Royal: Arthur, Duke of Brittany, 1187-c 1203

Being a royal or noble child in the Medieval world was a dangerous proposition, particularly for heirs to the throne.  There were always others in the family who felt they had a better claim or more of a right to inherit and, with no adults capable of protecting them, such children could become princes and princesses in towers, forgotten by history and perhaps even killed to eliminate their claim to the crown.

Arthur, 1187-c 1203, was the son of Geoffrey Plantagenet and his wife, Constance, Duchess of Brittany in her own right.  Geoffrey was, in his turn, the son of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Thus, Arthur, through his father, had a viable claim to the throne of England as well as the rest of the Plantagenet holdings on the Continent.  Geoffrey died in 1186, while Constance was pregnant with Arthur.  Henry II died in 1189, which left Arthur the heir apparent, though that term wasn't in use at the time.  Richard I intended to make Arthur his heir if he didn't have children of his own marriage, which he never did.  He wanted to marry Arthur to the daughter of Tancred of Sicily but Tancred's death scuttled that plan.  Richard was busy with the Third Crusade and was later captured by Leopold of Austria, so Arthur's future was on hold.  Constance tried to arrange a marriage between her son and the daughter of Phillip II of France but a knight in the service of John, Ranulf, Earl of Chester, kidnapped Arthur and his mother on their way to negotiate the marriage. 

Richard was able to rescue Arthur and his mother and again declared Arthur his heir.  This was technically correct.  Geoffrey was older than John and his son would have a more senior claim.  However, in those days, royal and noble titles wen to anyone who could fight to gain and keep them, regardless of birth order.  Richard's life was cut short by an unlucky arrow shot in 1199 and John wouldn't be denied the prizes he'd sought for so long, King of England, Duke of Normandy and ruler of the Plantagenet empire.  Arthur was 12 years old and on the verge of what the Medieval world would have considered adulthood, although still young and weak.  He promptly performed homage to King Phillip for Brittany and for the Plantagenet lands in France on condition that Phillip back his claim to the English throne.  John again intervened, ordering the arrest of Constance of Brittany and Arthur.  They escaped and fled to Phillip's dominions.

Then, in 1200, John and Phillip agreed the Treaty of Le Goulet, which called for Phillip to recognize John as Richard's heir and King of England.  John would recognize Phillip as his overlord for the domains in France, with the exception of Brittany.  For a payment of 20,000 marks, John retained suzerain rights over Brittany and thus jurisdiction over Constance and Arthur.  Arthur and John at first mended fences, but by 1202, Arthur was negotiating his own marriage to Marie of France, Phillip's daughter.  Poitou revolted in favor of Arthur, who laid siege to Eleanor of Aquitaine in the Chateau de Mirabeau.  On July 31, 1202, John marched to his mother's rescue at Mirabeau and took Arthur captive, placing him in the Chateau of Falaise in Normandy.

Arthur was put under the custody of Hubert de Burgh, who at first treated him kindly enough.  In 1203, Arthur was transferred to Rouen under the custody of William de Braose, where he soon after disappeared.  Stories mounted that John himself killed Arthur and ordered his body dumped in the Seine.  William de Braose was also accused of having killed Arthur at John's order.  How, why and when Arthur died will forever remain a mystery.  His sister Eleanor remained a prisoner of her uncle in England, never having a family or being able to rule Brittany in her own right.  That privilege passed to Arthur and Eleanor's half-sister Alys, Constance's daughter by a subsequent marriage.  Arthur features in Shakespeare's play, The Life and Death of King John.  He also figures in alternative histories in which the Plantagenet line survives and continues to rule England in modern times.

Did It Happen: Lady Salisbury's Grisly Death

On May 27, 1541, a 68-year-old woman incarcerated in the Tower of London was told she had an hour to prepare for a traitor's death.  She had been born a Plantagenet, the daughter of George, Duke of Clarence, niece of Richard III and Edward IV, cousin to Elizabeth of York and Elizabeth's son, Henry VIII.  She had been given her father's earldom of Salisbury, ranking as a peer in her own right and one of the wealthiest people in England.  But in November 1538, she'd been arrested, tried, condemned as a traitor and forfeited of her hands and titles, becoming plain Margaret Pole.  For nearly 3 years she waited in her cell at the Tower for whatever Henry VIII had in store for her.

Margaret didn't have lion's blood in her veins for nothing.  She was firmly convinced of her innocence and resolved to fight to the end.  She had vigorously defended herself at her trial.  In her cell a poem was found with a defiant line, "I am no traitor, no not I!"  Legend states that she had to be dragged kicking and screaming from her cell and refused to lay her head on the block, refused to remain still and forced the executioner to swing wildly, mutilating her.  Other legends take it further, that at some point she tried to get up and run, as the executioner pursued her swinging the axe until he either knocked her unconscious and tried to behead her, or a soldier or someone from the crowd took over the job.

Did it happen?

Two contemporary sources survive of her execution, one by the French ambassador Marillac, and the other by Eustache Chapuys, Imperial Ambassador of the Holy Roman Empire.  The one thing both sources agree on was that Margaret's end wasn't clean or quick.  Because of her noble birth, she wasn't executed on Tower Hill, but within the precincts of the Tower, somewhere on what is now Tower Green.  This privacy insured a small number of onlookers.  According to Marillac, there were so few onlookers that many Londoners doubted the execution happened.  Chapuys later wrote that 150 people were present, including the Lord Mayor of London.  There was no indication that either Marillac or Chapuys themselves were present.  Both were Catholics representing Catholic monarchies.  Margaret was Catholic.  Her son Reginald was a Cardinal.  As a born Plantagenet and cousin to the Tudor family, Henry would've considered her execution a private matter.  Foreign ambassadors wouldn't have been invited or welcomed.  Marillac's account gives few details, but Chapuys, writing two weeks after the fact, indicated that the official execution had been sent North to deal with rebels there and a young substitute was assigned to do the execution.  He noted that, when informed of her death, Margaret, "found the thing very strange, not knowing of what crime she was accused, or how she'd been sentenced." Chapuys also wrote that the executioner was a "young and blundering youth, who literally hacked her head and shoulders to pieces in the most pitiful manner."  No one mentions Margaret's resistance until centuries later, when Burke's Peerage described Margaret refusing to put her head on the block, writhing around and putting up a fight.

So, did she?  Although she probably wasn't the most compliant defendant who'd ever been beheaded, chances are Margaret didn't quite go kicking and screaming to her end.  A traitor's death for women was already prescribed in Edward III's Statute of Treasons, burning at the stake.  Beheading was a commuted sentence, given by Henry in light of her royal birth, her age and most likely the idea that he wanted to draw as least attention to the situation as possible.  While there wasn't a written code for how to behave at one's own execution, there were a few basic notions that Margaret, who'd lived through the Wars of the Roses, Richard III's downfall, and two tumultuous Tudor reigns would've been aware of.  Henry VIII wasn't a man to be trifled with.  If he wanted to and was angry enough, he could've ordered her burned at any time.  Further, in that day and age, showing fear and putting a fight wouldn't have signaled her innocence to onlookers, but would have been evidence of her guilt and, possibly, that her soul wasn't saved.  Margaret was a pious woman who'd been a Lady in Waiting to Katherine of Aragon, loyal to her and Henry's daughter Mary, and was partly killed because she'd refused to betray her sons to Henry.  She would have wanted to send the opposite signal.  She was a mother defending her sons.  She was a martyr dying for her faith.  She was a defenseless old woman dying at the hands of a tyrant who'd already murdered one wife and was about to strike again at another.  She was the last of the Plantagenets.  No matter how young and inept her executioner was, she would've gone out, not a writhing, sniveling ninny, but strong, courageous and unafraid.

So, why the legend?  Beheadings happened frequently in Tudor England, but they were, in the grand scheme of things, rare.  Most headsmen were experienced hangmen, and would've known how to conduct a branding, flogging or even a burning, but few were ever called upon to perform a beheading.  It was an assignment as daunting to those assigned to do the deed, as to the defendant on the receiving end of the blade.  For that reason, defendants would pay their executioners and try to remain as compliant as possible to avoid making the matter worse.  When things went awry, as they sometimes did, the results were horrifying and it was the defendant who was blamed.  Had they lain down to the block a certain way, put their heads a certain way, refrained from moving, they wouldn't have been mutilated.  Over time, it was the executioner's reputation that mattered, not Margaret's.  At some point, someone put dramatic license on her defiant poem and colored the story with an uncooperative defendant, rather than a bumbling executioner.  Burke's Peerage picked it up and the rest was history. 

Still, one has to give Margaret her due.  In the name of her family and her faith she'd defied the most dangerous king of his time, and dared anyone to call her traitor.  Whether she wrote this poem or not, it befits a Plantagenet lioness, so here it is:

For traitors on the block should die,
I am no traitor, no-not I!
My faithfulness stands fast and so,
Towards the block I shall not go!
Nor make one step, as you shall see,
Christ, in thy mercy, save thou me!

Extended Family: the Tour de Nesle Affair

Family is drama, no matter where the family falls on the social scale.  In 1314, the family of Isabella of France, the wife of Edward II, had a whopper of a scandal that held repercussions for the Capetian dynasty and tangentially the Plantagenets in England. 

Phillip IV of France is popularly known in history as the Fair, meaning the Handsome.  He's also called the Iron King.  A good-looking, intelligent and proud man who took no nonsense from anybody, he'd broken the Knights Templar and expected implicit obedience from his children.  He had three sons, Louis, Phillip and Charles.  He also had a daughter, Isabella.  Making dynastic marriages for all of these children was critical.  In 1305, he married his son Louis to Margaret, elder daughter of the Duke of Burgundy.  In 1307, he arranged for Phillip to marry Jeanne, daughter of the Count of Burgundy.  How Burgundy could have a duke and a count is material for another post.  Finally, in 1308, Phillip IV married Isabella to Edward II of England, and his son Charles to Blanche, Margaret's sister. 

In 1313, Isabella's marriage with Edward was on the rocks.  He was spending most of his time with his companion, some said lover, Piers Gaveston, and heavily in debt with the ongoing war with Scotland.  Isabella and Edward visited France to request a loan from her father.  Isabella brought as gifts embroidered purses for each member of her family.  In that day and age both genders carried purses.  In 1314, some of Isabella's family visited her in London and she noticed that the purses she'd given to her sisters-in-law were now dangling from the girdles of two knights in their entourage, brothers Gautier and Phillip d'Aunay.  Fuming, Isabella went to her father with her immediate suspicions.  The three Burgundian women were having an affair.  Why Isabella ratted out her sisters-in-law is anyone's guess.  Neither Louis nor Charles had children and Phillip, Jr., had only girls with Jeanne.  Did she suspect she could prevent them from having any heirs, and pave the way for her son Edward to inherit his grandfather's throne?  Possible, but highly unlikely.  It was also ironic, given that Isabella was likely involved with Roger de Mortimer after the fact, and later helped plot Edward II's overthrow. 

Phillip IV had the d'Aunay brothers put under surveillance and they were tracked to a guardhouse in Paris known as the Tour de Nesle.  All three Burgundian women had attended parties there with their social circle, which included the d'Aunays.  Rumor had it that they had all three committed adultery with the d'Aunays and others.  Louis, who was known as the Headstrong or the Quarrelsome, was ready to believe to it, as was Charles.  Phillip stuck by Jeanne.  Phillip IV was unmoved and had the d'Aunay brothers and his three daughters-in-law arrested.  The men confessed under torture, were convicted of lese-majeste and castrated before being killed by being broken on the wheel before beheading.  Margaret and Blanche were convicted, had their heads shaved, and were imprisoned in Chateau Gaillard.  Jeanne was declared innocent but placed under house arrest.  Phillip, Jr., continued to protest his wife's innocence. 

Were Blanche and Margaret guilty, probably of indiscretion if not of outright adultery.  Did Jeanne know of what they were doing and turn a blind eye?  Most likely.  Phillip's letters indicated that he had some love for her, but Jeanne was heiress to her father's estate as well as her mother's and, as a middle son, Phillip could have used the money.  The scandal may have taken a toll on Phillip IV's health, as he died a few months later.  When Louis became King, he had his marriage to Margaret annulled.  She died in 1315 while still imprisoned and was possibly murdered.  Louis married Clementia of Hungary, but died in 1316 after over-exerting at tennis.  Phillip and Jeanne were crowned King and Queen of France in 1317.  They had four surviving daughters, but no son.  Phillip himself died in 1322, leaving Jeanne a widow.  In 1329, she inherited her father's estate, becoming Jeanne II, Countess of Burgundy in her own right.  She later followed her mother as Countess of Artois. 

Blanche remained in prison at Chateau Gaillard for 8 long years.  When Charles became King in 1322, he had their marriage annulled and Margaret herself consigned to a convent.  He remarried but his second marriage was also childless.  This scandal led to a tightening of the Salic Law, which prevented women from inheriting titles.  Jeanne's children could never become Queens of France in their own right.  Instead, the Kingdom passed to the first Valois heir, Phillip VI.  Meanwhile in England, Isabella thought her son Edward should inherit his grandfather's throne.  The rivalry between the English and French claims to the throne of France would spark the Hundred Years War and not be settled entirely until the French Revolution ended the monarchy in 1789.

Treaty: Northampton-Edinburgh of 1328

For most Braveheart loving Scots, the First War of Scottish Independence was won and done at Bannockburn in 1314.  Purists would argue not so fast.  The war actually ended in 1328 with the Treaty of Northampton-Edinburgh of 1328.  The First Scottish War of Independence was in reality a succession war, fought between adherents of the Bruces and Balliols who had, to their peril, urged Edward I of England to become involve.  He invaded Scotland in 1396 in support of the Balliol candidate and it would take William Wallace, Robert Bruce and hundreds of very determined Scots to get the English back on their side of the border.

But there was no guarantee that they would stay there.  A piece of paper wouldn't change English ambitions to unite the Isle of Britain.  Any treaty was only as good as the paper it was written on, unless it was sweetened with a bribe.  For 100,000 pounds sterling, the British agreed to recognize Scotland as fully independent, to recognize Robert Bruce and his heirs as the rightful rulers of Scotland, and to maintain the border as it stood under the reign of Alexander III, whose untimely and childless demise touched off the conflict in the first place.  Edward III's advisors, acting on his behalf, agreed to the union of 7 year old Princess Joan of the Tower with 4 year old Prince David Bruce of Scotland. 

The treaty was written in French, with two copies made top and bottom on a single large sheet of paper.  After the ambassadors for both England and Scotland attested the terms as correct, the treaty was cut through the middle along a wavy line.  If the validity of the document was ever questioned, the two halves could be matched up to authenticate it.  Later, both Robert Bruce and Edward III affixed their seals to straps on the bottom half of the document, which remained in Edinburgh.  It's in the possession of the Scottish National Archives today, minus the wax seals which have long gone.  Within 5 years, David and Joan would be on the run to France and England and Scotland back at war.  The feuding wouldn't stop until Flodden Field in 1514, and the personal union between England and Scotland in 1603 with the reign of James I and VI, who had Bruce, Plantagenet, Stuart and Tudor descent.

Queen: Joan of the Tower, Queen of Scotland, 1321-1362

Three Plantagenet princesses married into the royal family of Scotland, Joan, daughter of John, Margaret, daughter of Henry III, and another Joan, daughter of Edward II.  And, all three marriages ended up loveless, childless and in name only.  Edward's daughter Joan, 1321-1362 was, as her name suggests, born at the Tower of London.  Her father, Edward, died in 1327, when Joan was barely six years old.  In 1328, the Treaty of Northampton officially ended the First Scottish War of Independence, with the marriage alliance of David II, son of Robert Bruce, and Joan.  David was only four.  They were married at Berwick on Tweed, on the border between England and Scotland.  Robert Bruce died in 1329, and his son David was crowned at Scone in 1331, making Joan Queen Consort of Scotland at the tender age of 10.

The Treaty of Northampton solved nothing.  England and Scotland were soon locked in war again.  Edward III backed a Balliol claimant for the Scottish throne and scored a victory at Halidon Hill in 1333.  Joan and David were sent for safekeeping to France, where Joan's cousin through her mother, Phillip VI, was king.  Phillip granted the exiled Scottish king and his entourage the use of Chateau Gaillard, Joan's great-great-uncle Richard I's masterpiece on the Seine River.  At some point, Joan and David would have been deemed old enough to begin living together as husband and wife, but no children ever ensued from their marriage.  In 1341, they returned to Scotland and David began ruling as king in his own right.  He was captured by English forces at Neville's Cross in 1346 and was imprisoned in Joan's own birthplace, the Tower of London, for 11 years.

Joan was permitted to visit her husband, but still no children came along.  In 1357, when David was released, Joan made the decision to remain in England.  Her mother, Isabella of France, was old and ailing and Joan wished to care for her in her final years.  Edward and David permitted her to stay in England.  Joan herself died in 1362 at Hertford Castle.  She was buried in Christ Church, Greyfriars, London, but no trace of her tomb survives to this day.

Place: Chateau Gaillard, Les Andelys, France

Richard I was King of England for ten years, 1189-1199, but he was physically in England for only a few months during his reign.  The Crusades took up most of his time, from 1191-1195.  The final part of his reign was consumed with his pet brainchild, building a castle that could withstand any siege tactic imaginable.  This was the impetus for Chateau Gaillard, old French dialect for Strong Castle, near Les Andelys, France. 

During his years in the Middle East, Richard had experienced the Siege of Acre in 1191 and would have seen or heard about the castles being built by Crusader barons in Outremer, as Palestine was then known to Europeans.  Among the innovations known to Middle Easterners, including machicolations, or holes built in the parapet of a castle to allow boiling water or oil to be flung down on attackers.  Richard would also have seen European castles, such as Durnstein in Germany, that would've surpassed anything in England.  Though fortresses such as the Tower and Windsor Castle existed, castles built on a concentric motte-and-bailey plan were usually a mix of wood and stone, easily captured if one were lucky enough to set them on fire.  Richard wasn't about to let that happen to Chateau Gaillard.

Building began in 1297, to the tune of 12,000 pounds.  However, as usual with the Plantagenet family, Richard forgot to cover his bases with the French before starting his project.  In addition to being King of England, he was also Duke of Normandy, which he felt gave him all the authority in the world to build a castle to guard against French invasion of Normandy.  However, per the terms of the Treaty of Louviers, Richard and Phillip II of France had agreed to undertake no further castle building in the region.  As soon as Phillip II heard what Richard was up to, he had the Arcbishop of Rouen issue an interdict on Normandy.  Richard wasn't deterred and kept building.  His construction called for a central motte or keep, surrounded by three concentric walls, overlooking the Seine.  The three enclosures or baileys contained dry moats or ditches, further buttressing the castle's defense.  Despite the enormity of the project, it was completed in just 2 years, being finished in 1198, the year before Richard's death. 

When Richard died, Chateau Gaillard passed into the possession of King John, who didn't adequately garrison this or any other fortress against the French onslaught.  In 1202, Phillip Augustus laid siege to Chateau Gaillard.  It would take him two years to conquer the castle, in 1204.  This defeat, in particular, stung the pride of the England and there were numerous attempts to retake the castle and keep it during the decades of war that followed.  By 1314, however, Chateau Gaillard was firmly in French control and would serve as the final backdrop for another bit of family drama tangentially involving the Plantagenets.  Isabella of France, wife of Edward II, had no use for her three sisters-in-law at the French court, Jeanne, Margaret and Blanche of Burgundy, who had married French princes.  She started rumors that they were unfaithful to their respective husbands.  All three women were arrested.  Jeanne's husband stood by her, and she was ultimately released.  Margaret and Blanche each were confined to Chateau Gaillard, which by this time was beginning to decay.  Margaret would live only two years and Blanche eight years, each dying from the rigors of their imprisonment.

In 1333, a Plantagenet princess would find refuge at the Castle.  David II of Scotland, a child-king fleeing the English takeover of Scotland during the Second War of Independence, was offered Chateau Gaillard as a place to live, along with his tiny queen, Joan of the Tower, daughter of Edward II.  David would later return to Scotland to claim his rightful inheritance.  Henry V temporarily recaptured Chateau Gaillard in 1419, but in the ensuing years it was reclaimed by the French.  By 1599 it was a total wreck and Henry IV of France ordered portions of the structure pulled down to avoid collapsing and injuring local inhabitants.  Capuchin monks repurposed some of the stone.  Today, portions of the castle ruin are open to the public for tours at certain times the year.

 

What Are: Machicolations and Murder Holes

Warfare in Medieval times was rough.  Not only did soldiers have a range of slice and stabbing weapons, from swords and daggers to pikes and halberds, they also had more destructive weapons, including catapults and trebuchets, as well as fire, burning oil, pitch any other implement that came to mind, especially during sieges.  During a Medieval siege, with troops pressed against a castle's walls and clustered in tight areas such as gateways and sally ports, castle builders had to find effective defensive strategies.  Two of these, which are often confused, at machicolations and murder holes.

If one looks closely below the crenallated parapet atop a castle wall, one will see holes which would enable a defender to look down on, and fire down on, attackers clustered below.  These opening allowed attackers to pour water, oil or even sewage down on attackers, which would deter them from pressing the attack.  This innovation was began in the Middle East in the 12th century, but was soon brought to Europe, probably by returning crusaders.  One of the first commanders to order these openings in a newly-constructed castle was Richard the Lionheart with Chateau Galliard.  From there, they spread to other castles, though in England, machicolations were common in gatehouses, passageways and other vulnerable points in a castle's defense.

Machicolations are often confused with murder holes, which served a similar purpose.  During a siege, attackers could become tightly packed in a passageway, unable to move forward or quickly back out.  This would be the time to pour boiling water or flammable oil, or even fire a few arrows through holes in the ceiling of the passageway, in an effort to create pandemonium and force attackers back.  These holes are more commonly seen in England, in castles such as Bodiam Castle in Sussex, but also in fortified city walls. 

King: John of England, 1166-1216

There's one in every family, the obnoxious sibling or cousin who doesn't think they've gotten their fair share and tries to make everyone else feel it, too.  The Plantagenet family's biggest royal misfit, and thus one of history's much-maligned monarch is John.  Such is his reputation that, with few exceptions, English princes were named anything else and he has no regnal number because he is the first and the last.  Novels and movies haven't been too kind to him, either.  He's the anti-hero to his brother Richard and to Robin Hood, the tyrannical king who had to be forced by his barons to acknowledge their rights.  He's the perpetually jealous, conniving, whiny, not-too-bright kill-joy of the family with a talent for scheming and getting himself in real trouble, then having to scheme and connive his way out of the hole he dug. 

So, how much of this is deserved?  John, 1166-1216, was the youngest of Henry II and Eleanor's brood of eight.  He was born in Beaumont Palace, Oxford and almost from the time he was born, his parents were perplexed about what to do with him or for him.  Not long after he was born, Henry and Eleanor's marriage was on the rocks.  By 1173, when he was about 7, his older brothers would be in open revolt against their father and his mother would be a prisoner of her husband.  The issues were power and land.  Henry the Young King, John's oldest brother, had already been crowned junior king and was assured in his inheritance of England, Normandy, and the traditional Plantagenet patrimony of Anjou and Maine.  Richard, the warrior poet of the family, would get Eleanor's vast dominions of Aquitaine and Poitou, though he also wanted everything else and Young Henry would've been hard put to it to hold Richard off had Henry lived.  Meanwhile, Geoffrey had been married to a woman who was Duchess of Brittany in her own right, but he, too, hoped to end up with everything some day.  That left John. 

John loved to read and listen to music, but not to play it.  He enjoyed board games such as backgammon.  He liked to hunt and, as befitted a son of Henry II, he had some promise as a capable administrator and commander.  He was short, about 5'8", with red hair, though not ugly as sometimes portrayed.  He could be charming, but he could also given in to fits of rage.  It was this touchiness that kept others, including members of his own family, at arm's length.  John was shopped around to various heiresses, particular the heiress of the Duke of Savoy.  Nothing came of it.  After the rebellion of his brothers, John spent most of his time in Henry II's custody and was considered his father's favorite.  Henry arranged a marriage of John with an English heiress, Isabel of Gloucester, but forgot one important detail.  Both John and Isabel were descendants of Henry I, the last Norman king of England.  They were related and required Papal dispensation to marry.  Henry wasn't big on Church authority and Thomas Becket's replacement as Archbishop of Canterbury wasn't into being lenient.  He handed Henry and John the ultimate conundrum.  John could marry Isabel, but couldn't physically relate to her on pain of excommunication.  Not deterred in the least, John would go on to have plenty of off-the-record relationships and biological children and numerous descents.

But for the time being, he still had no land and no sure inheritance.  He was known as John Lackland even in his own lifetime and certainly felt the sting.  Henry II had John proclaimed Lord of Ireland in 1177 and wanted John to be crowned King of Ireland, but the Pope wasn't going for that, either.  John invaded Ireland in 1185 and tried to cobble together his own kingdom but without success.  Like the Romans centuries before, and the British ever since, he soon came to understand that conquering Ireland was an expensive and bloody undertaking.  Henry II died in 1189 and Richard became King of England.  He soon departed on Crusade in 1191 and John saw his chance.  Through Eleanor's urging, Richard had allowed John to return to England, but didn't give him any position during Richard's absence.  Richard's Justiciar, William Longchamp, became unpopular, leaving John to fill the void as an alternate ruler in his brother's absence.  He opened negotiations with Phillip II of France, hoping to receive aid in conquering at least Normandy and Anjou, if not England itself. 

Then, the unthinkable happened.  Richard showed up back in England and John had some explaining to do.  Richard stripped John of his few possession, except for Ireland, and sent him to the Continent.  There, he showed some skill keeping Phillip from invading Normandy.  Richard died in 1199, but John's way to the English throne was barred by Geoffrey's son, Arthur of Brittany.  Arthur made a feeble attempt to claim his inheritance, but was captured by John, and never seen alive again.  John was acclaimed King of England.  He had his marriage to Isabel of Gloucester annulled and married a French princess, Isabella of Angouleme.  The couple would have five children, including the future Henry III.  John was King of England, Duke of Normandy and Count of Anjou, but he would have a hard time hold on to all of it.  He decided to pay Phillip off by doing homage to him for the family lands in France, a move which earned him another disparaging nickname, John Soft-Sword. 

Relations between John and Phillip would continue to deteriorate to the point that, after two years of war, 1202-1204, John lost the Duchy of Normandy in its entirety.  Meanwhile, his barons were already becoming restless.  John believed that he ruled by divine right, with or without their support.  His policy of rule by force and divisiveness began to take its toll.  The barons believed they had the right to serve as the king's counselors.  John intended to rule on his own.  Although John kept the legal and administrative machinery his father had put in place, and proved a capable administrator on the local level, the powerful lords weren't satisfied.  Like all kings, John had to have money to finance his wars and his taxes made him increasingly unpopular with all levels of society.  His continued war with France didn't help in this regard.  John was responsible for beefing up England's land and sea defenses, which he continued to do, at the cost of more money.  A vicious cycle was developing.  He managed to keep Scotland and Wales at bay, and drew resources from Ireland to focus on France. 

Then, like his father before him, John got into a dispute with the Papacy.  Innocent III was one of the more powerful popes of the Medieval era, keen on consolidating the authority of the Church throughout Europe.  John was just as keen on royal authority within his domains.  He asserted the right to appoint bishops, including the next Archbishop of Canterbury, selecting men who would be beholden to him.  John refused the Pope's candidate, Stephen Langton and barred him from entering England to take up his duties.  Innocent put England under an interdict.  John responded by seizing the lands and arresting any clergy who refused to perform religious services.  By 1209, Innocent excommunicate John, who wasn't deterred in the slightest.  John continued to seize lands and appropriate any money due to the Church from England into his own coffers.  By 1213, with the situation deteriorating among his barons, John had to negotiate with the Pope, offering him feudal homage for England and Ireland. 

But the reversals just kept on.  He lost most of the family's vast French inheritance in 1214 at the Battle of Bouvines, including Normandy and Anjou.  The barons, fed up, were ready to revolt.  Fixated on retrieving the family patrimony in France, John agreed to the Magna Carta on June 15, 1215, but he had no intention of keeping his word.  The Charter guaranteed Church rights, protection from illegal imprisonment, access to justice, taxation only with baronial consent and limitation on feudal dues and duties.  It was soon apparent to the barons that the only means of securing these rights was open warfare, leading to the First Barons' War, 1215-1217.  Like his father before him, John would die on campaign, trying to stamp out a revolt.  He died of food poisoning at Newark Castle, Newark on Trent on October 19, 1216.  William Marshal, who remained one of his few supporters among the barons, was appointed protector for John's son, 9-year-old Henry.  John was buried in Worcester Cathedral, where his effigy still remains.   Isabella returned to the Continent, marrying Hugh of Lusignan and leaving Henry in Marshal's care.  Through Marshal's steady influence, the Barons' War would be brought to a close, for now.  John's five children lived to grow up and most had descendants of their own.  His biological daughter, Joan, married Llewellyn the Great of Wales.  Meanwhile, the pros and cons of John's reign, policies and personal qualities remain a matter of debate. 

The Coronation Chair

In 1296, Edward I had a valuable spoil of war from his conquest of Scotland and he needed a secure but visible place to keep it.  His forces had captured the Stone of Scone, also known as the Stone of Destiny, the ancient coronation stone of Scottish kings, and brought the stone to England.  For Edward, who hoped to see a united Britain under his rule, this was a rare propaganda opportunity and he had just the plan.  He commissioned a coronation chair for future English kings that would contain the stone.

The chair one sees today in Westminster Abbey is old and battered, only some gilding showing signs of its former glory.  However, in Edward's time, the wooden arm chair carved by one Walter of Durham was much more ornate.  The chair was originally gilded with gold leaf, and inset with glass mosaics as well as painted.  The outlines of foliage, birds and animals can be seen etched into the back and sides of the chair.  An image of a King, either Edward I or St. Edward the Confessor, is also outlined on the back.  Originally, the chair itself rested directly on the floor, but in the 16th century, carved lions were added to serve as feet.  The original lions were replaced and regilded in 1727.  One of the lions was replaced again in 1821 in preparation for George IV's coronation.  Further, the original design of the chair called for the monarch to sit directly on the exposed stone encased in the base of the chair.  A wooden seat was added in the 16th century.  Every English monarch, beginning with Edward II in 1307, would be crowned while sitting in this chair.  Only Mary II, ironically herself of Scottish descent as a Stuart, would have to use a replica chair to sit beside her husband, William III, also part-Stuart, to be crowned in 1689.

A chair so steeped in history and dedicated to England's patron saint should be off-limits to anyone else.  However, in the 18th century, when tourism in England was becoming more of a thing, anyone could sit in the chair by paying one of the Abbey vergers a small fee.  Tourists and choirboys carved their names and doodles on the chair, and some tourists whittled pieces of it to take home.  In June, 1914, Suffragists were able to pull off a bomb attack in the Abbey itself.  The explosion shook the Abbey walls and was heard as far away as Parliament.  It damaged a corner of the chair, but no one else was hurt.  The Chair was restored.  In one final indignity, on Christmas Day, 1950, Scottish Nationalists broke into the Abbey and stole the Stone of Scone.  It was later returned in time for Elizabeth II's coronation in 1953.  The stone itself was returned to Scotland in 1996, but with the proviso that it would be returned to the chair for future coronations.

The sovereign uses a series of thrones during the coronation, beginning with Chairs of Estate during the pre-crowning stage, then another throne in the transept of the Abbey for the homage of the royal family and peers of the realm.  These chairs are often made new for each coronation and later dispersed to various royal palaces.  St. Edward's Chair returns to its place in St. George's Chapel, which it has only left twice.  Once in 1653, when Oliver Cromwell was inducted as Lord Protector of England, and again during World War II, when the chair was kept at Gloucester Cathedral throughout the war.   

Rebel: Jack Cade, d 1450

During Medieval times, the government of the realm was tied to the person and abilities of the King.  When he was weak, law and order dissolved and rebellion sometimes followed.  During the reign of Henry VI, not only were other members of the royal family and nobility ready to take up arms, the common people were fed up as well.  By 1450, England had been involved for more than one hundred years in a ruinous war with France.  Squabbling within the two main branches of the royal family, York and Lancaster, led to infighting among the nobles.  The ones who paid the bill in taxes and oftentimes blood were the commoners. 

Enter Jack Cade.  Not much is known of Cade's life, or even if that was his real name.  He was born in between 1420-1430 somewhere in Sussex.  Why he took it upon himself to become the leader of a peasants' revolt isn't clear, but by 1450, he was calling himself Captain of Kent and rallying the men of Kent to his cause.  He also adopted the name John Mortimer.  Some have interpreted the Mortimer alias as a sign that Cade supported the Yorkist claim, since the Duke of York had Mortimer ancestry.  However, there is no evidence linking Richard of York and Cade in any form of alliance.  As his efforts gathered steam, Cade's followers began calling him John Amend-All.  Whether he encouraged this or not is unclear.  As the central government slipped further and further into infighting, common people believed that the King was surrounded by traitors who intended to sell the country out to France.  Since he was unable or unwilling to take hold of his own government, Henry should abdicate to someone else who would.

In the spring of 1450, Cade organized the creation of a manifesto entitled The Complaint of the Poor Commons of Kent.  The document reflected the grievance of common people, but also those of MP's, barons and other members of society at all levels.  There were 15 complaints and 5 demands.  Cade, who had gathered an army of 5,000 men in Kent, determined to take his complaints directly to London.  The Manifesto called on Henry to rid his court of barons who alleged guilty of treasonous actions, and singled out Lord Saye, among others.  Cade's army made it as far as Blackheath, 12 miles southeast of London.  The King sent a small contingent of armed men under Sir Humphrey and William Stafford, who were ambushed and killed on June 18, 1450.  The King fled to Warwickshire while Cade's men entered London.  Cade entered London on July 7 and declared himself Lord Mayor of London and began seeking out the men he believed responsible for the disorder in the royal government.  They soon found James Fiennes, Lord Saye and Sele.  He was brought to trial before an ad hoc court, found guilty of treason and executed at Cheapside along with his son-in-law. 

Though Cade attempted to exert some control over the behavior of his followers, their looting and destruction of property alienated the people of London.  When Cade returned to Southwark for the night, the citizens of London barricaded the bridge and prepared to fight.  The next day, a battle ensued between the rebels and the citizens of London.  It lasted into the next morning, with 40 Londoners and 200 rebels killed.  Lord Chancellor John Kemp attempted to quell the fighting by issuing pardons, which King Henry later revoked.  Henry had a bounty on Cade's head of 1,000 marks.  Cade fled toward Lewes but Alexander Iden, a future High Sheriff of Kent, had his eye on the prize.  He tracked Cade to Sussex and mortally wound him in a skirmish.  The body was tried in an impromptu treason trial and dragged back to London as an example to anyone else thinking of rebellion.  The body was later quartered and pieces sent to larger cities in Kent as an especial warning to the people of Kent to keep their heads down.  The Duke of Buckingham was sent on a punitive investigation into Canterbury, where 8 supposed rebels were found and hanged, then to Blackheath, Faversham and the Isle of Sheppey.  Cade's rebellion was over, but unrest continued to flicker throughout the realm.

Rival Dynasty: the Bruces of Scotland

A confusing aspect of the early Medieval period in Britain and Europe was that noble and royal families owned land and owed feudal loyalties in several different domains at once.  Just as the Plantagenet dynasty spread from Ireland to the Scottish border and throughout most of southern and western France, so other nobles held titles and land both on the Continent and in Britain, owing loyalty to the King of France, the King of England, the King of Scotland and, most of the time, to their own interests regardless of any of the above.  One of these problematic noble houses was the Bruces of Annandale. 

Like many noble families, the Bruces were Anglo-Norman.  The name de Brus came from a French place name Brix, near Cherbourg in France.  Though Robert Bruce is often called Robert the Bruce, with the etymology of the name having something to do with the color brown, that's a misconception.  So, too, is the idea that a Bruce ancestor served with William the Conqueror.  The first Bruce of Annandale appears in the historical record in 1106 as a supporter of the future King David I of Scotland.  However, when David later threw his supported behind Empress Matilda, the Bruce family was split, with the Lord of Annandale siding with King Stephen and capturing his own son, who was serving with David's contingent in support of Matilda.  His descendant, the 4th Lord of Annandale, later married into the royal family of Scotland, thus acquiring their claim to the Scottish throne.  When the last Dunkeld King of Scotland, Alexander III died without heirs, and his granddaughter Margaret died en route from Norway to try to claim the throne, both the Bruces of Annandale and the Balliol family claimed the throne instead.  Then, they both asked Edward I of England to arbitrate the dispute.

Edward settled matters by launching a full-scale invasion of Scotland.  Incidentally, the Plantagenets also had a Dunkeld claim, through Empress Matilda's mother, who'd been a princess of Scotland.  In Edward's mind, that was enough, if he even thought that far back.  John Balliol died and Robert Bruce swore fealty to Edward, then joined the revolt for Scottish Independence in 1297.  After the death of William Wallace, Bruce's rivalry with another Scottish lord, John Comyn, threatened to throw the Kingdom back into Edward's control again.  Robert Bruce killed John Comyn, braving excommunication for doing so, and was crowned at Scone in 1306.  He eventually led the Scots to victory at Bannockburn in 1314.  In 1329, Robert died and his son, David II, became King of Scotland.  David died without issue in 1371.  Meanwhile, Robert's daughter Marjorie had married Walter Stewart, her father's High Steward of Scotland, hence the name.  Their son became Robert II, the first Stewart King of Scotland.  Stewarts, and later Stuarts, would rule Scotland until 1603, when a Bruce, Plantagenet and Tudor descendant James VI of Scotland became James I of England. 

Medieval Life: Whitsuntide

Life for Medieval peasants wasn't all work and no play.  There were days off, Sundays and religious feasts and holidays.  They also had three full weeks each year where there was no work required of them on the lord's land.  One of those was Whitsuntide, the week following Pentecost.  Pentecost marked the commemoration of Jesus' pouring out the Holy Spirit on his disciples following his death, and was celebrated on the 7th Sunday, or roughly 49-50 days after Easter.  Because of the white vestments worn by the clergy during church services on this day, or the white robes of those getting baptized, it became known as White Sunday, or Whit Sunday or Whit.  The week following the Sunday was known as Whitsuntide, with an entire week off from agricultural work.

And everyone made the most of it.  Royalty and nobility hosted feasts, or elaborate religious pageants and morality plays.  Parishes and towns staged parades known as Whit Walks, sometimes led by young girls dressed in white in honor of the day.  Villages and towns held fairs or also staged plays and pageants.  Food and wine flowed to all who could afford it.  Whit Walks are still performed in some parishes to this day in honor of the Medieval tradition.  This year's Whitsunday would be June 4, 2017.

 

Places: Paul's Cross, London

In the centuries before telephones, television, cable news or social media, an important way of spreading needed messages to the public was at common meeting places, often in the open air.  One such was Paul's Cross, an outdoor cross and later pulpit located in the churchyard of Old St. Paul's Cathedral.  The practice of the folkmoot, an Anglo-Saxon tradition of calling a public assembly, usually to announce new laws or legal judgments, persisted into Plantagenet times.  One of these folkmoots was held in 1236, to announce to the people of London King Henry III's intention to govern in accordance with its liberties as a city.  Henry spent most of his reign in a turbulent power struggle with his barons, struggles which often saw London as a pawn amongst the various factions.  Assuring the people publicly of his good intentions was good PR on Henry's part.

The London citizenry gathered again in 1259, during de Montfort's first uprising, to swear allegiance to Henry in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury.  Later, at another folkmoot held at Paul's Cross, Londoners would be equally eager to swear allegiance to Simon de Montfort against the King.  Paul's Cross was often a venue for public announcement of judgments against offenders, and where men and women performed public penance, usually by standing near the pulpit clad only in a shirt or shift and bearing a lighted candle for a prescribed period of time.  In 1422, a chaplain who had pleaded guilty to sorcery was taken to Paul's Cross, where he might have expected to be burnt.  Instead, books of his that were alleged to be sorcerous in nature were burned and the man given a last minute reprieve.  Sermons against the Lollard movement, and the declaration of John Wycliffe as a posthumous heretic, took place at Paul's Cross.  Later, Elizabeth "Jane" Shore, former mistress of Edward IV, did penance at Paul's Cross for harlotry.

Paul's Cross continued to be an important public venue for announcements, sermons and even penance into Tudor times.  As the Reformation took hold, the open air pulpit was a popular place for Reform-leaning ministers to speak to the people.  Due to the contentious nature of the sermons, riots often took place at Paul's Cross.   During the Civil War, Puritan forces destroyed the cross and pulpit.  Later, Sir Christopher Wren reinvented St. Paul's Cathedral to its present form.  Today, a statue of St. Paul on a column stands near the Cathedral and a marker indicates the spot where the cross and pulpit stood.

What Is: a Papal Bull

In the Medieval world, there were two sources of authority, the secular under the King, Duke or other local lord, and the religious, in the form of the Church.  In many ways, the authority of the Church was more important.  While Kings and other overlords had control of the daily lives of their subjects, the Church controlled everyone's immortal soul.  Thus, when a Pope or his representatives, such as bishops or cardinals, spoke on matters of law, morals, or even political concerns, it carried a lot of weight.  The Pope issued his pronouncements in the form of a written document known as a Papal bull.

The word bull comes from the Latin bulla, and refers to a seal attached to a document.  Bullae served as a means of authenticating a document and tamper-proofing it, since the twine attaching the leaden seal was threaded through the bottom of the document itself.  A Papal Bull could deal with any subject, from pronouncements of Church doctrine, canonization of saints, excommunications and interdicts, appointment of bishops, or even the settling of disputes.  A bull usually began with a few key words, known as an incipit, which served as the title of the bull.  The seal showed Saints Peter and Paul on one side, one the other was the name of the Pope issuing the bull.  The cord attaching the lead seal to the document could be of hemp or, in certain cases, of silk.  Likewise, though the most common material for the seal was lead, it could in rare cases be cast of gold.  Incidentally, Popes weren't the only issuers of bulls.  Decrees of Byzantine emperors were also sealed in the same way, and called bulls, as were the decrees of some Holy Roman Emperors.

In-Law: William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk, 1396-1450

Being a noble in Medieval England wasn't meant to be a popularity contest.  On the other hand, it didn't pay to upset the wrong people.  William de la Pole, 1396-1450, 1st Duke of Suffolk and the husband of Alice Chaucer learned this the hard way. 

William was born at Cotton, Suffolk, the second son of the Earl of Suffolk through his wife, who had been born a Beauchamp.  Although his family's ancestry sounds noble enough, somewhere in the family tree had been a wool merchant from Hull.  His fellow nobles with more exalted lineage could've let that slide, but William was his own worst enemy.  Opinionated and obnoxious, overly greedy and at the center of several unlucky mistakes, he apparently never learned how to win friends and influence people.  His personal badge was a crude form of anchor known as a jackanapes or Jack of Naples.  It was a weight attached to a chain meant to keep pet monkeys or other exotic animals from escaping.  In the centuries since William's death, a jackanapes has come to mean an obnoxious, long-winded and overbearing person. 

William saw service during the Hundred Years War early in life.  He was wounded in 1415 during the Siege of Harfleur, where his father died of dysentery.  Later, William's older brother also died at Agincourt, also fought in 1415.  In short order, William was 4th Earl of Suffolk, but there was more to come.  He was the co-commander of the English forces at the Siege of Orleans in 1429, when he was forced to surrender the city, to Joan of Arc of all people!  He also surrendered the town of Jargeau, and remained a prisoner of war in France for 3 years.  Even after Joan was burnt at the stake, the French continued to make inroads on former Plantagenet real estate in France.  Suffolk returned to England in 1434 an in likely hero.  He had already married Alice Chaucer, granddaughter of Geoffrey in 1430, which made him a royal insider.  He was made Constable of Wallingford Castle and negotiated the marriage in 1444 of Henry VI to Margaret of Anjou.  This earned him the promotion to Marquess of Suffolk.   Little did anyone know but Margaret's marriage treaty secretly gave the provinces of Maine and Anjou back to France. 

With the deaths of Duke Humphrey of Gloucester in 1447 and Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk became the power behind the throne of the increasingly incompetent Henry VI.  He became Chamberlain to the King and later Lord High Admiral of England.  He was made Earl of Pembroke and ultimately Duke of Suffolk.  As the honors and accolades just kept coming, it was discovered that Suffolk was in secret talks with Jean, Count de Dunois, who had been Suffolk's captor in France.  Further investigation discovered the secret clauses in Margaret and Henry's marriage treaty, negotiated by Suffolk.  He also still owed Dunois for his ransom.  As French victories, particularly in Maine and Anjou continued to pile up, Suffolk was blamed and ultimately accused of treason.  He had powerful enemies, including John Paston and John Fastolf. 

In 1450 he was arrested and imprisoned in the Tower of London and impeached in the House of Commons.  Parliament demanded a trial for treason and a death sentence but Henry VI intervened and ordered exile instead.  Suffolk quickly found a ship for the last English toehold in France, Calais.  His enemies chartered another ship, Nicholas of the Tower, and gave chase.  Suffolk's vessel was forced to stop and the Duke was arrested, tried on board the Nicholas, and executed.  His headless body later washed ashore on the English side.  Alice buried her husband at the Carthusian Priory at Hull and scrambled to hold onto as much of William's estates for her son John as she could.  The most expedient way to do that was to marry him as close to royalty as possible.  His first wife was Lady Margaret Beaufort, great-granddaughter of John of Gaunt.  After that marriage was annulled, John's second marriage was to Elizabeth of York, a sister of Edward IV and aunt of Queen Elizabeth of York.  It is from John and Elizabeth that the de la Pole family, rivals of the Tudors, descend.

Legal: The Statute of Treasons of 1351

One of the worst offenses imaginable in Medieval life was treason against the king, or against one's overlord in the feudal system.  Under English common law, this crime could encompass doing almost anything the King or Lord didn't like from outright rebellion to poaching or stealing.  For this reason, the Parliament under Edward III in 1351 saw fit to codify exactly what was and wasn't treason.

They classified two levels of treason.  High treason was offenses against the King, including encompassing (planning or imagining) the death of the King or his son and heir, sexual relations with a companion (mistress of the King), though not necessarily his wife, though seducing the King's unmarried eldest daughter or the wife of his son was also treason.  Waging war against the King in his realm or aiding his enemies, counterfeiting the Great Seal or the royal coinage, or killing one of the King's Great Officers, such as the Chancellor, the Treasurer or the like was also treason.  The law also defined petty (petit) treason, such as the murder of one's lawful superior, an underling killing his lord, or a wife her husband.  The law also contained a catch-all provision for future offenses which the monarch could deem treasonous, such as heresy.  Portions of this law are still in effect today.

Medieval Life: Children's Play

With all the preteen brides and teenage boys dying in battle or under mysterious circumstances in towers, it might seem that childhood in the Middle Ages was non-existent and certainly not pleasant.  Kids will be kids and children did find ways to act up, play and have fun. 

Childhood was a precarious time.  Death in infancy or from a routine childhood disease or accident was all too common.  Under both canon (church) and common (secular) law, childhood ended at about 12 for girls or 14 for boys, which could roughly coincide with the onset of puberty.  At that point, children, though young, were considered old enough to be held accountable for their actions.  Thus, childhood during this time period was short.  However, there was the idea that play during childhood was necessary for children to learn the roles they would step into as adults.  Boys began practicing with toy swords and bows until they were strong enough to work with scaled down models of real weapons.  Girls did play with crude dolls, carved or stuffed with straw and scraps. 

But there were other games, as well.  Tag, blindman's bluff, hide and seek and prisoner's base were known during the Middle Ages.  Children could play with balls made of leather, animal bladder or other material, tossing, kicking or hitting with sticks.  Chasing a hoop with a stick was another past-time.  Marbles were made of clay instead of colored glass, which would have been too expensive.  There was also knucklebones, played similarly to marbles with small pieces of bone, wood or clay.  Jacks was another common game.  Puppet shows, the forerunner of Punch and Judy, were also common.  If nothing else, mud puddles were fun to splash in.  By the time Peter Bruegel the Elder painted his famous work, Children's Games, some of these pastimes were as old as time.

What Is: a Yeoman

A yeoman offers a tale in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and he is generally depicted as wearing a green jerkin and carrying a bow.  Over the centuries, the word yeoman carried many meanings even as the men who were call yeoman had varying functions. 

The word yeoman is probably a corruption of young man.  The first mention of yeoman was as attendants in a royal or noble household.  These men were known as Yeomen of the Crown and performed a wide variety of functions, from soldiers and bodyguards to personal attendants.  Such usage survives today as in Yeoman of the Guard or Yeoman Warders.  Being in royal service held many perks.  One of which might be the reward of land for service performed.  Yeoman were thus men who held their own small parcels of land.  They ranked below landed gentry but above husbandmen or petty farmers.  They could serve on juries or hold minor royal posts such as bailiffs or constables.  They also performed service in the army, ranking below knights and squires and above knaves or common peasants.  Because they owned their own land, they were required to possess a long bow and spend time practice with it.  Yeoman were known as proficient archers, hence the common depiction of a yeoman as being an archer.  The original Yeoman of the Guard were archers.  Later, bands of yeoman formed to defend larger cities and towns, such as the City of London Yeomanry. 

Later, in the 17th century, with the rise of navies, a yeoman was a petty officer in charge of supplies and later became an early form of ship's steward, taking care of duties in the mess or serving as a ranking officer's personal assistant, a theme carried over by the yeomen in Star Trek.   

Queen: Isabella of Angouleme, 1188-1246

The women who married into the Plantagenet family could be just as turbulent as the men.  Isabella of Angouleme, 1188-1246, wife of King John and Countess of Angouleme in her own right, was a echo of John's own mother, Eleanor, and in many ways their lives were very similar.

Isabella was the daughter of Aymer, Count of Angouleme.  Through her mother, she was a descendant of King Louis VI of France.  John had been married to another Isabel, Countess of Gloucester, but the marriage had been less than successful.  After he became King in 1199, he had the marriage to Isabel annulled and sought an alliance with Aymer of Angouleme.  John and Isabella were married in 1200 and she became Queen of England.  He had neglected to seek the permission of Isabella's overlord, Phillip II of France, who confiscated her lands and declared war on England.  When her father died in 1202, Isabella became Countess of Angouleme in her own right.  She was only 12 years old, but her temper and will power were John's match.  Theirs was a passionate relationship from the start and it stayed that way through the birth of 5 children, all of whom lived to grow up.  Isabella was the mother of a Plantagenet lion, King Henry III.  Because of her foreign birth and tempestuous nature, she was disliked by her English subjects.  Constant war with France didn't endear them to her any more than John's high-handed ways made him popular with his barons.

John died in 1216 and Isabella arranged that 9 year old Henry be crowned.  The crown of England had recently been lost, so Isabella loaned her young son her own coronet instead.  A year later, she left Henry in charge of William Marshal, 1st Earl of Pembroke, and returned to rule Angouleme.  By 1220, she was married to Hugh X of Lusignan.  Orignally, her daughter Joan was to marry Hugh, but Isabella decided to keep him for herself.  Joan eventually became Queen of Scotland, so she probably got the better bargain.  Henry's council was furious that Isabella hadn't sought permission to remarry and confiscated her lands in England.  She and Hugh held onto Joan, not permitting her to return to England or Scotland until Isabella's lands were handed back.  Henry knew his mother and that it would be better to settle with her rather than battle her.

Isabella and Hugh had 9 children, giving Isabella a grand total of 14 children in all, most of whom survived and had kids of their own.  Though she ranked as a Queen Dowager in England, in France she was accorded only the rank of her husband, the Count of La Marche, and had to give precedence to other women when at the French court.  This rankled, as did the attitude of King Louis IX's mother Blanche, who snubbed Isabella whenever the two met at court.  She and Hugh attempted to enlist Henry's support for an invasion of Normandy and ultimately French territory, but Hugh got cold feet and backed out of the deal.  The conspiracy collapsed.  Rumors circulated that Isabella had plotted to have Louis poisoned but there is no proof of this.  In 1246, she retired to Fontevrault Abbey.  This was a common custom among noble women at the time, even while their husbands were still alive.  She died later that year, and was ultimately buried beside Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry II and Richard I.  Her gisant survived the French Revolution, though her bones were scattered and destroyed during that time.

Royal: Joan, Lady of Wales, C 1191-1237

The idea that being an illegitimate child was a shameful thing comes from the Victorian era.  For centuries, out-of-wedlock children, if acknowledged by their parents and properly provided for, could attain a respectable station in life.  For royal or noble children, that could lead to a decent marriage and some income if one were lucky, which many of such children were.  Blood was blood, and the Plantagenets did look after their own.

While the future King John was still John Lackland, the problematic younger brother of King Richard the Lionhearted, he indulged in a few extra-marital relationships.  That's what royal and noble men did, but it also may have had to do with the fact that, although John was married to an heiress in her own right, Isabel, Countess of Gloucester, he was forbidden by the Church to treat her as his wife due to the fact that they'd married without papal consent.  One of John's relationships with was a woman named Clemence and around about 1191 it produced a daughter named Joan.  Two years later, John was King of England, Isabel was a divorced woman, John was in negotiations to marry Isabella of Angouleme and his daughter Joan would have a part to play in her father's continuing quest to spread Plantagenet rule to the rest of the Isle of Britain. 

Wales was a pain in the side of the early Plantagenet kings until Edward I finally ended the native Welsh governance forever.  The Welsh, like many Celtic cultures, were not a centralized kingdom, but a collection of local chiefdoms constantly warring with one another.  Those wars sometimes spilled over into English territory, the Welsh Marches, which were a lawless and often violent place.  John was having enough trouble reconciling his barons to his rule and holding onto the family's French domains as well as keeping Scotland at bay.  He didn't have time to deal with Wales, too.  It was much more expedient to unite the Plantagenets with the most predominant of the Welsh chiefdoms. 

Enter Joan, who up to this point had spent her life in Normandy, where she was probably born.  What her mother's origins were, if any, aren't known, but she had to be prepared for her future role in life.  In 1203, John had her brought to England in preparation for her marriage to Prince Llewellyn ab Iowerth, known to history as Llewellyn the Great.  He had managed to concur much of North Wales and was the first to use the style Prince of Wales.  He and Joan, all of about 13 years old, which was old enough in those day to be married and start to perform the duties and obligations of a wife.  The couple had two children, Ellen ferch Llewellyn and Dafydd ap Lewellyn.  Some of Llewellyn's other known children may also have been Joan's but the records are murky.  All of the girls who survived, whether Joan's or not, married English noblemen and Joan, through Jaquetta of Luxembourg, a distant granddaughter, is another ancestress of the present royal family. 

The details of Joan's life are sketchy.  In 1226, she obtained a papal decree of legitimization.  This acknowledged her parentage as being John and Clemence, but without giving her a claim to the English throne.  Then, in 1230, she was discovered with an English knight, one Walter de Braose, in her bedchamber in circumstances suggesting that the two of them had been otherwise engaged.  Llewellyn was furious and had de Braose hanged.  Joan was placed under house arrest, but later her husband forgave her and restored her to favor.  In 1237 she died, and Llewellyn had a Franciscan priory built in her honor at Llanfaes. 

This priory survived until the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII, when it was demolished and the monks disbanded.  Joan's ruined tomb and empty tomb survived a horse trough.  A headstone purporting to be Joan's was later taken to St. Nicholas and St. Mary's parish church in Beaumaris, Anglesey, with a plaque identifying it as Joan's headstone, but on another tomb.  Probably, it's the tomb of a later Plantagenet descendant, Eleanor de Montfort.

What Are: Trenchers and Sops

From movies with a medieval setting or renaissance fairs and reenactments we get the idea that people in the Middle Ages had absolutely no table manners at all.  They wolfed down meat off the bone, stuffed food in their mouths with both hands, and swashed it all down with copious amounts of wine or beer, throwing bones and leftovers onto the rushes to be consumed or not by the dogs. 

Well, not quite. 

A Medieval place setting consisted of a thick slice of coarse, whole grained bread often made for the purpose and sometimes hollowed out like a bread bowl.  This was known as a trencher.  Individual portions of food would be spooned or speared from a serving dish and laid in this trencher, with sauces poured on top.  Each diner had a knife to cut their meat and a spoon to dip up sauces or soups and stews, along with a cup or a goblet-style drinking vessel.  Salt was the most common spice and came from a receptacle known as a salt cellar, which set at a specific place or places on the table.  A more elaborate salt cellar would be on the dais or top table where the royal or noble family ate, lesser containers on the other tables in the hall.  Diners sat at the table according to their rank, with lower status servants sitting furthest away from the top table and thus "below the salt". 

Diners did eat with their fingers, forks only being used as serving utensils where they were used at all.  But there was an etiquette to this.  A diner used only the fingers of a one hand to reach the serving platter.  Anyone who used the same hand to access the serving platter and put items in their mouths risked stares, glares or even a telling off.  Napkins were available to most diners, who were expected to use them, and sometimes a bowl with water to at least wash the fingers.  Cramming one's mouth full, belching, flatulence, picking one's teeth with one's fingers or other gross behavior was just as frowned upon then as it was now.  Pulling bones or pieces of food out of one's mouth without some attempt to conceal it with the napkin was considered boorish. 

Bread came in many varieties.  A finer grind of wheat flower made manchet loaves, smaller round loaves of bread eaten with a meal.  There was also coarse brown bread that could be broken into chunks and used to sop up soups, sauces and gravies, hence the name for this food, a sop.  Diners accessed food according to their station in the household, with the royals or nobles having the most dishes or courses of food, and others lower down the social ladder receiving fewer portions.  For the poorest, sops might be a substantial part of the meal, thus the idea of tossing someone a sop, as in doing something to pacify or shut someone up without really addressing their need.

Dogs might be present in the hall, but there were other uses for the leftover trenchers.  Diners could eat a portion of the bread to get the rest of the sauce or finish off their stew, if they were so inclined.  Or, the trenchers and excess sops along with leftover scraps could be given to the poor in lieu of monetary alms, not necessarily tossed to the dogs.  Tossing bones over one's shoulder to the dogs, a la Charles Laughton's caricatures of Henry VIII was also not done, either.  Nor was leaving bones in the serving dish.  Bones would be left in the trenchers to be gathered up by the servants whose job it was to clean the hall after the meal was over.  Dogs were given their own sops, porridge, gruel or other food, but not in the main hall. 

Royal: Beatrice of England, Countess of Richmond, 1242-1275

Marriage among royal and noble families was a constant game of pregnancy roulette.  Each baby who lived to grow up was a potential heir to the throne, or a useful political alliance.  Many children didn't make it, which meant that the lucky ones who did had to take on adult responsibilities early, usually in the form of marriage to an aligned royal house.  The children of Henry III of England and Eleanor of Provence were no exception.  Eleanor and Henry had 9 children, of whom four died in infancy.  The others, including the future Edward I, his sister Margaret, Queen of Scotland, and their brother, Edmund of Lancaster, had to take the Plantagenet dynasty one more generation forward.

Beatrice was born in the family territory of Bordeaux, France.  She is sometimes known as Beatrice of Dreux, based on the town of her birth.  Her father's early reign was marked by continuous struggles with his barons and the loss of much of the Plantagenet patrimony in France.  Complicating the situation was his wife Eleanor's unpopularity with the English people.  On one occasion, Eleanor's barge on the River Thames was attacked by a mob of angry Londoners.  This, combined with the deaths of so many other siblings would have brought tragedy into her daughter Beatrice's life at a young age.  Henry negotiated her marriage with several royal houses, included the Kings of France and Norway, but none of these engagements panned out.  Instead, when she was 18, Beatrice married John, the heir to the Duke of Brittany.  It became a love match, as both partners developed a love and respect for each other.  But it was also a critical alliance for Beatrice's family.  Her father made John and Beatrice Earl and Countess of Richmond on her marriage, a title that would pass on to her second son.

The couple had six children.  Like many women of the era, Beatrice died young.  Grief-stricken, John of Brittany erected a chantry chapel in his wife's honor.  Beatrice was buried in the Greyfriars Church in Greenwich.  Her eldest son Arthur succeeded his father as Duke of Brittany.  Her second son, John, became Earl of Richmond.  Through her great-granddaughter, Jaquetta of Luxembourg, she is an ancestress of the Tudors, Stuarts and subsequent English monarchs.

 

Did It Happen: "Will No One Rid Me of This Troublesome Priest"

In the Senate Intelligence Committee hearing occurring today, former FBI Director James Comey quoted a line supposedly uttered by King Henry II regarding Thomas Becket, "will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"  This line is often used in circumstances where a subordinate (knights/Comey) interprets a remark by a superior (Trump/Henry II) as a command or mandate to take some action (kill Becket/terminate an investigation).  So, did Henry II really say this, and was it intended as a mandate to kill his Archbishop of Canterbury?

First, the setting.  Henry II and Thomas Becket are often portrayed as friends, for example in the 1964 movie Becket, with Peter O'Toole (Henry) and Richard Burton (Becket).  In reality, their association was purely professional.  Becket began his career in the service of his predecessor, Theobald of Bec, who may have been a relative.  It was Theobald who introduced Becket to royal service, where he became Henry II's Lord Chancellor.  Although Becket was a cleric, he'd been a loyal and professional civil servant for years and Henry may have thought his loyalty would always run to the king.  Henry had fought long and hard to consolidate his power in England, and that included his rights vis-à-vis the church.  He would have believed that loyalty of any of his close servants should be to him and not to the Pope, God or anything else.  When Becket became Archbishop of Canterbury in 1162, his priorities suddenly changed.  He was loyal to the Church and to his prerogatives as Archbishop first, foremost and almost to the exclusion of the King.  Henry, both as a man with his own ego and as a ruler, would've found this change baffling, irritating and probably a little threatening.

The situation broiled between the two men for years as Henry sought more control over the English church, asserting that clergy who were guilty of crimes should be tried and punished through secular courts, and that bishops and other clergy should be appointed by him, and swear allegiance to him, and Becket digging in his heels all the way.  It didn't help that foreign powers became involved when Becket fled to France for asylum.  King Louis VII of France saw another opportunity to make trouble for his continuous rival, Henry by backing Becket.  Eventually, the Pope stepped in, Becket agreed to Henry's demands, codified in the Constitutions of Clarendon, and Henry agreed to modify his stance to allow priests to be tried in ecclesiastical courts and for bishops and others to be appointed through the Church but subject to approval of the Crown.

So far so good, except that Becket formally refused to swear to the Constitutions of Clarendon.  Henry tried to flex his muscle by having his young son, Henry, Jr., crowned King but pointedly did not ask Becket to do the honors or invite him to the ceremony.  Becket later excommunicated all the clergy who participated in the ceremony, declaring the crowning invalid.  Hearing of the excommunications, Henry's Plantagenet temper boiled over.  He mouthed off about Becket, but exactly what he said remains unclear.  The most simple version is the one Comey quoted, "will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"  However, there's another idea of what he said, one that would've smarted in the ears of any young knight looking to curry favor with his king.  "What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and brought up in my household, who let their lord be treated with contempt by a low-born clerk!" 

Whatever Henry said, four knights took him up on it.  Reginald FitzUrse, Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, and Richard le Breton set out for Canterbury and confronted the Archbishop.  Arriving at Canterbury, they put their swords under a tree, concealed their mail coats under their cloaks and confronted Becket as he was on his way to celebrate Mass, demanding that he return with them to Winchester and explain his actions to the King.  Becket refused and continued on his way into the Cathedral to start the Mass.  The four men retrieved their weapons and surrounded Becket near the entrance to the Cathedral crypt as the monks began Vespers.  They proceeded to bludgeon and stab the Archbishop multiple times until he died, making sure that each knight got in a death blow to seal their mutual guilt.  They then fled to Knaresborough Castle, the ancestral home of Hugh de Morville and remained there for a year.  Henry did not arrest them, but did not reward them, either.

Pope Alexander excommunicated all four men, who were forced to serve years on Crusade in the Holy Land before being absolved.  Meanwhile, Henry II had the Pope, his fellow rulers and even the people of his various domains to answer to.  The Pope excommunicated Henry and placed his lands under an interdict.  This caused serious problems in Normandy, where Louis VII of France promptly invaded.  Nobody in the Medieval era took an interdict lightly, since it meant that no baptisms, weddings, funerals or any other church services could be held, putting everyone's soul in jeopardy. 

Henry argued that he'd never ordered anyone to kill Becket, and the four knights were just presumptuous men who thought they knew his will.  By not arresting them, however, many people then and now took that as tacit evidence of some guilt on his part.  Henry had to vow to go on Crusade and do public penance at Canterbury, where a shrine to Thomas Becket was rapidly in the works, before being reinstated to communion. 

Every since that time, the quote about being rid of a troublesome priest has been a handy label for situations where a word spoken in the height of a situation has caused others to act.