Engelbert’s war against Denmark was the greatest evidence of his energy and success. Before the struggle was over he was assassinated in 1225 by a band of robber knights, who resented his strenuous maintenance of public order. The Church honoured him as a martyr, and he was soon added to the catalogue of saints. [Sidenote: Henry VII., King of the Romans, 1222–1235.] He left no competent successor, and the land fell into such anarchy that a chronicler complained that Germany had become as bad as Israel under the Judges, when there was no king, and every man did what was right in his own eyes. The young Henry VII.—so Frederick’s son was generally called—attained man’s estate in the midst of these disturbances. He was a dissolute, capricious, feather-headed youth, quite unable to uphold order or frame a clear and consistent policy. Complaints of the disorders arising from his neglect soon crossed the Alps to his father, but Frederick’s exhortations and remonstrances only irritated his son against him without turning him from his evil ways. Before long the growing differences between Frederick and Henry added a new element of difficulty to the Emperor’s position. The King of the Romans sought, so far as he could, to maintain a diametrically different policy from that approved of by the Emperor. The last generation of the ‘ministeriales,’ utterly alienated from his father, abetted his designs and gave them some coherence. [Sidenote: Frederick’s Privileges to the Princes, 1231–1232.]