The Pope Steps In

Despite Hubert de Burgh's support of Henry III at the start of his minority reign, the two had fallen out and Hubert was in danger. Ultimately, a letter from the pope tried to resolve the situation.

Pope Gregory IX sent Henry a letter, chastising him for his treatment of Hubert who had been so loyal and helpful for so long. Henry did not want to disobey the pope: not only was he a faithful Christian, but his father, King John, had offered England as a vassal state to the papacy during his troubles, expecting that papal support would be enormously useful against his barons and France. Henry gave Hubert back his status as Earl of Kent, but only some of the lands he had formerly possessed.

In 1234, some of Hubert's enemies, including the king's former tutor, the French Peter des Roches, were dismissed from court (there was some anti-French feeling among the increasingly "English-oriented" Anglo-Norman country). This made Hubert's life even easier, until 1236, when the king found out about Richard de Clare.

Richard de Clare was the young Earl of Gloucester. In 1236 he was only 14 and the king's ward, but Henry had asked Hubert to raise him. While in Hubert's care, Hubert had married his daughter Margaret to Richard, although they were both children. This had been done without the king's blessing or his knowledge. The earldom of Gloucester was large and powerful, and Henry realized this alliance would potentially give more power to Hubert's family. Hubert's argument when called to court was that he was in sanctuary from the king's wrath at the time and had nothing to do with it. The king was ultimately convinced of Hubert's lack of involvement, but the marriage ended—we're not sure by annulment or Margaret's death. (Richard de Clare married Maud de Lacy, daughter of the Earl of Lincoln.)

Henry did not give up, however (we just don't know why he wanted so desperately to destroy Hubert). Hubert was accused by Henry of deliberately losing Poitou to the French, inappropriately seducing the Scottish princess who was his wife (his daughter Margaret's mother was Princess Margaret of Scotland, daughter of William the Lion and sister of Alexander II), and even attempting to assassinate Henry. Hubert's lawyer successfully defended him against all the charges. Hubert retired to his estates and stayed out of the public eye until his death on 12 May 1243. He had two sons from his first marriage, but they were not allowed to inherit the earldom, as it was limited to descendants of Hubert and his third wife, Margaret. They only had the one daughter.

In between those two was a second marriage, to the queen of England! That is a story worth telling next time.

Illiteratus

Things seemed to be going well for Ralph Neville, the Bishop of Chichester and Lord Chancellor for life. He had a nice new manor on New Street, appointments that brought him revenues, he was reforming the way Chancery and records-keeping were managed, and the monks of Canterbury Cathedral elected him Archbishop of Canterbury on 24 September 1231. There was opposition to this, from an important roadblock: Pope Gregory IX. Gregory declared Neville illiteratus.

Now, the term wasn't used the same way as it is today. At the time it did not mean he couldn't read and write, just that he was "unlearned." Many important positions were appointed from the clergy, and clergy were often university trained. Neville was not. In fact, there's no reason to believe he ever intended to be educated or a priest: he started a royal clerk under King John and was ordained to legitimize his lucrative appointment as Bishop of Chichester (arms shown to the left). Stephen Langton, the Archdeacon of Canterbury, described Neville as a courtier instead of a true priest.

With Canterbury denied him*, he was still secure in his positions at Chichester and as Chancellor. Or was he? He had been granted, by the king, the right of exemption from seizure of his possessions if he fell out of favor. King Henry also agreed not to interfere with Neville's will (yeah, the king could say "Hey! You cannot bequeath that property to someone else; I gave it to you and I'll decide where it goes once you're dead!").

Henry decided, however, to take away the Chancellor position in 1236. We're not sure why, but perhaps the courtier did not appear to support the king in all things. When Hubert de Burgh (mentioned here and an even more significant supportive figure in Henry's life) fell out with the king and sought sanctuary, Henry wanted him dragged physically out of the church to face punishment. Neville opposed the king on this. Neville also was elected, by the cathedral chapter of Winchester, as Bishop of Winchester. Henry had wanted them to elect William of Savoy, the Bishop of Valence, who happened to be the uncle of Eleanor of Provence, Henry's queen. There may have been other arguments.

Neville argued with Henry that, since the chancellorship had been given to him by the Great Council during Henry's minority, only the Great Council had the authority to take it away. Henry was able to deprive Neville of possession of the Great Seal, but Neville retained the title Chancellor. In May 1242, however, Henry went to France, and the Great Seal needed a responsible holder for official documents, so it went back to Neville temporarily. Although Henry returned from France in September 1243, the Great Seal along with Neville's signature is found on some documents after that date.

Neville died in the first week of February 1244 in his palace on New Street and was buried in Chichester Cathedral. 

Kings giveth, and kings taketh away. The falling out with Hubert de Burgh would have shocked many, considering how much Henry owed him, including (possibly) his life! I'll dig into that relationship tomorrow.

*...and by the way, the next two appointments were also squashed by Gregory, preventing a true Archbishop of Canterbury until 1240

Ralph Neville

Ralph Neville is an example of a powerful figure in Medieval English administration whose personal details are little known. He was ordained on 21 April 1224, and if that ere his first step onto a public stage it would have been likely that he was born about 1200, or not much before. Ordination would also have required a special dispensation, because he was known to be illegitimate.

Ordination was not his first step into adulthood, however; he had been a known quantity for some time, and ordination was merely a formality so that he could be given more positions.

We do not know when he was born, but in 1207 he was already a royal clerk under King John (1166 - 1216), and by 1213 he was entrusted with the Great Seal, used to show royal approval of documents. The Great Seal is usually held by the Chancellor, but the chancellor at the time was Walter de Gray, who was also Archbishop of York (successor of another illegitimate cleric—this one the son of a king—whose story was told here and here). Walter was a steadfast supporter of John, and there was a reason for having the Seal given to another, but maybe I'll save that for his story some day.

Anyway, Nevile was moving up in the ranks. In 1214 he was appointed to Chancery through the effort of one of King John's favorites and his son Henry's tutor, Bishop of Winchester Peter des Roches. After John's death, Neville remained at court, still holding the Great Seal as vice-chancellor under Richard Marsh. Marsh had been appointed Bishop of Durham and was off dealing with diocesan affairs, leaving Neville effectively running the administration of the kingdom, since King Henry was only ten years old.

Keep in mind that a bishop had access to revenues from all the lands in the diocese, so appointing someone a bishop was a greta gift—even if they did not do anything to administer to their diocese. Neville was ordained in 1224 so that he could properly be Bishop of Chichester, to which he had been appointed two years earlier! He, however, remained in London with the king, often ignoring requests to come to Chichester and manage disputes there.

His own appointment to Lord Chancellor came on 17 May 1226, with the promise that it would be for life. He started reforms in Chancery, evolving it into its own governmental department and not just a division of the king's household. The contemporary Matthew Paris praised him for fairness and transparency in his office.

He built a grand manor, the Bishop of Chichester's Inn, to the west of London proper on a street called New Street (but now Chancery Lane), a short walk north of the Domus Conversorum. All was going well, until he was elected Archbishop of Canterbury, the prime ecclesiastical position in England. His journey hit a speed bump in the name of Pope Gregory IX. I'll explain tomorrow.

Avoiding Pregnancy

Yesterday we talked about medieval parents having large families. Today we're going to talk about preventing large families. Although Canon Law insisted that sex was solely to be engaged in for procreation, in the "real world" that was not a feasible attitude. (Pope Gregory IX even stated that marriages entered into intending not to have children were ipso facto null.) There were, therefore, plenty of instances where becoming pregnant was not a desirable outcome of sex. Therefore, methods were devised for avoiding pregnancy.

The simplest one was for the woman to track her menstruation. Lack of menstruation could lead to pregnancy, so either knowing reliably when menstruation would occur or inducing it was one method. Herbal remedies were often readily available around the house as prophylactics against pregnancy. Parsley, Queen Anne's Lace,* and Pennyroyal were considered effective in inhibiting fertility.

Another way to prevent pregnancy was by inserting something into the cervix. Lacking modern IUDs, Avicenna's Canon of Medicine suggests mint "in there" would prevent conception. Aristotle taught that rubbing the womb with cedar oil, lead ointment or incense, mixed with olive oil, would prevent the sperm from coming in contact with the woman. (The lead ointment had other damaging effects.) Also, wooden blocks were not uncommon, and very uncomfortable.

One could try to prevent the sperm from reaching its goal through a barrier, or one could try to kill the sperm. Medieval and Classical spermicides included inserting a cloth after the act that was soaked in vinegar, or honey, or grated acacia leaves soaked in honey (the sap in acacia is spermicidal).

Another way to "avoid pregnancy" is to pretend one is not pregnant. I grew up understanding the meaning of the phrase "she's gone to her sister's" to explain a long absence.

A French novel (only a little later than the Middle Ages) has advice to a teenage girl about sex, and assures the girl that getting pregnant unexpectedly is easily managed, but not by abortion:

...moreover, to remove any worry, there is one more thing to consider, it is that this mishap is not so extraordinary that one should fear it so much. There are so many pregnant girls who never attract notice, thanks to certain corsets and dresses made to order, which they use, and which do not prevent them from having a good time with those who made them pregnant.

...and during that interval, you can simulate illness, trips, pilgrimages. When the time comes, you will identify a midwife who is obliged in conscience to keep the fact hidden. [L'Escole des Filles]

If the calendar was off, if contraception didn't work, then eliminating the fetus was the next step, but we'll look at that grisly topic tomorrow

*The name is for Anne, Queen of Great Britain (1665 - 1714); earlier names would have been "bishop's lace" or "bird's nest" or simply "wild carrot."

Ubertino of Casale

St. Francis of Assisi insisted on personal poverty for members of the order he founded, the idea that one should have no possessions and live with as little as possible. Over time, some members of the Franciscans felt that this restriction was not being observed the way it should, and they started practicing the extreme poverty exemplified by Francis himself.

To be fair, the Franciscans began caring for the poor and the sick, and that was not something you could do unless you had possessions: a roof and paraphernalia for helping sick and hurt people. So the Franciscans evolved into two groups: The Zelanti (from the word "zeal"), also called the Spirituals, and the Relaxati, later called the Conventuals.

The Spirituals' extreme views caused them to criticize the growing wealth of the Church and the lavish lifestyle of its top prelates. This put the Fraticelli on a collision course with the papacy, fictionalized by Umberto Eco in the book The Name of the Rose. In the book (and movie), we meet one of the Spirituals, Ubertino de Casale (seen above worshipping Christ).

Ubertino joined the Franciscans in 1273 as a 14-year-old. After a few years he was sent to Paris to study, but returned to Italy when he was done. He traveled to Rome, visiting Christian sanctuaries and sites, then settled in Tuscany. Considered very smart though eccentric, he soon became leader of the Tuscany Spirituals.

The Tuscany Spirituals were so extreme that they started to publicly claim that Popes Gregory IX and Nicholas III (who had been a friend of Francis) were heretics for not interpreting the Franciscan rule of poverty properly, and allowing moderation. Gregory had stated that gifts given to the Franciscans were in fact gifts to the pope, and the Franciscans were just using them temporarily. Pope Innocent IV allowed the Franciscans to appoint an outsider who would be in charge of buying, selling, and managing goods, like a quartermaster. The Spirituals did not approve of this way of trying to weasel out of Francis' original rule.

Of course, Ubertino was one of the loudest critics of the papacy and his fellow Franciscans, and the authorities decided he needed to be dealt with. We'll talk about that tomorrow.

Teen Queen of Jerusalem

Isabella II was the daughter of John of Brienne and Maria of Montferrat. Maria (1192 - 1212) was the daughter of Isabella I, Queen of Jerusalem and Conrad of Montferrat, one of the major participants in the Third Crusade. When Isabella I died in 1205, Maria became Queen of Jerusalem at the age of 12. She was married in 1210 to John of Brienne. Isabella II (1212 - 4 May 1228) was their only child.

Isabella was born in Sicily, and was declared Queen when she was only a few days old, since her mother died shortly after giving birth. John of Brienne managed her regency. Note that her father did not have a direct claim on the throne; he was only styled king by virtue of marriage.

When Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II of Sicily agreed to go on Crusade, he wanted to guarantee that he would become King of Jerusalem. This Crusade was called by Pope Honorius III. Honorius, John of Brienne, and Frederick met in Ferentino, not far south of Rome, and arranged that the widower Frederick would marry Isabella, who was 11 at the time. Honorius hoped this would cement Frederick to the Crusade and guarantee that it would take place.

Frederick managed to delay going, however. Honorius died and was succeeded by Gregory IX, who pushed Frederick to fulfill his vow, finally excommunicating him to get him to start. Frederick still delayed until the wedding took place.

In August 1225, when she was 13, the two were finally married by proxy; it is possible that they had still not met. Days after, since she had reached a majority, she was crowned queen of Jerusalem in her own right. Frederick sent 20 galleys to bring Isabella to Brindisi (on Italy's "heel") where they were married in person. By this act, Isabella also became Holy Roman Empress as well as Queen Consort of Sicily and Germany.

Frederick then declared himself rightful King of Jerusalem by marriage and transferred to himself all rights and privileges previously held in the kingdom by John of Brienne as Regent, his new father-in-law.

Isabella was sent to live in Palermo in northern Sicily while Frederick went on Crusade. There she gave birth at the tender age of 14 to a daughter, in November 1226. The daughter died a year later. In 1228, on 25 April, she gave birth to a son, Conrad, but she died of complications a few days later.

Who was John of Brienne, and how did he come to be married to one Queen of Jerusalem and father another? Come back tomorrow and I'll explain.

The Treaty of San Germano

When Pope Gregory IX started what came to be called the War of the Keys, he thought he was secure because his target was the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II of Sicily, who was finally off on Crusade.

Gregory particularly wanted to capture Sicily from Frederick's control, especially because Frederick had been abusing his power over the church there. Gregory's military leader was John of Brienne, Frederick's father-in-law, who had no particular reason to love Frederick.

Upon hearing of the problems, and that Gregory had invaded Campania in southwestern Italy (Frederick's territory) Frederick abandoned the Holy Land and sailed back home, landing at Brindisi (Italy's "heel") on 10 June 1229. He had his Crusader army, of course, and some of the residents of Campania were opposed to the pope's attempt to expand the Papal States, so joined his cause.

Gregory's attempt to gain control over Sicily was rebuffed by the Muslim population in the western part of the island: they did not want the head of the Christian church having political control over them. Likewise, he could not turn Germany against Frederick; although he was born in Italy (his mother was Constance, Queen of Sicily), his father was Holy Roman Emperor Henry VI, so Frederick was considered German through and through.

The approach of Frederick's forces toward Campania caused the papal forces to start to lose their nerve. In August 1229, Gregory renewed his excommunication of Frederick, along with some of his chief supporters. He was also making promises left and right to various towns about offering them privileges, remission of sins, and political autonomy if they would simply join him and become part of the Papal States, but few were interested. Based on Frederick's treaty in the East with al-Kamil, Gregory claimed that Frederick was working in alliance with Muslims, hoping to erode his support.

For his part, Frederick was sending messages to the heads of Europe, explaining his cause and requesting their support. By the end of October, John of Brienne had retreated back to papal territory, and Frederick's troops had re-taken any of the papal-invaded towns.

Rather than take the opportunity and excuse to invade the Papal States, Frederick stopped his army's advance and requested that negotiations take place. Negotiations led to the Treaty of San Germano, signed on 23 July 1230. Gregory gave permission for Cardinal Giovanna Colonna to absolve Frederick's excommunication. The final treaty was brokered by Leopold VI, Duke of Austria, whose seal is illustrated above.

Contemporary sources, analyzing the War of the Keys, discussed it in terms of the "doctrine of the two swords": the material sword and the spiritual sword. Gregory's letter to England referred specifically to exercising temporal power. This use by the pope of the material sword, since he failed to achieve his aims with the spiritual sword, was criticized by many. There are even competing troubadour poems on the topic.

What I really want to look at next, however, is John of Brienne's role in the war. For that, we have to understand the marriage to Frederick of John's daughter, Isabella of Jerusalem, who became Queen of Jerusalem at the age of 13, was married at 13 to a man she had yet to meet, and was dead by 16.

The War of the Keys

The War of the Keys was called that because of the image of crossed keys (keys to the Kingdom of Heaven) on the papal flag. The war was between Pope Gregory IX and Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II. Frederick vowed to go on Crusade, which Gregory supported wholeheartedly. The vow was on pain of excommunication. Gregory's predecessor, Honorius III, had granted Frederick several delays, but Gregory was not going to be patient anymore, and threatened Frederick with excommunication.

Along with that issue, Frederick laid claim to some lands in central Italy that the popes believed belonged to the Papal States. Also, Gregory felt that Frederick was abusing the church in Sicily.

Part of Frederick's agreement to go on Crusade was that he wanted to be King of Jerusalem. Currently, the King-by-marriage was John of Brienne, who was regent for his 12-year-old daughter, Queen Isabella II of Jerusalem. The marriage, in November 1225, removed John's regency and made technically Frederick King of Jerusalem. Yet still he delayed.

Gregory excommunicated Frederick in October 1227. Isabella died in May 1228. In June 1228, Frederick finally began the Sixth Crusade. While he was traveling, some of his followers invaded the disputed Italian territories. Gregory responded with an army intending to take Sicily from Frederick. For the leader of his army he chose John of Brienne. Gregory levied tithes from several Christian countries to raise money for his army. According to contemporary English chronicler Roger of Wendover, England resisted the tax. King Henry III of England called an assembly of nobles and prelates to hear from the papal legate about the tithe, but the nobles simply refused to pay. Henry did not do anything to interfere with the papal request, but he did not force his nobles to comply.

Meanwhile, Frederick was in the east and signing a treaty with al-Kamil, who was perfectly happy to giving Jerusalem to the Crusaders if they left him alone. When Gregory heard about this, he denounced the treaty and Frederick as being un-Christian.

Now, however, Frederick was free to return and face the pope's forces. We will see how that went tomorrow.

Canonized Anti-Semitism

The first thing we should establish is that "anti-semitism" is the wrong term for what happened to Jews in Western Europe and elsewhere. This may seem like a quibble, but it was not "semitism" that Christians objected to. The term "semitic" was coined in 1781 by a German scholar to designate a group of languages from the Middle East, namely those spoken by the descendants of Noah's son Shem. The German antisemitisch was coined in 1860 as a label and criticism of those who felt the "semitic races" were inferior to white races.

What Pope Gregory IX did was to formalize anti-Judaism, his objection to their religion, not their race. People cannot change their race, but they can change their religion, and opportunities were available. In neither case, however, did Gregory want them to be abused or killed by their neighbors.

Gregory brought a legal mind to the issue of Jews. As with the Papal Inquisition, where he demanded due process and objectivity over mob rule, with his statements on Jews he also established protections for them. His statements, however, formalized their unequal status in society and made it part of canon law.

He started with a 1233 mandate, that Christians needed to stop persecuting Jews for simply being Jews. A year later, he established the doctrine of perpetua servitus Judaeorum, "perpetual servitude of the Jews." By this he meant that they should never be in positions of political power from now until Judgment Day. This led to the idea of servitus camerae imperialis, "servitude under the emperor," that they would always be subject to the authority (whims) of the Emperor (of the Holy Roman Empire), who at the time was Frederick II.

One of the triggers for Jewish persecution was the Crusades. When the Christian population was stirred up with the idea of "taking back" the Holy Land, the act of mistreating Jews surged. Throughout the 1230s, Gregory heard complaints from Jews and mandated that those religious leaders in whose dioceses the crimes were committed should "force the crusaders of their dioceses who had killed and robbed Jews to provide proper satisfaction for the crimes perpetrated against the Jews and for the property stolen from them." This was not a generic request: the pope deliberately named those bishops and archbishops, etc., whom he required to see things right.

His idea of perpetual servitude of the Jews affected them for centuries, and anti-Judaism/modern anti-semitism are still rampant.

Even though Gregory saw their servitude to the emperor, he did not completely trust this particular emperor. He did, as part of his approach, bring charges against Frederick for mistreatment of Jews. That was not the pope's only problem with Frederick. Tomorrow I'll tell you about the War of the Keys and what the pope does when you say you will go on Crusade, but you keep putting it off.

Pope Gregory IX

Ugolino di Conti's birth year is suggested as somewhere between 1145 and 1170, but there are suggestions that he was in his 90s at his death in 1241, so if that is true the 1145 date looks more likely. Only 14 of those years were as pope, which is probably just as well. His legacy is largely negative because of his establishing the Papal Inquisition (not the original Inquisition), his formalizing of anti-semitism in church doctrine (that lasted into the 20th century), and (although this is a result of speculative hindsight and is likely erroneous thinking) the Bubonic plague.

He was first elevated to Cardinal-Deacon in December 1198 by his cousin, Pope Innocent III. In 1206 he was made Cardinal Bishop, and named Dean of the College of Cardinals in 1218. At the request of Francis of Assisi, Pope Honorius III made him Cardinal Protector of the Franciscans. (He had been a friend of Francis already, as well as of Clare of Assisi and St. Dominic.)

Honorius died on 18 March 1227 after trying to establish the Fifth Crusade that had been called by Innocent III. Innocent intended for this one to be led by the papacy, in order to avoid the disaster of the Fourth Crusade. Cardinal Ugolino was elected pope one day after the death of Honorius, taking the name "Gregory" because he was at the monastery of St. Gregory when he accepted the position.

One of his first acts was to expand the powers of an inquisition taking place in Germany. He also established a Papal Inquisition (mostly managed by Dominicans and Franciscans) to formalize what had already been begun and was being handled differently across Christendom. His aim was to introduce due process and objectivity, because too often executions were done by unruly mobs on the innocent in the name of defeating heresy.

He also called for Crusades in places other than the Holy Land, to bring Eastern Europe into alignment with the papacy. These Northern or Baltic Crusades were against the pagan Baltic, Finnic, and West Slavic peoples.

Some modern writers blame Gregory for the Black Death because of a bull he wrote that demonized cats. The widespread killing of cats (the thinking goes) removed a deterrent to the rats that spread the plague. What the proponents of this theory leave out, however, is that papal decree does not run to India and China where the plague was just as widespread as in Europe. Also, one would have to assume the killing of cats was consistent for over a century, since the plague arrived in Europe about 120 years after Gregory's bull.

We will not condemn every act of Gregory: In 1229, when the University of Paris had a strike, he wrote a bull that helped resolve the differences between Town and Gown.

One of his lasting achievements, however, was to institutionalize anti-semitism in the Church. For that, we will wait another day. See you tomorrow.

The Patron Saint of Television

Inspired by Francis of Assisi, Clare of Assisi (16 July 1194 - 11 August 1253) founded a new order for women, the "Order of Poor Ladies of San Damiano." She lived with them for the rest of her life; ten years after her death, the order was renamed the "Order of St. Clare." Her mother, Ortolana, and her sisters Beatrice and Catarina (who took the name Agnes and was also later declared a saint) joined her in the order.

Francis himself ruled the order at first, but finally convinced Clare to become abbess. She disliked the title, and often referred to herself as "mother" or "handmaid" or "servant." In 1215, the Fourth Lantern Council declared that any communities had to adopt an established order, similar to the Rule of St. Benedict. This clashed with Clare's preference, because her desire for strict poverty was not approved by the Benedictine rule. Pope Gregory IX feared that her strict poverty was too physically unhealthy. She eventually convinced him to relent, and he approved for her order what was called Privilegium Paupertatis ("Privilege of Paupers").

In her lifetime, she was credited with a few miracles. In 1234, the army of Frederick II of Sicily was plundering the part of Italy where Assisi is. His men set up ladders to scale the walls in order to enter the convent at San Damiano. Clare grabbed the ciborium—the vessel that holds the host—and carried it to a window. When she held it up at the window, the men fell off the ladders and fled.

Her tendency to fast and deprive herself made her often ill. One Christmas, she was too ill to attend Mass and stayed in her cell. She later reported to her comrades that she had seen the Mass performed in a vision while confined to bed. This incident inspired Pope Pius XII in 1958 to declare her the patron saint of television.

Pope Gregory IX knew Francis and Clare personally, starting when he was a cardinal. His name has been woven throughout this blog for many years, but he has not had center stage. Tomorrow I'll talk about his life and some of the terrible things he did.

Invading Central Europe

In the same decades that Batu Khan (c. 1207–1255) and another grandson of Genghis Khan, Kadan, were establishing the Golden Horde and consolidating much of Eastern Europe, the desire of the Mongolian Empire to extend its influence over the known world found itself a beachhead from which to launch its efforts.

Spies were sent into Poland, Hungary, and Austria for reconnaissance. Having planned their approach, three separate armies invaded Central Europe, into Hungary, Transylvania, and Poland. The column into Poland defeated Henry II the Pious (the illustration shows the Mongol army with Henry's head on a spear).

The second and third columns crossed the Carpathians and followed the Danube, combining with the Poland column and defeating the Hungarian army on 11 April 1241. They killed half the Hungarian population, then proceeded to German territory. Most of the city of Meissen was burned to the ground. Further advances in Germany were paused when the Great Khan died in 1241 and the chief descendants of Genghis returned to Mongolia to elect his replacement.

The Encyclopædia Britannica describes the conflict thusly:

Employed against the Mongol invaders of Europe, knightly warfare failed even more disastrously for the Poles at the Battle of Legnica and the Hungarians at the Battle of Mohi in 1241. Feudal Europe was saved from sharing the fate of China and the Grand Duchy of Moscow not by its tactical prowess but by the unexpected death of the Mongols' supreme ruler, Ögedei, and the subsequent eastward retreat of his armies. [EB, (2003) p.663]

Central Europe was not completely helpless. Observations of Mongol tactics meant that Hungary, for instance, improved its heavy cavalry and increased fortifications of settlements against siege weapons. Many smaller hostilities between Central and Western Europe entities were put on hold in the face of the common threat.

Bela IV of Hungary sent messages to the Pope asking for a Crusade against the Mongols. Pope Gregory IX would rather have attention on the Holy Land, although he did eventually agree that the Mongol threat was important. A small Crusade was gathered in mid-1241, but Gregory died in August, and the forces were instead aimed at the Hohenstaufen dynasty.

Mongol attempts to conquer Central Europe continued right up until 1340 with an attack on Brandenburg and Prussia. Fortunately, internal strife in the Golden Horde made Mongol attacks less effective. Lithuania fought back, achieving victory in places including the Principality of Kiev. The Duchy of Moscow also reclaimed many Rus lands. In 1345, Hungary initiated a counter-invasion that captured what would become Moldavia.

I want to go back and talk about the one named casualty in this post: poor Henry II, called "The Pious." We'll look into his reign tomorrow.

The Frangipani Family

There are a number of families in the 21st century who have become wealthy through commerce and use that wealth to exert their influence on politicians through massive donations. The Middle Ages was no different, except that some times they simply eliminated the middle man and managed things directly.

The Frangipani family in Rome, for instance, possessed the Colosseum from 1200 and fortified it as a castle, using it to control approaches to the Lateran Palace, and therefore could protect (or imprison) the pope and papal offices. They lost control of it to the growing Annibaldi family in the mid-13th century (who had popes Gregory IX and Alexander IV on their side). When the papacy moved to Avignon (1309 - 1377), access to the Lateran wasn't so important, Roman population declined, and the Colosseum was abandoned.

The Frangipani were Guelphs, more interested in supporting the pope's power, rather than Ghibellines, who supported more authority for the Holy Roman Emperor. They claimed ancient roots, but they do not appear in records prior to 1014. They involved themselves in many papal conflicts, such as the Investiture Controversy between Gregory VII and Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV. They reached their peak of influence when they got Pope Honorius II elected.

There were many branches of the family—such as in Friuli and Dalmatia—but the Roman branch ended in 1654 with the death of Mario Frangipani.

One of the least admirable actions by a Frangipani was in 1268 when Giovanni Frangipane betrayed the last of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the teenage Duke of Swabia. I'll tell you about poor Conradin tomorrow.

The Life of an Inquisitor

Ramon Llull's system of philosophy was officially condemned by an Inquisitor General of the Roman Catholic Church, Nicholas Eymerich, a fellow Catalonian—though not a contemporary: Eymerich was born around the time of Llull's death.

He was born in Girona, in Catalonia, and entered he local Dominican monastery while a teenager, learning theology there before being sent to Toulouse and then Paris to further his education. He then returned home to become the theology teacher at the monastery.

His knowledge was so recognized that in 1357 he was named the Inquisitor General of Aragon. In his vigorous pursuit of heretics, he targeted many fellow clerics for small details that he considered blasphemous, earning himself many enemies in the Church. When he decided to interrogate a well-respected Franciscan, Nicholas of Calabria, King Peter IV of Aragon arranged to have him removed from his position in 1360.

The Dominican Order decided that Eymerich would be a good Vicar General, but there was opposition, notably from King Peter IV, who supported a different candidate, Bernardo Ermengaudi. The dispute required the pope to make a decision, but Urban V chose a compromise candidate, Jacopo Dominici.

Eymerich remained an Inquisitor General, further annoying the king by attacking the Ramon Llull's teachings. (One of his objections to Llull was that Llull believed in the Immaculate Conception of Mary while Eymerich did not.)  The king forbade him from preaching in Barcelona, but Eymerich became political, not only ignoring the king's command but also supporting a revolt against him in 1376. When the monastery where Eymerich was hiding was surrounded by 200 horsemen seeking him, Eymerich fled to Avignon where Pope Gregory IX was residing.

While in Avignon, he justified his approach to the position of Inquisitor by writing the Directorium Inquisitorum, the "Directory of Inquisitions" with his definitions of heresies, trial procedures, and proper jurisdiction of the inquisitor. He discusses how to find witches and the actions that are considered parts of witchcraft and therefore heretical: casting salt into a fire, burning bodies of animals and birds, baptizing images, mixing names of angels and demons, etc.

Armed with this clear explanation of why he was right in his actions, he decided to return to Aragon in 1381, only to discover that Ermengaudi had become Inquisitor General in his absence. Ignoring this turn of events, he decided to continue acting as if he were Inquisitor General. This did not work well for him. I'll explain further next time.

Pope Innocent IV

Innocent IV (born Sinibaldo Fieschi) had a busy decade. He lived longer than that, of course, and was consequential, but there is a lot of uncertainty about him pre-elevation to the throne of Peter. He was born in Genoa, but some sources say it was further south in Manarola. There is a belief that he taught canon law in Bologna, but there is no record of it. Some biographies say he was the Bishop of Albenga in 1235, but from 1230 until 1255 Albania's bishop was named Simon.

One of his first problems as pope was dealing with conflicts between Gregory IX And Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II. One was that Frederick had been supportive of a Sixth Crusade, but then was lax about taking part. Another was that Frederick had captured some territories in Lombardy belonging to the Papal States. Gregory called a general council to vote to depose Frederick, but Frederick captured two cardinals who were on their way. This intimidated the remaining cardinals, who were reluctant to oppose the emperor afterward. Gregory had denounced Frederick as a heretic (he was such a religious skeptic that Dante placed him in the circle for heretics).

Innocent, in his earlier role as Cardinal Fieschi, was on good terms with Frederick, but as pope he had to continue the policies of his predecessors, demanding the return of lands in Lombardy. Frederick refused, of course, and his continued political attacks on papal rule created enough of a hostile environment in Rome that Innocent became concerned for his freedom. He snuck out of Rome in disguise in 1244, making his way ultimately to Genoa. A few months later he went to France, winding up in Lyon where he was warmly welcomed.

In December of 1244 he summoned his bishops to the First Council of Lyon; the goal was to minimize Frederick's authority. It was the smallest general council ever: many members feared Frederick's wrath and did not attend, and bishops from the Middle East and Far East were hampered in travel by (respectively) Muslim and Mongol hostilities (see here and here). (Innocent's attempts at dealing with Mongols shortly after would fail.) The council excommunicated Frederick, throwing Europe into turmoil until Frederick's death in 1250.

With Frderick's death, Innocent felt safe in returning to Italy. He also doubled down on the idea that he hd the right to interfere with secular politics. He appointed Afonso III in Portugal. He helped Henry III of England buy a title in Italy, even though Henry had been giving trouble to Archbishop Edmund Rich.

In other news, Innocent formally approved the Order of the Poor Clares, named for Francis of Assisi's friend. (In the picture above, he is granting charters to Franciscans and Dominicans.) He reversed earlier popes' orders to round up and burn copies of the Talmud, being convinced by a team of rabbis that the Talmud was a foundation for them to be able to understand the New Testament.

His time as pope has been woven through this blog for years, and it was high time he got his own titled post to bring some of these references together in one place.

Speaking of things that get mentions and might deserve a fuller explanation, the Papal States have been mentioned above, as well as here and here. Let's explain what they were and how they got started.

Jacques de Vitry

It seems unfair that I mention Jacques de Vitry here and here and here, and don't really tell much more than he was a cardinal. He was actually an important figure in his lifetime, a historian of the Crusades and a theologian.

Born at Vitry-sur-Seine (hence the surname) near Paris about 1160, he studied at the recently founded University of Paris. After an encounter with Marie d'Oignies, a female mystic, he was convinced to become a canon regular (a priest in the church, as opposed to a monk), so he went to Paris to be ordained and then served at the Priory of Saint-Nicolas d'Oignies. He strongly preached for the Albigensian Crusade.

On the other hand, he was fascinated by the Beguines, a lay Christian group that operated outside the structure of the Church, and asked Honorius to recognize them as a legitimate group.

His reputation was such that in 1214 he was chosen bishop of St. John of Acre, in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. From that experience he wrote the Historia Orientalis, in which he recorded the progress of the Fifth Crusade, as well as a history of the Crusades, for Pope Honorius III. He never finished the work. Besides leaving many sermons, he also wrote about the immoral life of the students at the University of Paris. 

In 1229, Pope Gregory IX made de Vitry a cardinal. A little later he died (1 May 1240) while still in Jerusalem. His body was returned to Oignies. His remains were held in a reliquary. In 2015, a research project determined that the remains in the reliquary likely were, in fact, de Vitry's. Forensic work on the skull and DNA evidence contributed to a digital reconstruction of his head and face.

The Beguines were only mentioned here briefly, and deserve more attention. They will come next.

The Disputation of Paris, Part One

This blog made a reference to the Disputation of Paris years ago, but never got around to any details. The Disputation was a debate between rabbis in France and a Franciscan friar, Nicholas Donin. How did it come about?

Donin had not always been a Franciscan, or even a Christian. He was a Jew who was excommunicated by Rabbi Yechiel of Paris. Why was he excommunicated? Donin followed Karaite Judaism, which taught that the only true commandments from God were the Torah, and that any additional oral law codified in the Talmud or Midrash was not authoritative. Rabbi Yechiel was a follower of Rabbinic Judaism, who studied and taught and enforced the Talmud.

After living ten years as an excommunicate, Nicholas Donin converted to Christianity and joined the Franciscan Order. Possibly to ingratiate himself to his new community, possibly to strike back at Rabbinic Judaism, he went through the Talmud and found 35 instances that were damaging to the reputations of Jesus and Mary and Christianity. Donin presented these to Pope Gregory IX in 1238. Gregory ordered that all copies of the Talmud were to be seized and examined by the authorities of the Church; if the allegations were found to be true, the Talmuds were to be burned.

Only France cared about the order. Louis IX ordered the four most prominent rabbis in France to dispute Donin's charges in public: Moses of Coucy, Judah of Melon, Samuel ben Solomon of Chateau-Thierry, ... and Rabbi Yechiel of Paris.

This is where Blanche of Castile (from yesterday's post) comes in. She guaranteed the safety of the rabbis, although there were limitations put on what they were allowed to say. The outcome was probably a foregone conclusion, with the copies of the Talmud at stake. I'll tell you what happened tomorrow.

University of Paris - The Strike

I mentioned yesterday that Orleans University had its start in 1230 with teachers and students who fled from turmoil at the University of Paris. Time to explain the turmoil.

In March 1229, University of Paris students—normally boisterous and given to drinking heavily—were enjoying the pre-Lenten Mardi Gras-like atmosphere (it was Shrove Tuesday and the beginning of Lent). An argument broke out between a band of students and a tavern proprietor over the bill; a fight ensued, resulting in the students being beaten by the townspeople and tossed out.

The students returned the next day, Ash Wednesday, with friends and clubs. They trashed the tavern and beat the taverner. A riot started that damaged nearby shops. The students thought themselves free from punishment, because university students had benefit of clergy. The King's courts couldn't touch them, and the ecclesiastical courts tended to be protective of university students, who were all potential clergy.

The King of France at the time, Louis IX, was only 15 years old. The regent in charge of royal affairs decided the students' crime could not be allowed to go unpunished. The Paris city guard, not known to be gentle toward university students anyway, were given permission to mete out punishment. They found a group of students and killed several. There is no proof that the guardsmen had attacked the actual instigators of the original trouble.

The university went on strike. Teaching ceased. Students left, taking their spending money with them. The economy of Paris suffered. Students and teachers wound up in Reims, Oxford, Toulouse, and some went to Orleans and started teaching there.

In 1231, Pope Gregory IX (an alumnus!) issued a decree that the University of Paris was under papal patronage, making it independent of any local authority. Masters were allowed to cancel classes for almost any provocation; the threat of economic losses kept the city in line.

If the regent had not stepped in, who knows what would have happened? More rioting? Or just moving beyond the incident. No dispersal of university staff and students might have meant no university at Orleans or elsewhere? We will never know. But we do know who the regent was who caused that turning point: Blanche of Castile. I'll tell you about her tomorrow.

Noting the Bern

The Smithfield Decretals have been mentioned recently. They are a book of decrees drawn from 1,971 letters from Pope Gregory IX, with glosses (detailed commentaries) and lavish illustrations. About 700 copies of these decretals exist—most of them created after the advent of mass printing technology; this particular one was made in France in about 1300, but found in Smithfield in the UK, hence its name. It is thought that the owner in England had the illustrations added in about 1340.

Apes fighting as knights, from page 75

Thanks to the British Library's plan to digitize all of its manuscripts, you can actually flip through the pages if you go here. You will see all the illustrations, including depictions of daily life as well as fanciful portrayals of animals acting like humans.

But those are just the side show. The reason 700 copies exist of the writings are because of the importance of the papal letters, and the explicating of the important statements within. The editor of the decretals was one Bernard of Botone (d.1263), also called Bernard of Parma because of his birthplace. He studied at the University of Bologna, where (according to his gravestone) he became Chancellor in his later years. An expert at canon law, he was an ideal commentator for the decrees.

Bernard drew from multiple sources for the commentaries. Many medieval manuscripts give no hint as to authorship, or editor-ship. In the case of the Decretals, however, attribution is always given to the other authors and commentators whom he quoted. Whenever the notes and commentaries were his own, he signed with a simple "Bern" at the end.

The whole thing is finished; give the guy who wrote it a drink.

Bernard died in 1263, and the copies that exist were all made years later. In the case of the Smithfield decretals copy, we do not know who the copyist was, nor who the illustrators were. The copyist, however, did leave a "personal stamp" on the manuscript. On the very last page, after the last line, he added the following:

The whole thing is finished; give the guy who wrote it a drink.

Yoda's Medieval Manuscript

Yesterday mentioned the Smithfield Decretals, a detailed work on ecclesiastical law. It was produced in the 14th century, full of important decisions gleaned from the papal decrees of Pope Gregory IX, additional material like the explanation of how to celebrate the feast day of St. Matthias, and curious illuminations.

One of these illuminations is of particular interest to fans of Star Wars, because it seems to be an early illustration of Jedi Grandmaster Yoda.

The similarity was first noted by Julian Harrison, curator of pre-1600 manuscripts at the British Library and pointed out in his Medieval Manuscripts Blog. The figure has the grayish-green complexion, the large pointed ears, and the ridged forehead of Yoda's race. Also, the hands, like Yoda's, or not five-fingered. He also wears a long robe.

What are the chances that a specimen from a long-lived race in a galaxy far, far away could travel to Earth and be portrayed in a 14th century manuscript?

The figure perches atop a passage on Samson and Delilah. Although not likely to have been intended as a portrait of Goliath, it may simply be there to evoke the idea of monstrous creatures, such as Goliath would have seemed. Some have suggested that the figure may represent the Devil, tempting Delilah to cut Samson's hair. Or it is just a random figure from the fertile mind of a bored monk. This is a manuscript that includes archer rabbits hunting greyhounds and battling monkeys dressed in armor, after all.