Their division of South Italy among them especially, and their defeat
of Venice, had alarmed everybody considerably,--especially the Pope,
Leo IX., who did not understand this manifestation of their piety. He
sent to Henry III. of Germany, to whom he owed his Popedom, for some
German knights, and got five hundred spears; gathered out of all
Apulia, Campania, and the March of Ancona, what Greek and Latin troops
were to be had, to join his own army of the patrimony of St. Peter;
and the holy Pontiff, with this numerous army, but no general, began
the campaign by a pilgrimage with all his troops to Monte Cassino, in
order to obtain, if it might be, St. Benedict for general.

Against the Pope's collected masses, with St. Benedict, their
contemplative but at first inactive general, stood the little army of
Normans,--certainly not more than the third of their number--but with
Robert Guiscard for captain, and under him his brother, Humphrey of
Hauteville, and Richard of Aversa. Not in fear, but in devotion, they
prayed the Pope 'avec instance,'--to say on what conditions they could
appease his anger, and live in peace under him. But the Pope would
hear of nothing but their evacuation of Italy. Whereupon, they had to
settle the question in the Norman manner.

The two armies met in front of Civitella, on Waterloo day, 18th June,
thirteen years, as I said, before the battle of Hastings. The German
knights were the heart of the Pope's army, but they were only five
hundred; the Normans surrounded _them_ first, and slew them, nearly
to a man--and then made extremely short work with the Italians and
Greeks. The Pope, with the wreck of them, fled into Civitella; but the
townspeople dared not defend their walls, and thrust the Pope himself
out of their gates--to meet, alone, the Norman army.