Olga of Kiev, the Evil Saint

We touched on the Christianization of Kievan Rus when talking about the Varangian Guard. This Christianization did not happen all at once. Something was happening by 867, when Photius, the Patriarch of Constantinople, said that the Rus were taking to Christianity with enthusiasm. Still, other historical sources are clear that paganism was still strong in the following century. Still, when ruler Vladimir the Great was baptized some time in the 980s, bringing his family and all of Kiev with him, it is fair to say that the place was "officially" Christian.

That does not mean, however, that everyone immediately became a gentle, "turn the other cheek" follower of the Golden Rule.

Igor I of Kiev ruled Kievan Rus from 912 until his death in 945 during the Drevlian Uprising. The Drevlians were a Slavic group with a wide territory, and they wanted Igor's wife Olga to marry their leader, Prince Mal, so that he would become king of the Rus. Olga intended to became regent for her son, Sviatoslav the Brave, and wanted nothing to do with Prince Mal. When an embassy of 20 men were sent from Mal to persuade her, she made an elaborate plan.

She had a large trench dug in her hall, and had her people carry the 20 men in the boat they came with into the hall as a show of honor to the Drevlians. She then had the boat dropped into the trench and had them buried alive.

She then sent a message to Mal that she would marry him, but he had to show her honor and persuade her people that this was the right decision by sending his best and most impressive nobles as her escort to Mal. When this new and aristocratic assemblage reached Olga's court, she offered them a fancy building to bathe and clean themselves up after their journey. Once they were inside, she secured the building and set fire to it.

She then asked that the Drevlians prepare a funeral feast so that she might mourn her husband, and she would come to them; when they were drunk, her army slew 5000 Drevlians, then returned to Kiev to expect an attack.

The Drevlians were done: they offered terms of surrender. Olga told them she would accept three pigeons and three sparrows from each household, an easy tribute. The people were glad to get off so lightly, and delivered the birds. Olga instructed her men to attach with thread to each bird a small piece of sulphur wrapped in cloth. At night, the birds were released, whereupon they flew back to their nests in the houses from which they came. The houses were set on fire, and the fire spread so quickly that there was no chance to save anything.

Her feast day is today, 11 July.

That's right: she's a saint. As one of the first of the Kievans to be baptized, and for spreading Christianity so diligently (one wonders what tools of persuasion she used), she was named a saint. She failed, however, to convert her son; Vladimir I, who made the Kievan Rus' conversion "official," was her grandson.

Curbing the Pope

19th century bust of Arnold.

For those in the Middle Ages who thought the pope should be solely a spiritual leader and not wield temporal authority, Arnold of Brescia was their most ardent spokesperson. A short-lived 12th century Christian sect even named themselves "Arnoldists" after him; they lost credibility—condemned in 1184 at the Synod of Verona along with Cathars and Waldensians—when they also dared to preach against baptism and communion.

Arnold was born about 1190, in Lombardy in northern Italy. He joined the Augustinians, whose frugal ways clashed with the activities of the increasingly powerful popes. He supposedly studied at the University of Paris under Peter Abelard. Arnold and Abelard both were outspoken about the temporal power of the papacy, but they lost the debate at the Synod of Sens in 1141. Abelard gave in, but Arnold kept up his vocal condemnation of the popes. He was condemned by Pope Innocent II (mentioned here and here), and fled to Zurich.

After Innocent's death, Arnold reconciled with Pope Eugene III, but when he returned to Italy and found that Rome had changed its political structure and refused to allow Eugene to return, Arnold sided with Rome and quickly rose to a position of authority (rather counter to what he objected to about the papacy). He preached that priests who owned property gave up their qualifications to administer the sacraments.

Eugene in exile excommunicated Arnold, but even when Eugene managed to return to Rome, Arnold continued to wired political power in opposition to papal policies.

The next pope, Adrian IV, was not as mild-mannered and easily pushed around as Eugene: he took control of Rome in 1155 with the help of Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa and forced Arnold into exile, where he was picked up by Barbarossa's forces and forced into a trial. He refused to renounce any of his positions—even when faced with execution—and he was hanged for rebellion (not heresy, curiously) in June 1155. His body was burned and the ashes thrown into the Tiber River to prevent his tomb from becoming a focal point for sympathizers who would consider him a holy martyr.

The Homeless Pope

Hugh of Jabala tells Pope Eugene about Prester John

Many of you know about the decades when the papacy was headquartered in Avignon (finally returned to Rome by Gregory XI). But not all popes outside of the Avignon situation enjoyed the benefits of Roman living.

Bernardo of Pisa was a Cistercian monk and a close friend of Bernard of Clairvaux. He became Pope Eugene III in 1145, mostly because no one else wanted the job. Ironically, his election probably had a lot to do with being a friend of Bernard of Clairvaux, who at the time was one of the strongest voices for Christianity and was a strong proponent of the pope's authority to wield temporal power; I call it ironic, because Bernard objected to his friend being made pope because he was too mild-mannered and would not be assertive enough as pope.

Eugene had a transient papacy. He left the City to be consecrated in the Abbey of Farfa, in the northern part of Lazio (the region at the center of which lies Rome). While he was gone, Arnold of Brescia (an opponent of the pope's temporal power) convinced the City to change its political structure and shut its gates to the pope.

Italy at the time (and right up through the 18th century) was not a unified country so much as a peninsula with different regions and city-states that eyed each other as competitors or even enemies. Eugene turned to Tivoli (near Rome) and other cities and to Roger II of Sicily to join him in opposing Rome.

He was able to return to Rome, but shortly after angered the citizens by not agreeing to fight Tivoli, and he was exiled again. He traveled to other cities, and then to France where he held synods in the late 1140s. Returning to Italy in 1149, he fled to Tusculum shortly after and stayed there until 1150, after meeting King Louis VII of France and his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, who were returning from Crusade. With Roger of Sicily's help he was able to return to Rome, but pressure made him retire soon after.

While sojourning through parts of Italy and souther Europe, he managed to see and approve of the works of Hildegard of Bingen. The legend of Prester John started with a report made to Pope Eugene from Bishop Hugh of Jabala.

As much as he tried to do, however, most of it was done while "on the road," and he had little time to enjoy his title of "Bishop of Rome."

Born to the Purple

Eastern façade of the Boukoleon Palace, facing the Sea.

"Born to the purple." You may have heard the phrase before; it denotes someone royally born, who will one day rule. In the Middle Ages, of course, there was no guarantee that a royal child would survive to reach the throne. That was okay: the phrase "born to the purple" was not used cavalierly: it was only for special cases—very special cases.

The post on the Varangian Guard mentioned Emperor Basil II, sometimes called Porphyrogenitus.* In Greek it would look like Πορφυρογέννητος, and it literally means "born to the purple." It specifically denoted a legitimate child—either son or daughter—who was born to a sitting Emperor. Anna Comnena (1083 - 1153)—mentioned here and here—described the conditions necessary for this special status.

Not only did your father need to be currently a ruler of the Byzantine Empire, but you needed to be born in a special room in the palace. The Porphyry ("Purple") was a chamber—more of a free-standing pavilion—on a terrace of the Imperial Palace in Constantinople. It was a perfect cube whose roof held a pyramid. If you were not born in the Porphyry, you could not use the title Porphyrogenitus. From Anna's description in The Alexiad, the chamber had "stone oxen and lions" and faced the Sea of Marmora, so it is likely to have been the Boukoleon Palace. She tells us it was decorated in purple with white spots.

Being a Porphyrogenitus like Basil II or (in Anna's case) a Porphrogenita did not mean you were going to be a better ruler; in fact, it was no guarantee that you would every rule at all. It did give you a certain touch of class, useful for diplomatic relations, such as marrying a Porphyrogenita off to a foreign head of state.

*He was also called "Basil the Young" so as to not confuse him with Basil I, and "Basil Bulgaroctonus" (Greek: "Basil, Slayer of the Bulgars"), but that's not important right now.

Vikings in Constantinople

An 11th-century depiction of Varangian Guards.

In recent posts on the 4th Crusade and the Siege of Constantinople, I mentioned the Varangian Guard beating back the Crusaders temporarily. The Varangian Guard were, essentially, Vikings who made their way to the Mediterranean and became mercenaries. Their name comes from the Old Norse Væringjar, from the word var which meant "pledge"; thus, they were "pledged men"; the Greeks turned this name into Βάραγγοι or Varangoi.

It was Emperor Basil II (958 - 1025), sometimes called "Basil the Young" or "Porphyrogenitus," who first hired them in 988, after their Kievan Rus homeland was Christianized. Basil received 6000 Varangians from Vladimir I of Kiev, which he preferred over local men whose loyalties might attach them to other aristocrats and would-be emperors if circumstances favored such a switch.

Viking runes in the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople.

Service in the Byzantine Empire was so attractive that men from all the Scandinavian countries considered it a good career move. Sweden even made a law that declared no Varangian serving in Byzantium could inherit without returning back home.

Varangians became very popular as mercenaries in Kievan Rus and even in England—but only for a short time, from 1018-1066: they did not help to turn the tide when William of Normandy came to claim the throne.

In Byzantium, they operated at least through the middle of the 14th century. Still, they left their mark on Constantinople in more ways than one. Some runic inscriptions have survived, placed their by Varangians. One was even carved in the Hagia Sophia.

500

This is the 500th post on the Daily Medieval blog. In its honor, let us look at the year 500 CE and how it overlaps some of the previous 499  posts.

500 was a leap year. January 1st was a Saturday. July 4th was a Tuesday.

It was the birth year of Gildas, a monk, who wrote the De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae ["On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain"], a chief source of history for early Britain, although much is called into question. A life of St. Gildas written later by a friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth makes Gildas out to be a contemporary of King Arthur, and yet Gildas never mentions him. He does mention the Battle of Mount Badon, for which 500 is a possible date.

It is the year that Clovis I pursues King Gundobad of the Burgundians after a military engagement, forcing him to pay annual tribute.

It is the approximate date of the formation of the Kingdom of the Franks, that reached a high point a few centuries later with the family of Charles Martel.

It is the approximate birthdate of Aregund, whose jewelry provided an impressive grave excavation.

It is the birthdate of the Byzantine historian Procopius, from whom we learn how the West got the secret of silk from Nestorian monks.

500 was, of course, only the year according to the Julian calendar.
For the Romans, it was 1253 Abs urbis condita ["from the city's founding"].
Jews considered it the year 4260-61.
The Byzantines numbered years from the founding of the world, 5509 years before Christ, so to them it was 6008-09 (the year started on 1 September).

Thanks for reading!

Catapults, Mangonels, Trebuchets

The post on the siege of Zara mentioned using a mangonel being used to attack the walls with stones. As you can imagine, a mangonel was a form of catapult. Catapults of various kinds were used during war from at least the 4th century BCE right up to World War I (where they were used to throw grenades into trenches at a distance).

According to the Greek historian Diodorus Siculus (who wrote in the 1st century BCE), the Greeks were using a device he called a catapult (from Greek καταπέλτης [katapeltēs] meaning "to throw across/against") to fire arrows to greater distances. This makes it similar to a giant crossbow. Most devices that fall into the catapult category throw things other than arrows.

The mangonel specifically used a large bucket at the end of an arm in order to throw stones. The arm, anchored at its other end,  is pulled back to create tension. This is different from a trebuchet, which uses a counterweight at the other end to create the throwing force.

Whereas the word "catapult" has a clear meaning and "trebuchet" is from Old French trebucher, "to overthrow," there is no clear origin for the word "mangonel." It may be called that because of mangon, a hard stone found in southern France. It may be from Greek mágganon, "engine of war." The mangonel was sometimes called an onager, the name for a wild ass, because when fired it "kicked and bucked" like a wild ass.

Besides stones, the enemy could be attacked by throwing burning logs, manure, rotting flora or fauna, quicklime (good for treating soil, bad for humans), and the bodies of defeated enemies.

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 4

[see Part 1 here and Part 2 here, the intermezzo, and Part 3 here]

With former Emperor Isaac II Angelos dead at the end of January 1204, his deposed son Emperor Alexios IV Angelos turned to the Crusaders, asking for help. But they had been through this before, and Alexios had not honored on all his promises.

Imperial chamberlain Alexios Doukas proclaimed himself Emperor Alexios V—the citizens accepted him—and strangled Alexios IV. He then tried to get the Crusaders to leave his empire. In March of 1204, the Venetians and Crusaders decided there was no way to achieve a happy outcome without simply attacking Constantinople and taking what they wanted. Siege and military actions lasted from the end of March until 12 April, when several dozen Crusaders managed to breach the walls and allow some of their comrades in. A fire they started burned down a large section of the city. That night, Alexios V fled.

Three days of pillaging commenced, destroying or damaging or stealing countless works of art. Thousands of citizens were killed. The great Library of Constantinople was destroyed. The Hagia Sophia was desecrated. A contemporary Byzantine chronicler says:

Nor can the violation of the Great Church be listened to with equanimity. For the sacred altar, formed of all kinds of precious materials and admired by the whole world, was broken into bits and distributed among the soldiers, as was all the other sacred wealth of so great and infinite splendor.
When the sacred vases and utensils of unsurpassable art and grace and rare material, and the fine silver, wrought with gold, which encircled the screen of the tribunal and the ambo, of admirable workmanship, and the door and many other ornaments, were to be borne away as booty, mules and saddled horses were led to the very sanctuary of the temple. Some of these which were unable to keep their footing on the splendid and slippery pavement, were stabbed when they fell, so that the sacred pavement was polluted with blood and filth. [link]

Many of the priceless works of art wound up in Venice. For Venice and for Doge Enrico Dandolo, this was sweet revenge for an incident between Constantinople and Venice 30 years earlier, when Venetians in the city had all their property confiscated.

The Byzantine Empire was divided between Venice and the Crusading force, who elected Baldwin of Flanders to be their emperor. The upper classes and royalty of Constantinople fled the city; some of hem set up their own small kingdoms, in Epirus and Nicaea and Trebizond.

The thought that the Empire and therefore the Eastern Orthodox Church was now in the hands of the West so pleased Pope Innocent III that he lifted the excommunication placed on the Crusaders for having attacked and killed Christians. It would be 800 years before a Pope (John Paul II) would apologize for the tragedy, and for a Patriarch of Constantinople (Bartholomew I) to accept the apology.

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 3

[see Part 1 here and Part 2 here, and the preface to today's here]

So the Crusade left in spring of 1203 to sail to Constanbtinople, to demand that the usurper, Emperor Alexios III Angelos, relinquish the throne to his predecessor, Isaac II Angelos. With the Crusaders was the son of the blinded and imprisoned Isaac, Alexios IV Angelos, who had offered the sun and moon for their help to eliminate Alexios III.

Of course Constantinople saw them coming and was prepared, its army lining the shore where the crusader ships landed. The Crusader cavalry surprised the Byzantine army, which ran away a short distance before turning back and fighting at the Tower of Galata. This was a strategic point for Constantinople. A huge harbor called The Golden Horn was the chief access to sea-level Constantinople; the entrance to the Golden Horn was blocked by a chain stretched between two towers. Once the Crusading army conquered the Tower of Galata (which they did), the chain was lowered and the fleet had ready access to the city.

Still, the walls were strong and the city gates shut. The Crusaders showed Alexios IV to the citizens on the walls, saying "Here's your king!" For Constantinople, however, Alexios III had ruled since 1195 and not done such a bad job that they couldn't forgive his his unorthodox rise to the throne. They saw no need for Alexios III, or to release Isaac II from prison.

The Crusaders laid siege to the city on 17 July, attacking the walls from land and sea. Although defended ably by the Varangian Guard, the advances made by the Crusaders prompted Alexios III to flee to Thrace; the city released Isaac II and re-proclaimed him Emperor. The Crusaders forced Isaac to name his son emperor, and Alexios IV was put on the throne.

It was time for Alexios IV to make good on his promise to help the Crusade. According to one chronicler:

After he had been crowned the barons demanded their pay. He said he would very willingly pay what he could and at that time he paid 100,000 marks. Of this sum the Venetians -received one-half; for they were to receive one-half of the conquests. Of the 50,000 which remained, 36,000, which the Franks still owed for the vessels, were paid to the Venetians. And all those who had advanced money to pay for the passage were paid out of the 14,000 marks which the pilgrims had left. [Robert de Clari, Chroniques]

Then, like at Zara, the Crusaders settled in for several months to await the preparations for the rest of Alexios' promised aid. During this time, tensions between East and West, between Greeks and Latins, ran high. The locals blamed Alexios for bringing these Crusaders into their midst. Then, in January of 1204, Isaac II died. Perhaps it was only respect for the Emperor of a decade ago that held the city in check; whatever the case, the citizens no longer looked favorably on Alexios IV. Alexios was deposed during riots, so naturally he turned to the Crusaders for help again, with complicated results.

[to be continued]

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Intermezzo

[see Part 1 here and Part 2 here]

[Meanwhile, In Constantinople...]

Alexios IV

Emperor Alexios III Angelos (c.1153-1211) overthrew his brother, Emperor Isaac II Angelos (1156-1204) in 1195; not your usual way to achieve the throne, but since Isaac had taxed his people heavily in order to start a war with Bulgaria that turned out to be a waste of resources, the army was glad to call Alexios "Emperor." Isaac was blinded and imprisoned in Constantinople. His son, Alexios IV Angelos, was also imprisoned.

In 1201, Alexios IV was smuggled out and taken to Germany, where his brother-in-law, Philip of Swabia, was king (Philip had married Irene Angelina, daughter of Isaac II). While in Germany, he met Boniface of Montferrat.

Boniface had been elected leader of the 4th Crusade. Of course, the financial troubles of the Crusade meant that they were indebted to Venice, whose Doge Enrico Dandolo had been made leader. In the winter of 1202-3, while the Crusading army was staying in Zara, Boniface went to visit Philip of Swabia, who was his cousin.

Alexios poured out his story of betrayal and exile, and made Boniface an offer: bring the Crusade through Constantinople, use its might to depose the usurper, and Alexios would promise him 10,000 soldiers, 500 knights to hold the Holy Land once the Crusade was successful, and enough money to pay off the debt to Venice and get out from under their control. Boniface might have been more wary of deals that seemed too good to be true, but Alexios threw in something that a Western Christian could not resist: he would make the Eastern Orthodox Church answerable to the Pope in Rome.

Boniface was thrilled, and took the offer, along with Alexios, back to Zara to present him to the army.  The army went for it, as did Dandolo. Remember that Venice was due 50% of any "spoils of war"; a potential war with Constantinople could produce a lot of spoils. Come Easter, the army set off, not for the Holy Land, but for Constantinople.

[to be continued]

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 2

[see Part 1 here]

From Venice to Zara, and later to Constantinople

Those members of the 4th Crusade who went to Venice were lodged on the island called St. Nicholas. When it was discovered that they did not have enough money to fulfill their part of the contract with Venice, they were stuck on St. Nicholas until some agreement was reached. According to the chronicle of Geoffrey de Villehardouin, Doge Enrico Dandolo said to his people:

"The King of Hungary has taken from us Zara in Sclavonia [...]; and never shall we recover it with all the power that we possess, save with the help of these people. Let us therefore ask them to help us to reconquer it, and we will remit the payment of the debt of 34,000 marks of silver, until such time as it shall please God to allow us to gain the moneys by conquest, we and they together." [source]

There was a great deal of disagreement over this among the Crusaders—Simon de Montfort was one voice in opposition—although it was finally ratified. There were two major objections against it: 1) it was a distraction from the crucial major goal, and 2) Zara was a Christian city; to attack it when your purpose was to fight heretics was outrageous!

The Doge then increased the stakes. At a Mass at St. Mark with Venetians and Crusaders present, Enrico Dandolo (who was at least in his 80s, and blind) swore to join them and take up the Cross if they consented to let him be their leader. The Crusaders accepted gladly, and more Venetians joined the Crusade.

The Crusading force sailed to Zara, and set up a siege. Certain leaders of Zara came to the Doge and said they would hand over the city if their lives were spared. Dandolo said he would discuss these terms with the rest of the Crusade; while he did, Villehardouin tells us that the Crusading faction that was opposed to fighting Christians told the Zarans that the Crusade would never attack a Christian city, and they could resist in safety. Also, the Abbot of Vaux (a Crusader) forbade the army from attacking Zara.

But attack they did. Dandolo was enraged that he had a deal with Zara that was foiled by others.  The siege brought up mangonels and other weapons. They pelted the walls and towers with stones for five days, and had sappers start on one wall and a tower.* This was enough to motivate Zara to surrender.

By this time winter was approaching, and the Doge decided they should stay in Zara until spring. There were troubles in Zara, between the different nationalities, but that is not part of our narrative. What must be mentioned is that Pope Innocent III excommunicated the Crusaders for attacking a Christian city.

The worst is yet to come. To understand it, however, we must turn aside to a case of royal family strife in Constantinople. [to be continued]

*Sappers would dig under a structure to cause it to collapse; sometimes they employed explosives.

The (Disastrous) 4th Crusade, Part 1

The Kingdom of Jerusalem, established after the First Crusade by Europeans, had been re-conquered by Saladin in 1187. Much of that was reclaimed by the Third Crusade (1189-1192), but Jerusalem itself eluded recapture. This was a problem for Europeans.

The Doge of Venice makes an offer to the 4th Crusade

In 1198, Pope Innocent III began his papacy with the preaching of a new crusade. At first, no one was rushing to join. England and France were busy fighting each other, Germany was opposed to recent papal overreach, and it was only a few years since the last Crusade—people were tired, and Crusades took energy and money. Innocent had an ally in the charismatic Fulk of Neuilly (about whom we know almost nothing outside of this sentence), who preached the Crusade and drew several to it, including Simon de Montfort, 5th Earl of Leicester.

Moving thousands of men, servants, supplies, et cetera, takes a lot of ships, and a handful of men were sent to the Mediterranean coast to negotiate for ships to transport the Crusading army to the Holy Land. Geoffrey de Villehardouin, one of the six envoys, wrote a lengthy chronicle telling the story. In Venice, they put their need before Doge Enrico Dandolo and the Venetian council, and received this answer:

"We will build transports to carry 4500 horses, and 9000 squires, and ships for 4500 knights, and 20,000 sergeants of foot. And we will agree also to purvey food for these horses and people during nine months. This is what we undertake to do at the least, on condition that you pay us for each horse four marks, and for each man two marks.
"And the covenants we are now explaining to you, we undertake to keep, wheresoever we may be, for a year, reckoning from the day on which we sail from the port of Venice in the service of God and of Christendom. Now the sum total of the expenses above named amounts to 85,000 marks.
"And this will we do moreover. For the love of God, we will add to the fleet 50 armed galleys on condition that, so long as we act in company, of all conquests in land or money, whether at sea or on dry ground, we shall have the half, and you the other half. Now consult together to see if you, on your parts, can accept and fulfil these covenants." [source]

The envoys agreed to these terms, and returned to France to inform the leaders of the Crusade of their success. The army was gathered and a start date was set for the following year.

According to Geoffrey, a large number of Crusaders went, not to Venice, but to the port of Marseille, or Genoa, or other ports. (To be honest: Marseille makes sense if you're starting out in France; why have to cross the Alps and go to Venice?) Perhaps the envoys should have haggled for a lower price for transports; after all, Venice was going to get half of any spoils of war.

Whatever the case, when the Crusaders arrived in Venice, there were not as many as advertised, and they could only gather 35,000 marks, a far cry from the 85,000 of the contract. They had been assembled on the island of St. Nicholas to avoid the overcrowding and potential problems of having thousands of strangers on the streets of Venice, but this effectively made them captives of Venice. Venice did not want to cancel the contract: they would lose all the money they had invested, and Venice' reputation might suffer. They had to come up with a solution that allowed the Crusaders to continue on their journey and that was financially satisfactory for Venice.

...and that's exactly what they did. [to be continued]

Simon de Montfort

Plaque on the site of Montfort's death

Simon de Montfort has been mentioned before, opposing Henry III, but that was the 6th Earl of Leicester. The Simon de Montfort we want to talk about today was his father, the 5th Earl.

Simon was born in 1160, succeeding his father as Baron de Montfort in 1181. In 1199, while taking part in a tournament, he heard Fulk of Neuilly preaching the 4th Crusade and decided to "take up the Cross" along with his brother, Guy (who had been on the 3rd Crusade already), and Count Theobald de Champagne.

Certain actions of the 4th Crusade were not to his liking, however. For one thing, on behalf of Venice and at the direction of Doge Enrico Dandolo, the Crusade was diverted to attack the city of Zara—a Christian city—on the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea. Montfort was opposed to this, and the "mismanagement" of the Crusade; he chose to break away from the main Crusading body. In the words of a contemporary chronicler who was with the 4th Crusade:

Then there befell an adventure which weighed heavily upon the host; for one of the great barons of the host, by name Simon of Montfort, had made private covenant with the King of Hungary, who was at enmity with those of the host, and went to him, abandoning the host. With him went Guy of Montfort his brother, [...], and the abbot of Vaux, who was a monk of the order of the Cistercians, and many others. And not long after another great lord of the host, called Enguerrand of Boves, joined the King of Hungary, together with Hugh, Enguerrand's brother, and such of the other people of their country as they could lead away.
These left the host, as you have just heard; and this was a great misfortune to the host, and to such as left it a great disgrace. [Chronicle of the Fourth Crusade, Geoffrey de Villehardouin]

Geoffrey probably had personal reasons for declaring this a disgrace (some of the mismanagement of the Crusade can be laid squarely at his feet), but Montfort clearly could not countenance a Crusading army attacking Christians. Neither could Pope Innocent III, who excommunicated the attackers' actions.*

Montfort was a supporter of the new Dominican order, having known its founder Dominic Guzman, and a devout Christian. After returning to Europe, Montfort was instrumental in the Albigensian Crusade in 1209, a war against the Cathars. (The Cathars were considered heretics for some of their unorthodox ideas.) He was a good tactician and a ruthless leader, willing to carry out orders from the Church no matter how harsh, such as when in 1210 he had 140 Cathars burned alive at Château de Minerve, a Cathar stronghold.

For his efforts, King Philip Augustus granted him the lands of Raymond of Toulouse, who was in Aragon. The difficulty was that Toulouse did not want to be handed over to someone else, so Montfort needed to besiege Toulouse in order to take control. After nine months of siege, Montfort was killed by a rock to the head thrown by a type of catapult called a mangonel.

He died on 25 June 1218, 796 years ago today.

*We will look at the 4th Crusade a little more tomorrow.

Enrico Dandolo

This past Saturday, the 21st of June, was the anniversary of the death of Enrico Dandolo, the 42nd Doge of Venice. His tenure as Doge had great significance for Venice, and had disastrous consequences for Constantinople.

Born about 1107, he had a successful career as a diplomat who came to true prominence in 1171 when Constantinople imprisoned all Venetians and confiscated their property. The Doge at the time, Doge Vitale II Michiel, gathered a force to attack Constantinople, but the plan failed when plague in 1172 killed many in the expedition. Michiel was killed on his return to Venice by the angry citizenry, but the returning Enrico Dandolo was made ambassador to Constantinople. A treaty was finally brokered in 1186, but the enmity between Venice and Constantinople remained, as we shall see.

In 1192, Dandolo became the 42nd Doge. By this time, he was in his 80s* and blind—one contemporary chronicler (Geoffrey de Villehardouin) claimed it was due to a head wound—but his cleverness made him the popular choice, and his actions over the next decade justified it. He reformed Venetian currency, creating new coins of different denominations. One coin, the grosso, was consistently minted with 98.5% pure silver, making it a reliable standard for trade in the Mediterranean and increasing the economic prestige of Venice.

His biggest impact on history, however, came during the 4th Crusade. In the next few posts we will take a look at the 4th Crusade and why it went horribly wrong.

*This is an assumption; one scholar believes he has clear evidence for 1107 as the year of Dandolo's birth, but the level of activity he showed after becoming Doge prompts some to think he must have been a younger man.

The Doge of Venice

Doxe de Venexia.
Doge di Venezia.
The Doge of Venice.

The title is based on the Latin dux ["military leader"], from which the word "duke" comes. The Doge was not a hereditary position, but was elected for life (unless circumstances led to being forcibly ejected from the position), usually from the pool of very smart elders.

The Chronicon Venetum ["Chronicle of Venice"] by John the Deacon says the first Doge was elected about 700 as part of Venice's development as a Republic and to oversee the rivalries between the tribunes (the small number of elected positions that shared the rule of Venice). The first Doge was Paolo Lucio Anafesto (697-717) (but there is a lot of doubt as to the accuracy of this; that name is known to be the same as the Exarchate [ruler] of Ravenna.)

Some notable Doges:
Agnello Participazio (811-827), who was exiled to Zara by his son, Giustiniano, who became Doge
Pietro IV Candiano (959-976), who gave himself special privileges and powers with the support of Otto I, but lost that protection after Otto died, and found himself locked in his palace by the citizens of Venice, who then set fire to it.
Pietro II Orseolo (991-1009), who expanded Venice's influence eastward, freeing Venice from 50 years of taxation imposed by the Narentines on the east coast of the Adriatic Sea; he married the niece of Pietro IV Orseolo, Maria Candino, who became his dogaressa.

There were 120 Doges in all, the final one being Ludovico Manin (1789-1797), who was forced out of the role (never to be replaced) by Napoleon.

But the shrewdest old Doge of them all may have been the 42nd, Enrico Dandolo, who took over a Crusade and used at as a weapon for his own purposes. That's a story for tomorrow.