The Normans: From Raiders to Kings

by Lars Brownworth

  Ibn Hamud gratefully had himself baptized and was offered extensive estates of his own choosing. He selected Calabria, far away from his old center of power where any revolt would make him look guilty of sedition, and was enrolled as part of the nobility. The irregularities of his past life were discreetly overlooked (he was married to his cousin) and he lived out his life in peace without incident, a perfectly respectable member of the minor aristocracy.

  Roger lived for thirteen more years, streamlining his government, and extending his influence to the Italian peninsula. For the most part he concentrated on increasing the prosperity of his subjects and refused to be drawn into any larger struggles.40 When the call came for the First Crusade he was virtually the only great prince who didn’t respond. Heavily outnumbered by Muslims in his own territory and dependent on trade with North Africa for wealth, the last thing he wanted was a religious war. He remained officially neutral and pressured his Muslim trading partners to be neutral as well, which turned out to be a sound economic policy. By the turn of the century Sicily was more stable, prosperous, and secure than it had ever been. Trade flourished, and the arts were blossoming. Thanks to the Crusading movement the trade of Europe and the Levant flowed through the markets of Palermo and Messina, greatly enriching all involved.

  Roger’s only regret was that his beloved Judith wasn’t around to enjoy it with him. She had died in 1080 after presenting her husband with four daughters. A second marriage had produced three more girls along with two sons, before the second wife died as well. Roger was now in his sixties and feeling his age. His most pressing concern, as with all responsible rulers, was who would follow him.

  The two legitimate sons clearly wouldn’t. The first didn’t survive childhood and the second had leprosy. There was an illegitimate son named Jordan who had proved to be a dashing commander in several of his father’s campaigns, but he died of a fever in 1092. That year Roger married for the third time, and his new wife Adelaide41 safely delivered two sons. The oldest was named Simon, and the younger Roger after his happy father, who could now rest assured that his name would be continued. Six years later Roger expired peacefully in his bed, having ruled wisely and well. His military victories had been legendary, but it was his administration that had been truly brilliant. He was that most rare leader, one who not only knew how to conquer, but more importantly how to rule. He had been only twenty-six when he entered Sicily, a young, ambitious knight seeking his fortune, and forty-four years later he had expired as the great statesman of the Mediterranean. His genius as an administrator is still remembered fondly by Sicilians today who gave him the nickname ‘The Great Count’.

  Roger’s final gift for Sicily was only apparent after he was gone. Strong rulers can leave uncertainty and disorder in their wake, but Roger had devoted his life to good government and it continued without him. His younger son and eventual successor, Roger II, was only five years old at his death, and although long minorities often lead to chaos, he ascended twelve years later without opposition to a calm and stable kingdom. Few rulers have left a finer legacy.

  Chapter 13

  Rogerios Rex

  The stability of the Sicilian government immediately after Count Roger died was surprising partially because the Hautevilles were unusually prolific. In addition to his sons Roger had had at least twelve daughters, which meant a dozen son-in-laws potentially fighting over the succession. It would not have been difficult to wrest control from either of Roger’s sons. The older one, Simon, was only eight when his father died, and although he was dutifully proclaimed Count of Sicily and Calabria, real power was held by his mother, Adelaide.

  To an outsider looking in, this was a disaster waiting to happen. Adelaide was completely alienated from the people she ruled. She was from the north of Italy – vastly different from these southerners – struggled with Latin, spoke only a touch of French, and had no Arabic or Greek at all. To her, the Norman barons must have seemed almost as alien as the Sicilians, forever quarreling and only cowed by a more dominant personality. For anyone to impose their will, much less a foreign woman, must have seemed a hopeless task.

  But somehow, Adelaide was able to do it. Not merely to hold her own, although that would have been accomplishment enough, but to provide a stable and peaceful regency for her sons. The surviving accounts gloss over her methods, but Adelaide deserves to be remembered as one of the unsung heroes of Norman Sicily.

  Her tenure wasn’t without its challenges. Young Simon died after only four years and Adelaide took the most important step of her regency by moving the government from Messina to the great trading city of Palermo. There she had the ten-year-old Roger II knighted, and raised him among a mix of Italian, Arab, Greek, and Lombard courtiers. The change could be seen throughout the rest of young Roger’s life. The men who had created his world – Count Roger, Robert Guiscard, and William Iron-Arm – had been Norman through and through. Roger II, growing up without a father in the most cosmopolitan city in Western Europe was something new: a Sicilian.

  When he turned sixteen, his mother decided that he had come of age. The economy was booming thanks to the success of the First Crusade and the immense volume of trade that now flooded through Sicilian markets. There seemed little point in holding Roger back; she had raised him to be a leader and it was time to step aside. But she was also motivated by new plans of her own. Baldwin, the king of Jerusalem, had recently put aside his wife and was actively courting Adelaide (or more accurately the money and soldiers she would bring with her). In the spring of that year he had sent emissaries to Palermo and rashly told them to agree to any demands she might have. As expected, she drove a hard bargain. Baldwin was childless and Adelaide, as always looking after the interests of her son, stipulated that if it remained that way Roger II would inherit Jerusalem on her death. With great pomp befitting a woman of her station, she boarded a ship for the Levant and a new age for Sicily began.

  Roger II was wealthy and secure, but like any of his ambitious ancestors he wanted to turn that money into military strength. The most practical way of doing this on an island was to build up a navy and he was fortunate to have a gifted civil servant at his disposal. The man’s name was Christodulus, and Roger, recognizing his abilities, created a new title to reflect his status as the highest member of the navy. He Latinized the Arab word ‘emir’ to ‘ammiratus’, and created the first admiral in history.

  Christodulus didn’t disappoint. He produced a well-trained navy that was easily the finest in the western Mediterranean. Roger II just needed an excuse to use it and one was helpfully provided almost immediately. The city of Mahdia in North Africa had been a major trading partner for Sicilian ports from the days when the Arabs controlled the island, and the resulting wealth had allowed it to control much of the surrounding coast. This dominance had earned Mahdia plenty of enemies and when one of them was given a friendly audience in Palermo, the Emir of Mahdia responded by raiding Roger’s territory in Calabria. Even by the standards of the time the brutality was unexpected. The town of Nicotera was wiped off the map. Its women were raped, its men and children were slaughtered, and everything of value that wasn’t nailed down was carried off to the waiting ships. As a final warning the entire town was then burned to the ground.

  This was more than just a simple raid; it struck at the heart of medieval authority. The loyalty of a people to their lord was directly proportionate to his ability to protect them. To leave the strike unavenged for too long was to risk a serious erosion of his power. There was also a threat from his barons. None would confront him directly, but they would be happy to exploit the disaster for their own ends. If the people of Calabria didn’t feel protected by Palermo they would switch their allegiance to one of the closer nobility. Christodulus was ordered to sail for Mahdia at once.

  The situation in North Africa looked increasingly promising every day. The Emir of Mahdia died and although his fourteen-year-old son managed to hang on to the city, the region dissolved into chaos as
petty strongmen tried to settle old scores and seize control. As Christodulus approached, not a single Saracen ship appeared to contest the landing. Just as it appeared that the Normans would have an easy victory, however, their luck deserted them. A violent storm drove them ten miles off course, forcing them to seek shelter on some sandy islands off the coast. The next morning Christodulus left to scout out the strength of Mahdia’s defenses and while he was gone a Muslim force discovered his camp and sacked it. The dispirited Normans tried to salvage the situation by seizing a castle on the coast but instead of cowing the Mahdians it had the opposite effect. The squabbling North Africans now had a common enemy, and when the young emir declared a jihad they all responded. Most of the Normans managed to make it back to their ships, but those that were left behind were slaughtered to a man. Christodulus had no choice; he cut his losses and headed back to Palermo, but even then his tribulations weren’t over. On the voyage home another storm hit and barely a third of those who had set out managed to return home.

  Roger’s first youthful flexing of power had been painfully rebuffed, and the loss of prestige that he suffered was enormous. Not only had he refused to lead the raid in person, which was enough to raise eyebrows among the barons of his father’s generation, but his vaunted navy had been bested by a fourteen-year-old. There was immediate pressure to find a scapegoat and Christodulus was a natural one, but to his credit Roger refused. There were no reprisals or purges. He would never forget the humiliation, but he was a patient man. Revenge would come, but it would arrive at a time of Roger’s choosing and not a moment before.

  In the meantime there were more promising opportunities in Italy. The entire south was in chaos. Roger’s formidable uncle Guiscard had ruled with an iron hand, but his son Roger Borsa had been too weak to impose his will on the stubborn barons. When Borsa had died, he had been followed in turn by his even less competent son William. By 1121, Calabria was completely lawless and William, who was chronically short of money, had little authority beyond the walls of his own castle. Roger wasn’t above a little opportunistic grabbing and he invited his cousin to a lavish banquet. After casually displaying his wealth with an impressive feast, Roger dangled the prospect of financial aid in return for being named heir to William’s territory. This was eagerly agreed to and Roger withdrew to Palermo to wait out events.

  In the meantime he turned his attention to Malta. His father had invaded the island and forced its Arab masters to pay tribute, but Roger wasn’t comfortable having an area so close to Sicily under Muslim control. In 1127 he sent his refurbished navy to end the threat once and for all. This time the naval operation was commanded by a young Byzantine, George of Antioch.

  As a teenager, George had left Asia Minor and moved to North Africa where he gained employment with the Muslim rulers of Mahdia. He fell out of favor with the emir’s son and decided to defect to Sicily on the eve of the Norman invasion. To make good his escape he waited until the Arabs were at their Friday prayers, then disguised himself as a sailor and managed to slip aboard a merchant ship. When he arrived in Palermo he marched up to the palace and asked for a job. His boldness paid off. Roger, always a good judge of character, saw immediately the usefulness of a man who was an expert in both the language and politics of North Africa. He was appointed as Christodulus’s second-in-command and in the years after the Mahdia expedition he increasingly outshone his superior.

  The expedition to Malta was carried off flawlessly, a foretaste of the triumphs that lay in store. The Muslims were expelled and the island was added to Roger’s growing domain. George’s return to Palermo was greeted with celebration, and even better news followed on its heels. In Calabria, Roger’s cousin William had suddenly died and, as promised, Roger stood to inherit his lands.

  The trouble was that William, like many weak rulers before him, had made the same promise to a number of people – including the pope. The only point everyone could agree on was that Roger shouldn’t get a thing. The idea of a single figure controlling all of southern Italy and Sicily was the stuff of papal nightmares and the Norman barons of Italy had no desire to exchange the freedoms to which they had grown accustomed for a strong central authority. Roger had to act quickly before his enemies had a chance to organize themselves.

  To start the offensive he sent George of Antioch to seize the port of Salerno. The city was ready for him and had the gates shut tight, so the admiral sailed his fleet back and forth in full view of the walls for ten days. The silent procession unnerved the defenders. The last time Salerno had resisted a Norman it had been Guiscard at the walls, and he had shown no mercy when he finally managed to enter. The Salernians weren’t ready to tempt fate again. Figuring it was better to come to terms with a determined Hauteville while he was still in the mood to make an offer, they surrendered.

  Guiscard probably would still have executed a few leading citizens for daring to hold out ten days, but when it came to war, Roger was more Byzantine than Norman. Diplomatic victories were the kind he liked best; they left his army completely intact and didn’t wreck the governmental machinery of the conquered place. After installing a small garrison, Roger hurried inland to capture Benevento. When he arrived he was pleasantly surprised to find his chief rival the pope with only a small retinue. Leaving a besieging force to keep him occupied, Roger took his army on a leisurely tour of southern Italy, mopping up all resistance. Like Salerno, this was largely a bloodless campaign. The rebellious barons were too fractured to band together and not foolish enough to engage Roger alone. Some of them made a show of resistance but inevitably they all cut their losses and swore to accept Roger as their feudal lord.

  The only holdout now was the pope, and although he was too independent to give up so easily, he couldn’t do much mischief while cooped up in Benevento. So Roger, who never liked to be gone from Palermo for too long, returned to his capital well satisfied with his work.

  Victory celebrations, however, were premature. The moment Roger’s army departed, the barons had second thoughts about their oaths, and the pope, who had managed to escape from Benevento, found it easy to rally them into an immense anti-Sicilian league. Just two months after the nobility of southern Italy had pledged oaths of fealty to Roger, they were down on one knee again promising not to rest until all of Roger’s agents were thrown out of the peninsula.

  Despite the obvious danger, Roger acted with deliberate calmness, taking time to gather his army and make his way through the heel of Italy where his support was strongest. His wealth gave him a great advantage. Unlike his opponents he could afford to keep a large army in the field almost indefinitely. But his greatest weapon was time. He knew that if he was patient enough to not force a major battle, the hot sun and restless nature of feudal42 levies would do the rest.

  The pope, meanwhile, was beginning to discover that his allies were impossible to control. The independent streak that had led them to revolt also made them incapable of working together, and they were constantly threatening to withdraw from the league. Each day that passed without action the grand papal army disintegrated a little more.

  As the weeks dragged by Roger refused to deviate from this tactic. Even when the two armies ran into each other – the vanguard of the papal army stumbled into the Norman line while it was crossing a river – Roger merely withdrew to higher ground and waited. For the entire month of July both sides stared at each other as the summer sun beat down. Tempers flared as the feudal levies, who had no use for sitting around, grumbled and the barons started quarreling about what their next move should be. By August, with his army shrinking, the pope was having second thoughts. This alliance was too unstable and exhausting to maintain, and in any case Roger, whose own camp looked depressingly disciplined and orderly, was too powerful to crush. Perhaps the better strategy would be to embrace the Normans. A strong ruler was a potential threat that every pope since William Iron-Arm’s day had tried to avoid in southern Italy, but the peninsula needed peace, and the danger of an over-mighty ruler
was preferable to the current chaos. Besides, these stubborn barons were impossible – let them be Roger’s problem.

  The pope withdrew and sent a messenger to the Norman camp saying that he was willing to officially recognize Roger’s claims to southern Italy. Without their papal sponsor holding them together the rebellious barons melted away, and the levies dissolved. Roger had managed to defeat his enemies without engaging in a single pitched battle.

  The pope’s one attempt to salvage his dignity was to insist that the ceremony formally investing Roger with his cousin’s territory not be held on papal territory. So, on the evening of August 22, 1128 he met Count Roger on a bridge outside of Benevento. In the presence of twenty thousand spectators, each carrying a torch, he elevated him to Duke of Apulia, Calabria, and Sicily.

  The Norman barons present, as the pope had suspected, were not impressed with their new feudal lord. No one doubted Roger’s intelligence – his recent campaign was proof enough of that – but he had shown a reluctance to fight that didn’t sit well with the warlike Normans. Waiting for an enemy to fall apart seemed somehow cowardly; Norman respect was won on the battlefield.

  By nature these men hated central authority. They would bow down to Roger’s armies, but the moment he was gone they would rise up again in revolt. Even the formidable Guiscard had never really managed to change that. Almost as if to prove that point, even as Roger was receiving his new title another revolt was already underway.

  It took a year to put down in a mostly bloodless campaign. Roger picked off the barons one by one, taking his time to make sure that the country was pacified before moving on. When the last one had surrendered, he surprised them all by offering generous pardons, and called a vast assembly of all the nobles and clergy of southern Italy and Sicily. He had thought long and hard about how to solve the structural instability of the Norman lands, how to break the feuding tribal society that had evolved over the last century, and had come up with an ingenious combination of propaganda and law to wield the patchwork of territories into a single state.