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MEDIEVAL HISTORY LIBRARY |
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BOOK
V.
CONRAD IV—WILLIAM—RICHARD.
CHAPTER
III.
WILLIAM-RICHARD. [1254—1258.
Berthold’s Regency — Innocent’s Hostility — Manfred’s
Regency — Innocent in Apulia — Manfred’s Dangers — Flight — War with the
Pope — Death of Innocent IV — Alexander IV — Manfre’s
Struggles — Success — Election.
The last injunctions of Conrad to Margrave
Berthold, were, to announce his death without delay to the Pope; stating
that, with his dying breath, he had committed, spiritually and feudally, his
infant heir, the son he had never seen, to the paternal care and
protection of his Holiness: even as his grandmother, the Empress-Queen
Constance, had committed his father, Frederic II, to the paternal
care and protection of Innocent III. These injunctions
were punctually obeyed by Berthold, who had probably suggested them,
in the hope of thus rendering the regency, which he at once assumed, an
easier office, by disarming papal enmity. Innocent, if internally he
welcomed the intelligence, that he had weaker adversaries—a babe beyond
the Alps, and a regent hated by the people as a foreigner, instead of
a young and active monarch—to contend with, replied to the attempt at
propitiation by two acts of hostility, the one open, the other underhand.
He instantly despatched missives to Germany, imperatively prohibiting a
new election; yet more imperatively, any attempt to treat the child
of the late excommunicated and deposed monarch, as heir to the crown; by a
prodigious stretch of clemency, allowing him to inherit the duchy of Swabia
and the kingdom of Jerusalem. Had Duke Otho been alive, this assumption of
authority to despoil an infant would, perhaps, have been differently received.
But the orphan heir—named Conrad after his father, from whom the Italians
distinguished him by their pretty diminutive, Corradino, which other nations
have generally adopted under the form of Conradin—had, a few months before
his father’s death, lost the maternal grandfather who might have
actively asserted his right to the throne of his ancestors. His two uncles were
fully engrossed by their own interests, the division of their heritage
between themselves, and cared not to move in their nephews’ behalf. In
Germany, therefore, the Pope’s commands, having almost been forestalled,
were obeyed. In Italy, Innocent adopted a covert line of policy. He saw
the means of facilitating the eventual incorporation of the Sicilies with
the Estates of the Church, in habituating both parts of the kingdom
to the rule of papal officers. He accordingly replied to
the Margrave, that the kingdom itself, as well as the suzerainty,
appertained to the Holy See, wherefore he should both hold and govern it,
as part of the Papal dominions; but that, when the child should attain to
man’s estate, he would show him grace and favour, relatively to his
pretensions to the vassal crown, and consider what might fittingly be
granted him. He added that, as a present concession to this hypothetical
claim, he would, in the oath of allegiance to the Holy See, admit the
qualifying words, “Without prejudice to the possible rights of
the alleged heir, Conradin.” To all Christendom the Pope addressed an eulogistic statement of the extraordinary forbearance and placability displayed by the Church in
these transactions.
By the forbearance and placability,
such as they were, upon which Innocent thus prided himself, he
accomplished his present purpose. By obviating the objection of
those persons, who, whilst fully acknowledging the Papal suzerainty,
asserted the son’s right to succeed to his father, and his father’s
ancestors, he obtained, throughout the kingdom, oaths of allegiance to
himself: and to secure the taking of such an oath, however qualified, was
a great step towards the consummation of his schemes. His anxiety to
accomplish this step was increased, by the awkwardness of his position as a
temporal Prince, excluded, in that capacity, at least, from his proper
capital. A sovereign, so situated, could not but consider any progress
as a gain, cheaply purchased by temporizing.
The oath, thus qualified, was readily taken throughout
Apulia; and this appearance of moderation in the Pope, combining with
Italian hatred of transalpine foreigners, and consequent dislike of
Berthold as Regent, produced a general leaning towards the Papal cause, or
at least an inclination for Papal government, during Conradin’s nonage. The Margrave, who, though unopposed by
the Prince of Tarento, could not expect very cordial support from the
rival he had so artfully supplanted, knew not how to forbid the taking of
an oath, that reserved his ward’s rights; and found his self-imposed task
more irksomely difficult than he had at all anticipated. A modern
Bavarian writer says, that the widowed Queen
Elizabeth was entreated to bring the little King to Sicily, and assume
the regency during his minority. Such an invitation is not mentioned
by historians in general: and, if indeed given, must have been addressed
to her by her kinsman Berthold, who might think to excite Italian loyalty,
by the presence and education of the baby sovereign in Italy; whilst
he retained, in the mother’s name, the authority, that he
felt slipping from his grasp. But, whether
invited or not, certainly Elizabeth never trusted her boy or herself
amongst a people, who had been so little true to her consort.
Information now reached the Margrave, that the Pope
was raising an army, at the head of which, a Cardinal would take
possession of the kingdom and govern it as papal Lieutenant. The Regent
felt, that the almost universal dissatisfaction disabled him for the struggle
which must ensue; and, by a deputation of still loyal noblemen,
he offered the surrender of his arduous post, to the Prince
of Tarento; pledging himself, if the Prince would
undertake the office, to deliver into his hands the public
treasure then in his own custody and secure him the support of his
Germans. Berthold’s subsequent conduct awakens a suspicion, that his
purpose, in this message, was merely, by a show of disinterestedness, to
conciliate his Italian messengers; and, perhaps, obtain more vigorous
assistance from Manfred. Such seems, indeed, to have been the opinion
of Manfred himself; for he peremptorily refused, spontaneously to take
upon himself, amidst the evidently impending disasters, the responsibility
properly resting upon the acknowledged Regent, under whose government
the affairs of the kingdom had assumed so menacing an aspect. But the
negotiators were in earnest, whatever their employer might be, and
vehemently did they urge upon the prince, the duty of exerting the powers,
with which God had endowed him, to preserve the patrimony of his
helpless, orphan nephew, and to rescue an independent kingdom, his own native
country, and possible future heritage, from thraldom under an ambitious
priest. The greater, the more imminent the dangers, the more should
they fire one so gifted for the contest to the encounter; or would he, they
asked, tamely desert his brother’s child; tamely yield his own right, in
case of Conradin’s decease?—then currently
reported; Innocent having, for the chance of thus dispiriting and
disuniting the loyal, put a rumour of the kind into circulation. To
such remonstrances, Manfred, naturally nothing loth, yielded. He assumed
the regency, and zealously the vassals swore allegiance to Conradin, as
their King, obedience to Manfred, as his representative and
vicegerent during his nonage or absence; adding
a distinct recognition of the Prince’s right of
succession, should the young King die childless. Berthold’s oath pledged
him to fulfil the engagements he had proffered.
Intelligence of this change quickened Innocent’s
movements. He named the festival of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, the
15th of August, as the last day, upon which the submission of the late, or
of the present unauthorized Regent, could be accepted. The day
passed without notice on their part, and he excommunicated both,
pronounced their Sicilian and Apulian possessions forfeited, and commanded
King William, now without a rival in Germany, to confiscate whatever fiefs
or other property, might belong to either of them in that
country. Upon the 5th of September he named Cardinal Fiesco
his Lieutenant in Apulia, investing him with full powers to govern
the realm, and even to deal with church property at his discretion. He
opened a negotiation with Conte Catanzaro for the recognition of his
authority in Sicily; and he gained not a few partisans by large gifts and
larger promises of fiefs, dignities, and offices. Amongst others, he
renewed or confirmed his former grant of Manfred’s principality of Tarento
to one of the Frangipani, and of his county of Lesina, a fief of Tarento,
to Borello d’Anglone. This last grantee was a person whom Frederic II
had, for some offence, justly punished by the confiscation of
his fiefs; who, since the Emperor’s death, had insulted Manfred, by
calumnies touching his birth and character, and had not only been pardoned
by him, during his first brief regency, but had obtained from him the
restitution of some of his justly forfeited possessions, with other grants
as compensation for what he could not restore, for all which Borello
proved his gratitude, by immediately joining the hostile Papal party. The
Margrave, on the other hand, fulfilled none of his engagements. He kept
possession of the public treasure, that he had promised the Regent,
and made overtures to the Pope, for readmission into the Church.
Manfred, meanwhile, had been diligently performing his
task, and traversing the kingdom in all directions, to quell every symptom
of incipient insurrection. But Berthold’s breach of promise thwarted all his
efforts. The Germans and Saracens were the only troops upon whom he
could at all rely; the former, without pay, were, he well knew, more
formidable to friend than to foe, and Berthold withheld his funds. He
parted with his own plate, jewels, and whatever he could sell, to supply
their place; but this was a resource quickly exhausted; and, as he had
apprehended, he found himself without forces to oppose the invading army,
admitted into the kingdom, by a nobleman, of the name of Montenegro,
through a pass, the defence of which was intrusted to him:—one
main evil of the Papal claim to suzerainty, was giving a plausible colour
to treason. Thus, on all sides deserted, circumvented, betrayed,
even the energetic Manfred again saw no resource but negotiation; and he
employed his uncle Galvano Lancia,—the family
having returned upon Conrad’s death—to treat with the Pope. To Innocent,
possession upon any terms, was, as has been seen, the great object. He
agreed, in a form so explicit, to reserve Conradin’s claims for future
investigation, that Lancia was satisfied Manfred might submit, and
acknowledge the sovereignty of the Roman See, without sacrificing his
nephew’s rights or his own, or at all precluding himself from the subsequent
assertion of them. This being distinctly understood, Lancia, on the 27th
of September, in his nephew’s name, signed a treaty, by which he
acknowledged the Pope’s sovereignty; Innocent, on his part, relieving
Manfred from excommunication, binding himself to restore his principality
and counties, adding thereto the county of Andria, and to appoint
him Lieutenant of the continental portion of the kingdom, the Abruzzi
excepted, with an annual salary of 8000 ounces of gold. Manfred, when he
ratified the treaty, repeated Conrad’s expressions touching the committal
of Conradin to the Pope, as his own grandmother, the Empress-Queen,
Constance had committed his father, Frederic II, to Innocent III.
Peace being thus restored, Innocent immediately
visited Apulia. Manfred met him upon the frontier, and, according to papal
etiquette, led his palfrey from Ceperano to the
bridge over the Garigliano. That upon this progress the Cross, borne on
high before the Pope, broke from the fastenings and fell to the ground,
was deemed an evil omen. At Capua, the Pope just halted, to court
popularity by confirming the charters of divers towns,
and repealing the taxes, which his own virulence had obliged Frederic
and Conrad to impose. He there dismissed Manfred and proceeded to Naples;
where he received Margrave Berthold back into the pale of the Church,
and amply rewarded his very early submission, with not only the
ratification of all Conrad’s grants to him and his family, but additions
to them, including the adequately salaried, high office of Grand-Seneschal
of both Sicily and Apulia. From Naples he announced to Ruffo the
conditions upon which he would confirm the government of Sicily to him.
And hence he wrote to the King of England, that, great as had been the success
of his arms, he needed succours in men and money, to preserve his
recovered sovereignty, and if Henry did not exert himself to
furnish both, he must resume his gift, to be bestowed upon a more efficient
candidate. A strange commentary upon the reservation of Conradin’s right.
Seated in the Neapolitan palace of Frederic and
Conrad, with half the Apulian nobility bending in homage before him,
whilst the most adverse shrank from resistance, Innocent IV might well
feel exultation. His natural arrogance increased, as did the congenial
arrogance, and also the ambition, of his family.
His nephew, Cardinal Fiesco, had, from the moment of his entrance into the
kingdom with his army, demeaned himself as though he were to be the
tributary monarch; and now required from all the great vassals, not
excepting even the Prince of Tarento, an oath of subjection, such as was
taken to a King. Manfred remonstrated, that the postponement of the
investigation of Conradin’s birthright, required an equal postponement of
all innovation in the oath, till that question should be decided. His
representations were disregarded, and his personal treatment was consonant
to such disregard. The Cardinal encouraged his uncle’s courtiers to
withhold, from the refractory Prince, the marks of deference due to his
rank; and Manfred, even before he left Capua, found himself treated, not
as the son and possible heir of a mighty Emperor, but as one of the Pope’s
vassals, the compeer of his household officers. In all this, the Cardinal
certainly did not run counter to the Pope’s intentions, but he may have
advanced faster than Innocent judged expedient.
In such a posture of affairs, the one drop only was
wanting to overflow the cup. It was promptly supplied. Manfred, upon
receiving the renewed grant of his principality, had not disputed the Pope’s
sub-grant of Lesina to Borello; but he required the grantee to do homage
for this Tarento fief to himself, as Prince of Tarento, and therefore
his feudal superior. Borello insolently answered, that Manfred was merely
his equal, the Pope being their common Lord; and sent troops to occupy his
new county. The Prince appealed to the Pope, and
was assured, somewhat equivocally, that his Holiness had not
transferred any of the Prince’s rights to
Borello. Manfred’s friends were enraged, and would fain have inforced his disputed rights in
arms; but the motives, that had induced him to submit, still existed; and
he refused to take any violent step, unless actually
unavoidable. He resolved to consult with the Margrave, who still
professed friendship for him, and was now high in favour at the papal
court, intending, should he, indeed, find him amicably disposed, to
request his intervention. He knew that a meeting between Innocent and
Berthold was appointed at Capua, whither the triumphant pontiff was
returning; and, with a small escort, set forth to intercept and converse
with the Margrave, then stationed at a considerable distance beyond that
city, on his way thither.
The road led through a narrow pass, which, when first
seen by the Prince’s party appeared to be occupied;
and those sent forward to ascertain the character of the occupants,
reported them to be Borello and his men. Upon Manfred’s betraying some
irritation at this show of hostility, one of his company,
a friendly nephew of the Pope’s, named Tizio, earnestly dissuaded any act
of violence, which must needs injure him with the Holy Father. But
even whilst he was speaking, a part of the escort had
galloped forward, and Borello, whose courage kept not pace with his
insolence, apprehending their intentions to be warlike, instantly fled.
Whatever might have been the original purpose of this volunteer forlorn
hope, so suddenly did an affray, produced, seemingly, by his flight,
ensue, that a dart overtook the fugitive, slightly wounding him in
the back; and before Manfred and Tizio could interfere to stay the
tumult, a few of Borello’s people were prisoners; the rest, like their
Lord, had fled. The captives petitioned for their liberty and their
horses, which were esteemed the lawful booty of the captors. The Prince, thinking, perhaps, thus to lessen the mischief caused by the indiscreet zeal of his escort, granted the
petition, dismissing them with the words: “Go, warn your Lord to
desist from his iniquitous folly, and, out of respect for my Lord the
Pope, I will take no further notice of it.”
The message never reached Borello’s ears. He had
sought refuge at Teano, where, whether from his vain boasting, whether
disseminated by him with some ulterior, fraudulent design, or by
unaccountable accident, a rumour got into circulation that he had slain
Manfred. Teano was ardently loyal to King and Regent; and the
population, rising in a body, tore the supposed assassin to
pieces. When intelligence of a catastrophe, seemingly so ruinous to
all the Prince’s hopes, reached the travellers,
Tizio hastily left his friend, trusting to forestall misrepresentation, by
being the first to announce, and truthfully relate, the disaster, to the
Pope. Manfred prosecuted his journey and original purpose.
His direct way was by Capua, which, as Innocent, he
knew, had not yet arrived there, he thought, rashly perhaps, that he might
venture to traverse. The approaching armed party, when seen from the
walls, was supposed to be the Pope’s; and the Cardinals there
awaiting their sovereign, hastened forth from the city to receive
him. A report of Borello’s death had already reached them, and upon
recognising the Prince of Tarento, they turned aside to deliberate,
whether they should not profit by the presence of a respectable body of Papal
troops, to take him prisoner. Manfred mistrusted their intentions; but
he had no alternative; there was as yet no open
rupture; to betray consciousness of having offended, by turning back,
would have been to invite destruction; and he rode steadily forward.
Presently, suspicion became apparent certainty; the city gates opened,
and, in a mingled mass, equestrians and pedestrians poured forth. Manfred
looked for an overpowering onset, but calmly advanced, prepared to
defend himself to the last extremity; when his alarm was agreeably
dissipated by the sound of music and joyous acclamations. It was the
population of Capua, eagerly hurrying to make proof of new-born loyalty,
by their reception of the son, brother, and uncle of their
Kings, their actual Governor under the Pope.
Thus supported, the Prince rode up to the Cardinals, to offer the courteous salutation of a passing
traveller, and impart the object of his journey; to wit, a visit
to the Margrave of Hohenberg. He was as courteously answered, but
with a coldness, indicating that the Princes of the Church meditated using
their momentary superiority of force, to his injury. He left them, intending
to ride swiftly through Capua, and interpose the greatest possible
distance betwixt his little band and the hostile troops; but the same
display of loyal attachment that had protected him, interfered with this
prudent design. The Capuans, desirous, probably,
to obliterate the recollection of their former rebellion against Conrad,
and unsuspicious of danger to a Prince reconciled to the Pope, and for
him Governor of Apulia, were bent upon doing him honour; and, in case
of a renewal of hostilities with the Pope, which Manfred must now have
anticipated, their attachment was too important, to risk chilling, by
apparently avoiding it. With cheerful acceptance, therefore, he
met their unseasonable demonstrations. He restrained his horse’s pace
to that of the pedestrian multitude, escorting him with shouts and songs,
to his own Capuan mansion; and there he remained, gaily exchanging
expressions of goodwill, till he felt that the citizens were satisfied with
his cordiality. Then, pleading public business, to the success of which a
moment’s further delay might be fatal, and thanking them for their loyalty
to his nephew and goodwill to himself, he rode off.
Gladly he found himself without the city walls, but
not yet was the danger past. The Cardinals, after wasting in deliberation
the time during which the Prince was within their
reach, finally ordered out troops to pursue and take him prisoner. He had
not advanced many miles when he was informed that his baggage was seized
and a body of horse in pursuit of him. He sent back a score of his men, by
skirmishing to delay the pursuers, and steadily, though rapidly,
proceeded. Presently, one of the small detachment overtook him, exclaiming: “We are all prisoners!”. Unruffled, Manfred
replied: “Not all since thou art free”, and soon afterwards drew his rein
at the foot of a narrow bridge, to regulate and superintend the passage,
lest impatience to get over, should produce obstruction and delay. He was
the last man who crossed. Thus, ere his pursuers had found an opportunity
of attacking him at disadvantage or made up their minds to engage hand to hand
in a fair field, he had entered Acerra. Acerra was a strong
town, belonging to a friendly brother-in-law. Here,
therefore, despite the vicinity of Capua and Naples, he was for
the moment safe. The Papal cavalry turned back disappointed.
Berthold, who about the same time reached Arienzo, a neighbouring town, expressed his full
approbation of the Prince’s conduct, and his
satisfaction at the fate that Borello’s insolence had brought upon him. He
declined an interview with Manfred lest any appearance of friendly
intercourse betwixt them should impair his own favour at the Papal Court, and thus lessen his power of serving him in so
ticklish an affair; but promised cordially to support any negotiators
Manfred might send to vindicate his conduct to Innocent.
These negotiators were, again his uncle Galvano
Lancia, and another of his many brothers-in-law, Filangieri, who hastened
to Capua, where the Pope had now arrived. But far from finding the
promised assistant in the Margrave, they were led to suspect that the
advice he pressed upon the Holy Father was, not to miss such an
opportunity, as this affray and Borello’s violent death offered, of
freeing the country from the sole instigator of all disturbance,
by making Manfred a prisoner, if he presented himself, or banishing
him, if he failed to appear. The course, which the business took, was
calculated to corroborate such suspicions. Innocent, influenced, perhaps, by
Tizio’s representations, had at first treated the whole affair
lightly, saying, if the Prince were not
altogether blameless, there was much to palliate his offence. But, when
Manfred’s envoys, admitted to an audience, narrated the
transaction as it had occurred, and announced the Prince’s willingness to
attend for its full investigation, provided he received a written, or even
a verbal assurance, that his person should be safe, and the investigation
conducted according to legal form, the Pope coldly replied that
the Prince of Tarento should have justice: refused the requested
assurance, and, finally, required Manfred to appear and plead, not before
himself, but before any persons whom he should appoint to conduct the
inquiry; naming Aversa, as the theatre of this judicial inquiry.
Lancia was incensed at the indignity offered to his
princely nephew, in the very suggestion that he should plead before papal
officers; but he was likewise alarmed. This insulting demand, combined
with the refusal of a safe conduct, with various indications of a hostile
disposition, and the evident favour enjoyed by Borello’s
connexions, convinced both him and Filangieri, that evil designs were
maturing. In person, therefore, the younger of Manfred’s two deputed
kinsmen bore the papal mandate to Acerra, in order to impress, upon the
mind of his brother-in-law, their joint conviction of his danger, of
the necessity for instant removal beyond Innocent’s reach, and the
utmost caution in his movements; since they were assured that a strict
watch was kept upon him. Filangieri added that, the more effectually to
lull suspicion, Lancia would remain at Capua, where he would insure his own safety, by professing himself a convert
to the papal party, in resentment of being recklessly exposed to
danger by his nephew’s flight.
To no light step was Manfred thus urged by his
kinsmen. He saw, that the mere refusal, to vindicate himself in the manner
prescribed, was a virtual disclaimer of the Pope’s authority; but he
likewise saw, that not only was the present, probably, the last moment at
which it would be in his power to assert his nephew’s right to the
crown, but, that his own liberty, if not his life, might be
forfeited, if he shrank from the risk. He was, moreover, confident
of finding determined enemies to Papal sovereignty, in the priestly
Apulian Saracens. Thus environed by perils,
he promptly decided upon choosing that, which offered a chance of
triumph, and, even in case of failure, insured a glorious, instead of an
ignominious end.
Manfred’s first object was, therefore, to surround
himself with Saracens; and the first step towards such a position, was to avert
suspicion, by apparent, implicit submission. To effect this, he sent part of
his household to Aversa, to make all preparation for his sojourn there,
whilst he secretly despatched a letter to the Commandant of Luceria,
to inquire whether, in that Saracen stronghold, he might rely upon
protection and support. This Commandant was the already mentioned Giovanni il
Moro, the lowest of those humbly born, whom, for
distinguished abilities of various kinds, Frederic II had raised to
official importance. He was the illegitimate and deformed, but highly
talented, offspring, of a Negro slave girl. Both Manfred and Conrad, like
their father, had employed him, the late King making him Commandant of
Luceria, where he had latterly assumed almost independent
authority. Il Moro answered Manfred’s inquiries by professions
of unbounded devotion to his benefactor’s son; and within the walls
of Luceria, at whatever hazard, Manfred determined to shelter himself, and proclaim Conradin.
That hazard was not small, for the road from Acerra
thither, if passing near some possessions of his own and of his partisans,
traversed the very heart of those of the Hohenbergs, whom he now believed
to be his enemies. But, two brothers of the ever loyal Capece family, who, from their estates lying
in that district, had, amidst the pleasures of the chase, become
intimately acquainted with its topography, undertook to pilot him safely,
through all. the dangers of this part of his journey. Under
their guidance, Manfred, mounting with very few attendants, left
Acerra at midnight; and, so romantically perilous
was this decisive step, that, like the important results of the somewhat
minute, but thronging occurrences of the single month, that had elapsed
since the Pope’s entrance into Apulia, it may be presumed to excuse an,
otherwise disproportionate, circumstantiality of detail.
At first, trusting to the protection of darkness, the
little party ventured to keep the high road, even taking their way along
the one narrow street of the small Hohenberg town of Manliano.
Their horses’ hoofs disturbing the nocturnal repose, they heard the awakened
inhabitants, asking each other from their windows, what these belated
travellers could be, and whether, notwithstanding the professed peace, they
ought not to arrest them, as, perhaps, the Margrave’s enemies. But, whilst
they, like the Cardinals at Capua, were deliberating, their proposed captives
had left Manliano far behind. They were
already approaching Monforte, a castle bestowed by Conrad
upon Berthold’s brother, Margrave Lewis. The Capece deemed the
garrison adversaries not to be encountered, and, shunning their vicinity,
turned aside into the recesses of the Apennines. The fugitives now
traversed the mountains, by ascents and descents so abruptly steep,
that every man, dismounting, carefully led his horse, along paths,
sometimes following or crossing the sharp ridge, and sometimes clinging,
half-way up, to the precipitous side of the ravine, so narrow as barely to
afford foothold, whilst on the one hand, a wall of rock towered above,
on the other, the abyss yawned below. The moonbeams, as they fitfully
broke through the clouds, seemed rather to enhance the terrors of the
difficulties they revealed, than to show how they might be avoided or
overcome. The sounds were appalling, as the sights. The roar of
the waterfalls, the howling of the wind, pent in the gorges of the
mountain, and the cries of the birds of prey, startled from sleep by this
unwonted intrusion into their scarcely disputed domains, bewildered the
travellers.
But these were risks which the Capece, from their own
experience, averred superable by care and courage, and Manfred followed
them with confidence. They found themselves in jeopardy of a different,
and more alarming description when, at daybreak, they reached a
second Hohenberg fortress, Mercogliano, which, for some unexplained
reason, it was judged advisable to ride through. To the question, “Who
were they?” put to them at the gate, they boldly answered: “Margrave
Berthold’s men, riding upon his business.” The statement was
doubted, the gate remained shut, and the constituted authorities
of Mercogliano, in their turn deliberated whether the party should
not be detained, until the truth or falsehood of their account of
themselves was ascertained. But to them the hesitation had been ample
warning; and the Capece led the way, by a path hardly practicable, along
the side of the ditch, and so round the town. Here, however, man and
horse had light, to see and surmount these difficulties; and again Manfred was far advanced on his road, before the
deliberators had come to any determination. Again the
adventurous band took to the mountains to avoid Avellino, another Hohenberg
fortress; but, under the cheerful rays of the sun, that displayed, with
the obstacles half blocking the mountain paths,
the means of extrication, they rode gaily through defiles and perils, such
as had depressed them amidst night and darkness. Wearied and exhausted
but delighted to have achieved thus much of their arduous enterprise, they
by noon reached Atripalde, a Capece castle, then
jointly tenanted by the families of the two brothers.
Joyfully the noble ladies welcomed their lords and
their princely guest, and would fain have detained
them. But Atripalde lay too near the Hohenberg
domains, and, after a few hours of needful rest and refreshment, the
adventurous journey was resumed. Not till he reached Nusco, a
fortress belonging to the Conte di Acerra, did Manfred feel any security
from pursuit. At Nusco, therefore, he slept the
second night of his perilous expedition and made inquiry into the
inclinations of the neighbourhood. They proved far from uniform. Some
places professed willingness to rise, at Manfred’s call, in arms for
Conradin; but Melfi, the most powerful of these towns, refused to break the
oath of allegiance, sworn to the Pope ; and at Guardia, a town
of Manfred’s own, his messengers were informed by the inhabitants, that
Cardinal Fiesco threatened to visit them with the Papal army on the
morrow, if they did not that very day declare for the sole sovereignty of
the Church; and they avowed that, though heartily loyal to their Prince,
they were unable to resist, unless he were in force to protect them.
Manfred saw that, when in arms, the vicinity of Nusco might afford him reinforcements, but was not the place in which to set up
his nephew’s standard; and he prosecuted his journey.
The direct road to Luceria was now by Ascoli, and
Manfred sent to explore the temper and condition of this town. The report
brought him was that—so devoted was Ascoli to the Papal cause—upon hearing
of his flight from a Papal summons, the population had tumultuously
risen and slain their Governor, a loyal vassal of Conradin’s. The Prince’s emissaries were accompanied, at their
return, by a nephew of the murdered Governor, who proposed surprising
the town amidst the disorder, consequent upon the crime just perpetrated
there. The proposal was approved; and the eager young man preceded the little
troop now materially increased in numbers, to ascertain
the possibility of reaching the gates undiscovered. But he quickly
came back with the mortifying intelligence, that a third Hohenberg,
Margrave Otho, had, during this brief interval, appeared with 500 horse at Corneto, near
Ascoli, whither he was invited by the mutineers. Manfred could not
dream of encountering such a force, and instead of surprising Ascoli, was
again obliged to consult his safety by quitting the direct road to Luceria, and throwing himself into the mountains.
At Lavello and Venosa, he
was received as rightful mesne lord and Prince, but, at the latter place, was
met by two very annoying pieces of information. The one, that Melfi
having invited or commanded this town to join a confederation in support
of the Pope, Venosa, being utterly unable to cope with its potent inviter,
had perforce complied, with reservation of the Prince of Tarento’s rights;
a condition testifying the faithful attachment of the citizens, but
insufficient to render it a safe resting place for Manfred. The other,
that il Moro was gone to Capua, as he gave out, to promote Manfred's
interests, but, as was suspected, to ask Luceria and its dependencies
for himself as a fief of the Church; and had required from Marchisio,
whom he had named Lieutenant-Governor during his absence, an oath not to
receive any one, not even the Prince-Regent in
person, into the town, whilst he held the command. This was embarrassing,
since, in the position in which he found himself, to win Luceria by
the sword was out of the question; whilst only if supported by the
Saracens, durst he hope to break the Papal
yoke. Pausing, he sent forward confidential attendants, to sound the
inhabitants of the town, and ascertain their sentiments touching the respective
sovereignties of Conradin or Innocent. His messengers brought back urgent
entreaties that the Prince-Regent would hasten to
Luceria, where the faithful Saracens would spare neither blood nor purse,
in the cause of their late gracious and beloved Emperor’s son
and grandson.
Manfred felt no hesitation as to complying with this
call, but much as to the mode of so doing. The question was, should he
seek to insure his safe passage between the now
papal Ascoli and Foggia, where Margrave Otho was stationed, by numbers, or
by eluding observation? All his friends strenuously advised the first
course; but how, without ruinous delay, could a troop adequate to cope
with Otho’s in the field, be collected? Manfred saw that this was one
of the occasions where seeming temerity is real prudence. He adopted the
second plan, but kept his resolution to himself.
With the utmost care and secrecy he prepared for this, the most hazardous part of his adventurous
attempt. Guarding alike against indiscretion and treachery,
he concealed his design from his most trusted friends, with the
exception of three, whom he had selected as his companions; and to do
this the more effectually, he issued orders for a movement, in an opposite
direction, next morning. He spent the remainder of the day in
business, and towards evening of the 1st of November, mounted
with the chosen three, as if for a short ride. But scarcely had they
passed the town gates, when they were overtaken by a small band of his
followers, who would not permit their Prince to venture outside of the
walls unescorted. Their officious zeal baffled the one or the other of
Manfred’s precautions; if he took them with him, his
augmented numbers might attract the notice he shunned; if he
sent them back, he must tell them why, and thus
risk the premature disclosure of his project. This he judged to be the
greater evil of the two; and he accepted their escort, trusting to his
proposed avoidance of public roads for escaping observation.
As one of his three companions, he had taken Adenolfo Pardo, the Head of his father’s hunting
establishment in these parts. Adenolfo, familiarly acquainted with
the mountains, amidst whose ravines and recesses he had so often
followed the Imperial hawks and hounds, had boldly undertaken to conduct
him to Luceria by mountain tracks where no enemy was to be feared. And as long as the faintest twilight enabled him to discern
the accustomed landmarks, he led the way steadily and securely
through difficulties similar to those which
Manfred had surmounted under the guidance of the Capeci. But night closed
in, the clouds gathered, and presently the rain poured down with the
violence of southern storms. The mountain brooks, swelling to torrents,
obstructed or actually washed away their precipitous
paths, and the obscurity became so intense, that, only by incessant
shouting to each other, could the entire dispersion of the little company
be averted. Adenolfo himself was now bewildered, and
they rode on, in utter uncertainty of their direction, upon the
correctness of which everything depended. At length a flash of lightning
revealed the distant glimmer of something white; pronounced by Adenolfo to be one of the late Emperor’s hunting
lodges. But which? Several were scattered through the district, and
one lay near to Foggia. At all risks Adenolfo rode up, when it proved to be that situated in the direction of St.
Agapito, and occupied by a loyal old forester. They had strayed but little
from their proper course, and gladly the drenched and weary party sought
momentary shelter under a friendly roof.
Long before dawn, however, they remounted, and, when
near Luceria, Manfred dismissed his unintended escort, bidding them repair
to Bibiano, a town of his own not far distant, whence, if successful, he
would presently summon them, where, if unsuccessful, he would join them.
Then, with his three, originally selected companions, he rode up to
the gate of Luceria, which he reached about daybreak. The gate being of
course shut, the Prince of Tarento announced himself, and demanded
admittance.
The Saracens, probably, expected him to appear at the
head of an army, and the guard at the gate could, at first, hardly be
persuaded that an individual, presenting himself in such humble guise, was
really the son of the Emperor, twice the Regent,
and now the deputed Governor, of the kingdom. But, when Manfred was
recognised by warriors who had fought under his banner, they welcomed
him with joyous shouts, and were about sending to Marchisio for the
keys, that they might admit him. Their eagerness was checked by a more
thoughtful veteran, who observed: “Marchisio having sworn not to admit anyone,
will not give the keys; the Prince must be in
Luceria, before Marchisio knows of his coming; he must be
introduced without keys, and, once amongst us, all difficulty is over.55 This
last assertion none disputed; but how was the Prince to come amongst them
if the gates were not opened. The prudent as faithful greybeard, pointed
to the mouth of a drain immediately without the wall, and implored
his Prince, with so great an object as breaking the yoke of an usurping, tyrannical priest, in view, not to shrink
from the seeming indignity of passing through the drain, since
what really mattered was, that he should be in Luceria, not how he
should enter.
Manfred would not be baffled in an important
enterprise, by any superable obstacle, however momentarily revolting the means
of surmounting it to his pride or his delicacy. He alighted and approached
the designated spot. But the loyal zeal of the Saracens, whose
numbers were every instant increasing, as the news of his
presence spread through the town, blazed out at the sight. With one
accord they cried, “Never may we suffer our Prince thus to debase himself!
Break down the gate, and bring him in, as beseems our Emperor’s son!” So
said, so done. The soldiers, of whom a considerable body had now
assembled, burst the gate open, rushed out, and lifting Manfred on to
their shoulders, bore him thus triumphantly into the town. Thus triumphantly,
they paraded him through the streets, whilst men, women, and
children thronged around, to see, touch, and greet him, till he was well-nigh
smothered with pure love.
The uproar had by this time awakened Marchisio, and
although confounded at the report of Manfred’s actual presence in Luceria,
whilst the keys of the well-secured gates were safe in his custody, he
armed, mounted, and sallied forth to meet and expel the intruder. But
quickly did he find himself, on the contrary, coerced into
affecting sentiments, in unison with those on all sides so clamourously and so unanimously proclaimed. The tumultuous
crowd encircling Manfred loudly commanded him to alight,
and kneel in homage to their beloved Prince-Regent; and Marchisio,
helpless in their hands, promptly obeyed.
Manfred was now installed in the Imperial Palace, from
a window of which he forthwith addressed the people. He related Borello’s
rebellious insolence and accidental end; he told of the Pope’s usurping
pretensions; and announced his own determination to maintain the
indisputable hereditary right of his nephew, as also his own,
together with the rights and liberties of the kingdom. And unanimously the Lucerians swore to be true to him, against the
whole world.
By the time he felt himself in secure possession of a
strong, well-garrisoned fortress, he was informed that Margrave Otho, at
the head of a body of troops, was before one of the gates, demanding
possession of the town, as Governor for the Pope, whose sovereignty he
called upon the inhabitants to acknowledge. That he was authorized by Il Moro
to claim Marchisio’s compliance, is not stated, but seems likely, as he
was only attended by a troop, so utterly inadequate to compelling Luceria to obedience,
that he shrank even from the battle, eagerly offered him without the
walls by the Saracens; evading the challenge by a retreat, so precipitate
as to resemble flight.
At Luceria, Manfred found, besides a numerous body of
warriors, attached as brave, military stores of all kinds, and a
well-filled treasury; the known strength of the place, and the approved
fidelity of the Saracen garrison and inhabitants having rendered it a
favourite repository of the Sovereign’s valuables, money included.
Frederic II and Conrad, as well as Il Moro, had there secured
their exchequers. He was now, therefore, in a condition to offer the
German legion pay, and generally to raise mercenary troops, in addition to
those, whom a pure spirit of loyalty, or of patriotism, might bring to the
standard of their hereditary King. His reputation for daring heroism
had rendered him so favourite a leader with all martial
spirits, —though such favour, as he had painfully learned, was
no substitute for pay—that, as soon as he was known to have full
coffers, his ranks were thronged. Many Germans, even from the legion then
constituting, under the Hohenberg brothers, the strength of the Papal army, as
well as others who were preying as marauders,
upon all parties, hastened to engage in his service.
Cardinal Fiesco’s want of military talent left the
Prince of Tarento leisure thus to prepare for the impending conflict; and
Berthold, in his anxiety to keep well with both sides, so that, whoever
carried the day his immense estates might be secure, actually
facilitated these preparations. Repairing to Foggia, there, as he
thought, to join his brother, he found, not Otho resolutely defending
it—for he, continuing his retreat, had evacuated the town—but, the magistrates busied in assessing and levying
the contributions, required by Manfred. The Margrave, betraying neither
disappointment nor surprise, as though this state of
affairs had been precisely what he expected, officiously assisted
in completing the operation, and sent the Prince of Tarento a friendly
proffer of his services, as mediator in negotiating his reconciliation
with the Pope. To Manfred a negotiation could not but be profitable,
since, if it failed to produce the object of his desires, i. e.9 the recognition of
Conradin as King of the Sicilies by Innocent, it must at least afford
himself, more time for gathering strength, and he thankfully accepted the
proffer. This delay was the only advantage he derived from it.
The Cardinal had, like him, been occupied in
recruiting his force; the means he employed being the preaching of a
crusade against Manfred, with all crusading indulgences to those who
should engage in this misnamed holy war. The measure was, as usual,
temporarily successful; and, in the pride of conscious superiority, he now
advanced to Troja; whence he ordered Margrave Otho again to occupy
and fortify Foggia. He thought thus to shut up Manfred in Luceria;
but the opportunity for so doing, if it ever existed, was past. The Prince, on the other hand, resolved to engage his enemies
separately, and to begin with the weakest by attacking Foggia, before Otho
could have made much progress in the task of fortification
enjoined him.
Upon the 2nd of December, Otho, unsuspicious of the
immediate vicinity of an enemy, led a considerable body of his men out of
the town, fell into an ambuscade, and, thus
surprised, was quickly overpowered and routed. His troops fled in all
directions, he himself taking the road to Canosa. Scarcely had some of the
fugitives brought the news of their disaster to Foggia, when their
pursuers were already storming the unfinished works, on one side, and
a detachment, previously sent round by Manfred for the purpose, doing
the same on the other. Confusion prevented even a thought of resistance; the
town was taken, and such of the garrison, as did not, with the priests,
seek a refuge in the castle, were made prisoners. As Manfred had no
intention, whilst anticipating a decisive action with the Cardinal, still
far superior to himself in numbers, of weakening his own army by putting a
garrison into Foggia, he did not attempt the castle; but content to have
attained his end, in dispersing one division of the enemy,
returned to Luceria in the evening.
But the victory over Otho, which Manfred had
considered as merely preliminary to his great battle with the Cardinal proved,
very unexpectedly, to be itself the decisive action. When known at Troja,
every bosom was filled with dismay. Fiesco immediately issued orders for a
nocturnal retreat; obeyed as, by half disciplined troops, like his
panic-stricken crusaders, such orders commonly are. Whoever could procure
a horse, saddled or unsaddled, galloped off. Of those who marched out of
the town with some appearance of military form, many threw away both
arms and baggage upon the road, by thus lightening themselves to expedite
their arrival at some place of shelter; and, long
before the leaders and the more soldierly portion of the Papal army
reached their first appointed halt, the bulk of the forces had
disappeared.
At Luceria, next morning, Manfred was preparing to
march forth, for the purpose of risking a decisive battle with his
supposed formidable antagonist, when a deputation from Troja solicited an
audience. Their welcome tidings were, of that antagonist’s retreat: of the
town’s instant declaration, in favour of Conradin as King,
and himself as Regent; and, further, of the town’s example having
been promptly followed by the Papal Commandant and garrison of the castle.
The garrison of the castle of Foggia fled upon hearing what had occurred
at Troja, and thus, in one day, both towns were Manfred’s.
These reverses fell like a thunderbolt upon Innocent,
even as he was exulting in the full success of all his projects: and he lacked
the firm nerve to support them, perhaps because he lacked the honesty, of
that one amongst his predecessors, whom in his hard, aggressive
ambition, he most resembled, Gregory VII. A violent illness ensued, which
shortly proved fatal; and the few sayings, recorded of his deathbed, mark
this difference between him and that predecessor, who died boldly asserting
the rectitude both of his motives and of his conduct. Innocent IV, on
the contrary, betrayed a consciousness of guilt in some measure resembling
remorse, saying with heavy sighs: “Lord God, for mine unrighteousness
hast thou thus smitten me!” And, in a less Christian mood, he is
reported to have thus rebuked, the noisy lamentations of his
kindred: “What are ye clamouring for, wretches that you are? Do I not
leave you all rich?” He expired at Naples, on the 13th of December 1254,
the fourth anniversary, it was observed, of the Emperor Frederic’s
death, and in the palace of Pietro delle Vigne; one of his victims,
assuredly, in whatever way, whether by corrupting or by calumniating him,
he wrought his destruction.
Innocent IV’s patronage of, and proficiency in,
learning have been already noticed, and it may suffice
here to observe, that, from his Work, Commentaries upon the Decretals, he
was entitled Monarch of Law, Lord of Canonists, a light of spiritual law,
and a father and instrument of truth. But, from the rapacity generated by
schemes originating in inordinate ambition, he tyrannized over
the impoverished clergy, and carried every abuse connected with the
popedom—many of which he first devised— well-nigh to their culminating
point. He is even accused of proposing to an English monastery, to divide
the income of a living in the gift of the Abbot, leaving the flock pastorless. In short, notwithstanding his indisputably
great abilities, such was his maladministration of the pontificate, that
he alienated half Germany, and even the Franciscan Salimbeni quotes, as
just, the following epigram, untranslatable as a play upon words:
Curia Romana non curat ovem sine lana ;
Mus fit elephas, fasque nefas, de Simeone Cephas.
One truly pontifical act of this,
generally speaking, very unapostolic Pope is, however, recorded, and
must not be omitted. The conquered Prussians appealed to him, A.D. 1249,
against the oppressive tyranny of the Marian Knights, who enslaved their
proselytes; and with the weapons of the Church he
compelled the Order to assure to every genuine convert, personal liberty
and possession of bis property.
The Cardinals, stunned by such an accumulation of
calamities, would fain have abandoned all schemes of conquest, and fled to
Rome. But Innocent’s Podesta of Naples, Tavernario,
was of a bolder spirit; he closed the gates of the city, thus compelling
them to form a Conclave; and there detained them, in a sort of honourable
captivity, till, on Christmas day, they gave the Church a new
Head. Their choice fell upon Cardinal Rinaldo, of the Segni family;
a nephew of Gregory IX, who took the name of Alexander IV. He is generally
represented as a very learned Theologian, of cheerful temper and
pleasing manners, but avaricious, and easily swayed by
flatterers. Alexander IV, upon assuming his high, as holy
office, announced his intention of carrying out all his
predecessor’s schemes; whilst, in his conduct, he discovered all
the unscrupulous ambition of Innocent IV, although neither his great
talents nor his inflexible resolution.
Whilst the election was pending, Giovanni il Moro
reaped the due reward of his disloyalty. Casually meeting some of his
former troops at Acerenza, he was instantly slain
by the indignant Saracens, who set his head up, over one of the town
gates, as a warning to traitors. By his death, the strong castles and
ample domains, granted him by the late Emperor and his son Conrad, and
garrisoned by Saracens, fell into Manfred’s hands. And now, city after
city was taken, by the hourly increasing royal army, or spontaneously
proclaimed Conradin King, Manfred Regent. Promptly was the Prince of
Tarento master of the central provinces; and, to complete his satisfaction,
he was joined by his uncle Galvano Lancia, who, though his
dissimulation had saved him from ill usage, had been too much
distrusted to be able to effect his escape from
the Papal court, until the rejoicings upon Alexander’s election afforded
the opportunity.
Manfred now received overtures from the Cardinals,
more pacifically disposed than their last, or, seemingly, than their
present, Head. They sent him, by two of his brothers-in-law, Acerra and
Filangieri, a vague message, implying their wish, that he would offer the new
Pope congratulations upon his election, which might open the way for
negotiation. Manfred, confident in his altered position, replied, that the
only point, requiring negotiation, was the amount of the annual tribute to
the Roman See, his nephew’s right to the crown and his own to the
regency, being unquestionable. This answer was deemed throwing down
the gauntlet, and, upon the 2d of February, 1255, Alexander formally summoned the Prince of Tarento before his
tribunal, to vindicate himself touching the murder of Borello d’Anglone,
and his subsequent revolt. Manfred, at first, refused to vindicate himself
in any way, save writing; but, after some hesitation, deputed Gervasio di
Martino and Goffredo di Cosenza to plead, or treat, as should
seem opportune, in his name. He refused to suspend hostilities during
this inquiry into his conduct; but, whilst, in compliance with the Pope’s
request, he evacuated the Terra di Lavoro, occupied
himself with reducing the more remote provinces to obedience.
During all these transactions, Ruffo, now Conte di
Catanzaro, had kept aloof from both parties, whilst negotiating with both.
Innocent had offered him the government of Sicily, under the Church; but
upon terms which he would not accept, though neither would he positively
reject them. Manfred, upon setting up his standard at Luceria,
had announced the fact to him, as Marshal of Sicily, upon whom he
called to arm for Conradin; and this Ruffo professed eagerness to do. But, to
unprincipled ambition, the crisis was seductively promising: he caballed
with the towns that aspired to republican independence under
the nominal sovereignty of the Pope; and represented their rebellious
propensities to Manfred, as necessitating his presence, and that of his
troops, in the island; and he secretly solicited of Innocent the insular
kingdom, in vassalage, whilst publicly acknowledging as King,
the distant boy Conradin, who could exercise no present control over
him, even through a Regent, fully occupied in
Apulia.
At the moment of Innocent’s death, the Conte di Catanzaro seemed to
have a chance of success; but his various complicated intrigues
counteracted each other.
The encouragement he had given, to the aspirations of
the cities, had excited them beyond all restraining prudence. Palermo
declared herself a republic, under Papal suzerainty; other wealthy towns
followed the tempting example; and Ruffo trembled for his own authority,
when he learned that, even at Messina, so long invincibly loyal, an
insurrection was in course of organization. He flew thither, invited those
designated as the ringleaders to either a banquet or a conference, treacherously
imprisoned them, and flattered himself that he was the master.
But the whole city rose upon him, forcibly released his
captives, proclaimed itself a republic, and, as a great favour, permitted
him to leave the island in company with the royal Governor of Messina,
whom they further allowed to carry his family and his personal property
away with him. Sicily was now a nest of unconnected republics; but,
ere long, Palermo and Messina subjected their feebler neighbours to
themselves. Alexander sent a Minorite, Ruffino da Piacenza, thither, as
Papal Vicar, who for the next two years exercised some influence rather
than authority over them.
The Marshal, thus expelled from his government, passed
over to Calabria, and, as though failure had but stimulated his ambition,
strove, still professing loyalty, to raise the province against both Pope
and Regent. He occupied every place of which he could possess himself, in
the name of Conradin; but turned out Manfred’s officers, owning no
superior except the infant King. Then, finding the enterprise beyond his
strength, he made overtures to the Pope, for holding his acquisitions
under him. Manfred now felt the danger serious; and, suspending the
operations in which he was engaged against Brindisi and Oria, detached two
of his German officers, brothers, named Conrad and Bernhard Truich, with
a body of troops, against Ruffo. Supported by the attachment of the
Calabrians to both King and Regent, they thoroughly baffled and defeated
the rebel, driving him to seek safety in flight. He got on board a small
vessel, repaired to Naples, and sheltered himself in the Papal Court.
But not yet was Calabria secured. The Messinese, proud of their triumph over Marshal, Governor,
and neighbours, as of their new independence, indulged the ambition
and arrogance ordinarily characterizing republics; they attempted that, in
which their banished Marshal had failed, to wit, the conquest of the
province facing them. Calabria, however, proved more loyal than they had
imagined. The victorious brothers Truich routed and
expelled the republican invaders; and, with the single exception of
Reggio, Calabria now acknowledged Conradin and Manfred.
The new Pope, meanwhile, was far from supine. The
negotiation with Manfred’s deputies made no progress, but that with the
Hohenberg brothers, all the more; and he secured
them as his partisans, by not only ratifying, but extravagantly adding to,
the immense grants they had obtained from Conrad, and extorted from
Innocent IV. He was, nevertheless, alarmed by Manfred’s success, into abandoning
the scheme of incorporating the Sicilies with the Estates of the Church;
and sent envoys to Bavaria, with offers to the mother and uncles of the
little heir, of conferring the Sicilian crown upon him, when of due age, provided
the boy were at once committed to his sole care, and sent to his court for
education. This proposal seems, but too certainly, to have been a mere
device for getting possession of the royal orphan, as an instrument to
be used against Manfred; since, simultaneously with making this
offer, Alexander revived the negotiation with Henry III, for conferring
upon an English Prince that very orphan’s heritage. Manfred, probably to
counteract these various machinations, now requested his sister-in-law to
send or bring him the young King, in order to stimulate the loyalty of his vassals, by the presence of the
monarch, in whose cause they were required to
shed their blood. He pledged himself, if she would trust him with the
boy, to be a father to him; and likewise, whether she complied or
refused, to strain every nerve for the maintenance of his nephew’s
birthright. He at the same time desired to have an ambassador, from the
Queen-mother and the Dukes of Bavaria, resident with him, and
recommended for the office their kinsman, Margrave Berthold, whom
he hoped thus to gain over from the papal to the royalist side.
Some Guelph writers have asserted, that Elizabeth and
her brothers always suspected Manfred (of whom they knew little, save that
he was the next heir, and had once been an object of jealousy and distrust
to Conrad), of designing to usurp his nephew’s crown. But, however they might doubt his truth, the discovery of the
Popes double-dealing, which accidentally or intentionally
was revealed to them, convinced them that, to appear, at least, as
placing confidence in the uncle, was the only chance of the nephew’s
preserving his patrimony. Therefore, though the mother refused to risk her
child amidst the convulsions of civil war, they sent the Prince of
Tarento an instrument, dated April 20th, 1255, drawn up in the name of
Conradin, and signed by, or more likely for, the three-year-old boy,
appointing him Regent of the kingdom during the minority of the King, and
guardian of the royal person, when in the Sicilies; investing him with
the fullest powers of royalty, and ratifying everything he had done,
or should hereafter do.
The Pope’s negotiations prospered better in England,
than in Bavaria. Henry III again accepted for his son the vassal kingdom
of Sicily, upon conditions, of which, as they never took effect, only one
need cumber these pages; this one was, that an English army, duly
equipped and provided, was to be in the kingdom before Michaelmas, 1256,
under pain of excommunication. This treaty enabled Alexander to obtain the
pecuniary supplies, of which he was so sensibly in want. He renewed
Innocent’s command to the clergy to mortgage church lands, if
they could not otherwise raise the sums required of them for Prince
Edmund’s enterprise, under pain of being summoned to Rome, to answer for their
delinquency; and in England these commands, backed by the royal
authority, produced a considerable sum. Elsewhere they did not prove
as invariably successful as the Pope had expected. Hakon Hakonson, King of
Norway, who had previously declined Innocent IV’s offer of the Imperial
crown, when asked to inforce the demand, quietly
observed, that he was bound to fight only the enemies of the Church, not
all whom the Pope might have provoked. But, upon the security of the
King of England, Alexander could, and did, borrow largely in Italy; and, whilst
he recruited his ranks by the preaching of another crusade against
Manfred, he augmented his means of hiring more efficient soldiers, by
accepting money, as a full equivalent for the performance of a crusading
vow, in behalf of the Holy Land. Thus provided,
Alexander renewed the war with vigour. One army, under Cardinal Ubaldini,
he sent into the Abruzzi, and two into Calabria: the one by land
under the Archpriest of Padua, the other by sea under two chiefs, one
of whom, at least, was a military man, Ruffo being joined in command with
the Archbishop of Cosenza.
If the scheme of operations were the Marshal’s, he had
formed it without reference to the description of generals (tyros and
churchmen), upon whom the execution rested. The Prince of Tarento no
sooner heard of the Cardinal’s advance through the Abruzzi into the
Capitanato, than, raising the siege of Oria, which he had resumed, he
hastened to oppose his progress. His very decided numerical superiority
could not encourage his eminence singly to encounter his audacious
adversary; but taking up a strong position, which he further fortified, at Frigento, he sent the Arch-priest orders to join
him. Even thus reinforced he dared not stir from behind his entrenchments:
whilst Manfred, who, with far inferior numbers, could not think of
assaulting a well-posted and well-defended camp, took up another strong
position adjacent to Ubaldini’s, whence he watched the invaders. The
Cardinal’s timidity, thus keeping two of the three Papal armies inactive
and interrupting all operations, baffled the whole plan of campaign. In
Calabria, the double invasion had at first promised to be successful. Throngs
of Crusaders, swelling the ranks, rendered the Papal armies fearfully
large, whilst reports, craftily disseminated by Ruffo—as of a third Papal army,
or a second Papal fleet, with auxiliaries, being on their way—of a
body of Manfred’s troops being defeated—of Manfred himself being besieged
in Guardia—had scared the population from resistance. The Archbishop and the low-born Earl mastered Cozensa without
opposition. But the loss of the preconcerted co-operation, by the
withdrawal of the Arch-priest’s forces, and the decided enmity of
the Calabrians—abundantly displayed upon finding the reports that had
depressed them, false—combined with counter reports, which Manfred’s Commanders
in the province, taking a leaf out of their enemy’s book, disseminated
in their turn, so disheartened the invaders, that they
hastily re-embarked, and, being refused permission to land at Tropea,
returned to Naples.
In the Capitanata, meanwhile, diplomacy had succeeded
to the clash of arms. The widowed Queen, and her brother, Duke Lewis, had
sent an ambassador to treat, conjointly with the Prince of Tarento, for
Conradin’s recognition as vassal-King, by the Pope; this ambassador put
himself in communication with the Cardinal. His Eminence, influenced by
Berthold, who had joined him, readily listened to these overtures; when,
in order to give the Bavarian time, not merely to visit the Papal court,
but also there to open the negotiation, a truce was concluded, and
confirmed by oath, requiring five days’ notice prior to the
resumption of hostilities. Trusting to this solemn engagement, Manfred
left his camp, to attend to other affairs elsewhere. Alexander IV received
the Envoy courteously, but referred him back to the Cardinal, who had, he
said, full powers to treat for peace, but none to conclude a temporary
suspension of warlike operations; wherefore he rejected the existing truce
as invalid. Upon the strength of this rejection, the Cardinal, without
giving the stipulated notice, or indeed any, whatever, availed himself of
Manfred’s absence to seize Foggia by surprise, and threaten Luceria.
Manfred, however confounded, was not of a temper to be
discouraged by the perfidy of his priestly adversary. Hastily gathering
such forces as he could, upon the instant, draw round him, despite the
occupation of the passes by Papal troops, he broke through all
opposition, and flew to defend Luceria. Then, as corps after
corps joined him, he was able to besiege the prelate in Foggia, where, the place not being adequately victualled,
symptoms of scarcity soon appeared. The Margrave, who, simultaneously with
the Cardinal’s surprise of Foggia, had possessed himself of some tow ns upon
the eastern coast of Apulia, soon found that, without his ecclesiastical
coadjutor’s co-operation, he could not hold his conquests. Evacuating them, he
busied himself in preparing to free the warlike priest; whilst he sent his
Lancia wife, Iselda, to negotiate a fallacious reconciliation with her cousin,
the Prince of Tarento. To Manfred, such a lessening of the number of
his enemies, was most desirable; but he soon discovered, that Berthold’s
sole object was again to delude him; and that, whilst the wife was
treating, perhaps honestly, with him, the husband was secretly
collecting provisions, for the relief of Foggia. Manfred
silently watched his movements, and laid an ambush upon the road, by
which his convoy must proceed. Berthold in person led the escort, more
numerous than the ambushed troops; but, in the nocturnal surprise, his men
were taken at such disadvantage, that the escort was
completely routed, the convoy, and a great number of prisoners, the Margrave
included, remaining in the victors’ hands.
This disaster constraining Foggia to capitulate, the
Cardinal now dealt frankly with the Prince and the Bavarian Envoy. As all
parties were in earnest, the difficulties seemed to have vanished. Conradin,
alias Conrad II, was acknowledged as King of Sicily, in vassalage to
the Holy See; and it was agreed that the whole kingdom, with the
exception of the Terra di Lavoro, reserved by the Church,
should be restored to Manfred, as Regent for the infant King; Manfred
covenanting for liberty, if the Pope should not ratify the treaty, to
conquer that province. The Cardinal, in execution of the treaty, withdrew
into Terra di Lavoro.
But Alexander, at this moment, flattered himself that,
through the agency of his Franciscan Vicar and the Archbishop of Messina, he
had won the Sicilians to his interest. In the elation of spirit consequent
upon this success, he chose to trust to the promises of one, who had
shown himself so unable to fulfil his engagements, as Henry III, and
rejected the peace, which he had so lately declared the Cardinal fully
empowered to sign. Whether a couple of domineering republics, under Papal
suzerainty, formed a proper half of the kingdom, he was pledged to
give Prince Edmund, he did not trouble himself to inquire. Nor was he
ever obliged to do so, for Henry, always involved in political and pecuniary
embarrassments, had neither men nor money to send—his term had not yet
expired, but he remained equally unable to supply them at its close. The
short remainder of the year, 1255, passed in a virtual suspension of
hostilities.
Manfred devoted this respite, to quieting and
regulating the provinces subject to his authority. In February 1256, he
held at Barletta an assembly of the Estates of the kingdom, in which
rewards were adjudged to the loyal subjects of Conradin, and condign
punishment to the chief rebels. Conte Catanzaro was outlawed, and
the Margraves of Hohenberg, all of whom had been made prisoners, were
sentenced to death. But Manfred desired not the blood of his rivals, still
less of his young Sovereign’s kinsmen, if they could be otherwise rendered
innocuous; and he commuted their doom to life-long imprisonment.
In the summer, the Regent, invading Terra di Lavoro
with increased forces, subdued it with little difficulty. Capua freely
opened her gates to him, and even Naples deserted the Pope. Alexander
withdrew to the Estates of the Church, and continental Sicily was
Conradin’s and Manfred’s. Federigo Lancia was soon afterwards as
successful in the insular half. He recovered old, and gained new
partisans, induced or obliged one republican town after another to swear
allegiance to Conradin, defeated the Papal army, compelled even Messina to
submit, and took the Papal Vicar, Friar Ruffino, prisoner. Sicily, on
both sides the Faro, was now Conradin’s. The Pope, indeed, at Easter,
1257, again excommunicated Manfred, again formally pronounced all his
possessions forfeited. But, if the voice of rebellion were not yet quite
silenced throughout the land, the Regent was substantially master, for
his nephew, of the Norman portion of his heritage, and the church
thunderbolt fell harmless.
But now, those whom the Regent had led to victory,
conjointly with whom he had reconquered the independence of their country,
began to utter aloud the probably long-cherished wish, that the Hero they
knew, loved, and revered, should be their King, rather than a child,
unknown to all, and growing up amongst the contemned and abhorred,
tramontane barbarians. This wish daily gained strength, and in an assembly
of the Estates of the realm—comprehending nobles of all degrees, prelates,
and deputies from the chief cities—was energetically expressed. The
speakers urged: “Manfred is the best beloved son of our great Emperor, the
offspring of lawful, if unequal, wedlock, with a countrywoman of our
own, and educated amongst us. Hence he has an hereditary right to the throne. As a youthful hero
he has rescued the kingdom from foreign thraldom and tyranny,
raising himself from the lowest depth of oppression and degradation to
princely power. This gives him an individual right to the throne. We, the
Barons and Prelates of the kingdom, must not suffer our country,
surrounded by difficulties and dangers, to be abandoned to
uncertain chances, but must now, like our fathers of yore, place
the best man at her head. This is our right of election. Then, by
hereditary right, by the individual right of desert, and by our right of
election, be Manfred our King.”
Manfred is said to have urged his nephew’s birthright,
in opposition to these gratifying arguments; but his very doing so would
enhance the desire to seat him on the throne. This desire became immutable
determination, upon a rumour, now again in circulation, of
Conradin’s death; and the only ascertained fault, imputable to Manfred
upon the occasion, is, having too lightly given credence to a report, that
authorized his acceding to the general wish. And, in palliation of this
fault, be it recollected, that neither Conrad nor Elizabeth had,
by treating him with the confidence to which, then at least, he was
entitled, strengthened the bonds of duty with the tyes of affection. His position was analogous to his great-uncle, Philip’s; and
he might reasonably fear, that the attempt to reserve the throne for his
nephew would enable the Pope to wrest it from both. Upon the 10th of April, 1258, at Palermo, Manfred was, with
the accustomed rites and ceremonies, crowned King of Sicily and
Apulia.
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