He sent Count Eberhard to Lombardy to combat the Patarenes;
nominated the cleric Tedaldo to the archbishopric of Milan,
thus settling a prolonged and contentious question; and finally
endeavoured to establish relations with the Norman duke,
Robert Guiscard. Gregory VII. answered with a rough letter,
dated December 8, in which—among other charges—he reproached
the German king with breach of his word and with
his further countenance of the excommunicated councillors;
while at the same time he sent by word of mouth a brusque
message intimating that the enormous crimes which would be
laid to his account rendered him liable, not only to the ban of the
church, but to the deprivation of his crown. Gregory ventured
on these audacious measures at a time when he himself was
confronted by a reckless opponent in the person of Cencius, who
on Christmas-night did not scruple to surprise him in church
and carry him off as a prisoner, though on the following day
he was obliged to surrender his captive. The reprimands of
the pope, couched as they were in such an unprecedented form,
infuriated Henry and his court, and their answer was the hastily
convened national council in Worms, which met on the 24th
of January 1076. In the higher ranks of the German clergy
Gregory had many enemies, and a Roman cardinal, Hugo
Candidus, once on intimate terms with him but now at variance,
had made a hurried expedition to Germany for the occasion and
appeared at Worms with the rest. All the gross scandals with
regard to the pontiff that this prelate could utter were greedily
received by the assembly, which committed itself to the ill-considered
and disastrous resolution that Gregory had forfeited
his papal dignity. In a document full of accusations the bishops
renounced their allegiance. In another King Henry pronounced
him deposed, and the Romans were required to choose a new
occupant for the vacant chair of St Peter. With the utmost
haste two bishops were despatched to Italy in company with
Count Eberhard under commission of the council, and they succeeded
in procuring a similar act of deposition from the Lombard
bishops in the synod of Piacenza. The communication of these
decisions to the pope was undertaken by the priest Roland of
Parma, and he was fortunate enough to gain an opportunity
for speech in the synod, which had barely assembled in the
Lateran church, and there to deliver his message announcing
the dethronement of the pontiff. For the moment the members
were petrified with horror, but soon such a storm of indignation
was aroused that it was only due to the moderation of Gregory
himself that the envoy was not cut down on the spot. On the
following day the pope pronounced the sentence of excommunication
against the German king with all formal solemnity, divested
him of his royal dignity and absolved his subjects from the oaths
they had sworn to him. This sentence purported to eject the
king from the church and to strip him of his crown. Whether
it would produce this effect, or whether it would remain an idle
threat, depended not on the author of the verdict, but on the
subjects of Henry—before all, on the German princes. We
know from contemporary evidence that the excommunication
of the king made a profound impression both in Germany and
Italy. Thirty years before, Henry III. had deposed three popes,
and thereby rendered a great and acknowledged service to the
church. When Henry IV. attempted to copy this summary
procedure he came to grief, for he lacked the support of the
people. In Germany there was a speedy and general revulsion
of sentiment in favour of Gregory, and the particularism of the
princes utilized the auspicious moment for prosecuting their
anti-regal policy under the cloak of respect for the papal decision.
When at Whitsuntide the king proposed to discuss the measures
to be taken against Gregory in a council of his nobles at Mainz,
only a few made their appearance; the Saxons snatched at the
golden opportunity for renewing their insurrection and the
anti-royalist party grew in strength from month to month. The
situation now became extremely critical for Henry. As a result
of the agitation, which was zealously fostered by the papal legate
Bishop Altmann of Passau, the princes met in October at Tribur
to elect a new German king, and Henry, who was stationed at
Oppenheim on the left bank of the Rhine, was only saved from
the loss of his sceptre by the failure of the assembled princes
to agree on the question of his successor. Their dissension,
however, merely induced them to postpone the verdict. Henry,
they declared, must make reparation to the pope and pledge
himself to obedience; and they settled that, if, on the anniversary
of his excommunication, he still lay under the ban, the
throne should be considered vacant. At the same time they
determined to invite Gregory to Augsburg, there to decide the
conflict. These arrangements showed Henry the course to be
pursued. It was imperative, under any circumstances and at
any price, to secure his absolution from Gregory before the period
named, otherwise he could scarcely foil his opponents in their
intention to pursue their attack against himself and justify their
measures by an appeal to his excommunication. At first he
attempted to attain his ends by an embassy, but when Gregory
rejected his overtures he took the celebrated step of going to
Italy in person. The pope had already left Rome, and had
intimated to the German princes that he would expect their
escort for his journey on January 8 in Mantua. But this escort
had not appeared when he received the news of the king’s
arrival. Henry, who travelled through Burgundy, had been
greeted with wild enthusiasm by the Lombards, but resisted the
temptation to employ force against Gregory. He chose instead
the unexpected and unusual, but, as events proved, the safest
course, and determined to compel the pope to grant him absolution
by doing penance before him at Canossa, where he had taken
refuge. This occurrence was quickly embellished and inwoven
by legend, and great uncertainty still prevails with regard to
several important points. The reconciliation was only effected
after prolonged negotiations and definite pledges on the part
of the king, and it was with reluctance that Gregory at length
gave way, for, if he conferred his absolution, the diet of princes
in Augsburg, in which he might reasonably hope to act as
arbitrator, would either be rendered purposeless, or, if it met at
all, would wear an entirely different character. It was impossible,
however, to deny the penitent re-entrance into the church, and
the politician had in this case to be subordinated to the priest.
Still the removal of the ban did not imply a genuine reconciliation,
and no basis was gained for a settlement of the great questions
at issue—notably that of investiture. A new conflict was
indeed inevitable from the very fact that Henry IV. naturally
considered the sentence of deposition repealed with that of
excommunication; while Gregory on the other hand, intent on
reserving his freedom of action, gave no hint on the subject at
Canossa.
That the excommunication of Henry IV. was simply a pretext—not a motive—for the opposition of the rebellious German nobles is manifest. For not only did they persist in their policy after his absolution, but they took the more decided step of setting up a rival king in the person of Duke Rudolph of Swabia (Forchheim, March 1077). At the election the papal legates present observed the appearance of neutrality, and Gregory himself sought to maintain this attitude during the following years. His task was the easier in that the two parties were of fairly equal strength, each endeavouring to gain the upper hand by the accession of the pope to their side. But his hopes and labours, with the object of receiving an appeal to act as arbitrator in the dynastic strife, were fruitless, and the result of his non-committal policy was that he forfeited in large measure the confidence of both parties. Finally he decided for Rudolph of Swabia in consequence of his victory at Flarchheim (January 27, 1080). Under pressure from the Saxons, and misinformed as to the significance of this battle, Gregory abandoned his waiting policy and again pronounced the excommunication and deposition of King Henry (March 7, 1080), unloosing at the same time all oaths sworn to him in the past or the future. But the papal censure now proved a very different thing from the papal censure four years previously. In wide circles it was felt to be an injustice, and men began to put the question—so dangerous to the prestige of the pope—whether an excommunication pronounced on frivolous grounds was entitled to respect. To make matters worse, Rudolph of Swabia died on the 16th of October of the
