Tag Archives: eleanor of aquitaine

Medieval Monday – The True Story of Richard and John

Here’s a bit of real history for you in honor of the release of the first book of my Medieval romance trilogy, The Loyal Heart.  The underlying history of the trilogy surrounds the years from 1191 – 1194 when King Richard I was fighting the Crusades and then getting his butt captured and held for ransom while his brother, Prince John, schemed his little schemes back home in England.  Sound familiar?  Sound like one of the most classic tales of all time?  Think you already know what happened in this chapter of history?

Chances are you have it dead wrong.  Why?  Because the Robin Hood story is one of the most grievously falsified accounts of what things were actually like in all of the annals of popular history.

Here’s how things really went down….

Henry II was one of the most powerful and effective kings in English history.  He ruled from 1154 – 1189 and he made England into a strong, wealthy, powerful kingdom that encompassed most of the British Isles and a huge chunk of France.  Like many Medieval lords, he had a plethora of sons.  Five, to be exact.  And keeping with the common trend of Medieval monarchs, his sons were always trying to overthrow him.

Henry II, Rock Star King

Richard was son #3.  He was also a total mama’s-boy.  He lived in his mother’s duchy of Aquitaine and didn’t speak English.  But that was just fine since he was never going to be King of England anyhow.  His older brother Henry was already pre-crowned king, as was the practice back then.  John was the youngest son.  When he was born his mom pretty much packed him up and shipped him out to be raised in foster care.  However, John was his father’s favorite.  When all the rest of Henry’s sons kicked up a fuss and tried to overthrow him John either stayed out of things or stuck by his father’s side.  And then the unthinkable happened.  Three of Henry II’s older sons died young, leaving only Richard and John left.

A couple of the sources I’ve read over the years suggest that Henry really just wanted John to be king.  He thought he was the better man for the job.  The fact that he spoke English and lived in England while Richard lived in Aquitaine and only spoke French helped.  Henry gifted John with all sorts of land and estates and territories and responsibilities in England.  One of those parcels of land that was given to John directly was Derby, where my novel takes place.  So to answer the questions you might ask as you read through it and think “wait, would John have had authority to do that?”, the answer is YES, yes he would.  You’ll know what I mean when you get there.

Henry II's Family Tree. That's John way over on the right as the youngest.

As history would have it, when Henry II died, Richard became king.  But Richard was still in Aquitaine.  Furthermore, he had more interest in raising an army and marching off to fight in the Holy Land than he did to go to London to assume his throne.  In fact, he tried to sell London to pay for his crusade.  There were no buyers.  But he did sell various lands, offices, appointments, titles, and Scotland.  (Well, he allowed the Scottish king to pay him a huge chunk of change to be released from his duties of fealty)  He also tried to bribe John into leaving the country, living in England’s French territories, while he was away because he knew that given half a chance John would march in and take over.

Richard I, Not So Awesome After All

And that’s exactly what John ended up doing.  Richard left a handful of advisors in England to manage things in his absence.  Half of them died and the other half spent all their time bickering with each other.  So to keep things from going you-know-where in a handbag, the Queen Mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, convinced Richard to let John go back to England and sort things out.  Which he did.  And he did it well.

Not to give too much away, but in “Act Three” of my novel certain characters are involved in a plot to assassinate Richard on his return to England.  If you’re tempted to think “wait a second, that seems a little far-fetched”, then think again.  John was deeply involved in figuring out ways to get rid of his no-good, absent, expensive brother so that he could legitimately take charge of England.  That is to say, so he could take charge of the parts of England that he wasn’t already responsible for managing as the lord who owned them.  And yes, there were all sorts of spies and nefarious characters within the royal household who were more than happy to get the job done.

But then the unexpected happened.  On his way back from the Crusade Richard was captured in Venice.  He ended up in the hands of Henry III, Holy Roman Emperor.  Henry III was more than happy to ransom Richard back to England … for 150,000 marks.  And if that figure doesn’t make you blink, consider this: 150,000 marks was twice the gross national product of England for a year.  Well, being mama’s-boy, Queen Eleanor demanded that the people of England, from the tip-top to the dregs at the bottom, pay 25% of their income to the ransom.  And yes, folks, that’s where the term “a king’s ransom” comes from.

Well, in 1194 Good King Richard returned to England.  For 3 months.  He whined and complained about the weather (in French) the whole time.  And he raised taxes to pay for another war in Normandy.  So when you read any version of the Robin Hood story and hear about taxes being raised and people being squeezed dry, it wasn’t John who was responsible, it was Richard.

Richard didn’t have any children.  It’s because he was gay.  And while that doesn’t bother me too much, I’ve also heard reports that he was a pedophile.  But I can’t find any sources to confirm that.  But he was most definitely gay.  So when he died in 1199 after spending ten years as king of England (ten months total of which he spend on English soil) John became king.

King John of England, Magnificent Monarch

Guess what?  John was a great king.  He was powerful, a good administrator, and a forward-thinker.  True, he lost a lot of the English possessions in France.  But he also founded the English navy.  And we all know what the English navy turned into.  He also put the English treasury back in the black.  And he was responsible for the Magna Carta, which is widely regarded as the foundation of modern democracy, including the U.S. Constitution.  Now I hear those of you who know something about history balking and arguing that the Magna Carta was put into place because the English barons wanted some form of protection against the excesses of the crown.  True, but the barons had been unruly and out of control for a long time due to Richard’s absence and the chaos it caused.  They needed reining in but they didn’t like it.  The fact that John could navigate his way around a bunch of rebellious vassals and still maintain his power was pretty special.  John was a good king.

However, in the words of A. A. Milne which I memorized when I was a small child, “King John was not a good man/ he had his little ways/ and sometimes no one spoke to him/ for days and days and days.”  Okay, I can be a King John apologist about a lot of things, but even I will admit that from all reports it looks like personality-wise John was a douche.  Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.  But I’ll confess that I did make him into a nice-ish guy in my novel.  Eh, historic license.

So there you have it, folks.  You have been re-educated.  Robin Hood was fighting on the wrong side.  The truth of this chapter of history is what inspired me to write The Noble Hearts trilogy.  Yes, I borrow elements from that legend, but I would like to think that I show them for what they really were.  John’s supporters in England were not only just doing their job, they were supporting stability and peace.  Those who were loyal to Richard were loyal to a fairy tale.  But you’ll just have to pick up a copy of my book and read for yourself to see.

 

Medieval Monday: Writer Girls

The Middle Ages.  They weren’t what you thought they were.  Welcome to Medieval Monday, in which I employ my two History degrees and irritation about the misconceptions of Days of Yore to bring you topics about an era you only think you know.  You ain’t seen nothin’ yet….

Writer Girls

In last week’s Medieval Monday blog I wrote about women who ruled.  Yes, contrary to popular belief, there were women in the Middle Ages who held positions of power and were able to exercise authority independently over vast kingdoms.  They weren’t the only ones who had power in the Medieval and Renaissance worlds.  I spent some time talking about one of my personal favorite women of history, Catherine of Aragon.  Catherine was a highly educated woman who made the education of all women of means a fashion.  But it might surprise you to know that some women were well-renowned for their mental and creative prowess.  To you my fellow writers out there, these are our predecessors.   Before J.K. Rowling, before Jane Austen, there were Hildegard of Bingen, Christine de Pisan, and Veronica Franco.

Hildegard of Bingen lived from 1098 to 1179 and was, frankly, awesome.  When most people think of this High Medieval time period they think of Crusades and Cathedrals, Knights and Popes.  But while men were bashing each other and getting into trouble Hildegard was well on her way to becoming a Renaissance Man long before the term even thought of being coined.  A contemporary of Eleanor of Aquitaine, she was a German nun who was not only elected to lead her own abbey, but founded two others as well.  She was a leading authority on medieval medicine and science, a prophet and visionary or sorts, and a poet and composer.  In fact, some of the oldest surviving Medieval mystery plays were composed by none other than her.  These sorts of plays would be performed in song in the great cathedrals of the day on holidays and special occasions.  So not only was she a precursor to the likes of Shakespeare, she laid the foundation for composers from Bach to Mozart.

What impresses me the most about Hildegard is how far her reach extended.  In addition to science and the arts she was also a skilled political scientist.  Her opinions and advice were sought by kings, emperors and popes.  Not quite the damsel in the tower that some historians picture Medieval women to be, eh?  This woman had serious clout.  But what also impresses me is how feminine her views of things were.  The visions she shared were of a loving God, a distinctly feminine mysticism that was a far cry from the Medieval Church’s lofty God sitting in judgment.  She was a smart woman but a woman still.

Hildegard is just one outstanding example of a common theme in the Medieval world.  Women in the Church were some of the most learned and influential people in the world.  The Church was tantamount to a kingdom within all kingdoms and nuns had the potential to be just as powerful as their male counterparts.  It wasn’t a world of complete equality, but it was far from all doom and gloom for the “weaker sex”.

Centuries later this trend of near equality of learning would take a turn for the proto-feminist in Christine de Pisan.  Christine lived from 1363 to about 1430 and lived most of her life in Paris and later at the abbey of Poissy.  She became a writer as a way to support herself and her children after her husband’s death.  Think about that for a second.  A woman in 14th century France supported herself by her writing.  Many of us can’t even claim that today, but here was this woman in the late Middle Ages making her way with her pen.  She composed vibrant poetry of love for her deceased husband as well as allegorical and autobiographical works.  I particularly love the title of one of her works, The Book of the City of Ladies.  More than just that, she was known as a scholar and people, men-type people, would come from far and wide to study with her as documented in the following contemporary picture:

What makes Christine’s works particularly remarkable are that she was bold enough to take up her pen and write in defense of women, who were often vilified as seductresses, particularly in one work, The Romance of the Rose.  Christine defended women … and her books sold.  Her views wouldn’t be considered radical by modern standards, but in a world where men hold most of the cards and women had to fight hard and loud to be heard she managed to stand out and make her points known.  Women like Christine really drive home to me how much of history is shaped by the voices of a few.  Perhaps Jean de Meun, the author of The Romance of the Rose, was a bitter git with a stick up his butt because he couldn’t convince the woman he wanted to succumb to him.  That’s total speculation, by the way, but it makes you think.  Who were these people who wrote such vitriol and gave women a bad name?

Another woman who fought back against the male conventions of the day, the Venetian Renaissance day that is, was a personal favorite of mine, Veronica Franco.  And okay, the first knowledge I had of the lovely Veronica was from the fantastic movie Dangerous Beauty (which, by the way, I highly recommend, especially if you have a thing for Rufus Sewell).  But the facts are the facts.  Veronica Franco lived from 1546 to 1591 and she was, without a doubt, fabulous.  She was a Venetian courtesan of the highest order.  This meant she was highly educated and had access to the minds of the most important men in Venice as they had access to her body.  Whereas Hildegard was a bit of a prude, as much as I love her (she was violently opposed to lesbianism and masturbation) and Christine was more of a proper, well-mannered noblewoman, Veronica plumbed the whole depths of the human experience.  Not only was she well-known and published, her books were endorsed by prominent men of Venice, and when she was put on trial for witchcraft (which was common if you were a prostitute in 16th century Venice) several of the noblemen of Venice came to her defense and the case against her was dropped.  And that’s not just the climactic scene of the movie either.  That actually happened.  It’s just a shame that all of Veronica’s patrons died before her and she was left in poverty before her own death.

So there you have it.  Long before the Brontes and Emily Dickenson and Sylvia Plath these women who have unfortunately been obscured by time and history chosen by a few men rocked the intellectual and literary worlds.  It makes me wonder what other great women could have made their mark on the ages if their voices hadn’t been filed away in abbey walls and castle shelves.  For surely if these three women could rise above the prejudices of the times to make their voices heard through the ages there were other women equally as gifted.  I’m glad that we at least have these 5%ers to remind us that women did more than sit around looking pretty in castles with long, pointy hats.

But of course in lower classes they did much more than that….

Stay tuned.

Medieval Monday: Girl Power

The Middle Ages.  They weren’t what you thought they were.  Welcome to Medieval Monday, in which I employ my two History degrees and irritation about the misconceptions of Days of Yore to bring you topics about an era you only think you know.  You ain’t seen nothin’ yet….

Girl Power

In one of the most breathtaking scenes from a movie that I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, Cate Blanchet as Elizabeth I makes the transformation from desperate young monarch to ass-kicking icon of leadership and invincibility.  If any given person knows anything about History at all they usually know that England’s Elizabeth I was one of the most powerful and long-ruling monarchs ever.  But Elizabeth I was just one in a long line of women who ruled and, unfortunately, have been neglected by the men who wrote the History books.

Long before Elizabeth I massive amounts of Medieval butt-kicking was done by one of my favorite women in History, Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Born in around 1122, Eleanor dominated twelfth century Europe.  She was married to both the king of France and the king of England (um, though not at the same time, of course).  She was the mother of two kings and two queens as well as several counts and countesses.  But in her own right Eleanor was Duchess of Aquitaine, a title she inherited at age 15.  This made her so powerful that the king of France came knocking on her door to get her to marry his son Louis in an effort to make the French throne more powerful.  But Eleanor retained Aquitaine for herself as part of this marriage, meaning her property did not automatically become her husband’s property upon marriage like you might have expected.  And when she and Louis later divorced in a mutual agreement of mutual disgust and loathing she kept her title and her lands.

Eleanor then married Henry II of England.  Henry II was a rock star in his own era.  And Eleanor was the perfect rock star’s wife.  Their relationship was loud, passionate, and ended with Henry locking her in a tower.  Okay, well, not exactly.  But she was imprisoned in various locations around England for the last decade or so of Henry II’s life.  Why?  Because she had encouraged her two favorite sons, Richard and Geoffrey, to join the fight against their father.  This was a woman who dove deep into politics.  When Henry died, Richard ascended the throne of England.  But in complete contradiction of the Robin Hood legend Richard didn’t speak English and couldn’t be bothered to actually go to England for more than a few months.  So who should take over and rule as regent in his place?  Eleanor, of course.

Eleanor wasn’t the only woman who ran things on the home front while the male ruler was off fighting some Crusade or another, getting themselves killed or captured.  In fact, in the Middle Ages women quite frequently wielded political power and took up arms themselves when their male relatives were busy arguing about succession.

Constance, Queen of Sicily ruled the Holy Roman Empire from 1191-1198.  Unlike many other women of her era, she didn’t marry until she was 30.  Why should she?  She was the daughter of the King of Sicily and beloved aunt to the various young men who succeeded him.  She was supposed to ascend to the throne herself upon her nephew’s death, but another male relative swooped in and usurped the throne.  So what did she do?  She grabbed her sword and marched out with her new husband, the future Emperor Henry VI to take it back.  She joined the campaign herself, slowed down only by the birth of her son, the future Emperor Frederick II.  Constance was 40 when Frederick was born.  She knew that because of her age people would question whether he was truly her son.  Her solution?  She had the baby in a tent pitched in the middle of the marketplace with as many of the matrons of the town present as possible to witness the birth.  Damn.  And she returned to the market to nurse the baby in public to continue to prove she was his mother.  When Henry in 1197, Constance saw to it that her three year old son was crowned king of Sicily.  It’s just a shame that she died a year later in 1198.  Who knows what she would have been able to accomplish if she had lived longer.

Another contemporary of Eleanor and Constance who wielded far more power than you might think was Melesande of Jerusalem.  When the Franks captured Jerusalem in 1099 after the First Crusade Melesande’s father was elected king.  Melesande was raised as a crown princess, her father’s chosen successor.  Because the territories around the Holy Land in this era were in a constant state of warfare, Frankish women were frequently named successors because they had a higher life expectancy.  Melesande was no exception.  Her father, Baldwin II, deliberately sought someone to marry her who could protect her and maintain her right to succeed the throne.  He chose a little too well.  Fulk V, was more than happy to marry Melesande … and to seize the reins of power when Baldwin died.  But Melesande didn’t lay down and surrender and weep in a tower with a pointy hat as some people think princesses do.  Oh no.  She gathered her supporters and went Medieval on Fulk’s ass.  Not only did she regain her power and her kingdom, but it was said that Fulk wouldn’t even make the slightest decision without her say.  Melesande continued to rule until her son was 24 and she retired with a failing memory, eventually dying of a stroke.  She ruled one of the most contentious pieces of the Medieval world for 30 years.

And though she comes much, much later, I can’t talk about women who wielded power in the Medieval world without mentioning Catherine of Aragon.  True, it was technically the Renaissance when she came on the scene, but she was amazing.  Catherine was married to two Tudors, Arthur, the heir apparent, and after his death to Henry VIII.  Known nowadays mostly for being on the wrong end of Henry VIII’s “Great Matter”, Catherine was far more awesome than most people give her credit for.  She was educated and beautiful.  She was also Spain’s ambassador to England, the first female ambassador in history.  She loved Henry, and for a while the feeling was mutual.  Henry even left her in charge of England as regent for six months while he was in France.  She was influential in matters of state and in life.  During her time in power it became fashionable for women to receive an education.  Yes, women.  Fashionable.  In the early 1500s.  It’s a terrible tragedy of history that she was unable to give Henry a male heir.  But the people of England continued to love her, and despise Anne Boleyn, long after Henry divorced her, and she was widely mourned at her death in 1533.

There are so, so many more women who held power in the Middle Ages that there just isn’t time to list them all.  These four are but a tiny glimpse into a world where women stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the loftiest men in the realm.  True, women did not hold an exactly equal position in this time period.  These women were exceptional.  Many of those who recorded the history of this time period assigned a lower status to women.  But history is written by the victors.  The fact that women like Eleanor, Constance, Melesande, and Catherine were able to achieve such great heights indicates that it wasn’t completely unheard of.  I tend to think that the subjective truth of history is buried forever behind the closed doors of the home.  Just because they were medieval kings, lords, or knights doesn’t mean men of the era didn’t love their wives and trust their judgment or ask them for advice when curled up in bed together after a long day of international politics.  Historians don’t record those things, just as the History books will never be able to report on the late-night chats Barak and Michelle must have.  And as we will see in future Medieval Mondays, a woman didn’t have to be married to a king, count, or prince to play a pivotal role in her society.