Rhodolph
consented, and encamped his followers.
He was asleep in his tent, when a messenger entered at midnight, awoke
him, and informed him that he was elected Emperor of Germany. The
previous emperor, Richard, had died two years before, and after an
interregnum of two years of almost unparalleled anarchy, the electors
had just met, and, almost to their own surprise, through the
fluctuations and combinations of political intrigue, had chosen Rhodolph
of Hapsburg as his successor. Rhodolph himself was so much astonished at
the announcement, that for some time he could not be persuaded that the
intelligence was correct.
To wage war against the Emperor of Germany, who could lead almost
countless thousands into the field, was a very different affair from
measuring strength with the comparatively feeble Count of Hapsburg. The
news of his election flew rapidly. Basle threw open her gates, and the
citizens, with illuminations, shouts, and the ringing of bells, greeted
the new emperor. The bishop was so chagrined at the elevation of his
foe, that he smote his forehead, and, looking to heaven, profanely said,
"Great God, take care of your throne, or Rhodolph of Hapsburg will take
it from you!"
Rhodolph was now fifty-five years of age.
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