Wednesday, 14 August 2013

The divine plan in Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay, pt 2

THE ELEVENTH MIRACLE


After the apparent divine nap ended, Peter saw God's hand as once again directing events, since His champion was once more militarily successful.  Simon de Montfort subdued the entire Minervois, except for Minerve itself and Ventajou, Peter tell us.  He then continues, in VII, § 144, p. 79:

"One day a miracle occurred near Cabaret, which I must not pass over.  The crusaders from France uprooted the vineyards of Cabaret, on the Count's orders.  One of our adversaries shot at one of our men with a cross-bow, and hit him in the chest, just where the sign of the cross was fixed.  Everyone thought he must be dead, since he wore no armour; but he was found to be quite unhurt -- the bolt had failed even to penetrate his clothing, but had rebounded as if it had struck the hardest stone.  Such is the wonderful power of God, his immense strength."
This miracle story is doubtless familiar in form.  In modern versions, it is a bullet not a bolt which is stopped and it is usually stopped by a pocket bible and not a sewn cloth cross.  Nonetheless, it is an often-recounted miracle.  David Emery lists several examples from the 17th century to the present at http://urbanlegends.about.com/b/2007/08/15/bible-stops-bullet-saves-soldiers-life.htm.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay intended to demonstrate God's intervention on behalf of the crusaders.  Since He could not "be seen more clearly to do great things" in the overall course of the campaign, this anecdote sufficed instead.

THE TWELFTH MIRACLE


Simon de Montfort then engages in some minor raids -- he rides up to the gates of the castle at Foix and then retreats again, destroying crops on his way, he besieges a minor castle near Montreal "to show his enemies that he was not afraid of them".  In the summer of 1210, de Montfort was reinforced with additional troops and finally laid siege to Minerve itself.  This was a tremendous undertaking as Minerve is protected by deep gorges on either side and accessible from only one direction, which is narrow and flanked by vertical cliffs.  This was the first major siege conducted under Simon de Montfort's leadership and he set up a remarkably large siege engine on the other side of the ravine to the east.  This petrary was important enough to have prompted the defenders of Minerve to sortie to attempt to destroy it and for Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay to have God intervene to protect it in VII, § 153, p. 83:

"Our men struggled for some time to bring about the capture of Minerve, until one Sunday night the defenders came out and went to the place where the petrary had been constructed.  They filled baskets with oakum, dry wood, rubbish and fat and attached them with hooks to the back of the petrary.  The baskets were set on fire and the flames soon rose high.  It was summer and very warm, about the time of the feast of John the Baptist, as I mentioned previously.  However, by God's will it happened that one of the men supplying the petrary retired just at that moment to satisfy a call of nature.  He saw the fire and shouted; one of the enemy engaged in setting the fire threw a spear, and wounded him severely.  The alarm was then raised in the camp and a crowd rushed to defend the petrary, so successfully and with such miraculous speed that it was out of action no longer than the time taken to fire two shots."

Although God plays a minimal role in events here, the inclusion of certain of the events attributed to divine intervention or miracles is telling.  It was by divine will that the crusading siege engineer was inspired "just at that moment" to relieve himself.  Even in such minor matters, Peter can see the divine plan in action.  Although nudged by God to be the one to raise the alarm, this fellow is not protected by Him, as was the uprooter of grapevines at Cabaret.  This one is badly wounded.  The speed of the army in response is "miraculous" but it is responding within its own camp.  In such small ways, Peter grants the offensive against Minerve divine support.  As he writes, it was no mere mortal victory which followed.  "Christ had captured the place."

The siege was brought to a close when the defenders ran out of provisions and negotiated a surrender.  The negotiations between Simon de Montfort and William, lord of Minerve, were interrupted "suddenly and quite unexpectedly" by the arrival of Arnau Amalric and another legate, Master Thedisius.  The abbot of Citeaux did not wish a simple discussion of terms; "he wanted the enemies of Christ to die but as a monk and priest, he did not dare condemn them to death.  He therefore looked for some means of inducing either the Count or William ... to go back on the agreement they had made to submit to arbitration."  His stratagem successful and the discussion of terms disrupted, William then offers an unconditional surrender.  This, however, still does not seem sufficient to please the Count and the legates.  In the end, over 140 civilian citizens of surrendered Minerve were burnt alive.  To Peter's surprise, "a little later William renounced the allegiance he had sworn to God and the Count, abandoned them and allied himself with enemies of the faith."  It seems William of Minerve was not as impressed as our Cistercian author by two more signs of God's approval of the crusade.  Peter immediately recounts them.

THE THIRTEENTH AND FOURTEENTH MIRACLES


In VII, § 158 and 159, pp. 85 and 86, Peter writes:

"I must not pass over two miracles which occurred at the siege of Minerve.  When the army first arrived to start the siege, there was a spring nearby which produced only a little water; but when our men came, Divine compassion ensured that it flowed in such abundance that it provided enough for men and horses throughout the siege, which lasted for almost seven weeks.  When the army left, the flow was reduced to a very small amount as before.  Such are the mighty works of God, so large the Redeemer's bounty!

When the Count left Minerve, the footsoldiers set fire to all the huts which the crusaders had made out of branches and leaves.  They were very dry, and caught fire at once, so that the whole valley was filled with flames as if a great city was burning.  There was, however, one hut, made of leaves like the others, in which a priest had worshipped during the siege, shut in by the other huts.  This was miraculously saved from the flames: indeed it showed not a trace of having been burnt.  As I have heard from venerable churchmen who were there, when our men rushed to see the miracle, they found that the huts that had been consumed were separated from the hut which survived by only half a foot.  Such is the immense power of the Lord!"


Now Minerve sits at the confluence of two rivers, Le Briant and La Cesse, the passage of which has carved the deep gorges which border the town. 

http://modestine.blogspot.co.uk/2005/11/cathar-country.html
The level of water in these rivers is highly variable and they may go underground completely during the summer.  According to the town's tourism website, the Cesse is "a river full of tricks up its sleeve as it disappears underground, in the heat of summer, in this wild landscape of Causses." (http://www.southfrance.com/minerve.html)  I visited Minerve in June of 2012, and saw some water in the bottom of the gorge, although much less than in the picture above.  There was also a sign warning tourists that the level of the water could change rapidly.

Simon de Montfort and his crusaders were also in Minerve in June, eight hundred and two years previously.  While conditions may have changed somewhat in the interim, there is no reason to think that the water levels were constant then.  Nonetheless, water was always expected to be somewhat accessible.  The town in 1210 relied on water from either a well at the base of the town or from the river itself if it flowed above ground.  The presence of fresh water sufficient for the army for seven weeks (June and July) was convenient but could not have been completely unexpected.  De Montfort would have been a fool indeed to have camped his army for a prolonged siege without access to sufficient water unless a miracle occurred.  Only in Peter's analysis would the army having sufficient access to water be proof that God favoured the besiegers.

The second miracle which Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay reports in this section, that of the unburnt hut, is notable only in that there is once again an allusion to Peter's sources for the miracle -- the first in quite a long time.  "Venerable churchmen who were there" told the story.  We heard previously that both Arnau Amalric and Master Thedisius arrived at the surrender of Minerve, and § 155 notes that Peter's uncle Guy, the Abbot of Vaux-de-Cernay, had joined during the siege, but it does not seem that they were the sources for this miracle, as it seems likely that Peter would have cited them if they were.  There is, in fact, a further distancing of these sources from the event itself as these "venerable churchmen" only reported the observations of "our men who rushed to see the miracle" and who measured the six inches separating the unburnt hut from the burnt ones.  "Such is the immense power of the Lord!"

THE FIFTEENTH MIRACLE


Without a pause after these last two miracles at Minerve, Peter begins the narration of another miracle elsewhere, in VII, § 160, pp. 86-87:

"Here I will include an account of a miracle which occurred at Toulouse whilst the Count was besieging Minerve.  There is in the city, near the palace of the Count of Toulouse, a church consecrated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose walls had recently been whitewashed.  One day, towards evening, crosses began to appear in great numbers on the walls of the church on all sides, which were seen as silvery, brighter than the walls themselves.  They were constantly in motion, appearing suddenly then quickly vanishing.  Many people saw them but could not point them out to others; a cross that someone tried to point to would disappear before he could lift his finger.  These crosses appeared as flashes of all sizes, large, middling and small.  This sight lasted for almost fifteen days, each evening, until almost everyone in Toulouse had seen it.  To encourage the reader to give credence to this account, he should know that Fulk Bishop of Toulouse and Raymond Bishop of Uzes, not to mention the Abbot of Citeaux, legate of the Apostolic See, and Master Thedisius, all of whom were in Toulouse at the time, saw the miracle and gave me a detailed account.

It happened that the chaplain of the church could not see the crosses, so one day he went into the church and gave himself over to prayer, asking the Lord to deign to show him what almost everyone else could see.  Suddenly he saw innumerable crosses -- not on the walls, but in the air about him, one of them larger and more prominent than the rest.  Soon the large cross moved out of the church; the others followed and began to move straight towards the city gate.  The priest, utterly dumbfounded, followed the crosses, and as they were moving out of the city, there appeared to him, coming towards the city, someone of awe-inspiring and noble aspect, holding an unsheathed sword.  Helped by the crosses and just at the entrance to the gates, this figure then slew a huge man who was emerging from the city.  The priest, almost fainting with astonishment, ran to the Bishop of Uzes, threw himself at his feet and told him the whole story."


The credibility of this miracle story is something which Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay addresses repeatedly in the text "to encourage the reader to give credence to this account".  The dancing, flashing crosses were elusive.  Some people saw them; other people didn't when they were pointed out.  They occurred in "great numbers" but when someone tried to point to one, it could no longer be seen.  It was such a generally agreed upon phenomenon (albeit impossible as described) that either two bishops and two legates claimed to see what wasn't there, or Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay claimed they gave him "a detailed account" of their observations when they didn't.

There were certainly those who didn't see what those magnates are claimed to have seen.  The chaplain of the church, who was one of those who could not, obviously felt some pressure to concur with the rising consensus that the phenomenon was actually occurring (not constantly, but "every evening").  Not being able to see the crosses even after "almost fifteen days" must have been difficult for the chaplain of a church where a miracle was occurring that was seen by "almost everyone in Toulouse".  This chaplain, after his fortnight of unsuccessful effort, turned to prayer as a last resort to join the community of those who now claimed to have seen the crosses which he had not.  It is interesting that a divine intervention was needed for him to see the phenomenon, even in Peter's account, and it begs the question of how much devotion and how much desire to see the crosses was necessary for others to witness the miracle.

Now when the chaplain's prayers were answered, he saw a very great deal.  So much, in fact, that even Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay may not intend to say that what the chaplain saw was real.  There is one indication in the text which suggests that Peter may intend this to be read as a divinely inspired vision, rather than a divinely created event.  Peter writes that the "awe-inspiring and noble" figure "appeared to him".  He does not just write that the chaplain saw the figure.  He also does not mention any other witnesses, although the event occurred "just at the entrance to the gates" of Tououse -- a place sure to have other people present.  Certainly if anyone else saw the combat between the noble figure, assisted by the dancing crosses, or the "huge man" emerging from the city, they did not mention it in other sources or merit inclusion in this one.

After either receiving this illusory vision (or witnessing this dramatic event) the priest "ran to the bishop of Uzes" and "threw himself at his feet".  Perhaps this indicates a desire to be forgiven for having doubted, as such a position of supplication was not usual for a chaplain to a bishop of another diocese.

Perhaps because of the wholly unbelievable nature of this story, Peter is careful to supply his sources and they are of the highest quality.  Four notable figures (the legates and the bishops) personally witnessed the miracle of the flashing crosses.  One of these received the information about the slain giant at the gates directly from the eyewitness and passed it directly to our chronicler (I assume, since Raymond Bishop of Uzes personally told Peter about the former part).  If the proximity of notable direct sources to an author is an indication of the reliability of information, then this incident is perhaps the best attested event of the Albigensian crusade.  If we believed in the possibility of flashing crosses flying along streets and of giants, we would have no reason to doubt.

As usual when such stories appear, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay includes miracles without context, while the other sources supply context without miracles.  Neither William of Tudela, nor William of Puylaurens (who was close to Bishop Fulk) noted this miracle.  Both of them, however, described the turmoil occurring in Toulouse at this time.  Mark Pegg, in "A Most Holy War" (pp. 100-103) captures the situation in its context.

Arnau Amalric and Master Thedisius had been engaged in unpleasant negotiations with the consuls who ruled Toulouse and were obliged to seek absolution from Thedisius by papal edict.  Fulk, arbitrating in a rather partisan manner between the two sides, extorted the staggering sum of 1,000 pounds from the consuls, although only half managed to be collected.  Meanwhile, Fulk had organized a vigilante organization of "crusaders" within Toulouse itself who engaged in riots and other violence, expelling people accused of heresy and seizing their property, and especially targeting moneylenders.  So unpopular was this "fraternity" that other citizens of Toulouse formed a rival armed group to oppose them and vicious fighting raged throughout the city.  Ten prominent citizens were packed off to Pamiers as hostages to ensure the payment of the outstanding money promised to the Church. 

In the midst of this bedlam, Count Raymond of Toulouse returned from Rome after a fairly successful meeting with Pope Innocent III, who instructed the legates to absolve him of the crimes for which he had been censured so that his conditional excommunication could be lifted.  Unwilling to do so, the legates were at this time engaged in all manner of efforts to implement his excommunication despite his strenuous efforts to make good with the Church.  Peter describes a "secret meeting" between Arnau Amalric and Master Thedisius in which they discuss how to avoid granting purification to the Count, despite the Pope's instructions.  "As he pondered anxiously over these problems," Peter writes in VII, § 163, p. 88, "the Lord opened up the way for him and suggested a means of denying purification to the Count".  It is interesting to note that Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay gives credit for Arnau Amalric's subversion of the Pope's instructions to God Himself.  With divine prompting, Arnau Amalric then recalled a remark in one of the Pope's letters which he could interpret (with a bit of a stretch) to mean that he could withhold absolution until Count Raymond had fulfilled all instructions previously given to him.  Of course, demands and negotiations over minor matters had been ongoing for several years and "a great many instructions had been given to the Count" by the Pope and various representatives during that time.  A sham council was therefore set up which excommunicated both Raymond and "all his supporters and helpers" despite his recent reconciliation at Rome.  "However, it was necessary to avoid giving the impression that he wished to be unfair to the Count or do him any wrong," notes Peter.

It was at around this time that the miracle of the crosses is said to have occurred, and Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay explains the situation of the Count's return and the Pope's instructions immediately after the miracle.  The symbolism of the combat to which the chaplain bore witness must be understood, then, in view of this conflict.  An angelic outsider slaying the giant who came from within Toulouse with the assistance of the sign of the cross could easily be seen as the victory of the Church and her crusaders over the intransigent consuls and traitorous Count who represented the city.  Such a reading of the text, and it is not the only possible reading, might have been more apparent to a contemporary audience than it is to us.  At any rate, the miracle story is so odd and otherwise difficult to interpret that other events in Toulouse at that time must be considered in its explanation.

THE SIXTEENTH MIRACLE


The siege of Termes began in August of 1210 and ended that November.  Even considering that it was a lengthy and important siege, the amount of text which Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay devotes to it is surprising.  The sieges of Beziers, Carcassonne and Minerve each occupied 3 or 4 sections of the Historia, but the siege of Termes fills 21 -- VII, §§ 171-191, pp. 91-100.  Although ultimately successful, Simon de Montfort experienced several setbacks, inducing another round of rhetorical flexibility from our Cistercian author, not seen since the last time things went badly wrong in the crusading army after Carcassonne.

The castle at Termes, "was marvellously, indeed unbelievably, strong and in human estimation appeared to be quite impregnable".  The ruins which stand there today atop their mountain only hint at the formidable fortress which stood at the beginning of the 13th century.  This was to be one of the most impressive sieges of the Albigensian crusade.

http://www.aude.fr/site/5/290-les-sites-poles-du-pays-cathare.htm

The castle at Termes was so well positioned and provisioned and the initial army besieging it so small that the forces of Raymond, the lord of Termes, had little reason to fear Simon de Montfort and "they were able to come and go freely to obtain water and whatever else they needed whilst our men watched, too weak to oppose them."  This situation was only changed by the arrival of large number of reinforcements from France, led by Bishop Renaud of Chartres, Bishop Philip of Beauvais, Count Robert of Dreux and Count William of Ponthieu.  Although now of sufficient strength to prevent the defenders from going about their business outside the castle, this large army still accomplished little.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay, in VII, § 174, p. 93, is at pains to explain this apparent obstacle to God's plan:

"They were accompanied by a substantial force of crusaders whose arrival greatly cheered the Count of Montfort and the whole army.  It was hoped that strong action would result from the arrival of these powerful men, and that they would grind down the enemies of the Christian faith with a strong hand and a stretched out arm.  But He who puts down the mighty and gives grace to the humble, through some secret design known only to Himself, wished nothing great or glorious to be achieved by their hand.  As far as human reasoning can determine, the Just Judge so acted either because they were not worthy to be the instrument for the great and worshipful God to do great and wonderful things; or because if great men were to perform any great deed it would be ascribed entirely to human power, and not Divine.  So, the Heavenly Disposer thought it better to keep that victory for the humble, so that by winning through them a glorious triumph He might give glory to His own great name."

Not since the bickering of the Duke of Burgundy and Count of Nevers at Carcassonne had Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay doubted his ability to interpret the divine plan, but here again the phrase "as far as human reasoning can determine" occurs where Peter defends the coherence of a narrative of divine favour which was clearly challenged by events.  It is interesting that Peter notes the possibility that a "great deed" could be ascribed either to human power or to God.  God, in his view, is anxious to make himself known to those who might misinterpret the course of the crusade as due, in some way, to human decisions and actions.  Through the story, as told by His monastic follower, God reserves all glory for Himself, even if that means preventing the success of His holy army.

The crusade was assisted also, in this siege, by the unparalleled siege engineer William, the Archdeacon of Paris.  "Suffice it to say," Peter wrote, "that to him more than anyone, save God alone, must be ascribed the unceasing and dedicated enthusiasm brought to the siege and the victorious outcome."  It is surprising that such enthusiasm is a trait Peter saw as prominent in God's character during this siege, in light of the events to follow.  In the meantime, "whilst the siege was in progress God granted him [William] such grace that he was found to be expert in all things needed for its success; he taught the smiths, he instructed the carpenters, he excelled every craftsman in showing what had to be done to further the siege."  Despite God's enthusiasm (and William's) the siege dragged on for months.  Small advances were made, but the defenders "who were admittedly courageous and astute" wrote Peter, in a rare concession, checked and countered every advance.

In VII, § 179, p. 95, up to 80 defenders sortied to destroy a mangonel (a siege engine), causing the besiegers by it to flee.  What follows is most notable for not being cited as miraculous by Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay:
"When the enemy drew near all the knights fled save one, William of Ecureuil.  This knight, seeing the enemy approaching, began with great difficulty to climb over the crag to meet them; they made a concerted rush against him, and he defended himself vigorously.  They saw that they could not capture him, and instead thrust him with their spears onto the mangonel, and threw dry wood and fire after him.  This courageous man at once rose up and dispersed the fire, so that the mangonel was unharmed.  Once again he started to climb up to face the enemy; once again they thrust him back and threw fire on him.  Again he rose up and went for the enemy; four times in all they hurled him onto the mangonel.  Finally our men realised that since no one from our side could reach our knight to help him, he would be unable to escape; they therefore went to another part of the wall and made as if to mount an attack, whereupon the enemy soldiers harassing William retired into the castrum.  William, albeit exhausted, escaped alive.  His incomparable courage had ensured the the mangonel was unharmed."
Considering God's intervention in a crusader's bowel movements at Minerve to save a siege engine, it is striking that credit for this truly heroic one-man stand is given only to William of Ecureuil.  Even in the siege of Termes, our author will go on to attribute far less impressive events to miraculous intervention.  He does so, however, only in retrospect at the end of his account of the siege.

The defenders eventually ran out of water, which prompted Raymond of Termes to parley with Simon de Montfort.  The conditions they arranged were such as to demonstrate that the crusaders had all but failed: Raymond would keep all his possessions and hand over Termes to Simon, but only temporarily.  Simon would be obliged to give the castle back after a few months, at Easter.  During these negotiations, the bulk of the much-needed reinforcements left the crusader camp, despite the pleas of Simon and his wife.

Now "left virtually alone", Simon de Montfort was in a hurry "to consent to the terms for an agreement offered by our adversaries".  Seeing the weakening of de Montfort's position, however, Raymond refused to abandon the castle that day and put matters off till the next day.  Peter writes that he "gave a firm undertaking" to hand the castle over anyway.  In VII, § 182, p. 96, he continues:
"That Divine justice willed and foresaw this delay is most clearly demonstrated by subsequent events; for God, the most just Judge, did not wish that the man who had so grossly wronged His Holy Church (and was ready to do still worse, if he could) should escape immune and unpunished after a life so dedicated to cruelty, since -- to say nothing of his other crimes -- thirty years and more had now passed (as I have heard from trustworthy witnesses) during which the Holy sacraments were never celebrated in the church at Termes.
The following night, there was a sudden intense rainstorm, as if the sky had broken apart and the floodgates of heaven had opened.  So great was the downpour that our enemies, who had long suffered from an extreme shortage of water, and had for this reason proposed to surrender to us, now found themselves with an abundant supply.  Our harp is turned to mourning, the grief of our enemies is changed to joy! They at once became arrogant and recovered their courage and the will to resist.  Their cruelty, their eagerness to oppose us, increased, the more so because they dared to think the storm was a sign that some Divine aid had come to them in their hour of need.  What a vain and unjust presumption, to boast of help from Him whose worship they despised, whose faith they had rejected!  They said indeed that God did not wish them to surrender; all this, they asserted, had been done for their benefit -- but in truth Divine justice had arranged it for their downfall."
Here, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay reveals the difficulty of maintaining control over a narrative of divine intervention.  When his side finds advantage, it is God's direct action.  When his side faces a setback, it is God's more complicated indirect action, which he must labour to explain.  Yet, for all that Peter protests, his opponents were also Christians who could interpret the hand of God as guiding events just as well as he.  Despite his overworked rhetoric, Peter must have recognized that those who gained a sudden advantage could claim that God favoured their side more easily and more accessibly than those who claimed that God favoured them but aided their enemies for abstruse reasons.

When negotiations continued the following day, Raymond of Termes "wormed his way out of his undertaking", suggesting perhaps that the previous day's agreement was not quite as firm as Peter had reported.  The Bishop of Chartres, the only one of the lords who had brought reinforcements who still remained, was intending to depart the next day and prevailed upon Simon de Montfort to offer a truce on any terms which included the handing over of the castrum, even temporarily.  Raymond of Termes, "who also saw that almost the whole strength of the army was leaving", was now completely unwilling to hand over his fortress to the small force remaining.  VII, § 185, pp. 97-98 describes the failed attempts, by the Bishops of Chartres and Carcassonne, at working out a truce in any way favourable to the crusaders:
"With nothing achieved, the two returned to the Count.  And yet, our people did not clearly see (as I have already said) Divine goodness had ordained matters in this way, the better to forward the interests of His Church."
It is hardly surprising that both the crusaders and the defenders failed to see Divine goodness on the side of the crusade at this point.  Indeed, Peter was able to organize his rhetorical approach in hindsight, after Simon de Montfort took Termes.  From that comfortable vantage point, it was all too easy to claim to share divine knowledge of what was to come. 

The Bishop of Chartres took his troops and left at dawn the following day, prompting an immediate sortie by the defenders, who attempted again to destroy the mangonel.  Simon de Montfort, who had accompanied the Bishop a little way down the road, raced back to the camp and throwing himself into combat, drove the enemy soldiers back into their castle.  It was an act of bravery and prowess which was typical of de Montfort, but was sufficient only to restore a hopeless status quo.

William, the Archdeacon of Paris, remained with de Montfort however, and soon they were joined by an unexpected group of crusaders from Lorraine.  Although Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay does not estimate their number, it was sufficient for de Montfort to "strengthen the siege" and to lift the spirits of the Count and his men, who began to work more energetically on reducing the defenses of Termes with their siege engines.  Peter describes the final appearance of the long-needed miracle which changed the course of the siege in VII, § 188, p. 99:
"At once the siege-engines, which had previously had little success, were brought nearer the walls.  In some strange way, by the incomprehensible dispensation of God, a marvellous thing happened; the engines, which had achieved little or nothing whilst the nobles and bishops were with the army, began -- now that they had gone -- to fire with an accuracy that suggested the Lord himself was aiming each stone.  In truth, this was the Lord's doing and was marvellous in our eyes."
In this very passage, Peter gives alternate explanations for the success -- the number of fresh reinforcements allowed the siege to be strengthened and the accuracy of the siege engines was increased as they were able to move them nearer to the walls.  However, the possible confusion as to God's intentions which had arisen over the preceding months made it necessary for the final victory to be attributed only to God.  Otherwise, as Peter had noted, there was some risk of the course of the campaign being attributed "entirely to human power".  With the siege engines now wreaking considerable damage on the fortifications and de Montfort's sappers undermining the walls, the defenders fled the castle.  Raymond de Termes was captured and died in the dungeons of Carcassonne three years later. 

THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH MIRACLES


Now wrapping up his lengthy discussion of the action at Termes, Peter includes the account of two similar events, both attributed to miracles in VII, §§ 190-191, pp. 99-100:

"There was one event at the siege of Termes which I must not pass over.  One day the Count arranged for a small siege-engine, commonly known as a 'cat', to be brought up to help in undermining the wall.  The Count was standing near the engine and speaking with a knight.  As a gesture of familiarity he placed his arm on the knight's shoulder, when a huge stone, thrown down from the enemy's mangonel and falling form a height with great force, struck the knight on the head.  Through God's wonderful power the Count, though he had been embracing the knight, escaped unharmed.  The knight received a mortal blow and died.

Another time, on a Sunday, the Count was in his tent celebrating Mass.  An incident occurred which demonstrated God's provident mercy.  The Count was standing to hear the Mass, and by Divine intervention a sergeant was standing right behind him.  Suddenly a bolt from the enemy ballista struck the sergeant and killed him.  No one should doubt that this was the result of Divine goodness; clearly in arranging that the sergeant should stand behind the Count and take the force of the missile, God's intention was to preserve the vigorous athlete of His Holy Church."
With the many difficulties of the siege of Termes now in the past, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay is again free to show God's hand in affairs without need for complicated sophistry and "the incomprehensible dispensation of God".  It is perhaps interesting to note that in each of these two miracles, God arranged the death of one of His sworn followers, but the fact that Simon de Montfort was in close proximity to them and that they died instead of him was more than sufficient for Peter, who could once more see the divine intention behind these deaths "clearly".

THE NINETEENTH MIRACLE


The Historia now moves on to discuss negotiations held at Narbonne between Count Simon de Montfort, Count Raymond of Toulouse and the King of Aragon.  The churchmen (the legates Arnau Amalric and Master Thedisius, and Raymond Bishop of Uzes), who had treated Raymond so badly in Toulouse previously, were also present and instrumental in the course of negotiations.  The terms which Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay claims were offered to Count Raymond appeared generous, but many historians doubt that Peter's account of them is accurate.  In further negotiations a few weeks later, the Siblys point out, Raymond was offered terms far worse.  It has further been suggested that Arnau Amalric did not offer Raymond any acceptable terms, seeking only to show that no agreement was possible.  Similar negotiations at the same conference failed to achieve peace with Count Raymond's ally, the Count of Foix.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay, of course, refuses to acknowledge any human decision-making on the parts of the Counts of Foix and Toulouse.  Their decisions were made for them by God's intervention, for reasons Peter is once again, in VIII, §§ 195-196, pp. 102-103, at some pains to explain easily.  He recounts that the supposedly generous terms were presented to Raymond:

"But God was concerned for the future of His Church; the Count rejected this most generous offer and so made himself unworthy of any favour or kindness.
The conference also discussed the restoration of peace between the Church and its most monstrous persecutor, the Count of Foix.  ... But the eternal God, from whom nothing is hidden and who knows all that the future holds, did not wish the many exceedingly barbarous actions of this, His most monstrous enemy, to go unavenged; knowing what future ills would come from the proposed agreement, in His great and unsearchable judgement, He hardened the heart of the Count of Foix so that he rejected the proposals for peace.  Assuredly God was exercising His deep concern for His Church, for in rejecting the treaty Her enemy was, by his own actions, providing justification in advance for the punishment he was to suffer for the mischief he later caused."
The last sentence is one worth rereading to explicate Peter's meaning.  Although it was God directly who "hardened the hart of the Count of Foix so that he rejected the proposals", it was "by his own actions" that he rejected them.  As there was no peace treaty reached, this was meant to allow the Count of Foix to cause further mischief so that he could later be punished for it.

THE TWENTIETH MIRACLE


After many sections devoted to the blasphemous atrocities of the Count of Foix and a few relating the further failed peace negotiations at Montpellier, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay recounts the siege of Lavaur.  Bishop Fulk of Toulouse joined Simon de Montfort's army there, having been exiled from Toulouse, probably due to his raising of turbulent vigilante forces or according to Peter "for his Catholic faith".  In VII, § 223, p. 115, Peter introduces the miracle to come:
 "One day our men had built a wooden fortification near the walls of the castrum, and on top of it Christ's knights had placed the sign of the Cross.  Our opponents concentrated fire from their engines on the Cross and broke one of the arms, whereupon the shameless dogs started howling and cheering as if breaking the cross was a famous victory.  But He who sanctified the cross avenged this wrong miraculously and for all to see: soon afterwards (most marvellous to relate) it came about that the enemies of the cross, who had rejoiced in destroying the Cross, were captured on the day of the feast of the Cross.  So the Cross avenged the injuries it had suffered -- as will be shown later in my narrative."
True to his word, in VII, § 226, p. 116, Peter delivers the promised miracle:
"Whilst our men were thus devoting their every effort to the siege, the bishops present and the venerable Abbot of the Cistercian monastery of La Cour-Dieu, who were with the army and had been instructed by the papal legates to act in their stead, gathered together with all the other clergy and with the utmost fervour began to sing the Veni Creator Spiritus.  When they saw and heard this, our enemies -- so God disposed -- became stupefied and almost lost their powers of resistance; to the extent that -- as they later admitted -- they feared those who sang more than those who fought, those who recited the psalms more than those who attacked them, those who prayed more than those who sought to wound.  So the wall was penetrated, our men entered Lavaur and our adversaries, no longer able to resist, gave themselves up.  Through the will of God, who came in His mercy to our aid, Lavaur was taken on the feast of the Invention of the Holy Cross."
In § 223, Peter introduces that the miracle will occur and in § 226 he describes it, attributing the victory to God's vengeance with the clergy acting as His instruments.  The two sections in between, §§ 224-225 recount the actual way in which Lavaur was taken -- the initial undermining of the walls by sappers, the action of two German counts who repelled a sortie, the blocking of a sortie tunnel with smoke and fire, the filling of the ditch, and the final completion of the work of the sappers.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay is anxious, however, not to allow these human actions to gain credit for the taking of Lavaur.  That is why he couched them in between the introduction of God's motive for vengeance and the explanation of the timing by which God's plan reached fruition.

What followed at Lavaur was another of the famous acts of cruelty of the crusaders, which must have garnered criticism at the time.  As in his previous descriptions of Beziers, of Bram, and of Minerve, the sites of previous crusader atrocities, Peter describes the massacre and then immediately after supplied a miracle to show that God was, indeed, looking down approvingly ...

(to be continued in my next post)

Sunday, 11 August 2013

The divine plan in Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay, Part I

Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay is one of our main sources for the events of the Albigensian Crusade and is often relied on by historians without caveat.  I have previously explored what various historians have said about his reliability.  Here, I will put forward some of my own ideas on the subject.


Peter's text is often called the Historia Albigensis in Latin, or in English "The History of the Albigensian Crusade", as it is by the Siblys whose translation I am using here throughout.  (All references to Peter's text will be from their edition.)  Both titles suggest that Peter's interest in writing was "historical" in nature.  Peter, however, was solely interested in presenting the events of the Albigensian crusade as the coherent action of divine providence.  He was not merely recording the events of the crusade, and the difference goes further than mere bias or point of view.  The Historia Albigensis is not the story of heretics and crusaders engaged in a holy war.  It is the story of God and the Devil and their effects upon those heretics and crusaders.  Where actual events were inconvenient to the portrayal of God's plan, Peter would omit or change them and where fictitious events might support that portrayal, he would certainly include them.

AUTHORIAL INTENT


Only a few lines into the text, Peter makes his intentions quite clear when he writes: "My intention in this history, my sole purpose in writing it, is to ensure that the nations will be aware of God's marvellous works.  The approach I have taken in writing my history will make this clear ...."  A few lines later, though, Peter also makes a claim to accuracy: "... all I have written is true, and I have set nothing down that I did not either witness personally or learn from entirely authoritative and reliable persons."  This post will examine what occurred when these two intentions came into conflict.

The story Peter tells is one in which God figures as the primary character.  It is God himself whose agency is portrayed as foremost in the events retold.  This is the first challenge to establishing the actual historicity of what Peter relates.  Scholars of history no longer write in the same mode as Peter, but one cannot safely ignore Peter's pervasive theme without misinterpreting his writing.  Peter's story of God's (and Satan's) actions in the Languedoc cannot be translated into a secular history simply by the removal of these characters.

Peter was writing in Latin at a time when it was no longer a living language.  Latin was the language of the bible and those who were skilled in Latin, as Peter was, would recognize biblical Latin phrases with some facility.  The bible was, in fact, the main text from which they derived their Latinity. The inclusion of biblical Latin phrases in many (perhaps most) of Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay's sentences therefore provides a subtext which is difficult but important for us to read.  For example, when Peter writes, above, about making the nations aware of God's marvellous works, he is taking his phrasing directly from Psalm 145 (or 144 in the Vulgate): "They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power; to make known to the sons of men his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom."  The English translations shown here (the Siblys for Peter and the KJV for the psalm) differ but Peter's Latin and the Latin of the Vulgate do not.  When Peter expressed his intention to portray God's works with this phrase, he consciously invoked for his audience the psalm's theme of extolling the righteousness of God's acts, specifically by preserving the faithful and destroying the wicked.  The Siblys have provided frequent notes indicating biblical references, although I imagine that digital comparisons of Peter's text with the Vulgate might turn up still more.  As much as the explicit references to God and to Satan, Peter's biblical references constantly relate back to his purpose.

Satan appears in the first sentence of the text after the introduction: "In the province of Narbonne, where once the true faith had flourished, the enemy of the faith began to sow tares.  The people lost their senses and profaned the sacraments of Christ -- the very essence and wisdom of God; they deserted true religion and in their folly wandered at random in the pathless wastes of error, in the wilderness where there is no way."  (II, §5, p. 7) The sowing of tares in the first sentence is a reference to the parable of the weeds (Matthew 13:25) and the wandering in the pathless wastes of error in the second sentence belongs to Psalm 107 (108 in Peter's Vulgate): "He poureth contempt upon princes, and causeth them to wander in the wilderness, where there is no way".  Thus Satan, "the enemy of the faith", appears by allusion acting in the first sentence and God appears by subtext acting in the second.  An exegesis of the text in this kind of detail would be exhausting -- I use the above examples from the very beginning of Peter's story only to illustrate the effort he went to in the framing of his narrative as the action of divine providence.

This reframing of history into a story of God's judgement was not uncommon for clerical authors in this period, but in some cases the necessity to tell the tale in this way could override an author's faculties for critically evaluating matters of dubious credibility.  In the case of Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay, the disposition of his main character, God, is often illustrated by the numerous miracles which appear throughout his narrative.  This post will examine each of the miraculous events recounted by Peter and will speculate on the narrative uses for which these events were created or to which these events were put.

THE FIRST MIRACLE

The first appears in III, § 25, pp. 19-20 of the Historia, (that is, Part III, Section 25, found on pages 19 and 20 of the Siblys' edition) while our author is still recounting events before the crusade began:

"At this time a miracle occurred near Carcassonne, which I must not pass over.  Some heretics were harvesting their crops on the day of the nativity of St John the Baptist [24 June 1207] -- whom they said was not a prophet but a most evil man.  One of them looked at his hand and saw that the bundle of corn [i.e. "wheat"] he was holding was all bloody.  He thought he must have cut his hand, but then saw that his hand was in fact unhurt and called out to his companions, each of whom then examined the bundles they were holding and found that they were covered with blood -- but that their hands were unharmed.  Guy the venerable Abbot of les Vaux-de-Cernay, who was in the area at this time, himself saw the bloodied bundle of corn and told me the story."

The apparent quality of the source of this information is very good.  Our author has it from his uncle who was an eyewitness.  But what did our eyewitness actually see?  One bloodied bundle of corn is not itself unusual or worthy of observation.  Several bundles of corn are, especially if the blood did not come from any human or animal source, but it is interesting that Guy is only described as seeing one of them.  No source is given for the interesting points of the story -- that no one who was holding the bundles of corn were cut, and that they had been criticizing the saint on whose day they were harvesting.  The means by which these all-important details came to Peter must be left to speculation.

In his book "The War on Heresy", R. I. Moore discusses the appearance of medieval miracles and the reporting of them by monastic sources.  Memorably, he notes that "these things did not just happen.  People decided that they had happened.  This is the magic of small communities, later dismissed by the literate as superstition.  Through it distress is alleviated, quarrels resolved, norms of behaviour established and enforced."  The miracles described by Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay did not just happen.  In fact, many of them could certainly not have happened in the way described.   While blood appearing on bundles of corn seemed to Peter like a natural enough result of blasphemy, it is cannot be considered to be an historical event.  Either it was not miraculous and merely misinterpreted, or it was falsified.  As historians, we must understand events within the confines of secular reality and people's understanding of it.  We can posit that Peter believed a miracle to have occurred, but we cannot agree with him.  What we can see is that the belief that the miracle had occurred served Peter's narrative purpose.  In this case, we cannot know if heretics uttered blasphemy against St John the Baptist, and we have every reason to disbelieve that God showed a sign of his judgement upon them through the miraculous creation of blood upon the corn.  However, Peter's Historia here records that blasphemous heretics existed before the crusade and that God's judgement upon them had been clearly manifested.

THE SECOND MIRACLE


The next miracle which Peter reports occurs in III, § 54, pp. 29-30 and is perhaps one of the most famous miracles of the time, as it is alleged to have been worked by St Dominic, later founder of the Dominican order:



"At this time a miracle occurred which I think is worth recording at this point.  One day certain of our preachers, men of deep religious faith, were engaged in debate against the heretics.  One of our men, Dominic by name, a man of consummate piety, and a companion of the Bishop of Osma, put down in writing the authorities he had produced and handed the paper to a certain heretic so that they could discuss its contents.  That night when the heretics were gathered in a private house, sitting by the fire, the heretic to whom the man of God had given the paper produced it.  His companions suggested that he should throw it into the fire saying that if it burned it would prove that the faith of the heretics (he should have said 'faithlessness!') was true; if it remained untouched by the fire, they would admit that the faith preached by our men was true.  What more?  All agreed and the paper was thrown into the fire.  After staying in the middle of the fire for a little time it jumped out, totally untouched by the flames.  The watchers were astounded but one of them -- made of harder stuff than the rest -- said: 'Throw it in again so that we may make a more thorough test of the truth.'  It was thrown in again -- but again it jumped out, untouched by the fire.  Seeing this the hardened heretic, slow of heart to believe, said: 'Throw it in a third time, then we shall know the end of the matter beyond doubt.'  It was thrown in for the third time, but even then refused to burn, but jumped from the fire entire and unharmed.  Despite having witnessed these signs the heretics were still unwilling to be converted to the true faith but persisted in their obstinate belief and very strictly enjoined each other to make sure that the miracle should never come to the knowledge of our side through anyone reporting it.  However, a knight who was present and had some sympathy with our faith did not wish to hide what he had seen and told a great many people about it.  This happened at Montreal; I heard of it from that most pious man who passed the paper to the heretics."

Leaving aside for a moment the unusual incombustibility and agility of Dominic's paper, the aspect of this story which greatly strains the credulity of the reader is that a group of determined heretics would anticipate the possibility that the fire might miraculously leave the paper unburnt and say that if they indeed saw such a miracle it would convert them.  More than that, they seem to have been unimpressed by the paper jumping out of the flames by itself, singling out only its capacity for burning as a new test despite it jumping out twice more.

When it comes to the transmission of this event, if it occurred, to the author, Peter again gives his sources.  As the other witnesses had unfortunately sworn themselves to secrecy, the story went from an anonymous knight witness to an unnamed "great many people" to Dominic himself and then to our author.  Somewhere along that tortuous path, natural events somehow gained a supernatural aspect and the actions and words of the "heretics" arranged themselves to perfectly demonstrate both the miracle and their own obstinacy in the face of proof.

The transmission of the story, and the changes to it, did not end with Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay in this case.  The story was repeated again a decade later by Dominic's biographer Jordan of Saxony  (also now a saint) in his Libellus.  Perhaps uncomfortable with the many steps the story took between its one unnamed eyewitness and the chronicler, Jordan made it a public spectacle where Dominic's writings jumped three times out of the fire but heretical documents were consumed.  It is this later version, relocated to nearby Fanjeaux, which is now entrenched in Catholic dogma.  The Catholic encyclopedia, for instance, confirms this as one of the official miracles of the saint:

"It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if this athlete of Christ, who had conquered himself before attempting the reformation of others, was more than once chosen to show forth the power of God. The failure of the fire at Fanjeaux to consume the dissertation he had employed against the heretics, and which was thrice thrown into the flames; the raising to life of Napoleone Orsini; the appearance of the annals in the refectory of Saint Sixtus in response to his prayers, are but a few of the supernatural happenings by which God was pleased to attest the eminent holiness of His servant. We are not surprised, therefore, that, after signing the Bull of canonization on 13 July, 1234, Gregory IX declared that he no more doubted the saintliness of Saint Dominic than he did that of Saint Peter and Saint Paul."

Although some Catholic sources (http://www.op-stjoseph.org/hist-dom1.html) now attempt to rectify the two different stories by suggesting that two very similar miracles occurred, at both Montreal and Fanjeaux, this is patently unconvincing.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay wrote several years after the time period of the debates when either of these events would have occurred.  He says that he was told his version of the story by Dominic himself and, from what we know of Peter's and Dominic's activities, this is entirely plausible.  If Dominic had indeed worked the miracle twice, the miracle at Montreal, occurring in private and only revealed through word of mouth, would have been much less impressive than that at Fanjeaux, occurring in public in front of Dominic himself as well as three judges and a crowd of onlookers.  It would make little sense for Dominic to tell Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay of only the weaker and less attested incident, and surely Peter would not have recorded only the miracle at Montreal if he had heard of the miracle at Fanjeaux.  We are left with the conclusion that either Peter was lying when he said he heard this from Dominic and uninformed as to the famous incident at Fanjeaux, or that Jordan of Saxony embellished the relatively unconvincing miracle at Montreal, turning it into the now better-known miracle at Fanjeaux.

THE THIRD MIRACLE

In IV, § 79, p. 45, after discussing Raymond of Toulouse's penance by the tomb of the martyred legate, Peter of Castelnau, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay introduces another miracle.  From the Church's perspective it was to be expected that the martyrdom of such a holy man as the legate would be attended by miracles.  Indeed, Pope Innocent III seems to have been at some pains to explain why none were reported immediately around the time of his murder, as I noted in the post discussing Innocent's letter calling for the crusade.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay here begins to fill this vacuum:

"I must also note that when the martyr's body, which was at first entombed in the monks' cloister at Saint-Gilles, was after a long period transferred to the church proper, it was found to be as whole and unimpaired as if it had been buried that very day.  A marvellous perfume arose from his body and clothing."
Peter of Castelnau had been killed on January 14, 1208 and, while we do not know how much time passed during the "long period" before the transfer of his corpse, it was in its new resting place by the time of the Count of Toulouse's penance on June 18, 1209.  Forensic science puts the "whole and unimpaired" and marvellously scented condition of his body in the realm of the miraculous.

This time, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay does not give any sources for confirmation of the miracle and indeed he only does so rarely for miraculous events from this point on.  The clergy at Saint-Gilles would have been involved in the transfer and it would doubtless have been in their best interests to promote any miracles of the martyr entombed in their church, where he remains to this day.  Peter of Castelnau was never canonized, but he is an official martyr of the church, who has an observed feast day within the Cistercian order on the anniversary of his death.  The purpose of the inclusion of this miracle story in the Historia Albigensis is likely to show God's confirmation of Peter of Castelnau's holiness, since he was a controversial figure in the Languedoc,  disliked for his high-handed excommunications of town consuls and suspensions and depositions of local bishops, run out of towns by their citizens, and well-known for fomenting open rebellion against Count Raymond of Toulouse. 

THE FOURTH MIRACLE

The event described in V, § 87, p. 49, more so than the previous three, could be explained by rational means without the need for a miracle.  The Siblys have labelled it as one of the described miracles and that is certainly a fair reading of the text.  Peter writes:

"One day a certain canon was leaving the great church of Beziers, after the celebration of Mass.  Hearing the noise of men working on the city's defenses he asked what it was.  Bystanders replied: 'The noise comes from men working on the ditches -- we are fortifying the city against the French who are coming here'; (this happened just when the arrival of the crusaders was imminent).  While this exchange was taking place, there appeared an old man of venerable years who said to them: 'You are defending the city against the crusaders, but who will be able to defend you from above?'  By this he meant that the Lord would be attacking them from Heaven.  Hearing this, they were extremely disturbed, but when they tried to attack the old man, he disappeared and was nowhere to be found."

Again, no source is attributed, although it could have been the canon, if indeed something like the event occurred.  Understood as a rhetorical question from an old man who then disappeared (perhaps around a corner) there is nothing miraculous about the story.  If the old man is understood, however, as a warning messenger from Heaven who vanished into thin air, then it is indeed a miracle.  Although it is always impossible to tell exactly which elements of a story are factual, which are embellished by witnesses or intermediate tale-tellers, and which invented by our author, it can be supposed that Peter did not invent this story completely and did, in fact, record it as it was told to him by someone else.  Otherwise he could have had the old man make the point of his remark more clearly, without Peter needing to explicate it for his audience.

This story appears in the Historia just after some examples of the sin and wickedness of the people of Beziers and just before the account of their slaughter.  Like Arnau Amalric and Caesarius of Heisterbach, when they told this story, Peter found it necessary to stress that the inhabitants of Beziers had been warned that they would be killed if they opposed the crusade, but that they ignored warnings and so earned their fate.

THE FIFTH MIRACLE


In V, § 97, pp. 53-54 another event with a plausible mundane explanation is presented, although in this case Peter is quite clear as to how it should be understood.  He is here describing the siege of Carcassonne:

"There was a particular feature of this siege which should not be passed over, and which must indeed be regarded as a great miracle.  It was said that the number of men in the army was as great as five hundred thousand.  However, our enemies had destroyed all the mills around the city, so that our men were unable to obtain bread except from a few of the neighbouring castra; and yet there was such an abundance of bread that it was still being sold for a very modest price.  For this reason the heretics said that the Abbot of Citeaux was a wizard and had brought in demons in the shape of men, because it seemed to them that our men were not eating."

William of Tudela also describes the plentiful provisioning of the crusading army at this stage and mentions that the supply of bread was so abundant that he notes the exceptional price to which Peter alludes -- thirty loaves for a penny.  William continues that the locals who were selling this bread to the crusaders recouped some of their losses by selling them salt as well.  William reports nothing miraculous in this.



Indeed, it is perhaps the strangest feature of this "great miracle" in the Historia that the only persons attributing anything supernatural to the bread surplus in the story itself are "the heretics".  Since Peter is obviously not indicating that Arnau Amalric was a wizard or that the crusaders were fasting demons, it is the disparity between the size of the army (a half-million men) and the sources of provisioning (a few local estates) to which he attributes the miracle.  It shows the contrast between Peter's story and William's that one sees divine intervention where the other sees prudent logistics.

THE SIXTH MIRACLE


The Siblys do not mark the divine intervention recorded in V, § 103, p. 56 as a miracle, but it does not appear that Peter wished it to be interpreted as a wild coincidence, but rather as a relevant instance of God revealing his intentions.  This concerns a drawing of the Sortes Sanctorum, a form of divination in which the diviner seeks answers in a randomly-selected passage of scripture.  The tradition of bibliomancy in Catholic mysticism dates back at least as far as Augustine of Hippo, whose divination effected his conversion to Christianity and was still in practice during the time period of the Albigensian crusade, since Francis of Assisi used it in 1208 and was convinced to give away all his possessions to take up a life of preaching.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay includes a use of the Sortes Sanctorum which confirmed the role of Simon de Montfort in the crusade:

"Here I must turn to an event, well worth recording, which occurred a little earlier in France in relation to the Count of Montfort.  One day the venerable abbot of les Vaux-de-Cernay, Guy (whom I have referred to earlier and who was doing everything in his power to advance the business of the faith in the struggle against heresy) came to the Count from the Duke of Burgundy with a letter from the Duke in which he begged Simon to take up arms with him in the army of Jesus Christ against the heretics and to become his ally.  His request was accompanied by substantial gifts and more were promised if Simon would agree.  It happened that when the Abbot came from the Duke he found the Count in the church of Rochefort, a castrum in his domains, engaged on certain business.  The Abbot called him aside to show him the Duke's letter; and as the Count was crossing the chancel, by some divine inspiration he picked up a psaltery which he found on a desk and opened it.  Placing his finger on the first line he said to the Abbot: 'Explain this text to me.'  The passage was: 'For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.  They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.'  Subsequent events demonstrated most clearly that this occurrence resulted from the intervention of Divine Providence."

The psalm which de Montfort supposedly found in the psaltery is Psalm 91, well known for the memorable phrase "Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day" and indeed Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay will go on to recount many later situations in which de Montfort was nearly killed but remained, through divine providence, the "most invincible of men".  De Montfort's invincibility, in Peter's Historia, is a divine gift bestowed so that he can expedite "the business of the faith" in the Languedoc.  Simon de Montfort proved quite resistant to sword, spear, lance, bolt and arrow and, in fact, was only finally killed in battle by the rather overwhelming force of a large stone from a siege engine striking him in the head.  The Anonymous will record the trauma of such an injury in realistic terms as "shattering his eyes, brains, back teeth, forehead and jaw."  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay will record that after being struck, "twice beating his breast he commended his soul to God and the Blessed Virgin."  After confirming that Simon died as God's "most glorious martyr", Peter will draw his tale to a close only a few short laisses after his death.

THE SEVENTH MIRACLE


After singing the praises of Simon de Montfort and recounting his election at Carcassonne as leader of the crusade, Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay now has his hero for the rest of his story.  What happened immediately after the election, however, appears rather as the bickering of warlords with bruised egos than the furtherance of a divine plan of action.  The Duke of Burgundy, de Montfort's erstwhile patron, had a falling out with the Count of Nevers.  As they were the two most important lords in the crusade at the time, and had each brought many men with him, this proved most unfortunate for the army.  Once the Duke of Burgundy's man was made leader of the whole force, the Count of Nevers had had enough and left the crusade, returning to France with "most of the crusaders".  Such a blow to the holy war, immediately after the "athlete of Christ" had assumed command by divine appointment endangers the coherence of Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay's narrative about God's plan.  He explains, in V, §§ 108 and 109, pp. 59-60:

"After the election of the Count of Montfort by the process described above, the Abbot of Citeaux and the Count approached the Duke of Burgundy and the Count of Nevers, begging them to prolong their stay with the crusaders in the service of Jesus Christ. ... However, the Count of Nevers would not listen to any pleas and returned home forthwith.  In fact he and the Duke did not get on well together, but also that enemy of peace, the Devil, aroused such mutual hostility between them that every day there was concern that they might kill each other; and it was believed by our people that there was a lack of good will on the part of the Count of Nevers towards the Count of Montfort because the latter was on good terms with the Duke of Burgundy and had come with him from France.
What inveterate hatred of the Inveterate Enemy, who saw with invidious eyes the success of the business of Jesus Christ and made it his purpose to impede what he grieved to see succeed!  The army of crusaders present at the siege of Carcassonne was so large and strong that had they wished to go further and work together to attack the enemies of the true faith, they would have met with no resistance and could quickly have taken possession of the whole territory; but (so far as human reasoning can understand matters) Heavenly Providence decreed otherwise, and, looking to the salvation of the human race, wished the conquest of the territory to be reserved for sinners.  The Lord in His compassion did not wish this most holy war to be ended quickly, but rather to afford the opportunity for sinners to win pardon and for the righteous to attain a higher state of grace; I affirm that He wished His enemies to be subdued gradually and progressively, so that as sinners gradually and progressively took up arms to avenge the wrong done to Jesus Christ, the prolongation of the war would prolong the opportunity for them to gain pardon."

Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay overcomes the challenge which actual events presented to his narrative only by the most overworked rhetoric, involving the Devil appearing to drive the action of major nobles, and modifying his view of God's plan for the crusade, so that it had always been intended to be a difficult affair.  Peter would only go on to record the first nine years out of twenty years of near-constant warfare over the Languedoc, but even the sections he did recall were full of reverses of fortune for his hero and, thus, the action of Providence needed to be described in complex terms.  This first major impediment to the crusading effort, which could in no way be attributed to the heretics, is therefore the first which causes Peter to doubt the theme of his narrative.  For the first time, he acknowledges that he can only describe Providence "so far as human reasoning can understand matters".

THE EIGHTH MIRACLE


The events of V, § 113, pp. 62-63 are a return from incidents of divine intervention in human decision-making to actual supernatural events, and Peter once again introduces them explicitly as a "miracle".  After the successful sieges of Beziers and Carcassonne, Count Simon has just accepted the submission of Castres and taken possession of it:

"A miracle occurred at this place in the Count's presence which I do not wish to pass over.  Two heretics were brought before the Count, one a 'perfected' heretic and the other a sort of 'novice' and a disciple of the first one.  After taking counsel the Count decided that they should be burnt.  The second heretic -- the disciple -- was seized with heartfelt grief; he began to show contrition and promised that he would freely forswear heresy and obey the Holy Roman Church in all things.  A heated discussion arose amongst our people when they heard this; some said that now that he was prepared to do what we had told him to do, he ought not to be condemned to die; others maintained that on the contrary he deserved death, arguing that it was plain that he had been a heretic and that the promises he was now making owed more to his fear of impending death than to his desire to follow the Christian religion.  What more?  The Count agreed that he should be burnt, taking the view that if his contrition was genuine, the fire would serve to expiate his sins; if he was lying, he would receive a just reward for his perfidy.  Both heretics were then tied with strong chains round their legs, middle and neck, and their hands were fastened behind them.  The man who appeared to be repenting was then asked in what faith he wished to meet his death.  He said: 'I forswear the evil of heresy.  I wish to die in the faith of the Holy Roman Church, and I pray that this fire will serve for me instead of purgatory.'  A fire was lit around the stake, and burned vigorously.  The 'perfected' heretic was consumed by the flames instantly; but the other quickly broke the strong chains that bound him and escaped from the fire so unharmed that he showed no sign of injury from the flames except that the tips of his fingers were slightly scorched."

This is the first burning which is recounted by Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay and the miracle described is perhaps the least telling part of the narrative.  The debate "amongst our people" is interesting as it shows that there was still no means available to determine the guilt of an individual accused of heresy.  Mere promises of orthodoxy and obedience were not sufficient for many and, indeed, not for Simon de Montfort.  The idea which Peter attributes to the crusader that the burning alive of a genuinely contrite prisoner "would serve to expiate" his supposed former sins is a peculiarly brutal one, and when God intervenes in the story, it is to release the prisoner with only the most minor of injuries.  He was, after all, not innocent but only repentant.  It is difficult to determine whether Peter meant for his audience to form an opinion on Simon de Montfort's form of justice based on this story.  Certainly, Count Simon's decision to execute the prisoner seems to have been overturned by God's miracle which allowed him to escape the flames.  Peter does not recount anyone's reaction to the miracle, nor the fate of the prisoner after his reprieve from his ordeal.

R. I. Moore, in the "The War on Heresy" notes examples from the 12th century in which ordeal by water was used to judge heresy.  The accused would be bound in chains and submerged in a body of water.  In the cases Moore cites, ones who floated were "rejected by the water" and thus convicted of heresy.  Moore points out that whether the accused floated or sank could be more subjective than sources were prone to describe and that the ordeal may thus have been a format in which a community could determine guilt or innocence based on how they chose to interpret the outcome. 

Several years after the burnings at Castres, Pope Innocent III would move away from ordeals by fire and water at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215.  Although he did not forbid the ordeals, he forbade priests to be involved in them, as the Church moved towards better controlled means of determining guilt and innocence.  At the time of this miracle, however, such ordeals had not been legislated against and there was no obstacle to Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay seeing God's judgement rendered in whether an accused person was injured or not by fire.  Perhaps this is an explanation of his inclusion of this miracle.  Although he does not explicitly frame the incident as an ordeal by fire, perhaps Peter wished to tell it in such a way that Simon's decision to burn the prisoner appeared only as condemning him to an ordeal and that the fire did indeed "expiate his sins" with God determining that the extent of injury needed was only minor.

THE NINTH MIRACLE


The southern knight, Giraud de Pepieux, who had initially gone over to the crusaders' side and had developed good relations with Simon de Montfort broke with him, sometime around the end of 1209.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay states that Giraud "became a despicable traitor and a cruel enemy of the faith.  Denying God, forswearing his given word and unmindful of the favours he had received and the affection shown to him, he rejected the Count's friendship and the promises of fealty he had given.  Even if he no longer had God and His faith in mind, he should surely have been turned from such cruelty by the kindness the Count had shown him."

As is often the case, Peter attributes human action to divine principles here, where other sources include better explanations.   Where Peter has Giraud turning against Simon for no other reason than his decision to deny God, William of Tudela recounts a different reason for Giraud's decision.  A crusading Frenchman had killed Giraud's uncle -- a rash act which must have made Giraud's fury predictable, since Simon de Montfort had the offender buried alive in an unsuccessful attempt to appease him. 

Giraud captured the castle of Puisserguier which Simon's forces had held.  Peter des Vaux-de-Cernay claims that Giraud promised the captured knights and sergeants of Puisserguier that he would not harm them and would take them to Narbonne.  Count Simon, hearing of the defection of Giraud and the loss of the castle, mustered troops from Narbonne, who marched with him but then refused to besiege Puisserguier and went home again, leaving Simon to deal with Giraud "almost alone" according to Peter.  Count Simon then retreated for the day to a nearby fortification with the intention of returning at dawn.  VI, § 126, p. 70 continues:
"There occurred, however, a miracle at Puisserguier which I must not omit from my narrative.  After Giraud had come to the place and captured it, he made little of his promise to conduct his prisoners unharmed to Narbonne but imprisoned the Count's sergeants he had captured -- up to fifty in number -- in the keep.  However, on the night the Count left the castrum Giraud became afraid that the Count would return next morning to besiege it and fled in the middle of the night.  Since he was in too great a hurry to take with him the men he had imprisoned, he put them into the ditch surrounding the keep and had straw, fire, stones and anything else that came to hand thrown on top of them, until he believed they must be dead.  Then he left taking with him the Count's two knights whom he had captured, and went to Minerve.  What appalling treason!  At daybreak the Count returned to the place, found it empty, and destroyed it.  The men imprisoned in the ditch by Giraud, who had starved for three days, were found to be unhurt and unaffected by the fire, and the Count had them pulled out.  What a great miracle, what an unprecedented event."

Peter fails to explain why the fifty men did not leave the ditch themselves overnight before being "pulled out" by the Count's men.  Perhaps the description or translation of "imprisoned in the ditch" leaves something to be desired which would help to explain this, so I won't speculate on it further here.

William of Tudela notes only that Giraud "went and burned down a rich castle [Puisserguier] belonging to him [Count Simon].  If he had been found there, I think he would have paid for it dearly."  William does not mention the miraculous survival of the garrison, but agrees with Peter that Giraud started a fire.  In William's version, Giraud destroys a castle which he takes from de Montfort but knows he cannot keep.  In Peter's version, Giraud leaves the castle empty and de Montfort destroys it, despite having wanted to keep and garrison it before.  This makes little sense, especially if the garrison had turned out to be unharmed.  William's story, then, seems the more credible of the two, while Peter's avoids describing Simon de Montfort making a mistake (by withdrawing for the night) which cost him a valuable castle.

THE TENTH MIRACLE


After the loss of Puisserguier, the next several laisses describe a series of setbacks for the crusade.  Giraud mutilates the two knights he has taken prisoner and sends them back to Carcassonne.  "This", writes Peter, "was the beginning of sorrows".  The troops in Carcassonne "were at that time in a state of great depression" and "had almost abandoned hope and could think only of flight".  A Cistercian abbot and two monks are murdered.  (The murderer, Peter notes, was killed much later at the siege of Toulouse, thereby receiving divine retribution.  "A just judgment indeed!")

Serious military setbacks follow.  Castres revolts and imprisons the crusader garrison.  Lombers does the same immediately after.  The fierce Count of Foix breaks with de Montfort and attacks Preixan.  In VI, § 135, p. 73-74, as another setback occurs, both the Devil and God reappear to take control of events.  The French clerk left to hold Montreal, "corrupted by the Devil's influence and worse than any infidel" hands the castrum back to its lord, Aimeric.

"However, the Divine judgment of God, the righteous Judge, intervened, and shortly afterwards our Count took a castrum near Montreal called Bram and there captured the clerk together with other adversaries of the faith.  The Count then arranged for him to be degraded by the Bishop of Carcassonne, and had him dragged by a horse through the city of Carcassonne and hanged -- a fitting penalty for his crime."

God's intervention allowed de Montfort only to inflict this horrific punishment and a further, much more famous and more horrible, act of terror.  At the leader of the crusade's orders, his men "put out the eyes of the defenders, over a hundred in number and cut off their noses.  One man was spared one eye so that, as a demonstration of our contempt for our enemies, he could lead the others to Cabaret.  The Count had this punishment carried out not because such mutilation gave him any pleasure but because his opponents had been the first to indulge in atrocities and, cruel executioners that they were, were given to butchering any of our men they might capture by dismembering them.  It was right that they should fall into the pit they had dug themselves and drink from time to time of the cup they so often administered to others.  The Count never took delight in cruelty or in the torture of his enemies."

De Montfort's infamous cruelty at Bram could better be explained as an act of desperation by a leader whose own troops were demoralized and who found himself surrounded by enemies who were rapidly losing their fear of him.  It has also been seen as an act of retaliation for the two knights mutilated by Giraud de Pepieux.  Peter seems about to give an explanation for the atrocity, but then retreats to pointing out that the southerners had been "the first to indulge in atrocities".  His protests that de Montfort experienced no sadistic delight in having this act carried out, perhaps speaks to a more common contemporary perception of the "athlete of Christ".

Despite the opportunity to torture and hang a clerk and mutilate a hundred defenders, Bram had no natural defenses and little military value.  Since things started to go wrong after Puisserguier, Peter has attributed divine intervention only to the fates of two individuals, one of whom received his just deserts years after the events being narrated at this point.  Simon's military fortunes were about to change, however, and so Peter has God reappear:
"Then the Lord, who seemed perhaps to have been asleep, rose up to help His servants and could now be seen more clearly to do great things for us.  In a short space of time we gained the whole region of Minerve save Minerve itself and a castrum known as Ventajou."
 In order to demonstrate this new activity on the part of God, Peter immediately introduces another miracle....

Tuesday, 6 August 2013

Kill 'Em All!

If there were one quote from the Albigensian Crusade which could be said to be instantly recognizable to modern audiences, I'm sure it would be this one:  "Kill 'em all!  Let God sort 'em out".  The past 800 years have seen remarkably few changes to it.  It has gone from Latin into the vernacular and, strangely, back again in a new rendition.  It has had the variations of wording and emphasis which are inevitable in translation.  But the phrase is, in essence, an easily identifiable trope even to those who do not know it stems from the events of the Albigensian crusade.

Here it appears, apparently without irony, as a U.S. Special Forces patch:


CAESARIUS OF HEISTERBACH


The phrase appears to originate from the Dialogus miraculorum ("Dialogue on miracles") by the Cistercian monk Caesarius of Heisterbach.  The text is presented in the form of a dialogue between a novice (a foil character who exists to ask leading questions) and a learned monk who recounts and elucidates miracles (746 of them, in fact).  In due course, they come to discuss the Albigensian Crusade and the sack of Beziers.  The learned monk says:

"When they came to the great city of Beziers; which is said to have contained more than a hundred thousand men, they laid siege to it ; and in the sight of them all the heretics defiled in an unspeakable manner the book of the sacred gospel; and then cast it from the wall towards the Christians, and sending arrows after it, cried: " There is your law, miserable wretches!" But Christ, the author of the gospel, did not suffer such an insult to be hurled at Him unavenged. For some of His followers, burning with zeal for the faith, placed ladders against the wall, and like lions, after the example of those of whom we read in the book of the Maccabbees (2 Macc.xi.ii), fearlessly climbed the walls, and while the heretics were stricken with panic from on high and fled, they opened the gates to the others, and so gained possession of the city.
When they [the crusaders] discovered, from the admissions of some of them [the residents of Beziers], that there were Catholics mingled with the heretics they said the the abbot [Arnau Amalric] "Sir, what shall we do, for we cannot distinguish between the faithful and the heretics." The abbot, like the others, was afraid that many, in fear of death, would pretend to be catholics, and after their departure, would return to their heresy, and is said to have replied "Kill them all for the Lord knoweth them that are His" (2 Tim. ii. 19) and so countless number in that town were slain.
By the Divine favour, they also gained possession of another large town, near Toulouse, called The Beautiful Valley, from its position. When the people there were examined, and all the rest had professed themselves willing to return to the faith, there remained four hundred and fifty, whom the devil hardened in their obstinacy; and of these four hundred were burnt at the stake, and the others hanged on the gallows. The same thing took place in other cities and forts, the wretched folk often giving themselves up to death of their own accord. When the people of Toulouse were brought into the same straits, they promised all satisfaction, but not honestly as was afterwards clear. For the treacherous count of S. Egidius, the prince and leader of all the heretics, after surrendering all his property to the Lateran Council, to wit his lands and his farms, his towns and castles, and after most of them had been occupied by right of war by the good Catholic Simon de Montfort, betook himself to Toulouse, from which City he still harasses and attacks the faithful even to this day."

(translation thanks to http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/caesarius-heresies.html)

It must be noted that the biblical reference in 2 Timothy 2:19 is only "The Lord knoweth them that are his" (KJV) or in the Latin Vulgate bible "Cognovit Dominus qui sunt eius".  The command to "kill them all" being the part famously attributed to the papal legate Arnau Amalric.

In my recent exploration of the phrase online, there seems to be a frequent misquote of the original Latin "Caedite eos.  Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius" as "neca eos omnes, deus suos agnoscet".  This is odd, since this similar Latin version of the same phrase does not come from our source, Caesarius of Heisterbach.  Here is his version, in the original Latin:

http://gahom.ehess.fr/relex/dialogusmiraculorum1/CdH-Dialog.mir.-Vol1/
What is even stranger about the incorrect version ""neca eos omnes, deus suos agnoscet", is that it is clearly reconstructed from the modern vernacular and translated back into Latin, presumably by someone who didn't know the original source but wanted the respectability of a Latin reference.  The invented version lacks the biblical allusion present in Caesarius' version of the second phrase and adds omnes ("all") to the first phrase to bring it more in line with the usual "Kill them all!" rendition in English.

Caesarius of Heisterbach's book was intended for the instruction of novices in the Cistercian order, which was, at the time of Caesarius' composition, still the greatest of the monastic orders.  The Dialogus Miraculorum was highly successful, becoming very popular and widely disseminated.  We do not know exactly when the Dialogus was written, although there are some clues in the text itself.  He states that the Count of S. Egidius (that is, Raymond VI of Toulouse) continues to occupy Toulouse even after the Fourth Lateran Council.  That puts his writing in the comparatively narrow timeframe between Fourth Lateran in 1215 and Raymond VI's death in 1222.  This means that Arnau Amalric, the former head of Caesarius's order, was still alive at the time of his writing and presumably Caesarius would have been reluctant to attribute something to him which would incur his displeasure.

It is unlikely that Caesarius could have anticipated the notoriety which these two sentences would eventually enjoy.  Much has been made of the fact that he does not put the words directly into the mouth of the Arnau Amalric, using the phrase fertur dixisse ("is reported to have said").  However, he also does not seem to be at pains to distance the papal legate from the quotation either.  It is a modern sensibility which attempts to avoid responsibility for indiscriminate slaughter rather than seeing it as a glorious demonstration of divine wrath.  Immediately after recounting Arnau Amalric's remark, Caesarius states that it was as a result of the legate's response that an innumerable number were slain.  Indeed Arnau Amalric himself had no qualms about the indiscriminate slaughter, writing to the pope that the crusaders had "spared no order of persons (whatever their rank, sex, or age) and put to the sword almost twenty thousand people.  After this great slaughter the whole city was despoiled and burnt, as divine vengeance raged marvellously". (translation by Mark Gregory Pegg in "A Most Holy War").  Certainly, neither of the Cistercians (the legate himself or the author recounting his actions) were troubled by the carnage.

Nonetheless, the attribution of the phrase to Arnau Amalric does arouse considerable contention.  Some people are eager to put the words in the legate's mouth in order to demonstrate the brutality of the crusade; others are vehemently opposed to the attribution and would rather see the phrase excluded from the story and forgotten.  As we shall see, in order to make their case, some will ignore information they could include; others will misrepresent when they ought to know better.

YAHOO! ANSWERS


I begin my examination of the historiographical controversy with a typical example of modern Internet wisdom, from Yahoo! Answers:  http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070708133535AAkgxav



This account, interestingly, puts the question in the mouth of Simon de Montfort, the leader of the crusade.  As we have seen, Caesarius does not do so.  He makes it a general question from "they", i.e. the crusaders.  Also, Simon de Montfort did not become the leader of the crusade until after the next city, Carcassonne, also fell after another siege.  A few sentences later, we come across the statement that "a monk present at the siege recorded the answer of the Papal Legate...."  Now, there is no indication at all that Caesarius was present at the siege of Beziers.  He was a contemporary, about 29 at the time, but he does not claim to have been present and I have not seen this claimed about him elsewhere.

Jack P., the author of the Yahoo! Answers entry, clearly knows the story.  He has placed it correctly chronologically and geographically and identified the speaker and his position.  The figure of 20,000 casualties, although likely inaccurate, comes from Arnau Amalric himself.  When the actual phrase is quoted, it is the Latin recreation of the statement which is used, rather than the original, which shows some distortion in the transmission of the story from Caesarius to Jack.

What is interesting to me is what Jack P. has added to the story -- the presence of Simon de Montfort as interlocutor and of Caesarius of Heisterbach as witness.  Why has this story changed to become a personal conversation between Simon and Arnau witnessed by Caesarius?  Possibly additional historical figures have been introduced to the scene in order to better capture the mood of the moment or to give it a better appearance of historicity.  Certainly, some will argue that this is why Arnau Amalric originally appeared as a speaker in the story.  Yahoo! Answers now lists the original context of the phrase as a "resolved question" but we shall see that in the community of historians, it is not.

WIKIPEDIA


The debate has, predictably, spilled onto the many Wikipedia pages which mention the infamous phrase.  A typical critic of the attribution explains his removal of it in the discussion page for the entry on Beziers:
I have removed the text - see the debate on the Albigensian Crusade. The original text read: 
The commander of the crusade was the Papal Legate Arnaud-Amaury (or Arnald Amalaricus, Abbot of Citeaux). When asked by a Crusader how to tell Catholics from Cathars once they had taken the city, the abbot supposedly replied, "Kill them all, God will know His own" - "Neca eos omnes. Deus suos agnoscet". (This phrase can only be found in one source, Caesarius of Heisterbach along with a story of some Cathars who desecrated a copy of the Old Testament and threw it from the town's walls.)
Firstly, the Legate was not leader of the Crusade, but its spiritual director: the leadership appears to have been collegiate at the time, but was taken in hand by de Montfort after the massacre. Moreover, as Abbot of Citeaux Amaury was Head of the Cistercian Order, and therefore influential in the military Orders as well, which is why he was important - the attribution is therefore incorrect. Secondly, the Sisley and Sisley edition of Vaux de Cernay quotes correspondance between Amaury and the Vatican demonstrating the massacre was the result of a command breakdown. The leadership were in conference working on another attempt to negociate the removal of the town's catholics when the camp followers, angered by the mutilation of one of their number, unexpectedly broke into the town: there was consequently no possibility Amaury could have replied as quoted, because he was in a meeting actively planning the exact opposite. The main crusading force then attempted to stop the rabble looting, which resulted in the camp-followers setting fire to the town, causing huge loss of life. Thirdly, Heisterbach was writing forty years after the event, was not supported by any primary source, and would fail our test of NPOV.
It is interesting that, rather than examining Caesarius' credibility, the writer here doubts the event because it "can only be found in one source".  There are many, many events of the Albigensian crusade which are only attested to by a single source.  This writer then goes on to insist that Arnau Amalric was not the leader of the Albigensian crusade at the time, which is inaccurate.  In addition to being the "spiritual director", Arnau Amalric commanded the crusade militarily until he passed that burden on to Simon de Montfort.  That was after the fall of Carcassonne, of course, not after the massacre at Beziers.  William of Tudela, for example, describes the army approaching Beziers thus:  "On the feast of St Mary Magdalen the abbot of Citeaux [Arnau Amalric] brought his huge army to Beziers and encamped it on the sandy plains around the city."
 
The statement that as head of the Cistercian order, Arnau was "influential in the military Orders" is similarly odd.  The Cistercians were certainly not a military order, nor were the Hospitallers or Templars ever involved in the Albigensian crusade.

The writer then refers to the letter from Arnau Amalric to Pope Innocent III as providing Arnau with an alibi.  This is a thought-provoking claim and worthy of greater attention than historians have usually given it.  Here is what Arnau's letter says (in Appendix A of the Siblys' translation of William of Puylaurens' Chronicle):

"The city seemed to be so well defended, by virtue of its location, its strength in men and an adequate supply of provisions, that its citizens believed it would be able to resist an army of whatever size for a long time.  However, no courage, no counsel can avail against the Lord, and whilst discussions were still going on with the barons about the release of those in the city who were deemed to be Catholics, the ribauds and other persons, of low degree and unarmed, attacked the city without waiting for orders from their leaders.  To our amazement, crying 'to arms, to arms!', within the space of two or three hours they crossed the ditches and the walls and Beziers was taken.  Our men spared no one, irrespective or rank, sex or age, and put to the sword almost 20,000 people.  After this great slaughter the whole city was despoiled and burnt, as Divine vengeance raged marvellously."
While the capture of the walls by the camp followers was quite fortuitous, then, it was not sudden.  Arnau Amalric describes the assault as taking "two or three hours."  It is true that the legate was in meetings regarding the possible separation of inhabitants of Beziers into those to be killed and those who might be released under certain conditions, but he does not say what the discussion centred on, nor what his own contribution to that discussion was.  Mere claims to orthodoxy would have appeared to be insufficient to save a resident, in light of the ominous phrasing "the release of those in the city who were deemed to be Catholics".  Certainly, the loot to be gained from taking the city was likely a primary concern.  Earlier in the letter, Arnau writes: "Clear warnings had been conveyed to the citizens of that city [Beziers], through ourselves and their own Bishop, and we had threatened them with excommunication if they failed to hand over the heretics in the city with their possessions ...."  Later in the same letter, describing the siege of Carcassonne, Arnau appears to describe a similar discussion with the barons to that which had occurred at Beziers:  "Since, to a greater extent than our men expected, the citizens were suffering from a serious shortage of food, they offered themselves, their possessions and their city to the crusaders, on condition that their lives would be mercifully spared and that they would be led out from the city to safety, even for a single day.  Discussions were held on our side and the leaders of the army were led by necessity to show mercy in the manner proposed; firstly, because it seemed clear that the city could not be taken easily ... secondly, because we greatly feared that if the city were to be captured, then, as had already happened in other places, everything would be destroyed by fire ...."  Note that it is necessity which leads to a merciful decision in these discussions and that the two stated reasons are tactical in nature and not concerned with matters of faith or human sympathy.  Considering this, the earlier discussions at Beziers could also be understood to have concerned themselves with the disposition of the property of the inhabitants of Beziers and how it could best be seized.   On this understanding, one could well imagine that news of the unexpected taking of the walls of the city would have forestalled further planning and that the leader of the crusade would be asked just such a question as how the crusaders were now to attempt to tell the good from the bad as the crusading forces began to rush into the city.

Thirdly, and finally, in a final attempt to discredit Caesarius of Heisterbach, the Wikipedia author transports our monk thirty years forward in time to "forty years after the event" and nine after his own death.  As we have seen, he wrote this section of the Dialogus miraculorum between six and thirteen years after the sack of Beziers and was a contemporary.  He is moved from being a primary source, to being "not supported by any primary source".  Lastly, and most confusingly, it is supposed that our Cistercian abbot would fail Wikipedia's test of "Neutral Point of View".  It would be difficult for any medieval ecclesiastical author to pass it, but if we are to exclude Caesarius, we must certainly exclude Peter of les Vaux-de-Cernay, whose propagandist Historia Albigensis is the main primary source for many of the events of the Albigensian crusade.

The attempts here to condemn or exculpate Arnau Amalric as the origin of the phrase are not the inventions of Jack P. or the Wikipedia contributor.  They stem from generations of historians whose differing interpretations have appeared in print.  The historians whose works appear on my shelf and who mention this supposed utterance, are listed below with my commentary.

THE HISTORIANS


Zoe Oldenbourg in "Massacre at Montsegur" (1959):
"'Kill them all; God will look after His own.'  The famous, too famous, remark, attributed to Arnald-Amalric by the German, Caesar von Heisterbach, is not so much a genuine historical mot as a critical comment on the nature of this episode.  It might serve as the motto for any ideological or supposedly ideological war.  Whether Arnald had sufficient imagination to coin a phrase of this sort, or whether he in fact never said the words at all, it remains true that the Crusaders' instructions at the sacking of Beziers do indeed seem to have been 'Kill them all' -- with or without the rider concerning itself over how God might treat the souls of their victims.
William of Tudela is quite specific on the matter:
"The nobles of France, clergy and laity, Princes and Marquises, were agreed amongst themselves that whenever a chateau they invested refused to surrender, and had to be taken by force, the inhabitants were to be put to the sword and slain; thinking that afterwards no man would dare to stand out against them by reason of the fear that would go abroad when it was seen what they had already done."
If 'the nobles of France' really did take such a decision, they calculated with some accuracy. In his subsequent letter to the Pope, Arnald-Amalric preened himself on this unexpected and miraculous victory, announcing triumphantly that 'nearly twenty thousand of the citizens were put to the sword, regardless of age and sex.' 
It would be useful, nevertheless, to know if the Crusaders' intentions were, in fact, what William of Tudela supposed them to be -- and even if so, whether events did not go rather further than they intended.  Normally if there was any quesiton of putting a city's inhabitants to the sword after a siege, this referred solely to the male population.  Women and children were only subject to such hazards of war as a measure of reprisal or when the fighting got completely out of hand; it was very rare for commanders to issue a decree of this sort in cold blood.  However bloodthirsty he might have been, Arnald-Amalric would never have authorized the massacre of priests.  With the routiers, however, it was another matter entirely.  As the Chanson so picturesquely puts it, they had no fear of death and killed all who stood in their way.  They were the first attackers into the city, and their lust for slaughter was notorious; it was they who were chiefly responsible for this massacre, and indeed they had neither the means nor the inclination to send a message asking the Commander-in-Chief what action they should take.  There was no need to tell these men to 'kill them all'; they made not the slightest distinction between Catholic and heretic.
Those historians who favour the Crusade will, therefore, be tempted to place all responsibility for the massacre of Beziers on these bands of ruffians, these 'Basques and Aragonese' and other professional criminals, Godless men by definition and therefore possessing nothing in common with the Crusaders proper."
 Oldenbourg's suggestion that the phrase would serve any suitably ideological military chillingly anticipated the adoption of the motto by the U.S. Special forces in the following decade.  She was also quite accurate in her historiographical prediction that historians wishing to minimize the responsibility of Arnau Amalric would cast him as unconsulted or helpless during the massacre.

Jacques Maudale in "The Albigensian Crusade" (1967):
"Whether or not Arnaud-Amalric uttered the notorious words since attributed to him, "Kill all of them; God will know his own", he bears responsibility for this incredible massacre which he certainly had the power to stop.  But he wanted to hold it up as an example so that terror might spread throughout the land and other citadels fall more easily.  If he did not order the massacre he certainly did not oppose it, and he obtained the hoped-for result...."
Maudale here continues the tradition of neutrality about the correctness of attributing the phrase, but insists on Arnaud Amalric's control of the army during the massacre.  This latter is a contentious point.

Jonathan Sumption in "The Albigensian Crusade" (1978):
"A German monk repeated a story that Arnald-Amaury, when asked in the middle of the slaughter how the catholics could be distinguished from the heretics, replied 'Kill them all; God will recognize his own'; and this motto has passed into history as the epitome of the spirit which had brought the crusaders to the south.  Whether Arnald-Amaury was consulted, or ever uttered any such sentiment, remains unclear.  But it is not important.  The legate reported the massacre without comment to Innocent III, remarking only that 'neither age, nor sex, nor status had been spared'.  Neither he nor his clerical colleagues had any sympathy even for the catholic victims."
 Sumption takes caution a step further than Oldenbourg or Maudale, suggesting that Arnaud Amalric might not even have been consulted.  He sees the legate witnessing, reporting and failing to feel sympathy -- as passive rather than active in events.  He is also the earliest source I have found who places the incident "in the middle of the slaughter", rather than before it.  Caesarius of Heisterbach portrayed events in a sequence:  the walls are taken, the residents questioned, the legate consulted, and the slaughter subsequently carried out.  Sumption removes responsibility from Arnau Amalric by suggesting that the slaughter had already begun before the legate was consulted, if he was at all.

 Malcolm Lambert in "The Cathars" (1998):
"Amaury, as legate and spiritual leader accompanying the army, was asked what should be done with the the inhabitants and replied in a tradition reported by the Cistercian chronicler, Cesarius of Heisterbach: 'Massacre them for the Lord knows his own.'  Cesarius liked to give his sources and it may be significant that in this case he introduces the mot with the words 'he is reported to have said', on the other hand, Amaury's words incorporate a quotation from the second epistle of Paul to Timothy dealing with the question of heresy, which the Glossa Ordinaria treated as a reference to predestination.  This makes it a little more likely that these words from the mouth of an educated member of the hierarchy were authentic."
Lambert is the first of the sources I have on hand who examines the reliability of Caesarius of Heisterbach, noting that the author gives no source for the story and that the phrase is introduced as hearsay.  However, he sees the biblical reference as an authenticating element.

Malcolm Barber in "The Cathars" (2000):
"The notorious phrase, 'Kill them all, God will know his own' derives originally from the Dialogue on miracles by the Cistercian Caesarius of Heisterbach and is usually (although not invariably) discounted by serious historians.  However, the quotation is frequently used by those wishing to promote the idea of northern brutality intent upon crushing southern civilisation.  The passage in question reads as follows: 'Knowing from confessions of these Catholics that they were mixed up with heretics, they [the crusaders] said to the abbot [Arnauld Amalric]: What shall we do, lord?  We cannot tell the good from the bad.  The abbot, as well as others, fearing that as they were in such great fear of death they [the heretics] would pretend to be Catholics, and after they had left again return to their perfidy, is said to have said (fertur dixisse): Kill them.  For God knows who are his.  Thus innumerable persons were killed in that city' ....  It is noticeable that most commentators insert 'all' for the sake of emphasis and omit fertur dixisse by which Caesarius makes clear that this is hearsay.  On the other hand, Caesarius was, like Arnauld Amalric, a Cistercian, and therefore may have had some knowledge of this, particularly as his reference to the role of Conrad of Urach as legate (1220-24) shows that he was not writing later than 1224."
Barber notes that opinions on the phrase fall on opposing sides of a deeper historiographical conflict in the portrayal of the crusaders generally.  It is hard to know who he means by "serious historians" as I have in my possession only one (Marvin, below) who actually discounts the phrase.  Barber seems to take exception to translations which include the word "all", but the inclusion does not alter the phrase's meaning at all, while allowing it to stand without the context of the preceding question.  Barber also suggests that Caesarius's use of fertur dixisse is ignored by "most commentators".  I have not been able to find one in print who presents Caesarius of Heisterbach as directly quoting Arnau Amalric.  As you can see in the other examples, it is usually portrayed as an "anecdote", "tradition", or "attribution".  Perhaps Barber had just been reading authors less careful than those on my shelf.

Elaine Graham-Leigh in "The Southern French Nobility and the Albigensian Crusade" (2005):
"Caesarius appears to have been particularly interested in the capture of Beziers, devoting more attention to it than to the question of heresy generally.  Since he had no discernible connection to either Beziers or to Languedoc, it would be easy to dismiss his account, in comparison with more local sources of information, as inaccurate and ill-informed.  However, Caesarius' account of the sack of Beziers can be extremely valuable for the history of the Albigensian crusade, as it represents the Cistercian viewpoint, that of the Cistercian papal legates and, in particular, of Arnauld Amaury.
The originality of Caesarius' two anecdotes concerning Beziers, Arnauld Amaury's comment and the casting of the Gospel from the walls of the town by the heretics, suggests that he had different sources of information from the other authors who described the sack, and makes it unlikely that he used a written account, such as that of Pierre des Vaux, as his exemplar.  It has been recognised that Caesarius did not use exclusively written sources for the Dialogus Miraculorum, but also made use of anecdotes and stories which were told in his monastery.  For any Cistercian house, the annual Cistercian General Chapter was a major source of information and gossip, the 'meeting place for stories from all over Europe'.  It does not seem unreasonable to assume that the Abbot of Heisterbach would have brought back such stories from the Chapter, and, indeed, at various points in the Dialogus Caesarius refers to the General Chapter as the source of a story.  While he makes no such acknowledgement in his passage about Beziers, it is possible that either the account given by Arnauld to the Chapter of his activities in Languedoc, or general gossip among the Abbots, was the source of Caesarius' unique version of events.
Caesarius's work, like that of Pierre des Vaux, can be seen as a particularly legatine source, but there is a distinct difference between the approach of the two accounts.  Pierre des Vaux, as has been discussed, was presenting the official legatine version of the crusade, designed to show the crusade and the Church in as good a light as possible.  His approach to such unfortunate episodes as the sack of Beziers was to both justify and minimise, to ensure the exculpation of the Church.  Caesarius's value lies in the fact that his version of the sack of Beziers is the Cistercian legatine version uncorrupted by such considerations.  Caesarius was using a peculiarly Cistercian source of information, not intended for those outside the order, and his use of it was also internal.  Caesarius was the master of novices at Heisterbach, and the Dialogus seems to have been intended for use in educating Cistercian novices, rather than for any circulation outside the order.
Caesarius's account of the sack of Beziers can be used as a companion piece to that given by Pierre des Vaux, as these two sources represent the same viewpoint in two different guises.  Pierre des Vaux`s account was constructed for external consumption, to justify the Cistercian legatine version of the crusade.  Caesarius's was the Cistercian version, unaffected by any justification and intended for purely internal consumption.  Despite its lack of geographical or temporal proximity to the events it describes, Caesarius's account of the sack of Beziers brings the historian the closest, out of all the narrative sources for the Albigensian crusade, to the real thoughts of the initial leader of the crusade."
In this analysis, Graham-Leigh comes the closest I have found to concluding that the quote legitimately belonged to Arnau Amalric. Rather than arguing from the biblical reference or from Arnau's personality, as historians had done a generation or two earlier, she makes the link between the Cistercian author and the Cistercian former legate to whom he attributes the phrase.  She does not mention that Arnau Amalric was still alive, and the former head of Caesarius's Order, but underlines instead the methods by which the phrase could have traveled from the who may have said it to the one who recorded it.

Christopher Tyerman in "God's War" (2006):
"In a later, possibly apocryphal, anecdote, when asked by priests how they could distinguish whom to kill, Abbot Arnauld Aimery, worried lest the heretics escaped by pretending to be Catholics, ordered, 'Kill them.  The Lord knows who are his own.'  Even the crowds who sheltered in the main churches were not spared.  The legates estimated that 20,000 died in the carnage and called it a miracle.  The true figure was almost certainly far less.  The massacre may have been premeditated.  Rumours suggested that discussions in the papal Curia in 1208 had authorized the destruction of any who resisted the crusade.  The Navarrese cleric William of Tudela (d. c. 1213), who composed a Provencal verse account of the early stages of the Albigensian crusades, noted that the crusade leaders decided to make examples of the inhabitants of any town taken by storm pour encourager les autres.  'They would then find no one daring to resist them, so great would be the terror produced ... that is why the inhabitants of Beziers were massacred; they were all killed, it was the worst they could do to them.'"
Tyerman is hesitant to portray the quotation as definite, referring to it as "possibly apocryphal".  This is odd in light of his lack of hesitation in reporting as fact a much less credible story from another Cistercian, Peter of les Vaux-de-Cernay.  He also refers back to the premeditation of the massacre to which William of Tudela attested.  His mention of "rumours" of discussions in the papal curia the previous year are intriguing and I wish he had included a footnote explaining where he found these rumours.  Strangely, Tyerman casts the posers of the question as "priests" rather than crusaders, although Caesarius never mentions "priests".
 
Mark Gregory Pegg in "A Most Holy War" (2008):
"A decade after the immolation of Beziers, Caesarius of Heisterbach encapsulated the murderous eschatology of the crusaders in an exemplum praising the wisdom of Arnau Amalric.  The soldiers of Christ, though exulting in the capture of Beziers, worried that they could not sort out the faithful from the heretics among the men and women of the city.  "Lord," the crusaders asked the abbot of Citeaux, "what shall we do?"  The abbot, thinking for a moment, replied, "Kill them!  Truly, God will know his own!"  Whatever the truth of this anecdote -- and there is only the report of Caesarius -- it nevertheless lauded a homicidal ethic that, while shifting and changing through the decades, was an essential principle of the holy war on heresy.  "If it can be shown that some heretics are in a city," lectured the Bolognese legal scholar Johannes Teutonicus (in a commentary on Gratian) around 1217, "then all the inhabitants can be burnt."
Like Graham-Leigh, Pegg notes the purpose of Caesarius of Heisterbach's writing.  However, although referring to the controversy over "the truth of this anecdote" he comes the closest to earning Barber's criticism about commentators omitting the "hearsay" caveat which Caesarius includes.

Laurence Marvin in "The Occitan War" (2008):
"Much of what has been written about the crusade since the nineteenth century has tended to be anti-church or pro-Occitan, and the events of the year 1209 provide easy fodder for these agendas.  The legate Arnaud-Amaury's apocryphal remarks, supposedly made at the height of the sack of Beziers, will never go away, and they have to be dealt with in any discussion of what happened there.  No matter who gets the blame, undoubtedly 1209 ushered in a time of troubles for the people of the south."
[...]
"Most famous of all is the story that supposedly at the height of the fighting, as the crusaders forced their way into the town, someone asked the legate Arnauld-Amaury how they would separate the good Christians from the heretics.  His apocryphal words, 'Kill them, God knows who are his," reported by a Cistercian monk with a fanciful imagination, have become a byword for religious intolerance, placing what happened at Beziers on the top rung of pre-modern atrocities.  Though Arnauld-Amaury was not above executing heretics, in 1210 this inflexible and unyielding man gave Cathars who surrendered a fair chance to abjure their heresy and so avoid execution, which heaps more doubt on the credibility of Caesarius' report.  The speed and spontaneity of the attack indicates that the legate may not have actually known what was going on until it was over."
Marvin is the only historian I have found who takes a firm stand on the accuracy of the attribution, stating flatly that the "remarks" (not "commands") were apocryphal.  Now, "apocryphal" can either mean "untrue" or "of doubtful authenticity" and it is not perfectly clear which Marvin means, although his description of Caesarius of Heisterbach as "a Cistercian monk with a fanciful imagination", and his counter-example of Arnau's tolerance suggest the former.  Like Sumption, Marvin shifts the timing of the phrase.  Sumption put it "in the middle of the slaughter"; Marvin puts it "at the height of the sack of Beziers" and later "at the height of the fighting".  Going a step further than Sumption, who suggested that Arnau Amalric might have been powerless to stop the massacre, he suggests that the legate may not even have known about it until afterward.  Marvin's estimation of Arnau Amalric's tendency for mercy does not accord well with the legate's conduct at other massacres, nor with his cynical comment about the "fair chance" he was giving heretics in 1210.  That topic will deserve its own post later. 

CONCLUSION


What we can conclude is that the fairness of attributing the phrase to Arnau Amalric is still contested, 800 years after Caesarius of Heisterbach first did so.  Doubtless, the question will never be resolved to everyone's satisfaction.  Like many of the contentious topics of the Albigensian crusade, historians are free to place importance on different factors depending on the outcome which best agrees with their sensibilities.

What I note is that the Dialogus miraculorum is not a history, but a hagiography.  It is an account of 746 miracles, none of which can be considered an accurate historical event, unless it is a misunderstanding of one.  Caesarius's work must be understood in the context of an author passing along hundreds of small, edifying stories, all of which were at least partly invented.  We cannot know whether the phrase passed accurately from Arnau Amalric's mouth to Caesarius's text, but we can speculate on why Caesarius included the anecdote and what he intended to achieve by it.  He seems to have presented the former head of the Cistercian order's handling of the situation as laudable and a good example for the novices who formed his intended audience.  Certainly, he did not expect the controversy which would arise from our reactions so many centuries later.

In my next post, I explore the reliability of another Cistercian whose "history" contains a combination of historical events and ahistorical miracles.