Amalric and Philip

One of the reasons King Amalric of Jerusalem wanted Philip of Milly to be Grand Master of the Templars, especially after the death of Bertrand de Blanchefort, was because Bertrand had refused to join Amalric's military expeditions into Egypt in 1168 and Philip did. Amalric and Philip had a relationship going back before Philip joined the Templars. Let me explain.

When King of Jerusalem Baldwin II died (c.1075 - 21 August 1131), he granted the kingdom to his eldest daughter's (and his son-in-law's, and his infant grandson's) hands. Her name was Melisende, and she is the first female ruler of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. She had a reputation (according to William of Tyre) for wisdom and Christian charity. (The illustration is of her coronation.)

She was married to Fulk of Anjou who, as king by marriage, tried to rule without her involvement. Melisende's cousin Count Hugh of Jaffa led a rebellion to ensure Melisende's pre-eminence, after which she had so much power that she was able to reduce Fulk's ability to do anything without her agreement. When Fulk died (10 November 1143), she and her son Baldwin III ruled. Prior to Fulk's death, however, the couple had another son, Amalric, born in 1136.

Baldwin III (1130 - 10 February 1163) was only a teenager, and Melisende held the reins of the kingdom firmly in her hands, not even allowing him more authority when he came of age in 1145. The High Court decided in 1152 that it was unfair for Baldwin III (who was an heir named by his grandfather, after all) to be left with nothing, therefore the kingdom should be divided between mother and son. Melisende was granted the southern part of the kingdom, including Nablus on the West Bank, Palestine.

This solution actually inspired Baldwin to besiege his mother in the Tower of David to grab the whole kingdom. As his forces advanced on her location, many of her lords deserted her, but not all. Her most loyal, who remained with her, included her son Amalric and Philip of Milly, Lord of Nablus. Fulk had prevented Philip from inheriting his father's title in Nablus; Philip had only come into his own once Melisende took over from Fulk the complete running of the kingdom. 

She agreed to relinquish power; she went to Nablus. Philip was loyal to Melisende, and her son Amalric and Philip had been through some harrowing times together. When Amalric as king invaded Egypt, the Templars under Bertrand refused to join him, but Philip, who had joined the Templars in 1166, personally went with his friend. When Bertrand died, the King of Jerusalem Amalric I ensured that his loyal friend would become head of the Order that now Amalric could call on for military support.

For something different now, what was the Tower of David in which she took refuge? Was it called that originally, or appropriated from a Muslim structure? We can take a look at it tomorrow.

Philip of Milly

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

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

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

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

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

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

Templars: The Early Days

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uncle and Nephew, Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By the time André received this, Bernard was gone.

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

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

Bernard's Endorsement

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uncle and Nephew, Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

His Mother Was a Saint

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bernard Comes and Goes

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Road to the Cistercians

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who Were the Cistercians?

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

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

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

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

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

Medieval Dyes, Part 2

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medieval Dyes, Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'll share the sources of more colors tomorrow.

Genoese Blue Jeans

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

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

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

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

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

I think we should talk more about medieval dyes next

Genoa Grows

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Fatimids Sack Genoa

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Genoa the Superb

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

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

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

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

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

Valencia Later

After all the political turmoil, Valencia was possessed by James I of Aragon. He forced tens of thousands of Muslims to leave. There were Jews in Valencia, and in 1239 they were given their own quarter in which to live, with a cemetery for Jews on the outskirts. In 1390, this quarter had a high wall erected around its perimeter, with the cemetery still outside. The wall had three gates which were closed each night.

The wall, designed to help Christians feel "safe" from Jewish presence, did not prevent a pogrom in 1391. A parade of Christian youths marched to the Jewish quarter, claiming that Jews should be baptized or die. Thousands of Jews were murdered by the crowd; some converted; the Jewish quarter was destroyed.

Of course, no matter how wealthy or poor, free or conquered, Christian or Muslim or Jewish a European or Mediterranean country could be, sooner or later in the Middle Ages the Bubonic Plague came along. Plague came to the Iberian Peninsula in the spring of 1348, reducing the population of Spain (it is estimated) from 6,000,000 to under 2,500,000.

The Plague returned in waves. It was back again in March 1395; on 6 July the city council of Valencia met to determine how to combat the problem. Charitable donations were suggested to please God (whose anger was the ultimate source of their distress), and a procession to the chapel of Our Lady of Mercy was organized to ask for divine mercy. Funds were authorized for the removal of dead animals that had been thrown into the streets.

Something entirely different was also happening in Valencia that decade. Genoese traders realized that the Valencian climate was good for the growing of white mulberry, a fast-growing tree native to China and India. The important thing about white mulberry is that its leaves are the preferred food of a moth whose scientific name is Bombyx mori, and whose importance is their larvae, which we know as silkworms.

Silk as highly prized, and production had been controlled and kept secret for centuries by China. Once Mediterranean cultures discovered the secret, they worked hard to free themselves from dependence on the Far East. For a time, thanks to the Genoese merchants in Valencia, the area was a major center of silk production. Valencia became an economic powerhouse and entered into a Golden Age of expansion and building.

Unfortunately, a civil war in the 1520s created many internal problems. The city's prominence continued to slide until in the early 18th century the War of Spanish Succession marked the end of its independence.

Now, about the Genoese merchants who started silk production in Valencia. They traded in more than silk. I'll tell you more about them tomorrow, and the medieval slave trade.

Valencia Changing Hands

The takeover of the Taifa (Kingdom) of Valencia by the Almoravids lasted for a couple generations, and then there was swiftly shifting chaos.

In the 1140s, the Almoravid dynasty was losing respect and control, so the surrounding areas started forming their own independent small states again. One problem with the Almoravids was difficulty paying their Andalusian military. In March 1145, a local qadi ("judge"), Marwan ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz, tried to manage the increasing mistrust, but the soldiers would not change their attitude about the political leadership and pressured Marwan to take control of the city.

Marwan still did not have the resources to pay the soldiers, so they replaced him with one of their own leaders, Ibn 'Iyad. Months later, in January 1146, Ibn 'Iyad called for a son of the ruler of Zaragoza to come and take control of Valencia. This was Sayf al-Dawla ibn Hud, who took the title of Caliph but was killed within days during a battle with Christians. Ibn 'Iyad then asked Muhammad ibn Sa'd ibn Mardanish to take over. Ibn 'Iyad was killed in battle in August 1147.

Christians weren't the only problem for Mardanish. The Almohads were replacing the Almoravids and becoming the dominant force in northwestern Africa, and were crossing the Strait of Gibraltar to Iberia. Mardanish allied himself with Castile to defend against the Almohads, but he died in 1172 and the Almohads had no trouble conquering the Kingdom of Valencia.

The Almohads in Valencia also lasted just a couple generations, weakening so much that the last Almohad ruler, Zayd Abu Zayd, in 1226 agreed to pay tribute to James I of Aragon to avoid war. Abu Zayd's people resented this and rebelled a couple years later. Zayd Abu Zayd and the Almohads abandoned Valencia and a descendant of Mardanish, Zayyan ibn Mardanish, was put in charge.* It was Mardanish who failed to keep Valencia when James I reconquered it after a months-long siege, told about here.

The story of Valencia does not end there. Let's look tomorrow at the later Middle Ages, the Black Death, and that Valencia had a good climate for growing white mulberry.

* Zayd Abu Zayd stayed friendly with James I and even converted to Christianity in 1236, changing his name to Vicent Bellvis. He married a "local girl," Isabella Roldán, and was gifted some localities to rule in Spain.

El Cid and the Almoravids

After the Almoravids were invited to help control Valencia by a usurping judge and were ultimately driven from the city by El Cid—Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar (c. 1043 – 10 July 1099)—they continued to consider Valencia a goal. There were two different attempts in 1097 to defeat El Cid and take the taifa (Kingdom) of Valencia. The first attempt came to naught. In the second, the ruler of the Almoravids decided to take matters into his own hands.

Yusuf ibn Tashfin was an Almoravid ruler of Maghreb and the co-founder of Marrakesh. He had, a few years earlier, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar at the request of various Muslim groups in the Iberian Peninsula to help them fight against Christians. In 1090 he deposed the king of Granada, defeated Córdova, and drove the ruler of Seville into exile. Now, in 1097, he set out from Córdova on a mission of conquest. El Cid sent troops to counter him, but did not go himself. Although Tashfin did not capture any fortresses that were part of the Taifa of Valencia, he caused great damage to the land, and El Cid's son Diego was killed in one of the battles.

That same year, Tashfin's son, Muhammad ibn 'A'isha, succeeded in defending against El Cid's military at the city of Alcira. Tashfin was sufficiently confident of their dominance that he went back to Marrakesh, only to return two years later to continue assaults on the eastern provinces. That was in 1099, the same year El Cid died. El Cid's widow, Jimena Diaz, continued ruling Valencia, but in late 1100 an Almoravid force besieged Valencia against. After seven months, afraid of starvation, Jimena ordered the mosque to be set on fire (although her husband had converted it to a church), and fled.

Yusuf ibn Tashfin's Almoravid forces now took control of Valencia, as well as southern Iberia and Western Africa. This empire didn't last, however: in a couple generations it would break up due to civil war. What happened to Valencia then? We'll see tomorrow.

Valēntia

In 138 BCE, Rome founded a colony on the eastern coast of the Iberian Peninsula. The name means "strength" or "valor," and according to Livy was given due to the valor of soldiers who had fought against a Lusitania rebel. After Rome fell, the city became part of the Visigothic Empire. Moorish invasions caused it to change hands in 714. Abd al-Rahman I (731 - 788) ravaged the city, after which it is referred to as Balânsia or Balansiyya, and also called Medina at-Tarab ("City of Joy"). It was controlled by the Caliphate of Cordova, until a civil war that broke up the caliphate and created the opportunity for Valencia to become its own kingdom, called the Taifa of Valencia.

In the last decade of the 11th century, a Castilian noble named Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar—but better known today as "El Cid" (c.1043 - 10 July 1099)—was in change of the garrison. While he was temporarily away, a coup d'état took place by a local judge. The judge called for help from the Almoravids, who not only forced out the rest of the Castilian garrison but also killed Valencia's ruler.

When he learned of this, El Cid returned with a combined Christian-Muslim army much larger than the Almoravids, setting up a siege and denying the city any food. The judge agreed to end the siege, and the Almoravids were escorted out of the city. This was in 1092. Negotiations with the judge continued. Another Almoravid force approached the city in 1093, but declined to fight El Cid and turned away.

With the city starving in April 1094, the judge surrendered. El Cid re-entered Valencia on 15 June, taking control as king. The Almoravids later that year returned, starting their own siege. El Cid took a two-pronged approach, sending a force out of the main gates to directly attack, then himself leading a smaller force from a different gate to attack their base camp. Realizing that the judge's existence might be motivation for another attempt to attack the city, El Cid executed the judge by a public burning. (see illustration)

El Cid set about shoring up defenses with a chain of fortresses, and none too soon. An Almoravid army of 30,000 besieged one of these fortresses in 1096. El Cid managed to break up the siege, but the enemy set a trap, ambushing he Christians in a narrow valley. El Cid managed to escape the trap, however.

Hostility between the Almoravids and El Cid continued for the rest of his life, as I'll describe tomorrow.

The (Re)Conquest of Valencia

James I of Aragon worked tirelessly to expand his control over regions of the Iberian Peninsula (and north into Languedoc). Stories from two knights (one a Hospitaller) of the riches in the Muslim-held coastal city of Valencia (Arabic Balânsia) got him thinking about adding it to his possessions. His plans for Valencia started out gradually, first going after places around it.

James started in 1233 by capturing the town of Burriana, 40 miles north of Valencia along the coast. He spent the next three years expanding from Burriana until, in 1236/7, James' uncle Bernat Guillem de Montpeller captured the town of El Puig, just 15 miles away from Valencia. Legend says that James rode up the highest hill in El Puig and saw Valencia in the distance. Supposedly, his horse reared up and brought its feet down so hard that one of its horseshoes became embedded in the hill and water sprang out of the ground. Another legend says that James had a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and that granted him the ability to take Valencia from the Muslims.

James' forces reached a suburb of Valencia on 22 April 1238, establishing a command post. Because Pope Gregory IX had authorized a Crusade, James was joined by soldiers from Catalonia, England, Germany, Hungary, Italy, and Provence.

Valencia's current ruler, the Tunisian Zayyan ibn Mardanish, called for help from other Muslim allies. Only Tunisia sent help in the form of 12 ships, but they arrived too late. The siege of Valencia made food scarce, and negotiations for handing the city over to James began. On 22 September, the agreement was signed, allowing Muslims in Valencia to either leave and go far south or stay and submit to Christian rule. An estimated 50,000 Muslims left, replaced by about 30,000 Catalan settlers, who were still outnumbered by Muslims.

James officially entered the city as its ruler on 9 October (shown in the illustration above by a 19th-century artist), a day that is still celebrated as the Dia de la Comunitat Valenciana, the "Day of the (Autonomous) Community of Valencia."

The mosque was consecrated as a Christian Church. The Virgin Mary became the patron saint of Valencia due to James' vision. For the next several years, James continued to conquer more lands, advancing farther south.

What was it like from the other side of history? What about Valencia and Zayyan ibn Mardanish, seeing a half-millennium occupation of the city being threatened? Let's look at the changing history of Valencia, starting tomorrow.

James I of Aragon, Conqueridor

King James I of Aragon (2 February 1208 - 27 July 1276) was also called Jaume el Conqueridor, the "Conqueror," because he expanded Aragon's influence to Valencia in the south, Languedoc to the north, and the Balearic Islands (in the western Mediterranean).

He took over the Balearic Islands at the end of 1229 with 155 ships after a three-month siege, the capital of Palma first, followed by Mallorca and Menorca and Ibiza over the next few years.

He used the islands for barter later. The Catalan County of Urgell had been inherited by Aurembiax, only child of Ermengol VIII. Because Aurembiax was a woman, an uncle of hers (and vassal to James), Guerau de Cabrera, claimed she was unable to rule due to her sex and usurped control. Aurembiax's mother, Elvira of Subirats, had been a ward/protege of James' father, and James felt he owed her his support. Rather than fight, he bought Guerau off and restored Aurembiax to her land. (It is also thought by some that part of his deal was that she would become his mistress.) She married Peter of Portugal. In 1231, after her death, James gave Peter control of the Balearics in exchange for James controlling Urgell.

France to the north was very powerful, and James hoped to control the Pyrenees, the mountains separating France from the Iberian Peninsula. The geography of the area made this difficult, especially since the mountainous region created different areas with different cultures and politics. The Pyrenees were home to peoples who could consider themselves part of Andorra, Aragon, Ariège, Basque Country, Béarn, Catalonia, Navarre, or Roussillon. Languages included Aragonese, Spanish, French, Basque, Catalan, and Gascon and Languedoc dialects of the Occitan language. (The Visigoths centuries earlier had tried and failed to control the Pyrenees.)

Although his control of the Languedoc in southeastern France must have annoyed French kings, he managed to get Louis IX of France to renounce historical French claims to Barcelona on the Iberian Peninsula.

Part of his efforts to expand his rule meant forcing Muslims out of long-held territories. Valencia had been under Islamic rule for 500 years, but that did not deter James. Tomorrow we'll go over the Conquest of Valencia in 1238.

Teresa Gil de Vidaure

After James I of Aragon's first wife was annulled and second wife died, it seems he did not seek a third marriage. He had been, however, in a long-term relationship with someone else already.

Teresa Gil de Vidaure was the daughter of a Navarre nobleman and considered to be very beautiful. He promised to marry her after the annulment of his first wife, but instead he married Violant of Hungary in 1355. Teresa married Sancho Pérez de Lodosa. Despite these two marriages, the king and Teresa continued their relationship.

Violant died in 1251, by which time Sancho Pérez de Lodosa had died. Rather than try to legitimize a relationship, James ignored the policies of the Roman Catholic Church and treated their relationship as a common law marriage. He gave her gifts: a castle in Valencia called Jérica (an early map of the town is shown here), to go to her descendants upon her death (they had a son, James, who was given Jérica in 1276), and some villages.

Was she his wife? The contracts granting these possessions to her use legal language used for concubinage contracts, but James told Pope Clement IV in 1265 that the two were married and he wanted an annulment because Teresa (he claimed) had leprosy. The truth is that James' eyes were wandering and he started another relationship with his cousin, Berenguela Alfonso. Pope Clement was appalled, especially since this was improper even if it were not incestuous, and refused the annulment.

After Clement's death in 1268, the bishop of Valencia gave James his wish, annulling the "marriage"; Pope Gregory X, however, when he came to the papacy, affirmed Clement's decision. James tried for an annulment again in 1275, claiming that he had sexual relations with Teresa's cousin before the marriage, but Gregory was not moved.

Whether he were officially linked in a relationship to Teresa, he chose not to have her by his side. She was sent to a Cistercian monastery for the rest of her life and buried there when she died on 15 July 1285.

Tomorrow we will conclude the life of James I of Aragon, and then decide where to go after that.

The Marriages of James I

The first marriage of James I of Aragon was to Eleanor of Castile. She was the daughter of King Alfonso VIII of Castile and Eleanor of England, who was a daughter of Henry II of England. The marriage was annulled in 1229 after only eight years of marriage and a single son, Alfonso. The reason was consanguinity. Their agreement was that Eleanor would not wed again.

Eleanor retired to the Abbey of Santa María la Real de Las Huelgas where her sisters Berengaria and Constance were living. She died in 1244, aged 44. Her son, Alfonso, was married to Constance of Béarn on 23 March 1260, but he died three days later, leaving Constance to wed two more times.

In 1235, after seeking advice from Pope Gregory IX, James wed Violant of Hungary (c.1215 - 1251), who was a valuable advisor to her husband until her death. She would even ride out on horseback with him and the army, and would speak encouragingly to the soldiers. She and James had ten children, including a later queen of Castile, a king of Aragon, a queen of France (she married Philip III), and an archbishop of Toledo.

When she died, her body went to the Monastery of Santa Maria de Vallbona in Spain, where she was a benefactor, in 1275 (seen in the illustration). Her memory is still honored in street names and a celebration on 9 October in Valencia, the date she and James entered Valencia.

James was not interested in pursuing another marriage, but he did not become celibate. Instead, he essentially took a concubine, Teresa Gil de Vidaure. In fact, he had been carrying on an affair with her for a long time, even during his marriage to Violant. We will go into that story tomorrow!

James the Pawn

James I of Aragon (2 February 1208 – 27 July 1276) was used by his father as a political tool. He was the only child of Peter II of Aragon (shown here in the only contemporary image of him), and therefore was Peter's only opportunity to make a political alliance with someone through marrying off a child.

In the case of James, the marriage was supposed to be with Amicie de Montfort, the daughter of Simon IV de Montfort, the 5th Earl of Leicester. This was not a simple alliance, though. Simon was leading the Albigensian Crusade in an attempt to exterminate Catharism. Peter, on the other hand, was supporting the Cathars, who believed in leading a "pure" life, rejecting materialism. Unfortunately for the Catholic Church, they also rejected the idea of the Trinity.

Peter hoped that making a marriage between his son and Simon's daughter could give Peter an edge to hold off Simon's crusade. It should be noted that both children were less than two years old at the time of the discussions. Peter even sent James to Montfort's care in 1211, to be raised in his household.

Simon and the Albigensian Crusade did not falter, however, and the two sides met in battle. On 12 September 1213, Peter and Simon's forces met in the Battle of Muret, in which Simon's smaller force defeated the much larger alliance of Peter II and Raymond IV of Toulouse. Peter II was killed in this battle.

Simon now had the next king of Aragon—who was only a few years old—in his possession. He could have turned this into a huge political advantage and managed to possess Aragon, or at least force himself onto the country as Regent for James. The Aragonese, however, would not have it. They appealed to Pope Innocent III, who demanded that Simon relinquish custody of James, which he did in 1214 to the papal legate Peter of Benevento.

The six-year-old James was handed over to the head of the Knights Templar in Aragon, one Guillem de Montredó. Aragon was being managed by James' great-uncle Sancho and cousin Nuño, respectively Counts of Provence and Cerdanya. They were not doing a good job, supposedly, and in 1217 the Templars brought James back to the capital and enlisted the aid of loyal nobles to help him rule.

In 1221, at the age of 14, he was married to the 19-year-old Eleanor of Castile, the daughter of Alfonso VIII of Castile (mentioned here and here). The next half-dozen years were tumultuous for him. We'll take a look at his troubles next time.

Jews in Aragon

The subject of Jews and their treatment in the Iberian Peninsula has cropped up several times in this blog, regarding individuals like Isaac Abrabanel, or how Portugal was a safe place until Ferdinand and Isabella's Alhambra Decree of 1492. Jews in several European countries were protected by the rulers because of their learning, their hard-working natures, and their ability to generate large amounts of wealth from which a ruler could borrow or which a ruler could unfairly tax.

Aragon was no exception. James I of Aragon (1208 - 1276) issued a decree:

All Jews and Saracens dwelling in our domains belong to the king and are, with all their possessions, under the king's especial protection. Any one of them who shall place himself under the protection of a nobleman shall lose his head; and all his possessions, wherever they be, shall be forfeited to the king.

This ensured that no non-Christian would place themselves in a feudal relationship with anyone else. It also meant that no Jew or Saracen could be made a prisoner of anyone but the king. Jews and Muslims had complete freedom of movement in the kingdom of Aragon; no one should harm the king's "property."

This did not give them complete social equality, of course. Jews lived in special areas of the cities unless they had the king's permission. They could not move to another city without permission. Trade with Christians needed special permission. Without the king's permission (yes, that word is being used a lot), they could not build a synagogue, create a cemetery or a school, or even buy wheat to make their bread.

James also tried to determine the rightness of Christianity by arranging the Disputation of Barcelona, pitting a converted Jew, the Dominican Friar Pablo Christiani, against the leading Jewish scholar Moshe ben Nachman, called Nachmanides. The debate was chiefly on the question "Was Jesus the Messiah?" (Christianity was declared the winner, but James gave Nachmanides 300 gold coins for his performance.)

James valued Jews for their knowledge and work ethic. A confident and close member of James' administration was his head bailiff and royal treasurer, Jehudano de Cavallería (1227 - 1286). James also had two Jews as his personal physicians, Masters David and Solomon, and the Jew Master Samson was physician to his queen.

Pope Clement IV tried to stop this tolerance of the Jews, but James was immune. His son, Pedro III, eventually relented and went so far as to agree to prohibit Jews from the position of bailiff. Jews had been too generous in their financial support of Aragonese wars and its navy to treat them too harshly; in fact, they were forgiven taxes for several years because of their donations to ship-building needs.

James I has been mentioned before, but there was more to his reign than arranging the Disputation of Barcelona. I'll tell you more about him (and maybe about his three wives) next time.

Medieval Cataracts and Couching

A cataract is a medical condition where the lens of the eye becomes increasingly cloudy, leading to blindness. You would think that the Middle Ages had no way to treat this condition, but you'd be wrong. There was a method used that was actually developed thousands of years ago and described in medical texts. It was called "couching."

Couching is described in Greek and Sanskrit documents. It involves pushing the cloudy lens away from the pupil and into the interior of the eyeball, allowing more light to enter. This was done by inserting a thin sharp needle into the eye through the pupil and, well, simply pushing the lens until it is no longer blocking the light. This was done, of course, without access to anesthetics.

The result was more light, but the light was no longer being focused. The client's world was blurry—assuming the client was not rendered completely blind by damage to the eyes or killed by infection.

Roman artifacts found in the British Isles suggest that the technique was introduced there during the Roman occupation, and perhaps survived throughout the early Middle Ages, although we know of no cases prior to the 1560s.

Physicians and surgeons elsewhere knew of it. John II of Aragon went blind from cataracts by the time he was 70. A physician in his employ, a Jew named Abiathar Crescas, performed couching in September 1468 and restored his sight—or what there was available considering the lack of a functioning lens. John lived until the age of 80.

John's son, Ferdinand, would later, along with his wife, Isabella of Castile, expel all Jews from Spain. This was a major change in policy, since Jews had been prominent in the Court of Aragon. Tomorrow we'll look at the relationship between Aragon and Jews.

The End of John II of Aragon

John II of Aragon lived to the age of 80. He had been married twice, had a few children (one whom he treated poorly, a few who had better careers), including a few illegitimate ones who did all right for themselves (one became a Duke of Villahermosa, one became the Archbishop of Zaragoza).

He caused the Navarrese Civil War (1451-1455) because he refused to allow his son Charles, Prince of Viana, to inherit Navarre. That war could be said to have stretched out with periods of civil unrest until 1461, when Charles died, possibly poisoned by John's second wife.

Because of John's mistreatment of Charles and the Navarre succession, he also had to deal with a Catalan Civil War, also called quite specifically the "War Against John II." Some in the Principality of Catalonia wished to support Charles' rightful claim to Navarre, some were willing to back John's actions. 

After a lot of back-and-forth (the French weighed in on John's side as well), including Catalans bringing in pretenders to the throne to try to push John out, and lawyers enumerating the violations of the constitution of which John was guilty, it all ended when Charles died in 1461. Navarre went to John's daughter Eleanor  for about two weeks in 1479 and then passed to Francis Phoebus, another Prince of Viana.

At the end of John's life he suffered from cataracts and was blind by the age of 70. Fortunately for him, he had a surgeon who restored his eyesight through surgery. That surgeon was a Jew named Abiathar Crescas, who was also a leader among Jews of Aragon. When John died, Abiathar preached a memorial sermon at the funeral service.

Tomorrow we'll look into the medieval surgical technique for cataract removal.

John II of Aragon

The father of Ferdinand II of Aragon was John II of Aragon (1398 - 1479, pictured here). He had other titles as well, including King of Sicily and King of Navarre, which he gained from marrying Blanche I of Navarre, daughter of King Charles II of Navarre.

Their eldest son was Charles, who was made Prince of Viana by his maternal grandfather. He was also named the successor to Navarre after his grandfather and mother, a decision by them which angered John.

When Blanche died in 1441, John refused to allow Charles to rule, retaining control of Navarre, even though Charles was referred to as king by the people of Navarre.

John decided that, instead of naming Charles as the successor to his own possessions of Sicily and Aragon (as well as Navarre), John would seek another heir. He therefore married Juana Enriquez in 1447. She bore him two children, Ferdinand and Joanna. Charles saw this (correctly) as an attempt to disinherit him from Aragon. John named Ferdinand his successor when Ferdinand was nine years old.

In 1451, Charles rebelled against his father's possession of Navarre and the Navarrese Civil War began, a period of unrest and fighting until Charles was captured in 1452, the same year Ferdinand was born. Charles was released if he promised not to seek the throne of Navarre until after John's death.

All this actually took place while John was still a prince; the current king in Aragon while John was growing up was Alfonso V. Alfonso died in 1458, and Prince John became King John II of Aragon, offering Charles Naples and Sicily. Charles declined, and returned to Navarre in 1459, with a plan to marry Isabella of Castile. That fell through (she later married Ferdinand, of course). Charles died in Barcelona in 1461; the suspicion was poison, administered by his stepmother Juana.

John had several more years in him, however, and we'll wrap him up in a few paragraphs next time.

Aragon and Castile

Although Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castile were married, their two kingdoms did not become one. Sure, they worked in concert and agreed on many policies, but when Isabella died on 26 November 1504, her will did not leave Castile to her husband. Instead, it went (in proper succession, one would say), to their daughter Joanna, later called "the Mad."

Ferdinand and Isabella had son born before Joanna, John, but he had died a few years earlier. Joanna was next in line, although Isabella was concerned that despite her extensive education she might not be suited to the task, nor would her husband, Philip the Handsome, Duke of Burgundy and Archduke of the Netherlands. (The illustration is their marriage contract.) Philip was happy to become King of Castile, but his father-in-law took issue with that.

Ferdinand had been named in Isabella's will as potential regent for Castile if ever Joanna were absent from the country or unable to rule, or if she decided she did not want to be queen. Ferdinand, however, wanted more. He minted coins in Castile imprinted with "Ferdinand and Joanna, King and Queen of Castile, León and Aragon." In 1505 he convinced the Castilian Court that Joanna was unable to govern due to infirmities, and they named Ferdinand her guardian and the governor of the kingdom. Joanna's husband took umbrage at this, and so he minted coins imprinted with "Philip and Joanna, King and Queen of Castile, Léon and Archdukes of Austria."

Philip agreed that Ferdinand would be regent of Castile during the times when Philip and his queen traveled to Philip's Netherlands.

Ferdinand, concerned that without another heir he might see Aragon go to Joanna and Philip,  decided he needed a second wife who might produce an heir who could inherit both kingdoms. He married the 17-year-old Ursula Germaine of Foix by proxy on 19 October 1505. Ferdinand was 53. They did not meet until 18 March 1506, where (we are told) the marriage was consummated.

This made France and Aragon closer politically, but Castile saw Ferdinand's re-marriage as a betrayal of the beloved Isabella.

Philip died on 25 September 1506, and Ferdinand was named regent, since Joanna was deemed unfit to rule.

Germaine bore a son on 3 May 1509, but he died shortly after.

Ferdinand died on 23 January 1516, leaving Syracuse, Sicily, several towns in Catalonia, and a town in Naples to his widow, and leaving her in the care of his grandson by Joanna and Philip, Archduke Charles of the Netherlands. Charles moved to Castile in 1517, and Germaine moved to Castile from Aragon to be near him. Germaine went with Charles in 1519 to Aragon where he was crowned as Ferdinand's successor.

In the original post on Ferdinand I mentioned that there was some controversy over his father naming him the heir when Ferdinand was only nine years old. Let's get back to that story (and an earlier time; stretching into 16th-century affairs seems strange to me, given the name of this blog), and see what that was about.