and Papacy, and the Patriarch Albert of Antioch, supported on all sides, undertook the difficult task of bringing about a reconciliation. Above all Frederick wanted peace. The terms he now offered were equivalent to a complete surrender: the Pope should arbitrate unconditionally on the Lombard question, Frederick would evacuate the Patrimonium; he would depart for three years to the Holy Land to reconquer it; he would not return earlier without the Pope’s express permission; he would forfeit all his territories if he broke his vow; he would appoint kings and princes as his sureties. King Louis of France, who had also taken the Cross, supported Frederick by refusing permission to the Pope to reside in France. Innocent could hardly hold out longer without himself appearing as the disturber of the peace. On the 6th of May, 1245, he commissioned the Patriarch of Antioch, who was with the Emperor, to release him from the ban if the conditions were fulfilled.

 

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