VIII. The New Regime
A map of Italy and its major internal subdivisions c. 950. Major
royal centers are marked as yellow dots.
The Sickness of Lombardy
The illness that beset Italy in this period can be best described as the
localization of power. Previously, all vassals and holders of benefices from the Carolingian kings had been required to give military service. In the anarchy of this period, however, these obligations had become cut off from the king. The kings of the era could not protect the kingdom from invaders and were frequently occupied fighting civil wars; this caused the local people, both commoners and petty noblemen, to turn to local authorities for protection. The commoners and
milites alike pledged themselves to great margraves and dukes, depriving the king of their service. These margraves and dukes, in turn, used their power bases to defend their independence from any royal oversight at all, or to launch their own bids for the throne. Royal weakness and localization thus formed a self-reinforcing cycle, each aggravating the other.
Soon, the only way to rule the kingdom at all was through personal relations. The duty of service to the king had been lost entirely, so only the personal bond between king and vassal could possibly induce the count to do the royal bidding. This, however, put the king in the position of a negotiator, a man with no more power or authority than any of the great margraves. He could only rule by pleasing his vassals, but the things required to please vassals – the cession of land and the granting of privileges and immunities – further weakened the monarchy. Any attempt to claw back these powers and lands or assert too much authority simply induced the magnates to find a new king who would “respect” them by asking nothing of them, or to make a bid for kingship themselves.
Hugh had come to the logical conclusion of this process – if personal relations are the only bonds between king and vassal, then why not further strengthen them by making your vassals your family as well? Unfortunately, even Hugh’s family was not big enough to fill every post, and blood was not always a guarantor of loyalty. So difficult was it to find trustworthy men that Hugh often simply left counties vacant; hardly a single count in the region of Emilia is recorded during his reign.
The clergy of Italy constituted as much of a threat as the lay nobility, if not more so. Their power was to a great extent tied to urbanization, which was always more advanced in Italy than elsewhere in the Latin world. Cities, by their nature, had held out better against the Magyars and Saracens than the ravaged countryside, and it was the bishops who had stepped in as the defenders – and thus rulers – of the cities. In an effort to buy their loyalty, some
reguli – Berengar in particular – had also granted tremendous privileges to the bishops of Lombardy, which they jealously guarded. Later
reguli tended to favor the counts, but power in Lombardy was a zero-sum game, and this inevitably alienated the bishops. It was no accident that both Bavarian invasions, under Hugh and Anscar, had been precipitated by the invitations of bishops. In fact the prelates of Italy was as frequently involved in the deposing and inviting of kings as the lay nobility.
Anscar had done reasonably well because he himself was a great magnate. His own family had greatly benefited from the localization of power by amassing a strong principality in Ivrea. As king, however, he was scarcely more powerful than he had been as margrave; the army he took with him into battle against the Magyars in 947 was principally an Ivrean army, joined by whatever counts and
milites he or his agents could personally convince to join the effort. The last true “Italian army,” in the sense of a force drawn from throughout the kingdom in service of the king, had been raised by Emperor Berengar in 899, only to be smashed to pieces by the Magyars at the Battle of the Brenta. The strength of that army has been estimated at 15,000; almost 50 years later when Anscar rode out against the Magyars, he could muster no more than 5,000.
The Dissolution of the Marches
Alberic, too, was a great magnate; his meteoric career thus far would have been impossible without the profound weakness of the monarchy and the inability of Hugh and Anscar to reduce outlying provinces to obedience. Now, however, he was in command of the same rotten edifice that he had thrived on, and the view from the top was not a pretty sight.
Alberic did have a great advantage over the
reguli that preceded him – he had no magnates to rival him. The great March of Ivrea was on its knees, for the slaughter at Gade had both robbed the clan of its leaders and decimated the ranks of Anscarid loyalists. The Anscarids were now “led” by three boys, the oldest of whom was thirteen.
Shortly after his coronation, Alberic proceeded into the march with his army. Meeting no resistance, he then convened an assembly of the Ivrean lay feudatories at Turin. The counts were called upon to recognize Alberic
himself as the Margrave of Ivrea, on the basis that his wife, Queen Gisela, was the last remaining sibling of King Anscar. Initially, this may have been spun as a “regency,” a temporary measure while his Anscarid nephews were too young to rule. It is clear, however, that Alberic had no intention of letting anyone succeed to the march. He took his three Anscarid nephews into his custody and brought them to Lucca, where they were to remain wards of the royal court.
In effect, Alberic had done to Ivrea what
Otto had done to the Duchy of Franconia in the previous decade. Otto had succeeded his father as king in 936 and shortly thereafter faced a major rebellion by his dukes. Eberhard, the rebellious Duke of Franconia, was killed at the Battle of Andernach in 939, and Otto had declined to appoint anyone in his place. The duchy became a mere geographic entity, consisting of an assemblage of counts and bishops whose actual superior was the king. Alberic had not left Ivrea vacant
per se, but the “personal union” of Ivrea and the Iron Crown accomplished virtually the same thing.
Alberic was not prepared to suppress Friuli as he had done with Ivrea. The march, though massive, was needed as a bulwark against the Magyars (though it had done little to stop them in 947). Its protection was entrusted to Alberic’s cousin, the
senator Crescentius, who had a record of accomplishment in Alberic’s service. Crescentius had fought alongside his cousin at Spoleto (938) and Surrecina (945) and had been the architect of Pope Boso’s demise in the aftermath of Hugh’s downfall. In 10th century Italy he seems to have been that rarest of men, a subordinate who was both competent
and loyal. The only great feudatory to remain apart from Friuli was Spoleto, which had been held by Duke
Constantine, the new king’s brother, since 940 as part of Alberic’s terms with Anscar. For now, he would continue to rule there as
dux et marchio.
The March of Tuscany was simply dissolved. Alberic seems to have rarely used
marchio as a title for the seven years he had ruled in Tuscany, preferring the general title of
princeps Romanorum in all his territories, and abandoned it altogether upon becoming king. Tuscany was now a core part of the royal domain and would no longer constitute a “march” or any kind of autonomous province.
Thus by 948, Alberic had achieved what Hugh had dreamed of and Otto, by 950, would actually accomplish in Germany – a situation in which all great magnates were in fact the immediate kin of the ruler. As long as Crescentius and Constantine remained loyal, there was no plausible rival for power within the kingdom. That did not, however, remove the threat of
outside intervention. As Liutprand observed, “the Italians wish always to serve two masters, in order to restrain one by means of the terror with which the other inspires him.” Now for the first time in sixty years there was only one master in Italy, and this could only mean that any counts or bishops who became unsatisfied with this new order would look for new masters elsewhere.
Alberic’s Policy in Lombardy
Alberic could make no sweeping changes in Lombardy. While the nobility for the moment was still shocked into quiescence by the aftermath of the Battle of Gade and two months of savage plundering, they were not about to surrender themselves wholly to the new king. Alberic had come to the fore with a certain expectation that he would be a caretaker of the Anscarid legacy; he claimed the throne by his relation to Anscar, and had taken Anscar’s march as his own and Anscar’s son and nephews as his wards. It was expected that he would stay the course of Anscar, which had been to do very little - Anscar was far too busy defending his crown to remake his kingdom. He had at least resisted the pressures of the counts to recognize hereditary succession, which existed
de facto in much of the country but was not a legal principle the kings of Italy had ever admitted.
Anscar, like Hugh, tended to favor the counts of Lombardy over the bishops, which goes a long way towards explaining why it was the bishops who constituted most of the key allies to Duke Berthold in 945. Had Anscar's rule lasted longer, they may have succeeded in bringing him down, but the Magyars accomplished this first.
Alberic attempted to maintain an unsatisfying status quo in central Lombardy. There was, in truth, little he could accomplish there – he could not simply root out the nobility, nor could he try to curb the power of the bishops or revoke their costly privileges. Either path would certainly cause them to find a new foreign protector. Alberic was militarily weak and probably fearful of the intervention of Germany, whose king Otto was just now reaching the apex of his considerable power. Appeasement was the only reasonable policy.
The situation was more congenial in Ivrea, where the Battle of Gade had the salutary effect of clearing out much of the pre-existing nobility of the country. Emperor Hugh had taken advantage of the same situation after the Battle of Florentiola, which had eliminated many of the Frankish nobility in the service of Emperor Berengar. Indeed practically every king of Italy, beginning with Charlemagne himself, had flooded the nobility of Italy with his own countrymen upon his arrival. So “foreign” was the character of the Italian nobility that Liutprand complained that by the time of Hugh’s deposition “it was impossible to find an Italian [nobleman] who had not been either driven out or deprived of all his dignities.”
Following in their footsteps, Alberic began immediately to import his own crowd of nobles, mainly into Ivrea. Certainly many of the “new men” were Romans; this is attested not only by chronicles, but by onomastic evidence. Charters begin to appear in Lombardy of the 950s with such comital names as
Theodorus,
Gregorius,
Egidius,
Marinus, and others which were previously unheard of among the nobility of 9th and 10th century Lombardy. Also extremely common are Romanized Lombard names like
Paldus (Pandulf),
Tebaldus (Teobald), and
Transamundus (Trasimund), who are likely to have been transplants from Tuscany and Spoleto.
Alberic no doubt hoped that these “indigenous counts” – the phrase,
comites indigeni, is used approvingly by Liutprand – would be more loyal. Some certainly were, like Count
Boniface of Como, an
affinis (distant relation) of Alberic who would very shortly prove his worth. But the new men could not be stopped from integrating themselves into the existing milieu, chiefly by intermarrying and allying with the Frankish and Burgundinian aristocracy. They were, after all, still noblemen, and noblemen were then as ever inclined to look after the interests of their own houses first.
Alberic’s Policy in Tuscany
With his power greatly limited in Lombardy, Alberic relied heavily on Tuscany, which would remain his greatest source of strength during his rule.
Tuscany had been mercifully spared from most of the Magyar ravages, and Saracen piracy had generally prioritized other targets (though the port of Luni had been sacked by them in the 9th century). As a result, it had never been heavily encastellated, with the partial exception of the Diocese of Lucca. The bishops in Tuscany were also less dominant in the cities than they were in Lombardy, and had been granted fewer privileges by the margraves. While the government of recent margraves had often been neglectful, they had not been forced to alienate their lands nearly as much as the kings of Italy, and the public lands in the march were still very extensive.
Tuscany was also rich. The greater Arno valley region was full of rich farmland, sheep-covered uplands, and prosperous and growing cities like Pisa, Lucca, Pistoia, Prato, and Florence. Pisa, though it had not yet risen to the level of southern trading ports like Naples or Amalfi, already boasted a tradition of commerce and a civic fleet that had been strong enough in the 9th century to take a major part in imperial operations as far afield as Tunisia.
Margrave Hubert had held out in the Tuscan Apennines for some time after Hugh’s deposition, and Alberic had used this as an opportunity to root out not only his supporters, but many other Frankish and Burgundinian counts whose only crimes may have been that they did not have Alberic’s trust. Some bishops had also been strong supporters of Hubert, and Alberic deposed them with papal backing. The result was that by the end of hostilities in 954, the march was firmly in Alberic’s hands and his public lands there were larger than they had ever been.
Alberic took a particular interest in Tuscany's cities. Alberic asserted various rights concerning tolls, mints, and tax duties in the cities, some of which had to be wrested from the bishops. To manage these revenues, he appointed
castaldi – the word is a variant of the old Lombard term
gastald, which in its original sense meant a paid official who managed royal properties. Alberic’s
castaldi were similar, but exclusively urban. Though initially created as little more than tax collectors, they soon acquired military powers as well, becoming responsible for organizing the city’s militia and the maintenance of its walls. These officials were in Alberic’s reign sometimes also titled
iudex, another throwback to Lombard tradition and an acknowledgement of the judicial powers they were required to have in order to actually defend the king’s pecuniary interests.
The Sodales
The partially-emptied lowlands of the Arno plain became the foundation of Alberic’s “royal” army. To create and maintain a new fighting force, this land was parceled out to new
milites (knights), in a manner not dissimilar to Carolingian
milites elsewhere. The feudalism of the late Carolingian world, however, had been implemented only imperfectly in Italy. In Rome and the southern Lombard states, the fief as a concept was nonexistent. Alberic had been familiarized with the post-Carolingian system as a magnate of Italy, and had even given himself in homage to Hugh in the classically Frankish ceremony of the taking of hands after Hugh’s siege of Rome in 938. He was, however, still an outsider to that system, and Tuscany became the cradle of a Roman variant of the post-Carolingian system.
The Roman nobility was dependent not so much on landed estates but rather on the largesse and power of the church, the star around which everything in Rome orbited. It was no accident that Theophylact counted
sacri palatii vestararius, Treasurer of the Sacred (i.e. Papal) Palace, as one of his principal titles, so much so that his wife Theodora assumed the unheard-of title
serenissima vestaratrix (“Most Serene Treasuress”). Thus Roman noble families of prominence took on a distinctly bureaucratic character – lay offices of the Church might be passed from father to son when a family was strong enough to ensure it, but they were not by their nature heritable. Roman families also had an
urban character, for the only way to gain profitable offices and remain engaged with the politics of Rome and the church was to actually live in the city. The Counts of Tusculum had ruled from Rome, not Tusculum itself.
Alberic had no interest in filling Tuscany with castles, which had made Lombardy nearly ungovernable. Instead, he applied Roman traditions to the new
milites – they would reside not in countryside estates, but in the major cities and towns, where royal authority was strong. This, of course, meant that the
miles was not always able to personally supervise his land as much as might be desirable, so it soon became common practice for the
milites to entrust these day-to-day duties to a steward of common rank. This, in turn, freed them not only to dwell in the cities, but in theory to go wherever they might be required, which Alberic took advantage of to require that the
milites – or at least a rotating subset of them – travel with the itinerant royal court as it moved between Lucca, Rome, Pavia, Mantua, and other locations in Lombardy.
Likely because of this habit, by the 960s these men were frequently referred to as
milites sodalium, or in time simply
sodales (from the Latin
sodalis, meaning a follower or companion). The term may also have come from southern Lombard usage, where
sodalis referred usually to a paid soldier. The first of these grants seem to have been established around 945 to 946, after the pacification of Tuscany and possibly as a reaction to the poor performance of Alberic’s infantry forces at Surrecina.
Although the
sodales were mainly a Tuscan phenomenon, equivalent grants were also made later on in smaller numbers in Emilia, which had before 940 been part of the Tuscan march and had many vacant counties. Grants were also eventually established in Tuscia, the northern part of Latium bordering on Tuscany. Elsewhere, however, the propagation of the system was both difficult and undesirable; in the absence of strong royal authority, the
sodales were preserved best in their original role when they were close at hand, residing in cities ruled directly by Alberic’s administrators under close royal supervision.
The
milites sodalium did not represent a perfect solution to the military conundrum, and were not uniquely immune to the issues that beset vassal relations and state institutions all over the post-Carolingian world. Problems would become more evident during the reign of Octavian, who complained that city living made the men “soft.” It was indeed true that the
sodales integrated with urban society as the cities grew in wealth and power, eventually intermarrying with prominent burghers, becoming involved in urban politics, and even entering business. In the reign of Alberic, however, when the men were newly established, it was an expedient way of producing a moderately effective force of cavalrymen that depended directly on the monarch.
Alberic’s Policy Elsewhere
Reforms in Latium were minimal compared to those in Tuscany. The Roman nobility was well-established there, unlike the nobles of Tuscany who had been in large part dislocated. Some parts of Tuscia (northern Latium) were eventually included within the range of
sodales grants, but most of the Roman hinterland was ruled by the traditional Roman noble families, the great monasteries, or the large estates of surburbican bishops.
The main innovation in Rome itself was the theft of the office of
praefectus urbi from the Pope. The title of “urban prefect” was ancient in its lineage, and in previous centuries it had been irregularly used to denote a papal official in charge of managing Rome itself. The position had been eroded by the rise of the
vestararii beginning with Theophylact. Alberic reinvented it as a title for his viceroy in Rome, who would from that point forward report to the king in his capacity as
sacri palatii vestararius. Crescentius may have held this position
de facto before being moved to Friuli, but the first true holder was one
Demetrius, described as a
cognatus (kinsman) of Alberic.
[1] It does not seem to have been an easy post; the prefect was required to be the enforcer of the king’s law over the restive Roman populace, the mediator of feuds between the equally hot-blooded Roman noble families, and the pope’s minder, in addition to the usual duties of a
castaldus to collect revenues, organize the militia, and maintain the walls (which in Rome was a massive task in itself).
As the
milites sodalium continued to develop in Tuscany, Alberic gradually seems to have depended less and less on the Roman nobility that had once provided him with the core of his forces. He preferred the services of the “new men” whom he had personally raised to prominence from obscurity; Roman families, in contrast, claimed ancient consuls and even emperors in their lineages. Alberic continued to export individual Romans to fill comital and official posts elsewhere in the kingdom, but the Roman aristocracy as a whole was increasingly left to remain in Rome. This change in the status and importance of the Roman nobility would eventually cause serious unrest.
Sources for governance in Spoleto and Romagna are rare in this period, but in both provinces the cities had not been so effectively conquered by the bishops as in Lombardy, and the noblemen still retained substantial power. Hugh had made attempts at bringing Romagna proper under his control, while the Pentapolis region in the south had been incorporated into Alberic’s principality starting as early as the late 930s; as far as we know, organizational reform in these provinces under Alberic was not major.
Looking Onwards
Alberic’s reign was quite peaceful at the end of the 940s, giving him some small breathing space to stabilize his position and effect some changes in policy. He was not, however, a magician; the problems of the kingdom which had grown and festered over sixty years could not be undone overnight, or even in a few years. Given the tendency for kings of Italy to lose their kingdom and occasionally their lives, Alberic’s “reforms” were by necessity short-term and pragmatic rather than the expression of long-term plans for the future. In the heart of the kingdom in Lombardy, Alberic was a weak, conciliatory king in the model of his predecessors, who could hope only by appeasement to remain tolerable; where circumstances allowed him to claw back power or create new clients and structures, like in Tuscany and Ivrea, he did so with all deliberate haste.
Speed was important, for the peace of the late 940s would not continue long into the 950s. In that tumultuous decade, Alberic would have to contend with Byzantine interventions to his south, Magyar raids from the east, and the emergence of his neighbor to the north as the dominant figure in Christendom – Otto, King of the Germans.
Next Time:
Alberic and the Germans (for real this time) [A]
Footnotes (In Character)
[1] The relationship of Alberic to Demetrius is unclear. It is known that John, Alberic’s uncle, had a brother named Demetrius, and on this sole piece of evidence historians have tended to assume that the urban prefect of that name was either the very same Demetrius or another member of the same family. This would make the prefect related to Alberic only by marriage and not by blood, unless John’s family shared an ancestor with Theophylact (which is not a terribly remote possibility).
Timeline Notes (Out of Character)
[A] I promised “Alberic and the Germans” would be next in the
last update, but when I got down to writing it I realized that a little more needed to be said about the problems Alberic faced as king and the administrative trajectory of his reign. It turned into a bit of an infodump, unfortunately - I prefer to write narratives - but to me the most critical issue for any timeline involving an independent medieval Italy is to establish just how a plausible path to strength from its abysmal state in the early 10th century could exist. As an aside, it’s really difficult to strike a balance between an effective king and an
unrealistically effective king; real men like Charlemagne and Otto the Great often seem like miracle-workers who we would scoff at were they fictional characters in an alternate history. Every dynasty needs a capable founder, but with Alberic I wanted to try and paint a believable picture of a man who, while highly capable, is also severely limited by the profound infirmity of his kingdom.