Edgar Ætheling, Part 2

For Edgar Ætheling, landing in Scotland in 1068—whether by accident or design—was fortuitous. King Malcolm III took a liking to Edgar's sister Margaret, who was probably in her early 20s. They married in 1070 (see illustration), and had several children, including kings of Scotland David I and Alexander I.

Edgar's new brother-in-law supported Edgar's claim to the throne of England. Edgar's and Malcolm's plans caused the north of England—what is now Yorkshire, Durham, Northumberland, Lancashire—to start a series of local rebellions against Norman rule. This led to the Harrying of the North, William the Conqueror's campaign to subdue the northern territories and stop Edgar's plans. The Harrying was vicious, using scorched earth tactics to starve out the rebels and replacing all English aristocracy with Normans.

Edgar had returned to England to become the focal point for the rebellions, but retreated to Scotland when things got bad. Later that year, King Sweyn of Denmark arrived in the north, triggering a fresh set of uprisings. Edgar, the Northumbrians, and the Danes combined to take York from Norman control. William arrived later, bought off the Danes (they were still susceptible to Danegeld), and caused Edgar and his other followers to, once again, retreat to Scotland.

In 1072, William invaded Scotland, forcing Malcolm to recognize William's overlordship. Part of the agreement was the expulsion of Edgar, who went to Flanders where Robert the Frisian was hostile to Normandy. Edgar returned to Scotland in 1074, but then received an offer from Philip I, King of France. Philip offered him a castle near the Norman border from which he could hassle Normandy. Embarking for France, a storm wrecked his fleet along the English coast, whereupon Normans hunted him down. He fled back to Scotland on foot, after which Malcolm convinced him to give up his dreams of a throne and submit to William.

Edgar tried that route, but felt he deserved better treatment because of his status. The Domesday Book in 1086 lists two estates in Hertfordshire belonging to Edgar, although by that time he was no longer living in England. Dissatisfied, he had gone to Italy to settle in Apulia, which was occupied by Normans. A few years later, however, he returned to England.

After William's death in 1087, Edgar's fortunes seemed to rise a little with William's sons, who clearly had no concerns that this older man was going to try to take their throne. Instead, they involved him in their reigns.

For the happy remainder of Edgar's complicated life, tune in tomorrow.

The Wool Trade in England

Wool is different from hair in that it has a natural "crimp" to it that allows the fibers to bind together. This, and the fact that it can be found in abundance on the backs of sheep, made it an excellent source for textiles. Anyone with a plot of grass could have sheep, and anyone with sheep could learn the steps to make it into cloth.

The Low Countries, such as Flanders, did not have as much land to give over to grass instead of other human-based edibles, but they became excellent weavers whose textiles were in demand all over Europe. They needed the raw material, however, and England was an excellent source.

Wool as in such demand that it became the backbone of the English economy from the second half of the 13th century to the second half of the 15th. Everyone kept sheep for this purpose. Abbeys and monasteries often had large tracts of land given to them, and they became major sources of raw wool.

Wool was so popular a commodity that Edward I (1239 - 1307) realized it was a source of revenue for the crown as well. He instituted a tax on every bale and bag of raw wool that went out of the country. The beauty of taxation for the historian is that it means records are kept, so we know a lot about how much wool was exported. From 1281 to 1300, about 26,000 sacks of wool. How much was that, really? The English "sack," used for wool and coal, equalled 224 pounds. That equates to about 2900 tons of wool annually. In the first couple decades of the 1300s, the annual output averaged 35-40,000 sacks.

Edward III (1312 - 1377) needed a lot of revenue to manage expenses during the Hundred Years War, and raised the tax on wool. He promoted the wool trade by establishing the Woolsack, a large cushion of wool on which the presiding officer of the House of Lords sat.

Edward would make decisions that ultimately lessened the value of wool for his economy. He invited weavers from Flanders to relocate to England. Perhaps he though he could bring another source of revenue closer to home. His high taxes, however, started to discourage people from sending wool abroad, and they started making their own woolen cloth. An influx of skilled Flemish weavers meant less raw wool leaving the country to be taxed. The annual export started decreasing in the final years of his reign, and dropped below 20,000 sacks in the decade following. From 1400 to 1430, it didn't exceed 15,000 sacks, and after 1430 it fell below 10,000.

There was another reason: quality. English wool reigned supreme for generations, but experiments in cross-breeding in the Iberian Peninsula produced something else: Merino wool. The best guesses are Spanish ewes being bred with English and North African rams in the 12th and 13th centuries, and then increased stock over the years, produced a much finer wool that became all the rage for cloth. You can learn more about it in this post.

This web article opened with the following:

Wool as a raw material has been widely available since the domestication of sheep. Even before shears were invented, wool would have been harvested using a comb or just plucked out by hand.

I thought the second sentence was pretty superfluous, but then I asked myself: "Well, when did shears come into the picture?" So I did some looking, and now I know, which I will shear...excuse me, share tomorrow.

Wool—A Brief History

Before we talk about the wool trade, I think a few words about the history of wool is a good start.

There is evidence that sheep were domesticated 9000-11000 years ago, but no evidence that they were used for wool until much later. The oldest woolen garments found are dated to only 4000-3000BCE. The oldest known European woolen fabric comes from a Danish bog and is dated to 1500BCE. In the Roman era, wool was used along with linen and leather. Cotton and silk were rare, coming from India and China, respectively.

We jump now to Northeastern France in the 1100s and the County of Champagne. In various towns in the region, annual fairs were held, lasting 2-3 weeks, where merchants gathered to buy and sell textiles, leather, furs, and spices. These "Champagne Fairs" created economic opportunity and growth and, in the case of wool, they connected the weavers of the Low Countries, such as Flanders, with Italians, who not only were skilled in dyeing cloth, but also had the merchant fleets to distribute products all around the Mediterranean. Wool cloth from Flanders could reach from Spain to Constantinople, from Majorca to Cyprus.

Wool was the economic engine of the Low Countries in the 13th century. Where did the raw wool come from that the Low Countries cleaned and carded and wove so well? England. Nothing benefitted the medieval English economy as much as the wool trade.

In fact, wool was so important to England that it had so-called "wool churches": a church financed by merchants who had become wealthy through the wool trade. Wool was so important that King Edward III in the 14th century instituted "The Woolsack," a large cushion of wool in the House of Lords upon which the presiding officer sat (at the time the Lord Chancellor, now the Lord Speaker).

More specifics of the wool trade in England tomorrow.

The Flemish Revolt, Part 2

To sum up yesterday's post: France considered Flanders their territory, Flanders under Count Robert III fought a war about that and lost, the treaty demanded an annual tribute. Count Robert and his son both died within two months, leaving Robert's grandson Louis in charge while still in his teens. Louis' father-in-law was the king of France, so his attitude toward France was much more supportive than previously in the Flanders ruling family—and more than the citizens of Flanders would have liked.

Louis was more concerned with being diligent about payments to France than his grandfather was, and so he raised taxes to cover the payments. That move, and his Franco-phile attitude, turned the general population of Flemings against him.

Resentment against the Count of Flanders started manifesting as small rural riots in late 1323—poor harvests that year contributed to the unrest—and ultimately boiled over into an organized rebellion that lasted until 1328. A rich farmer from Lampernisse named Nicolaas Zannekin organized his neighbors and other rebels and captured various towns, including Nieuwpoort, Ypres, and Kortrijk. In Kortrijk, they went so far as to capture Robert, the Count of Flanders. Louis was released on 30 November 1325 after promising amnesty to all the members of the rebellion; Louis fled to Paris the next day.

In April 1326, King Charles IV of France got involved, as their ruler (technically, but not in the eyes of Flanders' citizens). The Peace of Arques he established did not last.

The rebellion expanded, and gained a new leader, the mayor of Bruges, William Deken. Deken had become mayor in February 1328 when Bruges rejected the Count's appointed city magistrate and appointed its own officials. That June, Deken traveled to England to persuade the young King Edward III that he should renew his claim to the throne of France. (Clearly, he wished to distract France, Louis' strongest ally.)

King Charles of France died 21 February 1328, and King Philip VI organized an expedition into Flanders to end the rebellion once and for all. They met at the Battle of Cassel (pictured above), where the rebels were defeated and Nicolaas Zannekin was killed. William Deken fled to Brabant and looked for help from Duke John III, but John wanted nothing to do with the conflict and handed Deken over to France, where he was taken to Paris and convicted of high treason. After cutting off his hands, he was dragged through the streets and then hanged.

Back in Flanders, Count Louis confiscated the property of the conspirators; cities that cooperated were forced to pay heavy fines. The fortifications of Bruges, Ypres, and Kortrijk were destroyed so that they could never again resist an army. 

..and so ended the Flemish revolt. That time. When the Hundred Years War started a decade later, Louis stayed pro-French, even though Flanders' wool trade relied heavily on England. England boycotted Flanders wool, and a new revolt started. This was too much for Louis, who fled Flanders for good and was killed in 1346 at the Battle of Crécy, fighting for the French.

If you spend any amount of time on the economy of Western Europe in the Middle Ages, you will learn that one of the most common and important phrases is "the wool trade." You can guess tomorrow's topic.

The Flemish Revolt, Part 1

About 60 years before the Peasants' Revolt in England over a poll tax, the lower classes of the Low Countries revolted against taxes.

Robert III, aka The Lion of Flanders, was the Count of Flanders. When he died sin 1322, he left behind a muddle: his son and heir, Louis I the Count of Nevers, had died two months previous, and the next in line was Robert's grandson, Louis. Louis at the age of about 18 became the Count of Nevers and Flanders. A couple years earlier, in 1320, Louis had married Margaret, the daughter of King Philip V of France.

This marriage made him a Francophile, while Robert III and his father had been anti-French. There was another big issue connected with Louis' reign, and that was taxation. Not that there wasn't a reason:

Louis' grandfather, Robert III, had signed a treaty with King Philip IV of France to conclude the Franco-Flemish War (1297-1305). The war started because, although Flanders had acted independently, it was technically a part of France since the Treaty of Verdun in 843. Philip IV decided to bring Flanders and its wealthy cities under stricter French control. We may discuss the war some other time; for now, suffice it to say that the Flemish forces were defeated.

The terms of the Treaty of Athis-sur-Orge were onerous, to say the least. Certain cities (Lille, Douai, Orchies) would fall under French rule, and fortresses protecting large cities in Flanders needed to be torn down. Expensive monetary re[arations were to be paid to France, and an annual sum. The Count of Flanders would hold Flanders as a fiefdom of France. Flanders was required to send 600 knights for there French army

...and this is where we get back to Louis, raising taxes to pay back his father-in-law and fulfill the terms of the treaty; but I feel I've already taken enough of your time for one day, so I'll finish this tomorrow.

To be Flemish

The term "Flemish" has been used since the 1300s to refer to a certain group of people. What does it mean to be Flemish?

The word "Flemish" was first seen in print c.1325 as flemmysshe, although Flæming had been around since at least 1150, meaning "from Flanders."  Flanders was originally a small territory around Bruges, established in the 8th century. Flanders now is the Dutch-speaking northern part of Belgium. The Flemings currently make up about 60% of the Belgian population.

Is there a Flemish language? The Flemish language is sometimes called Flemish Dutch, or Belgian Dutch, or Southern Dutch. In the illustration of Belgium to the left, the dark green area is where Dutch is spoken, the light green area is mostly French-speaking. (There is a small German area on the far right, and the lighter spot among the dark green is Brussels itself, where both Dutch and French have official status.

In 1188, Gerald of Wales (a historian mentioned, among other places, here) described the Flemings as:

a brave and sturdy people […] a people skilled at working in wool, experienced in trade, ready to face any effort or danger at land or sea in pursuit of gain; according to the demands of time and place quick to turn to the plough or to arms; a brave and fortunate people.

Gerald knew about them not because he traveled to the continent, but because many Flemings left Flanders due to population growth and the need for more land, many ending up in Scotland. In fact, the surname Fleming is fairly common these days, mostly because of Flemish families in Western Europe.

Flemings are even mentioned in the Peasants' Revolt of 1381, in a reference that raises its own set of questions, but we can talk about that tomorrow.

Robert Curthose

Yesterday's post mentioned Henry becoming king of England upon the death of his brother, William Rufus. Their father was William the Conqueror. William had more than two sons, however. In fact, neither Henry nor William Rufus was his eldest son.

His eldest was Robert Curthose (c.1051 - 3 February 1134). He might have eventually succeeded his father to the throne of England, but his own actions got in the way.

Robert had some admirable qualities, as noted by William of Malmesbury in his Gesta Regum Anglorum [Deeds of the Kings of England]:

...considered as a youth of excellent courage... of tried prowess, though of small stature and projecting belly... he was neither ill-made, nor deficient in eloquence, nor was he wanting in courage or resources of the mind. [Note the "small stature" line; the nickname, "curthose" likely derived from his legs being a little shorter than usual]

But he had a temper. In 1077—still a young man—his younger brothers were bored, and dumped the contents of a chamber pot on Robert from an upper gallery. The boys got into a fight, which their father had to break up. Enraged that his father did not punish the instigators, the very next day Robert tried to capture one of his father's castles, at Rouen. He failed, and fled ultimately to Flanders, where his mother secretly sent him money to support him. His mother, Matilda, arranged a reconciliation between father and son from that lasted from 1080 until her death in 1083, after which Robert left court and traveled Europe.

On William the Conqueror's death in 1087, he left England's throne to William Rufus, and £5000 silver to Henry. To his estranged and difficult eldest son, Robert, he left Normandy—a generous gift considering the troubles between them.

Robert continued to cause trouble for his siblings, however; a story for tomorrow.

Occupy Cassel

Lower classes revolting against taxation and economic unfairness is as old as taxation itself. In 14th century France, a situation arose that brought most of the country into conflict, and involved a pope and England as well.

Battle of Cassel, from a manuscript in the
Bibliothèque Nationale of France

In the 1320s, the Count of Flanders was collecting taxes for the King of France, Charles IV. Residents of several communes, including Cassel, gathered under the leadership of a Flemish farmer, Nicholas Zannekin, and refused to pay. Under Zannekin, a coalition of farmers and peasants captured several towns, including Ypres and Kortrijk, in which they found and captured the Count of Flanders himself. At this point, Charles IV had to intervene; in February 1326, the Count was released and the Peace of Arques was agreed upon.

That, however, was not to last. Revolts resumed. Charles asked Pope John XXII to place Flanders (except for the aristocracy) under Interdict, denying sacraments to the rebels. The clergy of Flanders were divided: do they follow the dictates of their pope? Is it fair to do so, since some felt the pope in Avignon had become a puppet of the king? Or do they not  enforce the Interdict because, if they did, the peasants might turn on them and imprison or kill them?

In 1328, realizing how precarious his position was, the Count fled from Flanders to France, where he appealed to the new king, Philip VI (Charles having died on 1 February), for military aid. Of course, Philip's claim to the throne had been disputed by King Edward III of England (for reasons too complicated to discuss here). Edward having been rejected by the French aristocracy in favor of Philip, it was feared that he would ally himself with the Flemish rebels. When Edward was betrothed to Philippa of Hainault, whose father was an ally of King Charles, the fear of an English-Flemish alliance was put to rest.

In fact, Philippa's father, Count William I of Hainault, was on of the leaders of the French army that was sent to quell the Flemish rebels once and for all. The French army, with military support from several dukes, Austria, and the King of Navarre, brought 12,000 troops and 2500 mounted knights to Cassel where Zannekin and 15,000 men had taken over. On 23 August 1328, Zannekin himself was killed in the Battle of Cassel and the uprising was finished for good.

Battle van Damme

A naval battle, from a ms. dated late 13th/early 14th century

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Then There's Maud

Matilda of Flanders (c.1031-1083), also called Maud, was the wife of William II of Normandy (later William the Conqueror). Their legendary and odd "courtship" was described here. The odd thing is that, after the supposed abuse he heaped on her when she first refused his hand, she later defied her father, Count Baldwin of Flanders, and refused to marry anyone else.

The pope objected, because they were too closely related. Determining the exact relationship has been difficult for modern scholars, however:

It has thus been suggested that both William and Matilda were cousins in the fifth degree, being both directly descended from Rolf the Viking. ... Finally, it has been suggested (perhaps with greater probability) that the prohibition was based on the fact that after the death of Baldwin V's mother, Ogiva, his father, Baldwin IV, had married a daughter of Duke Richard II of Normandy. All these theories have difficulties to overcome, and the matter may well therefore be left in some suspense. —William the Conqueror, David C. Douglas (1964)

We know that she was a direct descendant of Alfred the Great, and also was a descendant of Charlemagne, but those connections should not have sparked the pope's concern. Whatever his objections, they were overcome eventually with the help of Lanfranc (see the link above).

Matilda proved to be an admirable consort. She outfitted a ship, the Mora, with her own funds to join his fleet for the Conquest of England. She also had skills as an administrator: William left the Duchy of Normandy in her hands when he headed to England in 1066 to defeat Harold. In fact, although she did spend time with her husband in England—notably when she accompanied him during his Harrying of the North campaign—except for giving birth to their fourth child, Henry, in Yorkshire while on that campaign, all of their other children were born in Normandy.

One thing she likely did not do is work on the Bayeaux Tapestry. As picturesque as the image is of her and her ladies in waiting working away as seamstresses and embroiderers, it is now believed that the tapestry (actually a banner) was arranged by Bishop Odo of Bayeaux (William's half-brother) and created by Kentish artists.

So far as we know, once she captured William's heart she never let it go again. There are no records of William having any children outside of his marriage, or of taking a mistress. They had nine children, all of whom lived to adulthood. Two of them became kings: William II, called Rufus, who ruled England after the Conqueror, and Henry who ruled after William as Henry I.

Her illness and death, with William at her side, was devastating for her husband. William survived her by four years, but he was changed. True, in 1085 he called for the Domesday Book, but his interest in ruling England was waning, and he returned to Normandy for good in 1086. There are also reports that he became more cruel. When he died, he was buried in Caen, near but not with his wife. While he was buried at Abbaye aux Hommes (Abbey of Men), at which Lanfranc had once been abbot, Matilda was interred down the road at the Abbaye aux Dames (Abbey of Women), which had been founded by William and Matilda in 1062. She is buried under a slab of black marble.

Matilda of Flanders died 929 years ago today. The illustration is a statue of her in Paris

Lanfranc, Part 1 (of 2)

Scholar and Teacher, Priest and Politician

There are two reasons why I want to mention Lanfranc today. One is because today is the 923rd anniversary of his death.* The second is because I want to discuss his most famous pupil in the future, and this is nice background for that.

Lanfranc (c.1005-1089) was born in Italy, educated in the liberal arts, and moved to France to teach, finally deciding to join the abbey at Bec in Normandy in 1042. In 1045 the abbot persuaded him to open a school in the abbey. His reputation drew students from France, Flanders, Germany and Italy.

His understanding and teaching of religious doctrine produced powerful thinkers who rose high in ecclesiastical ranks. Lanfranc himself ultimately became Archbishop of Canterbury, but not before a strange political somersault.

Duke William of Normandy, also called William the Bastard (and later William the Conqueror) wished to marry Matilda of Flanders. Two items stood in his way (three, if you want to believe the legend): his bastardy (he was the son of his father's mistress), and the fact that they were too closely related to satisfy custom and law. (The third thing is that Matilda supposedly refused to marry a bastard; and I guess there's a fourth thing, if you want to assume that she didn't like the fact that he was so angry with her that he angrily dragged her off her horse by her braids and threw her to the ground.) Lanfranc publicly opposed the marriage as inappropriate. Duke William (of Normandy, and Bec Abbey is in Normandy, remember) sent Lanfranc into exile; on the point of departure, however, he was forgiven and took on the task of persuading the pope to consent to the marriage! (I would love to tell you that he was the man for the job because the pope had been a student of Lanfranc's, but Pope Alexander II, who had been a student of Lanfranc's, didn't become pope until 1061.) Lanfranc's arguments succeeded, however, William and Matilda got married, William later decided to conquer England, and the rest is (English) history.

So when an Archbishop of Canterbury was needed years later, Lanfranc was rewarded for helping out William. His first job was to straighten out Thomas of Bayeaux, the Archbishop of York, who thought that York was empowered to operate independently of Canterbury's authority. Lanfranc was having none of that, and figured Thomas owed him one, since Lanfranc had given him passing grades years ago. Thomas, however, did not give in to his former teacher, so Lanfranc turned to Pope Alexander II who was now on the throne of Peter and agreed to allow Lanfranc to get it settled by a council of the English church, which met at Winchester. Lanfranc got the primacy he wanted, agreed to by the king and queen with their "X"s on the document. Before Alexander II could ratify the ruling on the Canterbury-York dispute, however, he died and was replaced by Gregory VII, who wasn't inclined to rubber-stamp England's rulings. The argument stretched out for years.

Lanfranc was a powerful help to the king, among other things foiling a conspiracy against the king and helping to ensure the succession of the next king. But what history cares about is his contributions to theological doctrine, of which more soon.

*To be honest, that date is disputed; some say it was May 24.