The Pirate Monk

There were many reasons why someone would become a pirate, I suppose. It was probably rare that a monk would do so, however.

Eustace Busket was more than a monk and a pirate. Born about 1170 near Boulogne, he was a younger son of minor nobility who, not being likely to inherit much in the way of lands or titles, went to Toledo in Spain to study, where supposedly he took up "black magic" and produced marvels. For some reason, he gave up that life, returning home to join a Benedictine monastery at St. Samer near Calais.

At some point he left the monastery and became the seneschal and bailiff for Count Renaud de Dammartin. Eustace was accused of mismanaging his duties, and about 1204 he fled his responsibilities and the accusations. He was declared an outlaw, and became a pirate, sailing the English Channel looking for plunder.

He was a well-known figure, and King John paid him occasionally between 1205 and 1212 to harass Philip II of France. He would sometimes raid the English Coast for fun and profit and be declared an outlaw again, but King John always forgave him eventually to continue the harassment of Philip. John also gave him 30 ships to use in his missions.

In 1212, Eustace switched to supporting France, and when English Civil war broke out in 1215 (ultimately leading to Magna Carta), he supported the English barons against King John. Eustace carried Prince Louis of France to England to join the Barons, and on a 1217 mission to bring Louis aid, he got caught up in the Battle of Dover. Eustace managed to escape, but his enemies caught up with him, and on 24 August 2017, at the Battle of Sandwich, he was caught. We do not know exactly how he was executed, but Mathew Paris portrays him as being beheaded (depicted above).

The Bull

When Philip IV of France convinced Pope Clement V that his campaign against the corruption of the Templars needed to be extended to all Templars everywhere, Clement issued a papal bull to spread the word.

The papal bull had become commonplace by the 13th century. We know they existed as far back as the 6th century, because the lead seal itself exists, even though the message itself does not. We don't have any original bulls from earlier than 819. At that time, they were still being written on fragile papyrus. Once they switched to vellum (calf skin) or parchment aroun the 1th century, the survival rate of documents increased dramatically.

Why was it called a "bull"? The term comes from the Latin verb bullire (to bubble). Bulls were a lump of material, wrapped around a ribbon attached to a document and stamped with official seals/markings, indicating their authenticity. They were originally clay, but lead became more common—and, occasionally, gold: Byzantine emperors liked to issue golden bulls.

In the case of the popes of Rome, one side of the flat leaden bull would bear the image of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. The "SPASPE" seen in te image above stands for Saint PEter and Saint PAul. The other side would bear the name of the issuing pope.

Bulls also have odd names, because they are called after the first few words of the statement, which does not always indicate their content, as I previously explained in the footnote here. Bulls were also not always commands or "new laws." Clearly, the pope had no way to enforce a bull, as when he issued the one about the Templars that was ignored by Edward II of England. Other notable pulls that weren't necessarily embraced: Exsurge Domine (15 June 1520) demanded that Martin Luther retract 41 of his 95 Theses against the Roman Catholic Church, and Sublimis dei (29 May 1537) forbidding the enslavement of indigenous peoples in the Americas.

The Templars in England

In 1307, on Friday the 13th of October, King Philip of France ordered the head of the Knights of the Temple, Jacques de Molay, arrested along with scores of other Templars. That wasn't the intent outside of France, however. Philip's motive for crushing the Templars was his indebtedness to them, but his opportunity came when Pope Clement V asked the King's help in investigating charges made two years previously by an ex-Templar. Philip used this request as a reason to arrest them and appropriate their property. This is usually considered the "end of the Templars" and the start of their disgrace.

The Templars' Church in London

Under torture, many Templars confessed to heresy, idolatry, corruption and fraud, homosexuality. With that "evidence," the Pope had to issue a bull on 22 November 1307 demanding the seizing of the Templars and their property all over Europe.

In England, however, the Templars found refuge for a time. This was partially due to England being busy with other things. Edward I had died in July 1307, after illness and constant military engagements in order to keep Scotland under control. His successor, Edward II, was a disappointment on many levels, one of which was his lack of interest in administration. Worrying about giving orders for mass arrests was not on his agenda. He focused instead on sport and entertainment, gave up the Scottish campaign, and recalled his banished best friend (with whom he was considered to have an "unnatural" relationship). His hand on the Templar matter was probably forced when he accepted an alliance with France by marrying the daughter of King Philip—a woman in whom he showed no interest.

Once the marriage was arranged, Philip started urging Edward to respect the papal bull (and support Philip's personal prejudices) and arrest Templars. A trial in England was a much more mild approach than the French torture chambers, and the few Templars subpoenaed were made to admit that their order was in error on the subject of the order's master being able to give absolution. The trial lasted until March 1310, by which time the Templars were thoroughly discredited. Rather than arrests or executions for heresy, however, Templars in England generally just transferred to other monastic orders, such as the Order of Hospitallers (which happened to receive much Templar property) and the Cistercians. The Templars in France may have ended with stake-burnings and torture, but in England they simply faded away.

Clumsy King John

The Wash, with Norfolk on right and Lincolnshire on left

King John of England (1166-1216) has so many misfortunes attached to him that it is unlikely he will ever be "rehabilitated" in the eyes of most historians. Fighting with his Barons (which led to being forced to sign the Magna Carta—good for England, bad for the King), arguing with Pope Innocent III, which led to his excommunication (meaning he was not allowed to take the Sacraments) from 1209 to 1213, disagreements with King Philip of France (causing the loss, through military misadventure, of his territories in northern France—he had a difficult time getting any respect from his contemporaries.

It was a confrontation with French forces that would lead not only to his death, but to perhaps his greatest embarrassment as a king: the loss of the Crown Jewels—not through actions of the enemy, but through lack of caution or proper planing ahead. Some of the Barons, once again fighting with John, invited Prince Louis of France to lead them: he had a slim claim to the throne because of his marriage to a granddaughter of Henry II (John's father). Louis landed with his army at Kent and proceeded to take over parts of the southeast.

There was fighting all over. John ended a siege on Windsor Castle and moved toward London to clear out the rebels, then north to end a siege at Lincoln, then to Bishop's Lynn* in Norfolk (see the graphic above). While there, he contracted dysentery; this was in late September. As if that weren't enough, King Alexander II of Scotland (1198-1249) took advantage of the turmoil in England to head south, conquering as he came and intending to swear loyalty to Prince Louis in exchange for holding England.

John, still very ill, headed west from Norfolk with his troops, but sent his baggage train across the lowlands of The Wash, the square-shaped estuary marked in yellow in the above graphic. While traversing the causeway and ford during low tide, the slow-moving wagons got caught in the sand, and were overtaken by the cold North Sea waters. The Crown Jewels, and who knows how many other goods and men, were lost in The Wash on 12 October 1216. A week later, John lost his life. He was succeeded by his son, King Henry III, who reigned 56 years until 1272.

*Now renamed "King's Lynn" thanks to Henry VIII.

The Two Kings Henry

Henry, the young king.

For a time, the Capetian Dynasty in France had the habit of naming and actually crowning the king's heir in the old king's lifetime. King Stephen and King Henry II of England adopted this policy. In June 1170, King Henry II crowned his 15-year-old son Henry. Watching the ceremony would have been the 13-year-old Richard (later King and Lionheart), 12-year-old Geoffrey, and 3-year-old John (later "Bad King John").

"Young King Henry" (1155-1183) was considered handsome, charming, and popular; however, he showed no apparent skill or interest in politics, military skill, or even ordinary intelligence. For these reasons, it is probably good that his father never entrusted him with any authority. In fact, Henry II seems to have used his son as a political tool.

• Henry was betrothed to Margaret, daughter of Louis VII of France, on the condition that her dowry would be the Vexin, the border region between the England-held Normandy and France itself. (A nice expansion of England's property on the continent.)
• Because Pope Alexander III needed help dealing with Frederick I, Holy Roman Emperor, he acquiesced to Henry's request to allow the children to be married in 1160, giving England the Vexin. (There was no ceremony until 1172.)
• Henry had the royal wedding officiated by the Archbishop of York instead of the Archbishop of Canterbury, as was customary. This was likely an attempt to put the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Beckett, in his place. (He would be dead six months later.)

The benefit of naming your heir early was to avoid disputes at the senior king's death over the succession. In this case, however, since young Henry would inherit vast lands with the throne, he was given a house and staff and large income—and even one of the most respected men of the age, William Marshal, as a tutor in arms—but not provinces and territories like his younger brothers. Consequently, his brothers had more power than he. This would have rankled the young king while his father lived on...and on.*

In 1173, Henry the young king led a rebellion with his brothers, his mother,  the kings of France and Scotland, the Count of Flanders, et alia, against his father (this really was the most turbulent family in the Middle Ages). The same qualities and actions that brought Henry II rivals and enemies, however, also brought him great wealth, and he was able to hire sufficient mercenary forces to put down what was later called the Great Rebellion. (It was the English opposition to all the foreign mercenaries on England's soil that prompted Henry to create the Assize of Arms.)

Young Henry rebelled again in 1183 against his father and his brother, Richard, over Richard's iron-fisted rule of the Duchy of Aquitaine. Henry had the help of his brother Geoffrey and Aquitaine locals who were willing to throw off Richard's rule, but the sudden death of the young king on June 11, 1183, ended the attempt. He was a little over 28 years old. King Philip of France, the brother of Margaret, lost little time in asking for the return of her dowry, the Vexin.** Instead of the land, France accepted an annual payment from Henry II.

Because he never ruled, he is not counted in the list of Kings of England. He is neglected by history in favor of his younger brothers, but he is not without fans: a recent website is devoted to him.


*Queen Elizabeth should be glad that the House of Windsor does not appear to have any of the Plantagenet temper.
**The 1967 movie The Lion in Winter is a highly fictionalized—and highly entertaining—account of this meeting.

Roger of Hoveden

One of the men who went on the Third Crusade (talked about here and here), wrote accounts of some of the events of that adventure, notably The Fall of Jerusalem, 1187 and Laws of Richard I (Coeur de Lion) Concerning Crusaders Who Were to Go by Sea. He didn't witness the Fall of Jerusalem himself, however, having gone over with Richard I in August 1190 and returning to Europe in August 1191 with Phillip II of France.

Roger of Hoveden (d.1201?) was unknown to history until 1174, when Henry II sent him on a secret mission to the lords of Galloway in southwest Scotland. His name suggests he was born in what is now called Howden, in Yorkshire. His death date is inferred from the fact that one of his historical works, called the Chronica, breaks off suddenly at 1201.

The Chronica (Chronicles) is an attempt (like the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle) to create a comprehensive history of England. For the parts of English history preceding his own life, he mostly just copies earlier works. From 732-1170, he uses other works. From 1170-1192, he copies his own earlier work, the Gesta Henrici II et Gesta Regis Ricardi (Works of Henry II and Works of King Richard).* The Gesta is the best evidence that Hoveden must have been well-connected at Henry's court: he shows detailed knowledge of political events, and is more sympathetic to Henry's side in the ongoing disputes between Henry and his sons and others. From 1192 until its abrupt end in 1201, the Chronica (along with the Gesta) is a valuable tool for understanding some of the changes in England's constitutional development.

Here is an excerpt from the Chronica for 1183, with what might seem an interesting puzzle:

In the year of grace 1183, being the twenty-ninth year of the reign of king Henry, son of the empress Matilda, the said king of England was at Caen, in Normandy, on the day of the Nativity of our Lord; the king also, and Richard and Geoffrey, ... . After the Nativity of our Lord, the king ordered the king, his son, to receive homage from Richard, earl of Poitou, and from Geoffrey, earl of Brittany, his brothers; on which, in obedience to his father, he received the homage of his brother Geoffrey, and was willing to receive it from his brother Richard, but Richard refused to do homage to him; and afterwards, when Richard offered to do homage to him, the king, the son, refused to receive it. Richard, feeling greatly indignant at this, withdrew from the court of the king, his father, and going to Poitou, his own territory, built there some new castles and fortified the old ones.

Does it seem to you that there are two kings mentioned here? There are. Tomorrow we'll look at when England had two Kings Henry at the same time.

*This work was originally attributed to Abbot Benedict of Peterborough, because his name appeared on a copy in Benedict's library. Benedict's library-building habits are well-known, however, and evidence exists that he had a copy of the Gesta made from its original source.

Muslim-Christian Relations, Part 1 (of 2)

The Second Crusade (1145-49) had put a great deal of the Holy Land under European rule, but Saladin (Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub, 1138-1193) had re-conquered much of that territory, prompting several kings of Europe to agree to another crusade. The Third Crusade (1189-92) was unsuccessful in putting the Holy Land under Western European control. It did, however, open up a dialogue between the east and west in unforeseen ways.

The death of Henry II put the English troops under the command of Richard the Lionhearted. Richard loved military campaigns. His first stop was at Cyprus to conquer that island, after which he joined King Philip of France and Leopold V of Austria, who were embroiled in the two-year-long Siege of Acre. Richard's siege machines started destroying the walls. The residents of Acre sent appeals to Saladin to help them, but he could not defeat the Europeans. Acre had no choice but to surrender. Five weeks after Richard's arrival, the Europeans took the city, and banners were raised over the city representing the Kingdoms of Jerusalem, France, England, and the Duchy of Austria.

Richard may have been a great commander, but he was a terrible co-commander. The three lords fought over the disbursement of the spoils of war. Richard argued against the other two over whom should be left as King of Jerusalem; Richard prevailed. Richard also refused to accord Leopold the same respect as a king, and took down Austria's banner. In August, Philip and Leopold had had enough: they went back home, leaving 10,000 French troops with Richard's army.

Richard alone was left to deal with Saladin and establish a treaty after Acre. Payments of money and the transfer of Muslim and Christian prisoners were arranged. Richard did not like the slowness of the payments, and the fact that he wanted more Christians handed over faster. He had 2700 Muslim men, women and children of Acre killed outside the walls. Saladin, not to be outdone, killed all the Christians in his possession.

But the relationship between these two commanders was going to take an odd turn.

[to be continued]