A Devil of a Man (4) - The Italian Connection

The letter from the papal palace reached the camp early the following morning. It was handed over to  Albert Sterz who was having breakfast with the other captains.

He removed the seal, read the contents and burst into hysterical laughter. John Hawkwood got up from the table, holding a mug of tea, and approached him.

“What's so funny, Bert?”

“Read this, John. Or should I call you Johann? By the way, when did you change your name? It says here that your surname is Scakaik.”

“I didn't change my name, it is these foreign clerks. Even when you spell it they still get it wrong.”

This explanation wasn't actually true: that cognomen was an alias he had used when, on his arrival in France at the beginning of the hostilities, he had been asked to do a spot of spying on behalf of the king,

He kept a straight face and his comrade swallowed the lie without further ado. He read Innocent's demands and suggested that the ultimatum should be ignored.

“What's he going to do, raise an army against us?”

That wasn't too far from the truth.

A week had gone by and the Pope had not heard a peep from the villains but he had had the disturbing news that those brigands were still carrying out raids that increased their wealth but depleted his coffers even further.

This situation could not be allowed to continue. He had given them a written warning to dismantle their bivouac and depart peacefully but the miscreants had stayed put, showing a lack of respect.

He had called on the citizens of Pont St. Esprit to undertake a crusade against them but, having already received a bloody nose from the Great Company, it was no surprise that they all played dumb.

Incensed by the lack of response, the only weapon left to him was the excommunication of Hawkwood, Sterz, Munard, et al.

Even this was met with a resounding raspberry.

***

“ Have you heard the latest, Johann?” asked Albert Sterz with a guffaw.
“No, Bert, what's up?”
“We have been excommunicated.”
“Who says?”
“Him, the big chief in Avignon.”
“Is he going to put us in the stocks?”
“Nah.”
“That's right, then.”
They sounded more like two Essex men having banter in the White Lion in Sible Hedingham than a German and an Englishman in a French encampment. They both mimicked each other's accents.

***

A more serious conversation was taking place back home in Hugh Fletcher's tavern.

The chroniclers were closely observing and reporting on what was happening abroad. News of the riotous behaviour of the motley crew of mercenaries of various nationalities in the south of France had reached Hugh's ears.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked his friend Robert Miller, who kept abreast of the latest developments and punctually, each week, would pop in for a pint and to update his old comrade.

“Not if you are worried about his physical safety. He's big enough and tough enough to look after himself, but he's acquiring a bad reputation. Although loyal and fair to his acolytes, he has no regard for the common men whose possessions he takes without so much as a by your leave.”

“Oh dear, and to think that he once was an altar boy.”

“Probably misunderstood the meaning of acolyte.” chuckled Robert Miller.
But the pun was lost on Hugh, who looked bewildered.

The veteran was sorry to have brought bad news to his friend  and tried to assuage the taverner's hurt feelings by saying:

“Look at it this way, mate, what else could those poor unemployed soldiers, and your John, do to scratch a living?”

Yet he knew that his word only scratched the surface of the problem.
A more serious conversation was taking place back home in Hugh Fletcher's tavern.

The chroniclers were closely observing and reporting on what was happening abroad. News of the riotous behaviour of the motley crew of mercenaries of various nationalities in the south of France had reached Hugh's ears.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked his friend Robert Miller, who kept abreast of the latest developments and punctually, each week, would pop in for a pint and to update his old comrade.

“Not if you are worried about his physical safety. He's big enough and tough enough to look after himself, but he's acquiring a bad reputation. Although loyal and fair to his acolytes, he has no regard for the common men whose possessions he takes without so much as a by your leave.”

“Oh dear, and to think that he once was an altar boy.”

“Probably misunderstood the meaning of acolyte.” chuckled Robert Miller.

But the pun was lost on Hugh, who looked bewildered.

The veteran was sorry to have brought bad news to his friend  and tried to assuage the taverner's hurt feelings by saying:

“Look at it this way, mate, what else could those poor unemployed soldiers, and your John, do to scratch a living?”

Yet he knew that his word only scratched the surface of the problem.

***

Even though he was a Frenchman and proud of his nationality, it was Innocent the Sixth's ambition to leave Avignon and restore the Throne of Saint Peter to his original site in Rome. Not because the move added more prestige to the incumbent of the papal residence but because the political situation in Italy required it.

First of all, Rome was grumbling that due to nepotism, the last five pontifices had been French. When were they going to have one of their own? 

To complicate matters, during the Avignon papacy, local autocrats, taking advantage of the absence of the popes, took the papal role of vicars of the Church in Bologna, Forli, Faenza and Rimini.
And fleeced their congregations.

Like the states of Milan, Venice, Genoa, Florence and Pisa,  the Papal State in Italy was secular but unlike the others there was also a spiritual side to it.

As a secular state, it was losing ground vis-a-vis the others, all vying for supremacy. Re-establishing a permanent papacy in the Eternal City would give the Church the upper hand.

Pope Innocent had not had much luck in Avignon: his funds were dwindling due to the recovery from the plague which made draining demands on his purse and for the never-ending presence of the mercenaries whose plundering had a deleterious effect on his income.

Surely, sooner or later, his endeavours would be rewarded and the omens were good when he hit on the idea that what he needed was an Italian connection to help him achieve his aims of getting rid of the anarchic nobility that dominated Rome, the Orsini and Colonna families, and restoring the papal authority.

The name of this person was Cola di Renzo, an idealist politician who advocated the Italian Unification and the abolition of the Pope's temporal power.

He had offended the Holy Roman Emperor; Pope Clement V - the predecessor of the current one - who accused him of heresy; cleared by the Inquisition and yet tried and found guilty by cardinals and imprisoned.

Pope Innocent saw him as the perfect tool to carry out his plans; pardoned and freed him.

Made a Senator and sent to Italy by the pontiff, things seemed to go rather well when the unexpected happened: the poor sap got murdered in a riot.

Pope Innocent's bad luck continued.

 

 

© Luigi Pagano 2024