Rufus
06-01-2004, 23:59
CHAPTER I - A New Emperor
December 1087 - Speyer, Franconia
As the church bell tolled midnight, the townspeople of Speyer were long abed, but their lord and his guests showed no signs of cutting short their Christmas festivities. Only two miles from the town center, Helmut's post at Speyer Castle's front gate was usually close enough to hear the toll of the hours. Knowing how most towns had to make due with the parish priest announcing the hours of the day in the loudest voice he could muster, Helmut always delighted in hearing Speyer's bells. The noise from his lord's great hall, however, drowned out the midnight chime, so Helmut did not realize he was only three hours into his shift when the courier galloped up to the gate.
Helmut called down to the horseman, who was standing across the frozen moat. What business have you?
News from Aachen, for his lordship Duke Conrad.
With the noise from the great hall, Helmut caught only Aachen, but that was enough, especially since he recognized the regalia of the Elector of Saxony emblazoned on the horseman's cloak. He lowered the drawbridge and led the man toward the great hall.
Even in the chaotic revelry, the courier recognized Johann von Lindenhof, chief knight in the household of Conrad, Duke of Franconia. Begging your pardon, mein Herr, but I have an urgent message for his Grace the Duke. I rode from Aachen, on behalf of my lord the Elector of Saxony.
Johann turned from the gaggle of knights who were conspicuously admiring the visiting young Duchess of Bavaria and her household ladies. He wiped his beard clean, put down his mug of ale and examined the courier's message. After taking a moment to focus his eyes on the elaborate Latin script, he brought the courier forward to the dais.
A tall man who projected a sense of power, Johann drew the crowd's attention as he approached the Duke with the courier in tow. Within minutes the great hall fell silent. Johann bowed to Conrad and introduced the courier, who bowed deeply. My lord, his Grace Wilhelm the Elector of Saxony bids you a joyous Christmas and sends this message, the courier said, handing the parchment to the Duke.
Conrad continued to quaff the ale from his stein as he read. When he finished, he laughed riotously, and handed the parchment to his brother Rudolf, sitting next him. After reading it, Rudolf gleefully stood up on the table and announced, My dearest guests of the House of Franconia The Electors have most graciously awarded an excellent Christmas gift to my brother the Duke Behold, the new Emperor of the Germans
The crowd gasped as Rudolf nearly fell off the table, but he managed to land unharmed. Servant, fetch me my chamber pot, so I can crown our new Kaiser appropriately
The crowd roared with laughter, including the Duke, although Johann merely smirked. Johann shared the crowd's derision of the imperial title. The courier's parchment spoke of the sacrum Romanum imperium but the Holy Roman Empire was a fiction, as was any concept of a unified German realm. It had been centuries since the German Emperor held any measure of real power outside of his own family's lands. And Conrad's predecessor, Heinrich IV, failed miserably in a power struggle with the Pope over the right to appoint bishops. This tainted the prestige of the imperial crown, seemingly forever. The Electors had a real choice, rather than one imposed on them, for the first time in recent memory because no one actively sought the title.
As the crowd's laughter died down, Conrad mildly chastised his brother. No, Rudolf, please leave your privy in peace. We know that the honors of crowning me go to our uncle, His Holiness the Pope. Johann, you and your knights should enjoy this night's festivities but tomorrow begin preparing a traveling party to depart for Rome on New Years Day. Now, back to my ale, Conrad said, pulling his comely wife Gisela back onto his lap.
************************************************************
CHAPTER II - A Papal Proposal
JANUARY 1088 - ROME
Conrad did not know what to expect as he awaited his audience with his uncle. He had only seen Alberto Sabatini di Milano, now Pope Urban VI, three times in his life, all as a young boy, before the death of his mother, the Pope's elder sister.
The new Holy Roman Emperor was nearly six feet tall, 42 years old, a jovial man who'd once been quite handsome but now bore the signs of a life of combat and not a little debauchery. Like many other German duchies, Franconia saw its share of rebellions and uprisings, and Conrad had gained a reputation as a skilled commander over the years in suppressing them. As Duke he learned quickly whom to trust and developed a close-knit circle of knights and advisors, including his brother Rudolf, whose comedic personality belied cunning political instincts. In recent years, the province had seen good weather and good harvests, and the populace was generally happy.
He was known for his candor and expected as much from others. He appreciated a lively exchange of views but brooked no dissent once his decision was made. Conrad enjoyed his ducal position. His ambivalence about the imperial crown stemmed from a concern that his reputation for effectiveness would be diluted. He saw it as a thankless, empty title that brought nothing but misery to his most recent predecessors. He wondered if the Pope would simply crown him and bid him good day, or if his uncle had something else in mind.
Cardinal Francesco di Aleppi greeted Conrad and his knights in the papal antechamber with barely concealed contempt. Just you, he said to Conrad in Latin, beckoning the knights to stay behind.
The Pope's reception hall was brightly lit with the colors of the stained glass windows depicting the Stations of the Cross. Several other cardinals stood encircling the Pope, seated in a plain throne on the dais at the end of the hall. With none of the pomp of a royal coronation, this ceremony was appropriately banal for such a hollow title, Conrad thought. Prompted by Cardinal di Aleppi, Conrad approached his uncle and knelt. The 58-year-old man looked quite vigorous for his years, and Conrad noticed a still-strong resemblance to his mother.
The Pope stood, and a Cardinal handed him a crown of laurel wreath. In a booming voice, the Pope recited the Latin coronation blessing: In the name of our Holy Savior Jesus Christ, as His Vicar on Earth, I, Pope Urban the Sixth, invest thee as Holy Roman Emperor, and charge thee to defend and extend the True Faith and keep Holy those lands under thy dominion. Arise, Imperator, Conrad the Second.
The Pope placed the laurels on Conrad's head, and the Emperor stood. Suddenly the Pope embraced him, kissed him on both cheeks and drew back, smiling. Come, Conrad, let us discuss a few matters in my chambers, he said in German. They proceeded alone to a small room behind the dais.
Conrad, your mother would have been so proud to see your coronation. May God bless her soul.
Your Holiness, forgive my candor, but she would have seen this for what it is. This crown, he said, removing the laurel wreath from his head, means nothing. What is left of the glory of Rome sits in Constantinople. I am no holier, more Roman or more of an Emperor than I was yesterday.
Conrad, it may surprise you that I agree with you. It gave me no pleasure to humiliate your predecessor. He left me no choice. The Church must control appointment of bishops - on this there can be no compromise.
Conrad paused, studying his uncle's face but failing to discern any clues to his real motives.
Your Holiness, if I may continue to be candid, if this is all you wanted to discuss, we are wasting our time. There is no enthusiasm among my fellow Germans to reopen this issue. You hold all the advantages. With the clergy accountable permanently and exclusively to you, no German lord wants to risk an uprising now by defying the Church. So, congratulations. Now, if I may, I'd like to return to Franconia where my attention is needed on local matters.
Conrad, you misunderstand me. This rift helps neither of us. I have a proposal. Please, sit down.
Conrad was highly intrigued.
We both face a dilemma, the Pope continued. You hold no effective power outside Franconia; although you may not seek it, you cannot deny you would jump at the opportunity to rule all of Germany as an Emperor in fact and in name. If you are your mother's son, this must be true. Conrad smirked.
You lack the power to grant noble titles, so the nobles are not accountable to you. You therefore lack any force of arms beyond your meager private armies, and any means of collecting imperial taxes, said the Pope. You are destined to remain, in effect, little more than Duke of Franconia.
Now onto my dilemma. I know not how many more years the Lord intends to keep me here as his servant. Were I to fall dead today, I imagine the Lord might judge that I have strengthened his Church but done little to expand it, little to spread the Gospels to those who have yet to hear them.
I am quite familiar with your call to expel the infidels from the Holy Land, Conrad interrupted, but as you so insightfully pointed out, I have no armies with which to go on Crusade.
That is why you must listen to my proposal, Conrad. I will help you gain power if you promise to use it in service to the Church. I am willing to issue an edict granting you and your successors the power to appoint nobles. Obviously if they depend on you for their lands and titles, their armies will be at your disposal. You would then use these armies to extend the reach of the Roman Catholic Church.
Into the Holy Land, you mean.
The Holy Land, and wherever the light of our Lord has yet to shine There are still pagans on your doorstep along the Baltic Sea coast And although you will be too weak to do so at first, you will eventually be expected to replace the Orthodox heresy with the Roman Catholic faith in Byzantine lands. Soon, your Empire and not theirs will be recognized as the true successor to the Caesars, and as the great defender of the Church you will be a worthy heir to Karl der Grosse
Conrad paused, noting the Pope's clever German invocation of the original Holy Roman Emperor, a legendary figure all German boys grew up admiring. He kept a straight face, though. The Holy Roman Emperor is elected. Even if I achieve all this, how can I be sure my son will inherit my empire from me?
As a practical matter your heir will be strong to draw any significant opposition, the Pope said. Should there be any doubt, the full power and support of the Church will be behind your son, and all your descendants, for as long as our agreement remains in force.
And you expect the nobles to gleefully accept this arrangement?
Herein lies another service I can provide. When you return to Germany, gather your fellow nobles for a council with my servant the Archbishop of Mainz. He will report my edict about imperial appointments of nobles. After he leaves, you can placate the nobles with another part of the deal: new lands to the east. A Drang nach Osten.
The pagan lands? There are only a few that can provide any measure of riches. That won't satisfy them all.
I know. So you invade the Kingdoms of the Poles and the Hungarians.
Conrad laughed. You expect me to believe I wouldn't be excommunicated for attacking my fellow Catholics?
Well clearly I would have to admonish you publicly. But if you eliminate their regimes quickly, the matter will disappear, as ... well ... the aggrieved party would no longer exist.
The Pope paused. He could tell Conrad was still deeply skeptical.
Let me tell you another reason for my proposal. As deeply fractured as Christendom is, no Catholic king is strong enough to expand the reach of the Church. There must be an Empire for Rome capable to stand up to the Empires of Constantinople and Cairo.
Why me?
Who else? The Danes are too far away and their glory years have passed. The English and the French are too busy fighting over their disputed fiefdoms. The Spanish don't even control the whole of their peninsula. The Venetians and the Sicilians are too loath to relinquish their Byzantine trade profits. The Poles and the Hungarians are far too weak. It is only a matter of time before the Byzantines try to expand northward to swallow up the Slavic kingdoms. And finally, my blood runs in your veins. I know my sister was a strong woman, and already today, I see a lot of her in you. So this is, shall we say, a unique opportunity. And I am willing to overlook a great many of the rules of the past in order to seize it.
Conrad thought for a moment. That's all there is to it?
Well, of course I would retain the power of appointment of bishops, the Pope replied. And your progress must be satisfactory. And your fidelity must never be in doubt. I should not even have to mention that the sovereignty of Papal lands cannot be violated. I reserve the right to relinquish at any time your suzerainty over the German nobility.
Conrad stared into the Pope's eyes. After a long pause, he said, I will have to confer with my advisors in Franconia. I will send a messenger back by Candlemas with my response. If I agree to your proposal, you can send your edict back with my messenger and he will deliver it to the Archbishop of Mainz.
The Pope smiled broadly. Excellent, my son. I do hope you find my terms agreeable. It is most certainly to your advantage, and to mine, and it will please the Lord. Go in peace.
December 1087 - Speyer, Franconia
As the church bell tolled midnight, the townspeople of Speyer were long abed, but their lord and his guests showed no signs of cutting short their Christmas festivities. Only two miles from the town center, Helmut's post at Speyer Castle's front gate was usually close enough to hear the toll of the hours. Knowing how most towns had to make due with the parish priest announcing the hours of the day in the loudest voice he could muster, Helmut always delighted in hearing Speyer's bells. The noise from his lord's great hall, however, drowned out the midnight chime, so Helmut did not realize he was only three hours into his shift when the courier galloped up to the gate.
Helmut called down to the horseman, who was standing across the frozen moat. What business have you?
News from Aachen, for his lordship Duke Conrad.
With the noise from the great hall, Helmut caught only Aachen, but that was enough, especially since he recognized the regalia of the Elector of Saxony emblazoned on the horseman's cloak. He lowered the drawbridge and led the man toward the great hall.
Even in the chaotic revelry, the courier recognized Johann von Lindenhof, chief knight in the household of Conrad, Duke of Franconia. Begging your pardon, mein Herr, but I have an urgent message for his Grace the Duke. I rode from Aachen, on behalf of my lord the Elector of Saxony.
Johann turned from the gaggle of knights who were conspicuously admiring the visiting young Duchess of Bavaria and her household ladies. He wiped his beard clean, put down his mug of ale and examined the courier's message. After taking a moment to focus his eyes on the elaborate Latin script, he brought the courier forward to the dais.
A tall man who projected a sense of power, Johann drew the crowd's attention as he approached the Duke with the courier in tow. Within minutes the great hall fell silent. Johann bowed to Conrad and introduced the courier, who bowed deeply. My lord, his Grace Wilhelm the Elector of Saxony bids you a joyous Christmas and sends this message, the courier said, handing the parchment to the Duke.
Conrad continued to quaff the ale from his stein as he read. When he finished, he laughed riotously, and handed the parchment to his brother Rudolf, sitting next him. After reading it, Rudolf gleefully stood up on the table and announced, My dearest guests of the House of Franconia The Electors have most graciously awarded an excellent Christmas gift to my brother the Duke Behold, the new Emperor of the Germans
The crowd gasped as Rudolf nearly fell off the table, but he managed to land unharmed. Servant, fetch me my chamber pot, so I can crown our new Kaiser appropriately
The crowd roared with laughter, including the Duke, although Johann merely smirked. Johann shared the crowd's derision of the imperial title. The courier's parchment spoke of the sacrum Romanum imperium but the Holy Roman Empire was a fiction, as was any concept of a unified German realm. It had been centuries since the German Emperor held any measure of real power outside of his own family's lands. And Conrad's predecessor, Heinrich IV, failed miserably in a power struggle with the Pope over the right to appoint bishops. This tainted the prestige of the imperial crown, seemingly forever. The Electors had a real choice, rather than one imposed on them, for the first time in recent memory because no one actively sought the title.
As the crowd's laughter died down, Conrad mildly chastised his brother. No, Rudolf, please leave your privy in peace. We know that the honors of crowning me go to our uncle, His Holiness the Pope. Johann, you and your knights should enjoy this night's festivities but tomorrow begin preparing a traveling party to depart for Rome on New Years Day. Now, back to my ale, Conrad said, pulling his comely wife Gisela back onto his lap.
************************************************************
CHAPTER II - A Papal Proposal
JANUARY 1088 - ROME
Conrad did not know what to expect as he awaited his audience with his uncle. He had only seen Alberto Sabatini di Milano, now Pope Urban VI, three times in his life, all as a young boy, before the death of his mother, the Pope's elder sister.
The new Holy Roman Emperor was nearly six feet tall, 42 years old, a jovial man who'd once been quite handsome but now bore the signs of a life of combat and not a little debauchery. Like many other German duchies, Franconia saw its share of rebellions and uprisings, and Conrad had gained a reputation as a skilled commander over the years in suppressing them. As Duke he learned quickly whom to trust and developed a close-knit circle of knights and advisors, including his brother Rudolf, whose comedic personality belied cunning political instincts. In recent years, the province had seen good weather and good harvests, and the populace was generally happy.
He was known for his candor and expected as much from others. He appreciated a lively exchange of views but brooked no dissent once his decision was made. Conrad enjoyed his ducal position. His ambivalence about the imperial crown stemmed from a concern that his reputation for effectiveness would be diluted. He saw it as a thankless, empty title that brought nothing but misery to his most recent predecessors. He wondered if the Pope would simply crown him and bid him good day, or if his uncle had something else in mind.
Cardinal Francesco di Aleppi greeted Conrad and his knights in the papal antechamber with barely concealed contempt. Just you, he said to Conrad in Latin, beckoning the knights to stay behind.
The Pope's reception hall was brightly lit with the colors of the stained glass windows depicting the Stations of the Cross. Several other cardinals stood encircling the Pope, seated in a plain throne on the dais at the end of the hall. With none of the pomp of a royal coronation, this ceremony was appropriately banal for such a hollow title, Conrad thought. Prompted by Cardinal di Aleppi, Conrad approached his uncle and knelt. The 58-year-old man looked quite vigorous for his years, and Conrad noticed a still-strong resemblance to his mother.
The Pope stood, and a Cardinal handed him a crown of laurel wreath. In a booming voice, the Pope recited the Latin coronation blessing: In the name of our Holy Savior Jesus Christ, as His Vicar on Earth, I, Pope Urban the Sixth, invest thee as Holy Roman Emperor, and charge thee to defend and extend the True Faith and keep Holy those lands under thy dominion. Arise, Imperator, Conrad the Second.
The Pope placed the laurels on Conrad's head, and the Emperor stood. Suddenly the Pope embraced him, kissed him on both cheeks and drew back, smiling. Come, Conrad, let us discuss a few matters in my chambers, he said in German. They proceeded alone to a small room behind the dais.
Conrad, your mother would have been so proud to see your coronation. May God bless her soul.
Your Holiness, forgive my candor, but she would have seen this for what it is. This crown, he said, removing the laurel wreath from his head, means nothing. What is left of the glory of Rome sits in Constantinople. I am no holier, more Roman or more of an Emperor than I was yesterday.
Conrad, it may surprise you that I agree with you. It gave me no pleasure to humiliate your predecessor. He left me no choice. The Church must control appointment of bishops - on this there can be no compromise.
Conrad paused, studying his uncle's face but failing to discern any clues to his real motives.
Your Holiness, if I may continue to be candid, if this is all you wanted to discuss, we are wasting our time. There is no enthusiasm among my fellow Germans to reopen this issue. You hold all the advantages. With the clergy accountable permanently and exclusively to you, no German lord wants to risk an uprising now by defying the Church. So, congratulations. Now, if I may, I'd like to return to Franconia where my attention is needed on local matters.
Conrad, you misunderstand me. This rift helps neither of us. I have a proposal. Please, sit down.
Conrad was highly intrigued.
We both face a dilemma, the Pope continued. You hold no effective power outside Franconia; although you may not seek it, you cannot deny you would jump at the opportunity to rule all of Germany as an Emperor in fact and in name. If you are your mother's son, this must be true. Conrad smirked.
You lack the power to grant noble titles, so the nobles are not accountable to you. You therefore lack any force of arms beyond your meager private armies, and any means of collecting imperial taxes, said the Pope. You are destined to remain, in effect, little more than Duke of Franconia.
Now onto my dilemma. I know not how many more years the Lord intends to keep me here as his servant. Were I to fall dead today, I imagine the Lord might judge that I have strengthened his Church but done little to expand it, little to spread the Gospels to those who have yet to hear them.
I am quite familiar with your call to expel the infidels from the Holy Land, Conrad interrupted, but as you so insightfully pointed out, I have no armies with which to go on Crusade.
That is why you must listen to my proposal, Conrad. I will help you gain power if you promise to use it in service to the Church. I am willing to issue an edict granting you and your successors the power to appoint nobles. Obviously if they depend on you for their lands and titles, their armies will be at your disposal. You would then use these armies to extend the reach of the Roman Catholic Church.
Into the Holy Land, you mean.
The Holy Land, and wherever the light of our Lord has yet to shine There are still pagans on your doorstep along the Baltic Sea coast And although you will be too weak to do so at first, you will eventually be expected to replace the Orthodox heresy with the Roman Catholic faith in Byzantine lands. Soon, your Empire and not theirs will be recognized as the true successor to the Caesars, and as the great defender of the Church you will be a worthy heir to Karl der Grosse
Conrad paused, noting the Pope's clever German invocation of the original Holy Roman Emperor, a legendary figure all German boys grew up admiring. He kept a straight face, though. The Holy Roman Emperor is elected. Even if I achieve all this, how can I be sure my son will inherit my empire from me?
As a practical matter your heir will be strong to draw any significant opposition, the Pope said. Should there be any doubt, the full power and support of the Church will be behind your son, and all your descendants, for as long as our agreement remains in force.
And you expect the nobles to gleefully accept this arrangement?
Herein lies another service I can provide. When you return to Germany, gather your fellow nobles for a council with my servant the Archbishop of Mainz. He will report my edict about imperial appointments of nobles. After he leaves, you can placate the nobles with another part of the deal: new lands to the east. A Drang nach Osten.
The pagan lands? There are only a few that can provide any measure of riches. That won't satisfy them all.
I know. So you invade the Kingdoms of the Poles and the Hungarians.
Conrad laughed. You expect me to believe I wouldn't be excommunicated for attacking my fellow Catholics?
Well clearly I would have to admonish you publicly. But if you eliminate their regimes quickly, the matter will disappear, as ... well ... the aggrieved party would no longer exist.
The Pope paused. He could tell Conrad was still deeply skeptical.
Let me tell you another reason for my proposal. As deeply fractured as Christendom is, no Catholic king is strong enough to expand the reach of the Church. There must be an Empire for Rome capable to stand up to the Empires of Constantinople and Cairo.
Why me?
Who else? The Danes are too far away and their glory years have passed. The English and the French are too busy fighting over their disputed fiefdoms. The Spanish don't even control the whole of their peninsula. The Venetians and the Sicilians are too loath to relinquish their Byzantine trade profits. The Poles and the Hungarians are far too weak. It is only a matter of time before the Byzantines try to expand northward to swallow up the Slavic kingdoms. And finally, my blood runs in your veins. I know my sister was a strong woman, and already today, I see a lot of her in you. So this is, shall we say, a unique opportunity. And I am willing to overlook a great many of the rules of the past in order to seize it.
Conrad thought for a moment. That's all there is to it?
Well, of course I would retain the power of appointment of bishops, the Pope replied. And your progress must be satisfactory. And your fidelity must never be in doubt. I should not even have to mention that the sovereignty of Papal lands cannot be violated. I reserve the right to relinquish at any time your suzerainty over the German nobility.
Conrad stared into the Pope's eyes. After a long pause, he said, I will have to confer with my advisors in Franconia. I will send a messenger back by Candlemas with my response. If I agree to your proposal, you can send your edict back with my messenger and he will deliver it to the Archbishop of Mainz.
The Pope smiled broadly. Excellent, my son. I do hope you find my terms agreeable. It is most certainly to your advantage, and to mine, and it will please the Lord. Go in peace.