The Girl Empress (The Chronicle of Maud Book 1)

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The Girl Empress (The Chronicle of Maud Book 1) Page 40

by Amy Mantravadi


  Two months earlier, in June of that year, William Ætheling had wed the daughter of Fulk V, Count of Anjou, in order to build their alliance against France. He was now properly placed to succeed our father. Through all of this, I was absent—naught but a memory in the land of my birth. The letters grew ever fewer, to the point that I even treasured the ones from Roger of Salisbury.

  When I did receive a parcel from England in early autumn, it brought me a joy that was mixed with grief. An ivory box was presented to me, carved with figures from the life of the Virgin. With great care I raised the lid, finding inside it an object as familiar to me as my own hands: the jasper rosary belonging to my mother and to her mother before her. I took it and shifted the beads with my fingers. How many times had I seen Queen Mathilda do this? There was a kind of magic about it, as if I inhabited her very space or she had reached to me from beyond. So I imagined it to be, but of course this was only a trick of the mind. Stones are naught but stones . . . But what of the stone from which Moses drew water? Here was a question to which I would never know the answer.

  Having received my piece of amber back from the emperor—I fear he never assigned it the same value as did his wife—I placed both it and the jasper chain within the same purse that I had carried with me for years. Here was the last of England, my final link to the land beyond the sea. I was queen of the Germans now and empress of the Romans. The rest was memory.

  Now return with me to matters within the empire. The forum in Straßburg was something better than defeat, and yet less than a triumph. The bishop of Châlons had put before the emperor the demand that, if he truly desired peace, he must give up the right to invest all bishops and abbots. Having heard this charge before, the emperor put to them the question of how he could do so without diminishing his own kingship. The pope’s messengers replied with the usual assurances of fidelity and begged that he remember the donation made by his predecessor, Constantine the Great, many years earlier.

  Emperor Henry had never been of a mind to surrender authority over such a large portion of his kingdom, for the princes of the church were princes indeed, possessing immense lands and estates, and they were endowed with all the marks of earthly glory. Yet, partially due to Bruno’s urging, and in light of the substantial losses sustained over many years of warfare, he sought to pacify his nobles and have the sentence of anathema reversed, lest he end up as his father. He agreed to meet with the pope and made but two demands: that the Holy Father would act in good faith and with true justice, and that any agreement would bring with it the restoration of all lands which had been lost and the creation of a lasting peace. The papal ambassadors left in good spirits, and the Kingdom of Germany awaited their meeting in great suspense.

  In mid-October the imperial household departed Straßburg and headed west toward Metz, where we crossed over the River Moselle. The pope had convened a synod in Reims, a city whose claim to the French monarchy was almost as strong as that of Paris itself. Having been placed under the ban of excommunication, it was impossible for my husband to enter the city. For his part, the emperor desired that any meeting with Calixtus should take place within his own borders, so as to ensure a fair hearing, for he knew too well how all the bishops and nobles of France were against him.

  We were halfway between Metz and Verdun, with the full imperial army in our company, when a new band of papal ambassadors met us on the road. Among them were the bishop of Châlons, the bishop of Ostia, and Cardinal Gregory ex latere. The second man, Lamberto Scannabecchi, cardinal bishop of Ostia, was a counselor to both Pope Calixtus II and Pope Gelasius II before him, and we had already seen him once before: he was one of the three cardinals who challenged the emperor during his procession into Rome.

  A tent was made ready in which the two parties could meet. With the emperor were Count Palatine Godfrey and Duke Welf of Bavaria, along with bishops, lords, and many servants. The clerks made ready their vellum and inkwells, ready to set down whatever words might be said. The pope’s men proceeded likewise. I had been allowed to attend on the condition that I not disturb them.

  Once we were all seated around the hastily laid table, my husband offered a few words of welcome to the visitors. It was a rather strange business, for as Emperor Henry had been placed under the ban, it was not strictly permitted for the men opposite to acknowledge his authority, but out of a desire to proceed amicably, they did make some show of respect.

  “My lord,” the bishop of Ostia began, “we have just come from Reims, where even now His Holiness is preparing to hold a council to address matters of doctrine and the issue which we have gathered here to discuss, namely that of investiture. He wishes you to know that he has heard your promises and is willing to remove the order of excommunication should you prove true. I believe his exact words were, ‘I wish that it had been done already, if it could be done without fraud.’ So you see, you and he are really of the same mind.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” my husband replied.

  “Excellent! Now, we have here the decree, which we hope you will sign. Please take a moment to study it.”

  The bishop handed over a roll of parchment that the emperor opened and read aloud.

  “‘I, Henry, august emperor of the Romans by the grace of God, out of my love for God, the blessed Peter, and the lord Pope Calixtus, give up all investiture of all churches and give true peace to all those who, from the time this strife began, have been or are at war for the Church’s sake; furthermore, the possessions of the churches and of all those who have labored for the Church which I now hold, I return; what I do not hold, I shall help them faithfully to reacquire. And if a dispute should arise from this, let things ecclesiastical be settled by canonical judgment and things secular by secular judgment.’”

  The emperor then paused for the space of a few minutes, his eyes looking over the page again and again, searching for any hidden meanings not apparent upon the first reading. He then whispered in German to Count Godfrey, who was seated just beside him. Each pointed to different portions of the text, until at length they seemed to reach an accord.

  “Very well,” the emperor said. “We have seen what you wish for me to sign. What of Calixtus? Do you have one for him as well?”

  “Of course,” said the bishop of Ostia, turning to look at the man on his left: William Champeaux, bishop of Châlons.

  “The pope has indeed agreed to a signed decree,” Champeaux answered, producing another page from within the folds of his cloak. “I shall read it to you now. ‘I, Calixtus II, catholic bishop of the Roman Church by the grace of God, give true peace to Henry, august emperor of the Romans and to all who were or are with him against the Church . . .”

  “The emperor is not against the Church,” Chancellor David argued. “He is against the abuses brought about by corrupt men within the Church. He is against the withholding of ancient rights due to the empire. But I assure you, he stands in opposition against neither the Church nor the Holy Father.”

  “Be that as it may,” Champeaux continued, “here is the rest of the testimony: ‘Their possessions, which they lost because of this war, I return those that I have; and those I do not have, I shall help them faithfully to reacquire. And if a dispute should arise from this, let things ecclesiastical be settled by canonical judgment, and things secular by secular judgment.’”

  For a moment no one spoke. The only words I heard were within my own mind, where the sentiment “This is all so very dull” prevailed. Was this how all the fighting and shouting was to end, with ponderous legal language that seemed to avoid the real points of dispute? Even as I listened to those words, I could already sense that their meaning would be subject to personal opinion. Yes, the emperor was offering to give the right of investiture back to the Church, but the greatest scholars of the age disagreed as to the meaning of the word investiture. Some favored the view that a bishop receives his office from the Church, but his lands and possessions come from the king, and are thus subject to the king’s laws. Othe
rs argued that secular rulers hold no power of any kind over the Church and its endless estates. Still others sought some form of compromise between king and pope, like those that were achieved in England and France. It seemed unlikely that the emperor would agree to the broad interpretation of Church powers favored by the Gregorians.

  It was perhaps because of this uncertainty that Emperor Henry and his men were able to sign their names upon that document in good faith. My husband knew full well that given the power of the lords within his kingdom, he could not hope to grant such powers to the clergy without gaining their consent. That would be a matter for another day. For the moment the two parties agreed to a meeting at Mouzon in a few days’ time. This would allow Henry to travel from Verdun up the river to Liége, stopping along the way for the meeting with the pope. It was also near the border between the Kingdom of France and the empire.

  For no other reason was Mouzon chosen, for I assure you that it is a town of little significance, being neither the seat of a bishop, nor the residence of a great noble, nor a center of much business. There was no house fit to receive either an emperor or a pope, but given the size of the imperial army, one feature of this site was vital: it was surrounded by plentiful fields in which the horses could graze, and the fall harvest had left a good supply of food for their riders.

  On Thursday, Calixtus finally arrived near the site at a very late hour, having been delayed since his departure the morning before. “Popes never travel quickly,” Drogo observed, “except perhaps when they are chased by an angry mob.”

  The next day, the pope remained in the council of the bishops and other men of the Church. Messengers traveled back and forth bringing all the latest news. It was said that the bishops were considering the precise meaning of the decree that the emperor had signed. The Holy Father was now calling what had been plain enough to the ambassadors into question.

  That afternoon, I happened to see Emperor Henry sitting alone in his tent, where he was attempting to read through a stack of letters. I approached the entrance with caution, only making my presence known after careful consideration.

  “My lord?”

  He looked up from the papers in front of him. “Yes. What is it?”

  “May I enter?”

  He let out a sigh and then answered, “I suppose, but there is no chair. You will have to stand.”

  You will note that my husband did not offer me the chair in which he was sitting, but I decided not to fault him too heavily for this. When I reached his side, he asked me, “Are you going to tell me what this is about, or must I draw it out?”

  “I was wondering if you might know the cause of the pope’s delay. He has spent the whole day debating with his men across the river. Will he never come to meet us?”

  “Calixtus does not trust me. He does not trust any of us. He will be plotting some design that will force me to surrender even more than I have already offered, for he believes me to be weak.”

  “Are you weak?”

  “Not in mind, not in spirit . . . perhaps in body, but that must not be known.”

  “It is true, then? The pain has grown worse?”

  “It is more frequent, and the physician suspects some disease. The mass is larger than it used to be.”

  This no more than confirmed my suspicion, for my husband had not asked me to his bed for many weeks, and I knew it was because the pain was more than he could bear.

  “Let us speak no more of it,” I offered. “Tell me, why are you more willing to treat with the pope than you used to be? When we were in Italy, I saw no sign of surrender in you, but now I have my doubts. Have you simply grown weary?”

  “Nothing of the sort! No, I assure you that everything is proceeding as it should be.”

  There was a game of checks laid out just to the side. Evidently the emperor had been using it to pass the time with some of his counselors. Now he reached over and picked up a piece of ivory meant to represent the king. He showed it to me, then laid his right palm out flat and balanced the piece upon his fingers.

  “See how the king stays upright?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It stands because it is supported by all of my fingers. Now, heed what I say—I am the king, and each of my fingers is one of the five duchies: Franconia, Lotharingia, Swabia, Bavaria, and—”

  “Saxony,” I said, “mother of all rebellions.”

  “Not quite true, but I can see you have been listening to Bruno. The king must have support in order to stand.”

  He then pulled back his fingers one at a time, and with each one the carved piece became less stable, until finally it fell onto the table.

  “That is what happens if you lose the support of the duchies,” he continued, “even as the duchies have their purpose in holding up the king. It may be possible to stand from time to time without the support of one of those regions, but if too many are removed, then you no longer have an empire.”

  “And Saxony stirs with discontent, and Adalbert seeks to steal away Franconia as well. That leaves only three.”

  He nodded and replied, “A king may stand for a while under such conditions, but the weight of years might finally sever the thread by which his crown hangs. I hear reports daily of Adalbert’s efforts to undermine our kingship. He would use this dispute with Calixtus to bring all the bishops under his sway. We must not let him.”

  There our conversation ceased, for the messengers had returned from the pope: the bishops of Ostia and Châlons, Abbot Pontius of Cluny, and all the rest. They alighted from their horses and once again entered the emperor’s pavilion, bearing still more papers in their arms.

  “Here is your signed decree,” the abbot said, placing it on the table in front of the emperor, “and here is the one by His Holiness. These are the notes from our meeting, in regard to the exact meanings of different words. This one . . . yes, this one is a further note which we would like you to view . . .”

  “Wait!” Chancellor David called. “You said this one is the decree by Calixtus?”

  “The very same,” he replied.

  “Then where is his mark?”

  “Ah, well, he was unable to sign without first going over a few points.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the emperor. “You presented these words to us, written by your own hands.”

  “Yes, but we now wish to confirm that your understanding of them is the same as ours,” the bishop of Ostia said.

  “Perhaps you should tell us what you think they mean,” my husband offered. His voice was rather cold, and he did not seem in any way amused by this new delay.

  “It is our understanding,” the bishop continued, “that the right of investiture includes not only the act of ordination or the granting of the pallium, but also those territories and marks of authority which were bestowed upon the Church from the time of Charles the Great down to the present age. This is what you agreed to give up.”

  “I think you will find that I did not.”

  The bishops were confounded and looked at each other. The bishop of Ostia then replied, “We stood here and watched you put your name to this . . . here . . .” He reached for the piece of parchment that clearly bore Henry’s mark. “See here: ‘I renounce every investiture of all churches.’ That is what you signed!”

  “Maybe so, but I fear your definition goes much too far. How could any king agree to such a refusal of his rights? You would have our kingdom, nay, our empire ruled entirely by the bishops! They may have received grants from my predecessors, but they are duty bound to submit themselves to our righteous decrees, even as Saint Paul taught. Such is the way things are done in both England and France. Why should it not be the same within the empire?”

  The bishop of Châlons then broke his silence. “I cannot believe what I am hearing! If, lord king, you wish to deny the text which we hold in our hands and the understanding of it that you have heard, with the religious men who have been between me and you as my witnesses, I am prepared to swear on the rel
ics of the saints or on the Gospel of Christ that you confirmed all that I have in my hand and that I received it from you with this understanding!”

  “Perhaps that was your understanding, and that I signed it I have no wish to deny—but you must know that such an agreement as you propose would certainly diminish our royal authority. That is something to which I cannot submit!”

  The older man scoffed. “In what we have promised, lord king, you shall find us completely reliable. For the lord pope is not attempting in any way to diminish the status of the empire or the crown of the kingship, as some sowers of discord claim.” Here he gave an evil glare to the emperor’s companions. “To the contrary, he proclaims before all that in the provision of military service and in all the other things in which the churches customarily served you and your predecessors, they shall continue to serve you in every way. But if you judge the status of the empire to be diminished in the fact that you are no longer allowed to sell bishoprics, you ought rather to hope it will be to the increase and profit of your kingship if you cast off for the love of God what is contrary to him!”

  “How dare you accuse me of simony!” the emperor responded. “I know just how much corruption there is within the ranks of the Gregorians themselves. I have seen the streets of Rome, sir, and they are crawling with whores and traders of ill repute, and that is only the clergy! Any man knows that he might purchase the regard of the Church for the right price. No, do not accuse me of simony, but rather take the plank out of your own eye!”

  “My lord emperor!” a voice called. I looked and saw that it belonged to Duke Welf of Bavaria. Every head turned as he said, “Might I not speak, as a member of the German nobility?”

  Now, the duke and the emperor were not what you might call the best of friends. My husband at first laughed at the suggestion, but he finally beckoned all those of the imperial party to speak in private. Uncertain as to how they should respond, the papal party finally decided to hold their own private discussion, until the emperor declared, “My lords, I have heard all that you have said, but I find that I cannot proceed without discussing this matter further with the princes of my realm. Therefore I must delay until morning.”

 

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