L'aur' amara fals bruels brancutz clarzir quel dons espeys' ab fuelhs, els letz becxs dels auzels ramencx te balbs e mutz pars e non pars.
per qu'ieu m'esfortz de far e dir plazers A manhs? per ley qui m'a virat has d'aut, don tern morir sils afans nom asoma.
"The bitter breeze makes light the bosky boughs which the gentle breeze [57]
makes thick with leaves, and the joyous beaks of the birds in the branches it keeps silent and dumb, paired and not paired. Wherefore do I strive to say and do what is pleasing to many? For her, who has cast me down from on high, for which I fear to die, if she does not end the sorrow for me."
The answers to the seventeen rime-words which occur in this stanza do not appear till the following stanza, the same rimes being kept throughout the six stanzas of the poem. To rest the listener's ear, while he waited for the answering rimes, Arnaut used light a.s.sonances which almost amount to rime in some cases. The Monk of Montaudon in his satirical _sirventes_ says of Arnaut: "He has sung nothing all his life, except a few foolish verses which no one understands"; and we may reasonably suppose that Arnaut's poetry was as obscure to many of his contemporaries as it is to us.
Dante placed Bertran de Born in h.e.l.l, as a sower of strife between father and son, and there is no need to describe his picture of the troubadour--
"Who held the severed member lanternwise And said, Ah me!"(_Inf._ xxviii. 119-142.)
The genius of Dante, and the poetical fame of Bertran himself, have given him a more important position in history than is, perhaps, [58]
entirely his due. Jaufre, the prior of Vigeois, an abbey of Saint-Martial of Limoges, is the only chronicler during the reigns of Henry II. and Richard Coeur de Lion who mentions Bertran's name. The _razos_ prefixed to some of his poems by way of explanation are the work of an anonymous troubadour (possibly Uc de Saint-Cire); they constantly misinterpret the poems they attempt to explain, confuse names and events, and rather exaggerate the part played by Bertran himself.
Besides these sources we have the cartulary of Dalon, or rather the extracts made from it by Guignieres in 1680 (the original has been lost), which give us information about Bertran's family and possessions.
From these materials, and from forty-four or forty-five poems which have come down to us, the poet's life can be reconstructed.
Bertran de Bern's estates were situated on the borders of Limousin and Perigord. The family was ancient and honourable; from the cartulary Bertran appears to have been born about 1140; we find him, with his brother Constantin, in possession of the castle of Hautefort, which seems to have been a strong fortress; the lands belonging to the family were of no great extent, and the income accruing from them was but scanty. In 1179 Bertran married one Raimonde, of whom nothing is known, except that she bore him at least two sons. In 1192 he lost this first [59]
wife, and again married a certain Philippe. His warlike and turbulent character was the natural outcome of the conditions under which he lived; the feudal system divided the country into a number of fiefs, the boundaries of which were ill defined, while the lords were constantly at war with one another. All owed allegiance to the Duke of Aquitaine, the Count of Poitou, but his suzerainty was, in the majority of cases, rather a name than a reality. These divisions were further accentuated by political events; in 1152 Henry II., Count of Anjou and Maine, married Eleanor, the divorced wife of Louis VII. of France, and mistress of Aquitaine. Henry became king of England two years later, and his rule over the barons of Aquitaine, which had never been strict, became the more relaxed owing to his continual absence in England.
South of Aquitaine proper the dominions of the Count of Toulouse stretched from the Garonne to the Alps; this potentate was also called the Duke of Narbonne, and was not disposed to recognise the suzerainty of the Duke of Aquitaine. But in 1167 Alfonso II., King of Aragon and Count of Barcelona, had inherited Provence, to which the Duke of Toulouse laid claim. Henry and Alfonso thus became natural allies, and the power of Alfonso in Aragon and Catalonia, was able to keep in check any serious attempt that the Count of Toulouse might have meditated on [60]
Aquitaine. On the other hand, Henry had also to deal with a formidable adversary in the person of the French king, his lawful suzerain in France. Louis VII. (or Philippe Auguste) was able to turn the constant revolts that broke out in Aquitaine to his own ends. These circ.u.mstances are sufficient to account for the warlike nature of Bertran de Born's poetry. The first _sirventes_ which can be dated with certainty belongs to 1181, and is a call to the allies of Raimon V, Count of Toulouse, to aid their master against the King of Aragon. What Bertran's personal share in the campaign was, we do not know. He was soon involved in a quarrel with his brother Constantin, with whom he held the castle of Hautefort in common. Constantin was driven out and succeeded in persuading the Count of Limoges and Richard, Duke of Aquitaine, to help him. Richard, however, was occupied elsewhere, and Bertran survived all attacks upon the castle. In 1182 he went to the court of Henry II., during a temporary lull in the wars around him; there he proceeded to pay court to the Princess Matilda, daughter of Henry II., whose husband, Henry of Saxony, was then on a pilgrimage. He also took part in the political affairs of the time. Henry II.'s eldest son, Henry "the young king," had been crowned in 1170 at Westminster, and was anxious to have [61]
something more than the t.i.tle, seeing that his brother Richard was Duke of Aquitaine, Count of Poitou, and practically an independent sovereign.
Bertran had not forgotten Richard's action against him on behalf of his brother Constantin, and was, moreover, powerfully attracted by the open and generous nature of the young king. He therefore took his side, and on his return to Limousin became the central point of the league which was formed against Richard. Henry II. succeeded in reconciling his two sons, the young Henry receiving pecuniary compensation in lieu of political power. But the young Henry seems to have been really moved by Bertran's reproaches, and at length revolted against his father and attacked his brother Richard. While he was in Turenne, the young king fell sick and died on June 11, 1183. Bertran lamented his loss in two famous poems, and soon felt the material effects of it. On June 29, Richard and the King of Aragon arrived before Hautefort, which surrendered after a week's resistance. Richard restored the castle to Constantin, but Bertran regained possession, as is related in the second biography.
Henceforward, Bertran remained faithful to Richard, and directed his animosity chiefly against the King of Aragon. At the same time it appears that he would have been equally pleased with any war, which [62]
would have brought profit to himself, and attempted to excite Richard against his father, Henry II. This project came to nothing, but war broke out between Richard and the French king; a truce of two years was concluded, and again broken by Richard. The Church, however, interfered with its efforts to organise the Third Crusade, which called from Bertran two _sirventes_ in honour of Conrad, son of the Marquis of Montferrat, who was defending Tyre against Saladin. Bertran remained at home in Limousin during this Crusade; his means were obviously insufficient to enable him to share in so distant a campaign; other, and for him, equally cogent reasons for remaining at home may be gathered from his poems. There followed the quarrels between Richard and the French king, the return to France of the latter, and finally Richard's capture on the Illyrian coast and his imprisonment by Henry VI. of Austria, which terminated in 1194. Richard then came into Aquitaine, his return being celebrated by two poems from Bertran.
The Provencal biography informs us that Bertran finally became a monk in the Order of Citeaux. The convent where he spent his last years was the abbey of Dalon, near Hautefort. The cartulary mentions his name at various intervals from 1197 to 1202. In 1215 we have the entry "_octavo,[63]
candela in sepulcro ponitur pro Bernardo de Born: cera tres solidos empta est_." This is the only notice of the poet's death.
Dante perhaps exaggerated the part he played in stirring up strife between Henry II. and his sons; modern writers go to the other extreme.
Bertran is especially famous for his political _sirventes_ and for the martial note which rings through much of his poetry. He loved war both for itself and for the profits which it brought: "The powerful are more generous and open-handed when they have war than when they have peace."
The troubadour's two _planhs_ upon the "young king's" death are inspired by real feeling, and the story of his reconciliation with Henry after the capture of his castle can hardly have been known to Dante, who would surely have modified his judgment upon the troubadour if he had remembered that scene as related by the biography. Sir Bertran was summoned with all his people to King Henry's tent, who received him very harshly and said, "Bertran, you declared that you never needed more than half your senses; it seems that to-day you will want the whole of them."
"Sire", said Bertran, "it is true that I said so and I said nothing but the truth." The king replied, "Then you seem to me to have lost your senses entirely". "I have indeed lost them", said Bertran. "And how?" [64]
asked the king. "Sire, on the day that the n.o.ble king, your son, died, I lost sense, knowledge and understanding." When the king heard Bertran speak of his son with tears, he was deeply moved and overcome with grief. On recovering himself he cried, weeping, "Ah, Bertran, rightly did you lose your senses for my son, for there was no one in the world whom he loved as you. And for love of him, not only do I give you your life, but also your castle and your goods, and I add with my love five hundred silver marks to repair the loss which you have suffered."
The narrative is unhistorical; Henry II. was not present in person at the siege of Hautefort; but the fact is certain that he regarded Bertran as the chief sower of discord in his family.
Mention must now be made of certain troubadours who were less important than the three last mentioned, but are of interest for various reasons.
Raimbaut d'Aurenga, Count of Orange from 1150-1173, is interesting rather by reason of his relations with other troubadours than for his own achievements in the troubadours' art. He was a follower of the precious, artificial and obscure style, and prided himself upon his skill in the combination of difficult rimes and the repet.i.tion of equivocal rimes (the same word used in different senses or grammatical forms). "Since Adam ate the apple," he says, "there is no poet, loud as [65]
he may proclaim himself, whose art is worth a turnip compared with mine." Apart from these mountebank tricks and certain mild "conceits"
(his lady's smile, for instance, makes him happier than the smile of four hundred angels could do), the chief characteristic of his poetry is his constant complaints of slanderers who attempt to undermine his credit with his lady. But he seems to have aroused a pa.s.sion in the heart of a poetess, who expressed her feelings in words which contrast strongly with Raimbaut's vapid sentimentalities.
This was Beatrice, Countess of Die and the wife of Count William of Poitiers. The names, at least, of seventeen poetesses are known to us and of these the Countess of Die is the most famous. Like the rest of her s.e.x who essayed the troubadour's art, the Countess knows nothing of difficult rhymes or obscurity of style. Simplicity and sincerity are the keynotes of her poetry. The troubadour sang because he was a professional poet, but the lady who composed poetry did so from love of the art or from the inspiration of feeling and therefore felt no need of meretricious adornment for her song. The five poems of the Countess which remain to us show that her sentiment for Raimbaut was real and deep. "I am glad to know that the man I love is the worthiest in the world; may G.o.d give great joy to the one who first brought me to him: [66]
may he trust only in me, whatever slanders be reported to him: for often a man plucks the rod with which he beats himself. The woman who values her good name should set her love upon a n.o.ble and valiant knight: when she knows his worth, let her not hide her love. When a woman loves thus openly, the n.o.ble and worthy speak of her love only with sympathy."
Raimbaut, however, did not reciprocate these feelings: in a _tenso_ with the countess he shows his real sentiments while excusing his conduct. He a.s.sures her that he has avoided her only because he did not wish to provide slanderers with matter for gossip; to which the Countess replies that his care for her reputation is excessive. Peire Rogier whose poetical career lies between the years 1160 and 1180, also spent some time at Raimbaut's court. He belonged to Auvergne by birth and was attached to the court of Ermengarde of Narbonne for some years: here there is no doubt that we have a case of a troubadour in an official position and nothing more: possibly Peire Rogier's tendency to preaching--he had been educated for the church--was enough to stifle any sentiment on the lady's side. On leaving Narbonne, he visited Raimbaut at Orange and afterwards travelled to Spain and Toulouse, finally entering a monastery where he ended his life.
Auvergne produced a far more important troubadour in the person of Peire [67]
d'Auvergne, whose work extended from about 1158 to 1180; he was thus more or less contemporary with Guiraut de Bornelh and Bernart de Ventadour. He was, according to the biography, the son of a citizen of Clermont-Ferrand, and "the first troubadour, who lived beyond the mountains (i.e. the Pyrenees, which, however, Marcabrun had previously crossed)... he was regarded as the best troubadour until Guiraut de Bornelh appeared.... He was very proud of his talents and despised other troubadours." Other notices state that he was educated for an ecclesiastical career and was at one time a canon. He had no small idea of his own powers: "Peire d'Auvergne," he says in his satire upon other troubadours "has such a voice that he can sing in all tones and his melodies are sweet and pleasant: he is master of his art, if he would but put a little clarity into his poems, which are difficult to understand." The last observation is entirely correct: his poems are often very obscure. Peire travelled, in the pursuit of his profession, to the court of Sancho III. of Castile and made some stay in Spain: he is also found at the courts of Raimon V. of Toulouse and, like Peire Rogier, at Narbonne. Among his poems, two are especially well known. In a love poem he makes the nightingale his messenger, as Marcabrun had [68]
used the starling and as others used the swallow or parrot. But in comparison with Marcabrun, Peire d'Auvergne worked out the idea with a far more delicate poetical touch. The other poem is a _sirventes_ which is of interest as being the first attempt at literary satire among the troubadours; the satire is often rather of a personal than of a literary character; the following quotations referring to troubadours already named will show Peire's ideas of literary criticism. "Peire Rogier sings of love without restraint and it would befit him better to carry the psalter in the church or to bear the lights with the great burning candles. Guiraut de Bornelh is like a sun-bleached cloth with his thin miserable song which might suit an old Norman water-carrier. Bernart de Ventadour is even smaller than Guiraut de Bornelh by a thumb's length; but he had a servant for his father who shot well with the long bow while his mother tended the furnace." The satiric _sirventes_ soon found imitators: the Monk of Montaudon produced a similar composition. Like many other troubadours, Peire ended his life in a monastery. To this period of his career probably, belong his religious poems of which we shall have occasion to speak later.
We have already observed that the Church contributed members, though with some reluctance, to the ranks of the troubadours. One of the most [69]
striking figures of the kind is the Monk of Montaudon (1180-1200): the satirical power of his _sirventes_ attracted attention, and he gained much wealth at the various courts which he visited; this he used for the benefit of his priory. He enjoyed the favour of Philippe Auguste II. of France, of Richard Coeur de Lion and of Alfonso II. of Aragon, with that of many smaller n.o.bles. The biography says of him, "E fo faitz seigner de la cort del Puoi Santa Maria e de dar l'esparvier. Lone temps ac la seignoria de la cort del Puoi, tro que la cortz se perdet." "He was made president of the court of Puy Sainte Marie and of awarding the sparrow-hawk. For a long time he held the presidency of the court of Puy, until the court was dissolved." The troubadour Richard de Barbezieux refers to this court, which seems to have been a periodical meeting attended by the n.o.bles and troubadours of Southern Prance.
Tournaments and poetical contests were held; the sparrow-hawk or falcon placed on a pole is often mentioned as the prize awarded to the tournament victor. Tennyson's version of the incident in his "Geraint and Enid" will occur to every reader. The monk's reputation must have been considerable to gain him this position. His love poems are of little importance; his satire deals with the petty failings of mankind, for which he had a keen eye and an unsparing and sometimes cynical [70]
tongue.
Bem enoia, s'o auzes dire, Parliers quant es avols servire; Et hom qui trop vol aut a.s.sire M'enoia, e cavals que tire.
Et enoiam, si Dieus m'aiut Joves hom quan trop port' escut, Que negun colp no i a agut, Capela et mongue barbut, E lauzengier bee esmolut.
"These vex me greatly, if I may say so, language when it is base servility, and a man who wishes too high a place (at table) and a charger which is put to drawing carts. And, by my hope of salvation, I am vexed by a young man who bears too openly a shield which has never received a blow, by a chaplain and monk wearing beards and by the sharp beak of the slanderer." The monk's satire upon other troubadours is stated by himself to be a continuation of that by Peire d'Auvergne; the criticism is, as might be expected, personal. Two _tensos_ deal with the vanities of women, especially the habit of painting the face: in one of them the dispute proceeds before G.o.d as judge, between the poet and the women: the scene of the other is laid in Paradise and the interlocutors are the Almighty and the poet, who, represents that self-adornment is a habit inherent in female nature. In neither poem is reverence a [71]
prominent feature.
One of the most extraordinary figures in the whole gallery of troubadour portraits is Peire Vidal, whose career extended, roughly speaking, from 1175 to 1215. He was one of those characters who naturally become the nucleus of apocryphal stories, and how much truth there may be in some of the fantastic incidents, in which he figures as the hero, will probably never be discovered. He was undoubtedly an attractive character, for he enjoyed the favour of the most distinguished men and women of his time. He was also a poet of real power: ease and facility are characteristics of his poems as compared with the ingenious obscurity of Arnaut Daniel or Peire d'Auvergne. But there was a whimsical and fantastic strain in his character, which led him often to conjoin the functions of court-fool with those of court poet: "he was the most foolish man in the world" says his biographer. His "foolishness" also induced him to fall in love with every woman he met, and to believe that his personal attractions made him invincible.
Peire Vidal was the son of a Toulouse merchant. He began his troubadour wanderings early and at the outset of his career we find him in Catalonia, Aragon and Castile. He is then found in the service of Raimon Gaufridi Barral,[24] Viscount of Ma.r.s.eilles, a bluff, genial tournament [72]
warrior and the husband of Azalais de Porcellet whose praises were sung by Folquet of Ma.r.s.eilles. It was Barral who was attracted by Peire's peculiar talents: his wife seems to have tolerated the troubadour from deference to her husband. Peire, however, says in one of his poems that husbands feared him more than fire or sword, and believing himself irresistible interpreted Azalais' favours as seriously meant. When he stole a kiss from her as she slept, she insisted upon Peire's departure, though her husband seems to have regarded the matter as a jest and the troubadour took refuge in Genoa. Eventually, Azalais pardoned him and he was able to return to Ma.r.s.eilles. Peire is said to have followed Richard Coeur de Lion on his crusade; it was in 1190 that Richard embarked at Ma.r.s.eilles for the Holy Land, and as a patron of troubadours, he was no doubt personally acquainted with Peire. The troubadour, however, is said to have gone no farther than Cyprus. There he married a Greek woman and was somehow persuaded that his wife was a daughter of the Emperor of Constantinople, and that he, therefore, had a claim to the throne of Greece. He a.s.sumed royal state, added a throne to his personal possessions and began to raise a fleet for the conquest of his kingdom.
How long this farce continued is unknown. Barral died in 1192 and Peire transferred his affections to a lady of Carca.s.sonne, Loba de Pennautier. [73]
The biography relates that her name Loba (wolf) induced the troubadour to approach her in a wolf's skin, which disguise was so successful that he was attacked by a pack of dogs and seriously mauled. Probably the story that an outraged husband had the troubadour's tongue cut out at an earlier period of his life contains an equal substratum of truth. The last period of his career was spent in Hungary and Lombardy. His political _sirventes_ show an insight into the affairs of his age, which is in strong contrast to the whimsicality which seems to have misguided his own life.
Guillem de Cabestanh (between 1181 and 1196) deserves mention for the story which the Provencal biography has attached to his name, a Provencal variation of the thirteenth century romance of the _Chatelaine de Coucy_.[25] He belonged to the Roussillon district, on the borders of Catalonia and fell in love with the wife of his overlord, Raimon of Roussillon. Margarida or Seremonda, as she is respectively named in the two versions of the story, was attracted by Guillem's songs, with the result that Raimon's jealousy was aroused and meeting the troubadour one day, when he was out hunting, he killed him. The Provencal version proceeds as follows: he then took out the heart and sent it by a squire to the castle. He caused it to be roasted with pepper and gave it to his [74]
wife to eat. And when she had eaten it, her lord told her what it was and she lost the power of sight and hearing. And when she came to herself, she said, "my lord, you have given me such good meat that never will I eat such meat again." He made at her to strike her but she threw herself from the window and was killed. Thereupon the barons of Catalonia and Aragon, led by King Alfonso, are said to have made a combined attack upon Raimon and to have ravaged his lands, in indignation at his barbarity.
The Provencal biography, like the romance of the _Chatelain de Coucy_, belongs to the thirteenth century, and the story cannot be accepted as authentic. But the period of decadence had begun. By the close of the twelfth century the golden age of troubadour poetry was over. Guiraut de Bornelh's complaints that refinement was vanishing and that n.o.bles were growing hard-hearted and avaricious soon became common-places in troubadour poetry. The extravagances of the previous age and the rise of a strong middle and commercial cla.s.s diminished both the wealth and the influence of the n.o.bles, while the peace of the country was further disturbed by theological disputes and by the rise of the Albigeois heresy.
CHAPTER VI [75]
THE ALBIGEOIS CRUSADE
The feudal society in which troubadour poetry had flourished, and by which alone it could be maintained, was already showing signs of decadence. Its downfall was precipitated by the religious and political movement, the Albigeois Crusade, which was the first step towards the unification of France, but which also broke up the local fiefs, destroyed the conditions under which the troubadours had flourished and scattered them abroad in other lands or forced them to seek other means of livelihood. This is not the place to discuss the origin and the nature of the Albigeois heresy.[26] The general opinion has almost invariably considered the heretics as dualists and their belief as a variation of Manicheism: but a plausible case has been made out for regarding the heresy as a variant of the Adoptionism which is found successively in Armenia, in the Balkan peninsula and in Spain, and perhaps sporadically in Italy and Germany. Whatever its real nature was, the following facts are clear: it was not an isolated movement, but was in continuity with beliefs prevalent in many other parts of Europe. It [76]
was largely a poor man's heresy and therefore emerges into the light of history only when it happens to attract aristocratic adherents or large ma.s.ses of people. It was also a pre-Reformation movement and essentially in opposition to Roman Catholicism. Albi was the first head-quarters of the heresy, though Toulouse speedily rivalled its importance in this respect. The Vaudois heresy which became notorious at Lyons about the same time was a schismatic, not a heretic movement. The Vaudois objected to the profligacy and worldliness of the Roman Catholic clergy, but did not quarrel with church doctrine. The Albigenses were no less zealous than the Vaudois in reproving the church clergy and setting an example of purity and unselfishness of life. But they also differed profoundly from the church in matters of doctrine.
Upon the election of Otho as Emperor, in 1208, Germany and Rome were at peace, and Pope Innocent III. found himself at liberty to devote some attention to affairs in Southern France. He had already made some efforts to oppose the growth of heresy: his first emissaries were unable to produce the least effect and in 1208 he had sent Arnaut of Citeaux and two Cistercian monks into Southern France with full powers to act.
Their efforts proved fruitless, because Philippe Auguste was no less indifferent than the provincial lords, who actually favoured the [77]
heretics in many cases; the Roman Catholic bishops also were jealous of the pope's legates and refused to support them. Not only the laity but many of the clergy had been seduced: the heretics had translated large portions of scripture (translations which still remain to us) and constantly appealed to the scriptures in opposition to the canon laws and the immorality of Rome. They had a full parochial and diocesan organisation and were in regular communication with the heretics of other countries. It was clear that the authority of Southern France was doomed, unless some vigorous steps to a.s.sert her authority were speedily taken. "Ita per omnes terras multiplicati sunt ut grande periculum patiatur ecclesia Dei." [27] The efforts of St Dominic were followed by the murder of the papal legate, Pierre de Castelnau, in 1208, which created an excitement comparable with that aroused by the murder of Thomas a Becket, thirty-eight years before, and gave Innocent III. his opportunity. In the summer of 1209 a great army of crusaders a.s.sembled at Lyons, and Southern France was invaded by a horde composed partly of religious fanatics, of men who were anxious to gain the indulgences awarded to crusaders without the danger of a journey overseas, and of men who were simply bent on plunder. The last stage in the development of the crusade movement was thereby reached: originally begun to recover [78]
the Holy Sepulchre, it had been extended to other countries against the avowed enemies of Christianity. Now the movement was to be turned against erring members of the Christian Church and in the terms of a metaphor much abused at that period, the Crusader was not only to destroy the wolf, but to drive the vagrant sheep back into the fold.[28]
Beziers and Carca.s.sonne were captured with ma.s.sacre; Toulouse was spared upon the humiliating submission of Raimon VI., and little organised opposition was offered to the crusading forces under Simon de Montfort.
The following years saw the revolt of Toulouse and the excommunication of Raimon VI. (1211), the battle of Muret in which Raimon was defeated and his supporter Pedro of Aragon, was killed (1213), the Lateran Council (1215), the siege of Toulouse and the death of Simon de Montfort (1218). The foundation of the Dominican order and of the Inquisition marked the close of the struggle.
Folquet of Ma.r.s.eilles is a troubadour whose life belongs to these years of turmoil. He was the son of a Genoese merchant by name Anfos, who apparently settled in Ma.r.s.eilles for business reasons: Genoa was in close commercial relations with the South of France during the twelfth century, as is attested by treaties concluded with Ma.r.s.eilles in 1138 and with Raimon of Toulouse in 1174. Folquet (or Fulco in Latin form) [79]
seems to have carried on his father's business and to have amused his leisure hours by poetical composition. The Monk of Montandon refers to him as a merchant in his _sirventes_ upon other troubadours. He is placed in Paradise by Dante and is the only troubadour who there appears, no doubt because of his services to the Church. His earliest poems, written after 1180, were composed in honour of Azalais, the lady whose favour was sought by Peire Vidal, and to whom Folquet refers by the _senhal_ of Aimant (magnet). His poems are ingenious dissertations upon love and we catch little trace of real feeling in them. The stories of the jealousy of Azalais' sister which drove Folquet to leave Ma.r.s.eilles are probably apocryphal. Folquet also addressed poems to the wife of the Count of Montpelier, the daughter of the Emperor of Constantinople. He wrote a fine _planh_ on the death of Barral of Ma.r.s.eilles in 1192 and it was about this time that he resolved to enter the church. His last poem belongs to the year 1195. No doubt the wealth which he may have brought to the Church as a successful merchant contributed to his advancement, but Folquet was also an indomitably energetic character.
Unlike so many of his fellow poets, who retired to monasteries and there lived out their lives in seclusion, Folquet displayed special talents or [80]
special enthusiasm for the order which he joined. Of the Cistercian abbey of Toronet in the diocese of Frejus he became abbot, and in 1205 was made Bishop of Toulouse. He then, in company with St Dominic, becomes one of the great figures of the Albigeois crusade: in 1209 he was acting with Simon de Montfort against Raimon VI., the son of his old patron and benefactor, and persuaded the count to surrender the citadel of Toulouse to de Montfort and the papal legate. He travelled in Northern France in order to stir up enthusiasm for the crusade. The legend is related that, hearing one of his love songs sung by a minstrel at Paris, he imposed penance upon himself. He helped to establish the Inquisition in Languedoc, and at the Lateran council of 1215 was the most violent opponent of Count Raimon. To enter into his history in detail during this period would be to recount a large portion of the somewhat intricate history of the crusade. Of his fanaticism, and of the cruelty with which he waged war upon the heretics, the Count Raimon Roger of Foix speaks at the Lateran council, when defending himself against the accusation of heresy.
E die vos de l'avesque, que tant n'es afort.i.tz, qu'en la sua semblansa es Dieus e nos trazitz, que ab cansos messongeiras e ab motz coladitz, dont totz horn es perdutz quils canta ni los ditz, [81]