Philip Augustus was a proud, haughty, arbitrary prince, not accustomed to brook encroachment quietly. He broke out into paroxysms of fury; he swore by the sword of Charlemagne that he would rather lose half his dominions than part from Agnes of Meran. He threatened the clergy with the last extremities if they dared to obey the pope. Ingeburga was seized, dragged from her cloister, and imprisoned in the strong castle of Etampes. But the wrath of the king would not prevail over the stern decree of the pope. The barons, whose power he had reduced, cared not to rally round him; the people were in a state of pious insurrection. They had assembled round the churches, forced the doors; they were determined not to be deprived of their religious services. The king became alarmed at the mutinies among the people, and promised to obey the pope.
A deputation was sent to Rome. The king complained of the harsh proceedings of the legate, but declared himself ready to abide by the sentence of the pope. "What sentence?" sternly exclaimed his holiness; "he knows our decree; let him put away his concubine, receive his lawful wife, reinstate the bishops whom he has expelled, and give them satisfaction for their losses. Then will we raise the interdict, receive his sureties, examine into the alleged relationship, and pronounce our decree." The answer went to the heart of Agnes, and drove the king to madness. "I will turn Mahometan," he exclaimed. "Happy Saladin, he has no pope above him." But the haughty Philip must bow. The affections and religious feelings of all classes were with the clergy. He summoned a parliament at Paris; it was attended by all the great vassals of the crown. "What is to be done?" demanded the king, with his beautiful Agnes by his side. "Obey the pope, dismiss Agnes, receive back Ingeburga;" was the crushing reply. Thus he who had doubled France in extent by the sharpness of his sword, and the prudence of his policy; he who had raised the crown to something like independence above the great feudal lords; must now drink the dregs of humiliation in the presence of the nobles of France at the bidding of the pope.
The scene was overwhelming. Agnes had declared that she cared nothing for the crown; that it was her husband she loved; a stranger, the daughter of a christian prince, young and ignorant of the world, she married the king; and had borne him two children. Sever me not from my husband, was her touching appeal. But the inexorable decree had gone forth; "Obey the pope, dismiss Agnes, receive back Ingeburga." The king at last agreed to a reconciliation with Ingeburga. She was brought in; but the sight of her so aroused the king's aversion that negotiations were almost broken off. At last he mastered himself for the moment and bowed to the papal sentence. He swore to receive and honor her as queen of France. At that instant the ringing of bells proclaimed that the interdict which had weighed so heavily on the people for upwards of seven months was taken off. "The curtains were withdrawn from the images, from the crucifixes, the doors of the churches flew open, the multitudes streamed in to satiate their pious desires, which had been suppressed during the period of the interdict."
Rome has accomplished her object; she has triumphed over the greatest king in Christendom; the word of God is fulfilled; "The woman which thou sawest is that great city, which reigneth over the kings of the earth." Universal dominion over the bodies and souls and affairs of men was her unquenchable desire, her unceasing aim. And beyond this display of power we cannot suppose that Rome had any higher object in view, as she had sanctioned in Philip's great predecessor more outrageous conduct.
The distressed king now separated himself from his broken-hearted Agnes. She soon after died of grief, having given birth to a son, to whom she gave the significant name of Tristan—the son of my sorrow. Ingeburga was received with outward honor, but was in reality a state prisoner; nothing could ever induce Philip to live with her as his wife, though he consented to her living in the palace. Fresh quarrels between France and England diverted the mind of Innocent from the neglected queen, and opened up a more inviting field for his active and ambitious mind. We will now turn to home scenes for a little.