СНАР. XVIII. be that given by Matthew Paris, the only Chronicler actually writing in the year 1249 who mentions the tragedy. The English monk's statement is remark- 1247-1250. ably confirmed by two of Frederick's own letters. By comparing these last with the tale brought to St. Albans, we arrive at the following result. The Imperial physician, who had long lain in prison at Parma, was sent back to his master by the Legate in exchange for some Guelf noble. The leech, as well as Peter de Vinea, had been bribed by the Pope to attempt Frederick's life; poison was accordingly mixed both in the medicine and in the bath destined for the victim. Being forewarned by a friend, he said to the inferior agent, who was handing him the cup in the presence of the anxious Peter; Drink half of this medicine with me.' The man feigned to stumble, but a part of the deadly draught remained unspilt, and was given to some condemned criminals. All was discovered; the leech was hung, while Peter was reserved for a more lingering doom. A full council of the nobles was held; letters which proved the connivance of the Pope were brought forward; and sentence was passed upon the Arch-traitor. 'We stuffed him,' Frederick wrote to the Kingdom, with wealth as much as he could crave and more. Не would have murdered not only ourselves, but also all those whose lives depend upon our well-being. We have therefore decreed, with the sanction of our nobles, that he is to be paraded through all the cities of our Kingdom, and to be tormented before death. Cruelty in punishing such a crime is true mercy.' The letter wound up with many lines from Juvenal. From San Donino Peter was taken to San Miniato in Tuscany, and there his eyes were put out. He CHAP. was led through the villages mounted on an ass; while a crier shouted, 'Behold Master Peter de 1247-1250. Vinea, the chief counsellor of the Emperor, who betrayed his master to the Pope! See what he has gained by his dealings! Well may he say, "How high was I once, and how low am I brought! The wretched man accused his servants, who had eaten his bread, of having caused his fall. But he resolved to cheat Frederick of the pleasure of parading a well-known traitor through the towns of Apulia. On the road to Pisa, where Peter was sure of an unpleasant greeting, he dashed out his brains against a pillar, to which he had been chained. His own ruin was followed by that of his kinsfolk; their goods were seized; and care was taken to restore all that they had held of the Abbey of Monte Cassino and the See of Capua to the rightful owners. Much sympathy was felt for the Emperor; he wept and wrung his hands, crying, 'Woe is me! for my own bowels are fighting against me! This Peter, whom I thought a rock, and who was the half of my life, has plotted my murder! Whom can I trust? where can I henceforth be safe?' The Pope's cause was greatly injured by the report of the foiled conspiracy. A dark cloud long rested on the memory of the fallen minister, who is mentioned in later Royal edicts as 'Master Peter the traitor.' A part of his goods were handed over, so Frederick commanded a few months afterwards, to Walter of Ocra, the new Archbishop of Capua; this was the man who profited most by the disgrace of the favourite, and he it was Chronique de Rains, quoted by Cherrier. Chronicon. † M. Paris. who stepped into the vacant offices. May there not be some truth in the well-known lines of Dante that impute to lying calumniators the ruin of Peter, the keeper of the keys to Frederick's heart? The poet, born not long after the tragedy, and living close to its scene, has overruled the verdict pronounced by the courtiers of Augustus, and has cleared the good name of the hapless minister, who was just to all but himself.* Frederick held his last Parliament at his beloved Cremona, and exulted in the marriages of his sons Enzio and Manfred, which would secure powerful allies to his cause. He talked of marching into Germany after visiting Tuscany and Apulia; the Aretines were ordered to make ready for their Lord's arrival. On the 11th of March the Emperor came down into Pontremoli; he was never to behold Lombardy again, whatever projects he might announce. Scarcely had he turned his back upon that province, when his old friend the Patriarch of Aquileia made peace with the Church and engaged to combat the champions of the Empire. Other desertions might provoke little remark; but Berthold had been a true liegeman for thirty years and more. When he, who had bearded the Pope at the Council of Lyons, forsook his Kaiser, it might be clearly perceived that the Roman Empire was being fast broken up. Tuscany was now in unusual turmoil. Frederick had already taken hostages from Florence, and these he kept in the Castle of San Miniato. He had * We know, from Frederick's own letters, that his courtiers were trying to undermine the Count of Caserta about this very time. CHAP. XVIII. 1247-1250. CHAP. XVIII. 1247-1250. afterwards persuaded the Uberti, the leading family among the Florentine Ghibellines, to drive out the Guelfs, such as the Donati, Pazzi, Brunelleschi, Buondelmonti, and many other good old houses which live for ever in the verse of Dante. Battles had been raging both day and night; the huge towers of the nobles (some of them were a hundred feet high) had been battered with mangonels. At last Frederick of Antioch had marched into Florence at the head of the German troops; the Guelfs, unable to make any further resistance, had fled by night to Capraia and other Castles, whence they could harass the enemy. Four and twenty of their Palaces in the city had been pulled down; one in its fall narrowly missed crushing the far-famed Baptistery. Eight hundred German knights had been left under the command of Count Jordan; these had been defeated at Montevarchi by the rebels late in the previous year. The Emperor, upon coming into the disturbed province, found his friends besieging the fortress of Capraia on the Arno. For reasons of his own he avoided Florence and made the little town of Fucecchio, half way between the two great Tuscan cities, his head-quarters. The garrison of Capraia might have made good terms for themselves, had it not been for the malice of one of their number, a cobbler, who felt aggrieved at his advice never having been asked. He shouted to the besiegers that the Guelfs inside were starving and that no terms at all need be granted. The helpless garrison surrendered to Frederick's army, and thought themselves dead men. He carried them with him into Apulia, but even thither the rage of their countrymen followed them. At the request of the Florentine Ghibellines, the XVIII. 1247-1250. noble prisoners were blinded and drowned.* One CHAP. alone, a gallant knight of the Buondelmonti, found such favour in the Imperial sight, that he was allowed to escape with the loss of his eyes, and died a monk in the island of Monte Cristo. The wicked cobbler, who had caused all this misery, was stoned to death by the children of Florence as soon as the Guelfs got the upper hand.† Frederick, satisfied with his Tuscan exploits, bestowed more charters upon the Monastery of Monte Amiato, which had repeatedly engaged the attention of himself and his son. Having granted vast powers to Pallavicino, the Imperial commander left at Cremona, Frederick sailed with his prisoners (Peter had already balked the Imperial vengeance) from Pisa to Naples, arriving there late in May. After a short stay at Benevento, he travelled on to Melfi and Foggia. Almost on the very day of his quitting the North, a frightful disaster in that quarter overwhelmed his followers. Early in the year King Enzio had taken the Castle of Arola, and had hung no fewer than a hundred and twelve Reggian Guelfs, whom he found in it. It is sad to think that this exploit, almost the last he was ever able to achieve, should have been sullied by such wholesale cruelties. But speedy retribution was at hand. While Enzio was ravaging the Parmesan country, Modena was left undefended. Cardinal Octavian persuaded the Bolognese not to let the happy moment slip. Azzo of Este sent them a large reinforcement, and they sallied forth with * Let us hope that the great Farinata had nothing to do with these atrocious reprisals. Chronicon. † Malespini. |