Showing posts with label Pirate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pirate. Show all posts

Sunday, February 5, 2023

Those Despensers!

One of the complaints about King Edward II of England by his barons was that he took the wrong people into his confidence and acted on their advice. Much is made of the colorful and witty Piers Gaveston, who Edward's father had attached to his son's household while they were both young. Many historians allow discussing Gaveston's relationship with Edward to overshadow the influence on Edward of the Despensers.

Hugh le Despenser the Younger was a few years younger than Edward. Through no effort on his own part, he became extremely wealthy and powerful. The young king—who was known for treating friends and favorites well—gave him estates and castles. His marriage to Eleanor de Clare in summer of 1306 was partially arranged because her grandfather, Edward I, owed Hugh's father 2000 marks. The debt was considered paid by his marriage into a wealthy noble family. Since his wife was also niece of the new king, Hugh was even closer to the royal family.

Then her brother was killed in 1314 at the Battle of Bannockburn. Her brother was Gilbert, 8th Earl of Gloucester, and through Eleanor Hugh inherited one-third of the Gloucester estates. Landless when first knighted, in a few years he became one of the wealthiest knights in England.

A few years after Gaveston's death, Edward elevated Hugh to the important position of chamberlain. The older barons saw this as yet another instance of Edward forsaking them for younger and less suitable councillors.

Hugh was not careful with his authority, alienating Edward's queen, Isabella of France. He also vowed revenge on Roger Mortimer, whom Queen Isabella took into her confidence (and perhaps her bed), because Mortimer's grandfather had killed Hugh's grandfather. Hugh also was known to seize lands that were not his own, and cheating others of their properties. In August of 1321, the barons forced Hugh and his father, Hugh le Despenser the Elder, into exile. The Vita Edwardi Secundi ("Life of Edward the Second"), covering the years of Edward's reign up to 1326, says the Younger became a pirate in the English Channel during this time, "a sea monster, lying in wait for merchants as they crossed the sea."

Edward recalled the Despensers from exile, and they and their forces helped him to put down a rebellion, capture Mortimer, and execute one of Edward's harshest critics, Lancaster. The wheel of fortune turns, however, and there was no long and contented life ahead of Hugh. For details of his death, you will have to come back tomorrow.

Saturday, November 26, 2022

The Bishop Pirate

William of Newburgh tells the story of a bishop whose actions were contrary to what was expected by a man of God. More recent research offers hypotheses for why a bishop might turn into a pirate and the scourge of Scotland.

"born in the most obscure spot in England," Wimund was educated at Furness Abbey. He was tall and fair, and had a good speaking voice, but had a proud heart and expected to accomplish great things. He claimed to be the son of the Earl of Moray, which seemed unlikely, but more recent theories are that he was possibly the illegitimate son of Óengus of Moray, who became Earl after Wimund was born, or possibly the illegitimate grandson of King Duncan II.

At some point Furness is asked to create a sister abbey at Rushen on the Isle of Man, part of the Kingdom of the Isles. The well-spoken Wimund was made Bishop of the Isles by Thurstan, Archbishop of York. While bishop, according to Newburgh, at some point he started claiming that he wa deprived of his proper inheritance by the King of Scotland. He gathered supporters, promised them to share in his successes and riches, and embarked on a career of descending on

...the provinces of Scotland, wasting all before him with rapine and slaughter; but whenever the royal army was dispatched against him, he eluded the whole warlike preparation, either by retreating to distant forests, or taking to the sea; and when the troops had retired, he again issued from his hiding-places to ravage the provinces.

Unable to stop Wimund's reign of terror, bought him off by giving him Furness and the territory around, giving him some feudal opportunity to collect taxes, etc. Those who suffered under him, however, did not appreciate this. They waited until they could find him separated from his men, captured him, castrated him, and blinded him.

He was forcibly retired to Byland Abbey, where William of Newburgh resided. He had no regret for his actions, however. In Newburgh's words:

Afterwards he came to us at Byland, and quietly continued there many years till his death. But he is reported even there to have said, that had he only the eye of a sparrow his enemies should have little occasion to rejoice at what they had done to him.

If you want to read his story according to Newburgh, you can find it here.

His success in piracy was probably because his attacks were in the Kingdom of the Isles, a series of locations far enough apart that it wasn't easy for the king to send troops to deal with him, as opposed to on the Scottish mainland. We will look at the geography and history of the Kingdom of the Isles tomorrow.

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

The Holy Land Decrees

Desiring with an ardent desire to liberate the Holy Land from the hands of the ungodly, we decree with the advice of prudent men who are fully familiar with the circumstances of the times, and with the approval of the council, that all who have taken the cross and have decided to cross the sea, hold themselves so prepared that they may, on June 1 of the year after next (1217), come together in the Kingdom of Sicily, some at Brundusium and others at Messana, where, God willing, we (the Pope) will be present personally to order and to bestow on the Christian army the divine and Apostolic blessing. [link, bottom of the page]


Thus begins the Holy Land Decrees at the end of the Canons of the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215. Pope Innocent was extremely motivated to call for a Crusade, not only because he was the pope, and restoring Jerusalem to Christian rule was important to him, but also because of the disaster that was the Fourth Crusade that got sidetracked and ransacked Constantinople in 1204. The Crusade effort needed to be carefully organized to avoid that outcome. The Decree continues:

Moreover, that nothing connected with the affairs of our Lord Jesus Christ be omitted, we wish and command that patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, abbots, and others who have the care of souls, diligently explain the meaning of the crusade to those committed to them...

The Council wanted to make sure the Crusaders were absolutely committed to the goal, in order to prevent being sidetracked. The Decree went a little further, and you have to give them credit for thinking ahead. Getting to the Holy Land from Europe meant going by water (an overland march would take many months), and travel by water had its own dangers:

Since the corsairs and pirates too vehemently impede assistance to the Holy Land by capturing and robbing those who go there and those returning, we excommunicate them and their principal abetters and protectors, 

...and because no one wants any global distractions:

But, since for the success of this undertaking it is above all else necessary that princes and Christian people maintain peace among themselves, we decree with the advice of the holy council that for four years peace be observed in the whole Christian world,

So...with all this preparation, why does the graphic above show no Crusade taking place in 1217? What happened to the Fifth Crusade? See you tomorrow.

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).

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Medieval Pirates

Piracy on the seven seas goes back a long way.

Think of fairly small ships roughing it on the open sea with little defense, not the rows of cannons you see in ships of later centuries. Even a "royal navy" would be small and not necessarily able to swiftly come to the aid of each other if a couple vessels of well-armed and determined sailors approached them. Also, maintaining a navy could be expensive. Even Henry VI in the early 15th century got rid of his standing navy, prepared to hire ships if ever he needed them.

Not that piracy wasn't a known peril; it just wasn't easy to control, although attempts were made. Of course it was outlawed, but catching and punishing a pirate was not the easiest of tasks.

The image here is a modern translation/copy of the earliest known record of punishment for a pirate prior to the 1700s. It reads:
An order was given to the Bailiffs of York as to the ship which they caused to be arrested because William de Briggeho, who was afterwards hanged for consorting with malefactors who robbed her off Sandwich, was found on board her.
The lord the King, has ascertained by inquisition that the ship, together with the chattels on board her, belonged to William Belemund, of Grimsby, and he commanded the bailiffs that they should cause her to be delivered to William Belemund without delay.
Witness, &c.
1228
September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Monday, August 3, 2015

The Pirate Queen

Medieval wives were not always the stay-at-home type, and some of them acted in ways that were far from the mold of what we think of as a spouse.  Jeanne de Clisson was one such.

Born in 1300 as Jeanne de Belleville, Dame de Montaigou, she was married at 12 to the 19-year-old Geoffrey de Châteaubriant. Geoffrey died in 1326, and four years later Jeanne married her contemporary, Olivier III de Clisson of Brittany. The match seemed a good one, and while she was raising the five children she bore him, Olivier was off helping Charles de Blois fight against Edward III of England (this was during the Hundred Years war).

Because of a failure to hold a territory against the English, Olivier was accused of being an English sympathizer. Affronted, he turned an accusation to a certainty and began to support the English. In 1343, although there was no active military engagement going on, Olivier was arrested while at a tournament and taken to Paris, where he was tried and executed for treason.

Jeanne, outraged, sold off what remained to her of the Brittany estates and spent the money on three warships and a crew. She had them painted black, and took to the waters of the English Channel. She hunted down and destroyed ships of the French king, always leaving a few alive to spread the word that it was Jeanne de Clisson who was causing such trouble for the country that killed her husband and lover.

She may have helped provision Edward's forces leading up to the Battle of Crécy in 1346. She was  certainly no threat to English ships, and in 1356 she retired after 13 years of piracy to England, where she married Sir Walter Bentley. After his death, she retired to Hennebont on the coast of Brittany, where she died in 1359. Coincidentally, Hennebont was home to another Breton woman who bridged the gap from feminine decorum to military action.

But that's a story for another day.