One difficulty of his doing so was that since he had left his hereditary dominions for Germany nearly five years before he had not set foot in them again; another, that he could not for the present dream of returning; and, finally, that the communications with Sicily by land were still severed by the Papal State. The reorganisation and mobilisation of Sicily had, therefore, to be conducted under circumstances of the utmost difficulty in accordance with instructions sent by the Emperor from North Italy. Nothing but the well-planned, well-oiled machinery of the Sicilian State made this possible.
It was soon manifest what the will of one individual could accomplish in a minimum of time when backed by a brilliantly drilled, unspoiled bureaucracy, working at high pressure. The Household Officers were superseded, the central authorities of Sicily: Administration, Justice, Chancery, were linked up directly with the Court, as it hastened to and fro in North Italy from one battle to another. Earlier pledges to the Curia to keep the administration of Sicily separate from that of the Empire were no longer binding. There was now one uniform imperial administration, one Supreme Court, one common imperial Chancery, one imperial Treasury; no longer a Sicilian, but an Imperial Fleet, under an Imperial Admiral. The highest official of Sicily, the Grand Justiciar, Henry of Morra, could no longer represent the Emperor in Sicily, because his permanent presence with the Court was necessary. In order that the justiciars might not, meanwhile, lack supervision, the Sicilian justiciarates were divided into two groups, each of which was under a Captain or Grand Justiciar: peninsular Sicily, under the tried and trusty Andrew of Cicala, who frequently submitted independent suggestions to the Emperor; island Sicily, under Roger de Amicis, already well known as one of the poets. To avoid “confusion of numbers” and “permanence of appointments” the number and the tenure of the officials was normalised for each province on the simplest possible basis: one Justiciar, one High Treasurer; with each Justiciar, one Judge and one Notary; all with tenure for one year only. The kingdom had, therefore, a tighter grip than ever on its officials; the constitutional structure was more symmetrical, more rigid, more transparent than ever. It is to this period that Frederick’s phrase belongs: “Sicily shall be the envy of princes, the pattern of monarchies”—invidia principum et norma regnorum.
The entire Sicilian administration was now centred in the Emperor’s court in Northern Italy. The burden was lifted from Frederick’s shoulders by the Chancery, which was admirably organised under its two heads: Piero della Vigna and Thaddeus of Suessa. The mass of work to be dealt with was stupendous. All orders had necessarily to be in writing. All imperial instructions had to be issued through the Chancery, which, therefore, had to follow the Emperor hither and thither in all his campaigning, whether his headquarters were in town or camp. Not for a day was the flow of orders interrupted. The name and date on the documents show that on marching days the Chancery worked all morning till the moment of starting, and resumed work immediately on arrival. The notaries had countless other business to attend to, since the Sicilian and Imperial Chanceries were not amalgamated. When we reflect that dozens of written orders of every description were issued daily (some days up to thirty or forty or even more) all drafted in careful style, all in two or three copies; that there were in addition constant circulars to the Justiciars, we get some idea of the labour which fell on the six or eight writers and six or eight transmitters. In these days of crisis all work must have been done at the highest possible pressure and at a speed that contrasts with the leisureliness of earlier Chanceries.
The Emperor showed not the smallest compunction about overworking his secretaries: at least one-third of the orders issued were concerned solely with his personal hobbies: horses, hounds, falcons, and the chase. Frederick, however, truly said that he worked night and day, and that “his majesty, ever ware and waking, slumbered not neither slept.” The characteristic of the new life was speed: its watchword: non sit quiescendum, continue sit agendum, and the whirring pace of the court corresponded. The courtiers streamed in and out unceasingly, mostly Sicilian messengers. The land route through the papal patrimonium was for the most part unsafe—the greatest caution was enjoined on all who used it—and a sort of express service was arranged by sea from Pisa to Naples. Pisan galleys, imperial galleys, and swift sailing yachts were utilised. Troops, corn, cash, and courtiers with important despatches were sent to and fro by sea, and depots established at Naples and Pisa. The swift conveyance of despatches was highly prized, and officials reaped rich rewards for speed. To deal the more rapidly with the whole, the subordinate personnel and the writing staff were increased.
The prime necessity was to secure Sicily against attack. All the important fortresses, which in peace time were garrisoned by one chatelain and a few men, were well manned, partly by mercenaries, partly by fiefholders. Monte Cassino, for instance, near the papal frontier, was allotted one hundred men, other castles were speedily equipped with cross-bowmen and missile-throwing engines. Every means was taken to get possession of important fortresses. Prudence must be exercised and scandal avoided, but Castle Cerro must here be taken over, and there certain border strongholds in the Abruzzi which belonged to a Sicilian knight or abbot. The participation of Genoa and Venice in the war gave increased importance to coast defence. The watching towers, which were always manned against pirates during the shipping season, were more strongly garrisoned, and the construction of coast castles at Bari, Trani, and Otranto was expedited.
As a preliminary to all other measures the entire kingdom must be bolted and barred and transformed into a single mighty fortress. The frontiers throughout Sicily were rigidly closed. Every communication with the enemy was dangerous and must be prevented. People wishing to enter the kingdom needed a passport. The Emperor would permit no stranger to travel, buy or sell in his territories unless he bore on his right hand the mark and the number of his name, till enemies made merry about the passport regulations. Ships might only enter certain specified harbours; even to enable merchants more conveniently to load or unload, no exception was permitted. The ships arriving in harbour were strictly searched by imperial officials, the crew and passengers minutely cross-examined—the birthplace of each, whence he came, whither he was going and why. None might leave the ship before the examination, none might leave the kingdom without the Emperor’s permission. Above all, papers and letters were forbidden. To bring a letter into Sicily required the imperial permission in each separate case. If such permission had not been obtained the bearer was hanged.
All communication with Rome was strictly forbidden. A man from Caserta was carrying a perfectly harmless letter from the Pope about a benefice for his son. He was imprisoned and his property confiscated “on account of his audacity.” A non-Sicilian bishop who had some important documents to hand over was instructed to deliver them to the Justiciar at the frontier, but not to set foot in the kingdom. The Emperor sought above all to prevent the intellectual poisoning of his hereditary domains. Hence, students from the rebel towns were forbidden to study in Naples.
Concurrently with the sealing up of Sicily against the outer world the country itself had to be cleansed of suspicious elements. Within a few weeks of the Emperor’s excommunication the necessary orders were issued relative to suspect Sicilian clergy. The mendicant friars, the Pope’s favourite spies and agents for stirring up insurrection, were expelled. At first only those who were natives of the rebellious towns were banished, later all without discrimination. The lands of the non-Sicilian clerics were confiscated. No priest might go to Rome without the Emperor’s orders. The loyal Sicilian clerics who happened to be in Rome on any business must return to Sicily without a moment’s delay, on pain of losing their possessions and forfeiting the right of subsequent return.
In addition to all this the justiciars were instructed to assemble all the bishops and clerics of their province and to tell them in the name of the Emperor: the Emperor wished the services of the Church to be continued, in spite of the papal ban; no priest would be
compelled to celebrate High Mass, but if any pretermitted the services the worldly possessions of his Church would be forfeit. Further, the omission to conduct service was considered suspicious, a sign that the priest was more ready to obey Pope than Emperor, and this often sufficed to lead to banishment or the gallows. There was a humble cleric who had begged the Emperor to grant a rescript making his bastard sons legitimate. When the document came he whimpered that now perhaps the Emperor’s excommunication would invalidate it. Frederick banished him “for his shameless impudence” and confiscated his property.
Pope Gregory had complained about the oppression of the Sicilian clergy, and professed to have excommunicated the Emperor on this account. Frederick now gave him some oppression to complain about. Since he had had his first quarrel with the great Innocent as a boy of fourteen, the Emperor’s desire had been to build up in Sicily an episcopate independent of Rome. He could now proceed to do so without remorse. Amongst some one hundred and forty-five sees in the Sicilian kingdom there were at the moment thirty-five vacancies. These were either left vacant or filled by trusty supporters of Frederick, here a notary, there a nephew of the chamberlain Richard, in another see another loyalist. Archbishop Berard of Palermo, who as the most faithful adherent of Frederick, had also been excommunicated, became the head of the Sicilian Church. Rome had here lost all weight, and the longer the ban lasted the more unimportant she became. A priest who applied for a bishopric without the Emperor’s leave was called on to answer for it to the Court. The sternest watch was kept to see that all imperial orders were carried out.
By such measures the Sicilian Church was rapidly purged. All who remained were loyal to the Emperor, and the future proved them completely trustworthy. A large number of bishops had first to be got rid of on the most various grounds: unquestionably all who had sided with the Pope in Frederick’s first breach over the Crusade. In this matter the Emperor dealt out banishment and confiscation of property to clergy and laity alike. The justiciars were ceaselessly commissioned to investigate all cases against suspects of this sort, and the little notebook which all suspects were obliged to carry about with them must have considerably lightened the task of the officials. The feudal nobility who had participated in the rebellion of 1229 were mercilessly banished with their families. As Frederick punished all relatives of heretics to the second generation “that they might know God to be a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children,” so he turned out the relatives of the rebels whether clerics or laymen. The measures adopted towards the feudal nobility were, however, varied. Some of them were despatched to join the imperial armies in Lombardy and some shipped off to the army in Palestine. Pope Gregory had already complained that Frederick was misusing his sacred kingdom of Jerusalem as a penal settlement for political criminals and suspects, and the process naturally did not now cease. A knight who had quitted the Syrian army without permission was imprisoned. Another who had left the Court without leave shared his fate, while a third for similar reasons was sent in chains to Malta. In such cases the Emperor also banished the families of the exiles, while, on the other hand, he held the families of his own supporters as hostages for their good faith. The instructions to send fighting men or subordinate officials to Italy “who are of loyal stock and who have brothers and sons in Sicily” becomes a recurrent formula. These were then his hostages on whom he could if necessary wreak vengeance. He had a sufficient number of hostages from every town, and it is to be understood that he never hesitated a moment to avenge himself on them. When the Venetians gave him trouble he immediately hanged the Doge’s son, Pietro Tiepolo. He is said to have burnt the daughter of Paulus Traversarius, the renegade podesta of Ravenna. When an opportunity offered to take Pope Gregory’s brother prisoner Frederick immediately responded and wrote that the proposal pleased him and would please him still better if successfully carried out: the official in question could not render him a more welcome service. He is alleged—but the accusation is probably unfounded—to have hanged all Pope Gregory’s blood relations. He admitted himself that he hated the whole “breed.”
This system undoubtedly breathed immense suspicion and mistrust. But Frederick II would have been lost without these qualities, which he shares with every great man whose position has been equally precarious. It was the Tyranny in action, but it is impossible to conceive Sicily or Italy without tyrants. Under this system denunciation flourished more and more luxuriantly, which had both drawbacks and advantages. The accusers were frequently prompted by purely personal spite (a blood feud, for instance, once entered into the matter), but each case had to be exactly investigated. In this process all sorts of facts came to light, even corruption and deceit on the part of the officials who, especially in the later phases, frequently allowed themselves to be bought off by the accused. These denunciations were part and parcel of the secret service which the Emperor urgently required. “I have messengers and envoys everywhere, and hear all that is going on,” Frederick once stated to the General of the Dominicans. It was perfectly true that he enjoyed that omniscience which goes with greatness. From his camp before the walls of Milan he was able to inform the justiciar of the Abruzzi that a number of people quoted by name had secretly exchanged gifts with the rebels. Would the official kindly look into the matter and hang the guilty “as a punishment for themselves and as a terror to others.” At about the same time he pointed out to the justiciar of the Terra Laboris that a Capuan from his province was resident in Rome: his property should be sequestrated. He learnt that certain Templars in disguise were bringing moneys to assist the rebels: he begged the Grand Master of the Order to put a stop to this.
His purification of the kingdom would have been incomplete if he had not eliminated the papal enclave at Benevento. As the focus of the Curia’s hostile propaganda, whence resistance to the Emperor was organised, Benevento must have been in very deed “a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence.” Numerous Sicilians who were adherents of the Pope had taken refuge there till Frederick finally commanded that no one should be allowed to return from Benevento into Sicily, the town should be besieged, all exit prevented, and all supplies cut off. “May she perish of hunger and rot in the pestilent freedom she herself has chosen. …” In 1241 Benevento was completely destroyed.
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By such measures the security of Sicily, internal and external, was assured in the shortest possible time. The kingdom was not only to enjoy peace but to employ its peace to find money and war-material for the Emperor. Again and again he wrote that his coffers were empty and he needed money. He had already raised loans in every direction at incredible rates of interest: in Siena, in Parma, from a certain Henry Baum, merchant of Vienna, and especially from the Romans. He may have had a political motive in applying to them. It was useful to make the widest circles possible interested in the success of the imperial arms. If the Emperor failed, the Roman creditors would stand a good chance of losing their money. The merchants thus harnessed to the Emperor’s fortunes could help in many ways to forward his Roman plans. There were many small groups of three or four merchants who combined to advance a couple of hundred ounces, an ounce of gold being approximately two and a half guineas. The total number of ounces borrowed from Rome ran into tens of thousands, so that a proportionate number of merchants were involved: from one statement of accounts alone we learn close on eighty names of creditors.
The Emperor’s need of money, if only to pay his mercenaries, had grown immense. This is where Sicily had to help. First a new tax was instituted from which neither clergy nor officials were, as heretofore, exempt. New coins were struck, which did not, however, necessarily imply any debasement of the currency. The old coins had to be exchanged for new, and the commission charged for the exchange brought in appreciable sums, since money-changing was a state monopoly. The Emperor gave orders that the precise proportion of alloy in the new coins was to be kept secret so that foreign merchants might not assess them solely on their intrinsic metal value.
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The Emperor further called in without exception all arrears of taxes due. According to old law the incomes of all vacant bishops’ sees flowed direct into the coffers of the State except so far as they were expended on the upkeep of the churches. On financial grounds the Emperor was not unduly keen on new appointments, though political considerations sometimes outweighed economic ones. The whole financial administration was now more strictly organised. A Court of Exchequer was set up in Melfi, and all officials had to submit their accounts back to the year 1220. The entire official expenditure of the past twenty years was carefully re-examined, and the officials were personally liable to make good any deficit out of their private means. All balances in hand were simultaneously checked. In addition, the Emperor commissioned an expert to seek for buried treasure.
The Emperor’s trade in corn was a further source of revenue. His transactions were extensive. That shipment to Tunis which brought in almost £75,000 had been arranged from Lodi. The Emperor raised large sums in Vienna in exchange for mere orders on Sicilian corn. The galleys which conveyed Lombard prisoners from Pisa to Apulia were instructed to use their empty space to bring back corn on their return. Part of this supplied the army’s needs and part was sold to the Pisans, though the Emperor did not want to profiteer at the expense of that loyal town. He had no scruple on the other hand about making money out of the Venetians. For, although he was at war with them, the Emperor did not want to lose a paying customer, and he permitted the export of provisions to Venice, “but prudently, so that it may not appear a general permission.” The Venetians had equally little scruple in buying from “the enemy.” The Genoese were at first also allowed to use Sicilian harbours. Under strict supervision this involved little danger to the Emperor, but later all trade with both towns was forbidden. The State also made money out of pilgrims: one-third of the fare to Syria had to be paid into the Treasury. All sale of horses out of the country was strictly forbidden. Mention has already been made of the great workshops which manufactured armour and equipment; they were kept working at full pressure.
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