Attacks on Flemings

Whan Adam delf, and Eve span,
Wo was thanne a gentilman?

This was part of a sermon allegedly delivered in Blackheath the night before that group of peasants descended upon London during the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. Although the catalyst for the Revolt may have been a poll tax, resentments against the upper classes were always ready to boil over. Flemings were not generally a large part of the countryside peasant population.

Flemings were, however, mentioned specifically in one account of the Revolt, and it has two curious features. The account in MS Cotton Julius B.II. ends with the lines:

...and many fflemynges lost here heedes at that tyme, and namely they that koude nat say 'breede and chese", but "case en brode".

It was curious that Flemings were mentioned specifically. Also, contemporary references to language in the 14th century are extremely rare, so why distinguish these foreigners with a reference to their tendency to idiomatically express "bread and cheese" as "case and brode." (Modern German for cheese is still "Käse" and for bread is "Brot" with a long ō sound.)

One of the targets for destruction was the "stews" or brothels of Southwark, just south of London across the Thames. It was an area well known for prostitution, and that particular profession at that time was dominated by Flemings. One particular Fleming-run brothel was invaded and destroyed by the mob, but it was owned by the mayor of London, William Walworth, so the destruction may have been aimed at him as a representative of the upper classes—in the spirit of the first quotation above—rather than the foreigners specifically.

But it seems likely that the Revolt, as often happens, "broadened its scope" as the angry mob let its anger focus on several different targets, whether they were a rational reason for the start of the Revolt or not. Xenophobia has been a part of human culture since the beginning of human societies, I would wager, and 14th century England was no different. Distinguishing foreigners by their idiomatic expressions of everyday objects like "bread and cheese" is petty, racist, and perfectly believable.

There was, in fact, other acts of violence against Flemings on the same day of the Revolt, 13 June, as well as the following day, that are not mentioned in any chronicle of the Revolt itself, but come from the law courts. There is a pardon for a man from Holborn who killed seven Flemings just north of London, at Clerkenwell, on 13 June. On 14 June, 35 Flemings were dragged from St. Martin Vintry church and beheaded. The official London records confirm that rebels dragged Flemings from houses and churches in Vintry ward, resulting in 40 decapitated bodies in the street.

Hostility against Flemings continued in the week after the Revolt, and at various locations not connected to the Revolt. Chaucer even refers to the attacks on the Flemings. He was a likely witness to the event, since he was living in an apartment at one of the city gates at the time. In the Nun's Priest's Tale he refers to the shrill voices of the rebels as they killed Flemings.

Why the Peasants' Revolt turned into an opportunity to show extreme prejudice against Flemings particularly is unclear. Flemings would not have been the only foreigners in London, nor did they represent the upper classes, which was one of the targets of the Revolt. It may have been a case of "foreigners taking our jobs." Coastal flooding several years earlier in the Low Countries had caused many weavers from Flanders to seek a living elsewhere, and there was an influx of Flemish weavers into the English textile scene in the 1370s that caused hostility from the English weavers. This was not a new development, however: Edward III had encouraged Flemish weavers in the 1330s to settle in England. Of course his wife, Queen Philippa, was from the Low Countries, and his suggestion may have been at her suggestion.

It might also be that they wanted to help Fleming peasants who had held their own uprising a few years earlier, which we will look at next.

Chaucer's First Boss

A page at work

Lionel, the son of King Edward III of England and Queen Philippa, was born in Antwerp in Flanders in 1338 during the start of the Hundred Years War. He was betrothed at the age of three to the nine-year-old Elizabeth de Burgh, sole heiress to the Earl of Ulster. They were married in 1355, and Lionel became the Earl of Ulster.

An earl's household is a grand one, especially if he's also a son of the king. His wife, if she is the Countess of Ulster, also has a great household with many servants. Into Elizabeth's household, from 1356 to 1359, came a young boy named Geoffrey. His father, vintner John Chaucer, had actually accompanied Lionel's parents on the Flanders trip on which Lionel was born, and had been put in charge of the king's wine imports in Southampton. These connections gave him the chance to place his son in service to the aristocracy, which could open doors for future careers, including that of a knight.

A boy could become a page at the age of seven. Pages would learn to serve at table, carry messages or perform small daily tasks. They might care for the household's clothing. They were also likely to engage in military training against the day when they might become a knight or soldier.

In 1359, Geoffrey Chaucer was taken from the Countess of Ulster and put under Lionel in order to add to the troops that Lionel would command during that phase of the Hundred Years War. There was, however, one link to the Countess of Ulster later in his life: Chaucer married Philippa Roet, who started as a lady-in-waiting in the household of the Countess of Ulster.

The Burghers of Calais

The Burghers of Calais, by Rodin

The story of the Burghers of Calais is one of those that "everyone knows" and no one bothers to examine critically. Reported first by Jean le Bel (c.1290 - c.1370) and most famously by Jean Froissart (c.1333 - c.1400; he lived a short time at the court of Edward and Philippa and spoke highly of them both), it tells of the result of a siege in Calais during the early stages of the Hundred Years War.

Edward, right after the Battle of Crécy, laid siege to Calais. Philip VI of France could not help, and Calais had to capitulate to avoid starvation. Edward said he would refrain from punishing the city for holding out against him if six of their leaders would sacrifice themselves to him, appearing before him with nooses around their necks. The story gores that Edward was in his rights to hang them, and that no one could persuade him otherwise. No one, that is, until his wife, Queen Philippa of Hainault, spoke to him. She entreated him to mercy, and he relented and set the six burghers free.

The legacy of this anecdote is that the six burghers (whose names are known; they were led by Eustache de Saint-Pierre) were strong and steadfast patriots, that Edward was within his rights to execute them, and that only his love and admiration for his wife's feelings turned his heart and inspired him to mercy.

Rather sweet, actually.

But likely a misinterpretation of the facts of the case, caused by propaganda created by the original chroniclers. Appearing with nooses already around their necks was a common form of public penance, and such a public ceremony took place once the outcome were already complete. Exchequer records of the time show that Eustache de Saint-Pierre received money from Edward, suggesting that there were behind-the-scenes negotiations designed to make everyone feel better about moving forward after this incident. In this regard, the burghers were not brave souls standing up to the King of England; they were beaten men who were agreeing in public that he had won and they were now promising to be subservient.*

History loves seeing brave and defiant underdogs, however, and the reputation of these "common men" standing up to Edward is not likely to be changed in any history books. In Calais now you can find a famous statue of the Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin, created in 1899, the commemorates the incident.

*For more, see Les Bourgeois de Calais: Essai sur un Mythe Historique ["The Burghers Of Calais: An Essay On A Historical Myth"], by Jean-Marie Moeglin of the Sorbonne. It is a very detailed analysis of the history and legacy of this story (I, personally, however, still want to believe that Philippa had some part in softening Edward's heart—even though her intervention was likely superfluous. I guess I'm a romantic.)

Philippa of Hainault

Philippa of Hainault,
finally becoming Queen of England

Philippa of Hainault has been mentioned as a minor part of the story of the Battle of Cassel, and as the person who introduced the herb rosemary to England. She was born on 24 June 1314, the daughter of Count William I of Hainault and Joan of Valois.

When she was only 12 years old, she was promised in marriage to Edward, Duke of Guyenne. This was an important betrothal, because Edward would one day become King Edward III of England. The marriage took place in 1327—sort of—when Edward sent the Bishop of Coventry to marry her by proxy and cement the relationship. Edward became king on 1 February 1327, and the second ("actual") marriage was celebrated on 24 January 1328. She was not crowned a Queen right away, however. The country was still in the hands of Edward III's regents, his mother Queen Dowager Isabella and Roger Mortimer, the lover she had taken. Isabella was not keen to have another queen in England, so Philippa's coronation did not take place until March 1330 when she was already six months pregnant with Edward, the Black Prince.

Philippa's gentle ways were much loved by the English citizenry; rather than bring a retinue of servants, she maintained only a few of her countrymen and embraced the English in the palace. She urged Edward to focus on England's commercial opportunities, especially the textile industry (which she knew something about because of Hainault's success in this area).

She also fulfilled one of the main functions of a queen admirably: she bore Edward 14 children, nine of whom died before she did, including her eldest, Edward the Black Prince. The descendants of her children would ultimately contest the throne in generations to come, creating the 30-year period of hostility known as the Wars of the Roses.

She and Edward were married for 40 years and held up as an exemplary couple as well as exemplary individuals. (True, Edward had an affair with one of Philippa's ladies-in-waiting, but this seems to have caused no public difficulty between him and his queen.) She died on 15 August 1369

Philippa is especially known for an episode involving problems between Edward and the Burghers of Calais. I'll tell you about that 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.

Rosemary in England

The fragrant and tasty rosemary (from ros marinus, "dew of the sea") grows natively in the Mediterranean. Perform an Internet search for "rosemary + England + herb" and you'll likely be told that it was brought to England by Queen Philippa of Hainault in 1327, when she married Edward III of England. (Examples are here, here, and here; but don't bother.)

The origin of this story seems to be with the translator of a manuscript found in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. The manuscript is a poetic treatise sent by Queen Philippa's mother, the Countess of Hainault, about rosemary's many uses. Presumably it was sent with a rosemary plant, and thus the legend of the introduction of rosemary to England was born. The treatise has such useful advice as:

mighteth the boones and causeth goode and gladeth and lighteth all men that use it. The leves layde under the heade whanne a man slepes, it doth away evell spirites and suffereth not to dreeme fowle dremes ne to be afeade. But he must be out of deedely synne for it is an holy tree.

Strengthens the bones and causes good, and gladdens and lightens all men that use it. The leaves, laid under the head when a man sleeps, do away with evil spirits, and will not allow one to dream foul dreams or be afraid. But he must not be in a state of sin, for it is a holy tree.

So was it known in England before the 14th century?

The British Library has a manuscript (Royal 12, D xvii) known colloquially as "Bald's Leechbook,"* a ninth-century medical text written in Old English. Rosemary is mentioned in a number of remedies, for fever, horses leprosy, and toothache (always mixed with multiple other substances). It is highly likely that the Saxons found rosemary growing all over England because of its introduction by the Romans centuries earlier.

*Bald's Leechbook deserves its own entry or three. [Update: here it is.]