Jack Ludlow: Conquest

It was natural for Roger to seek the meaning behind those words: that was in his nature and he was pleased at the slight look of impatience in the abbot’s eye when he did not immediately respond or protest. Eventually he knew he must speak but the pause had removed some of the older man’s air of superiority.

‘And you, do you share this view?’

‘We will come to that in a moment, though I would have good cause to. Scarce a day has gone by in the last thirty years that some part of Monte Cassino has not been raided by your confreres. Cattle and sheep stolen, wheat fields trampled, vines cut down, olive trees that saw Roman legionaries pass by destroyed for naught but mischief. For myself, if my family has been dispossessed of its holdings and titles in Benevento then the root cause is the race of which you are a part — indeed, not just the race, but the family.’

‘And one ennobled by a reigning pope.’

‘After he lost a battle,’ Desiderius replied, his tone somewhat sharper; that pleased Roger, he had thrown him a little. ‘Pope Leo may have ennobled your brothers but I doubt he took pleasure in the act: he was, after all, little more than a prisoner for two whole years.’

‘If Pope Leo was coerced as you imply, he merely made legitimate in the eyes of Christendom a title my brother already held by conquest.’

‘A man cannot just take to himself a title.’

‘Like the Prince of Capua?’

Now the abbot looked down at his own hands for a moment: clearly he saw the need to compose himself, for matters were not proceeding entirely as he wished. When he looked up again it was with a softer countenance.

‘My son, I am not trying to deceive you, much as you may think it in my interests to do so. Perhaps if I speak plain and tell you that I have come to see what others have not, that the notion of pushing you Normans out of Italy is no longer in the interests of this monastery or the Church of which it is part.’

‘I may be new to Italy but I think that a task of some magnitude.’

‘It could be done, my son, if Byzantium combined with the Western Emperor as well as the Pope. Powerful as you have become, you Normans could not withstand such a combination.’

‘Is such an alliance possible?’

‘Possible, yes, likely, no, but is it desirable? To many it would be.’

‘But not to you?’

‘My concern is not for me.’ Desiderius waved a bony hand. ‘Not even for Monte Cassino.’

‘What bargain did you strike with my brother-in-law today?’

‘You are sure there was one?’ Now it was Roger’s turn to smile, which got him, in response, a slow nod. ‘This monastery stands on the border between Campania and the Papal States. It is large and rich in holdings, even if it is humble in intention, thus a temptation to anyone with greed in their heart. In itself, to keep that safe would be worth much, but when Richard says he will protect this place he is also saying he will protect that border, something that has never been given as a pledge before. For that, in return, I have promised that I will seek to get the Pope to confirm him as the true and rightful Prince of Capua.’

‘Even ignorant as I am, I know Capua is an imperial fief. I cannot see the present emperor, even if he is a child, being too cheered by such a confirmation which denies him his prerogatives.’

Having said that, Roger was slightly thrown by the way Desiderius did not respond. The abbot just looked at him keenly and, in doing so, he forced Roger to think hard and seek a conclusion.

‘You wish me to speak to my brother?’ That got a nod and nailed an obvious conclusion. ‘The Normans combined could protect the Pope against interference by any emperor, man or boy.’

‘Even to the way in which we anoint the Vicar of Christ.’

Roger was genuinely surprised. ‘You wish to exclude the emperor from papal elections?’

‘Enough for now, my son, these are thoughts to pass on to your brother of Apulia, and given he is known to have a sharp mind, I am sure he will see what needs to be seen.’

‘Why no papal alliance with Byzantium?’

The answer did not come immediately, which left Roger to wonder how much he was not being told: the man with whom he was conversing was as clever, and perhaps as cunning, as his brother Robert.

‘An embassy was sent to Constantinople to discuss certain matters of difference with the Greek Church, celibacy for the priesthood, the place of the Holy Trinity in doctrine and the supremacy of Rome in all matters ecclesiastical. Intended to unite both branches of the faith it has achieved the opposite. The Emperor Constantine might badly want an alliance against you Normans to try and regain the Catapanate but to do that the Eastern Church must bow the knee to Rome in all things. He will not get one for fear of his patriarch and the anger of the people who see their faith threatened. It is not something many eyes see, but I do. I fear that we may be on the edge of an abyss in relations with the Greek Church.’

‘Is Rome at fault?’

‘My son, in any dispute, both parties are usually at fault.’ The abbot stood up to underline the interview was over. ‘But when the dust settles someone has triumphed and the blame always lies with the loser. When to travel on south?’

‘At first light tomorrow, there is nothing for me here.’

Desiderius made the sign of the cross and blessed his journey.

While Roger made his way south in the company of his brother-in-law, to part company at Capua, the Abbot Desiderius travelled north to Rome to meet with the Pope, who both trusted him and valued his counsel, but more importantly to seek out Hildebrand, ranked as no more than a deacon but the man who ran the affairs of the Church and thus its most powerful voice. He would seek to persuade both that what he had done to protect Monte Cassino was both wise and necessary and that the papacy should adopt the same attitude.

Hildebrand was a churchman with one major aim: to free the process of papal elections from the power of the Holy Roman Emperor as well as the leading aristocratic families of Rome and the scum they controlled. He believed only those anointed as priests and who had risen to high office should choose the man to lead the Christian faithful. Hildebrand was not alone in this: there were many cardinals, bishops and abbots who wished for the same, but the difference between the desire for something and the achieving of the aim was never more stark. The empire had the military power to impose its will and the convocations of the Church did not: the rich Roman aristocrats could pay to put riotous mobs on the streets, which made the city ungovernable. Popes had been more often a prisoner of the Roman mob than ever they had been of the de Hautevilles.

Victor II was not a strong man and, being German, had sought and received imperial approval in his election: he might have wished it otherwise, but he was not one to raise his head above the parapet of the Castel St Angelo or risk his Lateran Palace to fight for it. Being a vacillator he depended on certain advisors to make up his mind, the problem being he was inclined to adopt the view of the last one to which he spoke. Cardinal Ascletin Pierleoni was rich and a powerful voice in the Curia; he was also a man who had harboured for many years a desire for the highest office, only to be thwarted time and again. This he blamed on his Jewish background — his family had converted to Christianity — never once realising that it was the intense dislike his fellows had for him which had barred his passage to the papacy.

Faced with the dilemma presented by Desiderius, Victor had called in both Hildebrand and Ascletin, and was thus presented with diametrically opposing views of how matters should proceed, which was the last thing inclined to settle the mind of a man who was a weathervane. Even if Victor wielded great power and could command such men to bow to his will, he lacked the fibre necessary to impose that authority.