by Hitoshi Goto
“But Romulus was supposed to be a male child.”
“That’s right. So why die?”
Suddenly the music playing in the café changed to a pop song. Coffee Rumba by The Peanuts. It had been a big hit four or five years ago.
The Peanuts?
“Oh!” I yelled. Erika stared at me, her eyes wide. “I got it!”
“Got what?”
“What you were just talking about.”
“You mean why Romulus was moved to southern Germany from Guernsey?”
“Yes. But that’s not exactly right.” I was absolutely certain I’d understood it. “Romulus wasn’t just one boy, but twins.”
“With hindsight, it was probably self-evident from the first,” I said, once we’d both recovered some of our composure.
“Why?”
“You know about Romulus in the myth of Rome, don’t you, Miss Hoshino?”
“Yes.”
“Romulus was a descendant of the Trojan hero Aeneas, and the founder of Rome. Normally he is held to be the son of Rhea Silvia, daughter of Numitor, king of Alba Longa, and the god Mars. The important thing is that Romulus had a twin brother called Remus. Thus Hitler’s Romulus was probably a metaphor for there being two brothers. This would explain quite a few of the mysteries. For convenience’s sake, let’s say that the older Romulus was being raised on Guernsey, the younger Romulus in southern Germany. The one who died in the accident in the Hartz mountains en route to boarding the submarine was the younger Romulus. This must have been the secret that Sonnenberger was trying to convey to your father.”
“So where did the older Romulus go? Where was he moved to after Guernsey? There is no reference to that in my father’s Memorandum at all. And why Guernsey in the first place? Surely it would have been safer for him to be raised in Germany like his brother.”
She was right. I wracked my brains for an answer, but none came.
There must be another breakthrough!
“Well, Bormann had clearly taken command of the strategy to protect and cultivate the Romulus brothers. He appointed Ribbentrop to conceal the older brother.”
“Right. But just who was Ribbentrop? The people appointed to important positions in Hitler’s government came from really dubious backgrounds, didn’t they?”
“They did. If the Nazis hadn’t come to power, there’s a strong possibility they would have just ended up as ordinary old neighbourhood grandads. Bormann for sure. Himmler and Dietrich too, probably. It’s all down to Hitler’s singular success. Ribbentrop was a wine merchant, but when the Nazis came to power he rose rapidly in the world. Before he became Foreign Minister, he was Ambassador to Britain. There is talk that he had a love affair with Mrs. Simpson, too.”
“So he could speak fluent English.”
“Well, Britain comes up. Guernsey was part of Britain too… I wonder if that has anything to do with it?” I said, tilting my head. “Your father knew little of Britain, by his own admission. He was well at home in France, so he was probably more like the French in terms of what he felt towards British people.”
“Like what, for example?”
“When Schmidt called Detective Cleary in Guernsey an ‘English detective,’ he had the feeling that Cleary’s expression hardened somewhat, didn’t he?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Your father had apparently forgotten that what he commonly referred to as ‘England’ was actually the United Kingdom made up of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. Do you recall the Irishman called Cleary that was in the Second Memorandum, too?”
“Cleary is a really common surname in Ireland. This Cleary was Irish, too, and Catholic, which means it was quite likely that he had some anti-English sentiment, and that it showed on his face. But your father hadn’t discerned that far.”
“I suppose not.”
“There’s more. That scene in a London pub when some American guy called out to your father and Simon Walker.”
“The one that said, Hey, you guys!?”
“Yes. It’s a typical way to greet someone in American English, but right after that, he dropped a hint about 5 November. Your father apparently didn’t get that, either.”
“Me neither.”
“In Britain, 5 November is the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. This story is famous in England even today.”
After filling her in on the background, I told her, “In American English, the word ‘guy’ is simply a light-hearted, even friendly colloquial expression, but it’s linked to the name Guy Fawkes, ringleader of the plot. Shakespeare lived at the same time as Guy Fawkes. There’s even a theory that Shakespeare was a closet Catholic. Your father strongly suspected that Britain or England was the key to solving this mystery. But that was just a hunch, and it wasn’t as if he had anything to back it up. That’s why he made question number 3,‘Why is English cuisine so bad?’”
Nodding as she listened, she then muttered, “France is Catholic, as is Ireland, but England is Protestant…”
Suddenly a light bulb lit up in my head. “Talking of Catholics, the Archbishop of Canterbury…”
“What?”
“Your mother was parachuted into Canterbury. That’s what he was told, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right. That’s what he wrote in the Memorandum,” she said, flipping through the pages to confirm it.
“The cathedral there is led by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Maybe he assumed that the archbishop denomination meant it was Catholic, without realising that it is actually representative of the protestant Church of England.”
“There’s also that description of how hard it was to find a Catholic church that would marry my parents, so I can understand that.”
“Right. Why does Canterbury have a denomination from Catholicism? The Catholic church versus the Church of England is one of the keys. This is used in the second Memorandum too.”
“In which case, why did he pointedly refer to a Catholic archbishop?”
“There are two possibilities,” I finally managed to say. “First, your father may have simply assumed that the Luftwaffe pilot was referring to a Catholic archbishop.”
“And the second?”
“That the Archbishop of Canterbury is actually a Catholic, not a Protestant.”
As if he’d been waiting for this cue, the café owner came over and handed a book to me.
It was a copy of Shoyo Tsubouchi’s translation of Henry V.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a translation of the book that someone sent to your father.”
“Do you remember what it’s about?” the café owner asked casually.
We were embarrassed to admit that while we’d been talking about Henry V, we couldn’t remember the story. That was quite a failure on our part.
We quickly leafed through it. And then her finger was the first to stop on a certain page.
“What is it? Did you find something?”
“The Archbishop of Canterbury appears in it.”
I too quickly ran my eyes over the passage. And again, and again.
So that’s it!
Erika and I looked at each other.
“I finally got it. I hadn’t understood why your father referred to a Catholic archbishop, which is really disappointing. Even though I was so close,” I said with a big sigh.
“So have you understood?”
“Yes. At least, I’ve understood why your father couldn’t solve the last, biggest mystery,” I answered.
“Why?”
“Because your father had studied in France.”
“I don’t get what you mean,” she said, scowling as if she’d been presented with a Zen riddle.
“He admitted it himself, didn’t he? That he didn’t understand English people.”
“And?”
/> I took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Everything points to Salic Law.”
†
“Please think about the archbishop once again.”
Erika quickly ran her eyes over it again, but it looked as though she really didn’t understand what I was getting at.
Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up and saw the café owner there again. Now he had another book in his hand. I was astonished to note the title, A Detailed Account of European History. Precisely the subject we were about to discuss.
Having confirmed a number of points in the book, I began talking as if I were giving a lecture at the university.
“In the time of Francia, Kingdom of the Franks, a clan of Salian Franks lived in what is now Saxony. In that clan, the women were of loose morals and considered unfit to continue family lines. In the end what was settled was this body of laws, called Lex Salica in Latin.”
“I’ve just remembered. In the Manteuffels’ house there was a book on that subject in the bookcase, wasn’t there? Was that related to Romulus?”
“Well, listen, will you? These laws included a clause that prohibited women from inheriting property due to them being immoral. But this was merely a law of one clan. This legal system itself, which continued up until the ninth century, after which it became obsolete.”
“So it restricted the inheritance of property to men, right? So was it impossible for a woman to rule? That’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair, but that’s the way it was. However, this obsolete legal system made a reappearance in a ridiculous place in European history. Like in the Onin War in Japan during the 15th century, lead by the imperial prince descended from the Southern Dynasty.”
“Um, I don’t get the reference.”
“Sorry. In short, it means suddenly drawing on powers that have long been fossilised. Well let me give a brief explanation by way of background. The history of England and France is closely intertwined. The story goes back to the eleventh century. What you have to take into account is that the founder of England’s dynasty is William the Conqueror.”
“There were kings in England before then, though, weren’t there?”
“Yes, but the they weren’t connected to the bloodline of the royal family that has ruled until now, so in history books the royal family tree begins with the House of Normandy.”
“I see,” Erika said, nodding.
“William I originally came from Normandy in France, so he is called the Conqueror. In France he was the Duke of Normandy. He was followed by William II, Rufus, and Henry I, Beauclerc, then Stephen, and after that Henry I’s daughter, Empress Matilda and Geoffrey of Anjou’s son became Henry II and founded the House of Plantagenet. They all have an important point in common.”
“Which is?”
“They all became King of England, but none of them were English.”
“The Kings of England weren’t English….” she said thoughtfully.
“That’s right. It’s confusing if you think of it like England and France being separate, like they are today. Originally what came into England was a conquering dynasty from Normandy. The Plantagenets had blood from the Count of Anjou, so it is also sometimes called the House of Anjou. Henry II spoke French, but apparently knew no English. English people would probably be offended to hear it, but you could say that essentially the throne of England was a subject of the Duchy of Normandy. Incidentally, I’ve been calling them by their English names, but I wonder what they are in French. I suppose you know?”
Erica nodded. “I suppose they are Guillaume I d’Angleterre, Guillaume II, Henri I, Étienne, then Henri II, son of Mathilde and Geoffroy started the Empire Angevin.”
“Correct.”
“England really became part of France, didn’t it?” Erika said, looking rather taken aback.
“Well then, now that you understand the historical background, let’s go back to Salic Law. That’s said to have reappeared in the 14th century. In fact there are several theories about the timing of the resurgence of Salic Law, but in order to illuminate the circumstantial evidence I’m about to explain, I think this is the most appropriate.”
“The 14th century was the time of Hugh Capet… we didn’t study it at school, but I learned about French history from my mother.”
I drew family trees of the Capetian Dynasty and the Plantagenet Dynasty on a piece of paper. Pointing at it, I explained, “In 1314, Philip IV—Philip the Fair—of the Capetian Dynasty died. He had three sons, so his eldest, Louis, succeeded him and became Louis X. But he died without a son and heir. A son was born to him after his death, but immediately died, so his only direct descendant was Queen Joan II of Navarre. Following me so far?”
“Yes.”
“However, Joan’s mother had been accused of infidelity, and someone who was not Louis X’s son could not inherit the throne. In the end his younger brother Philip V was enthroned. But the fact he was only made king because Joan was an illegitimate child mired the royal family in scandal. They had to find a more persuasive reason why Joan was not acceptable.”
“I get it—the Salic Law.”
“That’s right, very astute of you. Women were banned from the right to succession. No matter that the law was covered in dust as long as it fit the need.”
“Still, it’s intolerable from a woman’s point of view,” Erika said, pouting.
“Indeed it is. What’s more it was originally a law settling land inheritance in Saxony. However, this desperate measure would come back to haunt them. Once they had applied this logic, it meant that France could not produce a queen. Indeed Philip V could justify the noble cause of his own succession, but this would be avenged by history.” Erika tilted her head questioningly, so I continued, “You could say that history is ironic. Neither Philip V or his younger brother Charles IV who succeeded him, were blessed with sons.”
“Serves them right,” Erika said, puffing out her cheeks.
“No doubt. It was the first time since its founder Hugh Capet that there was no male successor from the direct bloodline. And now they couldn’t select a woman. With no other option, it was decided that the closest relative was Philip of Valois, son of Philip IV’s younger brother, who would start the House of Valois as Philip VI.” She nodded, so I went on. “However, at this point, somebody objected.”
“England, right?”
I nodded. “That’s right. It was Edward III of England. His mother was Isabella, daughter of Philip IV. He was a nephew of Charles IV and insisted that he was closer to the direct bloodline of the House of Capet than Philip VI was. There was some truth to this argument. Here it was an issue of whether the grandchild of a monarch’s queen had any right to the succession. In the end, the French decided that even if the grandchild of a queen was a boy, he could not become king and thus avoided the claims of Edward III.”
“Meaning that they broadened the interpretation of Salic Law.”
“Yes. But here an even bigger problem developed. As I said before, the English monarchy had originally started with the House of Normandy when William the Conqueror came over from France. But after that, the House of Plantagenet kings succeeded to the throne through Mathilde, daughter of Henry I from the House of Normandy. Therefore, if you took the French at their word, the legitimacy of the House of Plantagenet itself would be called into question.”
“So it ended up in war?”
“That’s right. This was the start of the Hundred Years’ War between England and France. I think you’ve grasped my explanation up to now, but at first there was no sense of either England or France being nation-states. First, England won land and sea victories. Edward’s son wore black armour and distinguished himself in action as the Black Prince.”
“The Battle of Crécy.”
“That’s right.”
“But for a war to last a hundred years…”
; “Yes, and during that time the upheavals in England’s royal authority continued. After Edward, the succession went to his grandchild, Richard II, but then Henry IV wrested power from him and ruled until he died from an infectious disease, and his eldest son became Henry V.”
“Phew. We’ve finally reached Henry V!” Erika said, letting out a deep breath.
“Henry V was Edward III’s great-grandchild. He sought to restore England’s former glory by strengthening military action in France, but died of dysentery after only nine years on the throne. In the end, France’s military recovered its power. In the war that lasted over a century miring both England and France in internal strife, Charles VII was crowned King of France due to the efforts of Joan of Arc, and the legitimacy of the House of Valois was thus settled. And so Salic Law was established in France. Subsequently, when the House of Valois came to an end, Henry of the old House of Bourbon, which dated back to the House of Capet, became Henry IV of France and established the royal Bourbon family. Meanwhile, in England the bloody War of the Roses started between the Houses of York and Lancaster. Salic Law was never adopted in England, so there continued to be queens.”
“Hold on a minute. It seems you’ve just given me an overview of medieval French history, Professor Tomii. But earlier you said my father hadn’t been able to solve the mystery because he was studying in France.”
“I did. Because your father was thinking in terms of history told from a French perspective.”
“What do you mean?”
“That brings us to Shakespeare. In Act 1 Scene 2 of Henry V, there is a long speech by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Remember, Henry V, as heir of his great-grandfather, and his grandfather’s right to succession to the French royal family asserts his claim to the throne of France. However, the weak point of this claim was that his great-grandfather Edward III’s claim was through direct descent from Queen Isabelle, in other words through the maternal line. This was because in France succession was only accepted through the paternal line, due to Salic Law. Therefore, on this basis he asked the Archbishop of Canterbury to explain the good and bad points of applying this law in France.