began to desert him, upbraiding him
with ingratitude and coldness. The Saxons addressed him several epistles
in which they threatened to abandon him. But less moved by their threats
than their entreaties, the Pontiff accused them of weakness and
insolence. There was another reason sufficient to deter him from
confirming the nomination of Rodolph, had none other opposed it. All
Italy, with few exceptions, espoused the cause of Henry, and waited only
the pontifical coronation of his rival, to rise in open rebellion. When
the history of the times is carefully studied, it will be confessed that
the Pope's refusal to accede to Rodolph's request was dictated by the
greatest wisdom, enlightened and purified by the greatest virtue and
forbearance.

Still hoping to arrest the purple tide of civil war, Gregory despatched
legate after legate to Henry, charging them to omit no lawful means to
incline the monarch to peace, and induce him to abide by the decision of
a diet which should be convened to judge between him and his rival. This
was the pacific adjustment to which the Pontiff looked. But Henry
remained deaf to all these remonstrances, constantly declaring that the
sword alone must decide. He was again at the head of a powerful army,
and burned to retrieve the lustre of his arms. Rodolph, perceiving that
another battle was inevitable, prepared for it without delay. Each king
was now in quest of the other.

They met near Fladenheim in Thuringia. As at Melrichstadt, the allied
forces of Suabia and Saxony were drawn up in two divisions under Rodolph
and Otto. The former occupied a steep hill on the bank of a deep
stream, which separated the combatants. Otto with his Saxons was
stationed in the van, and was to sustain the attack, while the division
of Rodolph was to act as a reserve. It was a bitter cold day in January,
and a thick mist had canopied the river. Under cover of this, Henry, by
a retrograde movement, gained the rear of his adversary. Rodolph,
unconscious of this, was anxiously listening for the din of battle as
the fog partially obscured his view. Gilbert had never seen the new
king's noble brow so calm and unclouded--he had never seen his eye flash
so proudly and joyously, or the same sweet, buoyant smile upon his lips.
But as the hostile army filed out into the plain, and Rodolph found that
the enemy he had expected in front was in his rear, a deep frown for a
moment dispelled his smiles. It was only for a moment.