THE ALBIGEOIS CRUSADE
The feudal society in which troubadour poetry had flourished, and by
which alone it could be maintained, was already showing signs of
decadence. Its downfall was precipitated by the religious and political
movement, the Albigeois Crusade, which was the first step towards the
unification of France, but which also broke up the local fiefs,
destroyed the conditions under which the troubadours had flourished and
scattered them abroad in other lands or forced them to seek other means
of livelihood. This is not the place to discuss the origin and the
nature of the Albigeois heresy.[26] The general opinion has almost
invariably considered the heretics as dualists and their belief as a
variation of Manicheism: but a plausible case has been made out for
regarding the heresy as a variant of the Adoptionism which is found
successively in Armenia, in the Balkan peninsula and in Spain, and
perhaps sporadically in Italy and Germany. Whatever its real nature was,
the following facts are clear: it was not an isolated movement, but was
in continuity with beliefs prevalent in many other parts of Europe. It [76]
was largely a poor man's heresy and therefore emerges into the light of
history only when it happens to attract aristocratic adherents or large
masses of people. It was also a pre-Reformation movement and essentially
in opposition to Roman Catholicism. Albi was the first head-quarters of
the heresy, though Toulouse speedily rivalled its importance in this
respect. The Vaudois heresy which became notorious at Lyons about the
same time was a schismatic, not a heretic movement. The Vaudois objected
to the profligacy and worldliness of the Roman Catholic clergy, but did
not quarrel with church doctrine. The Albigenses were no less zealous
than the Vaudois in reproving the church clergy and setting an example
of purity and unselfishness of life. But they also differed profoundly
from the church in matters of doctrine.
Upon the election of Otho as Emperor, in 1208, Germany and Rome were at
peace, and Pope Innocent III. found himself at liberty to devote some
attention to affairs in Southern France. He had already made some
efforts to oppose the growth of heresy: his first emissaries were unable
to produce the least effect and in 1208 he had sent Arnaut of Citeaux
and two Cistercian monks into Southern France with full powers to act.
Their efforts proved fruitless, because Philippe Auguste was no less
indifferent than the provincial lords, who actually favoured the [77]
heretics in many cases; the Roman Catholic bishops also were jealous of
the pope's legates and refused to support them. Not only the laity but
many of the clergy had been seduced: the heretics had translated large
portions of scripture (translations which still remain to us) and
constantly appealed to the scriptures in opposition to the canon laws
and the immorality of Rome. They had a full parochial and diocesan
organisation and were in regular communication with the heretics of
other countries. It was clear that the authority of Southern France was
doomed, unless some vigorous steps to assert her authority were speedily
taken. "Ita per omnes terras multiplicati sunt ut grande periculum
patiatur ecclesia Dei." [27] The efforts of St Dominic were followed by
the murder of the papal legate, Pierre de Castelnau, in 1208, which
created an excitement comparable with that aroused by the murder of
Thomas à Becket, thirty-eight years before, and gave Innocent III. his
opportunity. In the summer of 1209 a great army of crusaders assembled
at Lyons, and Southern France was invaded by a horde composed partly of
religious fanatics, of men who were anxious to gain the indulgences
awarded to crusaders without the danger of a journey overseas, and of
men who were simply bent on plunder. The last stage in the development
of the crusade movement was thereby reached: originally begun to recover [78]
the Holy Sepulchre, it had been extended to other countries against the
avowed enemies of Christianity. Now the movement was to be turned
against erring members of the Christian Church and in the terms of a
metaphor much abused at that period, the Crusader was not only to
destroy the wolf, but to drive the vagrant sheep back into the fold.[28]
Beziers and Carcassonne were captured with massacre; Toulouse was spared
upon the humiliating submission of Raimon VI., and little organised
opposition was offered to the crusading forces under Simon de Montfort.
The following years saw the revolt of Toulouse and the excommunication
of Raimon VI. (1211), the battle of Muret in which Raimon was defeated
and his supporter Pedro of Aragon, was killed (1213), the Lateran
Council (1215), the siege of Toulouse and the death of Simon de Montfort
(1218). The foundation of the Dominican order and of the Inquisition
marked the close of the struggle.
Folquet of Marseilles is a troubadour whose life belongs to these years
of turmoil. He was the son of a Genoese merchant by name Anfos, who
apparently settled in Marseilles for business reasons: Genoa was in
close commercial relations with the South of France during the twelfth
century, as is attested by treaties concluded with Marseilles in 1138
and with Raimon of Toulouse in 1174. Folquet (or Fulco in Latin form) [79]
seems to have carried on his father's business and to have amused his
leisure hours by poetical composition. The Monk of Montandon refers to
him as a merchant in his _sirventes_ upon other troubadours. He is
placed in Paradise by Dante and is the only troubadour who there
appears, no doubt because of his services to the Church. His earliest
poems, written after 1180, were composed in honour of Azalais, the lady
whose favour was sought by Peire Vidal, and to whom Folquet refers by
the _senhal_ of Aimant (magnet). His poems are ingenious dissertations
upon love and we catch little trace of real feeling in them. The stories
of the jealousy of Azalais' sister which drove Folquet to leave
Marseilles are probably apocryphal. Folquet also addressed poems to the
wife of the Count of Montpelier, the daughter of the Emperor of
Constantinople. He wrote a fine _planh_ on the death of Barral of
Marseilles in 1192 and it was about this time that he resolved to enter
the church. His last poem belongs to the year 1195. No doubt the wealth
which he may have brought to the Church as a successful merchant
contributed to his advancement, but Folquet was also an indomitably
energetic character.
Unlike so many of his fellow poets, who retired to monasteries and there
lived out their lives in seclusion, Folquet displayed special talents or [80]
special enthusiasm for the order which he joined. Of the Cistercian
abbey of Toronet in the diocese of Fréjus he became abbot, and in 1205
was made Bishop of Toulouse. He then, in company with St Dominic,
becomes one of the great figures of the Albigeois crusade: in 1209 he
was acting with Simon de Montfort against Raimon VI., the son of his old
patron and benefactor, and persuaded the count to surrender the citadel
of Toulouse to de Montfort and the papal legate. He travelled in
Northern France in order to stir up enthusiasm for the crusade. The
legend is related that, hearing one of his love songs sung by a minstrel
at Paris, he imposed penance upon himself. He helped to establish the
Inquisition in Languedoc, and at the Lateran council of 1215 was the
most violent opponent of Count Raimon. To enter into his history in
detail during this period would be to recount a large portion of the
somewhat intricate history of the crusade. Of his fanaticism, and of the
cruelty with which he waged war upon the heretics, the Count Raimon
Roger of Foix speaks at the Lateran council, when defending himself
against the accusation of heresy.
E die vos de l'avesque, que tant n'es afortitz,
qu'en la sua semblansa es Dieus e nos trazitz,
que ab cansos messongeiras e ab motz coladitz,
dont totz horn es perdutz qui·ls canta ni los ditz, [81]
ez ab sos reproverbis afilatz e forbitz
ez ab los nostres dos, don fo eniotglaritz,
ez ab mala doctrina es tant fort enriquitz
c'om non auza ren dire a so qu'el contraditz.
Pero cant el fo abas ni monges revestitz
en la sua abadia fo si·l lums eseurzitz
qu'anc no i ac be ni pauza, tro qu'el ne fo ichitz;
e cant fo de Tholosa avesques elegitz
per trastota la terra es tals focs espanditz
que ia mais per nulha aiga no sira escantitz;
que plus de D.M., que de grans que petitz,
i fe perdre las vidas e·ls cors e·ls esperitz.
Per la fe qu'icu vos deg, als sous faitz e als ditz
ez a la captenensa sembla mielhs Antecritz
que messatges de Roma.
"And of the bishop, who is so zealous, I tell you that in him both God
and we ourselves are betrayed; for with lying songs and insinuating
words, which are the damnation of any who sings or speaks them, and by
his keen polished admonitions, and by our presents wherewith he
maintained himself as _joglar_, and by his evil doctrine, he has risen
so high, that one dare say nothing to that which he opposes. So when he
was vested as abbot and monk, was the light in his abbey put out in such
wise that therein was no comfort or rest, until that he was gone forth
from thence; and when he was chosen bishop of Toulouse such a fire was
spread throughout the land that never for any water will it be quenched;
for there did he bring destruction of life and body and soul upon more [82]
than fifteen hundred of high and low. By the faith which I owe to you,
by his deeds and his words and his dealings, more like is he to
Anti-Christ than to an envoy of Rome." (_Chanson de la croisade contre
les Albigeois_, v. 3309.)
Folquet died on December 25, 1231, and was buried at the Cistercian
Abbey of Grandselve, some thirty miles north-west of Toulouse. Such
troubadours as Guilhem Figueira and Peire Cardenal, who inveighed
against the action of the Church during the crusade, say nothing of him,
and upon their silence and that of the biography as regards his
ecclesiastical life the argument has been founded that Folquet the
troubadour and Folquet the bishop were two different persons. There is
no evidence to support this theory. Folquet's poems enjoyed a high
reputation. The minnesinger, Rudolf, Count of Neuenberg (end of the
twelfth century) imitated him, as also did the Italians Rinaldo d'Aquino
and Jacopo da Lentino.
The troubadours as a rule stood aloof from the religious quarrels of the
age. But few seem to have joined the crusaders, as Perdigon did. Most of
their patrons were struggling for their existence: when the invaders
succeeded in establishing themselves, they had no desire for court
poetry. The troubadour's occupation was gone, and those who wished for
an audience were obliged to seek beyond the borders of France. Hence it [83]
is somewhat remarkable to find the troubadour Raimon de Miraval, of
Carcassonne, continuing to sing, as though perfect tranquillity
prevailed. His wife, Gaudairenca, was a poetess, and Paul Heyse has made
her the central figure of one of his charming _Troubadour Novellen_.
Raimon's poems betray no forebodings of the coming storm; when it broke,
he lost his estate and fled to Raimon of Toulouse for shelter. The
arrival of Pedro II. of Aragon at Toulouse in 1213 and his alliance with
the Count of Toulouse cheered the troubadour's spirits: he thought there
was a chance that he might recover his estate. He compliments Pedro on
his determination in one poem and in another tells his lady, "the king
has promised me that in a short time, I shall have Miraval again and my
Audiart shall recover his Beaucaire; then ladies and their lovers will
regain their lost delights." Such was the attitude of many troubadours
towards the crusade and they seem to represent the views of a certain
section of society. There is no trace on this side of any sense of
patriotism; they hated the crusade because it destroyed the comforts of
their happy existence. But the South of France had never as a whole
acquired any real sense of nationalism: there was consequently no
attempt at general or organised resistance and no leader to inspire such [84]
attempts was forth-coming.
On the other hand, special districts such as Toulouse, showed real
courage and devotion. The crusaders often found much difficulty in
maintaining a force adequate to conduct their operations after the first
energy of the invasion had spent itself, and had the Count of Toulouse
been an energetic and vigorous character, he might have been able to
reverse the ultimate issue of the crusade. But, like many other petty
lords his chief desire was to be left alone and he was at heart as
little interested in the claims of Rome as in the attractions of heresy.
His townspeople thought otherwise and the latter half of the _Chanson de
la Croisade_ reflects their hopes and fears and describes their
struggles with a sympathy that often reaches the height of epic
splendour. Similarly, certain troubadours were by no means absorbed in
the practice of their art or the pursuit of their intrigues. Bernard
Sicart de Marvejols has left us a vigorous satire against the crusaders
who came for plunder, and the clergy who drove them on. The greatest
poet of this calamitous time is Peire Cardenal. His work falls within
the years 1210 and 1230. The short notice that we have of him says that
he belonged to Puy Notre Dame in Velay, that he was the son of a noble
and was intended for an ecclesiastical career: when he was of age, he
was attracted by the pleasures of the world, became a troubadour and [85]
went from court to court, accompanied by a _joglar_: he was especially
favoured by King Jaime I. of Aragon and died at the age of nearly a
hundred years. He was no singer of love and the three of his _chansos_
that remain are inspired by the misogyny that we have noted in the case
of Marcabrun. Peire Cardenal's strength lay in the moral _sirventes_: he
was a fiery soul, aroused to wrath by the sight of injustice and
immorality and the special objects of his animosity are the Roman
Catholic clergy and the high nobles. "The clergy call themselves
shepherds and are murderers under a show of saintliness: when I look
upon their dress I remember Isengrin (the wolf in the romance of
Reynard, the Fox) who wished one day to break into the sheep-fold: but
for fear of the dogs he dressed himself in a sheepskin and then devoured
as many as he would. Kings and emperors, dukes, counts and knights used
to rule the world; now the priests have the power which they have gained
by robbery and treachery, by hypocrisy, force and preaching." "Eagles
and vultures smell not the carrion so readily as priests and preachers
smell out the rich: a rich man is their friend and should a sickness
strike him down, he must make them presents to the loss of his
relations. Frenchmen and priests are reputed bad and rightly so: usurers [86]
and traitors possess the whole world, for with deceit have they so
confounded the world that there is no class to whom their doctrine is
unknown." Peire inveighs against the disgraces of particular orders; the
Preaching Friars or Jacobin monks who discuss the relative merits of
special wines after their feasts, whose lives are spent in disputes and
who declare all who differ from them to be Vaudois heretics, who worm
men's private affairs out of them, that they may make themselves feared:
some of his charges against the monastic orders are quite unprintable.
No less vigorous are his invectives against the rich and the social
evils of his time. The tone of regret that underlies Guiraut de
Bornelh's satires in this theme is replaced in Peire Cardenal's
_sirventes_ by a burning sense of injustice. Covetousness, the love of
pleasure, injustice to the poor, treachery and deceit and moral laxity
are among his favourite themes. "He who abhors truth and hates the
right, careers to hell and directs his course to the abyss: for many a
man builds walls and palaces with the goods of others and yet the
witless world says that he is on the right path, because he is clever
and prosperous. As silver is refined in the fire, so the patient poor
are purified under grievous oppression: and with what splendour the
shameless rich man may feed and clothe himself, his riches bring him
nought but pain, grief and vexation of spirit. But that affrights him [87]
not: capons and game, good wine and the dainties of the earth console
him and cheer his heart. Then he prays to God and says 'I am poor and in
misery.' Were God to answer him He would say, 'thou liest!'" To
illustrate the degeneracy of the age, Peire relates a fable, perhaps the
only instance of this literary form among the troubadours, upon the
theme that if all the world were mad, the one sane man would be in a
lunatic asylum: "there was a certain town, I know not where, upon which
a rain fell of such a nature that all the inhabitants upon whom it fell,
lost their reason. All lost their reason except one, who escaped because
he was asleep in his house when the rain came. When he awoke, he rose:
the rain had ceased, and he went out among the people who were all
committing follies. One was clothed, another naked, another was spitting
at the sky: some were throwing sticks and stones, tearing their coats,
striking and pushing... The sane man was deeply surprised and saw that
they were mad; nor could he find a single man in his senses. Yet greater
was their surprise at him, and as they saw that he did not follow their
example, they concluded that he had lost his senses.... So one strikes
him in front, another behind; he is dashed to the ground and trampled
under foot... at length he flees to his house covered with mud, bruised [88]
and half dead and thankful for his escape": The mad town, says Peire
Cardenal, is the present world: the highest form of intelligence is the
love and fear of God, but this has been replaced by greed, pride and
malice; consequently the "sense of God" seems madness to the world and
he who refuses to follow the "sense of the world" is treated as a
madman.
Peire Cardenal is thus by temperament a moral preacher; he is not merely
critical of errors, but has also a positive faith to propound. He is not
an opponent of the papacy as an institution: the confession of faith
which he utters in one of his _sirventes_ shows that he would have been
perfectly satisfied with the Roman ecclesiastical and doctrinal system,
had it been properly worked. In this respect he differs from a
contemporary troubadour, Guillem Figueira, whose violent satire against
Rome shows him as opposed to the whole system from the papacy downwards.
He was a native of Toulouse and migrated to Lombardy and to the court of
Frederick II. when the crusade drove him from his home. "I wonder not,
Rome, that men go astray, for thou hast cast the world into strife and
misery; virtue and good works die and are buried because of thee,
treacherous Rome, thou guiding-star, thou root and branch of all
iniquity... Greed blindeth thy eyes, and too close dost thou shear thy [89]
sheep... thou forgivest sins for money, thou loadest thyself with a
shameful burden. Rome, we know of a truth that with the bait of false
forgiveness, thou hast snared in misery the nobility of France, the
people of Paris and the noble King Louis (VIII., who died in the course
of the Albigeois crusade); thou didst bring him to his death, for thy
false preaching enticed him from his land. Rome, thou has the outward
semblance of a lamb, so innocent is thy countenance, but within thou are
a ravening wolf, a crowned snake begotten of a viper and therefore the
devil greeteth thee as the friend of his bosom." This sirventes was
answered by a _trobairitz_, Germonde of Montpelier, but her reply lacks
the vigour and eloquence of the attack.
It is not to be supposed that the troubadours turned to religious poetry
simply because the Albigeois crusade had raised the religious question.
Purely devotional poetry is found at an earlier period.[29] It appears
at first only sporadically, and some of the greatest troubadours have
left no religious poems that have reached us. The fact is, that the
nature of troubadour poetry and its homage to the married woman were
incompatible with the highest standard of religious devotion. The famous
_alba_ of Guiraut de Bornelh invokes the "glorious king, true light and
splendour, Lord Almighty," for the purpose of praying that the lovers [90]
for whom the speaker is keeping watch may be undisturbed in interchange
of their affections. Prayer for the success of attempted adultery is a
contradiction in terms. For a theory of religion which could regard the
Deity as a possible accomplice in crime, the Church of Southern France
in the twelfth century is to blame: we cannot expect that the
troubadours in general should be more religious than the professional
exponents of religion. On the other hand, poems of real devotional
feeling are found, even from the earliest times: the sensual Count of
Poitiers, the first troubadour known to us, concludes his career with a
poem of resignation bidding farewell to the world, "leaving all that I
love, the brilliant life of chivalry, but since it pleases God, I resign
myself and pray Him to keep me among His own." Many troubadours, as has
been said, ended their lives in monasteries and the disappointments or
griefs which drove them to this course often aroused religious feelings,
regrets for past follies and resolutions of repentance, which found
expression in poetry. Peire d'Auvergne wrote several religious hymns
after his retirement from the world; these are largely composed of
reiterated articles of the Christian faith in metrical form and are as
unpoetical as they are orthodox, Crusade poems and _planhs_ upon the [91]
deaths of famous nobles or patrons are religious only in a secondary
sense. A fine religious _alba_ is ascribed to Folquet of Marseilles--
Vers Dieus, e·l vostre nom e de sancta Maria
m'esvelherai hueimais, pus l'estela del dia
ven daus Jerusalem que' m'ensenha qu'ien dia:
estatz sus e levatz,
senhor, que Dieu amatz!
que·l jorns es aprosmatz
e la nuech ten sa via;
e sia·n Dieus lauzatz
per nos e adoratz,
e·l preguem que·ens don patz
a tota nostra via.
La nuech vai e·l jorns ve
ab elar eel e sere,
e l'alba no's rete
ans ven belh' e complia.
"True God, in Thy name and in the name of Saint Mary will I awake
henceforth, since the star of day rises from o'er Jerusalem, bidding me
say, 'Up and arise, sirs, who love God! For the day is nigh, and the
night departs; and let God be praised and adored by us and let us pray
Him that He give us peace for all our lives. Night goes and day comes
with clear serene sky, and the dawn delays not but comes fair and
perfect.'"
At the close of the Albigeois crusade the Virgin Mary becomes the theme
of an increasing number of lyric poems. These are not like the farewells [92]
to the world, uttered by weary troubadours, and dictated by individual
circumstances, but are inspired by an increase of religious feeling in
the public to whom the troubadours appealed. Peire Cardenal began the
series and a similar poem is attributed to Perdigon, a troubadour who
joined the crusaders and fought against his old patrons; though the poem
is probably not his, it belongs to a time but little posterior to the
crusade. The cult of the Virgin had obvious attractions as a subject for
troubadours whose profane songs would not have been countenanced by St
Dominic and his preachers and religious poetry dealing with the subject
could easily borrow not only the metrical forms but also many technical
expressions which troubadours had used in singing of worldly love. They
could be the servants of a heavenly mistress and attribute to her all
the graces and beauty of form and character. It has been supposed that
the Virgin was the mysterious love sung by Jaufre Rudel and the
supposition is not inconsistent with the language of his poems. Guiraut
Riquier, the last of the troubadours, provides examples of this new
_genre_: from the fourteenth century it was the only kind of poem
admitted by the school of Toulouse and the Jeux Floraux crowned many
poems of this nature. These, however, have little in common with
classical troubadour poetry except language. The following stanzas from [93]
the well-known hymn to the Virgin by Peire de Corbiac, will give an idea
of the character of this poetry.
Domna, rosa ses espina,
sobre totas flors olens,
verga seca frug fazens,
terra que ses labor grana,
estela, del solelh maire,
noirissa del vostre paire,
el mon nulha no·us semelha
ni londana ni vezina.
Domna, verge pura e fina,
ans que fos l'enfantamens,
et apres tot eissamens,
receup en vos carn humana
Jesu Crist, nostre salvaire,
si com ses trencamen faire
intra·l bels rais, quan solelha,
per la fenestra veirina.
Domna, estela marina
de las autras plus luzens,
la mars nos combat e·l vens;
mostra nos via certana;
car si·ns vols a bon port traire
non tem nau ni governaire
ni tempest que·ns destorbelha
ni·l sobern de la marina.
"Lady, rose without thorn, sweet above all flowers, dry rod bearing
fruit, earth bringing forth fruit without toil, star, mother of the sun,
nurse of thine own Father, in the world no woman is like to thee, [94]
neither far nor near.
Lady, virgin pure and fair before the birth was and afterwards the same,
Jesus Christ our Saviour received human flesh in thee, just as without
causing flaw, the fair ray enters through the window-pane when the sun
shines.
Lady, star of the sea, brighter than the other stars, the sea and the
wind buffet us; show thou us the right way: for if thou wilt bring us to
a fair haven, ship nor helmsman fears not tempest nor tide lest it
trouble us."