Coming up in a hard school, 1247

An entry in Matthew Paris's English History shows that even king's brothers might have to earn respect from other knights the hard way:

Of a tournament held at Newbury.

On Ash-Wednesday, a grand tournament was held at Newbury amongst the knights of England, to try their knightly prowess and strength; and as the king was favourable to it, it began and ended well. At this tournament, William de Valence, the king's uterine brother, a novice, conducted himself with great daring, in order to acquire a famous name in chivalry; but being of tender age, and not able to sustain the force of the hardy and marshalled knights, he was thrown to the ground, whereby he suffered considerable losses, and was well batoned, in order that he might receive his apprentisage in knighthood.

Image: A Matthew Paris illustration.

Update: A reader asks, in comments, what "well batoned" meant. To me it means that the tourneyers were using batons instead of sharp weapons. In other words, they beat the snot out of him, but not in a way that would leave permanent damage.

Update 2: Will McLean on "well batoned."

Update 3: After looking at available Latin dictionaries, classical and medieval, I think baculatus, the word Matthew Paris uses, is best translated by the phrase Will cites, "thoroughly beaten." I can't find any citations of a word in bac- that means a sword or sharp weapon.

Matthew Paris: obsessed?

A while back I noted that Matthew Paris, the 13th century English chronicler, seemed to be hung up on the words oppressions, extortions, and papal legate. And having now quickly gone through volume 2 of the 19th century edition of his English History, I now suggest that what he was really obsessed about was the subject of money. When he talks about tyranny, when he talks about corruption, when he talks about vice, he almost always follows that up with a story about money. Or occasionally, income from land. Or illegitimate taxation. Or some other kind of property.

Sometimes he'd just break into a whole riff about money, as here, where he was talking about King Louis's need for more cash in the middle of his expensive crusade:

There was now sent to him as much money in talents, sterling coin, and approved money of Cologne (not the base money of the Parisians, or of Tours), as eleven waggons, to each of which were four strong horses, could be loaded with, together with some beasts of burden by which it was carried to the sea-coast, where it was received on board some Genoese ships, to be transported to the needy king, with also no small quantity of provisions. Each waggon carried two large iron-hooped casks, prepared for the purpose, filled with the aforesaid money, all of which had been extorted from the property of the Church during a period of three years. And what end was gained by it the following narrative will fully show.

You can almost see Matthew rubbing his hands together like Uncle Scrooge about to jump into his swimming pool full of cash. Or maybe Matthew saw himself driving the wagon, cracking the whip over sweating oxen, and cackling maniacally. If these visions seem a little extreme to you, look at the Chronicle yourself. We all have our dreams, and I am sure that Matthew's were about solid, high-quality coinage, and lots of it.

Image: an English penny of Matthew's time.

The abbey of St. Albans before the Reformation

From a site devoted to Matthew Paris's home -- one of the bigger monasteries in England.

Matthew Paris really did not like the papal court

The great English chronicler and illustrator Matthew Paris is famous for his dislike of foreigners. Among the worst of foreigners were the Romans, the term he used primarily to mean members of the papal court, who used their positions to enrich themselves. In the 1250s, King Henry III of England and the Pope made an agreement which obliged Henry to conquer the kingdom of Sicily at his own expense; which would eliminate the Pope's most dangerous enemies. No one in England thought this was a good idea, except perhaps the King and the son that he was going to put on the Sicilian throne. Matthew Paris's reaction is a great example of his scathing anti-foreigner rhetoric.

In consequence of this [agreement], the Pope's messengers vied with one another, as it were, in coming to England to the king, for the purpose of carrying off his rich presents; for they smelled the sweet savor of his money from afar.

A few pages later, Paris illustrates "Roman" greed:

Master Berard de Nympha, native of the suburbs of Rome, died suddenly about the same time. He was a crafty and wealthy man, had been a clerk of Richard Earl of Cornwall, and had extorted money from the Crusaders on various specious pretexts. Amongst his goods was found in a coffer choose one of blank sheets sealed with the bull [the most important papal seal], which might be filled up at pleasure and applied to any misuse, such as fraudulently extorting money from the poor as if by authority of the Pope.

At first, Matthew's Chronicle struck me as pretty tedious, but it got better as it went along. There's a rhythm to these things, and it eventually caught me. Paris could write almost as well as he could draw.

A Matthew Paris illustration, mid-13th century

Just for the heck of it -- the French defeat at Gaza.

Some of Matthew Paris's favorite words

Extortions, oppressions, legate.

There's always a bad papal legate practicing extortions and oppressions.

Image: A legate at work, drawn by Matthew Paris.

Military ordinances in St. Louis's army in Egypt, 1250

I am currently writing a book about Charny's Questions on War, which are concerned with resolving conflicts between men at arms according to the laws of arms. One thing that I have learned in the process of researching this book is that the law of arms as Charny saw it, and not just him either, was not the same as the rules for disciplining and managing an army. These rules were called ordinances, and they concerned such things as discouraging theft and fights within the army.

Today I was reading Matthew Paris's English History, an abbreviation of his Chronica Majora, and found a perfect example of the scope of ordinances. It also illustrates very nicely the potential for conflicts within armies, especially when high-ranking men from a variety of countries were in the same host.

This example comes from Paris's account of the crusade of St. Louis, King Louis IX of France, and it can be found in Matthew Paris's English History translated by J. A. Giles 2: 354-5. It concerns an English nobleman named William Longuespee who is campaigning with the French crusading force in Egypt, in 1250. He learns that merchants are passing near the crusading force, carrying luxury goods and necessities of life, which the Crusaders are short of. William attacks and successfully brings home the goodies. But the French (whom Matthew Paris famously despised) are not exactly overjoyed.

The French, who had remained inactive, and were in great want, stimulated by feelings of envy and avarice, met him, on his arrival, in a hostile way, and, like daring robbers, forcibly took from him all that he had gained, and imputing it to him as a sufficient fault, that, in his rash presumption, contrary to the King's order, and the ordinances of the chiefs of the army, and also to military discipline, he had proudly and foolishly separated from the whole body of the army.

Later William Longuespee goes to complain to King Louis of France; before they are done speaking the King's brother, the Count of Artois who "was the head and chief of this violent transgression and robbery," came in ranting about the evil actions of William. Among his complaints was this passage:

This man, in contempt of you and the whole army, urged by his own impetuosity, has of his own accord clandestinely carried off booty by night, contrary to our decrees; and owing to this, the fame of him alone, and not of the French King or his people, has spread to all the provinces of the East; he has obscured all our names and titles.

The end of the episode is interesting. King Louis refuses to do anything about the situation, excusing himself to William by saying "thus easily can a quarrel be originated, which God forbid should occur in this army. It is necessary at such a critical time to endure such things with equanimity, and even worse things than these." William, in contempt of Louis's supine (sensible?) attitude, leaves the army and goes off to Acre.

Image: Matthew Paris praying, as drawn by himself.