w he had made, after
subjecting its inhabitants to the greatest humiliations which he could
devise.
For three days the consuls and chief men of the city, followed by the
people, were obliged to parade before the imperial camp, barefooted and
dressed in sackcloth, with tapers in their hands and crosses, swords,
and ropes about their necks. On the third day more than a hundred of the
banners of the city were brought out and laid at the emperor's feet.
Then, in sign of the most utter humiliation, the great banner of their
pride, the Carocium--a stately iron tree with iron leaves, drawn on a
cart by eight oxen--was brought out and bowed before the emperor.
Frederick seized and tore down its fringe, while the whole people cast
themselves on the ground, wailing and imploring mercy.
The emperor was incensed beyond mercy, other than to grant them their
lives. He ordered that a part of the wall should be thrown down, and
rode through the breach into the city. Then, after deliberation, he
granted the inhabitants their lives, but ordered their removal to four
villages, several miles away, where they were placed under the care of
imperial functionaries. As for Milan, he decided that it should be
levelled with the ground, and gave the right to do this, at their
request, to the people of Lodi, Cremona, Pavia, and other cities which
had formerly been oppressed by proud Milan.
[Illustration: THE AMPHITHEATRE AT MILAN.]
The city was first pillaged, and then given over to the hands of the
Lombards, who--such was the diligence of hatred--are said to have done
more in six days than hired workmen would have done in as many months.
The walls and forts were torn down, the ditches filled up, and the once
splendid city reduced to a frightful scene of ruin and desolation. Then,
at a splendid banquet at Pavia, in the Easter festival, the triumphant
emperor replaced the crown upon his head.
His triumph was not to continue, nor the humiliation of Milan to remain
permanent. Time brings its revenges, as the proud Frederick was to
learn. For five years Milan lay in ruins, a home for owls and bats, a
scene of desolation to make all observers weep; and then arrived its
season of retribution. Frederick's downfall came from the hand of God,
not of man. A frightful plague broke out in the ranks of the German
army, then in Rome, carrying off nobles and men alike in such numbers
that it looked as if the whole host might be laid in the grave.
Thous
|