Augustine's Mission and Bertha

Augustine (early 6th century - c.26 May 604) was a prior of the Abbey of St. Andrew in Rome when he was chosen by Pope Gregory to travel to Britain to bring Christianity to the Anglo-Saxons.

His chief goal was to convert King Æthelbert of Kent. The illustration shows Kent to be a fairly small area, but Æthelbert was powerful as a bretwalda and was respected and listened to by neighboring kingdoms. He was also married to a Frankish princess, Bertha. This link to the continental kingdom not only helped his influence, it made him open to Christianity, since Bertha was a practicing Christian.

Æthelbert allowed the missionaries to preach and use a church dedicated to St. Martin as a base. Æthelbert did convert, and was probably baptized at Canterbury. We don't know when he converted, but letters dated 601 from Gregory refer to him as "my son" and mention his conversion.

With the king's conversion, a community-wide conversion became possible. Augustine mentions making lots of conversions within a year of his arrival. In 598 Augustine wrote to the patriarch of Alexandria claiming he had baptized more than 10,000.

With many conversions progressing, Augustine sent one of his companions, Laurence, back to Rome with questions for Gregory about organizing the church in Britain: who could marry whom, how to deal with church robbers, consecration of bishops, relations between the churches of Britain and Gaul, etc. Messengers from Rome eventually brought a pallium from Gregory to Augustine, making him a bishop.

One bit of advice was to shift feast days of the locals to days celebration Christian martyrs, and to turn religious sites to shrines for saints.

Obviously the Gregorian Mission worked, and Augustine became the first Archbishop of Canterbury for his efforts. There is someone else who should get more credit for Britain's conversion, however, and that is Bertha. I'll tell you more about her next time.

Not Angles, but Angels and Other Wordplay

One of the anecdotes about Pope Gregory "the Great" that is most often repeated is how it came about that he sent missionaries to England.

Supposedly, about 597, he was walking through Rome and came upon a slave market where some fair-skinned and blonde-haired children were being sold. He asked what they were and was told "Angli"; that is, they were Angles. His reply was Non Anglo, sed Angeli, meaning "Not Angles but Angels." Asking where they came from he was told "Angle-lond." He decided this "Angel-Land" needed to know all about Christianity, so he sent Augustine and a contingent of missionaries to England.

Furthermore, when told that their province was Deira and their king was Aella, he replied that they would be rescued de ira ("from wrath") and that Alleluia should be sung in that land.

This story is told by Bede in 732—the illustration above of the incident is from Westminster Cathedral—and whether it actually happened is up for debate. In the illustration you can see the monk Augustine standing to the right with a staff.

There is at least one other anecdote about Gregory involving wordplay. It recounts that Gregory wanted to go to England himself to spread Christianity. At a break in his journey, while reading his Bible, a locust startled him by landing on the edge of the book. He exclaimed locusta! and then thought it was a sign to loco sta, to "stay in your place/locus."  As it happened, someone from the papal palace arrived an hour later to tell him he was needed back in Rome.

The Gregorian Mission to England by Augustine and company transformed the island. After Gregory's death he was referred to in Britain as "our Gregory," and the first biography of him was written at the monastery in Whitby. It was in England at the Synod of Whitby that customs such as the calculation of the date of Easter were made firm, and the Archbishop of Canterbury was one of the most powerful Christian offices after the pope. I'll summarize Augustine's spread across England tomorrow.

Gregory the Great

Saint Gregory the Great (c.540 - 12 March 604) started as Pope Gregory I in 590. Earlier than that he started as a prefect of Rome, though he established a monastery on the family estate (on a major road linking the Colosseum and the Circus Maximus; his father was a Roman senator), and lived as a monk for awhile before becoming a papal ambassador. He was well-educated and, thanks to his family connections we assume, probably well-versed in Imperial law.

Under his predecessor, Pelagius II, Rome and the country were in dire straits due to incursions from the Lombards that had ravaged the country. Rome was filled with poor refugees, and the Lombards were "at the gates" and overrunning the peninsula. Pelagius sent emissaries (including Gregory) to Constantinople (the seat of the Empire) to send help.

Constantinople was not helping, and when Gregory became pope in 590, he took matters into his own hands. Rome was overcrowded with people who were starving and destitute. Gregory turned out to be a very effective administrator, possibly from the influence of his father's political knowledge. He started organizing ways to help the citizens.

Charitable relief was one of his greatest triumphs, using profits from donations to churches to help the poorest among the population. He demanded that each parish seek out those in need and keep track of them. Gregory encouraged his rich acquaintances to expiate their sins by making donations to aid the poor. If his staff (the papacy already had an accounting department) and followers would not cooperate, he replaced them. In one of his letters, he reprimands a subordinate:

I asked you most of all to take care of the poor. And if you knew of people in poverty, you should have pointed them out ... I desire that you give the woman, Pateria, forty solidi for the children's shoes and forty bushels of grain."

Famine was a large problem. The church owned over 1300 square miles of farmland which produced goods that were sold. Gregory set quotas for production, urged the people tending the land to do more, and had the results shipped to Rome to be distributed to the needy. The starving crowds in Rome started to receive—free of charge—necessities such as cheese, fish, grain, meat, oil, and wine.

Gregory was responsible for many other reforms, both political and religious. He made some changes to the order of the Mass which still pertain today, and maybe I will get to those details some day. In yesterday's post, however, I teased that he set in motion something that would make a profound change to the whole of English history. Tomorrow I'll tell you what he did outside of Rome and Italy. Stay tuned.

Basilica of San Zeno

Theodoric as King of Italy did not just want to be king of the land; rather, he wanted to be seen as king or custodian of or successor to the Roman Empire. He therefore restored and renovated many public buildings as well as building new ones.

One of these new buildings was a small church built for St. Zeno. Zeno of Verona (c.300 - 371) was an early saint with a couple of backstories. One says that he came from Mauretania, an area in Africa known for Berbers, where he tutored children in their schoolwork and taught them about Christianity. Another theory was that he was a follower of Athanasius, an opponent of Arianism, who visited Verona in 340. The style of the nearly 100 sermons we have from Zeno support an African origin. One tradition says he was the eighth bishop of Verona, and Gregory the Great calls him a martyr.

Zeno supposedly—among his other good works—converted man from Arianism to Roman Christianity. Despite this, the Arian Christian Theodoric thought it wise to build a church for Zeno. The place was expanded into a basilica under King Pepin of Italy (Charlemagne's son) in the 9th century. In the 10th century, Zeno's body was moved to a different church after the building was damaged by Magyars, but it was returned eventually to its original crypt. The church was rebuilt with the patronage of Holy Roman Emperor Otto I. The current expanded building was completed in 1398.

You can learn more about the church and see its interior here. The church's sculptures show scenes from Theodoric's life. One scene is Theodoric riding into Hell (see it in the previous post), but also there are depictions of Theodoric's fight with Odoacer. Not depicted, however, is a famous story having nothing to do with Theodoric but known to all. The crypt below the church, where St. Zeno's bones lie buried, is supposed to be the crypt where two young lovers killed themselves because their families denied them their union. These two families of Verona were the Montecchi and Cappelletti, although you may know them as the Montagues and Capulets.

Regarding Gregory the Great: he has been mentioned only a few times in this blog, but he made a decision once that affected the whole of English History (and probably Western Civilization) forevermore. I'll explain next time.

Theodoric Lives On!

Long after the death of Theodoric in 526, legends rose of the Germanic warrior who led his people to conquer various armies. (Theodoric even shows up on the Rök Stone.) As time passed, however, he wasn't called Theodoric of Ravenna: he was called Dietrich von Bern (of Verona). The name "Dietrich" means "Ruler of the People," which is the same definition as "Theodoric." The legends come from the late Holy Roman Empire and are largely written in Middle High German.

As is typical with the oral tradition of tale-telling, the details got muddled. Theodoric was born shortly after Attila the Hun died and a century after the Gothic King Ermanaric; he later invaded Italy and became its "king" by defeating Odoacer (the previous invader), with his capital in Ravenna. Dietrich, on the other hand, was the king of Italy already, ruling from Verona, but was forced into exile by his evil uncle, Ermenrich, and winds up at the court of Etzel (Attila) and the Huns. The switch from Ravenna to Verona suggests that the legends arose from the Lombards, whose capital was Verona (Ravenna was still part of the Byzantine culture).

Dietrich also differed from Theodoric in that he sometimes was depicted as breathing fire. This suggests a hint of the demonic. There may be an origin of this in some of the ideas about Theodoric. A 12th-century German chronicler, Otto of Freising, wrote that Theodoric rode to Hell (while alive) on an "infernal" horse. (See the illustration, thought to represent that ride of Theodoric, who is here labeled regem stultum, "stupid king," on the church portal of San Zeno Maggiore in Verona.) Some traditions called Theodoric a son of the devil. Because Theodoric was a practicing Arian, the prevailing Roman Christianity had reasons to "demonize" him.

An early (c.820) German heroic lay, Hildebrandslied, includes the story of the main character's flight alongside Dietrich to escape Odoacer, one of the few people that handed Theodoric defeats (until Theodoric negotiated a treaty and then slew Odoacer during the celebratory feast). Later legends become less and less historical, with Theodoric/Dietrich slaying a dragon, or fighting dwarves and giants.

The Church of San Zeno Maggiore, whence comes the above illustration, has a few more interesting historical tidbits I'd like to share. At first I thought it might be linked to Zeno, the Byzantine Emperor who put Theodoric in charge of the military and set him against Odoacer, but it turns out that it's a lot more interesting than that. See you tomorrow.

Theodoric's Mausoleum

Once Theodoric was King of Italy and essentially in charge of the Western Roman Empire, he did what he could to manage Rome as it would have been managed at the height of the Roman Emperors. He embarked on an extensive building/re-building project, restoring many buildings and refurbishing aqueducts, the Senate's Curia, and other valuable infrastructure.

To manage government services, he hired Boethius, a Roman aristocrat, Christian, and "renaissance man." Things were running smoothly enough that the Eastern Emperors during Theodoric's time let him be. After all, he was "letting Romans be Romans" with their own laws, while his Goths lived under their own customs and laws. Tolerance was practiced: when a synagogue in Ravenna was destroyed by a mob in 519, he ordered the city to rebuild it.

A new Eastern Emperor, Justin I, was less open to allowing the Western Empire to function independently. In 522, a problem with the Senate looked like a conspiracy against Theodoric, so he had his chief administrator, Boethius, and Boethius' father, Symmachus, arrested in 523. While in prison, Boethius wrote his Consolation of Philosophy. He was executed in 524.

Two years later, Theodoric died of dysentery while planning to attack the Vandals after their King Hilderic killed Theodoric's sister, Amalafrida (well, she was trying to change succession rules after her husband, the Vandal King Thrasamund, died). With no male heir, Theodoric's grandson Athalaric succeeded him; Theodoric's daughter and Athalaric's mother was regent.

Theodoric's Mausoleum (pictured above) was part of his Roman rebuilding campaign. In it, his sarcophagus consists of a porphyry tub from a Roman bath situated in the center of a second story. Made of very large stone blocks from a quarry 249 miles away, it has a roof made from a single piece of stone 33 feet in diameter. The roof alone weighs 230 tonnes (a metric tonne is 1000 kilograms or 2205 pounds). Its Gothic style is unlike Roman or Byzantine. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and is the only example of a 6th century royal tomb.

Theodoric's long reign, success in leading his people, and his management of the Western Roman Empire made him an important Germanic figure; so much so, that he lived on later as a German hero, Dietrich von Bern. Let's look at those legends tomorrow.

Theodoric's Successes

Odoacer was a Germanic soldier who overthrew the Western Roman Emperor Romulus Augustus (who was only a pre-teen) and declared himself King of Italy. The Eastern Roman Emperor, Zeno, asked Theodoric of the Ostrogoths to deal with the Odoacer situation. The two leaders battled for a couple years before finally negotiating a treaty to share the rule of the Western Empire and ignore Zeno's demands.

Theodoric went to Ravenna, where a feast was planned for 15 March 493 to celebrate their treaty. Theodoric made a toast to honor his co-ruler, drew his sword, and sliced Odoacer from collarbone to thigh. His men killed Odoacer's retainers, and Theodoric proclaimed himself King of Italy.

He was now King of the Ostrogoths (since 471), and King of Italy, so he had room in which his people could settle. He realized the danger of spreading some tens of thousands over too wide an area, rendering them less able to defend themselves and more difficult to gather together if he needed an army. He concentrated the Ostrogoths in Ravenna (his capital), Pavia, and Picenum. Theodoric ruled Italy from 493 until his death in 526.

Of all the "barbarian" groups that overtook Rome, Theodoric and the Ostrogoths were the ones who most wanted to maintain Roman culture. Theodoric issued his own coins (see illustration), he made laws that ensured fairness for Goths and Romans, and he mandated religious tolerance. Romans were Trinitarian Christians (literally "Roman" Catholics), while Theodoric and the Goths were Arians. He also promoted rebuilding of Roman cities, especially in Ravenna, where he rebuilt walls, aqueducts, churches, baths, and other structures and amenities.

One of his enduring buildings is his mausoleum, one of those ancient edifices that causes modern architects to ask "How did they do that?" I'll talk more about Theodoric's end tomorrow.

Theodoric's Troubles

After Theodoric (454 - 526) was made commander of the Eastern Roman Empire's forces by Emperor Zeno, you might have thought that his future was assured. Zeno, however, was annoyed when Theodoric dealt with a famine by asking—not conquering, asking—Zeno for permission to expand into new land where they might produce more food. Zeno's retaliation was to offer command of the forces to Theodoric "The Squinter" Strabo, the person whose defeat by our Theodoric earned him the command in the first place!

Theodoric was not going to suffer this insult quietly or let his people starve, so he invaded communities in the Rhodope Mountains in southeastern Europe (Bulgaria), slaughtering peasants and taking supplies. Their savagery drew an attempt from Zeno to make a truce, but Theodoric was not satisfied. He sent an emissary to Zeno, who was in Epidaurum at the time.* Meanwhile, Zeno sent soldiers to attack Theodoric's people, stealing (supposedly) 2000 wagons of supplies and capturing 5000 Ostrogoths.

Zeno made many bad political decisions—including losing the Western Roman Empire—and in 483 he offered Theodoric the position of absolute top military commander and made him consul in 484. Consuls were the chief magistrates of the Roman Republic. This position did not mean hostilities ended between Theodoric and Zeno. Theodoric continued to plunder Eastern Empire territories, approaching Constantinople itself.

Zeno engaged the Bulgars to attack Theodoric; the Bulgars were defeated. Theodoric besieged Constantinople, hoping to pressure Zeno into giving him land for the Ostrogoths. Zeno was having trouble with Odoacer, the Germanic ruler who was king of Italy, and offered Theodoric to defeat Odoacer and take Italy. Theodoric initially lost against Odoacer in 490; the two rulers spent the next few years fighting across Italy, finally negotiating a co-ruler treaty to stop the hostilities.

One of the two never intended to honor the treaty. I'll tell you which one next time.

*Epidaurum would be devastated two centuries later by Avar and Slavic invaders; citizens would flee north several miles and found a new city, Ragusa.

Theodoric the Great

There were many Theodorics in the Middle Ages, but only one was called "The Great." As the son of a king, and later a king himself, we can be certain of several details about him.

He was born in 454CE, right after his people, the Ostrogoths, freed themselves from domination by the Huns after the death of Attila a year before. That was not to say the Ostrogoths were from then on masters of their own faith. His father, Theodemir, made a treaty with Emperor Leo I of the Eastern Roman Empire. One of its conditions was Theodoric's removal to Constantinople as hostage to secure good behavior by the Ostrogoths. (There was also a tribute each year to Constantinople of 300 pounds of gold.)

Theodoric, who was about seven or eight years old, benefitted from this move. Because his father had consolidated lands that had belonged to Theodemir's brothers, the Ostrogoths ruled a large territory, making Theodoric as the next heir a valuable partner for the Empire and someone the Empire wanted to make sure would be a valuable ally in the future. He was therefore educated in reading, writing, and arithmetic by the best imperial teachers and learned far more about the world than he might have otherwise.

Theodoric was returned to his family when he was 15 or 16, and was given command of part of the Osgtrogoth kingdom held by one of his uncles. Shortly after, he proved his value to the kingdom when a Sarmatian king, Babai, attempted to invade an area near Theodoric that was under Constantinople's control. Theodoric with 6000 warriors defeated the invaders and killed Babai.

Theodoric increased his reputation in the 470s by leading military campaigns against enemies of the Goths and the Eastern Roman Empire. When Theodoric was successful against Theodoric the Squinter, a Thracian Goth who had led a revolt against the Emperor Zeno, Zeno rewarded him with command of the Eastern Roman forces.

In 471, he was made King of the Ostrogoths. With this position and the favor of the Emperor Zeno, his star was ascendant. Zeno, however, was a fickle emperor, as we shall see next time.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodoric_the_Great

http://dailymedieval.blogspot.com/2012/08/4-stages-of-gothichistory-culture.html

Aëtius of Amida and Acne

Galen was one of the primary sources of medical expertise in Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, often to the neglect of other authors. The works of the 6th century Aëtius of Amida have more recently undergone closer scrutiny and revealed his originality and importance in his field.

He was born in Amida in Mesopotamia (what is now the city of Diyarbakir in Turkey), but at some point moved to Constantinople. His writings refer to Petrus—the personal physician to Theodoric of the Ostrogoths—as a contemporary, which would indicate that Aëtius was writing at the end of the 5th century or early in the 6th.

As a Byzantine Greek in the 5th-to-6th centuries, he was likely a Christian.  His closeness to the emperor(s) of Constantinople can be discerned by the title sometimes attached to his name in records: κόμης ὀψικίου ("komés opsikiou"), the "chief officer" who is part of the emperor's retinue. He might have been given official duties outside of his medical profession, since he traveled to copper mines on Cyprus, and at Jericho and the Dead Sea.

His great work was Sixteen Books on Medicine, which later editors thought to organize into four tetralogies. He does quote the Greco-Roman Galen and Oribasius (personal physician to the Roman Emperor Julian), but adds much original information. Some of his work directly applied to pregnancy—or rather, avoiding such. He is known to have developed a concoction for causing a pregnancy to abort; the ingredients are not known. He also developed a contraception medicine consisting of aloe, pepper, saffron, and the seeds of the wallflower (a member of the cabbage family).

He described a condition of the skin, a particular kind of blemish that arises when one is in the "acme" of his or her life, during puberty. Due to a typographical error, however, when he described it as part of the acme (ἀκμή) of life, the word was written as ἀκνή, accidentally substituting the "n" sound in place of the "m" sound. The word "acne" never having been seen before, it was assumed that this was his name for the blemishing, and the scourge of adolescent complexions through the ages got its name.

About his contemporary, Petrus; or rather, about Petrus' chief patient: I've referred to Theodoric more than a few times, but haven't yet dug into the details of the man who was king of one thing or another from 471 to 526—a pretty substantial length of time. It's time we looked into his life in a little more detail, which we shall do tomorrow.

Saint Blaise

The man who would become known to Western Europe as Saint Blaise was Bishop Vlasi of Sebastea in Armenia. His life was written about 400 years after his death, in the Acts of Saint Blaise:

Blaise, who had studied philosophy in his youth, was a doctor in Sebaste in Armenia, the city of his birth, who exercised his art with miraculous ability, good-will, and piety. When the bishop of the city died, he was chosen to succeed him, with the acclamation of all the people. His holiness was manifest through many miracles: from all around, people came to him to find cures for their spirit and their body; even wild animals came in herds to receive his blessing. In 316, Agricola, the governor of Cappadocia and of Lesser Armenia, having arrived in Sebastia at the order of the emperor Licinius to kill the Christians, arrested the bishop. As he was being led to jail, a mother set her only son, choking to death of a fish-bone, at his feet, and the child was cured straight away. Regardless, the governor, unable to make Blaise renounce his faith, beat him with a stick, ripped his flesh with iron combs, and beheaded him.

This incident forever joined the saint's name to throat ailments, but he is also the patron saint for infants, animals, builders, stonecutters, carvers, drapers, wool workers, wool industry, veterinarians, physicians, healing, the general sick, choking, and Ear Nose and Throat illnesses.

As well as a plethora of causes for which one might appeal to Blaise, there were numerous locations that claimed his patronage: several towns in Italy, in Sicily, Sebastea, and Dubrovnik, whose Republic of Ragusa even has his likeness on their flag! Dubrovnik and others have parades and festivities on 3 February for the saint's feast day.

Blaise was very popular in the Middle Ages, with many churches and locations named for him. A shrine near where he was martyred was commented on both by Marco Polo and William Rubruck.

Outside of works on saints' lives, he was mentioned by Aëtius of Amida, a medical writer, for his healing abilities. Aëtius is interesting for many reasons, one of which is the typographical error in one of his works that named a near-universal medical issue. But that's a story for tomorrow.

The Siege of Ragusa

A 9th-century Arab dynasty almost ended the city of Dubrovnik in its infancy. At the time, it was called Ragusa, founded about 615CE by refugees fleeing the destruction of the Roman city Epidaurum during the war between the Avars and Slavs. Ragusa/Dubrovnik was an ideal spot, having a sandy shore onto which boats could be dragged when not plying the waves, and a source of fresh water for the inhabitants.

They built their town with the natural timber found all over, namely the Holm Oak, whose name in Croatian, dubrava, gave the town its later name. Mindful of their war-torn origin, they fortified the town against possible invaders.

Invaders came in the form of the Aghlabids of Ifriqiya, functioning as pirates and looking for new territory to conquer. Byzantine records state that the Aghlabids launched a campaign against the south-eastern coasts of the Adriatic in 866. They succeeded in plundering cities along the coast until they reached Ragusa. Finding the city fortified, they set up a siege, intending to wait out the inhabitants.

Ragusa turned out to be better prepared than expected; they withstood the siege for fifteen months! They could not last indefinitely, however, and snuck messengers out of the city to request aid from the Byzantine Empire. Byzantium had once controlled and patrolled the region but had allowed that vigilance to subside; it was their absence that enabled the Aghlabids to invade.

The latest emperor, however, wished to re-assert control over areas to the west. Emperor Basil I sent a fleet of 100 ships under the command of admiral Niketas Oryphas. News of the Byzantine fleet's approach caused the Aghlabids to withdraw. Admiral Oryphas planned future expeditions to push Saracens out of the region, slowly returning the Adriatic and southern Italy to Christian rule.

Every 3 February modern Dubrovnik celebrates with parades and several days of festivities in honor of their patron saint, Sveti Vlaho, or, as he is better known in the West, Saint Blaise. Let me tell you his story next time.

Ragusa to Dubrovnik

The modern city of Dubrovnik began as a town called Ragusa, founded by Romans fleeing war. From its start in the 7th century, it developed into a forward-looking community as well as an important port city on the eastern Adriatic coast.

King Stjepan I of Croatia gave a grant of land that extended Ragusa's rule 16km north along the coast. The region was covered in the Holm Oak, which is significant for two reasons. Holm Oaks can grow close to 100 feet tall, making it suitable for large construction projects like community structures and ship-building.

The second significant point is in the Croatian word for the Holm Oak: dubrava. This evolved into the name of the city, and Ragusa in the late Renaissance became increasingly known as Dubrovnik.

Dubrovnik was no ordinary medieval city. Roman architectural knowledge enabled them to fortify the city that would allow them to withstand long sieges by Arabs in the early days of the city's development. During war between Byzantines and Normans, when Venice started expanding its authority over the region, the annoyed Ragusans fought for more and more independence from other distant powers. When Pope Calixtus II elevated their bishop's diocese to an archbishopric in 1120, they gained more autonomy in the region.

In 1358, Dubrovnik finally freed itself from Venetian rule when war between Venice and Hungary-Croatia forced Venice to relinquish influence over its possessions in Dalmatia. A few years later, Venice tried to get revenge by forbidding its boats from trading with Dubrovnik and other Dalmatian ports. This merely prompted Dubrovnik to seek trade elsewhere, building even larger ships that could manage longer voyages along the wider Mediterranean routes. In 1365 Dubrovnik negotiated a trade deal with the Ottomans, since they were now sailing to Egypt and the Levant. Dubrovnik even grew strong enough to start expanding its territory, annexing some islands in southern Dalmatia. In the 1500s, Dubrovnik was trading with India and even the Americas.

One of their impressive achievements was a very early one: resisting an Arab siege for 15 months. Next time I'll tell you about the Siege of Ragusa, and how it might have ended the Republic of Ragusa and the growth of Dubrovnik when it was still in its youth.

The Pearl of the Adriatic

The oldest apothecary in Europe was founded in Dubrovnik, in southern Dalmatia in Croatia. At the time, it was called Ragusa; to be fair, it was called both names for centuries, "Ragusa" being used since the 10th century (it was the center of the "Republic of Ragusa") and "Dubrovnik" showing up a century later as the town name and widely used in the 16th and 17th centuries up to now. 

It was founded in the 7th century by Romans from the south fleeing fighting between Slavs and Avars. Byzantium initially protected this part of the world, but later it would fall (like much of the Adriatic coast) under control by Venice.

One of the things Ragusa became known for was ship-building; in fact, they built their ships indoors because their methods were so innovative that spies wanted to copy them.

A very forward-thinking city, they adopted a code of laws and public services that sound very modern. A medical service was started in 1301, the apothecary mentioned above was established in a monastery in 1317 and still functions today. In 1347 they opened an almshouse (just in time for the Bubonic Plague which arrived a year later), and a quarantine hospital in 1377. Ragusa established a separate town outside the walls for those suffering from leprosy. 

Their law only allowed a doctor to be paid when the patient was healed. A female doctor was mentioned in records in 1325. A service for removing garbage from the town was first recorded in 1415. The city paved the streets, and shop-owners were required to sweep the area in front of their shop. Aqueducts and sewage systems were installed in 1436. Underground silos were built that could hold 1200 tons of grain (which they had to import). They voted to abolish slavery in 1416.

Ragusa/Dubrovnik has so much fascinating history that I want to continue this tomorrow.

The Plague Continues

The Bubonic Plague, also called the "Black Death," first hit the European Middle Ages primarily in 1348-1351, but that wasn't the end. To be fair, it was revving up to the east long before 1348. It was responsible for deaths in the 1200s in China. In the 1340s it was killing people living around the Black Sea. In fact, we know that it existed among rodent populations high up in the Alps.

How do we know this?

The spread of the plague has been better understood in recent decades thanks to modern science and the sequencing of genomes. The bacterium Yersinia pestis has been sequenced, and modern science can detect it from bones of the long-dead. In many cases, those bones are easier to identify because the plague killed so many so fast that the corpses were thrown into mass graves quickly. In fact, the approach of the plague did prompt preparation: the mass graves in London were dug before the plague actually arrived. (The illustration shows a mass grave of plague victims in France.)

Therefore, by examining skeletons from different eras, we can track the spread and durability of the plague, which was endemic in Europe after the mid-14th century appearance. Plague returned approximately every decade or so for centuries. Whatever the cause (see the link in the first paragraph), folk realized they should try to stay away from those who were infected. This led to quarantining when news of a plague resurgence came to a community. You could either barricade yourself in your house or escape the town. In 1377, the town of Ragusa on the Adriatic initiated the first wide-spread, mandatory quarantine. In the second half of the 1400s, quarantines were common around the Mediterranean, whose warm weather and coastal ports allowed plague to thrive and spread.

Ragusa actually had a reputation for doctors. If you search for Ragusa on a map today, it will show you a city in southern Sicily, not on the coast of the Adriatic. That's because it's got a different name now: Dubrovnik. Let's talk about its medieval history tomorrow.

Causes of the Bubonic Plague

The Bubonic Plague's first appearance in medieval Europe from 1348-1351, and it was terrifying. At least one-quarter to one-third of the population died in those few years; entire villages were depopulated, and no country was untouched.

King Philip VI of France asked the University of Paris to determine the cause. Forty-nine members of the medical staff studied the matter and wrote the Paris Concilium.

They produced more than one theory of why humans were suffering from it, while maintaining that the plague was too mysterious for human beings to ever truly understand the origin. They drew from the available authorities: Avicenna's work on pestilential fever, Aristotle's Meteorology on weather phenomena and putrefaction, Hippocrates' Epidemics on astrology in medicine.

Their theories:

—The Concilium followed Aristotle's idea that a conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn was disastrous. Albertus Magnus believed a conjunction of Jupiter and Mars would bring plague. A conjunction of Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars took place in 1345 right after solar and lunar eclipses, under the sign of Aquarius, compounding the disastrous effects of the planets. Jupiter was sanguine, hot and wet—the worst combination that would lead to putrefaction.

—Another possible cause was poisonous gases released during earthquakes. Disadvantageous conjunctions of constellations produced winds that distributed gases rising from rotting carcasses in swamps. The poisonous vapors would be inhaled and go straight to the heart (they thought the heart was the organ of respiration), and then cause the body's vital organs to rot from the inside.

—There was also the possibility of God's punishment for man's wickedness.

Of course, there was no reason to believe that these causes were mutually exclusive.

The plague was devastating, and also didn't end in 1351. It remained endemic to Europe, as I'll discuss next time.

A Few Medical Firsts

Gentile da Foligno was a physician who learned his art at Padua and Bologna and then became a teacher—quite a wealthy one, as it happens. At the University of Perugia in Siena he made 60 gold florins per year (1322 - 1324). He then went back to his origin at the request of the Lord of Padua, Ubertino I da Carrara.

Besides teaching, he produced several medical treatises. One was a massive and widely copied commentary covering the Canon of Medicine by Avicenna. The Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493 referred to him as Subtilissimus rimator verborum Avicenne, "that most subtle investigator of Avicenna's teachings"; the illustration above shows Gentile learning "at the feet of Avicenna."

He is said to have performed the first medical dissection in centuries. Even the Romans, for all their search for knowledge, did not approve of cutting open the deceased. Examining the insides of the human body was necessary for starting to learn how organs work; for example, how liquids flow through the body.

Foligno wrote a commentary on urine and suggested that the blood passes through "porous tubules" (per poros euritides) in the kidneys, which strain it and pass the urine to the bladder. He was also the first to suggest that a fast pulse rate led to higher urine output (as a faster metabolism would). He also believed there was a correlation between the heart and the color of urine. A Journal of Nephrology article says he may have been the first cardionephrologist in history.

He also wrote a popular treatise on the Black Death, and recommended theriac for its treatment. Unfortunately, theriac preparation was complex and time-consuming, so there may not have been enough of it to go around. Not that it would have helped: presumably Foligno would have had access to some; however, he died of the plague at its start, on 18 June 1348.

To cure the plague, you would probably want to know what caused it, and that was a puzzle. Tomorrow I'll tell you of the Paris Consilium, who believed they had the answer.

The Poison that Cures

It started with King Mithridates IV of Pontus (132 - 63 BCE), who was afraid of being poisoned. He wanted to know all about poisons, so he not only tested them on criminals so he would understand their symptoms (and antidotes), but also he ingested the poisons himself in order to build tolerance. His personal physician developed for him a universal antidote which he named mithridatum, composed of 40 ingredients, including opium, myrrh, saffron, ginger, and cinnamon.

Mithridates' method of self-inoculation worked so well that, when he was captured by Pompey, he tried to poison himself, but the poison had no effect. His writings about developing the cure-all was found by Pompey's people and translated into Latin. Nero's physician added more ingredients, most notably mashed and roasted viper's flesh.

The search for a panacea, a universal cure, has a long history. Mithridatum is one example. The Greek physician Galen (mentioned many times in this blog) wrote an entire book on the making of his cure-all; he called it Galene after himself, but it also became known as theriac (from the Greek word for a wild beast); it contained viper's flesh, opium, honey, wine, cinnamon, and more than 70 other ingredients. It needed to ferment for six years and then be applied orally or topically; it kept its potency for 40 years.

In the 7th century a theriac made by the inhabitants of Anatolia was given to the emperor of the Tang Dynasty. The Tang apothecary declared its usefulness against a hundred illnesses. The Middle East called it Tiryaq. Medieval English apothecaries called it "Venice Treacle" because it came from the Mediterranean, and was distributed by the Worshipful Company of Grocers. "Treacle"? Yes. Produced from cane sugar, the thick and sweet syrup was considered "good for what ails you"; the word is actually linked to theriac. In modern medicine, the word "treacle" is defined as

A medicinal compound once in wide use as an antidote to poisons. Treacle was a kind of salve. It was reputed to be a remedy against venomous bites in particular and against poisons in general. It also came to be considered a "cure" for cancer. [source]

In Henry Grosmont's 1354 treatise,  Le Livre de Seyntz Medicines or "The Book of Holy Medicines," he mentions theriac: "the treacle is made of poison so that it can destroy other poisons."

You may ask: if they believed it was so effective, wouldn't they try to make vast amounts to keep on hand? Would they try it as a cure for the Bubonic Plague? Well, one man thought that was a good idea, but ... well, we can talk about him next time.

Grosmont's Observations

The 1st Duke of Lancaster, Henry Grosmont, the wealthiest and most popular peer of the realm, wrote a book about his sins and the way to heal or atone for them using the metaphor of sin as sickness. This book, Le Livre de Seyntz Medicines or "The Book of Holy Medicines" also includes many autobiographical notes, as well as comments and observations that give us insight into the beliefs and culture of mid-14th century England.

Regarding the medical metaphors: we don't know that Grosmont himself had a large library, but his writing suggests a well-read man who could draw on other sources for his knowledge and ideas. Also, he would have had access to Leicester Abbey's library near his home, which at the time held at least 80 books on medicine. He also—as many nobles would— had a personal physician from Bologna from whom he would have learned much. (Bologna was known for training physicians, such as Jacob Mantino and Guy de Chauliac.)

His own physician probably gave him the information mentioned here that theriac is a good poison for driving out other poisons; however, if the patient is too far gone because of poison, theriac will only make things worse. He also offers the cure for delirium by slicing open a live young rooster and placing the cockerel on the patient's head.

During Grosmont's lifetime, Pope Urban V (whose personal physician was Guy de Chauliac) founded the medical University of Montpelier. One of its features was the collection of the bodies of executed criminals for dissection and research. Grosmont wishes his own soul could be opened up in this way to examine and understand his sin.

Some less medical or religious comments are about things like salmon. They understood that salmon are born in freshwater streams then head out to the ocean only to return to their streams to spawn. He expresses that a salmon born in a stream is not truly a salmon because it has not gone through its life cycle of stream-ocean-stream. He also tells us that goat's milk is ideally drunk in Spring, because the goat has only dined on new fresh plants at that time. Grosmont also offers a recipe for chicken soup, and how to know if a pomegranate is fresh.

In 1360, Grosmont was chief negotiator of the Treaty of Brétigny, ending a phase of the Hundred Years War. When he returned to England from the continent late in that year, he fell ill. Although only about 50 years old, he died on 23 March 1361. There was a resurgence of the Bubonic Plague that year, but it was not being noted until May, so we cannot attribute his death to it. He also wrote up a will 10 days before his death, so whatever prompted him to do so took longer to kill him than the Plague would. He was buried in the Church of the Annunciation of Our Lady of the Newarke ("New Work") in Leicester, which Grosmont had founded in 1354.

I am thinking that paragraph three above mentions something that would be unfamiliar to most readers. Tomorrow I'll explain theriac. See you then.

The Book of Holy Medicine

Unlike his contemporaries, Henry Grosmont was very forthcoming about his feelings about religion by writing an autobiographical treatise called Le Livre de Seyntz Medicines, "The Book of Holy Medicines" or "The Book of Holy Doctors."

Written in his early forties, in 1354, he employs the metaphor of his body as a castle and the Seven Deadly Sins as enemies entering through breaches in his defenses, making him ill. To combat this, he needs the services of a doctor in the person of Jesus Christ, who is accompanied by a nurse, the Virgin Mary.

Grosmont is willing in this work to lay bare all of his spiritual failings. As a younger man, he laments that he wishes he had "as much covetousness for the kingdom of heaven as I had for £100 of land" and that his body caused him to sin, as when his feet would bring him wine instead of being willing to go on a holy pilgrimage.

It is an unusual work in that it was written by a layman instead of a cleric or a mystic like, for example, Julian of Norwich or Margery Kempe. Whether it was written by Grosmont himself or he used a "ghost writer" or simply dictated it cannot be known for certain, but that he claimed it as his work is shown by a postscript (seen above, with the name marked in red):

Cest livre estoit comencee et parfaite en l'an de grace Nostre Seignur Jesu Crist MCCCLIIII. Et le fist un fole cheitif peccheour qe l'en appelle ERTSACNAL ED CUD IRNEH, a qi Dieux ses malfaitz pardoynt. Amen.

This book was begun and perfected in the year of grace of Our Lord Jesu Crist MCCCLIIII. And the fist is a foolish sinful sinner who calls him ERTSACNAL ED CUD IRNEH, to whom Gods forgive his misdeeds. Amen.

He humbly hides his name by writing backwards "Henri Duc de Lancastre" as the "fist," the hand that wrote it.

An argument against Grosmont merely hiring a writer to make himself look more pious is that his actions in life also demonstrated piety. He used his vast wealth to support churches and colleges and many clerics. Also, remember that Crusading was a religious act, not just about war. During a battle of the Hundred Years War, when the citizens of Bergerac begged for mercy, Grosmont is said to have replied "who prays for mercy shall have mercy."

Besides being a spiritual work, Le Livre de Seyntz Medicines also grants us a look into what the culture of 14th century England believed about the world. I'll talk more about that tomorrow, and Grosmont's end.

Henry Grosmont

Henry of Grosmont was a second cousin of King Edward III through their shared ancestry as great-grandsons of Henry III. Henry was the son of Henry, the 3rd Earl of Lancaster, and Maud Chaworth. Although one of seven children, he was the only male, and so inherited much more than he would have if he had brothers.

He was born about 1310 at Grosmont Castle in Wales. He referred to himself in his memoirs as tall, slim, and good-looking. During his youth his father—the wealthiest peer in England—was hostile to the excesses of Edward II; his youth must have been full of radical national events. His family's relationship to the Crown improved once Edward III was enthroned. In fact, Henry's father—although old and nearly blind—was chosen to ceremoniously knight Edward at the Coronation.

Henry was knighted the same year and, because of his father's increasing infirmity, represented his father in parliament and at the King's Council. He took over the management of his father's estates, including Bolingbroke Castle and the Savoy in London.

Henry and Edward III were only two years apart in age, which probably helped their personal relationship. Henry distinguished himself with Edward and on Edward's behalf in a dozen battles of the Hundred Years War, the Second War of Scottish Independence, as well as the "Northern Crusades" in the Baltics.

In 1345, Edward decided to attack France. As part of this campaign, Henry arrived at Bordeaux in August with 500 men-at-arms and 1500 archers (500 of the archers were mounted), as well as support troops. He was very successful at surprising the enemy with swift attacks: they were accustomed to the English setting up long, drawn-out sieges. While there, Henry's father died, making young Henry the Earl of Lancaster and the wealthiest peer of the realm. He also inherited the Barony of Halton (which would also pass to his son-in-law John of Gaunt, and then John's son Henry Bolingbroke, who would become King Henry IV).

In 1347, the king elevated Henry to the rare title of duke, in this case Duke of Lancaster. With the title he was granted palatinate powers, a condition available in England, Ireland, and Wales that allowed the person holding it to operate almost independently from the Crown.  This was an enormous amount of power for the king to "give away," but since Henry had no male heir, this seemed to be a gift to Henry that would not go further than his lifetime.

Edward also made Henry a founding member of the new Order of the Garter. 

Much of his life can be determined from his own writing. Tomorrow I'd like to talk about something he wrote: Le Livre de Seyntz Medicines, "The Book of Holy Medicine."

Pontefract Castle

Pontefract Castle, where Richard II was imprisoned by his cousin (although for a very short time), had been begun very shortly after William the Conqueror took over England. He gave lands in 1070 to Ilbert and Walter de Lacy, who followed him from Normandy. Ilbert began Pontefract Castle, represented here by a model. There was a wooden structure there originally, refurbished in stone over time. The Domeday Book on 1086 calls it "Ilbert's castle."

A later de Lacy, Robert, did not support Henry I in his struggle with his brother, so Henry confiscated the castle in the 1100s. Under Richard Lionheart, Roger de Lacy paid 3000 marks for the privilege of inhabiting the castle, but Richard still owned it. When Richard's brother John came to power, he awarded Roger's loyalty by giving him the castle. By this time it was being called Pontefract.

The de Lacy family lived there until the early 1300s, but Henry de Lacy had only one daughter, "Poor" Alice, who married Thomas, the 2nd Earl of Lancaster. Pontefract became a Lancaster possession now. Thomas backed the wrong horse in the never-ending conflict between kings and would-be kings. He was convicted of treason without being allowed to speak in his own defense and executed at Pontefract on 22 March 1322.

Pontefract then passed to Thomas' brother, Henry Grosmont, the 3rd Earl of Lancaster, who was politically more savvy and eventually became one of the most respected and land-wealthy nobles in England. With his death, Pontefract came to his son-in-law, John of Gaunt. John's son Henry Bolingbroke should have inherited it, but at John's death an annoyed Richard II kept it along with all the other properties that should have gone to Henry. Henry mounted a campaign to get back what was rightfully his, but it snowballed into an outright rebellion against Richard, who was deposed and held in the Tower of London for awhile before being sent to Pontefract for incarceration. Not long after, Richard was dead (we are told from starvation).

Richard III, after the death of King Edward IV, had two men beheaded at Pontefract: the son and brother of Edward's wife, Elizabeth Woodville. When Henry VIII accused his fifth wife, Catherine Howard, of adultery with Sir Thomas Culpeper, it was thought that the affair began when the king and queen were staying at Pontefract.

A parliament under Oliver Cromwell decided that Pontefract should be demolished and the materials re-used. Now it is possible to see the cellars, but some renovation has taken place.

Henry Grosmont was, as mentioned respected and wealthy, and his death was mourned throughout England. Let's talk about what made him special next time.

Henry IV and His Cousin

If Richard II had treated his cousin Henry Bolingbroke a little better, Richard might have stayed king for at least a few more decades. As it happened, Henry forced Richard to relinquish the crown (portrayed here by an anonymous 15th century artist). Richard was to be allowed to retire comfortably after Henry deposed him.

Unfortunately, several of the lords who had supported Richard—and been demoted under the new King Henry IV—planned to murder Henry and restore Richard. Their plot was foiled and the actors executed without trial, but it showed the danger in allowing Richard to be free and the focal point of rebellion.

He was incarcerated in Pontefract Castle around St. Valentine's Day 1400. The constable of Pontefract was Thomas Swynford, a son of Katherine Swynford's first marriage before she married Henry's father John of Gaunt. It is assumed that he died of starvation, possibly self-inflicted. On 17 February his body was displayed in St. Paul's Cathedral—we don't know when he really died, of course—and then interred on 6 March at King's Langley Priory, a Dominican establishment near one of the royal palaces in Hertfordshire. He was only 33.

Despite the public display of the body, there were always rumors that he was still alive. The Duke of Albany in Scotland hosted a man claiming to be Richard at Stirling Castle. He was the catalyst for conspiracy theories in England about Lancastrian intrigues and even some Lollard rumors. Henry's administration simply ignored the rumors right up to the man's death in 1419, but the Dominican friary in Stirling buried him as a king.

Henry IV's son became Henry V in March 1413, and felt the need to atone for his father's usurpation and treatment of Richard. In December of 1413 he re-interred Richard's body from King's Langley to Westminster Abbey as befitted a king of England. There was already a spot for him there, in the elaborate tomb he had made for himself and his wife, Anne of Bohemia.

Let's get away from kings and killing for a bit (well, not completely, as you will see), and talk about the history of Pontefract Castle. I hope you'll check back tomorrow.

Bolingbroke

Edward III of England had several sons. His eldest was also Edward, known as The Black Prince. Another was John of Gaunt. Prince Edward had a son named Richard. Prince John had a son named Henry Bolingbroke. When Edward III died, his heir was Richard, the son of his eldest who had predeceased him. John by that time was Duke of Lancaster, inheriting the title (and vast property) through his father-in-law.

John supported his nephew's accession to the throne, despite the fears of many (including many in parliament) that John might want to take the throne for himself; John was very powerful, wealthy, and shrewd. Richard and his uncle John did not always see eye-to-eye, nor Richard and parliament. John's son Henry had at one point been named a Lord Appellant, a group created to manage the kingdom and supervise Richard, who had become capricious. When Richard had opportunity, he exiled Henry Bolingbroke for 10 years.

On 3 February 1399, John of Gaunt died. Richard refused to allow the title Duke of Lancaster to his cousin Henry; rather, he extended Henry's exile from 10 years to his lifetime. There came a time that Richard had to go to Ireland to deal with a rebellion, at which point Henry Bolingbroke returned to England. He brought with him Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury who had been exiled by Richard as well. With a small military force and Arundel as an advisor, Henry started gathering support and confiscating land from anyone who did not wish to join him. Originally he claimed that he only wanted to get back his rights as Duke of Lancaster, but as he gathered support, anti-Richard sentiment grew.

Ultimately Henry had enough support to declare Richard deposed. Richard was imprisoned. Richard had an heir, the seven-year-old Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. He was bypassed and Bolingbroke was crowned Henry IV on 13 October 1399. Incidentally, it may have been the first time since 1066 that a king in England at his coronation addressed his subjects using English, not French.

Let's talk about the start of Henry IV's reign tomorrow, and what happened to Richard.

The Truce of Leulinghem

England and France were at war for a long time, and neither side was in great shape in the late 1380s. England had been unsuccessful in several military engagements and was in severe financial straits. Moreover, King Richard II and parliament were at odds over money and authority. In France, King Charles VI was showing signs of psychosis. (For much more on the Hundred Years War in this blog, click here.)

Neither side was able to achieve a definitive win that would establish rule over the other's country, no matter how hard they wanted one. They were each willing to try, however. Despite this, King Richard wanted to simply negotiate a truce, against the wishes of parliament and the Lords Appellant. Not thinking he would succeed, they allowed him to go to Calais and meet with Charles, which they did outside of Calais in the town of Leulinghem.

As it happens, representatives of the kings met and tentatively arranged a three-year truce, but when the two kings met they extended it to 27 years (although it only lasted 13). By claiming they were at peace, they stopped hostilities between Portugal and Castile in Iberia, who were supporting England and France respectively. England and France also agreed to a Crusade against Turks in the Balkans.

They also agreed to keep meeting to discuss further joint ventures, so when Richard's wife Anne died in 1396, negotiations began to wed Richard to Charles' daughter Isabella, uniting the two royal families. The fact that Isabella was born in 1389 and was therefore only seven years old did not bother anyone; such is the nature of royal marriages. The wedding took place on 31 October 1396:

A tearful Princess Isabelle, dressed in a blue velvet dress sewn with golden fleurs de lys and wearing a diadem of gold and pearls, was carried by the Dukes of Berry and Burgundy to Richard’s pavilion. She was taken away by a delegation of English ladies led by the Duchesses of Lancaster and Gloucester. Four days later, on 4 November 1396, she was brought to the church of St. Nicholas in Calais where Richard married her. She was five days short of her seventh birthday. Her dolls were included in her trousseau. [Sumption, Jonathan (2011). The Hundred Years War, Volume 3: Divided Houses. p.831]

The two countries also agreed on helping to end the Western Schism, but Richard backed out and France decided to seize Avignon to force an end. Richard used the lack of war with France to concentrate on dealing with his enemies at home, confiscating their properties to redistribute them to his favorites. This was simply more of the same egregious behavior that led to the Wonderful Parliament and the Merciless Parliament.

When Richard went to Ireland to deal with a rebellion by Irish chieftains, his enemies saw their chance to deal with him once and for all. By this time, his uncle John of Gaunt was dead and the title Duke of Lancaster had fallen to Gaunt's son, Henry Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke had been one of the Lords Appellant created by parliament to manage the king's excesses years earlier. Richard had managed to exile Bolingbroke, but his trip to Ireland gave Bolingbroke the opportunity to return.

After his return? History was made. I'll tell you about that next time.

Richard II and the Lords Appellant

Although the Wonderful Parliament in 1386 tried to curtail the excesses of King Richard II, it was the Merciless Parliament in 1388 that truly forced the king to accept that Magna Carta was no joke and the king did not have supreme authority in the kingdom and was answerable to the parliament. The parliament was requested by a small group called the Lords Appellant, and we should understand their role during this part of Richard's reign before we go on.

The Hundred Years War was still going on in 1386, and England had had two decades of losses. The Wonderful Parliament held Richard's favorites responsible for these military failures and for the egregious taxation used to fund the war. A group of trusted nobles was chosen to take over the management of the kingdom and the king, the Lords Appellant.

The Lords Appellant were:

• Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; Richard's uncle, who forced him to attend the Wonderful Parliament
• Richard Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel
• Thomas Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick
• Henry Bolingbroke, Earl of Derby (another nephew of Woodstock, being John of Gaunt's son)
• Thomas de Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham

They began their task right after the Wonderful Parliament ended, and the following year (1387) felt it necessary to launch an armed rebellion against Richard because one of his favorites, Robert de Vere, had raised an army for the king. (The illustration shows the Lords Appellant throwing their gauntlets down in front of Richard, but I cannot find an anecdote that explains this Victorian picture.)

In February 1388, the Merciless Parliament met to deal with Richard's favorites, de Vere and Michael de la Pole, Nicholas Brembre (who had been mayor of London several times), Chief Justice Robert Tresilian, and Alexander Neville (Archbishop of York). They were all accused of vice and swaying the king wrongly and lining their own pockets. As a prelate, Neville was only exiled after losing his position and all his estates and possessions, but everyone else was executed.

The executions did not stop there: dozens of members of the royal administration were purged. Finally they came to Simon Burley, who had been the king's father's advisor and was one of the king's regents when he was young. Burley was defended by Edmund Langley, the Duke of York, who was also a son of Edward III and therefore also Richard's uncle. Langley's brother, Thomas of Woodstock, rose to condemn Burley. Richard, who was in attendance of course, spoke up for the first time, and argued with his uncle Woodstock. Woodstock finally told him that he needed to stop defending his friends if he wanted to keep his crown. That made Richard sit back down.

One of the complaints about Richard was that he was a failure at the war with France, and was trying to negotiate a peace. Parliament (and the Lords) preferred military successes over a truce. Although Richard became effectively a puppet under the Lords Appellant, he managed to get revenge on the Lords and Parliament by the Truce of Leulinghem, but that's a story for tomorrow.

Richard II and the Wonderful Parliament

From October to November 1386, the Wonderful Parliament took place in Westminster Abbey. Its initial purpose was to discuss King Richard II's request for money (his uncle, John of Gaunt, was pushing for war with France as part of the Hundred Years War). In fact, a French fleet had been massing across the Channel in Flanders all summer, and the rumor of invasion was credible. Money had been spent to have 10,000 soldiers surround London for protection, and more was requested to prepare for war with France. The king's request would have brought a sum of £155,000—this would have been the largest tax in England's history, and Parliament was alarmed.

Other issues arose as well. Richard's marriage to Anne of Bohemia was supposed to bring her father, Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV, onto the English side. There did not seem to be much support from Charles, however, and the man who negotiated the marriage, Michael de la Pole, had been made chancellor a few years before and more recently made Earl of Suffolk. Also, Robert de Vere, 9th Earl of Oxford, had just been made Duke of Ireland. Richard's elevation of his favorites to such positions was very concerning to Parliament, who considered these men and others close to Richard to be out for themselves and inappropriate royal advisors.

Richard was going to absent himself from Parliament—he did not like being told what he could and could not do—but his uncle Thomas of Woodstock, the Duke of Gloucester, threatened him with being deposed if he did not attend.

Parliament considered de la Pole a bad chancellor and wanted him impeached. Richard was forced to get rid of his chancellor and deal in the future only with advisors approved by Parliament. He left Westminster and spent a year traveling the country, ignoring the advice of Parliament's approved advisors and trying to gather support for himself.

As for the French fleet, England got lucky: a rebellion in Ghent took their attention, and there was no invasion of England that season. Also in 1386, Gaunt left England to attempt his dream of succeeding to the throne of Castile. Parliament had never trusted him, assuming that he wanted the English throne himself. Richard was upset with him as well: Gaunt was the chief military leader, and the promise of claiming France did not materialize fast enough. Gaunt's wealth had often supported Richard's desires, but with Gaunt in Spain fighting his own battles, Richard had lost a source of support and felt deserted.

The rest of Richard's reign was going to be one long argument with Parliament about the extent of his power and autonomy. The Wonderful Parliament was considered even more damaging to him that the Merciless Parliament in 1388. That is our next stop on this brief tour of the life of Richard II.

Richard II, the Boy King

When King Edward III died on 21 June 1377, ideally his eldest son would have succeeded him. Unfortunately, Edward (called "The Black Prince") had died almost exactly one year before. History might look back and say the succession should have passed to the next available son, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and at the time probably the wealthiest man in England after the Crown. English royal succession didn't work that way, however, and the next in line was the son of young Edward.

That son, Richard of Bordeaux, was 10 years old. Parliament wanted to crown him as quickly as possible, fearing that Gaunt would try to usurp the throne. At his coronation on 16 July 1377, Archbishop of Canterbury Simon Sudbury put the crown on his head and the succession was set.

Normally, a king in his minority would have a regency council that included his uncles—who obviously knew a lot about the administration and defense of the realm—but Parliament feared Gaunt's influence, so others were chosen such as Sir Simon Burley and Robert de Vere, 9th Earl of Oxford.

From 1377 to 1381, little is heard from or about the new king. Regency councils are managing national affairs. It is with the Peasants Revolt of 1381 that Richard becomes more active in public, especially when at 14 he rides out to address the rebels personally.

In many ways he was an oddity. He had picked up some different mannerisms from his upbringing on the continent. One was the eyebrow-raising use of a piece of cloth made especially for dealing with sneezes and coughs. Another was that he did not know English. He was the last English king whose first language was French; Simon Burley was his tutor in the English language.

Months after the Revolt, he married Anne of Bohemia, daughter of Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV. This arrangement, negotiated by Michael de la Pole, was supposed to give England a powerful ally in its problems with France.

A few years later came a parliament called the Wonderful Parliament. Unfortunately for Richard, it wasn't wonderful for him. I'll explain that next time.

Katherine Swynford, Widow

After John of Gaunt died, in 1399, his third wife, Katherine Swynford, lost a lot of status. His health had been declining (he was approaching 60 years old), and in 1398 he had been expelled from England because he had displeased his nephew, King Richard II. On 3 February 1399, Gaunt made a detailed will, leaving all movable possessions (clothing, furniture, jewelry, etc.) to Katherine. He died the next day.

Immediately, the king's escheators (officers meant to keep track of where a decedent's inheritance goes) seized everything, including the Lancaster estates. She made a plea to the king in March, and got the estates returned, along with an annuity of £1000. Later, the king allowed her to keep the estates she had been given prior to marriage with Gaunt, but took the Lancastrian estates, since the king would have to find a new Duke of Lancaster. She gave the estates of Kettlethorpe and Colby (received from her first husband, Sir Hugh Swynford), to her only son from that marriage, Thomas as Swynford. She moved to a rented house in Lincoln, where she lived out the rest of her days.

All this took place in 1399. In the fall of that year, Gaunt's son Henry Bolingbroke (who had been exiled for life by Richard) returned to England, deposing Richard and crowning himself Henry IV. Katherine and Gaunt's children, the Beauforts, and Thomas Swynford supported Henry.

Although the new king referred to Katherine officially as "the Mother of the King," she did not return to court life, staying quietly in Lincoln and all but disappearing from history. In 1400 Henry gave her a new estate in Yorkshire, and £200 of the annual rents of Huntingdonshire, as well as an annuity of 700 marks (this was all in addition to the £1000 that had been assigned to her long ago by Gaunt). She had more than enough to live comfortably anywhere in the kingdom.

She died on 10 May 1403 and was buried in a tomb in Lincoln Cathedral (see the illustration). Made of fine marble and decorated with heraldic shields, with a carved likeness of her on top, it was topped with a brass canopy. The figure of her was partially damaged in 1644 during the English Civil War.

The king who exiled Gaunt and Bolingbroke, Richard II, has been mentioned many times, but not directly discussed. I'll tell you tomorrow about a king who was a boy who did not speak the language of the country he ruled.