Showing posts with label Joanna Plantagenet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joanna Plantagenet. Show all posts

Friday, October 28, 2016

Philip II of France in the Holy Land







Seal of Philip II Capet

Philip II Capet of France has gone down in French history as Philip Augustus, another way of saying Philip the Great or Philip the Magnificent. He earned this epithet primarily for wresting territory away from King John of England and restoring the control of the French monarchy over the vast lands in Continental Europe that had been controlled for half a century by John’s father (Henry II) and brother (Richard I). Philip II was able to reduce the English-controlled territories to a small enclave near Bordeaux. Having successfully subdued the most powerful of his insubordinate vassals, he proceeded to systematically re-establish the primacy of the monarchy over all the barons of France. By the end of his reign he had greatly increased the wealth, prestige and power of the central government in Paris, built the Louve, and established the University of Paris. He ruled a total of 43 years, from 1180 to 1223, and was the first king to style himself “King of France” instead of “King of the Franks.”

But most of this occurred well after Philip’s brief sojourn in the Holy Land, and the focus of this post is on Philip Capet at the time of and during the Third Crusade.

Philip had been born in August 1165, or eight years after Richard of England. He had been crowned king in late 1179 while his father yet lived, and became sole king of France at the age of 15 the following year. Almost at once he started fighting with the Count of Flanders over territory, and while this was resolved by treaty in 1185, Philip had meanwhile started making demands on Henry II for the return of his sister’s dowry. (His sister Marguerite was the widow of Henry the Young King, Henry II’s eldest son, who had died in 1183)  This war with the Plantagenets was to last the next thirty years, with periodic truces.

The war between the Capets and Plantagenets was an intimate affair. Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry II’s queen and mother of Henry the Young King, Richard, Geoffrey and John, had been married to Philip’s father. Philip had two half-sisters, who were Eleanor’s daughters by his father ― and they, of course, were half-sisters of the young Plantagenets also, by their mother. Philip’s sister Marguerite was married to Henry the Young King, making them brothers-in-law. Philip’s other sister Alys was betrothed to Richard. Henry the Young King and his brothers represented their father at Philip’s coronation in 1179, they attended the French court at other times as well. Philip knew the Plantagenets well, and they him.

This medieval illumination is meant to depict Philip II's Coronation. The Figure on the Right Represents Henry II, who was not present. Henry II is also shown wearing three lions/leopards, a device that was not adopted by the English royal house until Richard returned from the Holy Land.
In 1186, Philip succeeded in pulling the third Plantagenet son, Geoffrey, into his net. Geoffrey was preparing to rebel against his father (again), when he was killed in a tournament. Philip allegedly tried to throw himself into the grave from grief. Two years later, Philip lured the eldest of Henry’s surviving sons, Richard into his camp by claiming (almost certainly untruthfully) that Henry did not intend to name Richard his heir. Richard publicly paid homage to Philip as his liege after confronting his father about his inheritance, and then fought at Philip’s side until his father was defeated, humiliated and dead. During this period of alliance, Philip and Richard were said to be so close that they shared a bed, a fact that has given rise to many accusations of homosexuality against Richard but, curiously, not against Philip. 

In any case, everything changed the minute Richard was King of England.  Richard and Philip might have been allies against Henry II, but they were enemies the moment Richard took up his father’s mantle. Richard Plantagenet had no more intention of playing humble vassal to Philip than his father had; he intended to retain control over all his territories. Philip and Richard were thus on a collision course from July 6, 1189 onward.

But on the surface they had a common cause. They had both taken the cross and vowed to recover Jerusalem for Christendom. Richard had been the first prominent nobleman in the West to do so, and his subsequent actions attest to his sincere commitment to restoring Christian rule to the Holy City. Philip on the other hand is widely believed to have been pressured into crusading by his nobles and clergy; his subsequent actions seem to bear this out. Nevertheless, from 1189 to 1190 Philip was engaged in preparing for what would become known as the Third Crusade. 


On July 1, 1190, Philip met up with Richard at Vezelay in Burgundy and travelled together at the head of their respective hosts as far as Lyon, before proceeding by different routes to the next rendezvous: Messina on Sicily. Philip was by now mourning the loss of his wife Isabelle, who had died giving him twin sons, who died shortly afterwards. He therefore arrived in Sicily a widower. Evidently to the disappointment of the spectators ― but very indicative of Philip’s nature ― he made no great show of his arrival. He arrived in a single ship (i.e. ahead of his fleet) and immediately disappeared inside the castle on the harbor.

In Sicily, King William II, a staunch supporter of the crusader cause and brother-in-law to Richard of England, had died unexpectedly in November 1189, shortly before the Kings of France and England arrived. Lacking any direct heirs, the Sicilian throne had been seized by his illegitimate first cousin Tancred, who made the tactical error of placing the Dowager Queen of Sicily (Richard the Lionheart’s sister Joanna Plantagenet) under arrest.

Richard of England, in contrast to Philip, arrived in Sicily with his entire fleet and a with a showy fanfare of trumpets, fluttering banners, banging shields and the like. On landing and learning that his sister had been impressed, he demanded not only her release but the restoration of her dower portion (or compensation) and the full payment of everything William II had pledged to the crusade itself. Tancred capitulated rapidly, and Joanna Plantagenet made an immediate conquest: in Philip of France.

This illustration allegedly shows Richard, Joanna and Philip in Sicily
Accounts suggest that Joanna, who like Philip was just 25 years old, was beautiful (she was Eleanor of Aquitaine’s daughter, after all), and, of course, she was a dowager queen by marriage and a princess by birth. As Richard was already betrothed to his sister Alys, Philip may have seriously considered strengthening the bonds by taking Joanna to wife. Richard absolutely refused to think about this because he had no intention of marrying Philip’s sister Alys Capet.

Meanwhile, however relations between Richard and Philip, already brittle with unspoken rivalry and latent hostility, had broken into the open when fights broke out between the local inhabitants and Richard’s troops. The English claimed they were being cheated, the locals claimed the English were disorderly and disrespectful. There were too many fighting men in a strange town, harassing the girls and probably being pick-pocketed etc. The situation is perennial and resurfaces whenever there are large armies in foreign territory. Something ignited an all-out fight, and while Richard first tried to calm tempers, he soon lost his own and came to the aid of his men. Philip of France, probably out of spite for Richard rather than sympathy for the Sicilians, took the side of the locals against his fellow crusader.  The break was so public and bitter that it took the efforts of many noblemen on both sides to get the two kings to reconcile.

The atmosphere between them deteriorated further when suddenly Eleanor of Aquitaine arrived in the company of Berengaria of Navarre.  Richard  now announced that he had chosen her as his wife instead of Alys. To an astonished and furious Philip, Richard explained that he could not possibly marry Alys because his father had known her carnally. The brilliance of this argument against a marriage that had been agreed years earlier was that this allegation stemmed from none other than Philip himself. Philip had used the accusation in his web of lies to induce Richard to turn against his father. As a result, Philip could do little more than swallow his own pride (and bile no doubt). But a marriage with Joanna was now obviously off the table. The kinship ties so elaborately devised by Philip and Richard’s fathers had all broken, and what remained was open and growing hatred.


But first there was a crusade to carry out, and the Kings of England and France publicly vowed to share all spoils in the upcoming campaign in the Holy Land. Then at the first opportunity Philip embarked his army and set sail for the Holy Land on March 30, 1191.   



Philip’s entire fleet crossed the Mediterranean without notable incident. On May 20, the King of France arrived off the city of Tyre, the last Frankish stronghold in the Kingdom of Jersualem. Tyre was controlled by a distant relative of Philip’s, Conrad de Montferrat, one of the two contenders for the throne of Jerusalem. Philip immediately threw his support behind Montferrat, bolstering his claim to the crown against those of his rival, Guy de Lusignan. He and Conrad together proceeded to the Christian siege of Acre. Here Philip brought not only new troops but new vigor to the siege, at once erecting a number of powerful siege engines.

However, he soon became ill with what the contemporary chronicles call “Arnoldia,” a debilitating illness that caused the loss of hair and nails and could be fatal. Furthermore, with the arrival of King Richard there were two commanders in the same camp and frictions between them sparked almost at once. Allegedly, Richard refused to let his troops support at least one attack ordered by Philip.  But then Richard too fell ill with “Arnoldia.”

Various assaults and above all the action of the siege engines continued as both kings gradually regained their strength. Most significantly, the arrival of the French and English fleet had enabled the sea blockade of Acre to become completely effective and no supplies, munitions or reinforcements were slipping into the city. By early July the Saracen garrison of Acre had reached the breaking point. The commanders of the Saracen garrison therefore sought a truce in which to seek instructions from Saladin. They told the French and English kings that they would surrender if Saladin did not come to their aid within a set period of time, asking to be allowed to take their arms and their moveable valuables with them and enjoy a safe-conduct to wherever they wished to go. King Philip, supported by his nobles, agreed. King Richard insisted they should not be allowed their arms and valuables. Negotiations broke down.

Medieval depiction of the Surrender of Acre -- notably to Philip. Richard is beside him.

Ten days later, with still no relief from Saladin, the garrison again sought terms and this time agreed to much harsher conditions: the return of the Christian relic known as the “True Cross” that had been captured at the battle of Hattin, the release of an unspecified number oChristian prisoners taken at or after Hattin, and the payment of 200,000 Saracen gold pieces, all to be delivered one month after the signing of the agreement. Members of the garrison (the numbers vary according to source) were to be held as hostages to ensure the release of the Christians, the remaining members of the garrison were free to go ― but without their arms or valuables. The kings of France and England accepted these terms.

On July 12, the hostages were surrendered, the remaining garrison marched out ― proudly by all accounts ― and the crusaders took possession of Acre after four years of Saracen occupation. They found the churches desecrated, but otherwise most of the city intact. It was divided equally between the French and English, with Richard’s men notably (and foolishly as it turned out) throwing down the banner of the Duke of Austria because that represented a claim to the spoils and Richard wasn’t sharing with anyone but Philip of France.

But now that Acre was in the hands of the crusaders, the issue of who was the rightful King of Jerusalem came again to the fore. As noted above, Philip backed the claims of Conrad de Montferrat (a kinsman), who was married to the sole remaining legitimate heir, Isabella of Jerusalem, and was supported by the High Court of Jerusalem. Richard, however, stubbornly backed the architect of the disaster at Hattin, King Guy, who was a vassal of the Plantagenet. After much bitter fighting, a compromise was found. Guy was recognized as king for his life-time, but Conrad was recognized as Count of Tyre (to include Sidon and Beirut, if/when these cities were ever recovered) and heir to the throne at Guy’s death. Curiously, however, Guy’s elder brother Geoffrey, who had come out from the West with the crusaders, was also awarded the title of Count of Jaffa and Ascalon, the county that traditionally belonged to the heir of the throne. To be sure Jaffa and Ascalon were at this point in still in Saracen hands, but it was an ominous hint that the Lusignans did not really accept ― and did not intend to respect ― the agreement to make Montferrat king at Guy’s death.

With that dispute at least temporarily out of the way, Philip dropped a bombshell: he announced that he was turning over his share of all the booty to Conrad de Montferrat and intended to return to France. No one, not even his own nobles, had expected or approved of this abandonment of the crusade. His official excuse was “ill-health.” (He had either never fully recovered from the Arnoldia or he had contracted dysentery subsequently.) No one accepted this as a legitimate reason to break-off a crusade. Crusaders were supposed to achieve their objective, or die in the attempt. No one, however, was able to reason with or shame Philip into changing his mind. Despite alleged curses and bitter recriminations, Philip prepared to depart. Richard, suspicious that Philip’s intentions were to attack his lands in his absence, demanded that Philip swear on holy relics that he would leave the Plantagenet territories in peace until Richard’s return.

On August 1, 1191, Philip boarded an galley loaned to him by Richard of England and sailed for Tyre. He took Conrad de Montferrat and the most valuable of the Saracen hostages from the surrender of Acre with him. The exact date of his departure from Tyre is not recorded, but he was no longer in Outremer when the deadline for the delivery of the True Cross, captives and cash payment expired in mid-August. The decision to massacre the hostages fell to Richard of England alone.

Philip was back in Paris by late 1191. He immediately began undermining Richard’s authority and drawing the last and youngest of the Plantagenet brothers, John, into his net. His vow not to attack Richard during his absence was as meaningless as the crusader vow he’d taken before leaving for the Holy Land ― and as meaningless as the marriage vows he exchanged with Ingeborg of Denmark. Philip Capet, great as his legacy was for France, lacked any sense of personal honor, integrity, and a fear of God. While his qualities served his kingdom well, he remains for me a distasteful character.

Philip II of France plays a minor role in Envoy of Jerusalem

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Saturday, April 16, 2016

A Curious Proposal for Inter-Faith Marriage to End the Third Crusade




 
One of the most bizarre diplomatic incidents of the Third Crusade was a proposal to re-establish a Kingdom of Jerusalem under Saladin’s brother al-Adil (as king) and Richard the Lionheart’s sister, Joanna (as queen). The idea of a marriage between the Muslim al-Adil and the Christian Joanna, who was the Dowager Queen of Sicily, has long captured the imagination of novelists. None less than Sir Walter Scott wove the incident (modified to Richard’s niece and Saladin himself) into his novel The Talisman. Meanwhile, serious historians have puzzled over Richard’s motives, while the idea of an inter-faith marriage that guaranteed a kingdom of tolerance and peace in the Holy Land has mesmerized modern advocates of peace in the Middle East.



But was there such a proposal? And if so, who originated it and why?



The Christian chronicles, notably the Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi and the Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre, are completely silent on the proposal — as if it never happened.  John Gillingham in his excellent biography Richard I notes that many historians doubt that the proposal was made or dismiss it as a joke. He then notes that it is mentioned in two of the contemporary Arab sources (Baha ad-Din and Imad ad-Din) and suggests that “Richard’s proposals may have been intended as probes in the hope of finding and widening splits at Saladin’s court, perhaps above all between Saladin and the brother whom he [Saladin] admired, respected and trusted — yet who inevitably posed a threat to the peaceful succession of his own sons.” (Richard I, Yale University Press, 1999, p. 185).



The French historian Jean Flori sites Imad ad-Din as blaming “Christian leaders — in his opinion too ‘intolerant’ — to ‘deliver her body to a Muslim.’” Imad ad-Din suggests that Richard offered a niece in place of his sister, after claiming “the Christian people disapprove of me giving my sister in marriage without consulting the pope, the head and leader of Christianity.” Imad ad-Din says Richard even claimed he had sent a message to the pope requesting “permission.”



While it seems unlikely Imad ad-Din fabricated the whole thing, it still raises the question: Was Richard serious and why would he make this astonishing offer?



Gillingham thinks “there is nothing implausible” about Richard suggesting his sister marry a Muslim as such marriages “had occasionally, in eleventh century Spain for example, occurred.” With all due respect to Gillingham, what had occasionally happened in the previous century in a kingdom Richard hardly knew is not the same thing as Eleanor of Aquitaine’s son giving away his allegedly beloved sister. She was furthermore a widow, and widows could not legally be coerced into marriage against their will, and she was a Dowager Queen. She was not a handy piece of flesh to sell on the market. Yes, marriages at this time were made for political and dynastic reasons not for love, and later Joanna would prove an extremely valuable instrument for pulling the Count of Toulouse out of Philip of France’s camp and into Richard’s. That’s not the same thing as suggesting she join the harem of Muslim leader.



The proposal to re-establish the Kingdom of Jerusalem within the territories of the earlier Kingdom lost to Saladin after Hattin posed other serious challenges for Richard as well. First and foremost, the deal required Richard delivering all the territories in the former kingdom held by the Christians to his sister as her dowery, but Richard was in no position to do so. Aside from the fact that he did not control Tyre (Conrad de Montferrat did), he was faced with almost continuous rebellion on the part of the French crusaders led by the Duke of Burgundy, and last but not least, no peace would be viable without the consent of the local barons and the militant orders. Less than forty years later, when another Western king made a deal with the Saracens without taking into account the concerns of those who would be left to live with it, he was furiously criticized and pelted with rubbish and refuge as he made his way to depart on his waiting ships. Friedrich II’s deal with the Sultan al-Kamil was far less onerous or insulting than the deal allegedly proposed by Richard the Lionheart. It restored Jerusalem and Bethlehem entirely to Christian rule — it simply didn’t provide for their fortification, making it a fragile and indefensible, indeed, sham victory. It is quite hard for me to image that the Templars and Hospitallers, much less the lords of Outremer, would have accepted a settlement that placed the entire Holy Land under Salah ad-Din’s control, as the terms were that al-Adil would hold the kingdom as fief of his brother the Sultan.



Likewise, the idea that Richard would make a deal with Saladin that would be greeted with outrage by the local barons and the militant orders is not in keeping with Richard’s record on the Third Crusade. From the very start, Richard relied heavily on the militant orders not only militarily but for advice as well. He also listened to the advice of the barons of Outremer and it was on their advice that he twice broke off the attempt to regain Jerusalem. Richard, unlike Friedrich II, was not so arrogant that he thought he knew better than everyone else.



Nor was Richard a fool, as his later, highly successful and sophisticated diplomatic maneuvering against Philip of France was to prove. Yet, the proposal as outlined by the Arab chronicles would have been very foolish indeed. In exchange for placing his sister in al-Adil’s haram, he was to give up all the territory he had reconquered and then sail away with his entire army and leave the entire Holy Land in the “benevolent” hands of the Saracen Sultan. To be sure, the terms of the treaty were that Christians would be able to visit all the holy places, but only as unarmed pilgrims. So, as soon as all the crusaders had sailed away, what was to stop al-Adil from repudiating Joanna Plantagenet (all he needed to do was repeat the divorce formula three times), sending her in disgrace to beg in the streets or prostitute herself (since she had no male relatives to defend her honor or protect her) and then closing the pilgrim routes, making slaves of the Christians already in country and then trashing the churches?



For Richard Plantagenet to have made this proposal of marriage between his “beloved” sister Joanna and the brother of Saladin, he would have had to be: 1) completely ignorant of Sharia law, 2) completely disinterested in the opinion of those who would have to live with the consequences of his plan (his sister, his allies, the military orders, the lords of Outremer, and 3) stupid. I don’t think Richard was any of the above.



Which doesn’t mean the proposal was not made. Turning to the far more reliable of the Arab chronicles, Baha ad-Din we find the answer: that this proposal so obviously beneficial to the Saracens was proposed not by Richard but by al-Adil. Baha ad-Din states very explicitly: “On 22 ramadan/20 October al Malik al-Adil sent for me…and showed us proposals that had been sent to the King of England by his [al-Adil’s] messenger. He said that his plan was that he himself should marry the King’s sister, whom Richard had brought with him from Sicily where she had been the wife of the late King.” (Italics added.) Baha ad-Din could not have been more explicit. This plan did not originate with Richard.



As a proposal from ad-Adil it makes perfect sense. He carved out a large and very profitable fiefdom under his brother, ended the war that was wearing everyone down and absorbing resources, and got rid of the troublesome and far too successful crusaders — all for the price of adding one more woman to his harem that he could repudiate at any time without cause just by telling her he divorced her! At which point, as I noted above, there would be no one left to take her in or defend her honor. Could there be a better deal? Why shouldn’t he propose it and see if the Christian king was stupid enough to accept?



Baha ad-Din also provides the very telling information that when al-Adil sought his brother’s approval for the plan, Saladin approved “knowing quite well that the King of England would never agree to [the terms] and they were only a trick and a practical joke on his [Saladin’s] part.” Al-Adil might have dreamed of being king of a powerful kingdom that had for a hundred years maintained its independence; his brother had no intention whatsoever of giving his brother lands that valuable or self-sufficient. Saladin appears to have had a higher opinion of Richard’s intelligence than al-Adil.



And Saladin was right. Richard made excuses (like needing the pope’s approval, which is nonsense) or claiming “the Christian people” were against the proposal (impossible since he didn’t tell “the people” about it). Allegedly he even jestingly suggested al-Adil become Christian, to which al-Adil suggested Joanna become Muslim. It was, by then, clearly nothing but a joke between them. It remains to this day, however, a colorful incident perfect for novels.



The incident is incorporated into my novel “Envoy of Jerusalem” covering the Third Crusade and Balian d’Ibelin’s prominent role  in the negotiations with Saladin.





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