Showing posts with label King John. Show all posts
Showing posts with label King John. Show all posts

Monday, May 12, 2014

Child Lionheart

The vineyards of Cognac
Today is the 823rd wedding anniversary of King Richard I of England, called Lionheart, and Berengaria of Navarre. They had no children, which is why Richard's brother John later took the throne. Richard, however, had a son from an earlier assignation, whose mother is unknown.

He was named Philip, probably after Richard's friend (and sometime adversary) Philip II of France. We don't know his birth date, but he was old enough in the 1190s to be married to Amelia of Cognac, heiress to Itier V, the Seigneur of Cognac* in Charente, in west-central France. When Amelia died, Philip inherited the castle, which later passes into the hands of his seneschal, Robert of Thornham, who had distinguished himself during the Crusades.

One wonders if Philip cared for his noble birth, or simply yearned for a quiet life. He does not keep the estate in Cognac, and we only see his name later in the Pipe Rolls (the financial records of the kings of England). In 1201, during the reign of King John, we find the entry: "And to Philip, son of King Richard, one mark as a gift." A report that there is a record of him "selling his lordship" to King John is just a rumor.

Roger of Hoveden claims in his Chronica that Philip avenged his father's death by killing the Viscount of Limoges, because the crossbow that led to Richard's death was fired while Richard was suppressing a revolt by Limoges. Hoveden's is the only reference to this event, however, and it seems unlikely, especially for a figure who seems so undistinguished and anonymous in all other ways. Except for life as a character in Shakespeare's King John, and as the potential successor to King John in the TV movie Princess of Thieves, Philip of Cognac has passed out of human memory...or interest.

*As you may guess, cognac brandy comes from this region.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

William Longespée

19th c. painting of
William
[link]
The Battle of Damme (mentioned yesterday) was led by the 3rd Earl of Salisbury, a man named William Longespée. William, born about 1176, remained loyal to the royal family throughout his life, probably because they were very good to him.

In 1188, still a teenager, King Henry II gave him the Appleby estate in Lincolnshire. In 1196, the second Earl of Salisbury having just died, King Richard married William off to the Earl's nine-year-old daughter, Ela. This made William the 3rd Earl of Salisbury jure uxoris ["by right of marriage"]. Although it was merely a political match that rewarded William (and put Salisbury into safe hands), William and Ela had several children; the eldest, William II, was born c. 1212.

During John's reign, William was given responsibility for several other positions: warden of the Welsh Marches (this was before Wales was divided into English counties); sheriff of (at different times) Wiltshire, Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire; and the very powerful (but now just ceremonial) Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, with authority over  collecting taxes and dealing with crimes at the five important ports on the southern coast.

Besides commanding the expeditions to Wales and Ireland, William led the fleet that did so much damage to the French and brought back so much wealth for the Battle of Damme. He went up against the French again when he was sent to support England's ally, Otto IV of Germany, against Philip. Unfortunately, his efforts in that area failed, and he was captured and ransomed.

Back in England, he sided with John against the rebellious barons that led to the Magna Carta. In the civil war that followed, William led the forces of John in the south. Later, he would be loyal to John's son, Henry III, receiving more honors from him.

The reason he was in such good standing with the royal family is because he was John's half-brother. William was the illegitimate son of Henry II and the Countess Ida de Tosny, who was Henry's ward at the time.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Battle van Damme

A naval battle, from a ms. dated late 13th/early 14th century
We are accustomed to summing up the reign of King John (1199 - 1216) as a failure. His rebellious barons forced him to sign the Magna Carta; he lost the crown jewels; he gained the nickname "Lackland" [Johan sanz Terre] when he lost Normandy. As it happens, however, his reign was  not without successes.

At the end of May in 1213, King Philip II of France (mentioned here) was fighting in Flanders (someday I will get to that story). It was known that France thought John weak, and was planning an invasion of England.  John decided it was prudent to send his forces to Flanders and try to deal with Philip there, while he was already busy in conflict with someone else.

So John sent 500 ships and 700 knights, along with mercenaries and all the extra servants and other non-combatant personnel that a military campaign requires. His fleet made for the estuary of the river Zwyn on 30 May, where they encountered Philip's fleet, anchored at the town known as Damme. The French fleet was over three times the size of England's; rather than present a problem however, the fleet was manned by a skeleton crew, the military all having gone shore to march to Ghent for their battle.

The English captured a few hundred ships, burned a hundred more; the following day, they did it again, as well as disembarking and attacking the town. Unfortunately, Philip returned to Damme that day, and the English had to flee. They were in possession of hundreds of French ships, however, as well as all the goods that the French nobles carried with them while traveling. One writer of the period claimed "never had so much treasure come into England since the days of King Arthur."*

The damage to the French fleet was considerable, and not just from the deliberate actions of the English: there was so much debris from destroyed ships that the estuary was blocked, and the remaining French fleet could not sail out to open water. Philip had to abandon or burn the remainder of his ships.

*The biographer of William Marshall, in L'Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal ["The History of William the Marshall"]

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas Eve(nts)

The week, as you can imagine, is very hectic around the world for many people, and I am no exception. In  lieu of a regular post, here is a collection of links for events that took place on 24 December:

563 - Hagia Sophia is re-dedicated after being destroyed by an earthquake.
1046 - Pope Clement II is elected.

1167 - John "Lackland" is born to King Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine; he would later sign the Magna Carta.

1294 - Pope Boniface VIII is elected. He would become an enemy of Dante, who would place Boniface in the 8th circle of Hell.

Monday, November 18, 2013

William Tell: The True Story

...and by "true story" I mean "the myth."

Today is the anniversary of William Tell's famous feat in which he shot an arrow through an apple on his son's head with a crossbow bolt. It happened in 1307, and here's the whole story.

In 1307, the new advocate of the Swiss town of Altdorf was an arrogant man named Gessler. He had a hat set on a pole in the town square, and all who passed were supposed to bow to the hat as a sign of respect for Gessler. One day, Wilhelm Tell and his son came into town and passed the hat without paying their respects, for which they were arrested. Gessler said they would be released if Tell—who was famous for his strength, his mountain-climbing skill, and his archery skill—could shoot an apple off his son's head. Tell drew two crossbow bolts from his quiver, and split the apple on the attempt.

Gessler asked him "Why the second arrow?" Tell admitted that, if he had missed and killed his son, the second arrow would have gone right into Gessler. Gessler had Tell re-arrested and sent to prison at Küssnacht castle. On the way there, the ship carrying him became endangered in a storm on Lake Lucerne, and Tell was unbound by the crew to help row to safety. Tell escaped the boat at a rocky site even now called Tellsplatte [German: "Tell's slab"]. Tell proceeded to Küssnacht and waited for Gessler, whom he killed with an arrow. His defiance helped inspire the rebellion that led to the Swiss Confederacy. He later fought for Switzerland in the Battle of Morgarten (1315). He died in 1354.

All this early-14th century detail comes from a history of Switzerland written about 1570 (and not published until a couple centuries later) by historian Ægidius (Giles) Tschudi, who is known to have been less than accurate in discussing his own career and family. William Tell's name is mentioned as early as 1475, but without all the detail offered by Tschudi, whose source for the story is unknown.

It also needs pointing out that the idea of a heroic archer who defies authority is seen earlier in England (Robin Hood, who supposedly harried Prince/King John in the late 12th century) and the Danish Palnatoki, who is forced in to the same contest by King Harald Bluetooth. Palnatoki also pulls more than one arrow from his quiver, intending to kill Harald if Palnatoki's son dies.

The legend of William Tell has inspired plays, operas, art and anecdotes, but his historicity is extremely doubtful.

Monday, October 21, 2013

The Edict of Paris

Gold coin depicting Clothar II
The Edict of Paris, an outline of laws and rights in the kingdom of the Franks, has been called "the Frankish Magna Carta." It was produced by Clothar II (584-628), mentioned in this blog when he commissioned a golden throne.

The comparison to Magna Carta is not simply because it is a set of laws. Just as King John in 1215 was forced to share power with his barons, Clothar had to make concessions to the nobles who had enabled him to wrest the kingdom from his cousin, Sigebert II. Some of the 27 clauses, however, were designed to modify in the king's favor some of the statements from a recent ecclesiastical synod in Paris. For instance, the Paris synod declared that bishops be chosen by the church; Clothar's Edict declared that only bishops that he approved should be ordained.

Otherwise, the Edict establishes some commonsense responsibilities in order to ensure felicitas regni [Latin: the happiness of the realm]. Judges were to be appointed in their local regions (presumably, this prevented the king from appointing one of his close companions with no local knowledge to preside over some noble's region). Poor judges were to be dismissed by the king, or by the local bishops if the king were unavailable. Everyone had the right to bring a lawsuit. Women had the right not to be married against their will.

Not every clause was aligned with modern sensibilities, however. The not-uncommon anti-Semitism of the Middle Ages was part of the Edict: Jews in positions in the royal government had to quit or convert to Christianity.

The Edict of Paris did not become a lasting cornerstone of Frankish law. After the reign of Clothar's successor, Dagobert I, it was superseded by later documents.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Clumsy King John

The Wash, with Norfolk on right and Lincolnshire on left
King John of England (1166-1216) has so many misfortunes attached to him that it is unlikely he will ever be "rehabilitated" in the eyes of most historians. Fighting with his Barons (which led to being forced to sign the Magna Carta—good for England, bad for the King), arguing with Pope Innocent III, which led to his excommunication (meaning he was not allowed to take the Sacraments) from 1209 to 1213, disagreements with King Philip of France (causing the loss, through military misadventure, of his territories in northern France—he had a difficult time getting any respect from his contemporaries.

It was a confrontation with French forces that would lead not only to his death, but to perhaps his greatest embarrassment as a king: the loss of the Crown Jewels—not through actions of the enemy, but through lack of caution or proper planing ahead. Some of the Barons, once again fighting with John, invited Prince Louis of France to lead them: he had a slim claim to the throne because of his marriage to a granddaughter of Henry II (John's father). Louis landed with his army at Kent and proceeded to take over parts of the southeast.

There was fighting all over. John ended a siege on Windsor Castle and moved toward London to clear out the rebels, then north to end a siege at Lincoln, then to Bishop's Lynn* in Norfolk (see the graphic above). While there, he contracted dysentery; this was in late September. As if that weren't enough, King Alexander II of Scotland (1198-1249) took advantage of the turmoil in England to head south, conquering as he came and intending to swear loyalty to Prince Louis in exchange for holding England.

John, still very ill, headed west from Norfolk with his troops, but sent his baggage train across the lowlands of The Wash, the square-shaped estuary marked in yellow in the above graphic. While traversing the causeway and ford during low tide, the slow-moving wagons got caught in the sand, and were overtaken by the cold North Sea waters. The Crown Jewels, and who knows how many other goods and men, were lost in The Wash on 12 October 1216. A week later, John lost his life. He was succeeded by his son, King Henry III, who reigned 56 years until 1272.

*Now renamed "King's Lynn" thanks to Henry VIII.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Two Kings Henry

Henry, the young king.
For a time, the Capetian Dynasty in France had the habit of naming and actually crowning the king's heir in the old king's lifetime. King Stephen and King Henry II of England adopted this policy. In June 1170, King Henry II crowned his 15-year-old son Henry. Watching the ceremony would have been the 13-year-old Richard (later King and Lionheart), 12-year-old Geoffrey, and 3-year-old John (later "Bad King John").

"Young King Henry" (1155-1183) was considered handsome, charming, and popular; however, he showed no apparent skill or interest in politics, military skill, or even ordinary intelligence. For these reasons, it is probably good that his father never entrusted him with any authority. In fact, Henry II seems to have used his son as a political tool.
  • Henry was betrothed to Margaret, daughter of Louis VII of France, on the condition that her dowry would be the Vexin, the border region between the England-held Normandy and France itself. (A nice expansion of England's property on the continent.)
  • Because Pope Alexander III needed help dealing with Frederick I, Holy Roman Emperor, he acquiesced to Henry's request to allow the children to be married in 1160, giving England the Vexin. (There was no ceremony until 1172.)
  • Henry had the royal wedding officiated by the Archbishop of York instead of the Archbishop of Canterbury, as was customary. This was likely an attempt to put the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Beckett, in his place. (He would be dead six months later.)
The benefit of naming your heir early was to avoid disputes at the senior king's death over the succession. In this case, however, since young Henry would inherit vast lands with the throne, he was given a house and staff and large income—and even one of the most respected men of the age, William Marshal, as a tutor in arms—but not provinces and territories like his younger brothers. Consequently, his brothers had more power than he. This would have rankled the young king while his father lived on...and on.*

In 1173, Henry the young king led a rebellion with his brothers, his mother,  the kings of France and Scotland, the Count of Flanders, et alia, against his father (this really was the most turbulent family in the Middle Ages). The same qualities and actions that brought Henry II rivals and enemies, however, also brought him great wealth, and he was able to hire sufficient mercenary forces to put down what was later called the Great Rebellion. (It was the English opposition to all the foreign mercenaries on England's soil that prompted Henry to create the Assize of Arms.)

Young Henry rebelled again in 1183 against his father and his brother, Richard, over Richard's iron-fisted rule of the Duchy of Aquitaine. Henry had the help of his brother Geoffrey and Aquitaine locals who were willing to throw off Richard's rule, but the sudden death of the young king on June 11, 1183, ended the attempt. He was a little over 28 years old. King Philip of France, the brother of Margaret, lost little time in asking for the return of her dowry, the Vexin.** Instead of the land, France accepted an annual payment from Henry II.

Because he never ruled, he is not counted in the list of Kings of England. He is neglected by history in favor of his younger brothers, but he is not without fans: a recent website is devoted to him.


*Queen Elizabeth should be glad that the House of Windsor does not appear to have any of the Plantagenet temper.
**The 1967 movie The Lion in Winter is a highly fictionalized—and highly entertaining—account of this meeting.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

A Note on Ireland

Anti-Irish sentiment has a long heritage. In the Middle Ages, Ireland was a target of Western Europe disdain for at least two reasons.

16th century map of Ireland.
Gerald of Wales (c.1146-c.1223), a royal clerk under King Henry II, accompanied Henry's son John to travel to Ireland in 1185. Gerald praised the land, but condemned the people:
They use their fields mostly for pasture. Little is cultivated and even less is sown. The problem here is not the quality of the soil but rather the lack of industry on the part of those who should cultivate it. This laziness means that the different types of minerals with which hidden veins of the earth are full are neither mined nor exploited in any way. They do not devote themselves to the manufacture of flax or wool, nor to the practice of any mechanical or mercantile act. Dedicated only to leisure and laziness, this is a truly barbarous people. They depend on their livelihood for animals and they live like animals.
This could have been an accurate account of what he saw, but could just as easily have been intended to provide justification for Henry's conquest of Ireland in order to gain for himself and his sons more lands and resources. Pope Adrian IV (the first Englishman to sit the Throne of Peter) had written a papal bull in 1155 called Laudabiliter;* it gave Henry permission to assume control over Ireland and apply Gregorian reforms.

...and that was the second reason for anti-Irish sentiment: Ireland needed to be brought into line doctrinally with the Roman Catholic Church. Catholic missions to Ireland (notably that of the Scotsman, St. Patrick) had introduced Christianity centuries before this. Christianity had survived in Ireland while it suffered in Britain due to invasion from Northern European pagan groups. But the Christianity restored in Britain afterward was closely tied to Rome, while Christianity in Ireland had developed its own practices and rituals.

Old habits are hard to break; "No Irish Need Apply" was not uncommon even in the second half of the 20th century, and Irish stereotypes and persecutions today are no new thing.

*The names of papal bulls don't always signify their topic; in this case, it is named for the opening word, which says (in English) "Laudably and profitably doth your Majesty consider how..." N.B.: scholars have argued for the last few centuries over the authenticity and authority of Laudabiliter, but for the present purpose, we can accept that it was very real for the 12th century.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Wycliffe in Politics

A church reformer gets his start.

We don't know a lot about the early years of John Wycliffe (c.1324-1384). There were likely a few "John Wycliffe"s around this time, and there are doubts that the one who went to Merton College in Oxford in 1346 was the same one who was master of Balliol (a far more liberal-minded college) in 1360, who was given a position in the parish of Fillingham. His time at Oxford might have overlapped that of William of Ockham; it is certain that the Wycliffe in whom we are interested was familiar with and influenced by Ockham's writings.

His running of Fillingham (and a succession of parishes) did not prevent him from living at Oxford and participating in the college as an instructor and a scholar. He became known and respected as a theologian, and received his doctorate in theology in 1372.

Wycliffe's entrance to politics is presumed to be in 1365, when he advised John of Gaunt (the king's son, but a powerful political figure in the wake of King Edward III's increasing senility) to deny Pope Urban V the 33 years of feudal tribute for which England was in arrears. The tribute had been established by King John, but Wycliffe told Gaunt that the papacy was wealthy enough and did not need or deserve the money. Gaunt and Parliament were all to willing to agree: Edward III had the habit of outspending his income, money was always needed in case a war with France should arise again, and this was the time that the papacy itself was in Avignon, France. Giving money to the pope in France felt like giving money to the enemy against whom you might need to fight a war some day!

By this time, Wycliffe had developed strong opinions opposing the wealth of the church. He was not branded a heretic (yet!). Had he been openly thought of this way, he would hardly have been included in the delegation that attended the peace congress in Bruges in 1374. Bruges had two purposes: establishing reduced hostilities between England and France, and dealing with the papacy's problems in the English church. He seems to have attended purely as a respected theologian whose opinions were academic, not militant. At the time he was still friends with men like the monk John Owtred, who held that St. Peter proved the union of spiritual and temporal power—an idea totally opposite to Wycliffe's thoughts on the subject.

That would change in the next decade. By the time of Wycliffe's death ten years later, he would lose his friends, his positions, and the respect of the papacy and many of his colleagues. He would also start a reform movement, produce a controversial Bible, and influence a reform movement in Bohemia. More tomorrow.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Magna Carta

The "Great Charter" was signed on June 10, 1215 by King John.

After the Norman Invasion of 1066, the kings of England started to rule more as the monarchs we think of today, abandoning the English custom of a council of wise men, the witenagemot, that had aided kings for centuries. Under strong and charismatic individuals such as Henry II (who ruled from 1154 until 1189), this system may have worked, but King John was not like Henry II. He was called "Bad" King John because he taxed people so heavily. He was called "Lackland" (in Old French, Johan Sanz Terre) because he lost the Duchy of Normandy to King Philip II of France. For these and other reasons, he lost the support of his barons.

The barons decided they needed to return the kingdom's governance to a system that allowed them more input. To that end, they conferred and agreed to draw up a great charter, which was drafted by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton. Although Langton may not have been as affected by John's whims as the barons, he had been the cause of a dispute between John and Pope Innocent III, which had resulted in John's brief excommunication. Langton definitely saw the need to curb John's ability to get himself and England into trouble.

When John decided to tax the barons themselves in order to mount a war to regain lost provinces on the continent, the barons had had enough. The barons and Langton produced a document called the "Articles of the Barons" in January of 1215, which John rejected. The barons then armed themselves and marched to London, occupying it in May. They confronted John at Windsor Castle, and he agreed to a meeting at a place called Runnymede.

Some items established by Magna Carta:
  • The Church was free to rule itself, especially in the appointment of bishops.
  • No new taxes, except with the consent of the Great Council, or Parliament
  • Weights and Measures were to be made uniform throughout the realm
  • Everyone had the right to due process
On June 15th (797 years ago today), the Barons reciprocated by renewing their Oath of Fealty to King John.

Of course, John had no intention of being bound by the restrictions of the Magna Carta, but that's another story.