Philip of Milly

After the death of Templar Grand Master Bertrand de Blanchefort, King Amalric I of Jerusalem saw a chance to help himself out. Bertrand had refused to help an assault on Egypt in 1168, concerned about how a previous attempt had failed and not wanting to lose Templar lives needlessly. Amalric saw a chance to influence the next Grand Master and put in place someone who would be more of an ally. He turned to Philip of Milly.

Philip of Milly (c.1120 - 3 April 1171; that's his coat of arms in the illustration) was a baron in the Kingdom of Jerusalem who had inherited his father's estates in Nablus in the West Bank, Palestine. He was around when the Second Crusade arrived, and was at the meeting in Acre when the Crusade (against the advice and votes of local rulers) chose to attack Damascus in 1148, leading to a disastrous defeat for the crusaders.

In 1161, Philip traded his lordship of Nablus for Transjordan, a region east of the Jordan River. This deal was made under King Baldwin III. It was Baldwin's successor, Amalric, who almost certainly influenced the Templars to accept Philip as their new Grand Master. Philip was a good choice for Amalric because they were allies in an earlier venture against Baldwin. Philip was good for the Templars because he had land and revenues from said land that could be donated to the Templars.

Philip joined in 1166 (not yet as Grand Master), bringing with him a large part of Transjordan and granting to the Templars the castle of Ahamant (now Amman, Jordan). Philip himself joined Amalric's new attempt to invade Egypt in 1168, although the rest of the members of the order would not go because of Bertrand's decision. When Bertrand died in 1169, Amalric pressured the Templars to accept Philip as their new leader. Although Bertrand had established policy that a Grand Master needed agreement from the order to go to war, Philip brought the Templars to the next invasion attempt, which failed.

Philip resigned as Grand Master a short time later, in 1171. He went with Amalric to Constantinople as an ambassador, but died before reaching the city.

Why was Amalric so motivated to get Philip elected as Grand Master? What was the connection between them in the affair against Baldwin? That's a good story, and I'll share it next time.

Templars: The Early Days

Formed about 1120 by Hugues de Payens and eight others—including André de Montbard, the uncle of St. Bernard of Clairvaux—the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, aka Templars, had some trouble getting established. They wanted to be a monastic order of knights to provide protection to pilgrims in the Holy Land, which had been opened up to Western European Travel by the Crusades (begun in 1095).

King Baldwin II of Jerusalem had given them space in the palace complex on the Temple Mount, which had most recently been the captured Al-Aqsa Mosque. They had no funds, however, and so André de Montbard turned to his already famous nephew to write an endorsement of the order, after which they started to thrive. André eventually became the Grand Master, but with his death in 1156 the last of the original nine founders was gone. The next Grand Master took a step back and decided it was time for reform.

Bertrand de Blanchefort (c.1109 - 13 January 1169) was a son of Lord Godfrey of Guyenne. Although raised as a warrior and becoming a member of an order of warrior-monks, he wanted to emphasize facets of the Templars other than their status as soldiers. One step was to ask the pope for permission to use the title "Master by Grace of God" in order to stress the religious nature of the order less than the military nature.

He also wrote a set of clear rules for different positions in the order, and created checks and balances against the Grand Master's role, to ensure that future Grand Masters could not make decisions on the order's purpose or goals without the support of the rest of the knights.

In 1157, he was captured after fighting alongside King Baldwin III of Jerusalem in a battle against Nur ad-Din Zangi, ruler of the Syrian province of the Seljuk Empire. He remained a prisoner for three years until the Byzantine Emperor Manuel I Comnenos made a peace treaty with Nur ad-Din and had Bertrand released.

Bertrand also fought with Baldwin's successor, Amalric I, in an unsuccessful expedition against Egypt in 1163. Another expedition was planned in 1168, but Bertrand refused to participate, and was involved instead in drawing up a peace treaty with Egypt later. After Bertrand's death, however, Amalric pressured the Templars to elect Philip of Milly as their next Grand Master, a man with whom Amalric already had a relationship. Because of this choice, Amalric gained Templar support for future fighting forays. Who was this next Grand Master? Where did he come from? I'll talk about him next time.

Uncle and Nephew, Part 2

After Bernard of Clairvaux wrote a long statement endorsing the new order at the request of his uncle André de Montbard, the Knights Templar began to thrive. André was seneschal, second-in-command to the Grand Master.

Even when there was no official Crusade, battles in the Holy Land between Christian forces and Muslims still took place. Between the Second and Third Crusades, at the Siege of Ascalon (pictured here; 25 January to 22 August 1153), the Fatimid defenders set fire to a siege tower set up by the Christians. Unfortunately for the defenders, wind was blowing in the wrong direction and directed the flames back against the defenses, causing part of the wall to collapse.

Templars were first to enter the breach, aiding in the capture of Ascalon, the last coastal city in Palestine that was not yet controlled by the Crusaders. In the fighting, the fourth Templar Grand Master, Bernard de Tremelay, was killed. According to William of Tyre, the Templars—who had a "first in and last out" philosophy of battle that was admirable to civilians but looked like grandstanding to other soldiers—rushed in so as not to share spoils with the rest of the army (Templars were still looking for financial support).

André de Montbard was elected the fifth Grand Master. Despite his increased duties to the order and to activities in the Holy Land, he maintained a relationship with his nephew in Burgundy who had helped him out. They wrote several letters to each other over the years.

While the Siege of Ascalon was going on, Bernard was dying (he was in his early 60s then). He wrote to André, asking that the knight visit him:

…I wish even more strongly to see you. I find the same wish in your letters, but also your fears for the land that Our Lord honoured with His presence and consecrated with His blood…

But let us mount above the sun, and may our conversation continue in the heavens. There, my Andre, will be the fruits of your labours, and there your reward…

By the time André received this, Bernard was gone.

Interestingly, Bernard's death was attended by a Templar Grand Master: the third Grand Master of the Templars, Everard des Barres, had given up war, tonsured his head, and joined Clairvaux to live out his remaining years in contemplation, despite André's entreaties to return to the fray alongside his former comrades.

André himself died on 17 January 1156; he was the last of the original nine founders of the Templars. He was replaced by Bertrand de Blanchefort, whose story we will take up tomorrow

Bernard's Endorsement

When André de Montbard's new order of monks/knights intended to protect pilgrims in the Holy Land was suffering due to lack of donations, he turned to the most famous person he knew personally for help: his nephew, Bernard of Clairvaux. Surely Bernard's reputation for saintliness would give the "Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon" a boost.

The lack of donations might have stemmed from two reasons. They were a new order, formed about 1120, and so far largely unknown in Europe (since they were stationed in the Holy Land). Also, there was some confusion about their existence: was it proper for monks to take up arms? Was a "monk-warrior" a justifiable career?

André visited Clairvaux in 1126, entreating Bernard to lend his voice and reputation to the cause. Bernard approved of his uncle's mission, and wrote (some time prior to 1136) the Liber ad milites templi de laude novae militiae (Latin: "Book to the Knights of the Temple, in praise of the new knighthood"). Bernard praised the new spiritual knights because mundane knights were given to secular violence and vanity, adding precious metals and gems to their shields and saddles. These new knights instead would wage:

...a twofold war both against flesh and blood and against a spiritual army of evil in the heavens. ... He is truly a fearless knight and secure on every side, for his soul is protected by the armor of faith just as his body is protected by armor of steel. He is thus doubly armed and need fear neither demons nor men.

Bernard may have strayed from personal knowledge of the new order and imagined a few details, for instance in describing their Jerusalem headquarters:

...adorned with weapons rather than with jewels, and in place of the ancient golden crowns, its walls are hung round about with shields. In place of candlesticks, censers and ewers, this house is well furnished with saddles, bits and lances.

This letter would have helped not only to spread the word of the valuable and laudable service of the new order, but also would have helped boost their morale.

The letter helped, and the group that also came to be called the Knights of the Temple or Knights Templar grew until they became a very powerful force in Europe as well as the Holy Land.

The relationship between uncle and nephew continued, and I'll talk a little more about the two next time.

Uncle and Nephew, Part 1

André de Montbard (5 November c. 1097 – 17 January 1156) was the other child of Count Bernard I de Montbard (1040–1103) of Burgundy and his wife Humberto de Roucy who survived past childhood. His sister was Alèthe de Montbard. Alèthe had several children who survived to adulthood, and after her death in 1107, eventually all of her sons followed her son Bernard to Cìteaux Abbey (a daughter took up Holy Orders elsewhere). Alèthe's husband, too, retired to Cìteaux.

André's career also veered into a Holy Order, but he took a different turn.

The Cistercians whom his nieces and nephews joined prized discipline and austerity as part of piety. Bernard was very influential in promoting this lifestyle, even to the detriment of his health. He ate simply, and not much. Bernard's piety also was comfortable with the idea that killing in the name of Christ was right and proper.

André, meanwhile, needed help. He and eight others had begun a new (holy and militant) Order in 1120 with the support of Baldwin II of Jerusalem. The Order was designed to provide protection to pilgrims coming to the Holy Land, which had opened up tourism after the Crusades. They called themselves Pauperes commilitones Christi Templique Salomonici, or The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon.

The name was accurate: they were poor: their symbol was two knights riding the same horse. Admirable, but not sustainable. Baldwin had given them a wing of a former mosque now being used as the royal palace, but donations from pilgrims who had already spent a great deal of money to travel could not support the Order.

But André had a link to his nephew, Bernard, whose fame as a holy man was spreading far and wide. He went to Cìteaux to speak to Bernard, asking for his support. Bernard agreed with their mission, and wrote a letter "In Praise of the New Knighthood." This endorsement from the saintly (and eventually an actual saint) Bernard of Clairvaux changed everything. I'll explain tomorrow.

His Mother Was a Saint

Count Bernard I de Montbard (1040–1103) of Burgundy and his wife Humberto de Roucy had several children. Sadly, most of them died very young—not uncommon at the time—but a son and daughter, André and Alèthe, survived past childhood. Originally intending to enter a convent, Alèthe (1070 - 1107) was married at the age of 15 to a Burgundian knight, Tescelin le Roux (c.1070 - 1117).

Alèthe and Tescelin had several children: Guy, Gerard, Bernard, André, Barthélémy, Nivard, and Ombeline. Tescelin's rank was not as high as his wife's, but (perhaps through her father's influence), the couple lived very well, able to give their several children good educations while living at the Château de Fontaine-lès-Dijon. The couple were considered by later chroniclers to be notably virtuous. (The illustration shows them both in a stained glass window made for Mariawald Abbey; the whole picture shows them above their son, St. Bernard of Clairvaux.)

Alèthe built a chapel in 1102 near their castle dedicated to St. Ambrose. Her piety strongly influenced her children. When she died at the age of 37, we are told her son Bernard was deeply affected (as I am sure the whole family was). Bernard made the decision to become a monk. Looking for a proper venue, he chose the Abbey at Cîteaux. Legend says that he had a vision of his mother, dressed in white, telling him that God had great plans for him and that he should persuade his brothers to join him.

Bernard and all his brothers went to Cîteaux. All became saints, Bernard of Clairvaux (named for the monastery he himself founded a few years after entering Cîteaux) becoming one of the most celebrated of them. Their sister, Ombeline, entered Holy Orders in 1132 and became abbess at Jully Les Nonains after Bernard demanded the building (a 10th-century castle) to become a convent linked to Molesme.

Alèthe's body was originally interred in the chapel she had built, and she was already considered a saint by the locals. In 1250 the abbot of Clairvaux had the remains brought to Cîteaux to be entombed next to her son, Bernard. At the end of his life, Tescelin joined Cîteaux.

Alèthe had a brother, Andre, who also followed Bernard into Holy Orders, but his life took a slightly different direction from the contemplative: a familiar life, in fact, for readers of this blog. We'll tell the story of André de Montbard tomorrow.

Bernard Comes and Goes

In 1107, a Burgundian woman from a noble family died. Her name was Alèthe de Montbard, and she had several children, one of whom was named Bernard. Bernard—who had been educated by priests and thought of becoming one—in 1113 led 30 members of his friends and family to Cîteaux Abbey to join the order.

Bernard's dedication and fervor drew even more of his acquaintances and family to join later, including Tescelin de Fontaine, his own father. Cîteaux's membership expanded so rapidly that they outgrew the current abbey.

In 1115, Bernard and 12 monks left to found a new abbey which he named the Claire Vallée, or Clairvaux. Bernard's reputation was so connected to this new abbey that, although he traveled widely, he is now known as Bernard of Clairvaux.

Bernard (seen preaching in the illustration) was as strict a follower of Cistercian austerity as anyone, if not more so: extreme fasting made him often ill. Despite the strictness, followers were drawn to Clairvaux, so many that from Clairvaux there were several new communities founded. Before Bernard died in 1153 there were 60 additional Cistercian abbeys. Not all were founded from scratch: many were converted to Cistercian from Benedictine. (Despite the reputation of the Rule of St. Benedict for austerity, the Cistercians gained a reputation for being more disciplined.)

Bernard was a great motivator and inspiration for the growth of the Cistercian Order, and involved in many other important events, some of which you can read about here.

"Behind every successful man there's a woman." We can account for his religious dedication by looking at his upbringing, and especially the influence of his mother. Tomorrow we'll talk about Alèthe de Montbard, mother of a saint who became a saint herself.

The Road to the Cistercians

After Robert of Molesme returned to Molesme monastery to restore strict adherence to the Benedictine Rule, Alberic of Cîteaux was elected abbot of the abbey at Cîteaux. Alberic was a planner, and considered the physical needs of the abbey.

He first moved it a mile north to be near a better source of water. He then made what some might think a more radical change. Benedictines wore black garments. Alberic abandoned black for undyed wool, giving the monks a much lighter look. For this reason they are sometimes called the White Monks.

He also made agreements with temporal forces. He managed to get a donation of a vineyard from Duke Odo I of Burgundy, as well as materials for building a church. (The illustration is of the current abbey.) Alberic is given credit for getting their new order recognized by Pope Paschal II.

Alberic died on 26 January 1109, and the English monk Stephen Harding (c.1060 - 28 March 1134), one of Robert's original followers, became abbot. Prior to joining Molesme, Stephen had experienced life with both the Camaldolese and Vallombrosians. Stephen knew that it was important to codify the practices of this new order, and he wrote the Carta Caritatis (Charter of Charity), the Cistercian constitution that outlined a life of work, prayer, and austerity.

Stephen gained more land for the abbey, only accepting donations of undeveloped land that the monks would then cultivate. At Cîteaux they followed the strict observance of the Rule of Benedict in regard to the Divine Office, which meant praying every few hours throughout the day and night. Because of the wakefulness demands of the Divine Office, they took on lay brothers for help in working the land to support the abbey.

In 1113, Cîteaux was joined by a charismatic young man in his 20s named Bernard, and the Cistercian Order really started to grow. We'll see his influence tomorrow.

Who Were the Cistercians?

In 1098, some Benedictine monks from the monastery of Molesme in France (Duchy of Burgundy) founded a new abbey at Cîteaux. Molesme was only a quarter-century old, having been founded in 1075 by Robert of Molesme. Robert had been a prior at another abbey, then abbot at Saint-Michel in Tonnerre, but the lax attention to the Benedictine Rule bothered him.

Therefore, when a group of six hermits asked him to lead them in a new community, he founded Molesme. They built an extremely primitive abbey, but a visiting bishop saw their situation and provided them with food and clothing. Word spread of this holy situation, but their membership grew too quickly with too many people who did not want the level of austerity and manual labor Molesme demanded.

Disillusioned with this new abbey, in 1098 Robert of Molesme, an English monk named Stephen Harding, and only the most rigorous members of Molesme followed Robert to Cîteaux where they founded a new Benedictine abbey. They were determined to live in austerity and to support themselves with manual labor, largely agricultural.

Cîteaux will be the birthplace of the Cistercian Order, but I don't wish to neglect Molesme. The monks there realized what they had caused by their laziness, and wished to return to the rigor they had under the inspirational and disciplined Robert of Molesme. They appealed to Pope Urban II to convince Robert to return to Molesme and lead them. In 1099 he returned to Molesme, leading them until his death in 1111.

Meanwhile, at Cîteaux, one of the original hermits that asked Robert to lead them, Alberic of Cîteaux, became abbot. He had been Robert's prior at Molesme and Cîteaux, and was very strict about the Benedictine Rule. It was Alberic who would get the Cistercian Order officially recognized by the pope. For that next step, however, you will have to wait until tomorrow.

Medieval Dyes, Part 2

 

Part 1 covered blue, black, red, yellow, and green. Let's look at some others.

Gray was a humble color, and could be had by using leftover dye from making black. Cistercians and the Friars Minor of the Franciscans wore gray habits.

Pink was easy to make, since madder root used for red or brazilwood could be used in a lesser strength or by soaking the cloth for a shorter duration. Medieval illustrations often show ladies wearing pink dresses, which makes one wonder if pink was considered a feminine color centuries ago. Men also could be painted in pink, but their hosiery, not upper/outer wear. (By the way, the name brazilwood comes from a Portuguese word, pau-brasil, a flowering plant in the Old World. When Portuguese sailors found a related species growing all over the coast of South America, they named the place Terra do Brasil, "land of brazilwood." That's right: the country was named for the plant, not the other way around!)

If you wanted to suggest purity or innocence, you went for white. This was not always a bright white, but linen looked white enough prior to dyeing that it qualified as white. You could also soak linen in lye made from wood ashes, and throw in some lime. Since clothes could get dirty, wearing white was a sign that you afford to not get "down in the dirt" as a farmer. In the 14th century poem Piers Plowman—in which we happened to find the earliest reference to a "Robin Hood"—of all the characters introduced, there are few descriptions of their appearance, except when white clothing is mentioned; it always indicates a person of purity or innocence.*

Brown or russet/orange came in many shades and can be produced by anyone with access to boiling water and walnut shells or bark.

And so we come to purple, the color of royalty; so much so, that the phrase "born to the purple" indicated royalty, and porphyrogenitus was used in Byzantium as a title. Expensive purple candles were reserved for Advent, the "coming of Christ the King." Dressing a king's favorite in purple, as Edward II did for Piers Gaveston, was a clear indication to all the court of the king's favor. A species of sea snail (Murex) was an ancient source of the color, but it took thousands to make 1 gram of purple dye. Its expense made it rare, and its rarity gave it value, and its value made it reserved to the wealthy and ultimately limited to emperors and the highest classes.

There has been lots of research into the history of dyes. Although I do not quote from it, the Innsbruck Manuscript of 1330 (translated here) has instructions on dying. Vassar has a bibliography on works on dyeing. And there are many websites devoted to medieval times that instruct on dyeing the old-fashioned way. For instance, the illustration above is found on one such site.

In the paragraph on gray, I looked for a link to explain the Cistercians, and discovered that I have mentioned them many, many times, but there's no "introduction" to them. Let me correct that next time.

*A little trivia about me: "Clothing Imagery in Piers Plowman" was one of the first papers I ever wrote in grad school in the Medieval Studies program at UConn-Storrs.

Medieval Dyes, Part 1

Yesterday's post about "blue" jeans from Genoa mentioned indigo, a color dye that had to come from plantations in India until other sources of blue were found. Western Europe found a substitute in woad.

Woad was a plant in the mustard family, and ancient burials in Germany and the UK have found evidence of woad being used thousands of years ago. It was not a consistent blue, however, and its result ranged from a grayish-blue to black. It also took several months to produce properly. Indigo was a more reliable blue, though expensive.

Madder root was used to make red, and gave its name to the color rose madder. A darker red could be unstained by repeated dying, or from an import from India called dragonsblood.

Green was a popular color for interior walls of a house apparently, but for clothing it had different connotations. It could be considered unlucky to wear because it symbolized the decay after death. Chaucer's Yeoman, however, wore green because of its rustic connotation. Bright green clothes were associated with the rich, just as emeralds were the most sought-after gemstone.

To produce yellow there was a plant native to Europe and Western Asia called by many names such as dyer's rocket or weld. When picked before the flowers became too mature, it produced a bright yellow that worked well on linen, silk, and wool.

Black was a difficult color to produce in fabric, but had strong symbolism that made it desirable for different classes. It required a mixture of madder, woad, and weld, and it needed lots of alum. "Alum" refers to a salt (potassium alum, or sodium alum, or ammonium alum), known to Pliny and earlier as an astringent substance helpful in dyeing (and medicine). Black was considered a "humble" color and used for clerical garb. The complexity which its manufacture required also made it desirable by the upper classes. Along with red and purple, black is most often listed as one of the colors restricted to the elite.

I'll share the sources of more colors tomorrow.

Genoese Blue Jeans

Mention "jeans" or "blue jeans" and someone will comment that they were patented in the 1870s by Levis Strauss and Jacob Davis after Davis put rivets on the pockets to make them strong enough to be worn by miners who wanted to stuff rocks in their pockets. They have become a universal symbol of modern Western culture. But why are they called "jeans"?

They were around before Davis stuck the rivets on the pockets, and there is a theory that the name comes from Gênes, the French word for Genoa. Could the fabric be named for a city? Why not? After all, denim certainly is derived from de Nîmes—"from Nîmes"—because the material comes from the twill fabric first made in Nîmes, France.

Genoa produced a fustian cloth referred to as being of "medium quality and of reasonable cost." "Fustian" was a Latin word (fustaneum) for this type of heavy cotton cloth; originally with a linen warp (the vertical threads held together in the loom) and a cotton weft (the threads passed back and forth by the shuttle). "Fustian" can be applied to corduroy, velvet, or moleskin. 

The Genoese navy used this material for trousers because it was durable and wore well even when wet, unlike wool. Denim was higher quality and used for overgarments.

Were they "blue" jeans? This jeans development was in the 14th century, and the blue would have had to come from indigo. The word "indigo" as a color is first used in 1289 (that we know of, in English), and the Genoese may have used it, but indigo could be expensive because it had to come from India (hence its name) until the late 19th century, and we don't know that they bothered to dye their jeans material blue.

I think we should talk more about medieval dyes next

Genoa Grows

After the sack of Genoa by the Fatimids, the city started to recover. One avenue for commercial growth was the Crusades, and the First Crusade gave Genoa opportunities to find goods in the East worth trading.

Genoa contributed a dozen ships and 1200 soldiers (a little over a tenth of it population) to the Crusade, setting out in July 1097. The Genoese provided naval support and supplies to the main army. Theirs were the ships that blockaded Antioch during the Siege of Antioch. In 1099, Genoese bowmen were important during the Siege of Jerusalem.

Joining the Crusade also brought them into more contact with the Eastern Roman Empire. The city made treaties for trading rights with the Byzantines, Tripoli (Libya), Antioch, Armenia, and Egypt.

This was challenged by the other strong naval port on the other side of the Italian peninsula: Venice. The role Venice played in the Fourth Crusade—frequently discussed in this blog, but see here for a start—saw Venice gain control over most of the maritime trade in the Eastern Mediterranean.

On the other hand, when Michael VIII Paleologos in Nicaea wanted to recapture Constantinople he turned to Genoa for help, since Venice was helping the current emperor. This was in 1261, and on 25 July they were successful. Genoa was granted free trade rights in the Nicene Empire, and it used the islands of Chios and Lesbos and the city of Smyrna as local headquarters. Genoa now surpassed Venice as the major trading power on the Mediterranean Sea.

...and then they invented blue jeans, but we'll save that story for tomorrow.

The Fatimids Sack Genoa

In the 10th century, Genoa was becoming an important port on the Ligurian Coast in far northwest Italy. Their ships were trading with much of the Western Mediterranean. This made them a target for competition, and additionally a target for the Fatimid Caliphate in 934CE. The Fatimid Caliphate had conquered Ifriqiya (Northern Africa), and wished to dominate the Mediterranean. (The illustration shows the extent of the Fatimids in the 10th century; the red star represents Genoa.)

Although there are no eyewitness accounts of the Fatimid navy attacking Genoa, it was a well-known event to both Christian and Muslim writers not long after. Bishop Liudprand of Cremona (c.920 - 972), writing in 960CE (samples of his chronicling were mentioned here and here), wrote about the Muslims first attacking the city of Acqui, not far from Genoa, and then says:

At the same time, in the Genoese city, which has been built in the Cottian Alps, overlooking the African sea, eighty miles distant from Pavia, a spring flowed most copiously with blood, clearly suggesting to all a coming calamity. Indeed, in the same year, the Phoenicians [North Africans] arrived there with a multitude of fleets, and while the citizens were unaware, they entered the city, killing all except women and children. Then, placing all the treasures of the city and the churches of God in their ships, they returned to Africa.

Liudprand mentions, among the treasures taken away from Genoa, linen and silk. This would have been too early for the West to be developing silk production, and so it suggests that Genoa was prosperous enough to be trading in such valuable materials with the East.

The first Arabic source is from even later, and names the caliph who ordered the attack. Other Arabic sources get very specific in details, although they don't always agree on things like the number of ships (20 or 30). As they approached, the Muslim ships encountered merchant ships, attacking and appropriating their goods and taking prisoners.

Genoa is described here as a well-fortified city, and although other cities would have been attacked, Genoa is the only one named. Unlike Liudprand's report, the Arabic source says the Genoese fought outside the city walls and then on the streets. The city was plundered and burned on 16 August 935. Because of the medieval tendency to exaggerate, we have to consider carefully whether we believe the report of 8000 prisoners taken, including 1000 women sold into slavery.

The fact that Genoese records don't exist in any large numbers before the second half of the 10th century gives further evidence that there was destruction prior to that. The author of the Golden Legend, Jacobus de Voragine, writing 300 years later, claims the attack was successful because the Genoese fleet was away at the time, but they pursued the Fatimid fleet and rescued the captives. (Not very likely, Jacob.)

Genoa slowly recovered, however, and we'll look at its rise to commercial powerhouse starting tomorrow.

Genoa the Superb

Actually, when Petrarch referred to Genoa as "la Superba" he meant "the proud one." Genoa, on the northwest coast of the Italian peninsula, was a powerhouse of commerce from the 11th century until the end of the 18th. It was one of the wealthiest cities in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, and one of the largest naval powers in Europe.

The origin of the name is uncertain. The Latin genu/genua means "knee," which could refer to its placement in relation to the "boot" of Italy. Because it has mountains on one side and the sea on the other, some say it comes from Latin ianua, "door," because like the derivative that gives us Janus, the two-headed god of the Romans (and January), it faces two ways. Pliny the Elder called it oppidum Genua, "Genoa town."

It is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, with evidence of occupation from at least the 4th millennium BCE. In the 1st century BCE it traded in honey, skins, and timber. Its alliance with Rome made it a target of the Carthaginians during the Punic wars, and Genoa was destroyed by Carthaginians during the Second Punic War in 209BCE. After the Punic Wars ended in 146BCE, Rome granted it Roman municipal rights.

It was occupied by the Ostrogoths after the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476CE. After the Byzantine Empire under Justinian I defeated the Ostrogoths, Byzantium made Genoa the seat of its vicar in the West. For awhile, Genoa grew slowly, building ships and making commercial connections to the Western Mediterranean.

There was another power—not Ostrogoth, Roman, or Carthaginian—that was making a name for itself in the 10th century, and that was the Fatimid Caliphate. Operating out of North Africa, they wanted to control trade (and destroy infidels). Tomorrow we will see what they did to Genoa.