Frederics Expedition—Contest with Otho—War with France—Battle of Bouvines—General Desertion of Otho—Coronation, of Frederic— Children’s Crusade. 

 

But if the prospect that had induced Frederic to set forward upon his bold adventure was alluringly bright, the approach was far from easy. The path, in the very first steps, was anything but smooth. He was not as yet even free to repair to his destination had the road been clear of the perils thickly besetting it. He had not, up to this day, visited the continental portion of his kingdom, and felt the necessity of so doing, in order to provide for the administration of Apulia—always, seemingly, kept distinct from that of Sicily,—before removing to a great distance, for an indefinite length of time. For this purpose he landed at Gaeta, and kept the Easter festival at Benevento; there he received many Apulian vassals, appointed officers of various descriptions, and made arrangements with respect to the general conduct of affairs in his absence.

From Benevento he repaired to Rome, where he passed the greater part of the month of April, in long and important conferences with his former guardian. Innocent gave him all imaginable encouragement with much good advice, and supplied him with money for his arduous undertaking; but, for the assistance thus afforded, he demanded a high price. Frederic had again attempted to exercise the right ceded or confirmed by the Popes to his Norman ancestors, naming a bishop to the vacant see of Policastro; the Pope had not only pronounced the nomination invalid, but had himself appointed a Bishop of Policastro, in virtue of the resignation of the rights, extorted from the deceased Empress. He now required the young King to cancel his own nomination, and acknowledge the papal Bishop. He required him further, to bind himself by oath, not to unite upon his own head all the crowns he claimed, but, as soon as he should be Emperor, to resign Sicily to his son. Frederic, whose chance of success seemed to depend upon the part the Pope should take, had no choice but to comply; and Innocent rewarded this compulsory submission by relieving from excommunication, and granting a full pardon to Leopold, Bishop of Worms, ex-Archbishop of Mainz; who had been the victim of his fidelity to Frederic’s uncle Philip; and even since his deprivation of his see had incurred new papal displeasure, by his unsuccessful efforts to preserve Tuscany for its royal Duke. The thoughts and feelings of the young King, at this proof that some of his Queen’s apprehensions were well founded, there are no means of ascertaining; but if a conjecture, that he impatiently anticipated a time when a Pope’s friendship no longer need be purchased at a price so exorbitant, be admissible, it will follow that in the sacrifices now extorted, were sown the seeds of his subsequent opposition to Papal pretensions.

Amidst the disorders of Tancred’s usurpation, Henry VI's conquests, and his son’s minority, Sicily had, apparently, ceased to be a maritime power; since Frederic was obliged to seek assistance for that portion of travel which he designed to make by sea; and at Innocent’s desire, the Genoese sent a fleet to convey him from Ostia to their city. Genoa having been laid under the ban of the Empire by Otho, as Ghibeline, or rather as hostile to himself, Pisa had, in pure Ghibelinism, attached herself to the Guelph Otho, as Emperor; and Genoa, not habitually Imperialist, attached herself to Otho’s Ghibeline rival, mainly, perhaps, actuated by enmity to Pisa. But, whatever her motive, Genoa received the young King, when in the month of May he landed from her squadron, loyally; and in acknowledgment of vassalage, defrayed all his expenses during his sojourn within her walls.

Beyond all expectation was this sojourn prolonged, for at Genoa began the difficulties of Frederic’s enterprise, and nearly two months did they detain him there. The problem to be solved was, how, notwithstanding the almost universal hostility of the Lombards,—and nearly universal indeed that hostility was,—to traverse their country without an army. The usual Guelphism of Milan, being merely the symptom of her desire for independence, was adopted, or superseded by Ghibelinism, as the interest or whim of the moment dictated; and in 1212 the anti-papal spirit,—originating in the spiritual pretensions of her earl-archbishops,—was revived, by the prevalence of heresy amongst her citizens. The attachment she professed to Frederic Barbarossa and his race, when, upon the cordial reconciliation, he celebrated his son’s marriage in her cathedral, expired when Innocent befriended Barbarossa’s grandson. Milan adhered to Otho, rejecting the papal candidate for the Empire; and Innocent laid the city under an interdict. But Guelphs disregarded papal thunders, when launched against themselves, as completely as could Ghibelines. Milan was stubborn; and, voluntarily or perforce, so generally did the Lombard cities follow her lead, that from Turin to Mantua and the banks of the Brenta, the papal command was generally slighted. Only Pavia and Cremona persevered in their hereditary loyalty to the Swabian Emperors. Even of the naturally Ghibeline, noble vassals, some adhered upon principle to the de facto sovereign; some resented the Pope’s presuming to depose a lawfully elected and crowned emperor; some, like the cities, succumbed to Milan; whilst the mightiest amongst them, Ezzelino di Romano, was, like Salinguerra, won by the ample grants received from Otho.

At Genoa, Frederic was visited by the chiefs of his strangely mixed party; the faithful adherents of his family, confederating with those of the Papal See. These visitors were the Marquess of Montferrat—son of the Crusader King of Thessalonica, delighted to reconcile his attachment to his Imperial Liege Lord and kinsman with his duty to the Pope—the Marquess of Este, the Conte di San Bonifazio, a few other nobles, and the deputies of the loyal cities. The subject of constant discussion was the possibility of the young King’s reaching Germany without an army to force his way. The beautiful Riviera road to Nice, whence, crossing the Var, he would have been in Provence—included in the Arelat, part of the Empire—did not then exist. The Alps could not be turned, but must be crossed, and how, with the few troops that could on the spur of the emergency be raised, get through the strongly guarded passes? How even reach them? All Frederic’s counsellors, persuaded that he must inevitably be intercepted, and compelled to fight his way against an overpowering disparity of numbers, vehemently opposed his stirring from Genoa.

But during this delay Otho was well known to be daily gaining strength in Germany; and hurrying on the marriage by which he trusted to win to his side the very partisans upon whom Frederic and his friends relied. The young King felt that procrastination must be fatal to his hopes, that his standard ought to be raised in Germany prior to the impending marriage. He neither could nor would longer delay; but after a tedious struggle, resolved to set forth, fears and opposition notwithstanding, trusting to the celerity of his movements for baffling the designs of his enemies. His faithful friends reluctantly submitted to his determination, and all arrangements, including especially what may be termed the relays of his escort, were made accordingly.

Upon the 15th of July Frederic quitted Genoa, escorted by the Marquess of Montferrat as far as Pavia; which was reached before the Milanese—taken somewhat by surprise, as, expecting him, probably, to move only at the head of an army—were ready to oppose his progress. But now, knowing him in motion, they armed, ordered out their mercenaries, summoned their dependants and allies, and made sure of capturing him upon his next move. Frederic eluded the danger by starting at dusk and marching all night. Thus he reached the Lambro uninterrupted; here he thanked and dismissed his Pavian escort, crossed the river without losing a moment, and found Marchese Azzo, at the head of the Este vassals, awaiting him upon the further bank. So narrowly had the royal adventurer escaped the overwhelming force which the Milanese had now collected, that the Pavian troop was attacked upon its return home, and defeated, with a loss of seventy men taken prisoners; Pavia was in consequence compelled to become a member of the Lombard League. Azzo conveyed Frederic through Cremona, where he was received with the warmest demonstrations of loyalty, to Verona, and there resigned his charge to Conte San Bonifazio. It was almost the last act of his life, for in this same year 1212, Marchese Azzo died, and was succeeded by his son Aldrovandini. San Bonifazio in his turn conducted the King safely up the valley of the Adige, into the Tyrol, as far as Trent.

Thus far Milan had been the only formidable foe, and her army had been evaded; whilst against all others—the force of the Lombard League not having had time to assemble since his start from Genoa—Frederic had felt his escort sufficient. But from this point he was satisfied that such escort must be unavailing; whilst the very short notice that could be given rendered it impossible for his scattered friends to collect in numbers adequate to encounter the strong posts guarding the usual Alpine passes against the Apulian child, as Otho was wont derisively to designate his youthful competitor. The Apulian child saw that his only chance of effecting his further passage again lay in evading those whom he might not hope successfully to encounter; and this he resolved to attempt. He therefore took leave of San Bonifazio and his Italian friends, engaged a Tyrolese guide, and, almost unattended, quitted the high roads, turning westward, to try the dangerous paths by which the active, and early-trained chamois hunter pursues his game in all directions, amidst and over those mountain barriers. Making his perilous way along these tracks, with their never-melted glaciers, broken by fearful chasms, scaling crags and peaks, even to the primaeval snow, thus to avoid all known passes, Frederic crossed some part of the ridge dividing the Valteline from the Engadine:—the very ridge over which to construct a military road has, at the present day, been deemed a miracle of engineering science. He was now in the land of the Grisons, forming part of his hereditary duchy of Swabia, and descended upon Chur or Coire. Arnold von Ems, Bishop of Coire, and Ulrich, Abbot of St. Gall, were staunch Ghibelines, and from Innocent’s having once specifically commissioned them to extort from a plundering noble restitution or compensation to some travelling merchants whom he had robbed, they may be supposed of the class of martial prelates. The Bishop, heedless of the enmity he might provoke from more powerful neighbours, Otho’s partisans, received the heir of his Swabian lords, as well as of his Emperors, with enthusiastic loyalty, and conducted him across his diocese. Upon its frontier, Abbot Ulrich, in battle array, met them, ready to escort the King onward as far as Constance.

Upon their way thither they heard that Otho, either hoping to encounter his rival whilst yet unprepared, or to destroy these faithful Swabians, before their natural Lord, who would reckon upon their support, should appear, was advancing upon Constance, at the head of such a body of troops as the Abbot, with his band of sixty men, or even reinforced by the episcopal vassals of Coire, could not dream of opposing. And this army was even then upon the banks of the Lake of Constance, whilst the Emperor’s harbingers and cooks were in the town itself, preparing his quarters and his supper. A momentary hesitation ensued; but Frederic, inexperienced as he was, clearly perceived that upon the result of the next hour depended the success of his enterprise, of his life’s grand aim, and, supported by the bold Abbot, he pressed forward. He presented himself at the gate of Constance. The Bishop had admitted Otho’s harbingers apparently because unprepared to resist the approaching force; but his heart was Ghibeline. The sight of the little band of St. Gall, with the spirited appeal of the heir of his ducal Lords, of his Imperial sovereigns, revived the courage of the prelate and of the citizens He declared that to shun all intercourse with an excommunicated person, whatever his rank, was his duty; they threw open the gate; and Frederic, with his escort, was received within the walls of Constance.

Three hours afterwards Otho arrived, and found the city gates closed against him. So important had been every minute of time! So happily had the adventurous King’s movements, notwithstanding some unavoidable delays, been calculated. Had Frederic, whilst still so poor in numbers, been excluded from Constance, as he would perforce have been had Otho preceded him there, his attempt to recover his patrimony must, in contemporaneous judgment, have been completely foiled. Yet even the detention at Genoa, of which he had reasonably been impatient, as ruinous to his hopes, had proved fortunate; for had he entered Germany prior to the melancholy death of his young cousin Beatrice, he might have found many, if not most, of the friends of his house, reluctant to rise at his call, against her consort. Now they could look to no head but himself; and, for the moment, he was safe within the walls of Constance. Otho did not feel himself in strength to take the city by storm, and therefore fell back to Ueberlingen, a strong position, that would enable him, he trusted, to cut Frederic off from the greater part of Swabia; concluding that he would, in the first instance, seek support amongst the hereditary vassals of his family.

Otho had judged well; nevertheless feudal zeal made the scheme a failure. Whatever ambitious views might be entertained by some Swabian vassals, the duchy in general was loyal to its dukes. The powerful Graf von Kyburg, who, descending by females from the Zäringen stock, was distantly related to the house of Hohenstaufen, hastened with his vassals to Constance, to escort Frederic down the Rhine. His kinsman, the Graf von Habsburg with his, reinforced by all their relations and connexions, followed his example; and Frederic left Constance at the head of a troop equal to encountering Otho, in his actual condition, without any material disadvantage. As he advanced, Swiss knights and nobles flocked to his banner, and Basle joyfully welcomed the heir of the race in which Swabia gloried. At Basle he received homage and proffers of service from all parts of the duchy; thither came a body of troops sent by the Duke of Lorrain to his aid ; and messengers from Philip Augustus to arrange an interview between the two kings at Vaucouleurs in Lorrain. Otho, quitting Ueberlingen, had moved in a line parallel to his competitor’s march, taking post at Brisach: and Frederic, while still at Basle, learned that the citizens of Brisach, at once exasperated by insults and outrages to their wives, sisters, and daughters, and encouraged by the vicinity of their rightful lord, had risen in arms, declared for him, and expelled Otho and his troops from their walls. His hereditary duchy was now his! Stimulated by this example, Bavaria, whose Dukes were so deeply indebted to Frederic Barbarossa, likewise declared for the daring grandson and heir of that Emperor, and Otho withdrew to Brunswick.

Frederic continued his course down the Rhine, and at Worms had the gratification of reinstalling a victim to his Ghibeline fidelity, Bishop Leopold, in his original see. Thence he repaired to Vaucouleur, where he met, not King Philip, who was prevented by indisposition from keeping his appointment, but his son, Prince Lewis. With him the league of friendship that had, almost uninterruptedly, subsisted between Philip Augustus of France, and Frederic’s father and uncle, Henry VI and Philip, was renewed. Enmity to Otho was now the bond of union; and to promote their common interest by his overthrow, Lewis, in his father’s name, presented Frederic with a subsidy of 20,000 marks, towards defraying his unavoidable expenses.

Frederic, after parting from the French Prince, repaired to Mainz, where he arrived in December, and received the homage of many princes. There his uncle’s trusty Chancellor, the Bishop of Spires, who seems to have held the same post under himself, asked him, where he would have the French subsidy kept. He replied: “Nowhere! It is not to be kept, but distributed amongst our friends.” An answer offering a contrast to Otho’s habitual parsimony, even more favourable to the heir of the Swabian Emperors, than did that of his gracious, and cheerfully affable, demeanour to his rival’s rudeness. Happy for him and for the Empire, had such pecuniary sacrifices been all that he was obliged to make, as the price of obtaining his ancestral crown.

The whole south of Germany had now acknowledged Frederic, and he proceeded to regulate its affairs. He held Diets in which he recompensed and further secured the services of his partisans, by various grants; some of them so decidedly detrimental to Empire and Emperor, as to be excusable only in consideration of Frederic’s circumstances. His boyish inexperience probably perceived not the importance of some amongst the sacrifices wrung from him by his urgent need of the favour of Pope, vassals, and neighbours; in short by the irresistible constraint under which he acted. For instance, to the Pope, to whom he felt himself deeply indebted, he ratified and confirmed Otho’s concessions: save as his rival’s specific assurance of Sardinia and Corsica, to the Roman See, might be held to sanction Frederic’s inference, that the whole Matildan heritage was not included in the general guarantee, to that See, of “all territories thereunto belonging.” That he renewed his grant of the county of Sora to Innocent’s brother, Conte Ricciardo, and his heirs for ever, might be an act of free pure gratitude; but the others were extorted. To Waldemar of Denmark—whose alliance or at least neutrality it was essential to secure, and who had latterly been not a little alienated from his imperial brother-in-law by the ardent friendship which his own dreaded kinsman, the ambitious Archbishop Waldemar, professed for Otho, excommunicated as he was—to Waldemar, Frederic granted investiture of some of the northern Slavonian districts lying nearest to Denmark. Waldemar had for many years been in possession of these, and of all the other northern Slavonian provinces west of the margraviate of Brandenburg; and Frederic was at the time utterly unable to recover any of them from him; still the grant was and is much censured, as an abandonment of the right to do so thereafter. To Ottocar of Bohemia he granted the right of investing bishops with their temporalities, and exemption from attendance at any, save some few specified, Diets.

In northern Germany, the Archbishop of Magdeburg, the Landgrave of Thuringia, and the Bishop of Munster, were Frederic’s only partisans east of the Rhine; and the Bishop of Liege west of that river. Otho now hastened to secure the Duke of Brabant permanently to his interest, by fulfilling the long-deferred engagement with his daughter Mary, which he had, indeed, actually broken, to wed Beatrice of Hohenstaufen. There was an idle report that no priest would venture to perform the marriage rite for the excommunicated Emperor; but if Brabant prelates refused their services, which is possible, Otho had abundance of ecclesiastics of all grades in his own party, who could not entertain scruples upon the subject—his nuptials with Beatrice had been celebrated since his excommunication; and at all events, certain it is that Mary of Brabant thenceforward appears as his wife and Empress. Her father immediately invaded the bishopric of Liege, whilst Otho himself again carried devastation into Thuringia. But Frederic, fully aware of the value of time, presently followed his rival thither, and cleared the landgraviate of enemies. Again Otho retreated to Brunswick.

In Lower Lorrain the war is chiefly remarkable for an incident characteristic of the age. The ravages committed by the Duke of Brabant are said to have been as barbarous as his language was blasphemous. The Prince-Bishop assembled his vassals, and fully relying upon divine justice, prepared, in defence of his people, to offer the far superior forces of the Duke battle. Upon Sunday, October 14th, 1213, he arrayed his small army for the encounter; and then rode through the ranks giving his blessing to those who were about to risk their lives for the protection of their hearths and their families. Thrice his warriors knelt, either to receive that blessing or to offer up a correspondent prayer. The Duke, a practised general, had on his part so drawn up his men as to take every advantage of his numerical preponderance, of the ground, the position of the sun, and the like; and he and his veterans scoffed at the bigotry of the kneeling cowards. His brother, Duke William, of Ruschebrock, on the contrary, was reverentially impressed by the spectacle, and entreated permission to mediate a reconciliation. The Duke scornfully refused it, when Duke William forebodingly exclaimed: “Brother mine, already art thou defeated?”. His presentiment was verified, even the strategy of the Duke being baffled. One display of skill had been so posting his men as must compel their adversaries to front the west, so that, the day being far advanced, the low afternoon sun might dazzle them; and as the battle began clouds overshadowed “the orb of day,” nullifying the anticipated advantage. Both parties saw in this atmospheric accident a divine interposition, which, depressing the Brabanters, inspirited the defenders of their invaded native soil. These last fought gallantly, and won the victory; 3000 Brabanters were slain, and numbers taken; the bishopric was immediately evacuated, and peace concluded.

Frederic, since his appearance in Germany, had not been re-elected, the party that had invited and supported him, acknowledging him in virtue of his unanimous election in his infancy. Neither had he been, nor did he seem anxious to be, crowned, important as that ceremony was then esteemed; because its importance depending upon strict conformity to established custom, to be of avail to him, it must take place at Achen; and notwithstanding the firm Ghibelinism of the Prince-Bishop of Liege, in whose diocese that town is situated, the attachment of the other Princes of Lower Lorrain to his competitor, rendered Charlemagne’s favourite capital now inaccessible. The impolicy of Otho was about to clear his path of that obstruction. From the hour of his expulsion from Thuringia, the anathematized Emperor, instead of concentrating his efforts against his young and active antagonist, (omitting even to assist his father-in-law—who, indeed, deemed himself strong enough single-handed—against the Bishop of Liege,) appears to have been wholly engrossed with enmity to Philip Augustus, and schemes for the conquest of France, whilst his own empire was crumbling in his hand. It is possible that he might be herein actuated by some plausible, if mistaken notion; and ascribing Frederic’s success to Philip’s support, might fancy that to defeat, or even sicken the supporter, would insure victory over the supported, and perhaps over the Pope; or he might look upon his uncle of England’s recovery of his French dominions as an essential element of his own power. But the probability is, that hie was simply indulging long-cherished resentment of the silly jest lately mentioned; encouraged so to do, and deluded by the misrepresentations of a great French vassal who was sedulously stirring up enemies to his inimical liege Lord.

The French King had, in fact, offended several of his great vassals, the most formidable of whom were the Earl and Countess of Flanders. Upon the reported death of the Emperor Baldwin, he had claimed the wardship of that Emperor’s daughter, Joanna, heiress of Flanders and Hainault. Flanders belonged chiefly to France, but in part likewise to the Empire; whilst Hainault, though speaking Walloon, i.e., northern French, was almost wholly a German fief; but the contest for the Empire between Philip and Otho probably prevented any Imperial opposition to this pretension. Philip, Earl of Namur, to whom his brother, Earl Baldwin had at his departure intrusted the care of his children, and of his dominions, being seduced into the abandonment of his duty—and indeed unsupported he could not have maintained his office against the power of France—through the offer of the hand of the King’s legitimate daughter by his illegal marriage with Agnes von Andechs, sent his two nieces, Countess Joanna and her younger sister Margaret, to Paris. As soon as the young Countess could be deemed marriageable, Philip Augustus sold her and her two counties to Prince Ferdinand of Portugal, for the promised cession of two Flemish towns, St. Omer and Aire. The nuptials were celebrated with great magnificence at Paris, but at the expense of the bride’s counties, and the wedded pair went home. But upon their way, Ferdinand and Joanna were captured by Prince Lewis, and kept prisoners, until he was in possession of the ceded towns. Naturally Ferdinand thought more both of this affront and of what was extorted from him, than of what was given or sold him; and had he proved tamer, the resentment of Countess Joanna and her vassals, would have obliged him to affect such sentiments.

But if the new Earl of Flanders and Hainault was the most powerful of the French malcontents, the Earl of Boulogne, offended by the King’s attempt to curtail the feudal privileges of the great vassals, with respect to private wars, was the most active of them. He had visited England and persuaded John to attempt the recovery of the provinces that had been torn from him; and from England he repaired to Germany and excited Otho to join and head the confederation that he was organizing against Philip Augustus. Otho needed no pressing; eagerly he consented, and the allies deemed their triumph certain.

King John invaded his lost patrimony, and Prince Lewis with a large portion of the force of France was defending Poitou and Anjou against him, when the Emperor menaced the eastern frontier of the kingdom. Otho’s army, comprising his own Saxons and other northern Germans, the German and French vassals of Countess Joanna, the compatriot vassals of Renaud de Boulogne, and other revolted French nobles, and a considerable body of English under his illegitimate uncle, the Earl of Salisbury, has been variously estimated at 120,000 and 200,000 men, and may perhaps be safely taken at about 150,000. To oppose this host Philip, whose troops were necessarily divided, could bring but very inferior numbers. He indeed summoned both nobles and citizens to aid in defending their assailed country; and the call was the more readily obeyed from his having the year before, a.d. 1213, relieved the kingdom from the evils of an interdict, by obeying the Pope and reconciling himself to the ill-treated Ingeborg. But these armed citizens appear to have been in France of too small account to be noticed in numbering the army; and passing them by, the highest amount at which his force is calculated is 50,000 men.

With this army Philip Augustus, in July 1214, entered Flanders, to chastise his rebellious vassal, ere joined by Otho; who on his part was hurrying forward to meet, and, surrounding, as he hoped, to extinguish the inferior numbers of his old enemy. So far the King of France succeeded, that he had wrought some devastation in the industrious and prosperous French fief before he heard of the excommunicated Emperor’s approach. Then, fearing to engage at such disadvantage, he retreated towards Lille, pursued by Otho, who was so confident as to the result, that he had already parcelled out as much of France as was not the lawful patrimony of his uncle John, between himself, his faithful vassals, and his allies. Near Bouvines, upon the 27th of July, he accomplished the first object of his desires, overtaking the enemy. It is said that Philip Augustus anticipated no attack that day, because it was Sunday. The statement, if correct, is remarkable, since many battles had been fought upon Sundays; one just mentioned by the pious Bishop of Liege against the invaders of his principality : even the more venerated great festivals of the Church were by no means uniformly so respected. The present occasion seems to be the first indication of such religious respect for Sunday, as should prevent the taking fair advantage of an enemy.

However this may be, the French monarch—more likely unaware of the close proximity of the Imperialists—had lain down under an ash tree to sleep whilst his army should be occupied in passing a small stream, called the Marque, when he was roused by information that his rear-guard which had not yet crossed, was attacked by the enemy. The Duke of Burgundy accompanied his unwelcome intelligence with an earnest prayer that the King would preserve a life, so valuable to the country, by retiring to the adjacent strong Castle of Lens, whilst they should fight the now inevitable battle. “That were unkingly,” returned Philip Augustus, who, if not animated with his lion-hearted rival’s disinterested love of fighting, knew how to brave danger when occasion required. “And to whom”, he then asked, “shall I, as to the worthiest, intrust the Oriflamme?” The Duke replied, “I know a stalwart knight, a veteran, but so poor that he has pawned house and land to equip himself for this expedition. To him, Walo, (or according to other writers Galon or Gui,) de Montigny, may the Oriflamme be safely intrusted.’’ The knight was summoned, and the monarch offered him the standard with the words “To thee, friend Walo, I intrust the honour of France.’’ The actually confounded Knight exclaimed: “ What am I, my liege, to undertake such a trust?” The King rejoined: “Thou art a man who, I am assured, fears nothing; and who when, by God’s grace, the victory is ours, shall be amply rewarded.” The Knight bowed, and as he took the standard, replied: “ Since such is your royal will, so be it; and if the Oriflamme thirst for blood, this day shall the thirst be slaked.

Philip Augustus had originally professed to wage this war, as the Champion of the Church, upon two excommunicated monarchs. John’s excommunication had thus been made the pretext for despoiling the English crown of its French provinces; but his relief from that sentence, and readmission into the bosom of the Church, upon his becoming a vassal of the Roman See in the preceding year, had not induced this self-constituted defender of the Papal authority, to desist, at Innocent’s command, from such spoliation. He probably chose to consider the reconciled uncle’s continued intercourse with, and support of, the still refractory and excommunicated nephew’, sufficient sin to render him liable to all the temporal consequences of spiritual contumacy. And that nephew had latterly deepened and redoubled his guilt in the pontifical eyes by threatening to resume all the lands with which his predecessors had endowed the Church; including, upon what ground is not apparent, even those that were gifts of vassal-princes of the Empire. He purposed thus to reduce the clergy of all grades in his dominions to tithes as their sole provision. With the view, perhaps, of stamping this sacred character upon the war, Philip’s next preparation for the impending engagement was to perform his devotions in a small neighbouring church. That done, he proceeded to array his forces, in which operation he shewed great judgment; taking advantage of some marshy ground near Bouvines for the protection of his flanks, he managed in some measure to neutralize Otho’s great numerical superiority.

Otho, on the other hand, displayed his wonted inconsiderate rashness. He threatened Renaud de Boulogne with chains, for traitorously, as he phrased it, dissuading from any attack upon the French, unless they could be taken decidedly at disadvantage. He gave not a thought to guarding his troops from the scorching July sun, which now, in the early afternoon, shone dazzlingly in their faces. And he appears to have formed no plan of operations beyond requiring the Earls of Flanders and Boulogne to bind themselves, as he did, by oath, to direct all their efforts against the person of the French King. Whether he so bound them under the persuasion that the royal general’s death must needs decide the fate of the day—at the battle of Muret both parties have been seen influenced by such an idea—or was actuated solely by rankling animosity, can only be matter of conjecture.

Hence the battle was fought by the Germans without concert, and again more resembles a Homeric battle, than one of modern times. Whilst Otho, with the main body, and Renaud de Boulogne, with the left wing, were wholly intent upon seeking Philip, Ferdinand of Flanders with the right wing was, after some hard fighting, completely routed by the impetuous valour of the French chivalry; and he himself, wounded by de Montigny with the shaft of the standard, and falling half under his slain charger, was taken prisoner. Both monarchs were repeatedly in great danger; Otho’s death or capture being apparently as much the object of the French warriors—though not by previous arrangement—as Philip’s, by imperial command, of the Germans. Philip was dragged off his horse by some German infantry, and only the excellence of his armour,—wherein his assailants could discover neither fault nor joint, which might admit the passage of their weapons—saved his life during the few minutes he remained in their hands, ere rescued and remounted by his own people. Otho, whilst laying about him really like one of the heroes of the Iliad or of mediaeval romance, found his bridle-rein clutched by a French knight, named Pierre de Mauvoisin, who was striving to drag him away captive. A struggle between the Emperor and the Knight ensued, during which Gerard de la Truye hastened to his countryman’s assistance, and dealt a mighty blow on Otho’s breast. The battle axe recoiled from the imperial armour. He aimed a second, which was intercepted by the steed’s head, tossed high in his efforts to release himself from Mauvoisin’s grasp. The wound was mortal, but in the convulsive struggles of his agony, the horse did break loose; when rearing, he turned round, and galloped a short distance before he fell dead upon the ground. That dying effort had carried Otho back amidst his friends, and Graf Horstmann instantly alighting, gave him his own charger. But the accident had borne the semblance of flight; the French exulted, the Germans were dispirited; and before Otho could well show himself remounted, the rout was so complete that, whilst endeavouring to rally his fugitive troops, he was irresistibly swept along with the stream. This appears to be the most, if not the only, plausible account of an otherwise inexplicable flight; Otho being a man of such undoubted courage, as to have been deemed a worthy pupil and emulator of his uncle of the lion’s heart. The Comte de Boulogne fell into the hands of his offended sovereign, much as the Portuguese husband of the Countess of Flanders had been taken.

This was esteemed the greatest battle fought, the victory the most important gained, by the French, since the defeat of the Arabs by Charles Martel. Otho’s loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners, was estimated at 30,000 men; Philip’s, at only 300 : the great slaughter being, as usual, of infantry, cut down unresisting in their flight. The armour of the knights rendering them nearly invulnerable, necessarily diminished the loss of life in battle. Of this the battle of Bouvines offers striking examples, as in the just-described escape of Philip Augustus, and in the following, somewhat unchivalrous, incident. A Brabant knight having dashed forward, shouting: “Death to the French!” was encountered by one Michel des Harmes, who clasped him in his brawny arms, crying Here shall thy insolent tongue find the death thou denouncest to the French.” He held him fast, whilst a second French knight, with one hand forcing back his head, sought an aperture in his armour through which to insinuate his dagger’s point. For awhile the search was as fruitless as in Philip’s case; but at last the juncture of the gorget and breast-plate or shirt of mail disclosed the desired fault, and the offending Brabanter was slain. How many more of his grade fell is doubtful, but amongst the prisoners the victor is reported to have had Palsgrave Henry, five earls—two have been named, and Salisbury was a third—and twenty-five bannerets. His own rebellious vassals of Boulogne and Flanders Philip held to have forfeited their lives,—though the double vassalage of the Earl of Flanders and Hainault, and the rules laid down for the case of war between two liege lords of one vassal might have been supposed to protect the Portuguese from such forfeiture; unless indeed the French King chose to consider the papal excommunication and deposal of the Emperor, as depriving the Imperial vassals who adhered to him of the plea of their duties of vassalage. Death, the lawful doom of one of the two Earls, and, as asserted, of both, was mercifully commuted for life-long imprisonment; and such it proved in the case of Renaud de Boulogne who died in captivity. Not so in Ferdinand’s; but not till he had pined through many weary years, during which Joanna vainly endeavoured to ransom him; indeed, not till after the death of Philip Augustus and his son Lewis VIII, was the Portuguese Peer of France and Prince of the Empire, at length released by the Queen Regent, Blanche, on paying the heavy ransom of 55,000 lb. of silver. The booty made at Bouvines was immense, and amongst it was Otho’s carroccio-fashioned standard. This Philip took to Paris as a trophy; but the Imperial eagle adorning it he sent to Frederic, in token of Heaven’s sanction upon his claim to the Empire.

The battle of Bouvines terminated the war. John of England purchased peace for the sum of 60,000 marks, and obtained the liberty of the Earl of Salisbury, in exchange for a French nobleman of high rank. Otho’s father-in-law, the Duke of Brabant, sought to propitiate the victor by congratulations. Philip, in reply, sent him two letters, the one blank, the other containing merely these words: “As that letter is devoid of writing, so is thy heart of truth.” He nevertheless made peace with him, accepting one of his sons as a hostage for his observing the conditions.

Otho himself seems to have abandoned all further thought of war with France, and took refuge at Cologne; which, like most of the powerful cities, esteeming him, since his re-election, the lawful Emperor, still faithfully adhered to him. At Cologne he was joined by his Empress; but better had it, perhaps, been for him had his Italian mistress persisted in her resolve that he should have no wife unless he conferred that title upon herself. Mary of Brabant is said to have been reckless of expense and of decorum, if not of character, in her pursuit of amusement; and amongst her favourite pastimes ranked high play. The large sums she lost at dice, her general extravagance, and the debts she idly incurred, together with the peculiar unfitness of such conduct under her consort’s circumstances, disgusted the staid burghers of Cologne. Their loyalty cooled, and they now demanded payment of the Empress’s debts, as well as of a good round sum, previously lent Otho, to forward his warlike preparations. Having no means of satisfying their just claims, Otho, about Easter, left Cologne, according to some accounts, under colour of a hunting party, and fled to Brunswick; whither the Empress, escaping from her creditors in the garb of a pilgrim, presently followed him. Other writers state that Cologne, to get rid of annoying guests, no longer positively esteemed imperial, not only forgave the debts of Otho and Mary, but defrayed the expense of their return to Brunswick.

The victory of Philip Augustus had been as decisive for Frederic as for himself, Otho evidently remaining powerless. The Duke of Brabant has been seen endeavouring to conciliate his son-in-law’s foreign enemy, and he now submitted to his compatriot rival, giving him another son, as a hostage for his fidelity. The Duke of Saxony and the Margrave of Brandenburg had been induced by the general aspect of the contest, to renounce Otho and acknowledge the heir of the Swabian dynasty, to which their House was deeply indebted. And Frederic, who had been engaged in subduing individual adherents of his competitors in southern Germany, and holding Diets there for the regulation of local affairs; now convoked a Diet at Frankfort-on-the-Main. It was more numerously attended than any of his had yet been; and he obtained the promise of the assembled Estates to elect his infant son King of the Romans.

The allegiance of Cologne was now avowedly transferred to him, and no further impediment to his descending the Rhine existed. Frederic therefore turned his steps northward, inviting the Princes to attend him to his coronation. Achen, indeed, still professed allegiance to Otho; but, when the heir of her Emperors appeared, threw her gates open to him. And there, in the Cathedral of Charlemagne, upon the 15th of July, 1215, Frederic II was crowned with all due rites and solemnities. Two deviations from established form, nevertheless, unavoidably occurred. The one, that the proper regalia being in Otho’s possession, substitutes for the genuine crown, sceptre, &c., were necessarily employed. The other, that the See of Cologne being vacant—Archbishop Adolf had not survived to enjoy and participate in Ghibeline triumph—the Archbishop of Mainz was the officiating prelate. And thus, at the early age of twenty, had Frederic, victorious over all obstacles, recovered the throne of his ancestors.

Upon the very day of his coronation the young sovereign took the Cross, and his example was followed by many princes, prelates, and nobles. This, certainly precipitate, step, may be presumed to have been less an impulse of enthusiasm, either religious or chivalrous, than the fulfilment of an engagement to his papal ex-guardian, and still important protector. Innocent was then vehemently exhorting Europe to undertake a new crusade for the recovery of Jerusalem, the arrangements for the organization and conduct of which were to be made in the Ecumenic Council, summoned to assemble at the Lateran in the autumn of this same year. To Innocent, Frederic strongly expressed and evidently felt real gratitude, of which he gave him a yet more difficult proof than this rash crusading engagement, made whilst he still had to defend his crown against a competitor. In compliance with another of his requisitions,—the most annoying—he now, in the very exultation of success, sent him a renewal of his promise, to resign the Two Sicilies to his son, when he himself should have received the Imperial crown; thus severing them from Germany and the Empire; and further, for the government of those realms during his son’s minority, to appoint regents such as the Pope should approve.

Whilst the contest for Germany had been in progress, occurred one of the strange incidents peculiarly characterizing the middle ages. This was a Crusade of children! It began in France, where, even during the heat of the Crusade against the Albigenses, Robert de Courçon, an English­man, formerly the school or college friend of Innocent III, at Paris, and now his Legate there, was preaching a Crusade for the recovery of Jerusalem. Though an able man, the preacher was hot-headed, and performed his office after the manner of Peter the Hermit and his enthusiastic associates, giving the Cross to all descriptions of persons, fit and unfit, indiscriminately. His passionate exhortations inflamed all minds, and in 1213, had actually enfrenzied a shepherd boy named Stephen. This lad asserted that the Saviour himself had, in a letter addressed to the King of France, authorized him, Stephen, to preach and lead a Crusade. Children of all ranks and of both sexes, in spite of their parents’ utmost endeavours to restrain them, flocked to this juvenile leader, until he was at the head of 30,000 French boys and girls. From France the mania spread into Germany, where another boy col­lected an army of 7,000 children: amongst whom, however, there are said to have been some adult individuals.

The German division of this parody upon the favourite and—as believed—hallowed enterprise of the epoch, crossed the Alps and reached Genoa, where the discovery that hence the way to Palestine was by sea, for which money was indispensable, put a final stop to the progress of the strange army. Well was it for those who, in whatever station born, there remained as servants to the Italians! The majority, in their opposite attempts, some to proceed, by begging, or trying to steal a passage, others, by retracing their steps, to return home, were plundered and ill used; of the last, moreover, numbers died of heat, hunger, thirst, or fatigue, by the road side. A few only eventually found their way back to Germany, where the males became objects of ridicule, the females of worse, their chastity not being supposed to have survived the perils of such an expedition.

The lot of the French host of juvenile Crusaders was even more disastrous. Headed by Stephen, borne in state in a tapestried waggon, they arrived at Marseilles, where some merchants, professing unbounded admiration of their heroic piety, offered them a gratuitous passage to Palestine. Of course the bewildered children, utterly at a loss how to proceed, gladly accepted both admiration and offer. They are said to have embarked in seven ships, so scanty an allowance of room for 30,000 passengers, of- whatever growth, as to induce a hope that the numbers may be somewhat exaggerated. Of these seven ships two were wrecked off Sardinia, when every, soul on board perished, and those so lost were the least unfortunate  amongst the shepherd boy’s host. For the merchants, whose fair show of disinterested kindness and piety had entrapped the poor children on board their ships, carried their dupes to Africa, where they sold them into Moslem slavery. Slaves being then held to be lawful merchandize, and the ever repeated papal bulls and decrees of Councils, against selling Christians to the Heathen, showing the practice to be common, the crime of these Marseilles merchants, how abominably atrocious soever, is less incredible than, at first sight, it appears. There is reason to hope that these traitorous, kidnapping slave-dealers were afterwards caught and severely punished by Frederic II.