The Inquisition

by Hoffman Nickerson

Little the French nobles and their followers cared for the cold caution of their King. Frenchmen had been and were to be foremost in every Crusade from Godfroy de Bouillon to Philip’s grandson, St. Louis. It is the peculiar and permanent gift of that people, not only to phrase ideas in clear and definite terms, but to act upon the ideas thus formulated with an intensity and passion that perpetually amazes those who do not know them. Finally, it is their glory to make of the ideas which they define so clearly, and upon which they act so intensely, the instruments of a vast and solid accomplishment. They are an astonishing nation.

Now they began to swarm like bees. Seeing Languedoc hostile to the creed that inspired and held together all their society, they prepared to move upon her as their descendants, singing the “Marseillaise” and shouting for “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité,” went out against the kings of Europe. In the Crusades, as in those later Crusades of the Republic and the Empire, the inspiration was a transcendental formula, from its nature, therefore, incapable of proof, but with enormous power to stir and to persuade. Moreover, that formula, the creed, was the visible architect of a new and fruitful world. The crusading times must have felt themselves above the Dark Ages as the French Republicans despised the innumerable petty restrictions that made of the old régime a stifling thing. So they made ready to come out, as we or our descendants may see Frenchmen come out, to do battle for a creed and thereby to change the world.

Of course there were other and lesser motives. Instead of having to make the long and dangerous trip to Palestine, a mere forty days’ term of service in Languedoc was enough to qualify a man for the crusading indulgences. The price of a salved conscience had fallen. Further, the enemy to be combated was probably known to be divided against himself, and certainly known to be rich and unwarlike compared with those who were preparing the invasion. Jealousy of the refined and wealthy South no doubt spurred many a Crusader. Finally, there was the chance, not only of fine plunder, but also of permanent possession at the expense of the heretic. No doubt certain Crusaders felt that they were using the Church more than the Church was using them, just as certain of our large employers of labour use a base religious fanaticism (which in other respects they despise) to deprive the workman of his beer.

Raymond was frightened, and no wonder. He felt the ground cracking and stirring under his feet. Weak and infirm of purpose as he was, at least he had wit enough not to stand still under the menace that threatened him. His first move seems to have been to consult with his nephew and vassal, Raymond Roger Trencavel, Viscount of Beziers and Carcassonne, with a view to a common plan of action. In this he was unsuccessful. One account has the nephew for resistance and his uncle for submission, and another account has these positions reversed. At any rate they could not agree as to what should be done and parted on bad terms. The Count of Toulouse next made for the court of his overlord the King of France. Philip received him kindly and courteously but would promise nothing. Some authorities say he advised Raymond to yield, and others that he forbade Raymond to appeal to the Emperor Otto who was unfriendly to Philip.

Otto, it should be explained, had for ten years been gradually losing in a haphazard civil war for the imperial crown. Innocent had supported him, in return for a grant of increased privileges for the Church. Nevertheless the other candidate, Philip of Hohenstaufen, Duke of Suabia, a younger brother of the redoubtable Henry VI, with the prestige of his line and the traditional German dislike of Papal interference to help him, had been gradually getting the upper hand. Otto was nephew to John of England, his mother had been the Plantagenet Princess Matilda, daughter of Henry II and Eleanor. It is not surprising, therefore, that he was in close touch with John, and correspondingly hostile, in diplomacy at least, to Philip Augustus, John’s mortal enemy. Philip Augustus had even gone so far as to get into relations with Otto’s rival Philip of Suabia. While neither the two Philips nor Otto and John had ever actively aided one another with more than diplomatic and moral support, still the diplomatic alignment counted for something. In June, 1208, Otto’s rival, Philip of Suabia, had been murdered. Otto’s position was accordingly strengthened, particularly as he had had nothing to do with the crime, which had been committed for private motives.

At the time of Raymond’s visit to Philip Augustus, Otto had just become sole Emperor, so that the King of France was particularly anxious that Raymond should not attach himself to the powerful German nephew of John Plantagenet his greatest enemy. As often happened in feudal law, Raymond had more than one overlord. For the greater part of his lands he owed allegiance to the King of France. For the Marquisate of Provence, which lay east of the Rhône, and for the county of Vivarais to the west of that river, he was the “man” of the Emperor. Philip’s interest in him was so much greater than Otto’s that Raymond would have done well to leave the German alone. Unfortunately he could never take a broad view. With his usual knack for doing exactly the thing that would hurt him the most in the long run, he went straight from Philip to Otto. The Emperor had not his own house in order, therefore he could give no help, and any dealings with him were sure to weaken Raymond’s position with Philip.

One last resource remained to the Toulousain, to throw himself on the mercy of the legates and the Pope. While he had been running after Philip Augustus and Otto, his agents had been dealing with the papal curia, under instructions to raise the question of the personality of Arnaut Amalric. Should another legate, less hard and pitiless, be sent, then Raymond authorized them to promise complete submission. While Raymond’s ambassadors were framing these promises (no doubt in the full-blown oratory characteristic of the meridional to this day), laying the blame for what had occurred upon Arnaut Amalric, and showering rich presents upon all who might be useful to them, Raymond himself was giving away the game by throwing himself on the mercy of the man he professed to be unwilling to deal with on any terms. Hearing that Arnaut Amalric was holding a council at Aubinas, he knelt at Arnaut’s feet, and begged for mercy and pardon. As might have been expected, he gained nothing, the abbot coldly referred him to Rome. The effect of the fruitless humiliation was only to strain still further his relations with his nephew, and to lower still further, if possible, Churchmen’s opinion of his crooked dealings with them.

Innocent determined to play with the wretched count. Excommunicate as he was, the fact that his agents had been received at Rome and their complaints against Arnaut listened to at all may prove that the Pope and his advisers had already considered such a plan. Certainly Raymond’s repeated shuffling with the Church had been enough to wipe out any further claim to consideration for him. His abject fear was now to be used to put him into the power of Rome, so as to lessen his ability to resist the coming Crusade, should he determine to do so. As for renouncing the Crusade, whatever Raymond might do, that was probably not considered for a moment. After ten years of failure Rome was at last convinced that nothing could be done with heresy in Languedoc except by terrifying that country. Further, now that the crusading army was actually mobilizing, the Church could not call off the expedition even if she so desired.

Accordingly, the curia fell in with Raymond’s request for new legates. Without removing Arnaut Amalric, the Pope gave him two new colleagues—Milo, a notary of the Lateran, and Theodisius, a Genoese canon—who were to arrange the conditions of the Count’s reconciliation with the Church. Raymond was overjoyed, and there are indications that Arnaut Amalric and his colleague the bishop of Conserans were correspondingly depressed, or at least puzzled at the apparent success of the Toulousain ambassadors at Rome, with their fluent tongues and their showers of presents.

Innocent made haste to reassure his earlier legates. Milo was directed to obey Arnaut Amalric implicitly. The new appointments were a mere ruse. The Pope quoted Scripture in defence of the use of craft, and explained that, while seeming for a time to favour Raymond, the lesser defenders of heresy could be the more easily crushed by the Crusade. Raymond himself, should he make no move to support his vassals, was at first to be left alone. Then, when those who might have rallied round him had been disposed of, he could be easily dealt with in his turn—that is, “should he persist in his evil ways,” Innocent added for form’s sake. What had appeared as a diplomatic victory for Raymond was only a move to make his destruction more certain.