Wednesday, 27 November 2019

The Plantagenets Mini-Series Part II: King John and Henry III

The Plantagenets Mini-Series Part II: King John and Henry III

This is to accompany the second podcast episode and is Part II of the Plantagenets Mini-Series. This episode covered King John and Henry III.


King John
John (r. 1199-1216)

Born: 24 December 1166 in Beaumont Palace, Oxford, England

Succeeded: Richard I (his younger brother as Richard had no legitimate children. He was also Henry II’s youngest son)

Coronation: 27 May 1199

Marriage: Isabella, Countess of Gloucester (m. 1189, ann. 1199); Isabella, Countess of Angouleme (m. 1200 – John’s death)

Reigned: 27 May 1199 – 19 October 1216

Died: 19 October 1216, Newark Castle, Nottinghamshire, England

Preceded: Henry III (eldest surviving son)


John was coronated as King of England less than two months after the death of his older brother, Richard I. From the outset, it appeared that John was to be an unpopular king: according to historian Nicholas Vincent, John had been ‘spoiled by his mother, intimidated by his father and [he] had shown signs of unpleasantness from his early youth.’ When Henry II made John the overlord of Ireland at the tender age of 18, he apparently outraged the Irish kings by pulling their beards and laughing at them.

In expected fashion, the section covering King John in 1066 And All That is entitled ‘John: An Awful King’. Although it is a parody, it still enforces the common perception that John was indeed a bad king. But that is open to discussion!

Less than a year into his reign, John divorced his first wife to be betrothed to a southern French heiress in 1200. Isabella of Angouleme had previously been betrothed to a local baron who was so outraged that he openly rebelled against John. John’s fifteen-year-old nephew, Arthur of Brittany, also joined the baron in rebellion: Arthur was John’s older brother Geoffrey’s eldest surviving son (Geoffrey had died in 1186) and many contemporaries thought that Arthur had a better claim to the throne than John as the son of an elder brother, rather than the ‘wicked uncle.’ Nevertheless, John managed to crush Arthur’s rebellion, and – in similar fashion to Richard III almost 300 years later – the king’s nephew was imprisoned and then miraculously disappeared, never to be heard of again.

Like his father and brother, John spent the majority of his reign in Plantagenet territory on the Continent until his circumstances changed in December 1203. Philip II invaded Normandy, but rather than staying to fight, John left on a ship to Portsmouth. On 6 December 1203 (which was almost 49 years to the day that Henry II landed in England as the first Plantagenet king), Philip conquered Normandy. However, the loss of Normandy was not entirely John’s fault: both Henry II and Richard I had left England for long periods of time (in fact, England had not seen as much of their king since Stephen’s reign until John came to the throne), and they had left huge financial dents in the Crown.

This is the likely reason John became an ‘English’ king – he was forced to spend his time in England building up resources to attempt to recover Normandy. He was essentially duty-bound to do this: by 1204, Philip had overrun Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Touraine and all of Poitou bar La Rochelle. As unfortunate circumstances would have it, Philip was now a much more formidable enemy than he had been in Richard I’s reign.

John was also notorious for arguing with the Church: in 1205, he clashed with Pope Innocent III over a disputed election over the see of Canterbury, and in 1208 Innocent laid an interdict on England and Wales demanding that all church services were to be suspended for six years. As David Starkey states, the papal interdict was a ‘clerical strike, in which the clergy refused to say mass, bury corpses, or marry couples.’

Papal relations went from bad to worse for John, and in 1209 he was excommunicated. Although initially John appeared unfazed (because he had confiscated the Church’s estates which eased his financial problems), it would only be a matter of four years before he was back asking for forgiveness.

In 1212, Philip II planned to cross the Channel (which also coupled with a baronial rebellion), and this was enough to scare John into realising how vulnerable he was to invasion and rebellion because of his excommunication. He agreed to make peace with the Church so that he could have a free hand to deal with his enemies. However, this was not at a cheap cost: John had agreed to surrender his kingdom (England and Ireland) to the Pope and receive it back from him as a feudal dependency. John had also promised an annual sum of 1000 marks to Innocent III and his successors in perpetuity. Henry Knighton, a fourteenth-century chronicler, wrote that John had ‘turned himself from a free man into a slave’ for this submission to the Papacy.

Nevertheless, John led an army to Poitou in 1214 – almost ten years after his territory had been lost – but he was roundly defeated at the Battle of Bouvines on 27 July 1214. The battle was a huge gamble: the English were close to winning at one point when Philip II had been thrown off his horse, but the French fought back and overwhelmed the English. John could do nothing: he was at the mercy of his subjects.

Luck appeared to be on John’s side this time, though: in order for a successful rebellion, the rebels required leadership – but there were no obvious leaders. All of John’s brothers were dead, so there was no rival brother of the king to turn to; Prince Arthur had been ‘eliminated’ roughly ten years before this, and Prince Louis (the son of Philip II) was a Capetian Prince – hardly an attractive anti-king rebel leader.

Instead, the rebels devised a new form of revolt: a programme of reform. The rebels captured London and met John at a place near Windsor called Runnymede, and presented him with a document which became known as Magna Carta. The document was (as historians John Gillingham and Ralph A. Griffiths put it) ‘a hostile commentary on some of the more objectionable features of the last 60 years of [Plantagenet] rule.’
An extract from Magna Carta (1215)

Attempts to implement Magna Carta – which was unacceptable to John – led to further debates, revisions and quarrels. John appealed to Pope Innocent III saying that he had been forced to sign Magna Carta. Shockingly, Innocent agreed, and declared Magna Carta null and void.

Civil war broke out. Louis reached England in May 1216, and this was enough to make John sign Magna Carta. On 19 October 1216, King John died ‘unmourned and unloved’, leaving behind his nine-year-old son Prince Henry as his successor. The thirteenth-century chronicler Matthew Paris stated that ‘Foul as it is, hell itself is made fouler with the presence of John.’ This was one contemporary opinion that has survived through the ages to paint a picture of how we imagine most contemporaries felt under John’s rule.

So what legacy did John leave behind? Paris’ statement suggests that John’s reign was woeful, and this seems to be true for the most part, with regard to his atypical Plantagenet rage and personality, coupled with England’s territorial losses. Norman Davies argues that John ‘[lost the trust of his subjects] through repeated acts of tyranny, lost the Duchy of Normandy through defeat…and lost the initiative in English politics through the concessions of Magna Carta.’

Interestingly, John’s submission to Innocent III was the central issue in the history of his reign to many medieval chroniclers. There is more emphasis on this in Thomas Gray’s Scalachronica, the Eulogium Historiarum and even  in John Capgrave’s fifteenth century Chronicle of England. This highlights the importance of religion to the chroniclers of the time, and it is likely that only recently historians have begun viewing his social and domestic policies (such as his attitude, his loss in Normandy or the outbreak of civil war leading to Magna Carta) as worse than his submission to the Pope due to societal changes.

It does not help John’s cause that he came after a largely favoured, romanticised warrior king in Richard I, and a seemingly harmless king in Henry III, making him seem all the more unsuccessful, evil and selfish. However, as ever with Plantagenet kings, nothing is as easy as it seems – and this was definitely the case for Henry III.


Henry III

Born: 1 October 1207, Winchester Castle, Hampshire, England
Henry III (r. 1216-72)

Succeeded: John (his father)

Coronation: 28 October 1216 at Gloucester Abbey; 17 May 1220 at Westminster Abbey

Marriage: Eleanor of Provence on 14 January 1236 at Canterbury Cathedral

Reigned: 28 October 1216 – 16 November 1272

Died: 16 November 1272, Westminster, England

Preceded: Edward I (eldest son)


Despite being named after his grandfather, Henry III bore very few similarities to Henry II. Nicholas Vincent states that he was ‘one of those unfortunate kings famed neither for great wickedness nor for outstanding worth.’ This is a typical overview of Henry III – and a largely true one. Although he ruled England for 56 years, Henry III is still one of the most understudied Plantagenet kings, and very few biographies have appeared on him in recent years. He is mostly known for the longevity of his reign, his enthusiasm for building churches, and his infatuation with Edward the Confessor.

Henry was only 9 when he ascended the throne upon his father’s death. In fairness to John, he had insisted with papal authority that he wanted Henry to succeed him in order to keep the Plantagenet dynasty alive. Henry was coronated immediately in Gloucester Abbey after his father’s death: it was a clear attempt to prevent the barons organising a coronation for Prince Louis in Westminster Abbey first where he might be ‘officially’ received as king.

The question of Magna Carta had not yet disappeared: it was reissued in 1217, and the idea of Parliament was born: the King as the highest member of the council by which England was governed. Even though Henry had very little say in the early years of his reign (he was a minor, so was governed by a body of representatives), his reign initially appeared to be one of success: the ageing regent William Marshal was victorious at the Battle of Lincoln on Saturday 20 May 1217 against Prince Louis’ forces, while Hubert de Burgh (the Justiciar of England) was victorious at the Battle of Sandwich where he intercepted a Capetian fleet off the coast of Dover on 24 August 1217.

However, the relations between Henry’s advisors soon soured as they all fought for personal and political gain. In particular, Hubert de Burgh and Peter des Roches (the French-born Bishop of Winchester) clashed, and in 1223 des Roches attempted to persuade Pope Honorius III to rid Henry’s minority of excessive governors: this plan backfired, and it was eventually de Burgh who edged des Roches from power. Finally, at the age of 19, Henry was declared of age and fit to rule independently.

Henry wanted to recapture Plantagenet territory that had been lost during John’s reign, but none of his advisors had any particular enthusiasm for this, as their families did not have lands in France. Amidst one of these quarrels, the now King Louis VIII of France captured La Rochelle and threatened to take Gascony in 1224. An expedition in 1225 consolidated the position in Gascony but made no attempt to recapture Poitou. After 1224, Gascony was the only territory that remained in Henry III’s hands from what Henry II, Richard I and even John had briefly held.

The 1230s were Henry’s most peaceful years, and arguably, for that reason alone, his most successful years as king. Contemporaries even wrote fairly favourably about him, including Matthew Paris, although this is debatable: Paris tells us (in parchment which was presumably not shown to Henry III) that Henry was interested in the writing of chronicles, and often asked Paris – whom Henry befriended – to show him what he had been writing. Naturally, Paris would not have shown Henry any documents which wrote critically about the Crown.

Cultural developments also came about in England, but not solely in the form of architecture: in 1235, Henry was gifted three ‘leopards’ (probably lions due to their geographical distribution and translation errors) by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II. They were kept in the Tower of London and fascinated locals, who eventually had to pay to come and see them, or alternatively bring a cat or dog to feed to them. This collection of animals grew and became London’s first zoo. King Haakon IV of Norway gifted Henry ‘a magnificent white bear’ (likely a polar bear) in 1252 which swam and hunted for fish in the River Thames, and Louis IX gave him an African elephant in 1255.

However, the onset of the 1240s brought about a different tone in Henry’s reign. The construction of Westminster Cathedral had begun in 1245, and almost bankrupted Henry. It was not to be completed for another 25 years. However, due to Magna Carta, the barons began to have more of an influence in these years, and things took a turn for the worse when Henry invited his half-siblings over from France in 1247.

The Lusignans (Henry’s half-siblings and their families from his mother’s previous marriage) automatically assumed positions of political importance, much to the barons’ distaste. The barons did not appreciate that foreigners could automatically assume governmental positions, and found themselves a leader to contest this notion in the form of another one of English history’s most famous names: Simon de Montfort.

Simon de Montfort was, ironically from the barons’ perspective, a Frenchman. He had been Earl of Leicester since 1231, and Henry made him his governor of Gascony. In 1238, de Montfort married Eleanor (Henry’s youngest sister). Henry admired de Montfort, but this feeling was not mutual – de Montfort felt that Henry was dispensable while he was not: ultimately, their relationship collapsed in 1252 when Henry sacked de Montfort from his position in Gascony. This was a grave tactical error on Henry’s behalf, as de Montfort inadvertently became the ideal leader figure for the barons.

Similarly, in 1252, Pope Innocent IV offered Henry the kingdom of Sicily and Henry accepted on his son Edmund’s behalf in 1254. However, Sicily was already held by Manfred (an illegitimate son of Frederick II). Henry absurdly agreed to finance the conquest of Sicily and pay of the Pope’s debts (135,000 marks). The barons had had enough. They took governmental power out of Henry’s hands and it resulted in a far-reaching programme of reform.

Firstly, the Provisions of Oxford in October 1258 asserted the authority of the barons’ representation in the King’s government and also demonstrated the barons’ ability to press their concerns in opposition to the monarchy. The Provisions of Westminster in October 1259 also reinforced the earlier provisions, as well as furthering taxation reforms. Naturally, Henry was outraged that power had been taken out of an adult king’s hands, and England teetered on the brink of civil war. Eventually, this culminated in the period known as the Second Barons’ War (1264-67).

Simon de Montfort led the rebels against Henry. Fortunately for the rebels, de Montfort had been a crusader, and crushed Henry’s forces at the Battle of Lewes on 14 May 1264. Prince Edward, Henry’s eldest son, fought valiantly and won his area of the battle, but de Montfort’s forces were too well organised and defeated Henry’s army. Prince Edward escaped from captivity and raised another force over the course of a year. Fifteen months later, the two forces met again, at the Battle of Evesham on 4 August 1265. This time, Prince Edward was successful. Not only did his army defeat de Montfort’s, but de Montfort was killed, and dismembered on the battlefield.

Despite the threat of de Montfort being no more, the civil war lingered on until 1267, when the final pockets of resistance were looted out. The Statute of Marlborough passed in 1267 effectively ended the Second Barons’ War (much how the 1217 signing of Magna Carta had ended the First Barons’ War), and thus brought the civil war in England to an end as well. Some contemporaries and historians alike have compared Simon de Montfort to Thomas Becket, but that can be a whole other topic for a different podcast altogether!
Westminster Abbey. Henry III's greatest
legacy?

By 1269, Westminster Abbey had finally been completed, and was the grandest church in Western Europe. Henry had nearly bankrupted the crown, but he had a monument left to unite parliament and royalty in a magnificent church. At the heart of the Abbey was a shrine to Edward the Confessor.

Henry III died in Westminster, on 16 November 1272, aged 65. His 56 year reign had seen two civil wars, but it had also seen the building of one of the finest churches in England, the introduction of exotic animals to England, and a fairly agreeable middle ground between the King and Parliament. Although this issue was to plague monarchs for the majority of English history, Henry III should not be seen as a ‘boring’ king just because he was not a warrior or involved in massive controversies. 

His eldest son Edward succeeded him and started the Edwardian period of the Middle Ages – a period which brought about changes in warfare, politics and domestic policy that had never been seen before. Plantagenet focus shifted from France to Scotland, and a war on the northern frontiers of the Plantagenet empire erupted. More of that next time though!



 Further Reading


If you found this interesting, or you’d like to read more around it, here’s a list of books I can recommend. I’ve used some of them in this blog post (see the books in bold) and cited the relevant authors where necessary. The majority of these books can be picked up cheaply second-hand from websites such as eBay, Amazon and Abe Books.

Norman Davies, Europe: A History (London: The Bodley Head, 2014)

John Gillingham & Ralph A. Griffiths, Medieval Britain: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000)

Chris Given-Wilson, Chronicles: The Writing of History in Medieval England (London: Hambledon and London, 2004)

Simon Jenkins, A Short History of England (London: Profile Books Ltd, 2012)

W. C. Sellar and R. J. Yeatman, 1066 And All That (London: Methuen & Co. Ltd, 1930) (the edition I’ve used is the 1999 reprint)

David Starkey, Crown & Country. The Kings and Queens of England: A History (London: Harper Press, 2010)

Nicholas Vincent, A Brief History of Britain 1066-1485: The Birth of the Nation (London: Robinson, 2011)

Monday, 18 November 2019

The Plantagenets Mini-Series Part I: Henry II and Richard I


This is to accompany the first podcast episode and is Part I of the Plantagenets Mini-Series. This episode covered Henry II and Richard I.

Henry II


Born: 5 March 1133 in Le Mans, Maine, Kingdom of France.

Henry II (r. 1154-89)
Succeeded: Stephen (Henry II was the son of Matilda from her marriage to Geoffrey Plantagenet, and Matilda was the daughter of Henry I – therefore, Henry II was Henry I’s grandson).

Marriage: Eleanor of Aquitaine on 18 May 1152 in Poitiers Cathedral, Kingdom of France.

Coronation: 19 December 1154.

Reign: 19 December 1154 – 6 July 1189.

Death: 6 July 1189, Chinon, France.

Preceded: Richard I (his eldest surviving son).

Henry II ascended the throne on 19 December 1154, upon the death of King Stephen. According to the historian Simon Jenkins, Henry ‘had a raging temper and a taste for revenge, yet he could be calm and conciliatory, wise and dignified.’ Similarly, the renowned monarchical historian David Starkey cites Henry II as the origin of the infamous Plantagenet rage (which we shall also see in the characteristics of the majority of his descendants) and was even known to chew carpets when infuriated.

Despite being only 21 (almost middle-aged by twelfth century standards) when he became king, Henry was already well-versed in his political knowledge, having being involved in English affairs from across the channel since he had been 14 years old. Nevertheless, he still had major tasks ahead of him. Stephen’s reign had seen civil war and anarchy – and England still had to recover to an extent. Henry’s first major duty as king was to restore territories that had been lost in Stephen's reign. Almost immediately, he showed his political maturity: he managed to force Malcolm IV (the king of Scotland) to restore Cumberland, Westmorland, Carlisle and Northumbria back to the English Crown under the Treaty of Chester in 1157. This was the beginning of the restoration and expansion of what was to become the Plantagenet Empire under Henry II.

One of the main focal points of Henry II’s reign was his relationship with Thomas Becket. The pair had been friends since childhood, and by the time Henry was king, Becket was a royal advisor and diplomat. In 1158, Henry sent Becket on a mission to Paris with a 200-strong entourage which arrived much more lavishly than Henry himself did, thus suggesting the importance, respect and trust in which he bestowed upon Becket.

In 1162, Henry awarded Becket the Archbishopric of Canterbury. Becket initially refused, and his argument was valid: that one man could not be loyal to both the Church and the King. In the twelfth century, the Church was the most powerful unit in Northern Europe. However, in one of his biggest diplomatic mistakes, Henry overruled Becket, and Becket reluctantly took on the role.

Becket’s reluctance also led to his downfall: he went out of his way to ensure that he opposed Henry, who had given him the role out of friendship. Henry begun to feel betrayed, and in January 1164, he summoned a council to Clarendon, and presented the bishops with the Constitutions of Clarendon. They were a clear statement of Henry’s customary rights over the Church, and he required a promise from the bishops to observe Henry’s rights. Becket argued over the Constitutions for two days before eventually conceding.

Henry’s relationship with Becket collapsed after the Constitutions: there are contemporary accounts which tell us of Becket holding up a crucifix to Henry to remind him where his personal loyalties laid. Henry was furious, and out of fear, Becket fled to France.

Henry could have reacted instantly but instead took advantage of Becket’s disappearance and concentrated on English matters over the next five years. He successfully conquered Brittany, and also overhauled the English judicial system.

Nevertheless, the Becket saga was not over yet. In 1169, the question of the coronation of the heir to the throne was discussed – without Becket. Traditionally, this was always discussed between the King, the Pope and the Archbishop of Canterbury. When Becket found out the negotiations had taken place without him, he came back to England in 1170 with an aim to punish those who had taken part.

When Henry was informed that Becket had returned, he (allegedly) uttered one of the most famous lines in British history: “Will no-one rid me of this turbulent priest?”. Although this was likely a loose translation, it is contended that Henry stated: “What miserable drones and traitors I have nurtured, within my household, that they let their lord be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born cleric?”. Even so, the message was still clear: he wanted rid of Becket.

Or that’s what four knights sitting at the back of the room thought. As we have already seen, Henry was prone to outbursts of his temper, but unfortunately for him, the knights took him seriously. They slipped away to Canterbury, and on 29 December 1170, found Becket in the Cathedral praying at the altar. The knights (William de Tracy, Hugh de Morville, Richard le Breton and Reginald Fitzurse) murdered Becket and symbolically left him in a pool of his own blood at the church altar.

A depiction of Becket's
murder from a
contemporary manuscript
Europe was in shock. Pope Alexander III reportedly refused to speak to an Englishman for a week after he found out. Henry went into mourning for three days and was so anguished that he apparently ate his bedsheets. Perhaps the most significant element of Becket’s death was that he had been murdered in a House of God by knights – some contemporaries even saw this as worse than Judas’ betrayal of Jesus. 

This major event came to be known as the ‘Crisis of 1170’, and it dominated the remaining eighteen years of Henry’s reign. His wife, Queen Eleanor, moved to the Angevin capital of Poitiers, and – similarly to Becket – tried to undermine Henry in any way she could. One way she managed this was convincing their son Richard to pay homage to Prince Philip Augustus of France (King Louis VII’s son and heir). Henry’s position collapsed. He fled to Ireland in October 1171 and stayed there for the rest of the year in the vain hope that things would either be forgotten or forgiven.

On 21 February 1173, Pope Alexander III canonised Thomas Becket, and he became known as St Thomas Becket, and was glorified by the Church for his martyrdom. Henry knew there was no escaping the Crisis of 1170 anymore, and eventually paid penance at Canterbury in 1174. The contemporary chronicler Ralph de Diceto stated that ‘[Henry II] subjected his flesh to harsh discipline from cuts with rods, receiving three or even five strokes from each of the monks in turn…’. Henry had not only publicly paid penance, but – in an excellent propaganda move – had acknowledged his wrongdoing in the Crisis of 1170 and shown himself to repent his sins physically.

However, despite being overshadowed by the Crisis, the early 1170s were the height of Henry’s power as king on the Continent. It was at this point that he decided to partition his dominions between his sons: Henry the Young King was given his father’s (Anjou, Normandy and England); Richard was given his mother’s (Aquitaine); Geoffrey was given Brittany (the recent acquisition of 1169), but it was not until 1185 that his youngest son John was given his other major acquisition, Ireland. 

Clearly, nothing was ever going to be easy under the first Plantagenet. From 1173 onwards, Henry was plagued by his rebellious sons, who constantly argued over their newly acquired territories. What should have made matters easier was when the Young King Henry died in 1183, and Geoffrey died in 1186. However, Henry II’s favouritism of John over Richard complicated his problems further as he wanted to grant John more territory than Richard, despite the fact that Richard was going to be his heir, as his eldest surviving son.

After paying homage to Philip some years before, Richard officially made an alliance with Philip (now Philip II of France upon his father Louis VII’s death in 1179) in 1187 with regard to the crusades. This alliance also helped Richard’s position when Henry II wanted to concede Aquitaine (Richard’s territory) to John.

Henry II eventually died a miserable man on 6 July 1189 after a 33 year reign in Chinon Castle in the Kingdom of France, inundated with quarrels between his sons. But what legacy did he leave behind?

David Starkey argues that ‘Henry had remade the monarchy…Thanks to his restless energy, commanding personality and indomitable will, Henry II had made himself the greatest king in Christendom.’ This is a fair assessment of Henry II. He rescued England from Stephen’s disastrous reign, expanded the Angevin Empire in France, left behind a financially stable England for his successor Richard I, and demonstrated genuine remorse over the Crisis of 1170.

Thomas Becket’s death was clearly the main factor which puts a stain on Henry II’s reign, but he cannot be judged on this alone. In the greater picture, Henry’s achievements far outnumber his mistakes, and he was largely responsible for creating a dynasty that was to become the powerhouse of Europe over the next two centuries.


Richard I

Richard I (r. 1189-99)
Born: 8 September 1157, Beaumont Palace, Oxford, England.

Succeeded: Henry II (eldest surviving son).

Marriage: Berengaria of Navarre (the first-born daughter of King Sancho IV of Navarre) on 12 May 1191 in the Chapel of St George, Limassol, Cyprus.

Coronation: 3 September 1189.

Reign: 3 September 1189 – 6 April 1199.

Died: 6 April 1189, Châlus, Duchy of Aquitaine, France.

Preceded: John (his younger brother).


Richard I (better known as Richard the Lionheart) had spent the majority of his life living in France and travelling around mainland Europe. In hindsight this was very valuable – he was well aware that being a ruler of England meant that he ruled more than just England, and had lands on the Continent to protect and govern, too.

After being made Duke of Aquitaine in 1172, Richard spent most of his time there. In 1187, his friendship with Philip Augustus culminated in their pact to crusade together, when catastrophe hit Christendom after word was spread that the Muslim leader Saladin captured Jerusalem. Richard was the first prince in Northern Europe to ‘take the cross’ (a promise to crusade) and pledge to recover the Holy Land.

However, due to the ongoing familial quarrels at the end of his father’s reign, Richard did not set out on crusade until July 1190 – ten months after his coronation as King Richard I of England. Both Richard and Philip set out on what was to be the Third Crusade together. Little did he know at the time, but Richard did not set foot in England again until March 1194.

Despite Richard making alliances over Europe en route to Jerusalem (including his marriage to Berengaria of Navarre in Cyprus in 1191), he also made enemies. Two of his most notable enemies were Duke Leopold V of Austria and Henry IV, the Holy Roman Emperor. Richard had humiliated and insulted Leopold with regard to the division of the spoils after the Fall of Acre in 1191. He had not given him nearly as much as he should have done, and this came back to haunt him in the following weeks.

Just several weeks after leaving Acre, Richard was shipwrecked in the Adriatic Sea. He tried to disguise himself as a Templar (from the secret order of the Knights Templar), but fell into Leopold’s hands. He was left imprisoned in Dürnstein, Austria, and eventually a ransom of 35,000 kilograms of silver was paid for his release.

Although Richard was unable to recapture Jerusalem from Saladin, he still achieved arguably much more than his predecessors and successors who are typically associated with warfare, including William I (r. 1066-89), Edward III (r. 1327-77) and Henry V (r. 1413-22).

Yet Richard did not wholly lose out regarding Jerusalem. Historian Dan Jones argues that the Treaty of Jaffa (signed on Wednesday 2 September 1192) enabled the crusader states to survive for another century at least: the three-year truce meant that Saladin kept Jerusalem, but had to agree to allow a limited number of Christian pilgrims access to the Holy Sepulchre. The Christians kept everything they held between Tyre and Jaffa. Even so, the True Cross remained in Saladin’s hands.

A depiction of the Siege of Acre
from a manuscript, c. 1280
On his way back from the Holy Land, Richard was captured by Henry IV, the Holy Roman Emperor. He spent eighteen months imprisoned at Trifels Castle in modern-day Germany, from December 1192 to February 1194. Yet despite his imprisonment, prior planning had saved Richard. He had promoted the royal advisor Hubert Walter to Archbishop of Canterbury, and he successfully ran England, and quashed attempted rebellions from Richard’s younger brother John and his supporters (who attempted to overthrow Richard’s reign while he was away on the Third Crusade). Walter also raised enough money to pay two-thirds of the King’s ransom: 100,000 marks. This was roughly the same cost as a crusade.

Yet things did not go so smoothly on the Continent. Philip II had fallen out with Richard by 1192, and in Normandy (one of Richard’s dominions he had inherited from Henry II) Philip had overran the Vexin, and also came close to capturing Rouen – something which the French failed to do in completion until the Hundred Years War (1337 – 1453).

Upon his release from prison in February 1194, Richard visited England from March until May, where his brother John begged for his forgiveness over his attempted rebellions. Richard eventually forgave him, citing that John was ‘just a boy’ – he was 27 years old.

Richard returned to the Continent in June 1194, and rather than attempting to crusade again, he wisely devoted the next five years of his reign to recapturing lost territory while he had been both crusading and imprisoned. Surprisingly, Richard’s reign was a time of relative peace with Scotland – definitely something his later successors failed to achieve.

Unfortunately, gaps in Richard’s itinerary from 1194-99 make it difficult to understand where he was, although it is largely agreed upon that the majority of his time was spent in Normandy.

At the Siege of Châlus-Chabrol in Spring 1199, Richard was hit with a crossbow, while defending himself with a frying pan. Whether it was down to his arrogance of knowing he was a good fighter, or his slower reactions due to his age, we will never know. Richard tried to remove the crossbow bolt himself, but the metal stayed wedged in his shoulder, and he eventually died of gangrene after a slow and painful illness on 6 April 1199. 

Richard had no legitimate children (although he did have a bastard son, Philip of Cognac) so the Crown naturally passed onto his younger brother, who became the infamous King John.

What can we say about Richard’s reign? The fact that Richard is more often remembered by his epithet (Richard the Lionheart) rather than his regnal number (Richard I) says a lot: he is largely remembered as a crusader king. Even today, his statue stands tall and proud outside the Houses of Parliament, highlighting his importance and reputation in English history. Also, despite the fact he spent a mere six months of his reign in England, he is still very much an English king, associated with the Arthurian imagery which glorifies him as an English warrior even today.

Historians also tend to regard him highly: Dan Jones says that ‘he left [the Holy Land] as a living legend. Hated by some, revered by others, feared by all.’ Similarly, David Starkey states that ‘he was popular with his subjects and admired by contemporaries as the very model of a good king.’

This rings true: John of Joinville, writing in the 1250s said that Muslim mothers would tell their unruly children “Hush! Or I will send King Richard of England to you!”. Moreover, the early fourteenth century English Benedictine monk and chronicler Ranulf Higden cited Richard as the quintessential English hero: as precious in the memory of English people as Alexander had been to the Greeks, Octavian to the Romans and Charlemagne to the French.

To follow such a strong king as Henry II was no easy task, but Richard I managed this as if he had been born to inherit the crown. His legacy as one of the greatest kings in English history is still strong today. The same cannot be said about his successor John. More will be said about that next time though!



Further Reading

If you found this interesting, or you’d like to read more around it, here’s a list of books I can recommend. I’ve used some of them in this blog post (see the books in bold)  and cited the relevant authors where necessary. The majority of these books can be picked up cheaply second-hand from websites such as eBay, Amazon and Abe Books.

Thomas Asbridge, The Crusades: The War for the Holy Land (London: Simon and Schuster UK Ltd, 2012)

John Gillingham & Ralph A. Griffiths, Medieval Britain: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000)

John Gillingham, Richard I (Yale: Yale University Press, 1999)

Chris Given-Wilson, Chronicles: The Writing of History in Medieval England (London: Hambledon and London, 2004)

Simon Jenkins, A Short History of England (London: Profile Books Ltd, 2012)

Dan Jones, The Plantagenets: The Kings Who Made England (London: William Collins, 2012)

Dan Jones, The Templars: The Rise and Fall of God’s Holy Warriors (London: Head of Zeus Ltd, 2018)

Nigel Saul (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of Medieval England (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997)

David Starkey, Crown and Country – The Kings and Queens of England: A History (London: Harper Press, 2010)

Nicholas Vincent, A Brief History of Britain 1066-1485: The Birth of the Nation (London: Robinson, 2011)

Saturday, 16 November 2019

Welcome!

Hi folks,

Welcome to History in 20! This is the blog I’ll be updating every time I release a podcast (which you’ll be able to find on YouTube by searching for 'History in 20'). I’m hoping that there’s some interest in this blog, and I’d appreciate any feedback or comments on what I do, or if there’s anything history-related you’d like me to write a post or record a podcast on. 

My main interests lie in medieval and early modern British and European history, but I also have a keen interest in twentieth-century American history, as well as the Ming Dynasty in China – so hopefully there’ll be topics of interest for everyone!

I’m also more than happy to take requests if there’s something specific you’d like to learn about. As ever with these things, getting it out there is the hardest part. I’d really appreciate you sharing this on your social media accounts in order for as many people to access it as possible, and to hopefully generate further interest in it. 

I’ll also be setting up a Facebook page which you can find by searching for ‘History in 20’ on Facebook into your browser but there’ll be more information on that when I make the page.

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you on the next post!

Chester