A King in Hiding

Władysław III of Poland was born on 31 October 1424. He was named King of Poland when he was 10 years old and King of Hungary at the age of 16.

Very young kings are usually surrounded by advisors who often want to enjoy and consolidate their own power, rather than offer unselfish loyalty to king and country. Cardinal Olešnicki ran the country more than Władysław did, insulating the young king from reality and the ability to make sound judgments.

Therefore, when Władysław was 18 and had become King of Hungary after a two-year war (the widow of the previous king wanted to keep the throne for her infant son and not see it go to a Polish monarch), he decided to keep his army together and attempt a greater prize.

The Christian Władysław decided it would be a glorious undertaking to attack the pagan Turks in a crusade, breaking a ten-year truce with the powerful Ottoman Empire. Plans were made, and promises were gathered from Venice and papal forces for help. Unfortunately for Władysław, the mercenary Venetians also had an arrangement with the Turks, and used their fleet to ferry 60,000 Turks from Asia to where Władysław's army (of only 20,000) was camped. The end result was the Battle of Varna on 10 November 1444. The Polish army was defeated soundly and Władysław was beheaded.

...or was he?

Rumors that his head was taken to the Ottoman court are not substantiated. His own forces never found his body. A strange Portuguese legend accounts this. Supposedly, Władysław, ashamed of starting a disastrous war on false pretenses, snuck away from the losing battle and wandered as an ordinary pilgrim to the Holy Land, looking for forgiveness. He became a Knight of Saint Catherine of Mount Sinai. He later traveled to Madeira (an island west of Portugal) to live a quiet life, becoming known as Henry the German. Hearing the rumor that Władysław was alive and hiding in Madeira, a group of Polish monks traveled to investigate. They were satisfied that he was Władysław, but he would not be persuaded to return to Poland and ascend the throne.

Crisis in Portugal

Ferdinand I, son of Pedro the Cruel

Inheritance is never more complicated than when a throne is involved. The stakes are too high for anyone to let slip by the chance that he can convince the world that he should rule the country involved. When Peter I of Castile (who ruled both Castile and Portugal) died in 1369, it seemed natural that his eldest surviving son, the 24-year-old Ferdinand I, would inherit the throne.

Except that Peter did not have the Castilian throne to pass along. His illegitimate half-brother, Henry of Trastámara, had taken it in 1369 after defeating Peter in the (First) Castilian Civil War. Wanting to oust Peter wasn't a big surprise to much of Europe, since at the time he was more commonly known as "Pedro the Cruel" because of a ruthless administrative style that did not sit well with the aristocracy. Henry had the support of the papacy as well as France and Aragon. France was happy to get involved on the side opposing Peter because of the larger global issues: France was still in the Hundred Years War with England, and England's John of Gaunt (son of King Edward III) was married to Peter's daughter Constance.

Ferdinand was now King of Portugal, but he wanted Castile as well.

Just because Henry sat the throne, however, did not mean his legitimacy was incontrovertible. (He had a son who was not yet a teenager.) Upon Peter's death, King Peter IV of Aragon and King Charles II ("the Bad") of Navarre put forth claims to Castile, as did Peter I's son-in-law, John of Gaunt. (John would have liked a kingdom of his own, since the assumption was that England would go to his older brother, Edward the Black Prince).

Military engagements followed. In order to avoid an unending conflict, all parties appealed to the pope. Pope Gregory IX got everyone to accept a treaty in 1371, agreeing that Peter's son Ferdinand would ascend the throne and would marry Leonora of Castile, Henry's daughter. This would link the thrones of Portugal and Castile by marriage, and everyone would be satisfied.

The next difficulty was created by Ferdinand himself. Although he accepted the treaty, he fell in love with someone else: Leonor Telles de Meneses, the wife of one of his courtiers! He managed to get her forcibly divorced from her husband so that Ferdinand could marry her.

With Henry's daughter spurned, he had no incentive to allow Ferdinand to become king in Henry's place. John of Gaunt plotted with Ferdinand to remove Henry from Castile, and brought an English army to help—to no avail, however, and a treaty in 1373 calmed everyone down again.

Henry died in 1379, and John of Gaunt once again made a claim for the throne. Ferdinand, however, made his own treaty without English help. If Ferdinand's daughter Beatrice were to marry Henry's son John, then the two kingdoms could be joined by marriage to everyone's satisfaction.

When Ferdinand died on 22 October 1383, he left no male heir. Beatrice's marriage to John would have taken care of Castile, but what of Portugal? The treaty was tossed away—popular sentiment was that Portugal would be annexed by Castile; Portugal needed its own king, not that of Castile!—and Ferdinand's illegitimate brother John claimed the throne, sparking a two-year period of war and political uncertainty with the French helping John of Castile and the English helping John of Portugal. When the dust settled, Portugal had gained control of many towns that were originally Castilian, and the two kingdoms were ruled separately.

In 1387, John I of Portugal married Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt. The alliance between Portugal and England was and remains very strong.

The Unexpected King

Afonso (1210 - 1279) was the second son of Afonso II of Portugal, and so never expected to inherit the throne. It was supposed to go to his older brother Sancho; and it did. Afonso was married to Matilda the Countess of Boulogne in 1238, and went to France to live as Count of Boulogne.

Sancho the Pious (1209 - 1248) became king in 1223. He was good at military decisions, but not an efficient administrator, nor did he do anything to mediate disputes between the middle class and the church. Strife in Portugal became so bad that the archbishop appealed to the pope. Between papal disapproval and the Portuguese nobles disliking Sancho's style, he had to go. He was deposed in December 1247—officially ordered out by Pope Innocent IV—and died one month later.

Afonso was summoned from Boulogne, and had to give up his right to the position there in 1248. Besides the position of Count, he gave up the Countess: he divorced Matilda in 1253 and married Beatrice of Castile.

Avoiding the mistakes of his brother, Afonso III of Portugal paid close attention to the needs of the people. He created the Cortes, a parliament that included the nobility, clergy, and the bourgeoisie. He created laws preventing the aristocracy from exploiting the lower classes. He ensured that arrests had to be presented to a judge to determine the type and length of detention. Unfortunately, taxation of the Church may have been the step that led to his excommunication. The throne then went to his son, Denis, who was only 18 years old.

The Lisbon Massacre

A memorial in Lisbon*

We touched on the Lisbon Massacre, in which between 1000 and 2000 (and maybe more) Jews were slaughtered, in the post on Crypto-Jews. Here is a little more detail.

To be precise, no "Jews" were slaughtered in Lisbon; technically, they were all "New Christians," Jews who had grudgingly converted years earlier, rather than be expelled from their home. Portugal in 1506 was in dire straits for everyone, however, because drought had brought famine; also, a plague was sweeping through. The people gathered to pray for deliverance from these problems.

History tells us that one of the devout, while praying at the Saint Domingo of Lisbon Convent on 19 April 1506, said he saw the face of Christ appear on the altar. This miraculous manifestation was taken as a sign that better times were coming. One parishioner who was present, however, said it was probably just a trick of reflection. This second opinion came from a New Christian. The devout Christians around him objected to this mundane interpretation, and they dragged him outside and beat him to death.

Suddenly, blaming New Christians for their troubles seemed like a good idea. It was reinforced by Dominican friars—by now the Dominicans were thoroughly entwined with the papal inquisition—who preached forgiveness of all sins for the previous 100 days to whomever killed heretics. The result was about 500 deaths that day. New Christians hid in their homes, but by Monday the fervor of the crowd could not be stopped. They dragged New Christians from their homes and burned in public. By Tuesday the number of victims had approached 2000.

King Manuel had been out of Lisbon, avoiding the plague. When he learned of the slaughter, he sent emissaries to stop it. Major malefactors were tried and had their possessions confiscated; some were executed. The two Dominicans were defrocked and burned at the stake, meeting the same fate that they had just meted out to hundreds of others.


*The inscription reads: “In memory of the thousands of Jews victims of intolerance and religious fanaticism, murdered in the massacre started on this square on the 19th of April 1506.”

Isaac Abrabanel

The other day I mentioned that King Alfonso of Portugal in the 15th century had a Jewish treasurer. He was a statesman and scholar as well, not to mention wealthy and a victim of the ongoing anti-Semitism.

A stamp commemorating Isaac Abrabanel

Isaac Abrabanel was born in 1437 to a prestigious family in Lisbon, Portugal. He studied rabbinic literature while growing up, but also considered as a mentor Joseph ibn Shem-Tov (d.1480), who wrote a book on economics (which hasn't survived; it is suspected to have been a revision of Aristotle's Economics). It was his understanding of economics as well as his general knowledge that brought him to the attention of King Alfonso V of Portugal.

This position gave him some clout as well as being fairly wealthy in his own right. When the Portugese town of Arzila on the northern coast of Morocco was captured by Moors and the Jewish population sold as slaves, he was in a position to arrange collections of funds to gain their freedom as well as contribute heavily to the ransom himself.

Alfonso's successor was not so friendly to Jews, imprisoning many; Abrabanel left Portugal for Spain under Queen Isabella of Castile. Although in 1492 Isabella would create (with Ferdinand of Aragon) the Alhambra Decree and expel Jews from Spain, at this earlier time she was willing to accept the help of a sharp financial man who could make sure royal revenues for the military were handled properly and the military was provisioned well.

Unfortunately, the presence of Jews in Spain became a difficulty for the rulers, and the Alhambra Decree was produced in 1492. Abrabanel pleaded with Ferdinand, and offered him the sum of 30,000 ducats to reverse the decision—all in vain. His departure from Spain also meant forfeiting the chance to regain large sums of money that he had advanced to Ferdinand for the military.

He spent a lot of time after that writing commentaries on the Old Testament, but misfortune prevented him from living a quiet life. He first went to Naples, but when the French conquered it he left for Messina, then Corfu, then Monopoli in Bari, Italy; finally, he settled in Venice, where his talents as a statesman were put to use negotiating a treaty between Venice and Portugal. Up until his death, he offered large sums of money to Spain to reverse the Alhambra Decree, but to no avail. He died in 1508 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Padua. The Siege of Padua a year later destroyed the cemetery, and the locations of many graves and remains were lost.

Crypto-Jews

A secret seder [source]

Yesterday I alluded to a third option available to persecuted Jews in the Middle Ages who were forced into the choice between conversion to Christianity and expulsion from there home country. The un-offered third choice was to publicly choose conversion but privately maintain the practices of Judaism. One modern term for those who chose this way is "Crypto-Jews."

There were a few terms for Jews who remained in Spain after the Alhambra Decree or in Portugal after its decree of expulsion.

• Christianos Nuevos ["New Christians"]
• conversos ["Converted"]
• ...and the derogatory Marranos

Marranos is a racist term: it means "pig" and was used to describe both Jews and Muslims whose dietary practices forbade eating pork. Conversion to Christianity did not remove the social stigma of being an "outsider" or "inferior," and Jewish converts who stayed in their home countries on the Iberian Peninsula were still treated poorly.

This explains why the Lisbon Massacre could happen in 1506: even years after Jews should have been gone from Portugal, evidence could be found of Jewish religious practices—or simple suspicion that conversos were not sincere—that stirred a mob to violence.

Marranos could have a difficult time even if they finally left Portugal and joined Jewish communities:

Even though the rabbis of [those] times had decreed that Marranos be accepted and taken back into the community, Jews outside of Spain had very little sympathy for the Marranos. For many generations, people would not even marry into their families or treat them as Jewish — mostly out of resentment that when the moment of truth came they opted to convert rather than take upon themselves the privation of exile. [source]

In Belmonte, Portugal, a community of Jews survived for centuries, intermarrying to keep families Jewish and hiding every outward sign of their faith. The "Belmonte Jews" returned openly to Judaism in 1970 and opened a synagogue in 1996.

Running to Portugal

The Inquisition in Portigal [source]

When the Alhambra Decree gave Jews the choice of converting to Christianity or leaving the kingdoms of Castile and Aragon, tens of thousands—there are no accurate estimates; they vary between 130,000 and 800,000—began the search for a new home. Fortunately, shelter was closer than expected for some.

Portugal had experienced an on-again/off-again anti-Semitism. Many Jews who fled to Portugal wound up being persecuted or imprisoned under King John II (1455 - 1495), but King Alfonso V (1432 - 1481) had appointed a Jew as his treasurer. His successor, King Manuel I, was a very religious man, building religious buildings and trying to round up a Crusade against the Turks, but he was friendly to the Jews and released them from prison. Things seemed to be looking up.

Manuel had ambitions, however, that put his future at odds with his past as a tolerant ruler. Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon had a daughter, the Infanta Isabella. Through her parents, she was the heir to Castile and Aragon. A marriage between Manuel and Isabella would unite most of the Iberian Peninsula, and their children would rule a large part of Europe and be allied to even more of Europe.*

Ferdinand and Isabella, however, would never allow their daughter to marry the monarch of a land that allowed Jews. A contract was written up for the marriage; one of its stipulations was that the Jews of Portugal would no longer be tolerated. Four years after the Edict of Expulsion sent Jews migrating to Portugal, Portugal in 1496 decreed that all Jews had to convert to Christianity or leave Portugal by October of 1497. (This edict applied to Muslims as well.)

The tide had turned for Jews in Portugal. Thousands fled to Amsterdam, Constantinople, France and Morocco; even to the New World. Not all left, which led to the Lisbon Massacre in 1506, when up to 2000 Jews (or people perceived to be Jews) were tortured and burned at the stake by a Catholic mob. Thirty years later, the Inquisition came to Portugal, creating more risks for anyone not seen to adhere strictly to Roman Catholicism.

If the Jews were supposed to be expelled, how was it that the Lisbon Massacre seemed like a good idea? That would be because there was a third, unofficial option between expulsion and conversion. We will look at the Marranos tomorrow.

*Her sister was Catherine of Aragon, King Henry VIII's first wife.

Donating America

Christopher Columbus is about as late as a "medieval" blog should deal with, but to me it seems appropriate. The world that Columbus sailed from was still very much entrenched in the culture and technology of the Middle Ages (even though its artworks are considered part of the Renaissance). But the discovery of a new continent—and the new era of exploration of which it was a part—made radical changes to any remaining "parochial" attitudes of the Old World.

But what was the plan for the land he was to find? Was there a plan? Didn't he intend simply to find a new route to India for trade purposes?

Maybe not. On 4 May 1493, Pope Alexander VI (1431-1503) issued a papal bull, Inter caetera [Latin: "Among other (works)"], which granted to the kingdoms of Spain (Castile and Aragon) all lands west and south of a line 100 leagues west of the Azores or Cape Verde islands. If you look at the map below, the line on the right shows the boundary, west of which the lands belonged to Spain. Everyone involved realized very quickly that Columbus had discovered new lands, not the expected ones.

Portugal objected to this authority granted to Spain. It felt it had some precedent for authority over these new lands.

Inter caetera was not the first papal bull regarding the disposition of the New World. Pope Nicholas V (1397-1455) had presented a bull on 18 June 1452 called Dum diversas [Latin: "Until different"], allowing Alfonso V of Portugal (1432-1481) to seek out and capture pagans and seize their kingdoms. Portugal believed that Spain's rights granted by Inter caetera conflicted with Portugal's rights granted by Dum diversas. Spain and Portugal tried a diplomatic solution, to no avail. Spain urged the Pope (who was Spanish) to help. The result was a new bull, Dudum siquidem [Latin: "A short while ago"] that gave Spain:

all islands and mainlands whatsoever, found and to be found, discovered and to be discovered, that are or may be or may seem to be in the route of navigation or travel towards the west or south, whether they be in western parts, or in the regions of the south and east and of India. [Dudum siquidem, 26 September 1493]

 The intent was clear, and Spain started sending conquistadors.

In truth, there were several bulls over the years that granted authority to different countries to take over other lands. A specific subset of these dealing with the New World is known collectively as the "Bulls of Donation." Spain and Portugal finally came to an agreement with the Treaty of Tordesillas in 1494, dividing up the New World between them.

The Oldest Political Alliance

King John I of Portugal weds Philippa of Lancaster, 1386
(Chronique de France et d'Angleterre, Jean Wavrin, 15th c.)

When Edward III is mentioned in this blog, it is often in connection with the Hundred Years War between England and France. Expanding his "little island's" authority was an important feature of his long reign. So it might come as a surprise to learn that he was responsible for a non-aggression treaty with another European power—a treaty that has been in effect for almost 600 years!

It didn't hurt Edward to have a friend on the continent. It gave him a potential place to land ships if he needed to march through (or against) Spain for any reason. The alliance helped Portugal as well. During political troubles in the 1380s, John the Good (called João in Portugese) defeated his rivals; England recognized him as the rightful king of Portugal right away. Spain would not recognize his right to rule until decades later. England reinforced the 1373 treaty in 1386 with the Treaty of Windsor, as a result of which King John I of Portugal married Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt, Edward III's 4th son.

Does the treaty have any real significance in the modern world, considering the United Nations, NATO, etc.? Well, it is said that during World War II, Portugal refused to join the Axis powers in order to stay loyal to a 550-year-old document!

In the first paragraph, I said the treaty had been in place for "almost" 600 years, but wouldn't the date of 1373 mean it was in place for 640 years? Or, given that the treaty wasn't ratified until 1386, couldn't I have said "over" or "more than" 600 years? Well, I must be honest: the treaty wasn't always in effect during that time. From 1580-1640, due to marriages between the royal families of Spain and Portugal, Portugal was obligated to drop the treaty with England, Spain's enemy at the time.