Showing posts with label Edward III. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edward III. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 21, 2023

At Sixes and Sevens

In listing the Great Twelve Livery Companies of medieval London in the order of preference given to them, I deliberately skipped over explaining positions 6 and 7, because they changed every seven years.

The two livery companies involved were the Merchant Taylors Company and the Skinners Company.

The Merchant Taylors represented tailors and Linen Armourers. Linen Armourers made the padded tunics worn underneath a suit of armor to provide cushioning and prevent chafing from the metal armor. This group grew in importance because everyone needed clothing, and war was an ongoing concern much of the time.

The Skinners represented a luxury item: fur. Fur as part of clothing was expensive to import and therefore carefully regulated. Upper class needs included ermine and sable; lower class needs had to be satisfied with rabbit and cat.

Both livery companies received their royal charters in 1327 from Edward III, who not only loved opulence but also a year later was going to gear up for what became the Hundred Years War.

Rivalries between livery companies were not uncommon, but the rivalry between these two was particularly keen for some reason. The order of preference given to livery companies was not just "on paper": it determined who preceded whom in processions. In 1484, during the Lord mayor's river procession, the Skinners and Merchant Taylors treated the occasion as a boat race. This public display of rivalry (and public disruption) needed to be addressed. The Lord Mayor, Robert Billesdon (from the Haberdasher Company) created what is called the Billesdon Award.

The Billesdon Award requires each Company to host the Master and Wardens of the other company once each year. Also, each company should alternate precedence in processions each year. So all is settled and the two companies are reconciled? Not completely: the Merchant Taylors spell the Lord Mayor's name as Billesden, while the Skinners spell it Billesdon.

This is why in the previous post they were listed as alternating in positions 6 & 7. It is believed that the Billesdon Award is the origin of the phrase "at sixes and sevens," denoting a state of confusion or disarray.

Speaking of Lords Mayor and livery companies: one of the Lords Mayor was a wealthy Mercer who accomplished a lot during his life and term in office, but is perhaps most remembered now because of a cat. I'll tell you about him (the mayor, not the cat) next time.

Sunday, January 29, 2023

Curing Disease

The Royal Touch was not just for scrofula, nor was it just a simple touch.

Epilepsy was another disease that would bring folk to the king for healing; and like scrofula, it was a disease whose symptoms were irregular and could end spontaneously. It was actually King John who started the practice of blessing rings on Easter Sunday and hand them out as a cure for epilepsy.

Speaking of handing things out, Kings Edward I, II, and III of England would give a gift of alms to anyone who traveled a long distance to see them (as well as tokens as part of the Royal Touch ritual). It was not a huge sum, but also not an amount you'd stick in your pocket and forget. Because records were kept of royal expenses and alms, those reigns have accurate data on how many people received alms.

We know, therefore, that the reigns of the Edwards averaged about 500 healing rituals per year. Edward I "healed" as many as 1736 in one high-yield year, whereas Edward III only touched 136 one year. Keep in mind that the Third spent a good amount of his reign attacking France during the Hundred Years War, so he wasn't always available at home. Edward II did not spend much of his time in battles, and there was a lot of variation in his annual healing numbers.

The process was also slowed down during Edward II's reign (1307 - 1327) because it was more formalized:

The sick individual was brought before the king and then kneeled in front of the monarch. The king touched the face and cheeks of the afflicted person while a chaplain announced that "He put his hand upon them, and he healed them." The chaplain’s words referred to a passage in the Gospel of Mark 16:18 in which Jesus, speaking to his disciples after the resurrection, suggests that the disciples will have healing powers. Many people believed that the disease was brought on by sin, so prayers were central to the ceremony. [link]

The afflicted would then be given a "touch piece," a gold coin that could be worn around the neck to continue to keep them healthy. The illustration shows the touch piece given by Henry VI (reigned 1422 - 1471). The generosity of the gold coin and the Royal Touch together would enhance the reputation of the king as well as reinforce the notion of divine authority.

So if Edward II wasn't away at war, he could have endeared himself to his people with lots of healings. What was he doing with his time? That's a complicated question, but we will see what we can do about it tomorrow.

Saturday, January 21, 2023

Gascony/Aquitaine

North of the Pyrenees in what we now think of as southwestern France is an area the Romans called Aquitania from the Latin aqua, "water," because of the many rivers flowing from the Pyrenees. We think. The people living there were the Ausci, mentioned by Caesar (whose men conquered it in the 50s BCE), and so the name of the land might have come about to mean "the land of the Ausci."

Skipping a few centuries and some Roman name and border changes, we find the Royal Frankish Annals refer to the "Wascones" in the area. The w=g linguistic link (William=Guillaume, warranty=guarantee, warden=guardian) that we find suggests that the Wascones turned into Gascons; hence the name Gascony.

In 1152, Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine. Aquitaine was by this time a much larger area that included the Duchy of Gascony, and was now in the hands of the kings of England. Henry's grandson, Henry III, personally went to the Duchy of Gascony to look into mismanagement by the not-always-faithful-to-Henry Simon de Montfort. While in the area, Henry arranged the marriage of his son Edward (later King Edward I) to Eleanor of Castile, daughter of Alfonso X who had been making claims on Gascony, since it was adjacent to his own territory. Alfonso renounced his claims as part of the marriage contract, and aided Henry in dealing with rebels living in the Pyrenees.

Even today Gascony is France's most rural area; then it was so little populated that Edward I decided it needed peopling, and he sent his men to create villages called bastides so that the land was not going to waste.

In 1328, when King Charles IV of France died, his nearest male relative was the son of his sister Isabella, King Edward III of England. Having the English king inherit the throne of France—although perfectly legal according to Salic Law—did not sit well with France, and so they ruled against it. Edward objected, the Hundred Years War began, and in 1453 Gascony became permanently French.

I want to offer a brief biography of Edward I next.

Sunday, January 15, 2023

Who Should Inherit?

Primogeniture is actually a "generic" term for different systems of inheritance. The desire by human beings to create a system that determines where a deceased person's possessions goes produced a few options.

The commonly held understanding is that it means the first-born male heir—or eldest male descendant living—inherits. This was called agnatic or patrilineal primogeniture.  One variation on this—agnatic seniority—was used by the later Ottoman Empire, in which the eldest male sibling of the deceased ruler had the right to take over. The Ottomans and the Kievan Rus followed this, where succession passed through the siblings first and then back to the eldest son of the deceased.

What about females in the line of succession? Absolute primogeniture (also called equal or lineal) recognizes the eldest child regardless of sex, and did not exist until 1980, when Sweden amended its Act of Succession. Several monarchies (Netherlands, Norway, Belgium, Denmark, Luxembourg) have since changed their laws to allow inheritance from the eldest child, no matter their sex.

Queens Mary and Elizabeth from England's history existed because there were no male heirs; had there been any, those women would not have been chosen. This is now referred to as "male-preference" primogeniture. England changed to absolute primogeniture in 2013, a change that was simultaneously adopted in all related Commonwealth countries.

Matrilineal primogeniture exists, though it is rare. The Balobedu nation of South Africa are ruled by the Rain Queen, and succession passes to eldest daughter; males were completely excluded until 2021, when the late queen's son became the Rain King.

Male-centered primogeniture most likely arose from the need early on for a leader to be a military leader and to fight other tribes while females raised children. Also, a law that created a clear line of succession would help to prevent sibling arguments that could end in civil war. Younger sons went into military service or the Church. Also, the Bible offered the example of Isaac's son Esau being owed the birthright as elder over Jacob (and foolishly selling it to his younger sibling). In the Middle Ages, possession of land was a crucial part of the feudal system. Keeping large tracts of land intact was beneficial to the person at the top, and primogeniture (and entail, keeping the land together) was efficient.

Salic law, laid down in 500 and the basis of Frankish law, forbade women from inheriting, but also allowed partible inheritance, which meant estates could be divided to keep everyone happy. By Salic law, Edward III, as the eldest son of Isabella, the sister of King Charles IV of France, should have inherited the throne of France upon Charles' death in 1328. Nobles and prelates of France decided that inheritance through the mother was no longer appropriate, and denied Edward his right to the throne, providing the catalyst for the Hundred Years War. Semi-Salic law allowed women to inherit in the absence of any males. Quasi-Salic law refers to allowing inheritance—in the absence of appropriate males—not by a woman, but through her to her son.

Curiously, there was also something called ultimogeniture, or junior right, which is a tradition that allows inheritance by the youngest. Why would that be? I'll explain next time.

Monday, October 24, 2022

Simon Sudbury

Simon of Sudbury, or just Simon Sudbury, was one of those people who shows up here and there, for instance during the Peasants' Revolt when he was killed by the mob. Now that I've spoiled the ending, let me go back to the beginning.

Born to the middle-class Nigel and Sarah Theobald in Sudbury, Simon studied at the University of Paris and became a priest, working for Pope Innocent VI during the Avignon Papacy. Innocent sent him to Edward III in England, where he stayed and became Bishop of London in 1362. His career flourished, and he was named Archbishop of Canterbury in 1375. After Edward III's death in 1377, it was Sudbury who crowned Richard II as the new king. In 1380 he was named Chancellor of England.

Still emotionally attached to his hometown, he had St. Gregory's Church there renovated, building a chapel at the east end of the north aisle and rebuilding the aisles. He also founded a college in Sudbury along with his brother, John of Chertsey.

Despite any good acts he may have performed, as Archbishop of Canterbury and Chancellor of England, he was representative of a government that was considered corrupt and oppressive. To be fair, he was involved in the creation of the third poll tax that pushed things over the edge. When the Peasants' Revolt occurred in 1381, he became a target. The mob damaged his properties at Canterbury and Lambeth, and then entered the Tower of London where he was celebrating Mass. There they found Sudbury and the Lord High Treasurer, Sir Robert Hales. Supposedly, the guards stood by and let the mob in, whereupon the mob dragged Sudbury and Hales out and executed them.

Sudbury's head was hacked off with a sword; the head was placed on a pole on London Bridge for six days, then taken down and sent to St. Gregory's, where it can be seen to this day (see picture above). In 2011, a scan of the skull was used by a forensic expert to make a facial reconstruction, which you can view here. The body is interred at Canterbury Cathedral, with a cannonball in place of the head.

His is one of the rare coats of arms that feature a Talbot dog.

The office of chancellor has been mentioned numerous times throughout this blog, but never explained to an audience (mostly) that did not grow up in a country that has that position. It's time we explained what a chancellor does...next time.

Sunday, October 16, 2022

Stannaries

A stannary was an administrative division in the counties of Cornwall and Devon based on tin-mining. The term comes from Middle English stannarie based on Medieval Latin stannaria, "tin mine,"which itself is from the Latin stannum, "tin." (You may know that the chemical symbol for Tin is Sn; now you know why.)

Tin was so important that a body of law was developed to deal specifically with stannaries. King John in 1201 gave the tin miners of Cornwall the Stannary Charter: the right to prospect for tin anywhere, to be exempt from standard taxation, and to have their own stannary courts in the case of law-breaking. King Edward I in 1305 confirmed these rights, as did Edward III when he created the Duchy of Cornwall in 1337. Crockern Tor, pictured above, was the site of the Stannary Parliament, representing the tin industry.

Tin mining pre-dated the Middle Ages in Cornwall. When the Romans arrived, it was already thriving. Diodorus Siculus in 44BCE wrote the earliest reference to Cornwall we know:

The people of that promontory of Britain called Belerion [west Cornwall] are friendly to strangers and, from their contact with foreign merchants, are civilised in their way of life. They carefully work the ground from which they extract the tin.

In the Middle Ages, the tin was smelted and made into blocks (later standardized at 170 kilograms). They were taken to specifically designated locations called stannary towns where a "prover" would test it for quality, then put an official stamp on it and allow it to be sold. A duty would be calculated on the sale, equivalent to four shillings per hundredweight (170 kilograms = 3.34 hundredweight) under Edward I. Duty amounts changed over time, but the amount of tin coming out of Cornwall and Devon was considerable, so anyone given the right to the duties could have a hefty income. After King John died (and after some other events), the king's council allowed his widow, Isabella of Angoulême the duty from the stannaries of Devon.

This whole system of special privilege, etc., existed until the Tin Duties Act of 1838.

The history of mining in Cornwall was far more extensive than dealing with tin, even tied to a Biblical legend. I'll tell you more next time.

Saturday, July 23, 2022

The Wool Trade in England

Wool is different from hair in that it has a natural "crimp" to it that allows the fibers to bind together. This, and the fact that it can be found in abundance on the backs of sheep, made it an excellent source for textiles. Anyone with a plot of grass could have sheep, and anyone with sheep could learn the steps to make it into cloth.

The Low Countries, such as Flanders, did not have as much land to give over to grass instead of other human-based edibles, but they became excellent weavers whose textiles were in demand all over Europe. They needed the raw material, however, and England was an excellent source.

Wool as in such demand that it became the backbone of the English economy from the second half of the 13th century to the second half of the 15th. Everyone kept sheep for this purpose. Abbeys and monasteries often had large tracts of land given to them, and they became major sources of raw wool.

Wool was so popular a commodity that Edward I (1239 - 1307) realized it was a source of revenue for the crown as well. He instituted a tax on every bale and bag of raw wool that went out of the country. The beauty of taxation for the historian is that it means records are kept, so we know a lot about how much wool was exported. From 1281 to 1300, about 26,000 sacks of wool. How much was that, really? The English "sack," used for wool and coal, equalled 224 pounds. That equates to about 2900 tons of wool annually. In the first couple decades of the 1300s, the annual output averaged 35-40,000 sacks.

Edward III (1312 - 1377) needed a lot of revenue to manage expenses during the Hundred Years War, and raised the tax on wool. He promoted the wool trade by establishing the Woolsack, a large cushion of wool on which the presiding officer of the House of Lords sat.

Edward would make decisions that ultimately lessened the value of wool for his economy. He invited weavers from Flanders to relocate to England. Perhaps he though he could bring another source of revenue closer to home. His high taxes, however, started to discourage people from sending wool abroad, and they started making their own woolen cloth. An influx of skilled Flemish weavers meant less raw wool leaving the country to be taxed. The annual export started decreasing in the final years of his reign, and dropped below 20,000 sacks in the decade following. From 1400 to 1430, it didn't exceed 15,000 sacks, and after 1430 it fell below 10,000.

There was another reason: quality. English wool reigned supreme for generations, but experiments in cross-breeding in the Iberian Peninsula produced something else: Merino wool. The best guesses are Spanish ewes being bred with English and North African rams in the 12th and 13th centuries, and then increased stock over the years, produced a much finer wool that became all the rage for cloth. You can learn more about it in this post.

This web article opened with the following:

Wool as a raw material has been widely available since the domestication of sheep. Even before shears were invented, wool would have been harvested using a comb or just plucked out by hand.

I thought the second sentence was pretty superfluous, but then I asked myself: "Well, when did shears come into the picture?" So I did some looking, and now I know, which I will shear...excuse me, share tomorrow.

Friday, July 22, 2022

Wool—A Brief History

Before we talk about the wool trade, I think a few words about the history of wool is a good start.

There is evidence that sheep were domesticated 9000-11000 years ago, but no evidence that they were used for wool until much later. The oldest woolen garments found are dated to only 4000-3000BCE. The oldest known European woolen fabric comes from a Danish bog and is dated to 1500BCE. In the Roman era, wool was used along with linen and leather. Cotton and silk were rare, coming from India and China, respectively.

We jump now to Northeastern France in the 1100s and the County of Champagne. In various towns in the region, annual fairs were held, lasting 2-3 weeks, where merchants gathered to buy and sell textiles, leather, furs, and spices. These "Champagne Fairs" created economic opportunity and growth and, in the case of wool, they connected the weavers of the Low Countries, such as Flanders, with Italians, who not only were skilled in dyeing cloth, but also had the merchant fleets to distribute products all around the Mediterranean. Wool cloth from Flanders could reach from Spain to Constantinople, from Majorca to Cyprus.

Wool was the economic engine of the Low Countries in the 13th century. Where did the raw wool come from that the Low Countries cleaned and carded and wove so well? England. Nothing benefitted the medieval English economy as much as the wool trade.

In fact, wool was so important to England that it had so-called "wool churches": a church financed by merchants who had become wealthy through the wool trade. Wool was so important that King Edward III in the 14th century instituted "The Woolsack," a large cushion of wool in the House of Lords upon which the presiding officer sat (at the time the Lord Chancellor, now the Lord Speaker).

More specifics of the wool trade in England tomorrow.

Thursday, July 21, 2022

The Flemish Revolt, Part 2

To sum up yesterday's post: France considered Flanders their territory, Flanders under Count Robert III fought a war about that and lost, the treaty demanded an annual tribute. Count Robert and his son both died within two months, leaving Robert's grandson Louis in charge while still in his teens. Louis' father-in-law was the king of France, so his attitude toward France was much more supportive than previously in the Flanders ruling family—and more than the citizens of Flanders would have liked.

Louis was more concerned with being diligent about payments to France than his grandfather was, and so he raised taxes to cover the payments. That move, and his Franco-phile attitude, turned the general population of Flemings against him.

Resentment against the Count of Flanders started manifesting as small rural riots in late 1323—poor harvests that year contributed to the unrest—and ultimately boiled over into an organized rebellion that lasted until 1328. A rich farmer from Lampernisse named Nicolaas Zannekin organized his neighbors and other rebels and captured various towns, including Nieuwpoort, Ypres, and Kortrijk. In Kortrijk, they went so far as to capture Robert, the Count of Flanders. Louis was released on 30 November 1325 after promising amnesty to all the members of the rebellion; Louis fled to Paris the next day.

In April 1326, King Charles IV of France got involved, as their ruler (technically, but not in the eyes of Flanders' citizens). The Peace of Arques he established did not last.

The rebellion expanded, and gained a new leader, the mayor of Bruges, William Deken. Deken had become mayor in February 1328 when Bruges rejected the Count's appointed city magistrate and appointed its own officials. That June, Deken traveled to England to persuade the young King Edward III that he should renew his claim to the throne of France. (Clearly, he wished to distract France, Louis' strongest ally.)

King Charles of France died 21 February 1328, and King Philip VI organized an expedition into Flanders to end the rebellion once and for all. They met at the Battle of Cassel (pictured above), where the rebels were defeated and Nicolaas Zannekin was killed. William Deken fled to Brabant and looked for help from Duke John III, but John wanted nothing to do with the conflict and handed Deken over to France, where he was taken to Paris and convicted of high treason. After cutting off his hands, he was dragged through the streets and then hanged.

Back in Flanders, Count Louis confiscated the property of the conspirators; cities that cooperated were forced to pay heavy fines. The fortifications of Bruges, Ypres, and Kortrijk were destroyed so that they could never again resist an army. 

..and so ended the Flemish revolt. That time. When the Hundred Years War started a decade later, Louis stayed pro-French, even though Flanders' wool trade relied heavily on England. England boycotted Flanders wool, and a new revolt started. This was too much for Louis, who fled Flanders for good and was killed in 1346 at the Battle of Crécy, fighting for the French.

If you spend any amount of time on the economy of Western Europe in the Middle Ages, you will learn that one of the most common and important phrases is "the wool trade." You can guess tomorrow's topic.

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Attacks on Flemings

Whan Adam delf, and Eve span,
Wo was thanne a gentilman?

This was part of a sermon allegedly delivered in Blackheath the night before that group of peasants descended upon London during the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. Although the catalyst for the Revolt may have been a poll tax, resentments against the upper classes were always ready to boil over. Flemings were not generally a large part of the countryside peasant population.

Flemings were, however, mentioned specifically in one account of the Revolt, and it has two curious features. The account in MS Cotton Julius B.II. ends with the lines:

...and many fflemynges lost here heedes at that tyme, and namely they that koude nat say 'breede and chese", but "case en brode".

It was curious that Flemings were mentioned specifically. Also, contemporary references to language in the 14th century are extremely rare, so why distinguish these foreigners with a reference to their tendency to idiomatically express "bread and cheese" as "case and brode." (Modern German for cheese is still "Käse" and for bread is "Brot" with a long ō sound.)

One of the targets for destruction was the "stews" or brothels of Southwark, just south of London across the Thames. It was an area well known for prostitution, and that particular profession at that time was dominated by Flemings. One particular Fleming-run brothel was invaded and destroyed by the mob, but it was owned by the mayor of London, William Walworth, so the destruction may have been aimed at him as a representative of the upper classes—in the spirit of the first quotation above—rather than the foreigners specifically.

But it seems likely that the Revolt, as often happens, "broadened its scope" as the angry mob let its anger focus on several different targets, whether they were a rational reason for the start of the Revolt or not. Xenophobia has been a part of human culture since the beginning of human societies, I would wager, and 14th century England was no different. Distinguishing foreigners by their idiomatic expressions of everyday objects like "bread and cheese" is petty, racist, and perfectly believable.

There was, in fact, other acts of violence against Flemings on the same day of the Revolt, 13 June, as well as the following day, that are not mentioned in any chronicle of the Revolt itself, but come from the law courts. There is a pardon for a man from Holborn who killed seven Flemings just north of London, at Clerkenwell, on 13 June. On 14 June, 35 Flemings were dragged from St. Martin Vintry church and beheaded. The official London records confirm that rebels dragged Flemings from houses and churches in Vintry ward, resulting in 40 decapitated bodies in the street.

Hostility against Flemings continued in the week after the Revolt, and at various locations not connected to the Revolt. Chaucer even refers to the attacks on the Flemings. He was a likely witness to the event, since he was living in an apartment at one of the city gates at the time. In the Nun's Priest's Tale he refers to the shrill voices of the rebels as they killed Flemings.

Why the Peasants' Revolt turned into an opportunity to show extreme prejudice against Flemings particularly is unclear. Flemings would not have been the only foreigners in London, nor did they represent the upper classes, which was one of the targets of the Revolt. It may have been a case of "foreigners taking our jobs." Coastal flooding several years earlier in the Low Countries had caused many weavers from Flanders to seek a living elsewhere, and there was an influx of Flemish weavers into the English textile scene in the 1370s that caused hostility from the English weavers. This was not a new development, however: Edward III had encouraged Flemish weavers in the 1330s to settle in England. Of course his wife, Queen Philippa, was from the Low Countries, and his suggestion may have been at her suggestion.

It might also be that they wanted to help Fleming peasants who had held their own uprising a few years earlier, which we will look at next.

Monday, June 27, 2022

King John the Hostage

King John the Good of France was captured during the Battle of Poitiers in 1356 and taken to England as a hostage, hosted by King Edward. He was given grand lodgings along with his son Philip, where he could have horses and pets, travel the country, dine in grand style, and have a court astrologer and musicians. As a king and peer of Edward, he was going to be treated royally.

The Treaty of Brétigny in 1360 exchanged John for 83 other hostages while waiting for cash payments totaling three million écus. Edward would renounce his claim to the French throne, and France would allow him to hold several areas without owing allegiance to the French throne. John also gave over to England two of his sons: Louis I the Duke of Anjou, and John, Duke of Berry; they were held in Calais, under English control.

In 1362, Louis of Anjou decided he had enough and escaped captivity, against the terms of the treaty. King John was appalled, and felt honor-bound to return to captivity in England. He ultimately was hosted at the Tower of London, where he died in 1364.

Every account of John's captivity and freedom and return mentions that he minted the franc when he first was released in order to stabilize the French economy. Since I've been talking about currency recently, I suppose it's fair to give the franc its moment in the spotlight. See you next time.

Sunday, June 26, 2022

The Give and Take of Hostages

Probably the easiest way to sum up the medieval view of hostages is a line from Adam Costa's Hostages in the Middle Ages:

In medieval Europe, hostages were given, not taken. They were a means of guarantee used to secure transactions ranging from treaties to wartime commitments to financial transactions.

The word itself has caused debate among etymologists. Some sources think it is related to the Latin hostis, "stranger." It seems more likely it is from Old French ostage, which was used for both pledge or bail and kindness or hospitality. In turn this was from Latin obsidanus, meaning literally "to sit before" and meaning people who were hostages.

A hostage was a pledge of financial payment or cooperation. One example was Philip of Courtenay. Another was William Marshal. William served five English kings, starting with Henry II. When he was a boy, his father, John, opposed King Stephen in favor of the Empress Matilda (this was during "The Anarchy"). Stephen was besieging John's Newbury Castle, and John promised he would eventually surrender the castle and offered William as hostage/surety for his promise.

John used the time it bought him, however, to reinforce the castle and send word to Matilda's forces of what was happening. Stephen found out, and ordered John to surrender immediately, or else William would be hanged. John called Stephen's bluff, saying "I still have the hammer and the anvil with which to forge still more and better sons!" Stephen started to arrange to have William catapulted at the castle, but could not do it. Harming a hostage and harming a child were not easily done.William was released only after several months went by and a peace treaty was signed to end the war.

Another famous hostage was King John of France (26 April 1319 – 8 April 1364) during the Hundred Years War. The English under Edward, the Black Prince, dominated at the Battle of Poitiers, although the French army was probably twice the size. John was captured by a French exile who had sided with the English, Denis de Morbecque, who promised to lead John to the Prince of Wales. John surrendered by handing over his glove.

John was taken to England, where he lived in high style for years. He was allowed to travel the country, and had a budget that included buying pets and clothing and having his own court astrologer and a court band. He would be a hostage while a treaty (including ransom) favorable to the English would be negotiated.

His son, the Dauphin, had great difficulty arranging things back in France. The Estates General, a consulting and legislative body of the various estates in France, were angry over the mismanagement of resources (taxes and men) in a disastrous military engagement. They demanded political concessions in exchange for money, which the Dauphin refused. King John would remain a hostage, hosted by King Edward, for a total of four years. How he was able to go home, and why he then went back to England to place himself in captivity, will be explained tomorrow.





Friday, June 3, 2022

The Hundred Years' War, Part 3

(If you want to see parts one and two.)

The second part of the Hundred Years' War was the Caroline Phase, named after Charles V of France, who ignored the Treaty of Brétigny and started reclaiming sections of land from the English-held territory.

Charles had a reason to think the time was right for this move. Problems in Castile caused Pedro the Cruel to ask England for help in restoring him to his throne. Edward, the Black Prince, spent a lot of money raising an army to help. Once Pedro was restored, he broke his promise to repay Edward. Edward decided the best way to recoup his losses was to raise taxes in Aquitaine.

The people of Aquitaine, since they were French citizens, appealed to King Charles for aid, who summoned Edward to Paris in May 1369. When Edward did not appear, Charles declared war. An ailing Black Prince had returned to England in 1371 where his father was also elderly and in poor health. While Aquitaine was in turmoil, Edward's forces were no longer helping Pedro, who was once again deposed. His enemy was his half-brother, Henry of Trastámara. Henry was now more than willing to throw his military power behind the French forces against England. The English fleet was defeated soundly in the Battle of Rochelle in June 1372.

The Black Prince died on 8 June 1376; his father died 21 June 1377, leaving the throne to the Black Prince's son and heir, crowned Richard II, who was 10 years old. A pre-teen king was not going to conduct a war, so England's territory on the continent was mostly the town of Calais.

We should also remember the the Black Death struck between 1348 and 1351, killing up to 33% of English and 40-50% of the French. Raising and outfitting armies could not have been easy. Moreover, the Plague returned every several years, although it did not kill as many each time.

The war would be renewed by Henry V. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, June 1, 2022

The Hundred Years' War, Part 1

Simply put, the Hundred Years War was an argument over the rightful ruler(s) of England and France. Officially, it ran from 1337 to 1453, making it 116 years long. It was not an ongoing battle, but a series of battles depending on who decided it was time to assert a claim to the other's throne, and a series of truces depending on who thought they could make a deal that was advantageous to their country.

It started with Duke William of Normandy, alias William the Conqueror. He was a vassal to the king of France because he held Normandy and other territories in France, even though he became king of England in 1066. Here's the issue: should a king be subordinate to another king, just because he holds territory in the other king's country?

France did not like having large swaths of territory held by the English king, and would occasionally occupy and "take back" those territories when England's army was busy elsewhere, such as when it was fighting Scotland. The real sticking point came in 1328 when King Charles IV of France died. He had no sons, and no brothers. France held to something called Salic law, that determined only males could inherit, not females. Charles had a sister, Isabella, who had married Edward II of England. Their son, Edward III, was the closest male heir to Charles, and Isabella claimed that Edward should be King of England and France.

France did not want a non-Frenchman ruling their country, and so they went up the family tree instead of down and the throne was offered to Philip VI, Count of Valois, a cousin through Charles' father. Edward fumed, but gave in, offering loyalty to Philip through Edward's possession of Gascony. This might have settled things, but Philip got greedy. In 1337, he called a Great Council in Paris where they decided that Gascony should not belong to the English king.

Edward III was not going to stand for this insult (and confiscation of his lands), so the war was on. Tomorrow we will see how the first phase went.