Showing posts with label Henri de Champagne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henri de Champagne. Show all posts

Thursday, December 29, 2016

The Short Reign and Tragic End of Henry of Champagne





As the consort of Queen Isabella of Jerusalem from May 1192 until September 1197, Henry of Champagne was recognized by the High Court of Jerusalem and by all his contemporaries, domestic and foreign, as the rightful King of Jerusalem ― yet he preferred to call himself the Count of Champagne to the day he died. We can only speculate on whether that preference sprang from humility or a failure to identify with his adopted kingdom. Certainly, Henry of Champagne came to the throne unexpectedly and with little preparation, and had he lived longer, he might well have come to feel more comfortable in his role as King of Jerusalem. But his life was cut tragically short in an accident at the age of 31.

His reign started auspiciously. His first act as King of Jerusalem appears to have been to persuade his uncle the King of England to remain through the campaign season rather than depart for England at once. As a result, the crusading army was kept together long enough for a second (albeit equally unsuccessful) attempt on Jerusalem. 

Richard of England then set his mind to regaining the coast between Tyre and Tripoli, a clear means of strengthening Henri’s new kingdom, but Saladin’s sudden assault on Jaffa forestalled him. Richard immediately took a handful of knights in a few ships and set off for Jaffa to stiffen the defense long enough for relief to come by land.  



Henri meanwhile mustered the Army of Jerusalem and started down the coast to relieve Jaffa. When the army found its advance blocked just south of Caesarea by Saladin’s forces, however, Henri followed his uncle’s example and took ship with just a few men for Jaffa ― abandoning his army. It was not a particularly regal or strategic thing to do, but Henri appears to have gotten away with it. The relief of Jaffa was eventually successful, and his ignominious behavior at Caesarea was forgotten.


A month later, a truce had been signed with Saladin lasting three years and eight months or until April 1196. Richard Plantagenet was free to return to his besieged inheritance in the West, taking with him not only the bulk of the crusaders but the enormous shadow he had cast over Henri. Henri was at last in a position to show his merit as a king.

Unfortunately, Henry stumbled at once. Almost immediately after Richard’s departure, the Pisans started attacking shipping going to Acre. Whether this was state-piracy or instigated by the still-embittered deposed-King Guy de Lusignan is not clear. In any case, Henri blamed the Pisan Commune in Acre of abetting their countrymen, and when Aimery de Lusignan, the  older brother of Guy, defended the Pisans, Henri saw a Lusignan plot against him. He ordered Aimery de Lusignan arrested for treason. 


This only had the effect of angering Henri’s vassals and the Masters of both the Knights Templar and the Knights of St. John. Aimery de Lusignan, unlike his younger brother Guy, had been in the Holy land for nearly two decades by this point and he enjoyed the respect of his peers. He had been appointed Constable of the Kingdom by Baldwin IV, long before the catastrophe of Hattin.  Furthermore, and most important, the King of Jerusalem did not have the right to arrest the Constable ― only the High Court did.  Henri was forced to back down, but Aimery (not surprisingly) did not want to remain in a Kingdom ruled by a man who had arrested him unjustly. He surrendered the office of Constable and went to join his brother on Cyprus.

Henry’s next known act is considerably more to his credit. Sometime during the truce with Saladin ca. 1195, King Leo of Armenia seized Prince Bohemond of Antioch during a state visit in revenge for a similar incident years earlier. He demanded the surrender of Antioch to Armenia. Prince Bohemond ordered the surrender (to secure his own release), but the citizens of the city led by his own sons and the patriarch refused to follow his orders. Instead they sent to Henry of Champagne to negotiate the release of the Prince of Antioch on more reasonable terms. Henri appears to have carried out this diplomatic mission successfully, arranging that an Armenian princess marry Bohemond’s heir. 



On his return trip, Henri traveled via Cyprus, where Aimery de Lusignan had not only succeeded his brother as lord of the island but persuaded the Holy Roman Emperor to make him a King. Meeting now as equals, the two men were reconciled, and to symbolize their new friendship (and secure the future of their houses) they agreed that Aimery’s three sons should be betrothed to Henri’s three daughters by Isabella of Jerusalem. 

Henri then returned to his own Kingdom as the truce with the Saracens drew to a close.  Saladin had meanwhile died and his brother al-Adil had successfully eliminated Saladin’s eldest and second sons to seize power for himself in Damascus and Cairo. As the truce ended, he took a large force to attack Acre, evidently seeking to bolster his popularity and support by delivering a victory against the Franks. 

Champagne went out to meet al-Adil with a force composed primarily of German crusaders, who had since arrived in the Holy Land in anticipation of the end of the truce, and the knights and barons of Jerusalem. These proved insufficient to defeat the threat, and Champagne had to call up the commons as well, who then managed to thwart the invasion and send al-Adil back across the border. Little is really known about this engagement, but the Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre gives the entire credit for this victory to a local baron, Hugh of Tiberius, with Champagne simply taking advice. While implausible as written, the account may be indicative of a general feeling among the local barons that Champagne was not a terribly effective battle commander, certainly not comparable to his famous uncle Richard the Lionheart.

 
His death, however, may have contributed to this retroactive assessment of him. On September 10, 1197 Henry of Champagne accidentally fell from a window into a courtyard of the royal palace at Acre and broke his neck. There was no question of foul play. One version says he stepped backwards into the window and lost his balance. Another says he leaned out of the window and the railing gave way. Apparently his jester, a dwarf, either tried to stop him and also lost his balance, or flung himself after him in grief. Either way he allegedly landed on top of Champagne, ensuring his injury was fatal. 

Henry of Champagne left behind three young daughters, the eldest of which died young, and the second of which, Alice, became Queen of Cyprus in accordance with the agreement he had made with Aimery de Lusignan. 

He also left behind an ugly law-suit. Since he had never returned from the Holy Land, his brother Theobold laid claim to the County of Champagne and his sons after him, but Henri’s surviving daughters, Alice and Philippa, challenged their cousins claim. They argued that as the daughters of the elder son (Henry) they were the rightful heirs to Champagne. In an effort to negate Alice and Philippa’s (very valid) claim, Theobold’s son attempted to argue that Henry’s marriage to Isabella had been bigamous, thereby making his cousins Alice and Philippa illegitimate. The reasoning was that Isabella’s divorce from her first husband Humphrey de Toron had been bogus and so she was still married to him (since he was still alive) at the time of her marriage to Henry. This claim was spurious and never accepted by the courts, but it colored the chronicles (all written in France).  As a result, this court case has left lasting legacy of distorted historiography, which casts Isabella’s divorce from Toron is a lurid light and makes villains of all who supported it -- from Henry himself to Isabella's  mother, Maria Comnena, and her step-father Balian d'Ibelin.




Henry de Champagne is a significant character in “Envoy of Jerusalem,” where his relationship to Isabella is developed and examined.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Ardent Crusader and Relucant King: Henri de Champagne



Henri of Champagne was one of the most ardent French crusaders to join the Third Crusade. His eagerness to take part in the crusade brought him to the Holy Land well ahead of either of his uncles, the Kings of France and England respectively. Despite his youth, his royal connections assured him a prominent role. Just how prominent, he never dreamed.
  

Henri was born in the County of Champagne on July 29, 1166. He was the eldest son of the Count of Champagne and his wife, Princess Marie of France. Marie was the daughter of King Louis VII of France by his first wife, Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine. His father's sister Adela followed Eleanor as wife of Louis VII and became Queen of France, while his younger brother Theobald married Eleanor of Aquitaine and Louis VII’s other daughter Alix. In short, young Henri was very "well connected" to the French royal house, and through his grandmother to the Plantagenets as well.


In 1181, his father died and Henri became titular Count of Champagne, but his mother retained control of the County until he turned 21 in 1187.  Hardly had he assumed his inheritance than word reached France that Jerusalem had fallen to the Saracens after the disastrous battle at Hattin. Almost immediately, Henri’s maternal uncle, Richard Count of Poitou (later King of England) took the cross, vowing to restore Jerusalem to Christian rule. He was followed by a wave of other knights and nobles, including (reluctantly) Henri’s paternal uncle, Philip II of France.  Henri was not left cold by this crusading fever. Indeed, he appears to have been one of the most fervent crusaders of the entire campaign, incurring huge debts to finance a large contingent of knights and men-at-arms, paying for their transport, and setting out for the Holy Land more than a year before either of his uncles.





Before departing, however, the young, unmarried count made careful provisions for his inheritance. He designated his mother as his regent and his still underage younger brother Theobald as his heir. His vassals duly swore to recognize Theobald as Count of Champagne, if Henri failed to return from the crusade. This was a wise precaution as an estimated one third of all noble crusaders were either killed outright or fell victim to disease and illness while on crusade. What no one envisaged at this time was that Henri might “fail to return” without actually being dead….


Henri arrived in the Holy Land in the summer of 1190 and at once joined the Frankish siege of the Saracen-held city of Acre. His close ties to the French royal house immediately made him a leading commander, despite his youth (he was just 24) and inexperience. Henri was also related to Conrad de Montferrat, and ― anticipating his uncle Philip II ― gave his support to Montferrat in his rivalry with the discredited Guy de Lusignan (the architect of Frankish defeat at Hattin). According to some accounts, he played a role in securing Isabella of Jerusalem’s divorce from Humphrey of Toron thereby  paving the way for her marriage to Conrad de Montferrat. Arab sources record that he was wounded in November 1190 during one of the many skirmishes during the siege of Acre.



After the arrival of his uncles, the kings of France and England, Henri initially managed to retain the favor of both, but he appears to have been genuinely outraged (as were most of the French nobles) by Philip II of France’s abrupt departure after the fall of Acre in July 1191. Henri remained in the Holy Land, true to his crusading vow, and when he ran low on funds to pay his troops, he turned to his uncle, the King of England. Richard readily advanced him sufficient funds to retain his contingent in the field, and thereby secured the gratitude and loyalty of the Count of Champagne. 


In April 1192, Richard I of England received news that his brother John had allied himself with the Philip II of France and that they were attempting to take his inheritance from him. Recognizing he could not remain much longer in the Holy Land, Richard asked the barons of Jerusalem to select between the rivals, Guy de Lusignan and Conrad de Montferrat, their king. The High Court of Jerusalem chose Conrad de Montferrat, and the King of England bowed to their will. Richard chose his nephew Henri to go to Tyre to assure Conrad that he, Richard Plantagenet, had at last abandoned his protégé Lusignan and was willing to recognize Conrad as King of Jerusalem.


The message delivered, Henri began the journey back to rejoin the crusading army at Ascalon. He had only got as far as Acre, however,  when the news overtook him that Conrad had been stabbed to death by two assassins. Henri at once returned to Tyre, probably to verify a story that seemed incredible under the circumstances. In Tyre, Henri discovered that the news was correct: Conrad de Montferrat had been stabbed to death, the newly elected King of Jerusalem was dead.


One version of what happened next has captured the popular imagination and been repeated uncritically in almost every history and novel ever since. This account claims that on the arrival of Henri in Tyre “the people” welcomed him with jubilation and proclaimed him king. This is utter nonsense. Kings were not elected by “popular acclaim” in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. The High Court, composed of the most important barons and bishops of the realm, did. The Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre, which is based in large part on a lost chronicle written in Outremer (rather than the West), explicitly states that “on the advice of the barons of the Kingdom of Jerusalem,” Richard nominated his nephew Henri de Champagne as the next king. 




We can only speculate on the exact course of events by trying to reconcile the two divergent but parallel accounts. First, it is obvious that the barons of Jerusalem were in an extremely difficult situation. They refused to follow Guy de Lusignan, Richard of England was preparing to depart, and their chosen king was dead. The queen through whom the crown was derived, however, was still alive, albeit a pregnant widow. Thus it was imperative to marry her to nobleman capable of defending the kingdom in its perilous state. Looking around for a suitable candidate, the eyes of those barons who had traveled to Tyre with the news of Conrad’s election would have fallen on Henri de Champagne. There is no way of knowing if they would have chosen someone else if he had not been so conveniently on the scene, but as the nephew to the kings of England and France he was certainly a diplomatic choice. He had also been campaigning in Holy Land for more than 18 months at this point; apparently he had won sufficient respect, despite his youth, to appear a viable candidate from a military point of view as well.


Either the barons took their suggestion first to Richard of England, or (as the Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi suggests) they approached Henri directly and he deferred to his uncle. Either way, medieval chronicles agree that Henri de Champagne was initially reluctant to accept the crown. It had clearly come to him completely unexpectedly, and acceptance meant he would not be able to return to his home. The Kingdom itself existed more in people’s hearts and minds than in reality. It was threatened on all sides by the armies of Saladin. The crusading force that had managed to regain the coastline was already disintegrating (the French refused to take orders from the King of England and the King of England had already announced his intention to return home.) Worst of all, however, the throne of Jerusalem came with a serious catch: Henri could only become King of Jerusalem if he married Queen Isabella, Conrad’s widow. What was more: she was already pregnant by Conrad; if she bore a son, Henri would eventually have to surrender his crown to Conrad’s posthumous son rather than see his own offspring on the throne. It did not sound like a very good proposition to the young Count of Champagne.
 

According to the chronicles, one of two things changed Henri’s mind. According to the Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre, Richard Plantagenet promised to return with a new crusading army and restore the Kingdom of Jerusalem to its former glory as well as conquer Constantinople (hindsight after the Fourth Crusade???) and give Cyprus to Henri too (some Richard had already given to Guy de Lusignan). According to the Itinerarium, on the other hand, Isabella of Jerusalem paid a visit to Henri and persuaded him to marry her by her grace and beauty. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in both accounts (Richard promised to return and Isabella convinced Henri that being married to her would not be all bad). In any case, Henri married Isabella eight days after she had been so unexpectedly widowed, on May 5, 1192.





With and by his marriage, Henry of Champagne became titular King of Jerusalem.  Henry's reign is the subject of a separate entry which will be posted on December 30.

Henry de Champagne is a significant character in “Envoy of Jerusalem,” where his relationship to Isabella is developed and examined.




Friday, December 2, 2016

Isabella, Queen of Jerusalem


Isabella of Jerusalem was the founder of two dynasties. Her daughters wore the crowns of Jerusalem and Cyprus and all subsequent monarchs of both houses were her direct descendants. She was the vital link between the proud first Kingdom of Jerusalem, established by the First Crusade, and the much diminished second Kingdom of Acre established on the rubble of the first Kingdom. Yet most historians and novelist dismiss her as a mere pawn. 


Her reign began with an abduction. 



In November 1190, Queen Sibylla of Jerusalem died of fever in the siege camp at Acre. She had been pre-deceased by her brother, King Baldwin IV, her son, King Baldwin V, and both her daughters. The only remaining direct descendant of her father, King Amalric, was her half-sister, Isabella, who now became the heir apparent to the throne of Jerusalem. 


Shortly after her sister’s death, in the middle of a November night, Isabella, Princess of Jerusalem, was dragged from the tent and bed she shared with her husband Humphrey de Toron, and taken into the custody of the leading prelates of the church present at the siege of Acre. Among these were the Papal Legate, the Archbishop of Pisa; Philip, the Bishop of Beauvais, and Baldwin, the Archbishop of Canterbury along with two other unnamed bishops. They informed her that an ecclesiastical inquiry was to be conducted on the validity of her marriage to Humphrey of Toron.


Now, Isabella had by this point in time been living under the same roof as Humphrey  de Toron for fourteen years. She had been married to him for eleven. Although she had no children and, it is questionable if the marriage had ever been consummated, she nevertheless viewed herself as legally married. All accounts agree that she initially objected to being taken from Humphrey and resisted the efforts to annul her marriage because she “loved” him. They also agree that within just a few days, she had changed her mind and consented to the annulment. 



Why? 


Clerics in the service of the English King and bitterly hostile to her second husband attribute her change of heart to the misogynous thesis that “a girl can easily be taught to do what is morally wrong” or the fact that “a woman’s opinion changes very easily.”[i] A more neutral chronicle attributes her change of heart to the influence (often described as brow-beating) of her mother. Either way, contemporary clerics depict Isabella as a mindless pawn of those more powerful, and modern historians and novelists have generally accepted this thesis uncritically ever since.



In doing so, they ignore a fundamental fact: in November 1190 the Kingdom of Jerusalem had been reduced to the single city of Tyre following the disastrous Battle of Hattin, and the desperate bid to re-capture the city of Acre had bogged down into a war of attrition with the besiegers themselves besieged by the army of Saladin. Jerusalem needed not just a legitimate queen, it needed a king capable of leading the fight for the recovery of the lost kingdom.



Isabella’s husband, Humphrey de Toron, was not that man. Contemporary chronicles describe him as “cowardly and effeminate”[iii] or “more like a woman than a man: he had a gentle manner and a stammer.”[iv] Thus regardless of Isabella’s impeccable claim to the throne of Jerusalem, the High Court (which consisted of the barons and bishops of the kingdom) was not prepared to recognize her as queen unless and until she set aside Humphrey de Toron and took another husband more suitable to the High Court.


The evidence that this was the key factor is provided by the arguments put into the mouth of her mother, the Dowager Queen of Jerusalem and daughter of the Imperial House of Constantinople, who is said to have reminded her daughter of: 
"the evil deed that [Humphrey] had done, for when the count of Tripoli and the other barons who were at Nablus wanted to crown him king and her queen, he had fled to Jerusalem and, begging forgiveness, had done homage to Queen Sibylla….So long as Isabella was his wife she could have neither honor nor her father’s kingdom. [Italics added.] Moreover…when she [Isabella] married she was still under age and for that reason the validity of her marriage could be challenged.[ii]

Significantly, the High Court had taken the same stance with regard to her elder sister, who had also been married to an unsuitable man when the death of her son made her the rightful queen.  Sibylla had agreed to divorce her detested husband Guy de Lusignan on the condition she be allowed to choose her next husband -- only to blithely announce that she chose her old husband as her “new” husband after she was crowned and anointed. This incident must have been very much in the minds of the barons when they faced a similar situation with her sister Isabella in 1190. They were determined not to repeat their mistake of four years earlier. Isabella had to be legally separated from Humphrey and married to a man they deemed suitable before the High Court would acknowledge her as queen. Once the situation was made clear to her, Isabella changed her testimony and once her marriage to Humphrey was dissolved, she married the man selected by the High Court, Conrad de Montferrat. (For more details on Isabella's highly controversial divorce see:http://defendingcrusaderkingdoms.blogspot.com/2015/11/the-abduction-of-isabella.html)


What this all says is that isabella preferred to wear the (at that point almost worthless) crown of Jerusalem over remaining married to the man she “loved.” So maybe she did not “love” Humphrey all that much? Or she was more ambitious than people give her credit for. Either way she made a choice.



Her second husband, Conrad de Montferrat was a man with a formidable reputation at arms. He had almost single-handedly saved Tyre from surrender to Saladin in July 1187 and defended it a second time in December that same year. Before that, however, he had charmed the court in Constantinople with his good-looks, manners and education. He was also roughly twice Isabella’s age at the time of their marriage. 


Isabella would have had no illusions about why Conrad was marrying her: for the throne of Jerusalem. As a royal princess that would neither have surprised nor offended her. Isabella and Conrad, one can argue, chose one another because together they offered the Kingdom of Jerusalem the best means of avoiding obliteration. The legitimacy of Isabella and the military prowess of Conrad gave the barons and people of Jerusalem a rallying point around which to build a come-back. Notably, she called on her barons to do homage to her immediately after her marriage to Montferrat; that is the act of a woman determined to establish her position and remind her vassals of it.


Unfortunately for both Isabella and Conrad, the King of England out of feudal loyalty or sheer petulant hostility to his rival the King of France (who was related to and backed Conrad), chose to uphold the claim of Sibylla’s widowed husband Guy de Lusignan to the throne of Jerusalem. What this meant for Isabella was that despite her marriage to the man preferred by the High Court, she was not recognized or afforded the dignities of queen because the powerful King of England (who rapidly seized command of the entire campaign to regain lost territory in what became known as the Third Crusade) opposed her husband. 

Conrad and Isabella's formidable opponent: Richard the Lionheart
Conrad responded by refusing to support the crusaders and by seeking a separate peace with Saladin. The Sultan, however, snubbed him, rightly seeing Richard as the greater threat with whom he needed to conclude any truce. We can assume that this was an incredibly frustrating experience for Isabella, but she was perhaps cheered the fact that she at last conceived in early 1192.



In April 1192, the English King finally relented, and word reached Tyre that he was prepared to recognize Isabella and Conrad as Queen and King of Jerusalem. The city of Tyre, fiercely loyal to Conrad ever since he’d saved them Saladin, was seized with rapturous rejoicing. In a dramatic gesture, Conrad asked God to strike him down if he did not deserve the honor of the crown of the Holy City. He then walked out into the streets to be stabbed by two assassins. Mortally wounded, he was carried to his residence where he died in agony in Isabella’s arms. She was not yet twenty years old.


She was, however, still the last surviving direct descendant of the Kings of Jerusalem, and her kingdom had never needed her more. The King of England had already received news that made it imperative for him to return to the West. The precarious gains of the Third Crusade needed defending. Isabella had to remarry, and she had to remarry a man acceptable to the High Court and the King of England. She was given just eight days between the assassination of her second husband and her marriage to her third.


A pawn? Or a queen who put the interests of her kingdom ahead of her own feelings?


Notably, the man selected by the High Court (accounts claiming the “people” of Tyre chose him are nonsense) was the nephew of the Kings of England and France, a grandson of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henri Count of Champagne. The Count had been one of the first to “take the cross” and come out to Outremer to fight for the recovery of Isabella’s kingdom. He was, furthermore, only 26 years old and apparently gallant and courteous. According to Itinerarium, far from being greedy for a crown, he was a reluctant candidate, who was distressed by Isabella’s situation and only persuaded to consent when she herself assured him that it was her wish. Certainly, he never styled himself “King of Jerusalem,” preferring the title to which he had been born, Count of Champagne.





In the five years of her marriage to Champagne, Isabella gave birth to a posthumous daughter by Montferrat, Marie, and three daughters by Champagne, Marguerite, Alice and Philippa. It was during this marriage that a degree of stability descended over her kingdom with a three-year, eight month truce with the Saracens signed Sept. 2/3, 1192. But on September 10, 1197, Henri fell out of a window to his death. The circumstances remain obscure. A balcony or window-frame possibly gave way, or he simply lost his balance when turning suddenly. No allegations of foul play were ever made.


Isabella was again a widow and the truce with Saladin had expired. The kingdom was again in need of a king capable of leading armies in its defense. Although they according Isabella four months of mourning this time, in the end the High Court selected Isabella’s next husband. Their choice fell on the ruling King of Cyprus, her former brother-in-law, Aimery de Lusignan. They were married and crowned jointly as King and Queen of Jerusalem in Acre in January 1198.


Their first child, a daughter Sibylle, was born the same year as their marriage (1198) and a second daughter Melusinde, two years later. Their son, named Aimery for his father, was born last but died in February 1205. Two months later, on April 1, 1205 King Aimery died of food poisoning, he would have been between 55 and 60 at the time of his death. Isabella died shortly afterwards, likely shattered by the loss of her only son and her fourth husband in such quick succession. The cause of her death is unknown. She was 32 to 33 years old.


Four of her daughters survived her. The eldest, Marie de Montferrat, now thirteen-years-old and the posthumous daughter of Conrad de Montferrat, succeeded to the crown of Jerusalem. Isabella’s eldest surviving daughter by Champagne, Alice, married her step-brother, Aimery de Lusignan’s eldest son by his first marriage, Hugh I, King of Cyprus. Her eldest daughter by Aimery de Lusignan married Leo I, King of Armenia. Her youngest daughter Melusinde married Bohemund IV, Prince of Antioch.


Isabella’s life was short by modern standards and filled with drama from her separation from her family at age eight to her dramatic divorce, the assassination of one husband, and the death of two more. Yet throughout Isabella consistently did what was in the best interests of her kingdom. That suggests to me that she was more than a mere pawn. She was certainly more admirable than her elder sister, whose stubborn loyalty to the man she loved had led to the catastrophe at Hattin and the loss of nearly the entire kingdom.


Isabella is an important character in both:






Defender of Jerusalem 

and

Envoy of Jerusalem 










[i] Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi
[ii] The Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre.
[iii] Ibid
[iv] Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi