Showing posts with label William the Conqueror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William the Conqueror. Show all posts

Monday, February 12, 2024

Anselm of Canterbury

Anselm of Canterbury has been referred to in this blog a few times by one of his other names, Anselm of Bec. He was born 1033/34 in the Upper Burgundy (Italy) region. His parents were both from noble families. His father was a Lombard noble, Gundulph; his mother, Ermenberge, was the granddaughter of Conrad the Peaceful, one-time King of Burgundy. Unfortunately, wars in Burgundy caused partitioning and transferring of territory, and Anselm's parents lost many of their estates.

The loss of political power in the family did not matter to Anselm, who at the age of 15 decided to pursue a religious life. His father opposed this, and Anselm fell ill for a time, perhaps psychosomatically, after which he gave up on education and acted the carefree youth. When Ermenberge passed away, possibly when giving birth to Anselm's sister, Gundulph became obsessively religious himself and entered a monastery when Anselm was 23. Anselm left home with a single attendant and spent the next three years wandering through Burgundy and France.

His wandering drew him to the Benedictine Abbey of Bec, whose abbot was the renowned and learned Lanfranc. When Anselm's father died, the young man asked Lanfranc's advice: return home and use the wealth of the family's remaining estates to provide alms for the poor, or give them up altogether and become a monk? Lanfranc, feeling his advice would be a conflict of interest, sent Anselm to Archbishop Maurilius of Rouen. Maurilius told Anselm to become a novice at Bec. Anselm was 27.

Anselm threw himself into his studies at Bec, and in his first year produced his first of many writings, a fictional discussion of grammar that resolves some of the inconsistencies and paradoxes that arise from Latin nouns and adjectives. It begins:

Student. Concerning (an) expert-in-grammar I ask that you make me certain whether it is a substance or a quality, so that once I know this I will know what I ought to think about other things which in a similar way are spoken of paronymously.
Teacher. First tell me why you are in doubt.
S. Because, apparently, both alternatives—viz., that it is and is not [the one or the other]—can be proved by compelling reasons.
T. Prove them, then.
S. Do not be quick to contradict what I am going to say; but allow me to bring my speech to its conclusion, and then either approve it or improve it.
T. As you wish.
S. The premises
(i) Every/Everything expert-in-grammar is a man,
(ii) Every man is a substance,
[link]

It is heavily influenced by Boethius and his writings on Aristotle.  It is not casual reading for anyone today.

In 1063, when Anselm was 30, William the Conqueror asked Lanfranc to become abbot of a new abbey William built at Caen in Normandy. The monks at Bec elected Anselm to become prior, a lesser role but the person in charge in the absence of an abbot. He maintained a strict Benedictine Rule; after 15 years he was finally named abbot.

Bec attracted students from all over due to its reputation for learning during Anselm's time in charge. He continued to write, and he fought for the abbey's independence from secular influence, as well as from religious influence from people such as the archbishop of Rouen. Bec was enhanced by being granted lands in England after 1066. Anselm would sometimes visit England to check on the abbey's estates, to appear before his secular lord, William, and to visit Lanfranc, who by now was Archbishop of Canterbury. Anselm impressed William, and he was probably by then on a "short list" of candidates for Archbishop of Canterbury to succeed Lanfranc.

When Lanfranc died in 1089, however, William was gone and the throne was held by his son, William II "Rufus." Rufus had other plans. I'll tell you about Anselm's rocky path to archbishop next time.

Saturday, October 21, 2023

Pontefract Castle

Pontefract Castle, where Richard II was imprisoned by his cousin (although for a very short time), had been begun very shortly after William the Conqueror took over England. He gave lands in 1070 to Ilbert and Walter de Lacy, who followed him from Normandy. Ilbert began Pontefract Castle, represented here by a model. There was a wooden structure there originally, refurbished in stone over time. The Domeday Book on 1086 calls it "Ilbert's castle."

A later de Lacy, Robert, did not support Henry I in his struggle with his brother, so Henry confiscated the castle in the 1100s. Under Richard Lionheart, Roger de Lacy paid 3000 marks for the privilege of inhabiting the castle, but Richard still owned it. When Richard's brother John came to power, he awarded Roger's loyalty by giving him the castle. By this time it was being called Pontefract.

The de Lacy family lived there until the early 1300s, but Henry de Lacy had only one daughter, "Poor" Alice, who married Thomas, the 2nd Earl of Lancaster. Pontefract became a Lancaster possession now. Thomas backed the wrong horse in the never-ending conflict between kings and would-be kings. He was convicted of treason without being allowed to speak in his own defense and executed at Pontefract on 22 March 1322.

Pontefract then passed to Thomas' brother, Henry Grosmont, the 3rd Earl of Lancaster, who was politically more savvy and eventually became one of the most respected and land-wealthy nobles in England. With his death, Pontefract came to his son-in-law, John of Gaunt. John's son Henry Bolingbroke should have inherited it, but at John's death an annoyed Richard II kept it along with all the other properties that should have gone to Henry. Henry mounted a campaign to get back what was rightfully his, but it snowballed into an outright rebellion against Richard, who was deposed and held in the Tower of London for awhile before being sent to Pontefract for incarceration. Not long after, Richard was dead (we are told from starvation).

Richard III, after the death of King Edward IV, had two men beheaded at Pontefract: the son and brother of Edward's wife, Elizabeth Woodville. When Henry VIII accused his fifth wife, Catherine Howard, of adultery with Sir Thomas Culpeper, it was thought that the affair began when the king and queen were staying at Pontefract.

A parliament under Oliver Cromwell decided that Pontefract should be demolished and the materials re-used. Now it is possible to see the cellars, but some renovation has taken place.

Henry Grosmont was, as mentioned respected and wealthy, and his death was mourned throughout England. Let's talk about what made him special next time.

Thursday, January 19, 2023

Knight-service

The feudal system could include military duties in exchange for tenancy on the land; forty days was a typical obligation. This might be simply guarding the castle or being an escort, but could also mean going to war. The term for this was "knight-service." A knight in this case refers to a mounted soldier.

The idea was brought to England by William the Conqueror when the value of mounted (and therefore expensive) knights became clear. When William parceled out England to his nobles, who then parceled out their states to their vassals, the smallest unit was kept large enough to furnish the taxes/funds for one knight's fees.

This same system of dividing and sub-dividing the land, called "subinfeudation," was established in Ireland when it was conquered by Henry II. If land was subdivided "too far" then each smaller parcel had to provide the appropriate fraction of a knight's fee to go toward furnishing a knight.

There were other variations over time. In England, only the king was due knight-service, whereas in France other lords could invoke it from those to whom they granted land (giving them opportunities to create their own armies). In the 1100s terms of service were extended, but could also be avoided by scutage, paying a tax to the lord. Scutage made it easier to gather an army, because one could simply collect the money and then hire mercenaries. By 1300, mercenaries were becoming the chief manner of maintaining a military force.

The term for this was routier, and I'll tell you more about them tomorrow.

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Alton Castle

The image to the left shows Alton Towers in 1880, designed by Augustus Pugin, near the town of Alton in Staffordshire (not the Alton where the Treaty of Alton was signed). Although what we see now is a magnificent 19th century building designed as part of the Gothic Revival, the place has a much older history.

In the 1st century BCE there was an Iron Age fort on the site, but more continuity started when King Ceolred of Mercia built a wooden fortress there. The place was attacked by King Ine of Wessex in 716 in a battle so bloody that the location was called Slain Hollow (until Pugin turned it into an oriental water garden).

After the Conquest of 1066, the castle was rebuilt and enlarged in stone by the Norman noble Bertram de Verdun, who had been granted land in England by William. It stayed in the Verdun family through three generations of "Bertram de Verdun"s; then, in 1318, Joan de Verdun married Thomas de Furnival. Thomas died crusading in 1348, and the estate went to Sir John Talbot who married Furnival's daughter Maud. Talbot was created the first Earl of Shrewsbury (sort of; I'll explain later). Alton Castle stayed in the Talbot family; the 16th Earl of Shrewsbury was the owner during the 19th century expansion, after which the building was renamed Alton Towers.

In the 20th century the grounds were opened to the public, and now in the UK the phrase "Alton Towers" invokes images of an enormous theme park and resort that has been developed at the site.

But back to the first Earl of Shrewsbury. The first Earl of Shrewsbury was not the first; I'll explain how there were two "firsts" tomorrow.

Sunday, October 2, 2022

Anglo-Norman Culture

We have looked at the influence on the language in England when it suffered an influx of Norman-French population and administration. This was inevitable, but was not what you would call deliberate. William of Normandy (more commonly known to modern readers as William the Conqueror) did not decree as the new king "Now we start changing the language!"

There were, however, more overt actions taken that demonstrated to the Anglo-Saxons how different things would be from now on. I am going to give you an example using two pictures.

St. John's Church in Escombe is one of four existing Anglo-Saxon churches in England. Built about 670CE with roughly dressed stones, the nave is 43 feet long and 14 feet wide. Contrast that with the New Romney Church tower of the Church of St. Nicholas. Built mid-12th century, it is a typical Norman church, and towers over any buildings nearby, including any Anglo-Saxon structures. Below you'll see a second photo that gives you a better idea of its size.

During William's reign (1066-1087), in a single generation, at least 15 cathedrals were begun, 13 of which stand today. Imagine the culture shock as the newcomers saw these mammoth structures going up and up, dwarfing their own architectural accomplishments.

Deliberate actions, as I said, but was the reason for the building fervor to intimidate the locals? There are other ways to say "We are in charge" than showing off fine Caen marble from your homeland and saying "We worship God better than you." Why giant cathedrals?

Turns out, William probably had a personal rather than a public reason to make attempts to please God. William was illegitimate (one of his epithets is William the Bastard). That's probably not why he built churches, but it was one reason given initially by Matilda of Flanders for refusing his offer of marriage.  She had a better reason for turning him down: their union would violate current laws of consanguinity.

The laws of consanguinity established by the church at that time forbade unions of people within seven generations of relatedness. William was Matilda's third cousin (once removed). We don't know what arguments he used to overcome her objections, but they did marry about 1051, and the flagship he sailed in to England, the Mora, was a gift from Matilda. Some scholars think his building campaign was motivated by appeasing God for all the death caused in the battle for England, for marrying someone to whom he was closely related, and because of a little guilt over taking the throne of England when there was a person who might have had a better claim.

Was everything the Normans built on such a large scale? No. Many defensive structures were not as grand as the churches. Tomorrow let's look at motte-and-bailey.

Saturday, October 1, 2022

How the Normans Changed Our Language

Many of you already know about the Norman Invasion of 1066 when William the Conqueror became ruler of England and the Anglo-Saxons within. The intersection of two cultures will always cause linguistic borrowing, no matter how protective one of them may be (even the French say "hot-dog"). When major changes in society take place, we can expect major changes in language.

In truth, the injection of Norman French vocabulary probably amounted to fewer than 1000 words. They were not random words, however, but words whose presence "reflect[s] the ‘superiority’ of the French culture" to use the words of one scholar. Words like noble, dame, servant, minstrel come from French, as do estate, government, duke, madam, sir.

Even outside of the upper classes, the Norman French words introduced in England are still with us in all walks of life and careers.

Thanks to the Norman influence, we gave ecclesiastical terms clergy, friar, prayer, and the word religion itself! In the legal profession, court, crime, judge and justice are used daily. The military still uses general, sergeant, army, regiment, and siege. A pupil can go to an art lesson and sit in a chair to learn about color or ornament. 

True, some of the words came through French ultimately from Latin, but we cannot know that English would have ultimately gained them otherwise. Or would they? There were two major French dialects that influenced English at different times; there was a second influx of Central French vocabulary in the 13th century, further adding to—and maybe confusing?— the English language.

For instance, Latin caballus (horse), led to Norman French cavalier, but Central French chevalier, which is why in Modern English we have not only cavalier and chevalier, but also cavalry and chivalry. Latin canalis (channel) turned into Norman French canal and Central French chanel, so now we have both canal and channel.

Another telling set of Anglo-Saxon vs. Norman French terms comes when we look at livestock. Anglo-Saxon peasants (peasant is French, but from the 15th century) raised cattle and pigs, but when those animals become food and are served at a table, they are dined on by Norman masters as beef and pork.

But these were more subtle changes than some deliberate actions taken by the Normans to show superiority. I'll talk about Norman culture tomorrow, and what they did to "show off."

Wednesday, June 1, 2022

The Hundred Years' War, Part 1

Simply put, the Hundred Years War was an argument over the rightful ruler(s) of England and France. Officially, it ran from 1337 to 1453, making it 116 years long. It was not an ongoing battle, but a series of battles depending on who decided it was time to assert a claim to the other's throne, and a series of truces depending on who thought they could make a deal that was advantageous to their country.

It started with Duke William of Normandy, alias William the Conqueror. He was a vassal to the king of France because he held Normandy and other territories in France, even though he became king of England in 1066. Here's the issue: should a king be subordinate to another king, just because he holds territory in the other king's country?

France did not like having large swaths of territory held by the English king, and would occasionally occupy and "take back" those territories when England's army was busy elsewhere, such as when it was fighting Scotland. The real sticking point came in 1328 when King Charles IV of France died. He had no sons, and no brothers. France held to something called Salic law, that determined only males could inherit, not females. Charles had a sister, Isabella, who had married Edward II of England. Their son, Edward III, was the closest male heir to Charles, and Isabella claimed that Edward should be King of England and France.

France did not want a non-Frenchman ruling their country, and so they went up the family tree instead of down and the throne was offered to Philip VI, Count of Valois, a cousin through Charles' father. Edward fumed, but gave in, offering loyalty to Philip through Edward's possession of Gascony. This might have settled things, but Philip got greedy. In 1337, he called a Great Council in Paris where they decided that Gascony should not belong to the English king.

Edward III was not going to stand for this insult (and confiscation of his lands), so the war was on. Tomorrow we will see how the first phase went.

Saturday, May 28, 2022

Marmoutier Abbey

American author Henry James took a six-week tour of France in 1883, in which he mentions the "chatty nun" who guided him through Marmoutier Abbey. By that time, most of it had been demolished or simple fallen into disrepair, after having been "disestablished" in 1799 during the French Revolution. (You can see an artist's rendition from 1819 to the left.)

St. Martin was made bishop of Tours in 371 CE. The job was too conspicuous for his taste, so he founded an abbey in 372 into which he could withdraw from the press of public life. Martin's contemporary, Sulpicius Severus, in his biography of St. Martin, describes the restrictions Martin placed on those who wished to join him:

No one there had anything which was called his own; all things were possessed in common. It was not allowed either to buy or to sell anything, as is the custom among most monks. No art was practiced there, except that of transcribers, and even this was assigned to the brethren of younger years, while the elders spent their time in prayer. Rarely did any one of them go beyond the cell, unless when they assembled at the place of prayer. They all took their food together, after the hour of fasting was past. No one used wine, except when illness compelled them to do so. Most of them were clothed in garments of camels' hair. Any dress approaching to softness was there deemed criminal, and this must be thought the more remarkable, because many among them were such as are deemed of noble rank.

This was prior to the strict set of rules for monastic living formulated by St. Benedict and adopted by so many abbeys.

The abbey fell on had times when the Normans invaded and damaged it in 853, killing over 100 monks. Abbot Majolus of Cluny (Cluny was mentioned here) restored it in 982; a generation later, it was thriving and becoming one of the richest abbeys in Europe. You can read here how a monk of the abbey attended the Battle of Hastings and suggested to William the Conqueror that an abbey be built on the site. That abbey was "seeded" with monks from Marmoutier, which led Marmoutier to claim control over it, but the idea was rejected.

Now it is a Catholic school, the Institution Marmoutier, whose webpage begins Sur les pas de Saint Martin, symbole universel du partage. "In the footsteps of St. Martin, the universal symbol of sharing."

Time to take a closer look at St. Martin, I think.

Friday, May 27, 2022

The Abbot of Battle

Yesterday I presented a series of facts (as we know them) about the founding of Battle Abbey. Today we take a look at a story of the founding.

A manuscript called The Chronicle of Battle Abbey tells this story that took place during :

When William, duke of Normandy, looked from the high ground of Telham Hill upon the forces of King Harold, he vowed that if God gave him the victory he would found a monastery upon the place of battle. Amongst those who heard this vow was a monk of Marmoutier, William called 'the smith,' who when William had obtained the crown of England urged him to fulfil his promise; the king willingly agreed and entrusted William with the execution of his design. 

The monk, therefore, brought over from Marmoutier four of his brethren, but as the actual site of the battle seemed to them unsuitable for a great monastery, they began to build on the lower ground to the west. When the Conqueror heard of this he angrily insisted that the foundations should rest upon the very spot where he had achieved his victory, and upon the monks pleading a scarcity of water he replied, 'If God spare my life I will so amply provide for this place that wine shall be more abundant here than water is in any other great abbey.' 

 ...  For various reasons, however, building progressed slowly, and it was not until 1076 that things were sufficiently advanced for an abbot to be appointed. Robert Blancard, one of the four monks who had first come over, was elected, but on his way back from Marmoutier he was drowned. Accordingly William 'the smith' was sent to Marmoutier to fetch Gausbert, who came with four of his brethren and was consecrated abbot of St. Martin's of the place of Battle.

In Heads of Religious Houses: England and Wales 940–1216, the authors compile lists of abbots, etc., that include Battle Abbey. From their research, Robert Blanchard was the first abbot, starting in 1067. He had previously been a monk at Marmoutier Abbey. Marmoutier Abbey was founded in 327 CE by St. Martin of Tours, which explains why Battle Abbey was dedicated to Martin.

Pope Alexander II telling William to do penance for all the souls killed in the battle is true. Battle Abbey being built "on the lower ground to the west" away from Senlac Hill where the fighting actually took place  is accurate. A conversation in the middle of a huge battle between the leader of one side and a monk hanging out is ... less likely. Making sure there is a compelling story behind the founding of the abbey to enhance your reputation ... priceless.

Under the third abbot of Battle Abbey, Henry of Bec (appointed 1096, died 1102), Marmoutier tried to claim control over Battle Abbey. It didn't happen, but let's learn more about Marmoutier next.

Thursday, May 26, 2022

Battle Abbey

You would think that the name "Battle" for a religious house must be an abbreviation of some more appropriate term, and you would be wrong. It is named for one of the most pivotal moments in the history of England, the Battle of Hastings and the death of King Harold.

Once William the Conqueror won, he began a building campaign of massive churches whose size completely dwarfed the smaller Anglo-Saxon buildings they were meant to replace. This had the effect not only of impressing upon the natives how different everything would be, but was also likely a way to atone for the bloodshed he had caused. This second reason was important, since Pope Alexander II in 1070 ordered him to do penance for the deaths he caused.

To that end, he ordered the construction of an abbey whose high altar should stand on the exact spot where Harold's standard fell, marking victory for the Normans. The abbey was dedicated to St. Martin of Tours (4th century), who had been a soldier before becoming third bishop of Tours and one of the most popular French saints. Despite that dedication, however, the place was referred to as Battle (or "Battel") Abbey, and the town of Battle developed next to it.

We don't know when exactly it was started, but in 1070 William invited 60 Benedictines to establish a monastery. His intent was that it would eventually house 140 monks. Enough was built for it to be habitable by 1076; it was finished in 1094. by William's . He endowed it with many estates, so that it became one of the richest monasteries in England.

When Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, Battle Abbey was given to one of the king's friends, who demolished most of it and turned the remainder into a large manor house. Little of the original remains, but visitors are welcome, historical reenactments take place on the grounds, and a plaque and stone stand where (we suppose) the high altar once stood.

There is a slightly different story about the founding of Battle Abbey that also establishes a closer link to St. Martin of Tours. I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Regarding Henry

Henry II was king of England from 1154 (when he was 21) until his death in 1189. His mother, Matilda, fought to get the throne of England away from Stephen of Blois, a grandson of William the Conqueror, and arranged what was essentially a military coup that was resolved with a peace treaty in 1153 that agreed to let Henry inherit when Stephen died—which Stephen obligingly did a year later.

Henry was a king of England who did not speak English: he spoke only Latin and French. During his reign, Henry ruled much of England, gained control over Wales, and held substantial land on the continent. He had been named Duke of Normandy (in northwest France) in 1150, and became Duke of Aquitaine (in southwest France) in 1152 upon his marriage to Eleanor of Aquitaine. He also had occasional control over Scotland and Brittany.

He was described as a short, stocky, good-looking redhead, bow-legged from all the horseback riding. He was reported to have great energy, which he applied to (among other things) reforming/standardizing royal law, where previously there had been several variations due to local tradition. His reign resulted in the first comprehensive treatise on English law, the Treatise of Glanvill, which is worth taking a look at...next time.

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

The King and London

The Tower of London is the most visited tourist site in London. It was built by William the Conqueror to be the king's home when he was in London. It was built not to be just a home, however, but a fortress. London was not necessarily a safe haven for the king. Its citizens enjoyed a level of control over their own fates and weren't about to let the king change that.

William recognized this, and made sure that he had a secure place to stay when he visited London. The White Tower (named because it used to be whitewashed) was designed for this. More than that, he built another fortress at Windsor, where he could station troops that would be a day's march from London if he needed support.

William even built two more fortresses within London's walls: Baynard and Montfichet. He couldn't entrust his fortresses to local people, so he put them in the hands of Normans who followed him over the Channel. Baynard and Montfichet were barons into whose hands he put those properties.

Although he might have felt he would be reasonably safe from an uprising, he took to heart the importance of independence to the citizenry of London, the most important city on the island. There still exists his charter, granting to "all the citizens, French and English" the same "laws and customs as they were in King Edward's time."

Thursday, April 21, 2016

The First Prisoner

Ralph Flambard was born in Bayeux, Normandy six years before William the Conqueror crossed the English Channel and became King of England. When he grew up, however, he became intertwined with the affairs of William and his sons.

Depiction of Flambard in stone
for Christ Church, Dorset
He must have been a clever lad, because he was one of the people put in charge of the Domesday Book in 1086, to make an account of all the lands and towns in England. He also became the keeper of the king's seal; documents had to pass through him to be stamped as official. When William died, Ralph chose to serve the new king, William Rufus.

Under Rufus, Flambard showed notable talent at raising funds for the king—and himself. He took control of empty parishes (up to 16 at one point), so that rent from their tenants flowed to him. With the money he was raising for the Crown, he built the first stone bridge in London (but not London Bridge itself). It was at this time that the king's hall was built in Westminster, the walls of which are still standing.

When William Rufus died in 1100, Ralph Flambard, now Bishop of Durham, was made a scapegoat for the financial hardships put on the citizens of England. King Henry I made Flambard the first person to be imprisoned in the Tower of London.

He also became the first man to escape the Tower of London.

The story goes that his friends sent to him a large jug of wine. (Prisoners in the Tower were not fed well, and food and drink from family and friends were allowed in order to sustain them.) Inside the jug was a rope. Flambard offered his captors wine, and when they were drunk and sleeping, he extracted the rope, tied it to the middle strut of the window, and climbed down to where his friends were waiting with horses to take him and his elderly mother to a boat that would whisk him to safety in Normandy.

Archbishop Anselm of Canterbury arranged a papal trial for the crime of simony. Henry officially confiscated his lands. Archbishop Gerard of York took away his title of bishop. Flambard didn't care: he had had dealings with every important member of William the Conqueror's family except one—the out-of-favor eldest son, Robert Curthose. He made his way to Robert, the Duke of Normandy; he had a plan.

[to be continued]

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Robert Curthose

Yesterday's post mentioned Henry becoming king of England upon the death of his brother, William Rufus. Their father was William the Conqueror. William had more than two sons, however. In fact, neither Henry nor William Rufus was his eldest son.

His eldest was Robert Curthose (c.1051 - 3 February 1134). He might have eventually succeeded his father to the throne of England, but his own actions got in the way.

Robert had some admirable qualities, as noted by William of Malmesbury in his Gesta Regum Anglorum [Deeds of the Kings of England]:
...considered as a youth of excellent courage... of tried prowess, though of small stature and projecting belly... he was neither ill-made, nor deficient in eloquence, nor was he wanting in courage or resources of the mind. [Note the "small stature" line; the nickname, "curthose" likely derived from his legs being a little shorter than usual]
But he had a temper. In 1077—still a young man—his younger brothers were bored, and dumped the contents of a chamber pot on Robert from an upper gallery. The boys got into a fight, which their father had to break up. Enraged that his father did not punish the instigators, the very next day Robert tried to capture one of his father's castles, at Rouen. He failed, and fled ultimately to Flanders, where his mother secretly sent him money to support him. His mother, Matilda, arranged a reconciliation between father and son from that lasted from 1080 until her death in 1083, after which Robert left court and traveled Europe.

On William the Conqueror's death in 1087, he left England's throne to William Rufus, and £5000 silver to Henry. To his estranged and difficult eldest son, Robert, he left Normandy—a generous gift considering the troubles between them.

Robert continued to cause trouble for his siblings, however; a story for tomorrow.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

We Hardly Knew Ye...

Queen Elizabeth II of England recently passed a milestone, becoming the longest-reigning monarch of England. I am not certain of the "longest reign" candidates from other countries, but there is well-documented evidence of those who reigned the shortest.

Of course we know about Harold Godwinson, whose nine months and nine days was cut short by William the Conqueror in 1066. Sad for him, but his reign—albeit filled with warfare—was more leisurely than some. With Harold's death, technically he was succeeded by Edgar II, but after one month and 25 days, he relinquished his claim to William.

Empress Matilda was a claimant for the English throne during the Anarchy (discussed here, here, here, and here). She reigned less than nine months in 1141.

King Edmund Ironside (died 1016) ruled Wessex in England for seven months. and seven days King Lulach of the Scots  "beat" him in 1057 by reigning five days fewer, while the Scottish Duncan II lasted less than six months. King Hildebrand of the Lombards was just under seven months, in 744. Dafydd ap Gruffyd lasted for six months and 11 days.

Alexios IV Angelus, who ran afoul of the European 4th Crusaders who helped him to his throne, managed five months and 26 days. But his father, Isaac II Angelus, lasted less than five months. Their usurper, Alexios V Doukas, lasted even less: two months and a week.

Charles II of Hungary was murdered after one month and 24 days, in 1386.

Svein Forkbeard usurped the throne from Æthelred II, but held it only one month and nine days; it went back to Æthelred on Svein's death in 1014.

Then there was the Year of the Four Emperors (in Rome), but that was in the first century CE, and a little too early for a blog with "medieval" in its name. (But, for the record, they were just post-Nero: Galba, Otho, Vitellius, Vespasian.)

If you didn't know how short your reign was, would it matter? King John I of France and Navarre reigned five days. He was the heir of Louis X; John died on 20 November 1316, aged five days!

But... what if John I actually didn't die after five days? I will have a story for you tomorrow about that.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

The Battle of Senlac Hill

Best guess arrangement of opposing troops
The Battle of Hastings gets remembered on 14 October; that's when the forces of William of Normandy defeated the (already exhausted) forces of Harold Godwinsson at Hastings. Except it isn't...at Hastings, that is. It was fought at Senlac Hill, or Senlac Ridge, several miles from the town of Hastings. The name is the shortened form of the Norman Sanguelac ["Blood Lake"], which was their post-Conquest pun on the original name of Sandlacu ["sandy lake"]; there is a stream that crosses the fields below the hill. In fact, the site now has a town called (almost predictably) Battle, and Battle Abbey, which was built to commemorate the Norman victory. The Domesday Book commissioned in 1085 referred to it as bellum Hasestingas ["Battle of Hastings"], and yet the battle was being referred to as Senlac in other chronicles.

Harold managed to reach Senlac and array his troops on the high ground, giving them a tactical advantage over the Normans below. William's forces, however, fought bravely—first with archers, then with spears—and then an accidental retreat drew the English off the high ground in pursuit, whereupon the Normans turned around and continued the fight.

There were not many details written down about the battle, but we can make some assumptions. Fighting would have to take place in daylight, so a charge could not start much earlier than the 6:48am sunrise would allow. Also, sunset was at 4:54pm, and it would have been fully dark on the battlefield by 5:54pm. The moon did not rise until hours later, and so principal fighting would not have extended much past sunset. It only needed a day, however, to change the course of English history.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Battle of Stamford Bridge, Part 2

The first part is here.

Death of Harald Hardrada, illustration from Matthew Paris
King Harold Godwinson of England, hearing that King Harald Hardrada of Norway had invaded the north of England and, with Harold's brother Tostig Godwinson, had captured York, marched quickly to meet him, covering over 180 miles in four days. On 25 September 1066, the two armies met at Stamford Bridge.

The presence of an actual Stamford Bridge has been disputed. Stamford does not appear in the Domesday Book, compiled 20 years later to tally all of the king's possessions in England. It is, however, mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. We just don't know where it was. The River Derwent (by which the battle took place) must have had a crossing, and there may have been a bridge then of which now we can find no trace, but there must have been something somewhere along the Derwent that allowed the English to cross it and engage the Norwegian army.

Hardrada's forces were completely unaware that the English army was so near. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle reports that a single axe-man ran to the bridge to hold off the crossing English at a narrow point, killing two score English until one passed under the bridge in a boat and stabbed upward with a spear. The delay allowed the invaders to hastily pull themselves into a defensive circle and put up a shield wall—but not enough time to put on their armor. Harold was able to surround them and attack the shield wall in several places. The battle lasted hours, but the lack of preparation among the Norwegians wore them down. Despite the arrival of reinforcements who had been left guarding their ships, Tostig was slain, and an arrow to Hardrada's windpipe brought him down, putting his army into disarray. They were wiped out by the English. It is said that, 50 years later, the field was still littered with bleached bones of the slain.

Harold took pledges from Hardrada's son Olaf, that he would never attack England again. Of the 300 ships they brought to attack England, only 24 were needed to return the survivors. It was a definitive defeat that sent a signal to all the Scandinavian countries. Harold had a right to be proud.

Three days after the battle, on 28 September, William of Normandy arrived on the southern coast with an army from Normandy. But that story has been told before.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

The Lewes Skeleton

The skull of Skeleton 180, with sword damage
The monks of Lewes Priory ran a Hospital of St. Nicholas in the Middle Ages, now long gone. In the early 1990s, during an excavation of the site, a number of skeletons were unearthed. One of them, "Skeleton 180," showed evidence of several sword blows to the skull. The proximity to the site of the Battle of Lewes, and the fact that hastily dug mass graves were a common after-effect of large battles,  led to the conclusion that he was killed in 1264 while either attacking or defending King Henry III.

The skull was sent to the University of Edinburgh for radiocarbon dating, and the results were surprising: it was much older than 1264. In fact, it dated to within a generation (before or after) of the Norman Conquest. The picture it suggests of the events around 1066—and this is the only skeletal remains we have even remotely connected to the fighting that was part of the Norman Conquest—adds a little more detail to our understanding of what happened when William of Normandy decided to assert his claim to the throne of England.
"There is no record of any skirmishes happening in Lewes or any other towns in Sussex at the Norman Conquest, but this suggests that the Normans didn't just turn up and say, 'We're in charge', and everyone said, 'OK, that's fine'. It begins to paint a picture of what might have happened in the aftermath." [source]
As we know, lifestyle leaves an imprint on the body that can be analyzed by forensic science.
Osteoarchaeologist Malin Holst from the University of York, who was commissioned by Sussex Archaeological Society to examine the skeleton, said: “The first injury was probably a cut to the right side of the ear and upper jaw. This was then followed by a series of sword cuts, all delivered from the left hand side behind the victim, in a downward and horizontal motion.” 
However she has discovered much more which helps build up a picture of the individual. Malin said: “He ate a diet particularly rich in marine fish, and was at least 45 years old but may have been older. He had some spinal abnormalities and suffered from chronic infection of the sinuses. He showed age-related wear and tear of the joints of his spine, shoulders and left wrist, which might have been uncomfortable. He had lost a few teeth during life, possibly as a result of receding gums. He had two small tumours on his skull.” [source]
Skeleton 180 provides a are glimpse into a life from the 11th century.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

The Fighting Bishop

Tomb of Remigius, Lincoln Cathedral [link]
A "ship list" exists of the ships used by William of Normandy when he conquered England in 1066. It records who contributed the ship and in many cases the men and supplies aboard. One of the ships was provided by Remigius de Fécamp, a Benedictine monk.

The exact participation of Remigius is in dispute. According to the historian Henry of Huntingdon (c.1088 - c.1157), Remigius fought at the Battle of Hastings, bringing 20 knights along with his ship. Gerald of Wales, however, who thought so highly of Remigius that he tried to get him canonized as a saint (it never happened), said he only came along with 10 knights that were sent from the region of Fécamp.

His contribution must have been significant, because after the Conquest he was made the Bishop of Dorchester, which at the time was the largest diocese in England. But he had to continue "fighting": his ordination by Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury was a point of contention when papal legates came to England in 1070 and pushed Stigand out of his office, also reversing the appointment of Remigius to Dorchester. Stigand's successor, Lanfranc, wouldn't touch the subject of Remigius' legitimacy, and Remigius had to travel to Rome in 1071 to seek forgiveness from Pope Alexander II and become "properly" re-appointed as a bishop.

Was there smooth sailing now that he was recognized as Bishop of Dorchester? Not quite. There were two archbishoprics in England—York and Canterbury—and each one claimed that Dorchester belonged in its territory and Remigius' loyalty was to that archbishop. Lanfranc and the Archbishop of York, Thomas of Bayeaux, appealed to Pope Alexander II who, even though he was a former pupil of Lanfranc's and held him in high esteem, refused to take sides, pushing the debate back to the king's council in England.

The council ruled that Dorchester (and Lichfield and Worcester, to which York also lay claim), belonged to Canterbury. Still, Thomas would occasionally ask for help from Remigius, such as during the consecration of the Bishop of the Orkney Islands. Remigius, not wanting to set a precedent that he "worked for" York, appealed to Canterbury to keep him away from the ceremony.

Remigius had a long and busy career, taking part in William's courts, and sitting on the commission that produced the Domesday Book. He died on 7 May 1092 and was buried in Lincoln Cathedral, where his bones, chalice, paten, and half of his crozier were recovered in 1927.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

England's Best Hidden Treasure

First page of the Textus Roffensis.
The water damage is from the early 1700s.
The Textus de Ecclesia Roffensi per Ernulphum episcopum ["The Book of the Church of Rochester through Bishop Ernulf"] has been voted England's Best Hidden Treasure by the British Library. It can currently be found in the Medway Studies Centre in Rochester, England, and online. It is 235 vellum leaves from two manuscripts written in the early 1120s, mostly by a single scribe.

What makes it so special? The subject matter, partly. The first manuscript that comprises the Textus Roffensis is is a copy of the laws during the reign of Æthelbert. By creating this record, we have the earliest known example of an (Old) English document,* since the laws of Æthelbert were assembled by 604. And the English is rare: most Anglo-Saxon documents are in the dominant West Saxon dialect, but the Textus is in the Jutish dialect of Anglo-Saxon.

Æthelbert's laws were referenced by Alfred the Great when he created his own laws, and were mentioned by Bede. The Textus was clearly only one of a number of manuscripts that existed to carry these laws to others.

The Textus also has laws from Æthelbert's successors. Wihtred of Kent (reigned c.690 - 725), who died on 23 April 725, created many laws that gave rights to the Church. For example, the Church was free from taxation, and a bishop's word was considered as good as a king's oath.

One of the reasons the Textus Roffensis is prized by English historians is that its attempt to bring together several of the laws of kings in one document:
represents a new self-conscious attempt at recording an English heritage, after the Norman Conquest. The incomers needed an effective guide to the law of King Edward (i.e. King Edward the Confessor) as the Conqueror and King Henry his son promised to observe it; incomer and native alike needed all the resources of the book to preserve their ancient rights and recent acquisitions. [source]
Compiled as it was in the 1120s, the Textus Roffensis is seen as a reminder to the Norman rulers of what rights and privileges were held prior to the Norman Invasion that they were promised would be respected.

*Technically, it also qualifies as the earliest example of a Germanic language document, so no other German-language records exist from the early 7th century.