78: Louis VI “The Fat”

Now back to France, where we will remain for the foreseeable future. Seriously. I’ve gone in-depth on the expansion of French people for quite some time; first into England, then southern Italy, across the Mediterranean and finally in Western Asia with the First Crusade. This is because the French were a highly-populous, martial people who for centuries had a weak central government. Without strong leadership to unite the French towards a great military cause, individuals and bands joined up with regional lords to pursue glory and wealth. However, this period came to an end with the rise of the strong Capetian monarchs.

My plan moving forward is to chart the rise of the strong Capetians from Louis VI to Philippe II, the latter of which destroyed the Angevin Empire, broke off Normandy from England, and made the French monarch the undisputed strongest figure in the kingdom. Afterwards we’re going to circle back and look at the history of Normandy, then Anjou and the west, then the south, up to the year 1214. Then, after the political stuff, we can look at culture, religion, society and daily life in the medieval kingdom.

            Today’s story focuses on Louis VI. Louis VI was born in late 1081 in Paris to King Philippe I and his first wife Bertha of Holland. Philippe I would go on to repudiate Bertha, claiming that she had grown too fat, among other things. Likely this was just an excuse for the king to dismiss the noblewoman and marry Bertrade de Montfort, whose dowry included a castle he very much wanted. For this, the church excommunicated him. However, Bertha died in 1094 and Philippe I made a public display of penance before the pope, which was enough to secure the king’s marriage to his second wife.

Whether this unsanctimonious love triangle had any impact on Louis VI is hard to say. Despite papal attempts to enforce the sanctity of marriage, French kings had a habit of dismissing wives they had grown tired of. If Louis VI learned anything from his father, it was probably that the crown needed to engage in perpetual war with the Normans and their own vassals for dominance of the north. Under the reign of Louis VI’s grandfather, Henri I, the royal domain was a small teardrop on the map of France, comprising Paris and a few noteworthy cities. However, Philippe I had managed to expand his power to rival that of the King of England and Duke of Normandy, Guillaume the Conqueror. As Louis VI grew he aimed to continue his father’s work of furthering the preeminence of the throne.

As a youth, Louis VI was tall, handsome and strong. He enjoyed all the manly pursuits expected of French nobility at the time, with a particular fondness for hunting. Louis VI was a real prince charming, though his body radically transformed over the course of his reign. He became remarkably fat by the age of 38. At the age of 46 he was so large that he could not even mount a horse. Given his fondness for physical activity, it is likely that his obesity did not just stem from overeating, but from physical problems, such as gout, arthritis or injuries sustained from battle.

His appearance dramatically changed as well. Early in his reign Louis VI fell gravely ill. His illness has often been attributed to his mother-in-law Bertrade trying to poison him to make way for one of her own sons to ascend the throne, though without clear evidence we cannot be sure. Louis VI recovered but he was forever pale. From the picture of health in his youth, Louis VI became the specter of death as he aged.

Speaking of age, during Louis VI’s youth, the aging Philippe I did everything he could to associate his firstborn son with the kingship. He had him knighted in 1098, then he served as a representative at Henri I’s coronation as King of England in London on Christmas Day, 1100. Finally, Philippe I arranged a marriage between Louis VI and Lucienne of Rochefort, the daughter of his seneschal. A seneschal was the head of the military and generally considered the second-highest political office under the king, behind the chamberlain, though this was not a fixed hierarchy. Louis VI’s marriage to the daughter of a minor lord in the Île-de-France demonstrates just how low the monarchy had fallen. While a powerful king might expect a foreign princess, or even an emperor’s daughter in marriage, Louis VI had to settle for a woman who was far less exotic. It is very possible that Philippe I agreed to the marriage, not just because of the political weakness of the monarchy, but also to safeguard the precarious position of his son. While Louis VI was the only son of Bertha of Holland, Philippe I had two sons through his second, still-living wife Bertrade de Montfort. There was always the possibility that the Queen of France or any of her two royal sons might form a conspiracy to seize some power, if not the throne itself, from Louis VI. Thus, for the security of the royal domain and of Louis VI’s own prerogative, Philippe I forced him to wed Lucienne.

While the marriage made political sense, Louis VI’s heart was not in it. In 1107, as Philippe I lingered on death’s doorstep, Louis VI dismissed his wife on the grounds of consanguinity. Pope Pascal II had to accept the prince’s demand for an annulment of the marriage, as he was even then taking refuge in France as the Holy Roman Emperor warred in Italy. Philippe I could only watch as his son undermined his careful political plans. On 29 July 1108 Philippe I passed on and his son Louis VI ascended to the throne at the age of 27.

Louis VI’s reign got off to a rocky start. Unlike many of his forebears, he was consecrated at Orléans, rather than at Reims, due to an ongoing dispute he had with the archbishop. Additionally, Louis VI had to fight his way to the coronation against his half-brother Philippe, who tried to bar the way to the city. In response, Louis VI besieged Philippe’s castle, forcing him to submit, though Philippe would repeatedly rebel against his king until at least 1123.

            Over the course of his reign, Louis VI faced two primary political problems: the Anglo-Normans and the petty nobles of the Île-de-France. To the immediate north was the Anglo-Norman kingdom ruled by Henri I. Just before Louis VI ascended to the throne it looked as if Robert Curthose might take Normandy, breaking it off from England. Yet, in 1106, Henri I won the Battle of Tinchebray, captured Robert and took control of all the former possessions of Guillaume the Conqueror. King of England, Duke of Normandy, and suzerain of many territories within France, Henri I was a powerful enemy.

            Near the beginning of Louis VI’s reign, Henri I seized the castle at Gisors, along the borderland, claiming it was his right. In response, Louis VI called up his vassals and attacked the castle. The two sides fought to a standstill and Henri I agreed to tear down the stronghold, a promise which he never kept. Following this opening of hostilities, Henri I constructed a line of fortifications across Normandy. While Henri I was technically Louis VI’s vassal due to being the Duke of Normandy, he was also his equal as King of England, and he refused to pay homage or otherwise acknowledge Louis VI’s overlordship. As such, the two kings fought on and off throughout their reigns.

            Louis VI’s fight with the Norman king was not an easy one though. While he held off his enemies by 1113, he had to recognize Henri I as overlord of Maine and Brittany. Yet, Louis VI did get a powerful ally in Guillaume Cliton, son of Robert Curthose and claimant to the Duchy of Normandy. Beginning in 1118, Cliton led his first rebellion against his uncle.

With Cliton stirring up trouble up north, Louis VI and his half-brother, Foulques V Count of Anjou, invaded. On 20 August 1119 Henri I’s Anglo-Normans encountered the French army. According to the chronicles, scouts from both sides advised their kings not to give battle, but the monarchs were too stubborn. Louis VI opened the Battle of Brémule with a cavalry charge that the unbreakable Normans absorbed with ease. Louis VI ordered another charge, which was also dealt with. In the ensuing combat the Anglo-Normans beat back the French. This humiliating defeat secured Henri I’s northern border and reestablished him as the most powerful lord in Northern France.

            Henri I was in a remarkable position in 1119. He had defeated the King of France in open combat and forced his rebellious nephew to flee Normandy. In the aftermath, Louis VI called upon Pope Callixtus II to negotiate a peace. The two kings agreed to give back everything they had taken, save Gisors, which Henri I held. Another important condition of the peace was that Henri I’s only legitimate son, Guillaume Adelin, would pay ceremonial homage to the King of France, and in exchange Louis VI would recognize his right to the succession of Normandy. While the Anglo-Normans nominally recognized Louis VI as their superior vis-à-vis Normandy, this was purely ceremonial, and did not include normal feudal obligations such as raising troops. Normandy was independent in all but name.

            On 25 November 1120, with Normandy secured, Henri I sailed back to England. A number of important nobles boarded ships to follow in his wake. One of these ships, was the Blanche-Nef, the White Ship. According to the chronicler Orderic Vitalis, the crew members asked their patron, Guillaume Adelin, for wine before their voyage. The prince granted their request and many of the sailors became significantly inebriated by the time of departure. While the prince and many nobles saw no problem with an intoxicated trip across the Channel, Étienne of Blois wisely decided to wait for a more sober ship to take him over.

            According to Orderic Vitalis, once the drunken sailors set sail they boasted that their fine, new ship, could catch up with and even pass the vessel that carried the king. Overconfident, the ship’s captain steered the boat right into a rock, causing it to capsize. Roughly 300 passengers drowned that night, leaving only a single butcher from Rouen alive to swim back to shore.

Henri I arrived on the southern coast and waited for his son and vassals to arrive as he sipped wine and ate the best fare medieval England had to offer. It could not have been more than a few days before the Norman King of England grew worried. However, it was not unheard of for ships crossing the Channel to get lost in fog or for the current to cause ships to drift off course. So, Henri I waited, nervously. When his advisors learned of what happened they initially feared telling the king the bad news. When they finally informed the king that his only legitimate son, two of his illegitimate children, and numerous nobles died when the White Ship sank, Henri I collapsed on the spot.

The death of Guillaume Adelin was a personal tragedy for Henri I and a political nightmare for England and Normandy. Without a clear heir to the English throne, Henri I had to pick from his surviving children to inherit his lands and titles. He eventually chose his only legitimate daughter Matilde, as his heir. While Henri I lived, this was not a problem, though the Norman lords, who maintained Salic law, hesitated to support a woman’s rule. When Guillaume Cliton heard the news he rejoiced, claiming that he was by right the next in line for the Duchy of Normandy. Henri I’s tragedy was a gift to both Cliton and Louis VI, the latter of which renewed hostilities with the Normans to place an ally in the duchy.

Henri I was being picked apart on all sides. He faced rebellion within Normandy led by Cliton, invasion by Louis VI and an uprising in Wales. Yet, the beleaguered king had the most powerful ally in Europe. Over a decade earlier, Henri I had married his daughter Matilde to the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich V. Henri I asked Heinrich V to invade eastern France and give him some room to breathe. Heinrich V agreed, as the Holy Roman Empire and France were rival powers who struggled for dominance over border territories, namely the County of Flanders. If Heinrich V could weaken Louis VI directly then he could dominate this small territory.

            In 1124 the Emperor raised an army and marched on Reims. As he did, the King of France sent out a call throughout the kingdom to his vassals to render their services and defend the country from foreign invasion. Louis VI then led this force north to meet the Germans. The French encountered the Germans before they could move on Reims and prepared for battle. Yet, when Heinrich V saw the size of his enemy’s army he retreated.

            The bloodless standoff between the Emperor and the King of France was a massively important symbolic event in the history of Western Europe. The Capetians had been notably weak kings, little more than northern lords. Yet, Louis VI drew forces from across the country, giving him a force on par with the Emperor. Louis VI was by no means an absolute monarch; he still had to face rebellious petty nobles within his own territory. Yet, he successfully faced off against the King of England and the Holy Roman Emperor, something which his predecessors had struggled to do.

            Wracked by tragedy and attacked on multiple fronts, Henri I managed to hold Normandy against Louis VI and Cliton. Yet, while Cliton could not take the duchy, an opportunity opened to take a county. In 1127 the County of Flanders was ruled by Charles, known as “the Good,” so-called because he generously provided food to the peasantry and opposed nobles who price-gouged the poor. Perhaps no family took advantage of the poor more than the Erembalds, who the Count severely punished. You can guess where this is going.

            On 2 March 1127, 30 conspirators in service to the Erembalds entered the church of Saint Donatian in Bruges and cut off the count’s head. The brutality of this act, committed inside God’s house, outraged the people of the city who forced the Erembalds to take refuge inside the nearby castle. Louis VI led an army to support the revolt, which successfully broke inside. The French and Flemish seized the Erembalds and hung them from the tallest tower. Those who cried out for mercy were granted it: in a fashion. Rather, than a slow hanging, they were cut loose. One of the conspirators briefly escaped, only to be recaptured. His punishment was to be tied down and left for crows to eat out his eyes. When he finally died his body was then thrown into a sewer.

            King Louis VI did not invade the neighboring county purely out of a sense of justice. The County of Flanders was usually allied with the Kingdom of France and served as a powerful counter to the Normans. His army behind him, Louis VI asked the Flemish nobility if they would accept Guillaume Cliton as the new count. He was, after all, a nephew of Charles the Good, and therefore had a legitimate claim to the territory. None of the Flemish nobles felt like fighting the French and so they acquiesced.

            As soon as the King of France’s armies left Flanders, Flemish nobles conspired against Cliton. Backed by Henri I, they rallied behind Thierry of Alsace, another nephew of the former count. By 1128, Cliton was reduced to the southern fringes of the county. The would-be count rallied his forces and besieged Aalst. During the siege Cliton was wounded in the arm. The wound became gangrenous and he died shortly thereafter, at the age of 25. King Louis VI had been too busy putting down his own rebellious nobles to aid his ally in Flanders. The young man’s death was a small setback for Louis VI and a welcome reprieve for the King of England.

            The same year that Louis VI lost his most loyal ally, his greatest enemy secured a historically-important marriage alliance. Emperor Heinrich V was dead, and his wife Matilde had birthed no children. With nothing tying her to Germany, Henri I’s only legitimate child moved back into her father’s domains. The King of England then had her wed Geoffroy Plantagenêt (in English Geoffrey Plantagenet), heir to the County of Anjou. This posed an enormous danger to the King of France down the line, as any heir the children had was set to inherit the Kingdom of England, the duchy of Normandy, the County of Anjou and overlordship of Maine and Brittany, making them, in effect, the overlord of northern and western France. Louis VI continued his border skirmishes with the Anglo-Normans until near the end of his life, knowing that his own successor might face an even stronger enemy than he had contended with.

            When Louis VI was not fighting his Norman neighbors he was warring with petty lords within the royal domain. These barons, some of which controlled only one castle, were a serious headache for a king who wanted to consolidate power. Just going from Paris to Orléans was a struggle as lords along the route could exact tolls from travelers. By the end of his 29-year reign, Louis VI had successfully cowed the barons through continual warfare. His strategy was to pose as France’s greatest justice. Whenever a lord infringed upon another’s rights, or the rights of the church, Louis VI would then call the offending lord to court. If the lord did not show up, that gave the king the excuse to go to war, which he usually won.

At times Louis VI could show mercy, but he was not above using scorched earth tactics, torture and other brutal means of subjugation. In one instance he had a tower set on fire. When those inside jumped out of the burning building they landed on upturned lances. According to historian Jim Bradbury, when one of the king’s vassals was killed at La Roche-Guyon, “the killers and residents were mutilated, disemboweled, and thrown from the tower on to lances.” The leading killer’s heart was cut out and put on a stake. “Children were cast headfirst on rocks, and bodies thrown into the Seine to float into Normandy as a warning.” These violent acts had their intended effect and most lords hesitated to cross the king. In this way, Louis VI gained control of more castles and established himself as the great power within his domain and beyond.

            Hugues III du Puiset was one of Louis VI’s most steadfast enemies. He regularly plundered lands near his territory, and in 1111 invaded Chartres. Thibaut IV, Count of Blois, tried to fend off Hugues III but failed. In desperation, the count turned to the king and asked him to intervene. Hugues seized church land and had been excommunicated, which was more than enough justification for Louis VI to move against him. The king summoned Hugues III to court, which the unscrupulous baron promptly ignored, and then went to war.

Louis VI besieged Le Puiset, sending carts filled with wood, dried blood and animal fat against the walls to be set on fire. This succeeded and Hugues III retreated to the keep, which also fell. The king’s men captured Hugues III and put him in chains. Hugues III begged forgiveness and swore an oath of obedience. Once he was released, Hugues III immediately betrayed his oath, plundered the countryside and rebuilt his castle. Louis VI had to war with him for another six years, capturing him yet again. This time, not only did Louis VI destroy the castle but he also filled all the nearby wells. At some point, Louis VI released Hugues III, who left France for the Holy Land, dying in 1132.

            Louis VI’s most strident enemy among the barons was unquestionably Thomas, Lord of Coucy. Historians have gone a long way towards disabusing the notion of a historic ‘Dark Age,’ but if ever there were a family that embodied that notion, it was the Coucy, at least, according to the admittedly, biased chronicles. Their enemies described them as ‘wild beasts,’ something which they probably would have taken as a compliment. Their fortress was covered in lion imagery. They regularly plundered the countryside, assaulting, raping and murdering innocents, even holy men. Those they captured were tortured to death, usually by hanging from their testicles, with Thomas himself personally stringing people up. The Coucy warred against the king, bishops and even each other. Thomas warred against his father and both attempted to have the other assassinated. Thomas even slit the throat of his relative, the archdeacon of Laon. The Coucy were frequently excommunicated, though the specter of eternal damnation had no impact on their conduct. Their house motto stands as a testament to their defiance:

            “Neither king,

nor prince, nor duke, nor count am I,

            I am the Lord of Coucy.”

            Thomas came into conflict with the crown in the year 1111 due to events at Laon. The people of Laon rose up against their ruler, Bishop Gaudry, and formed a commune, that is a local government. Louis VI initially supported the commune, but then reversed his decision the following year. Outraged, the people of Laon stormed the episcopal palace, searching for the bishop. The angry city-dwellers eventually found Gaudry hiding in a wine cask, which in hindsight, is a pretty stupid place to hide: after all, even if the people don’t suspect someone is hiding in there, they are definitely going to end up opening it. As soon as the men found him, they split his head open with an ax. Wine and blood spilled across the floor together. Then, the people stripped his body and dragged it through the streets.

Thomas took advantage of the chaos, declared he was on the side of the uprising and seized Laon. These actions prompted Louis VI to raise an army and restore order in the city before any more wine could be wasted. The King of France defeated the Lord of Coucy, taking two of his castles and an indemnity payment in exchange for the latter’s freedom. As you may expect, Thomas did not reform his wicked ways and continued to ravage the countryside. In 1130 the Count of Vermandois moved against Thomas. The Lord of Coucy received a mortal blow on the battlefield and died in prison.

            Louis VI’s many wars with the petty lords were a success. He seized castles for the crown and made safe the routes from Paris to Orléans and Chartres. This was especially beneficial to the central government, since it meant that the king could collect more toll money. More money meant better roads and bridges. Paris thrived as a hub for commerce and Louis VI oversaw the building of new bridges and a new market in the city.

            France grew under Louis VI, culturally and economically. Louis VI enfranchised many serfs, who became more productive when they could farm their own plots of land rather than working primarily on another’s. Cities grew and trade flourished. The king also favored the growing city-based merchant class as a counterweight to local lords. They paid him handsomely in exchange for privileges.

            Communes had already begun appearing in the late 11th century but became increasingly common during Louis VI’s reign. Louis VI regularly supported the communes as a check on the power of local lords, and in turn they supported the king, politically and financially. Aside from the communes, Louis VI drew support from the church. He patronized monasteries and churches. He supported schools in Paris that drew great scholars such as Anselm, Abelard and Guillaume de la Porée. Unlike his father and great-grandfather, who were excommunicated by the pope over their marriages, Louis VI had a great relationship with the pope. While the popes and their allies warred with the Holy Roman Empire over the Investiture Controversy, Louis VI regularly gave popes sanctuary and political support.

            Among the most important aspects of Louis VI’s reign was his civil administration; the boring work that makes everything possible. Louis VI took an active role in administering justice, overseeing cases of homicide, treason, theft and rape. Additionally, he oversaw cases of forgery, usury and those that impacted royal income, such as fishing in the Seine. All this work paid off as it impressed the power of the crown on the people and it meant more wealth directly entering royal coffers.

At this time, the actual civil government was pretty small and was little more than the king’s household. Positions included the chamberlain, who administered finances and oversaw the royal chamber, the seneschal, who led the royal army and chancellor who wrote official documents. Alongside these were a number of lesser offices which included clerks, notaries, chaplains and minor chamberlains.

Louis VI wisely chose to appoint administrators from the lower nobility, which he could effectively control. However, even those of the lower aristocracy still had high ambitions. For twenty years Étienne of House Garlande served as seneschal and chancellor. Étienne married his niece to another noble and promised to make him seneschal once he retired. This outraged Louis VI, who declared that his underlings served at his pleasure and could not pass on their offices. In response, Étienne led a rebellion, which was supported by the King of England and the Count of Blois. Louis VI prevailed and he forced Étienne to submit by 1132, and even allowed him to continue work as a chancellor, though he never regained his lost power.

One of Louis VI’s most important advisors was Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis. Suger wrote a glowing biography for his patron, called “The Deeds of Louis the Glorious,” however, at some point the Latin word ‘gloriosus’ became ‘grossus,’ hence ‘Louis the Fat.’ Both words were accurate, because even though Louis VI did become enormous in old age, he was a very important monarch. Among other things, he sponsored the reconstruction of Saint-Denis, turning it into the royal necropolis. In the process, this important building helped launch the Gothic style of architecture.

            In late 1135 the aged and bloated king marched to war against the Count of Blois. Far from the strong, handsome young man that he had been, Louis VI was by then enormous and pale. During the campaign he fell ill with dysentery and feared he would die. Yet, his old body fought off the illness and soon he heard the news that Henri I, King of England, had died. While the late King of England had tried to secure his daughter’s ascendance, many Norman nobles balked at a woman ruling over them. England and Normandy entered a nearly two decade-long period of military strife known as ‘The Anarchy,’ which greatly benefitted the French kings.

            Louis VI got one final stroke of luck at another’s expense in 1137. That year, the Duke of Aquitaine lay on his deathbed. As his last wish, he asked the king to safeguard Aliénor, his eldest daughter and heir to the duchy. Louis VI leapt at the opportunity and prepared his own son, Louis, to marry her. With Aquitaine added to the royal domain, the King of France would more than double his land and emerge stronger than any Capetian had ever been.

            That year, Louis VII again fell ill. Knowing death was near, he determined to spend the rest of his remaining days appealing to God. He confessed liberally and put on a monk’s habit. In his final hours he ordered a carpet laid out with ashes arranged across it in the shape of a cross. He laid on those ashes, arms stretched in replication of the suffering of Jesus, and died on 1 August 1137. He was either 55 or 56 years old. Afterwards his body was moved to Saint-Denis.

            Louis VI was an important king in the history of early France. As with all preceding Capetians, he faced an uphill struggle against vassals who were even more powerful than he was. Yet, he managed to hold his own against the great lords and subdued the lesser ones. Furthermore, his successful administration ensured greater order for the royal domain and more money into the coffers. He controlled his household and was one of the few early Capetians to have a good relationship with the church.

            To understand his impact on France, we must turn again to his most famous chronicler, Suger, abbot of Saint-Denis. When Suger wrote about France he used a number of different Latin words to describe it, including regnum, patria, Francorum and Franci, the last referring to the French people. When he started writing, he used the term regnum to refer to just the royal domain. Later on, it became a more nebulous concept referring to the assumed rights of the king across the country. By the end of the book, regnum came to mean the entire Kingdom of France.

It’s not just France that expanded in Suger’s writing, but the French as well. In the earliest pages Suger refers to the Franci of the Île-de-France in contrast to the Normans and other neighbors in hostile territories. By the end of the work, the French people have expanded and encompass the Kingdom of France, with the possible exception of Normandy, whose Normans were often still considered a separate, independent people.

From the earliest pages of history that cover Louis VI’s reign, this king expanded the regnum of France and the scope of French people. There was still a long way to go before France became unified under one strong leader, but Louis VI played a major role in making that happen.  

Sources:

The "Regnum Francie" of Suger of Saint-Denis: An Expansive Ile-de-France

Jim Bradbury, The Capetians: Kings of France 987-1328, 2007.

Normandy, France and the Anglo-Norman Regnum, C. Warren Hollister, Speculum, Vol. 51, No. 2 (Apr., 1976), pp. 202-242.

"Partout la figure du lion": Thomas of Marle and the Enduring Legacy of the Coucy Donjon Tympanum, Richard A. Leson, Speculum, Vol. 93, No. 1 (JANUARY 2018), pp. 27-71.