Henry VII’s Journey to rome

The year is 1312 and Henry VII is finally embarking on his journey to Rome that will bring about the first imperial coronation in almost a century and hence the formal end to the Interregnum, the time without emperors.

Becoming emperor is hard enough, but being emperor is even harder, as the first Luxemburger to ascend the throne of Charlemagne will find out. Hope for an end to the never ending civil wars in Italy lay buried under the rotting corpses before Brescia. Henry VII is no longer a unifying figure in Italy, just simply the leader of the Ghibelline faction. And as such he has to tackle the Guelphs led by the commune of Florence and king Robert of Naples. Doing that triggered a domino effect that not only left him dead but also reopened the ancient struggle between the pope and the emperor, now with a new “je ne sais quoi” mixed in. Sounds ominous – come along and find out..

TRANSCRIPT

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 148: Imperial Swansong – the consequences of Henry VII’s campaign in Italy, also Episode 11 of Season 8 The Holy Roman Empire from the Interregnum to the Golden Bull.

The year is 1312 and Henry VII is finally embarking on his journey to Rome that will bring about the first imperial coronation in almost a century and hence the formal end to the Interregnum, the time without emperors.

Becoming emperor is hard enough, but being emperor is even harder, as the first Luxemburger to ascend the throne of Charlemagne will find out. Hope for an end to the never ending civil wars in Italy lay buried under the rotting corpses before Brescia. Henry VII is no longer a unifying figure in Italy, just simply the leader of the Ghibelline faction. And as such he has to tackle the Guelphs led by the commune of Florence and king Robert of Naples. Doing that triggered a domino effect that not only left him dead but also reopened the ancient struggle between the pope and the emperor, now with a new “je ne sais quoi” mixed in. Sounds ominous – come along and find out..

But before we start let me remind you that the history of the Germans podcast is advertising free, a privilege we enjoy thanks to the generosity of our patrons. And you can become a patron too either by signing up at patreon.com/historyofthegermans or by making a one-time donation at historyofthegermans.com/support. And let me thank Martin B., Stephen Wild, Bree P., BrittaDK, Brian J. R. and Colleen D. who have already signed up.

But now back to the show

Last week we left Henry VII in Genoa, severely shaken by the death of his wife the Queen Margarete who had been his support and council throughout his career. Having lost her, his younger brother, the knightly Walram and two thirds of his army, his campaign is now in a sorry state.

His enemies, the alliance of Guelph cities in Tuscany and Romagna, led by Florence, and king Robert of Naples have blocked all possible land routes to Rome. And to Rome is where he needed to go, to be crowned emperor as pope Clement V had promised he would be. 

Still, Genoa received him with all the honors of an emperor. Not only that, they found themselves so riven with conflict that they submitted themselves entirely to the emperor’s control. He was made podesta of the city for 20 years. Henry VII took his mandate of reconciling the warring families of Genoa, the Spinola and the Doria seriously. But however serious one takes these attempts, they are ultimately futile. The conflicts are so deeply entrenched and overlaid with commercial rivalry, they could and did go on for centuries.

Despite his attempts at reconciliation remaining fruitless, he demanded the now customary payment of 60,000 gold coins for the service. Initially the commune agreed, but they soon noticed that there was not much value for money here. Payments came in slowly.

Meanwhile in Lombardy, as one would have expected, the imperial position contracted sharply. Effectively only the della Scala in Verona and the Visconti of Milan stayed loyal to the imperial cause. Henry VII appointed Wernher von Homberg as his representative for Lombardy, gave him as many soldiers as he could spare and asked him to do the impossible and convince the Lombards by whichever means possible to come back into the fold. You may know Wernher von Homberg from the Codex Manesse where he is depicted in one of the most famous images, or you may know him for his role in Swiss history. But in 1312 he works for Henry VII, trying to rustle up some money from the Italian cities. But as it happens whatever funds he managed to extract, he needed to pay his own forces. So, not much money came down to Genoa.

The departure of the count of Homberg reduce the already much diminished imperial army. Those who stayed were far and few between. His brother, archbishop Balduin of Trier, two counts of Flanders, the third had already perished, the bishops of Liege and Geneva and Amadeus of Savoy were his remaining loyal supporters. Many men were still dying from the disease they had picked up during the siege of Brescia. Of the dozens of Lombard noblemen he had ordered to accompany him, only two were still with him, a minor member of the Visconti plus one more, in total adding just a few knights to his forces.

At the same rate as his supporters slipped out of the camp did the creditors filled his hall demanding payment. But money there was none. Moreover the Genoese also noticed that since the arrival of the emperor and his men, mortality had gone through the roof. Whatever that disease was that had bred before Brescia now infected the Genoese. Not only were they dying, they also lost trade as the the Guephs in Tuscany and southern Italy had declared an embargo.

By Christmas 1311, Henry VII had outstayed his welcome. Time to move on..

The only ally that could help him to get to Rome was Pisa. Pisa had been the staunchest supporter of the Hohenstaufen and had remained unwaveringly Ghibeline all the way through the Interregnum. To Pisa he would now head.

In the early 14^th century Pisa found itself in a difficult position. They had always been in close competition with the other maritime republic on Italy’s western shore, Genova. But as the city of Florence went from strength to strength, they now fought a war on two fronts. And it was a war the Pisans were not winning. In 1284 Genoa had inflicted a near fatal defeat on the Pisan fleet. The wars with Florence did not go any better though so far a major defeat had been avoided.

Pisa therefore put all its hopes into the emperor Henry VII who they firmly believed had come to reverse their fortunes and smash their enemies. Hence, they were happy to send galleys to Genova to pick the emperor up and bring him into the city of the already leaning tower.

Henry VII stayed in Pisa until April 1312. His fortunes are brightening up a little bit. His camp is filling up again, this time with the exiles and disaffected of Tuscany who have been thrown out of their cities, either as Ghibellines or as White Guelphs. Even some German nobles, notably Robert duke of Bavaria and Count Palatinate on the Rhine joined. Pisa, sensing that the final struggle was upon them prove willing to bear the taxes and costs of an imperial court in their city much more graciously than the Milanese and the Genovese had been.

This may have been good news for our Luxemburgian hero, news from Rome were however much less promising. Rome, and you must be tired of hearing this by now, but Rome like all the other Italian cities was split between two families, one claiming to be Guelphs and the other to be Ghibellines. The Ghibellines were the Colonna, you remember, Sciarra Colonna, the guy who allegedly slapped pope Boniface VIII. The Guelphs were the Orsini, the bears.

Both families still exist and the Colonna palace in Rome can be visited, something I would advise anyone travelling to the Holy city to do. A complete rabbit warren of room after room filled with art and ancient trinkets. And guess what, not a single reference to Sciarra Colonna or the events we are recounting now. The Colonna did regain their love for the papacy, put one of their own on the seat of St. Peter and forgot about their pope slapping ancestor…honi soit qui mal y pense.

But in 1312 the Colonna were very much in the imperial camp fighting the Orsini whenever an opportunity presented itself.

Initially this rivalry between the Colonna and Orsini would not have been a significant issue for Henry VII’s coronation. After all, Henry VII was travelling with papal blessing and had 3 cardinals in his retinue. So even the Orsini, as Guelphs loyal servants of pope Clement V should be opening the gates of the Holy city to the emperor elect.

But something had happened in the meantime. King Robert of Naples had sent an army under the command of his youngest son into Rome to occupy key strategic positions, including the traditional site of the coronation, St. Peters. Asked what he intended with the move, Robert’s ambassadors said they had only come to show their reverence for the king of the Romans and wanted to make sure everything was shipshape and Bristol Fashion for the great event.

Ha Hmmm….way back when Henry had still been in Genoa, Robert had sent a delegation to negotiate some sort of agreement, if not a marriage alliance with future emperor. But that discussion led nowhere. And as soon as the representatives of Naples had left, a delegation from Frederick, the King of Sicily had shown up in Henry’s camp.

Give us a break, do we not have enough names in this episode? Who is the king of Sicily now? Well, the kingdom of Sicily under the Normans and the Hohenstaufen contained both the island of Sicily and the Southern Italian mainland. But in 1282 Charles of Anjou, the ruthless conqueror of the kingdom and killer of young Konradin of Hohenstaufen lost the island of Sicily in a bloody uprising that came to be known as the Sicilian Vespers (episode 93 if you are interested). Ever since the old Norman kingdom of Sicily was now divided into the kingdom of the island of Sicily, ruled by members of the Spanish dynasty of the House of Aragon and descendants of emperor Frederick II, whilst the mainland became known as the kingdom of Naples even though its rulers also called themselves kings of Sicily. This kingdom of Naples was ruled by Charles’ descendants, the Anjou, cousins of the kings of France. You can imagine that relations between these two kings of Sicily were a touch frosty. So as soon as Frederick of the island of Sicily realized that Henry VII could get friendly with his rival in Naples, he sent him a table made from solid silver and declarations of eternal loyalty to the imperial cause.

A solid silver table is hard to hide and in particular not if Henry VII sold it immediately to pay his creditors. The news of the generous present reached Robert of Naples and his position hardened against Henry VII, hence there are now Neapolitan soldiers in Rome. At which point Henry sent one of his allies to take charge of the senate of Rome and his allies in the city.

Once Herny had reached Pisa and it became clear that the Ghibellines of Tuscany lent him their support, the positions toughened further. The alliance of Naples and the Guelph cities declared in early April that their main objective was now to prevent the coronation of Henry VII in Rome.

To achieve that objective an anti—imperial force began congregating in Rome. Florence sent 200 knights, king Roberts marshal brought a further 300 armored riders plus a 1000 infantry, Lucca sent 300 cavalry and another 1000 foot soldiers, Siena 200 horse and 600 on foot. By May 21^st the Guelph army had assembled in the Holy City and occupied the key strongholds, the Capitoline Hill, the Castel Sant Angelo, St. Peter and the Vatican. In turn the Colonna, the supporters of Henry VII fortified their positions around the Lateran Palace, the Colosseum, Santa Maria Maggiore and Santa Sabina.  

Everything was now building up to a final showdown – the battle for the imperial crown was to be fought inside the city of Rome.  

Meanwhile Henry VII had followed the coastline down from Pisa until he reached the territory of Siena. The Sienese had sent much of their forces down to Rome and the remaining soldiers inside the city was too disunited to dare an attack. Henry was able to pass through Tuscany with his modest force of just 400 men unopposed. He reached Viterbo on May 1^st, 1312 and shortly afterwards appeared before Rome. He entered the city by fighting his way across the famous Milvian bridge where Constantine fought the famous battle against Maxentius that led to his conversion to Christianity. This initial clash was of a much smaller scale and of much less theological significance.

Henry was now inside Rome and the population of the neighborhoods controlled by the Colonna received him enthusiastically.  He took up residence in the Lateran palace and the next day convened a council of war. The imperial position on the left bank of the Tiber was strong and solid, but what he needed was access to Saint Peters on the other side of the River. St. Peter was the coronation church of the emperors and that was the church the cardinals insisted they needed to perform a valid coronation.

The only way to get there was by urban combat to first get to the Tiber bridge and then across the bridge, past Castel Sant Angelo, the former mausoleum of the emperor Hadrian and Rome’s most preeminent defensive structure and then uphill to the Vatican.

Over the next month the skirmishes between the imperial forces and the Guelphs turned the center of Rome into a slaughterhouse. The imperial forces had to break one fortified townhouse after the other. Some, like the Torre delle Milizie the largest medieval tower that stands above Trajan’s forum was taken by hijacking the brother of its defender, others, like the Capitoline Hill had to be broken into by force. Often the soldiers, unfamiliar with the warren of streets in Rome lost contact with the main force and were killed on the spot.

Finally the imperial forces had broken through and stood before the bridge that leads to the Castello di Sant Angelo. The bishop of Liege, Henry’s cousin and a great warrior attacked the bridge defenses and almost got through. What he failed to notice was that the enemy had gathered forces out of the way in the Campo dei Fiori who broke forth attacking his flank. Henry then brought more of his forces to bear to relieve his cousin, as did the Neapolitans and the Orsini. Soon a full on battle involving the entirety of two armies raged inside the densely populated city quarter around the bridge of Sant Angelo. Not a battle in the conventional sense, but a huge fight man against man, as Giorgio Vilani wrote, a combat without a plan or any kind of structure. Everyone hit out at the enemy at whichever spot fate had put him. This melee lasted for hours before Henry VII finally called for a retreat. The bishop of Liege was captured and whilst he was led away unarmed to the Guelph positions, one of the soldiers of the king of Naples who had lost his brother in the fighting plunged his sword into the bishop’s stomach. He was brought into the Castel St. Angelo where he died shortly afterwards.

Henry and his council concluded that despite their success in clearing the Guelphs from their side of the Tiber, taking the Castello di Sant Angelo and the Vatican was simply impossible. The enemy was strong and their defenses even stronger. And the emperor was at a huge strategic disadvantage. For the Guelphs to achieve their objective of preventing an imperial coronation, all they had to do was to block the way to St. Peter and they could do that from their near impregnable castle on the bridge, whilst Henry VII had to attack these fortresses in the open, a process even if it were achievable, incredibly costly in terms of men and material.

The only way to still effect a coronation was therefore to change the venue. If the cardinals were willing to crown the emperor elsewhere, for instance in the Lateran Basilica, a church the emperor Constantine had built for the bishops of Rome around the same as time St. Peters and almost equal in size, that would reduce the enemy’s advantage to nought. Henry’s legal team wrote a learned treatise arguing a coronation in the Lateran church was a viable option under both canon and imperial law. And they presented their proposal to the three cardinals.

The cardinals who had taken residence in the Torre delle Milizie did not concur. They insisted on St. Peter as the only suitable location for a coronation. All they offered was to write to the Orsini and the Neapolitans demanding, in the name of pope Clement V, that they cease hostilities and make St. Peters available for the coronation. Response to that came none. The cardinals then wrote to pope Clement V asking him to tell the Guelphs to please respond to the letter. Even assuming a letter from Clement V would have an effect, that letter would take weeks to get to Avignon and then weeks to come back. When Henry VII demanded what they should do in the meantime, and the answer was, no St. Peters no imperial crown.

Meanwhile the vicious street fighting continued all across Rome, very much to the annoyance of the population. How were they supposed to live a normal life when they risk getting stabbed every time they leave the house.

The people of Rome congregated in the square below the Capitol to ask exactly this question, and one of Henry’s loyal supporter, Niccolo de Buonsignori laid it out for them. The enemy positions are far too strong to be taken by force. The Guelphs, though allegedly loyal to the pope had refused to even answer the demands of the cardinals and therefore the demands of the Holy Father to let the coronation proceed. The cardinals were refusing to crown the emperor anywhere else but St. Peters. This now requires unusual measures, namely that everyone who had so far not declared for the emperor will be called to the eagle standards and those who refuse will experience the wrath of war.

This announcement did not result in either a huge influx of support for Henry or disaffection of the populace with the draconian measure. Instead, the anger of the people was directed against the cardinals. After Henry had made several further attempts at swaying the prelates’ mind, the populace had enough. They gathered under the tower of the Milizii and threatened to kill the cardinals should they continue to refuse the coronation. Afraid for their lives the cardinals relented.

On June 29^th, 1312 finally after 18 months of toiling in Italy did Henry the VII, King of the Romans and duly elected emperor clad in white robes and with long flowing hair proceed from the Aventine to St. John Lateran. During the solemn mass the cardinal bishop of Ostia placed first a white miter and then the imperial diadem on the kneeling king’s head. Before receiving both the orb and the scepter, Henry VII rose up, unsheathed his sword and swung it three times over his head before laying it down on the alter together with his shield as a sign of his commitment to defend the church.

Proceedings completed the now emperor Henry VII and his court sat down for a splendid dinner in the Lateran palace whilst the people of Rome were treated to free drink and food followed by lusty dancing.

But halfway through the festivities, the new emperor was reminded of the fragility of his situation. His enemies had taken the opportunity whilst the imperials were at church to capture the Aventine hill and from there shot arrows and stones at the Lateran palace, forcing everyone indoors.

Over the following days the imperial position in Rome became completely untenable. With the coronation achieved, the German vassals’ service had come to an end. And it was the end of June. Already did the heat and the accompanying diseases affected Henry’s forces. The Guelphs and Neapolitans kept receiving reinforcements whilst his army dwindled.

With many of his German followers leaving, Henry became more and more dependent on his Tuscan supporters, the Ghibelline cities and the exiles from the Guelph cities. His followers in Lombardy, the Visconti and the della Scala are engaged in what is increasingly a war of conquest against Padova, Brescia, Cremona etc. They may occasionally seek support from Wernher of Homberg, the imperial governor of Northern Italy, but they are basically doing their own thing.

Any pretense that he would be reconciling the divisions in Italy is now gone. So it is somewhat unclear what his plans are now. He has gained the imperial crown, the original reason for his journey. So he could take his remaining supporters and return home. And going home would make some sense. His son John has acquired the Bohemian crown but only just. A bit of parental/imperial support would therefore not have gone amiss.

But he did not go home. It may have been a combination of demands from his allies, the lure of the riches of Italy, and/or the sense that his rather underwhelming coronation had left him with an urge to take revenge. Who knows.

As he looked around, the enemy that had thwarted his plans and has been responsible for the stiff resistance in Italy were two, the Black Guelphs who ruled Florence and king Robert of Naples. And its they he wanted to go after now. As it happened, these were the same people his Italian allies were keenest to go after as well.

Going after Robert of Naples was politically difficult. Robert of Naples was a cousin of the French King Philip the Handsome who had initially been one of Henry’s supporters but has cooled considerably towards his former protégé. But more importantly, Robert of Naples was a vassal of pope Clement V and the Holy Father would get into a most unholy rage should Henry head down to Naples. So Florence it was.

Henry VII first retreated to Tivoli to maintain the pretense that he had not cowardly fled Rome as the Orsini, Florentines and Neapolitans were encroaching on his position. But he did not stay long. In August he headed into Tuscany, collecting followers in the fiercely Ghibelline city of Arezzo and on September 19^th began a siege of Florence.

As we said last week, in the Middle Ages, before canons could be used to break walls, an attack on a city could only be successful if the besieging army surprises the defenders and breaks the gates before defenses can be brought in position. And since Henry VII had moved much faster than anyone expected he could have been successful had he maintained more discipline in his ranks. But his largely unpaid soldiers ransacked the farms and villages along the way. The Florentines, seeing the smoke of the burning farmsteads realized that the enemy was on its way, closed the gates and armed themselves. Though a large part of their Army had been attacked and nearly overwhelmed on their way back from Rome they could still muster enough forces to man the gates. Over the subsequent days the Florentine army returned and the other Guelph cities sent reinforcements. In the end the defenders had an army of 4000 knights and several thousand infantry whilst Henry’s force outside the walls counted just 1,800 armored riders. This discrepancy in numbers and the brand new fortifications of Florence turned the siege into a farce. Henry’s army blocked just one gate of the city, whilst the others remained open and trade in and out of the city continued as if there was no war at all.

Whether it was the stress of the preceding months or the climate, Henry VII fell ill. This time he recovered and – realizing that his attack on Florence was futile – withdrew first to San Casciano, then to Poggibonsi. In Poggibonsi he was surrounded by enemies, in Florence and Siena and then two Neapolitan forces, one in San Gimignano and one in Colle di Val d’Elsa. Another blow was that one of the three counts of Flanders, who had been by the side of the emperor since the beginning and who had lost one of his brothers on the campaign had enough, took his remaining vassals and left for home. As the situation went from bad to dire, he abandoned Poggibonsi and his much diminished army fought their way back to Pisa.

In Pisa, loyal to the last did Henry VII get the chance to regroup and to weigh his options.

The attack on Florence had been a failure, but it was noticeable that though the forces inside Florence had been vastly superior, they never mounted a serious attack on the imperial camp. Nor did they rout him when he was stuck in Poggibonsi. The only conceivable reason for that was the inherent fragility of these city governments. Sure the Guelph leadership could gain a majority for a policy of sending Henry back home, but they would have found it difficult to justify defeating and even killing the emperor. That would have been a step too far for the pro-imperial factions that still existed, even in the staunchly Guelph Florence.

Equally, a policy to wipe out the Guelphs in the cities as he had attempted on occasion in Lombardy had failed for the same reasons. Removing the heads of the Guelphs still left a Guelph faction behind in the city that would rise up as soon as the imperial army had left.

So the way out of the stalemate was to finally go after the true dominant power in Italy, king Robert of Naples.

Up until now Henry had hesitated to go after king Robert because he did not want to jeopardize his relationship with pope Clement V. Clemen V had been crucial in him gaining the election as King of the Romans in defiance of king Philip IV of France and his invitation to be crowned in Rome had been a precondition for his journey. Now Clement V might have liked Henry on a personal level, but that had not been the reason he supported Henry VII. What Clement V wanted was to gain some independence from the French crown. Though he no longer resided on French territory but had moved to Avignon, technically outside France and a papal fief, the French army sat on the opposite shore of the Rhone, ready to seize the successor to St. Peter if the need arose.

His ultimate escape route from French control had been a return to Rome. That may explain why the cardinals kept insisting that Henry should take St. Peter. Not so much for some spiritual reasons, but because they wanted Rome to be safe for a papal return. When Henry VII’s attempt to gain control of Rome failed, Clement V had become a de facto prisoner in Avignon.

Clement had already made huge concessions to Philip IV when he allowed him to suppress the order of the templars and seize their property, which after all was church property. But he had still clung to the hope that Henry could gain him Rome and a return ticket. By December 1312 that ticket had expired.

At the same rate as Clement V fell under French control did Henry VII confidence in the pope diminish. He had asked Clement V to excommunicate king Robert for Naples for opposing the coronation, but Clement had refused, or more precisely had not dared to do that to the cousin of the French king.

Therefore when in December 1312, Henry was weighing his options, he no longer felt that he need to make concessions to the pope. Robert of Naples may a papal vassal and an attack on him would be an attack on the pope, but then the pope had been dragged into the enemy camp anyway. Plus, unless he unseated Robert of Naples, there was no chance to ever gain a sustainable position in Italy, and for whatever reason, that is what he wanted.

As a first step Henry VII in his role as emperor formally convicted king Robert of Naples of high treason and seized his imperial fiefs, the kingdom of Naples and the county of Provence. Henry also entered into an alliance with king Frederick of Sicily, the arch enemy of the Anjou and grandson of emperor Frederick II.

Throughout the spring and summer of 1313 he gathered a huge force. Pisa was pulling out all the stops, hiring mercenaries and providing their own men. Genoa sent a fleet. Even from Germany reinforcements arrived, drummed up by Herny’s brother Balduin, the archbishop of Trier who had also gone home. Meanwhile king Frederick of Sicily was putting together an invasion force that would attack the kingdom of Naples from the south.

Historians have been in two minds about the probability of success. The traditional view was that this was utter folly. The force though sizeable, was much smaller than the armies Robert could raise. Plus Naples had a wide network of allies and supporters across Italy that could tie up the imperial troops on their way south.  Others argue that the Anjou were seen as hated foreign, aka French, occupiers and that for instance the city of Naples had invited Henry to come south and rid them of this troublesome king.

Whether or not he had a chance we will never know. Because Henry VII, on his way through Tuscany fell ill in the small town of Buonconvento eight miles from Siena, either another bout of the Brescia disease, a heart attack or simple total exhaustion put an end to all his plans.

Hearing about his demise the army dissolved. The king of Sicily abandoned his invasion of Calabria that had already captured Reggio and the Pisan knights brought the body of the first emperor in 60 years back to their city.

It is in Pisa that he still lies, in a magnificent funerary monument. This monument by the sculptor Tino de Camaino is another remarkable work of this period of transition from medieval to renaissance art. If you want to see it and you happen not to get to Pisa any time soon, you can go to see it at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Not the real thing of course, after all the British did not manage to steal everything. But of the stuff they could not steal, like say Trajan’s column,  Michelangelo’s David or the Brunswick Lion, they created  casts and those are kept in the Cast Court of the V&A which looks like the world’s attic. And there, in a corner behind Giovanni and Nicolo Pisano’s masterful pulpits can you find our friend Herny VII. Few people stop to look at him and even fewer know who he was and what he did.

And despite his ultimate failure, he did play a hugely important role in the European history. His journey to Italy became the catalyst for a whole host of events.

Following his demise, the Italian political landscape consolidated at breakneck speed. The distinction between Guelphs and Ghibellines disappeared. Instead most cities ceased to be republics but came under the explicit or implicit rule of just one family, with notable exceptions like Venice. And some of these rulers like the Visconti, the Della Scala, Este and Gonzaga consolidated the surrounding cities into territorial principalities that would later become duchies, preventing a unification of Italy until the 19^th century.

Whilst this process was almost inevitable given the levels of infighting and fragility in the Italian system, other outcomes were less predictable.  One thing I have already mentioned. The papacy becoming a permanent vassal of the French crown.

And that fundamentally changed the relationship between what we call today Germany and France. Up until the late 13^th century France and the empire enjoyed mostly friendly neighborly relations and as you may remember France rarely featured in our narrative so far. The main conflict of the medieval emperors had with the papacy and the Italian cities. Once the popes moved to Avignon and had come under French control, that old conflict was inherited by the French kings. Whilst Italy fades from view for the emperors, the Franco-German relationship, often positive and even more often violent became one of the key axes of German history culminating in the two world wars and then the reconciliation after 1945.

Talking about the world wars, I have another podcast recommendation for you. There is a new World War I podcast out there called “Not so quiet on the Western front”.  Yes, there are several of these, but even I, as someone with only tangential interest in military history, have been gripped by Dan and Spence’s tales. Trained military historians both, they know their stuff. Where the rubber hits the road is when they dive into the various technologies of war and the speed of innovation the war forced into being. So far, my favorite episode is the one about Zeppelins. They describe how in 1915 they were almost invincible and rained terror on British cities, before rapid improvements in technology turned them into exploding deathtraps for their crews. For those soldiers who travelled strapped onto the roof of the Zeppelin with their machine guns, there was literally zero chance of survival. Gripping stuff. Not so Quiet on the Western Front is available wherever you get the History of the Germans from. I also have put a link in the show notes.

Next week we will look at another one of these often overlooked emperors, Ludwig the Bavarian, sponsor to William of Ockham of razor’s fame and the background though never mentioned of Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose. I hope you will join us again.

Henry VII’s Big Mistake

Henry VII had gained control of most of Northern Italy in less than three months. It will take him 9 months to lose it all again. How did he go from bringer of peace and justice and all out savior of Italy to brutal conqueror and godless tyrant? Let’s find out.

TRANSCRIPT

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 147 – Brescia or Bust – Henry VII’s big mistake, part of season 8 of the podcast.

Henry VII had gained control of most of Northern Italy in less than three months. It will take him 9 months to lose it all again. How did he go from bringer of peace and justice and all out savior of Italy to brutal conqueror and godless tyrant? Let’s find out.

But before we start let me tell you that the History of the Germans Podcast is advertising free thanks to the generosity of our patrons. And you can become a patron too by signing up on patreon.com/historyofthegermans or by making a one-time donation at historyofthegermans.com/support. And let me thank Harrison HotG, Kenny T., Johnny T., Marco Y., Bill C. who have already signed up. And a special thanks to patron Klaus S. who made my day when he told me he had met a fellow listener at a party and had a full geek out about German medieval history. That is what it is all about! Thank you all.

Now back to the show

Last week we left Henry VII at his coronation as King of Italy in Milan. Within mere months he had tamed the fractious Italian peninsula, returned the exiles to their cities and had brought peace and justice. He and his beautiful and clever wife Margarete can now look forward to a triumphal journey to the eternal city where pope Clement V will be eagerly waiting to crown the “Hectorian shepherd who holds the rod of temporal correction” as the always enthusiastic Dante called him.

All that happened and they lived happily ever after – the end.

Nah, I am afraid there will now be 30 minutes of betrayal, gratuitous violence, disease and impossible political conundrums before the “shining roman prince” has become the “mugger who brings ruin to the Italian communes”.

Inauspicious omens had already appeared when the desperate search for the venerable crown of the Lombards turned up empty handed leaving the future emperor wearing a hastily fabricated replacement.

But doom builds up slowly – and so the day after the great coronation feast all the leaders of the Lombards gathered in the presence of their king, praising him. At which point Henry’s right hand man and now imperial vicar of Milan, Niccolo de Buonsignori brings up the topic of a suitable present to be given in honor of the new king. Everyone present knew that what he meant by present wasn’t some jewel encrusted ceremonial sword or robe made from silk or cloth of gold. No, this was one of those cash only presents that involved only a modicum of voluntary giving. Think dark suit, husky voice and dead fish in the post.

The Milanese got the hint and after a brief exchange of views they designated Guglielmo Pusterla to determine the size of a the present. And Guglielmo sets the sum at 50,000 gold florin, a generous offer, but not overly so. Seeking even more favor with the emperor, Matteo Visconti then jumps up and demands a further 10,000 for the empress. All very noble and chivalric. Guido della Torre is not best pleased about the whole process and comments cynically, why not 100,000 Gold florin then? That was clearly a cynical aside, not a serious proposal. Still the imperial notary recorded that the city of Milan was offering a present of 100,000 Gold florin as a present to the emperor.

A gold florin contained 3.5grams of gold, which at today, 7^th of Mai 2024 prices equates to $260, i.e., we are talking about $26 million dollars in today’s money. This was more than the King of Bohemia, the richest of the Imperial princes collected in a year from his lands, which as we know contained some of the most abundant silver and gold mines in Europe. It was also 10 times what the imperial lands in Germany generated for the crown.

In other words, it was a colossal sum, but still not enough. Similar demands were sent to the other Northern Italian cities that had submitted to the emperor. Padova for instance was asked to make a one-time contribution of 60,000 gold coins and an annual tax of 15,000 gold coins plus quarterly 5,000 gold coins to pay for the army of the imperial vicar.

War was and still is the most expensive of human endeavors. And by the 14^th century warfare had become a lot more costly than during the times of the Hihenstaufen. Vassals fighting under feudal obligations had become a smaller and smaller part of the armies. Mercenaries were now the norm, in particular in Italy where the fighting aristocracy was in the decline and the merchants, bankers and artisans had other things to do than spending their time banging swords on the enemy helmets.

Where was this money supposed to come from? 100,000 Gold Florins was far too much for a simple whip-round amongst the great Milanese families. This kind of expenditure required the city council to raise taxes. At that stage, taxation inside the cities was introduced on an ad hoc basis to fund either war or major public works. One of the reasons Henry VII was so enthusiastically received in Italy was his promise to put an end to the endless wars between the various cities. And end of war meant first and foremost no more war taxes to fund these conflicts.

So one can imagine how disappointed the population was when they heard that the longed for reign of peace and justice would kick off with a huge special tax funding not the defense of the city, but an imperial campaign to go god knows where. All across Northern Italy did “one hear people cursing the emperor on the market square, in the churches and in the streets. As the chronicler Albertus Mussatus wrote.

Henry VII tried to calm things down by lowering the total sum owed to 50,000 gold florin. But then he made things worse again when he demanded that 50 of the most senior members of the city elites should accompany him to his imperial coronation in Rome, including Guido della Torre and Matteo Visconto. Now it would be rude to call the imperial hospitality hostage taking, but then the citizens of Milan were saying much ruder things about the policies of king Henry VII.

Rumors of the imperial luster dulling quickly reached the ears of Guido della Torre, the now ex-signore of Milan. But there was nothing to do about it as long as his sworn enemies the dreaded Visconti supported the imperial camp.  It was with mixed feelings when he received an invitation for a secret meeting with the Visconti in a monastery outside town. Given the quite justified fear that he may end up dead on the church floor, Guido della Torre sent his son to meet up with the Visconti who were represented by Matteo’s son Galeazzo. Nobody knows what happened at this meeting. According to Vilani, Galeazzo complained to the della Torre that they had enough of the harsh imperial rule and that they would much rather live under the regime of the della Torre. Hence the two families should bury the hatchet, agree a marriage alliance and throw the emperor and his rowdy soldiers out of Milan. That went down like honey with the della Torre and they began planning for a great uprising.

The date was set for the 12^th of February, 1311. The della Torre had been gathering their supporters for several days and as morning broke saddled their horses and put on their armor. Meanwhile the imperial forces, aware that something was going on, had taken to patrolling the streets day and night. One of these patrols noted a gathering of 30 armed men outside the house of the Della Torre. The della Torre instantly set upon the patrol even though they had not finished their preparations. The leader of the patrol, duke Leopold of Austria and his men escaped but were able to alert the rest of the imperial forces. It was quickly established that the epicenter of the uprising was in the della Torre quarter. That is where the forces then attacked and they fairly rapidly overwhelmed the della Torre. The Visconti were nowhere to be seen. Matteo Visconti had gone to see the emperor as soon as the disturbance had begun and offered his help to put down the uprising. His son Galeazzo had finally left his house with some of his retinue to see where the wind was blowing. Upon realization that the della Torre had lost, he and his men participated in hunting down the remaining Guelphs. The della Torres, Guido and his two sons fled from Milan.

This was a failed uprising that could have been dealt with fairly easily. Declare the della Torre a disgruntled bad apple amongst the Guelph and continue with the general plan of appearing as a just and impartial ruler, prince of peace etc. But no. The imperial army was let loose and began a three day long sack of Milan’s Guelphs. They raided and then burned down the houses of prominent Guelph families, including the houses of the della Torre. All the cash they could find was either stolen or contributed to the imperial war chest. Only once the fury of the soldiers had burned out did Henry VII order an end to the violence.

The Visconti’s role in all that was doubtful to say the least, but Henry VII who had initially exiled them called them back shortly after the massacre and made them imperial vicars of Milan. It is from this point forward that the Visconti ruled Milan, eventually rising to dukes of Milan.

But for Henry VII this uprising had a much less beneficial outcome. His public relations image had been severely damaged. The della Torre who had escaped to Cremona reported their ordeal to the broadly Guelph cities of Lombardy. They accused Henry VII. He wasn’t the bringer of peace and justice as he claimed. All that was just a smokescreen hiding a Ghibelline takeover intended to bring about imperial tyranny.

As more and more Guelph refugees arrived from Milan and tales of the Teutonic Fury made the rounds, Crema, Cremona, Lodi, Brecia and Bergamo came round to the della Torre view. They ejected first the Ghibellines who had only recently returned under the imperial reconciliation policy and then also sent the imperial vicars packing.

As news of the breakaway of the Lombard cities spread across Italy, imperial power crumbled.  Padova which had just submitted to the emperor now refused his demands for cash. In several of the cities of the Romagna the Ghibellines and the vicars were ousted.

Henry VII needed to do something about that and quickly. He sent out two emissaries. One was Antonio di Fissiraga previously the ruler of Lodi, Crema and Cremona who was supposed to be good cop and promise cities who returned to the imperial fold forgiveness, whilst Amadeus of Savoy was the bad cop, sent out with an army to devastate the lands around the cities.

This policy of harassment and promised mercy did work. Lodi and Crema quickly bowed down and were forgiven. Cremona, the largest of these three hesitated a bit, but when Henry VII approached in person, they threw out their hardcore Guelph leadership and replaced him with moderate Guelphs and Ghibellines. This new city council now came out to submit to the king and accept whatever punishment he would find appropriate.

What happened next would fall into the category of: “It was worse than a crime, it was a blunder”.

Henry VII had the burghers of Cremona who had thrown out the rebels and just submitted to the emperor, thrown in jail. Then he entered Cremona and ordered all fortifications as well as all the towers in the city torn down. The city was fined 100,000 Gold florin. All of Cremona’s ancient rights and privileges were rescinded and their Contado, the land surrounding the city was given away to others.

The harsh treatment of Cremona showed the Italians another side of this prince of peace. Could the brutality in Milan be attributed to his lieutenants or be described as a not uncommon loss of control over the soldiers in the army, the suppression of the commune of Cremona was unquestionably an act of the emperor elect himself.

Why he did that is as so often not clear. One reason may have been that he felt that he needed to assert his authority as ruler of the empire. And since he had already brought Crema and Lodi back under control, he felt he now had the leeway to make Cremona an example of what happens to defectors.

Another theory is that Henry VII himself realized that his policy of peace and reconciliation was ultimately flawed. Italian politics were too convoluted and the leading families too focused on the grand prize to actually settle into a co-operative system of government. Therefore he might have reverted to the previous Hohenstaufen policy of leading the Ghibellines in their fight to wipe out the Guelphs.

Whether or not he had changed his overall policy, his heavy handed approach worked, at least initially. Several of the cities that had just broken away returned to the imperial fold. Those that still hesitated like Padova were shown the error of their ways. To subdue Padova, Henry VII handed Vicenza, which at that point was a commune dependent on Padova to CanGrande della Scala, the signore of Verona. Padova immediately changed tack and sent an embassy to Henry, submitting to his mercy and offering to pay vast amounts of money if Vicenza was to be returned to them.

Whilst most cities in Lombardy relented, there was one, Brescia, where the situation was more difficult. Originally a Ghibelline city, the latest incarnation of that party had made themselves unbearable to the populace. Therefore Henry VII had put Tebaldo Brusato, a Guelph in charge of Brescia. The Ghibellines revolted against Tebaldo, failed to overthrow him and their leaders were imprisoned. And once the Milan uprising had begun, Brescia had joined the other Lombard cities in their defection from the imperial cause.

Henry VII now demanded the city returns under his absolute control and that these Ghibelline prisoners are released. As a gesture of goodwill Tebaldo had the prisoners smuggled out of town. But surrender to the imperial mercy wasn’t something the citizens of Brescia were prepared to accept. They had heard what had happened to the Cremonese and they were not keen to be subjected to a similar treatment.

They did offer however to come back under imperial control if the emperor would promise that the Ghibelline Maggi family would never be allowed back in the city and presumably a couple of the things about ancient rights and privileges, city walls, fines and the like.

We are now reaching the crucial juncture in Henry VII’s journey to Rome.

At this point Henry has a very sizeable army made up of troops from Germany and the western, French speaking parts of the empire as well as Lombard supporters from Milan and Verona as well as mercenary troops paid for with all the fines and presents he had received from the various cities. After his initial success many German nobles had come down in the hope of seizing some of the riches of Italy that seem to be so easily obtainable.

Pope Clement V had sent him three cardinals authorized to perform the coronation at any time of his choosing should the pope himself not be around to do it himself. If you remember, this imperial coronation was the whole point of the undertaking in the first place.

On the road to Rome lay Florence, the center of Guelph resistance to his rule. The most powerful of the Tuscan cities had opposed Henry right from the beginning of the campaign. Florence had formed an alliance with Bologna and then with king Robert of Naples to block the imperial army’s progress.

That was a bold move on their part. We know from Giorgio Vilani that at this time the city of Florence had no viable defenses. The city had grown so fast, the original walls were now half way inside the city. A complete new ring of walls and towers needed to be erected should an imperial attack be repelled. Ever since the autumn of 1310 the citizens of Florence had therefore been working day and night digging trenches and building walls and towers around their city. By the time Henry VII had subjugated Cremona and was considering to go after Brescia the work has not yet been finished. There were gaps in the fortifications that his army could break through with comparative ease.

Moreover, Italian politics were so fragile that the Florentines could not be certain that their Tuscan allies, Lucca, Siena, Pistoia, Volterra and the cities of the Romagna would really stand with them should the imperial force appear. There were still Ghibelline factions within each of these cities and even some of the Guelphs may prefer peace with the empire should Florence look as if it was to fall.

Henry VII must choose. Either he could accept Brescia’s conditions of surrender, play the magnanimous emperor and then turn south to face his real opponents. Or he could push on to Brescia, break their resistance and make clear to the Italians that his peace and reconciliation came at the cost of total submission.

Henry VII chose absolute power and therefore he chose Brescia. And that was more than a mistake, it was the compounding of a mistake. As the Florentine Giovanni Vilani reported with huge relief: quote “And indeed, if he had refrained from besieging Brescia at that time and had turned against Tuscany, he would have conquered Bologna, Florence, Lucca, and Siena, and then Rome and the kingdom of Apulia and all the lands hostile with absolute ease, for nowhere was anyone armed and prepared, and the attitude of the people was wavering, for the emperor had the reputation of being a just and gentle ruler. But it pleased God that he should move before the city of Brescia, and the struggle against it, as we shall see, caused him a great loss of men and power by means of great pestilences and deadly diseases. unquote.

Brescia it was and as the great army of the king of the Romans moved towards the city, first signs of what awaited them could be seen all around. Unlike Cremona, Brescia had used the last months to prepare for a siege. Not only had the walls been strengthened, but the defenders had brought in the harvest early to replenish the stores in the city. What could not be harvested had been burned. Even the vines, which take years before their produce is truly delicious had been uprooted. All the surrounding area had been turned into an empty wasteland, unable to feed the besieging army.

Sieges in that period  were usually unsuccessful, unless the first attack breaks through. If that initial assault is repelled, as it happened in May 1311, the only way to force a surrender was by starving the defenders out. And as we have just heard, the citizens of Brescia had deployed all possible measures, humane and otherwise to ensure they cannot be starved out.

For months did the imperial army lay before Brescia, waiting for the defenders to fall victim to hunger. But for months little evidence of an imminent fall appeared. In fact most of the action came from the defenders staging raids into imperial positions. On one of these sorties, Tebaldo Brusato, the leader of Brescia captured an outlying tower and proudly raise the Guelph colors. But that turned out to be a massive miscalculation. The imperial forces rapidly shut down his escape route and then systematically slaughtered his smallish force. Tebaldo fought with his men to the very end, but just before he was about to receive the coup de grace one of the attackers recognized him.

Tebaldo was shackled and brought before Herny. Henry by now no longer the prince of peace but at best an avenging angel if not the brutal tyrant the Italians increasingly claimed he was, condemned his erstwhile friend and ally to a most painful death. He was sown into a cowhide and then pulled by wild donkeys through the imperial camp. On account of the cowhide, he was still alive after this ordeal. He was then attached by his limbs to four oxen who pulled him apart. Finally the executioner cut off his head and paraded it on top of a lance before the city walls.

If this horrific spectacle was intended to break the morale of the city, it did have the opposite effect. A few days after the execution of Tebaldo, one of the three cardinals who were to crown Henry VII, was dispatched into Brescia in order to convince the citizens to surrender on honorable terms. The cardinals did the necessary speeches and entreaties, urging the city to surrender and let the emperor go to his destiny in Rome as the Holy Father intended. The Podesta of Brescia, speaking for his people, refused, claiming “they would rather die than submit to a tyrant. Then he leads the prelates to the storerooms of Brescia that are full with all the produce collected. He then goes on to say that they have food for half a year and that once this has run out, they would eat the lower orders of animals, the rats and bats, and then they would devour the women and children and those unable to fight unless they can feast on the giant corpses of these Suedes and vandals and other Germans. All this we will do until Christ puts an end to this and judges this cruel and brutal king.”

Contrary to the Brescians’ hopes it wasn’t the king himself who became the first prominent imperial victim of this siege, but his brother Walram. A crossbow bolt penetrated his armor as he attacked the walls of the city.

Henry took the loss stoically. Others believed it was now time to end the siege. Brescia was clearly well defended and had the necessary food and determination to hold out. Meanwhile the time window for a coronation in Rome was slowly closing. Margarete, his wife and probably his best council too argued for a withdrawal.

But there was no way back. If he negotiated a deal with Brescia now, his position would be fatally undermined. All of Italy was staring at this siege of Brescia and if Brescia could withstand, all the allies of Florence would gain confidence and many Lombard cities would join the resistance. No, Brescia must fall, come what may.

And come it did. A late medieval siege is a messy affair at the best of times. But this one was a particularly messy one. The summer climate of Italy meant camp hygiene was paramount for the survival of the army, in particular an army of men unaccustomed to the diseases prevalent in that country. But Henry’s forces neglected these fairly basic requirements. Horses who had died in the fighting or from lack of food had been dumped not far from the main camp. As summer approached and then arrived the decomposing bodies became hosts for all kinds of pathogens. Which ones exactly is not clear, chroniclers only talk about a foul air that brough great pestilence.

Of the leaders of the imperial army died 71, of the knights and armed men, 7,700 and of the lower classes innumerable men as Mussatus tells us. The dead were piling up so fast, they could not be buried, let alone receive the proper Christian rituals. The corpses were first dropped outside the camp, but later dragged over into the moats underneath the city walls until these were filled to the top with decaying human flesh. Still fighting continued ferociously.

Many noblemen, happy to take on any human opponent without fear, capitulated before the invisible bringers of death and fled. But still died in their litters on their way home. Very few survived, amongst them duke Leopold of Austria who returned home in haste.

The disease did not only affect the imperial army, but also spread across the tightly packed city of Brescia. There too the cemeteries filled up quickly and bodies were buried in the streets, if at all.

All that horror was too much for the cardinals, and one of them cardinal Fieschi went into Brescia and convinced the citizens to surrender on the promise that they could keep their walls except for one small section and their city constitution, privileges etc.  basically the same deal they had offered four months earlier. Whatever cardinal Fieschi then told Henry VII we do not know, but Henry VII accepted the surrender. A section of wall where some German prisoners had been hanged was broken down. The emperor and what remained of his once large army entered Brescia. The siege is over. Still Henry is full of vengeance for what had happened and he ordered his soldiers to take down the walls of the city, promise or not.

The siege of Brescia had cost Henry not only two thirds of the army he had brought from Germany and even more of his Italian supporters, but also precious time, time his enemies in Florence, Bologna and Naples have used to strengthen their defenses, to raise funds, gather armies and to ferment revolt in the cities so far loyal to the emperor. It is also time he had needed to get to Rome before either the city fell to his enemies or the pope changed his mind.

Within days of the fall of Brescia we find Henry VII in Cremona. There he summoned all the cities of the kingdom of Lombardy to send him four of their leaders, each named individually to follow him to Rome  for his coronation. Some of them show up in Pavia where he had ordered them to go, but not all. Still on October 15^th, 1311, about a year after he first set foot on Italian soil, did he begin his actual journey to Rome. There was no way he could take the land route. The Via Francigena, the ancient pilgrim route from Canterbury to Rome leads via Lucca, Florence and Siena, all cities firmly in the Guelph camp and unwilling to let him and his army pass. And even smaller passes across the spine of Italy are blocked by Bolognese, the Florentines and the king of Naples.

The only way to go is now by ship from Genoa. So to Genoa he goes.

In Genoa he experiences the worst tragedy. His wife, Margarete, still beautiful at the advanced age of 37 succumbed to the disease that had spread before Brescia. Margarete had been his steady companion throughout his meteoric rise from minor count to king of the Romans and then ruler of Northern Italy. She had given him three children, but most importantly, she had been his most honest advisor and thanks to her charity and approachability a huge asset in his campaign for the hearts and minds of the Italians. Mussatus writes that quote “the king bore this loss with manly dignity and never shed a tear in public. But as improbable as it sounds, before this union there had never been a couple that was so serious in love with each other than these two.” end quote.

Margarete was buried in the church of the Franciscans in Genoa and Henry commissioned a splendid funerary monument by Giovanni Pisano. This was a fascinating and intense work of art, one of the most original and free European sculpture of the fourteenth century. There is nothing medieval about this. Henry Moore had called Giovanni Pisano the first modern sculptor. Sadly only parts of the work survive. She is depicted as angels carry her soul up to heaven, her face “enlightened by the hope of the divine”.

Now next week, and I am sorry that I have been so carried away by the events in Milan and in Brescia that there has to be another week of Henry VII, but there will be one. The sorry tale needs to come to its conclusion and we need to talk a little bit about the fallout, both for Italian and for German history. I hope you will join us again.

And just a final reminder that if you want to support the History of the Germans go to patreon.com/historyofthegermans or to historyofthegermans.com/support.