Simon de Montfort was one of those extraordinary men who deflect the course of history. He was descended from Rollo the Norman, and took his name from a small domain which he held in the Ile-de-France, on the road from Dreux to Paris. Physically, he was blond, tall, broad-shouldered, distinguished in appearance, and full of activity. Naturally enough his character has been both praised and blamed to the nth power. Peter de Vaux-Cernay praises his eloquence, affability, faithfulness in friendship, his rigid chastity, and rare modesty. Sismondi, in a famous passage, says of him: “an able warrior, austere in his personal habits, fanatical in religion, inflexible, cruel and treacherous, he combined all qualities calculated to win the approval of a monk.” The important thing is that de Montfort was, above all, a soldier, and a soldier of a type not uncommon in French history, from the First Crusade to the wars of the French Revolution, in that he was consumed with a sense of the sacredness of his cause. As in so many determined men of strict sexual morality, in him fairness was all but swallowed up in fanaticism.
Such men are ill understood by men of English culture. It is a commonplace, for example, that no character approaching the type is to be found in the long gallery of Shakespearean portraits.
Meanwhile, although the student may smile at the fanatic, he will do well to remember the greatness of the work done in the world by fanatics ... those curious creatures. Directly, by keeping alive crusading activity in Languedoc, de Montfort preserved the moral unity of Christendom. That unity, rescued from the grave peril which threatened it in the beginning of the thirteenth century, endured until destroyed by the great sixteenth century centrifugal movement, which is only just beginning to subside. Indirectly, he broke down the Provençal culture, and established the French monarchy upon the Mediterranean, thus establishing the permanent unity of the French nation. But from de Montfort, as from all men, the future was hid.
Geographically, his position was strong. Of the two centres of his power, Beziers and Carcassonne, Beziers preserved his communication with the east, and, when war broke out, would help to cut off Toulouse from the Rhône valley. Carcassonne was the capital strategic point of the whole theatre of war, commanding as it did the main Narbonne-Toulouse road from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. All considerable west-bound traffic headed for Toulouse coming from as far north as Belfort or Dijon would naturally pass under the walls of Carcassonne. To do otherwise meant either a vast circuit by Limoges or a struggle with the mountains of Auvergne. Similarly, the main route to Toulouse from the south was, and is, around the Mediterranean end of the Pyrenees, north to Narbonne and west by Carcassonne. A man starting from as far west as Saragossa, or in winter from far to the west of that point, would normally travel thus. An alternative route existed by way of the Cerdagne: once over that pass a road led north-east to Perpignan, and north-west by the Puymorens to Foix and Pamiers. Its grades were steep, but traffic could use it well enough at most seasons of the year. De Montfort’s garrison at Pamiers, one of the strongholds occupied during the panic caused by the great crusading army, threatened the Cerdagne route. Should he gain Foix, he could close it almost altogether. From Albi, the fourth of his main strongholds, he could threaten Toulouse from the north-east, and, perhaps, operate in the Agen and the Cahors districts.
Nevertheless, as he considered his position, he had military and political difficulties enough to appal a weaker man. His military resources were small. The crusading army had scattered to their homes, leaving him with a mere remnant of about four thousand five-hundred effectives, mostly Burgundians and Germans. The crusading leaders had sworn to come and help him at need, but none knew better than he how slight was the chance of their willingness or even of their power to do so. Indeed, one is forced to believe that so hard-headed a zealot asked for the promise more to keep their goodwill by emphasizing his humility and comparative weakness than for any other reason. He could count only upon such crusaders as might chance to come from time to time for a forty days’ tour of duty, and, permanently, upon those whom he was able to pay or to attach to himself by gifts of lands and castles. Moreover, he knew that many of his new southern vassals were bitterly hostile to him, and he himself had alienated moderate opinion by sailing very close to the wind of dishonour in accepting this new viscounty, won by massacre, and made vacant for him (as many believed and whispered) by poison.
Of the forces in opposition, Raymond of Toulouse alone, with all his weakness of will and his recent humiliation at St. Gilles, was far stronger in material resources than de Montfort. King Pedro of Aragon had been angered against the Crusaders at Carcassonne, all the more because their temporary numbers made it impossible for him to oppose them, and Pedro had much credit at Rome. He persisted in refusing to accept de Montfort’s homage as Viscount of Carcassonne. John of England who held Gascony, Guienne, and parts of Poitou was, like Pedro of Aragon, brother-in-law and friend of Raymond. John had broken with the Pope for reasons of his own, and was, nevertheless, flourishing like the green bay tree. Otto of Brunswick who had crushed all opposition throughout Germany and most of Italy, and was about to be crowned emperor by Pope Innocent, was John’s favourite nephew. For the present, Otto was strongly pro-papal, but as emperor he would be strong enough to make trouble even for such a pope as Innocent, should he so desire. Altogether, there was ample material for the building up of alliances against the Crusade, and possibly against the Papacy itself.
Against all this de Montfort had chiefly his own stout heart and resourceful brain. His cause was bound up with that of legate Arnaut Amalric, who was prepared to go to any lengths. Innocent would be a tower of strength, provided only King Peter of Aragon did not get at him, and Arnaut Amalric ought to be able to manage the Pope. Finally, Philip Augustus not only stood with the Pope on most political matters but also, as King of France, would be delighted to see “Frenchmen” (that is North Frenchmen) established in southern lordships. While Philip was cautious and would always rather wait for fruit to fall in his lap than risk a fall by climbing the tree after it, still he might move if he saw his way absolutely clear, and he and Innocent were a redoubtable pair.
De Montfort made haste to put himself right with Rome, while insisting, at the same time, on his need for aid. He wrote promptly to Innocent announcing his election, and his purpose of rooting out heresy altogether. He owed allegiance, he said, only to God and the Pope. He promised payment of local Church tithes held up by the heretics, and a hearth-tax throughout his lands for the direct benefit of the Holy See. On the other hand, he somewhat illogically emphasized his need of money, offering to the Pope with one hand while begging from him with the other. Even his men-at-arms, he said, were demanding double pay, and without heavy Church subsidies he could not long maintain himself in Languedoc.
Innocent confirmed Montfort’s acts and titles, and enlarged upon the crushing successes in fulsome letters to Otto of Brunswick whom the Pope himself had just crowned Emperor. But, with a bad situation in Palestine on his hands, his definite financial support of the Albigensian Crusade left something to be desired. The most fruitful of his measures was to empower de Montfort to confiscate all valuables which heretics had deposited for safe keeping with Churchmen throughout Languedoc.
Meanwhile, the Church’s activities were not confined to the Crusade. St. Dominic with his little band of followers continued going up and down Languedoc preaching. Early in September the future saint met de Montfort, and a warm friendship sprang up between them. At the same time Durand of Huesca and his “poor Catholics” were also active. Innocent had to write and reassure the Languedocian bishops, scandalized because Durand and his followers had clung to certain outward marks of their former Waldensianism; at the same time warning the poor Catholics to cooperate with the regular clergy and not try to act independently of them. The Pope understood clearly that orthodox propaganda must be carried on more strongly than ever, if possible, in the existing state of war.