Showing posts with label Matthew Paris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matthew Paris. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 20, 2023

Henry's Statute of Jewry

St. Augustine of Hippo (354 - 430) was one of the most influential writers in Christianity in its first few centuries. He believed that Jews should be tolerated by Christians because God chose them for a special purpose. Through the years, however, hostility to the Jews grew; they were made scapegoats for problems and accused of many horrible acts.

Despite this hostility, Jews created communities all over the world. The illustration shows Jewish communities in medieval England. King Henry III instituted repressive laws intended to segregate and oppress Jews. The Statute of Jewry in 1253 had 13 articles, some of which are listed here:

Article One: Jews could live in England provided that they serve the king in some manner. (This might include financial support or civil service.)

Article Two stated that no new synagogues could be constructed.

Article Three: Jews in synagogues must keep their voices low while praying so that no one else could hear them.

Article Four: Jews must donate money to their local Christian church.

Article Five banned Christians from working for Jews or living in Jews' houses.

Article Six banned Jews from eating meat during Lent.

Article Seven: Jews may not publicly dispute the Christian faith.

Article Eight banned romantic relations between Christians and Jews.

Contemporary historian Matthew Paris followed the Augustinian view of Jews, and did not approve of Henry's policies regarding them, which mirrored the papal view at the time (Innocent IV). Through Paris we discover that antipathy toward the Jews was not universal. His tolerant attitude is tested by relating incidents of supposed "blood libel" (the notion that Jews killed Christians in order to use their blood in Jewish rituals), but he has sympathy for their oppression and the financial extortion brought upon them by kings and others who saw Jews as a source of easy money. Through Matthew Paris we can see that the medieval attitude toward Jews was not monolithic.

I want to relate another article of the Statute, however, Article Nine. Article Nine commanded every Jew to wear a badge conspicuously. The yellow Star of David forced upon Jews in Germany during World War II is a familiar image. It turns out, however, that the "yellow badge" has a long history stretching back even before Henry III, but that's a story for tomorrow.

Monday, June 19, 2023

Matthew Paris

Matthew Paris (c.1200 - 1259) was a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of St. Albans, known to us for his numerous illustrated written works. We do not know why his surname was "Paris"; we have no record of him studying or living there, although given the era in which he lived it is not surprising that he wrote in either Latin or Norman French.

He was an Englishman who did get sent to Norway once to reform a Benedictine monastery on the island of Nidarholm. This gave him an opportunity to be an eyewitness to events surrounding King Haakon IV. His status as an eyewitness to history of his time is what makes him so valuable (although we are sure bias crept into some of his work).

His major work was the Chronica Majora, borrowing from Roger of Wendover's Flores Historiarum, but adding his own observations from 1235 on. An abridged version, his Historia Anglorum covers the years 1070 through 1253. There is a manuscript version which also includes the final part of the Chronica Majora covering the years 1254-1259, all in Paris's handwriting except for a last entry making note of Paris's death and having an illustration of him on his deathbed.

All the other illustrations in his writings are by him, and he had decent skill at drawing. Seen here is the most detailed map of four he produced. Another, showing the trip from London to Rome with sketches of some towns along the way, can be seen here. A picture of a beheading is here.

Paris lived while Henry III was King of England, and records many events from his reign. Paris and Roger of Wendover relate their concern about the increasing percentage of (French) foreigners coming to England. Paris and Henry met in 1236 and kept in touch, but Paris did not approve of the direction the reign was going and his account of Henry's actions is often unflattering.

One of Henry's actions that Paris might have approved (I say might)—and the modern world would certainly condemn—is Henry's "Statute of Jewry." I'll tell you about that next time.

Sunday, June 18, 2023

Henry III's Troubles

Henry III's most loyal and powerful supporter was William Marshal, but William's son was not of the same mind. Richard Marshal (1191 - 1234) was William's second son, and became the 3rd Earl of Pembroke on 6 April 1231.

Henry inherited not just a crown from his father, King John, but also a country where the ranks below that of king demanded more authority and autonomy. Magna Carta was not enough, and civil unrest between the crown and less-loyal factions was a constant threat. There were also smaller conflicts that erupted into larger conflicts whenever the king took sides.

The Bishop of Winchester, Peter Des Roches, had been an important figure in Henry's youth, but in 1233 he demanded a manor be returned to a friend of his, Peter de Maulay, from Gilbert Basset, who currently held it due to earlier strife. Henry supported the bishop; Basset resisted; Henry called Basset a traitor; Basset fled to southern Wales where Richard Marshal held lands; Basset had been a friend of Richard's older brother, William, who had been the 2nd Earl of Pembroke after their father. Richard felt he should shelter and support his brother's old friend, so that's what he did.

This was a tense situation. Henry did not want to alienate Richard, and a date was sent to discuss the matter face-to-face in Gloucester, but Richard did not trust that Henry might not use the event to arrest him, so he refused to meet. Henry sent the Bishop of St. Davids to threaten Richard that his relationship with the king was in danger of being cut off. Meanwhile, the king's bailiffs demanded that one of Richard's castles, Usk Castle, be surrendered to them, with which his garrison at Usk complied.

Richard probably did not want to appear to be in rebellion against the king, but when Basset decided to make a cavalry raid across England, he was forced to act. He decided to stick with his original support of Basset. Richard allied with Prince Llywelyn ab Iorwerth of Gwynedd, and quickly seized Usk and other castles. They continued to Monmouth, where Baldwin III, Count of Guînes, came out to fight. The illustration above is from historian Matthew Paris, showing Richard unhorsing Baldwin.

Richard did not have enough forces to go as far as London and challenge the king. Meanwhile, Henry did not want to commit too many forces to deal with Richard, and hoped for a peaceful settlement. A truce with France was coming to a close, and Henry feared using up troops at home in a rebellion when they might be needed on the continent to defend English-held territory there. An attempt at peace on 1 April 1234 negotiated by Templars failed, and a fight broke out during which Richard was wounded. He succumbed to his injuries on 15 April, and the rebellion died with him.

I was going to tell next about one of Henry's policy decisions that the modern world would condemn, but I feel the need to take a side trip to Matthew Paris, whose work has been mentioned several times throughout this blog but has never been given his own entry. That's for tomorrow.

Sunday, January 22, 2023

Edward I — The Child

When Henry III's eldest son was born on 18 June 1239, he gave him an unusual name. Edward was an Anglo-Saxon name, in a court that spoke Norman French. Henry, however, was a great fan of the reputation of Edward the Confessor and celebrated his feast day (Edward had been canonized in 1161) lavishly.

Medieval biographer Matthew Paris reports that the joy at the heir's birth turned sour for some, as Henry made it clear that the messengers sent throughout the realm to announce the birth were supposed to return laden with gifts for the occasion.

Kings and queens did not raised their own children, and Edward was ensconced in his own chamber at Windsor before the end of that summer, and put in the care of Sybil de Cormeilles, who had been Queen Eleanor's midwife and her husband, Hugh Giffard. He also had two wet nurses, Alica and Sarah; the "staff" for the royal babe was rounded out by Walter de Day, a clerk appointed to assist Giffard.

Because it is good for children to have playmates, Edward was joined by a cousin (whose mother died in 1240), two sons of a crossbowman in the king's service, and the son of one of Henry III's knights, Nicholas de Molis.

In October 1242, when Edward was three years old, his father ordered the constable of Windsor to provide two tuns* of good wine for the children, because he had heard that they had no good wine to drink. Also that year the sheriff of Gloucester was ordered to procure 15 lampreys to be sent one by one to the prince's "household." Scarlet robes with fur trim followed for Edward and his one-year-younger sister Margaret, and saddles made with two seats, so they could be taken on rides.

Edward grew tall and athletic, ultimately reaching 6'2" and earning the nickname "Longshanks"; nevertheless, he was frequently ill in his youth. In 1246 he was so ill while the whole family was traveling that his mother stayed with him for three weeks at the abbey where they were housed. The following year Henry asked all religious houses to pray for his health when he fell ill yet again.

We know nothing of his education, but he of course spoke French. He had some knowledge of Latin and could speak at least some English. Whether he could read or write is unknown; he would have had scribes for all his thoughts and proclamations. It was more important that he learn martial skills and knowledge of politics. He was armored and weaponed at the age of 17 for his first tournament in 1256, and remained unscathed despite reports of many injuries. It is uncertain whether his skill or his opponents' respect for his status won that day.

His first years were financed by the Exchequer, but eventually he would be granted the revenues from lands the king held. One of his first grants was the Duchy of Gascony, although he gained no revenue because the 6th Earl of Leicester, Simon de Montfort, had been made its governor.

The Song of Lewes, a Latin poem celebrating Simon de Montfort's victory against Henry and Edward at the Battle of Lewes, refers to Edward as a leopard. It was not meant to be complimentary, which I will explain in the next post.

*A tun was the equivalent of four hogsheads; a hogshead equalled 63 gallons.

Tuesday, September 13, 2022

Queen Cynethryth

If Eadburh, wife of Beorhtric of Wessex, was as vindictive as history reports—exiling and executing enemies—what was the catalyst for that behavior? Did she learn from growing up and watching her mother, Cynethryth?

It is true that the queens of Mercia seem to have a notable amount of authority compared to other royal women—in fact, Cynethryth of Mercia, wife of King Offa, even had her own coinage with her image on it!—but was she actually as terrible and bloodthirsty as we are told?

We don't know anything about her or her parentage until 770, when her name appears as a witness on a charter. The similarity of her name to that of the wife and daughters of King Penda (c.606 - 655) of Mercia (Cynewise, Cyneburh, Cyneswith) suggests she was of that line, which would make her a distant relative of Offa.

The Vitae duorum Offarum ("The lives of the two Offas") relates and compares the stories of the 4th or 5th century Offa of Angel and the Offa of Mercia who reigned in the second half of the 8th century and was married to Cynethryth. Originally thought to be composed by Matthew Paris, it is now thought to be an earlier work. Of Cynethryth, the Vitae calls her "Drida," and that she was Frankish and condemned for some crime to be set adrift at sea. She drifts to the Welsh shore where she is found and brought before Offa. She claims to be a member of Carolingian royalty, and Offa puts her in the care of his mother, Marcellina. Offa eventually falls in love and marries her, after which she changes her name from Drida to Quindrida (from Thryth to Cynethryth).

The minting of coins in her likeness tells us a lot about how much authority Offa gave her. In one of his letter, Alcuin refers to Cynethryth as "controller of the Royal household." The marriage seemed to be a steady one. Alcuin, writing to their son Ecgfrith, advised him to follow the example of his parents, and comments on her piety.

What the crime was that originally caused her to be set adrift, we'll never know. Æthelberht II, King of East Anglia and Alfred the Great's older brother (died 20 May 794) is said to have been assassinated by Offa. Later chroniclers suggest that Cynethryth was more involved. This may be simply because of the earlier tale of her coming into the picture as an exiled criminal. There are no specifics or evidence that she was inciting executions or assassinations.

It is not unknown, however, that early kings would kill off even relatives in order to make succession clear and avoid attempts at usurpation of civil war. When Offa's and Cynethryth's only son, Ecgfrith, reigned a mere 141 days, the only heir to the throne of Mercia was a very distant relive, Coenwulf, because nearer relatives had been eliminated by Offa. Alcuin himself acknowledged this, writing:

That most noble young man has not died for his sins, but the vengeance for the blood shed by the father has reached the son. For you know how much blood his father shed to secure the kingdom upon his son. ... This was not a strengthening of the kingdom, but its ruin.

The last reference we have to Cynethryth was in 798, when she was present at the Synod of Clovesho in a dispute regarding the monastery at Cookham. I'll explain her connection to that dispute, and talk about the Synods, next time.

Friday, April 22, 2022

How To Get There - Maps

The Middle Ages did not have maps the way we think of them. Or rather they had maps, but not for the purpose we would think of them. There were some general purpose maps that tried to show the world, or the country; maybe even a town. But a map you could use to travel from place to place easily?

Travel from village to village would be simply. You'd ask for directions from someone who'd been there. The lack of Welcome signs at the border of towns meant you should simply as the people you run into if you have reached the intended town. There might not even be a road or path; the directions might be "over the hill" or "follow the river downstream."

To get from one place to another, often the directions were simply an itinerary, a list of the towns and landmarks along the way. Some of these exist, such as the manuscript of Archbishop Sigeric of Canterbury, who visited Rome in 990; his list of churches and the route he followed is in the British Library. Many of these itineraries would probably be used once and tossed away.

Also in the British Library is the manuscript illustrated here. It is by Matthew Paris, and shows how to get from London to Rome with sketches of the places along the way!

Some trips were made solely to visit holy shrines, such as the famous shrine of St. James in Santiago de Compostela in Galicia. These places were visited by so many people that you could more easily find directions as well as traveling companions.

I want to take a closer look at Sigeric next.

Thursday, September 20, 2018

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).

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

The Crusade Nobody Wanted

In 1244, allies of the Egyptian Mamluks, retreating westward from the advancing Mongols, stopped at Jerusalem long enough to recapture it from European Christian control. Jerusalem had come under Christian control during the Sixth Crusade under Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II in 1228.

King/Saint Louis sailing on the Seventh Crusade
King Louis IX of France, whose devotion was so great that he became Saint Louis, immediately began planning an action to return Jerusalem to Christian control. He sent word throughout Europe to join him in a Seventh Crusade.

Europe's response to this calamity was not what one would expect. The truth is, Europe was pretty busy with its own problems. The Pope, Innocent IV, who under usual circumstances would have been the one to call a Crusade, was locked in a political struggle with Frederick II over the question of which of them controlled the Holy Roman Empire. Henry III of England was dealing with Simon de Montfort's rebellion. (Henry did agree not to attack France while Louis was away.)

Louis appealed to Hungary, but King Béla IV was rebuilding after a Mongol invasion. Louis even appealed to King Haakon IV of Norway. Haakon was interested in making deeper European ties, and had made a vow of Crusade once, but then converted it to a vow to fight against pagans in the north (Mongols had started coming north). Louis sent Matthew Paris to offer Haakon command of the French fleet, but Haakon refused.

The only person in Europe who was keen for this Crusade was Louis himself, but as a "one man show" he was very well organized. He commissioned ships to be built specifically for transporting his men and horses and supplies, and raised money by collecting a tithe (tenth) from churches. He sailed to Cyprus for the winter, negotiating with other forces (such as the Knights Templar) for mutual help. He then went to Egypt, where he took the town of Damietta to use as a base. Then the annual flooding of the Nile took place, and he was grounded for six months.

From there it went downhill.

Monday, September 22, 2014

The Scottish-English Border

The border separating England from Scotland almost became a little thicker last week, and this week is the anniversary of its creation, with the Treaty of York on 25 September 1237. The border had, not surprisingly, fluctuated over the years, but the Treaty of York effectively stopped Scotland's attempts to push south.

The Treaty itself was not a grandly historical moment—and historians often skip over it when discussing relations between the two countries—but the event is interesting because of the account by Matthew Paris and the relationship between the participants, King Alexander II of Scotland and King Henry III of England. The two of them worked well together when they had to; after all, Alexander had married Henry's sister Joan in 1221, and Alexander's sister had married Henry's former regent, the influential Hubert de Burgh.

But Matthew Paris (known for being less than objective or factual) made the Treaty far more interesting by lying about the signing. He had nothing good to say about Alexander, portraying him as uncivil and aggressive toward the attending papal legate, Otho, who had been invited by Henry. Supposedly, Alexander claimed that, since no papal legate had ever been to Scotland, he would not allow any papal legate to visit the country. This was untrue, since papal legates had visited Scotland under Alexander's grandfather, uncle, and father; Alexander himself had seen a papal legate earlier.

The Treaty did not end a vicious war or curtail a rebellion; in some ways, it merely ratified current conditions. Scotland gave up claims to Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmorland, and gave up a debt of 15,000 silver marks owed to Scotland that had been given to King John. Scotland also forgave the breaking of promises to marry some of Alexander's sisters to prominent Englishmen. England, in turn, gave Scotland specific territories within Northumberland and Cumberland, with complete judicial control over actions within.

Both countries also ratified that previous treaties and agreements that did not contradict the Treaty of York would be honored.

All in all, the Treaty did not seem to do much, and yet unfulfilled aristocratic marriage promises, royal debts, and border disputes had been enough to cause war, or at least great hostility between nations. The document signed at York that day may well have prevented much strife that otherwise would have followed.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Pirate Monk

The defeat of Eustace the Black at the Battle of Sandwich,
from Matthew Paris
Eustace Busket was born about 1170 near Boulogne on the northwestern coast of France, in a high-ranking family. A younger son with few prospects of inheriting, he went to Toledo in Spain where he studied magical least, that was his reputation, and it served him well in his later career.

After Spain he went home and became a Benedictine monk. By 1202, he had become seneschal and bailiff for Count Renaud de Dammartin of Boulogne. In 1204, accused of improper conduct, Eustace fled Boulogne and became an outlaw.

He turned to piracy, and terrorized the English Channel for his won gain and sometimes in the employ of others. He was hired by King John of England to command 30 ships in order to harass Philip II of France. John had to outlaw Eustace when Eustace started raiding English villages, but soon pardoned him because he needed his help.

His biography* tells us that Count Renaud allied himself with John against Philip and poisoned John's mind against Eustace, who then offered his service to Philip in 1212. John was having plenty of trouble in his own country, and when the barons rose up against John, Eustace supported them, even bringing Philip across the Channel to join them in their revolt.

Eustace took part in many sea battles, his final one being the Battle of Sandwich on 24 August 1217, when the ships of Philip d'Aubigny's English fleet surrounded and captured him. He tried to buy his way out of danger, but they were having none of it. Matthew Paris tells of his beheading at sea (pictured above).

*You can check it out here.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Ultimate Torture

We have so often heard the phrase "hanged, drawn and quartered" that we probably don't think about the details--or perhaps we simply ignore the details because our imaginations can supply them quite readily. The truth is, however, that the phrase became standard despite the fact that it could mean different things.

From the Chronica majora of Matthew Paris.
"Hanged" is pretty self-explanatory, "quartering" we can picture, but it's the "drawn" that presents confusion, since in the case of execution it can mean two things. On the one hand, it can refer to being dragged to the place of execution, either by being tied directly to a horse, or by being tied to a board that is dragged by a horse (the second method was developed so that the victim had a chance to be still alive and capable of further suffering). Matthew Paris illustrates an example of the first method in his Chronicle when he relates the story of a would-be assassin of Henry III. This story, in fact, is the earliest example we have of the multi-phase style of execution that evolved into "HDaQ." There was a second meaning of "draw" that applied to this punishment, however, for which I (thankfully) do not have an illustration: to draw out the intestines/organs of a person. We have several written accounts of this taking place, however.

Was there a distinction between HDaQ and DHaQ? That is, if the sentence was "hanged, drawn and quartered" did it always mean the convicted was disemboweled between the hanging and the quartering? Scholars disagree on this, and there is a case to be made that having "drawn" in the second position in the phrase could mean the convict was dragged, not disemboweled; it was merely mentioned second (although it might have taken place first, to get the convicted to the gallows) because it was not as significant as the hanging itself.

Whatever the case, the hanging was the trickiest part, because the goal was to strangle the victim just enough, but not kill him outright: you wanted him alive so he could suffer during the next step(s). The plan didn't always work: one victim was so hated that members of the crowd pulled down on his legs while he was hanging and hastened his death, and Guy Fawkes of Gunpowder Plot fame threw himself from the gallows platform, breaking his neck and cheating the Crown of its chance to punish him further.

Still, even if you survived the hanging and drawing—whichever definition was used—you usually weren't conscious (much less living) once the quartering started. So was the quartering essential to the process? Sure, because quartering wasn't part of the sentence for its value as torture. Quartering was important so that different body parts could be sent to different parts of the kingdom to be put on display as a warning to others who might be contemplating treason. The head, of course, was often prominently displayed on London Bridge, the major southern entrance into London, so that visitors and citizens could see it. I wonder if the mob of the Peasants Revolt saw any heads as they marched on London?