The imperial crown was now on the head of Otho. Not only was he crowned by the hands of Innocent in St. Peter's, at Rome, but he was raised to that dignity by the artful and cruel policy of the apostolic See. But the deceiver was deceived; the traitor was betrayed. Scarcely was the ceremony of the coronation completed, when the mask of obedience under which Otho had veiled his real intentions was thrown off. The effect of the iron crown was irresistible. He felt himself a new man, in a new position, and bound to maintain the prerogatives of his crown against the encroachments of the spiritual power. From that hour the Emperor and the pope were implacable enemies. Such was the disappointment, as overruled by the righteous government of God, of the unscrupulous pontiff. Satan may rule, but an all-wise God overrules. "Be not deceived," says the apostle; "God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." (Gal. 6:77Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. (Galatians 6:7).) Innocent had taught his nominee to deceive, and now he must eat the bitter fruit of his own teaching.
The unusual strength and numbers of Otho's army which accompanied him, and now lay encamped under the walls of Rome, were regarded with great jealousy by the inhabitants.
The quarrels, which had become customary on such occasions, were renewed with great fierceness. Many of the Germans were slain, and a number of their horses were killed—so they said, at least. But it was enough. Otho's smothered ambition was now kindled into a flame of indignation. He withdrew in wrath from the city. He demanded compensation Innocent refused. The troops were distributed over the patrimony of St. Peter to the great damage of the people and the increasing alarm of the pope. The Emperor was requested to withdraw his soldiers from the neighborhood of Rome, but he declared they would remain until the provisions of the country were exhausted. He enriched himself by the plunder of pilgrims whom his soldiery intercepted on their way to Rome. He marched into Tuscany, took possession of the cities on the frontier of the territory of the Countess Matilda, seized towns and fortresses which the pope had lately occupied; estates and dignities within the pontifical claims he bestowed upon his favorites, and the most formidable of the pope's adversaries, Count Diephold, he invested with the duchy of Spoleto. Success inflamed his ambition; he contemplated the invasion of Sicily, and seizing the young Frederick, the last of the house of Hohenstaufen.
He who had proclaimed himself infallible was in despair. After all his labors, all his sacrifices, all his treacheries, he had raised up to himself a more formidable antagonist, a more bitter foe, than any of the Swabian family had ever been. The most earnest appeals to his gratitude, the most solemn admonitions, and the loudest thunders of excommunication, were alike disregarded by the headstrong pupil of Richard Coeur de Lion.