83: Destroying an Empire, Uniting a Kingdom

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            Historians use the term ‘Angevin Empire’ to refer to the combined territories under the power of the Count of Anjou. Yet, this empire was anything but. It was not unified linguistically. In the southwest of France they spoke Occitan, Basque or any number of regional languages and dialects. In the northwest the people spoke Breton, while in the core of the north they spoke the langue d'oïl, which eventually became French. This is to say nothing of the English, Welsh and Irish territories.

            The Angevin Empire was also not united ethnically, culturally or historically. Its governments were devolved to local rulers acting on behalf of their sovereign. Their administrations varied widely, though at times the different regions influenced each other. A notable example of this was when Guillaume the Conqueror invaded England in 1066 and brought with him the Normans’ excellent record-keeping, a connection which lasted through to the Angevins.

However, the various parts of the Angevin Empire had none of the connective tissue one expects of a country. It was nothing more than a collection of territories brought together through the personal power of its supreme overlord. This also meant that the Angevin Empire was only as strong as its leader. Under Henri II the Angevins were the dominant power in France due to his energetic and adaptive rule, combined with support from his powerful wife Aliénor. Henri II was only defeated when his son Richard I rebelled against him. The Lionheart was ferocious in battle, an intelligent strategist and politician, though his temper usually got the better of him. Richard I was a strong ruler. After leaving Germany, he rebuilt the empire following his little brother Jean’s defection and Philippe II’s seizures of territory.

When Richard I died the empire passed to Jean. Jean was the weak link of House Plantagenêt. He was cruel, conniving, unable to inspire love but a consistent target for ridicule and disgust. Jean was first nicknamed ‘Lackland,’ given his small inheritance and the petty territory he received while his older brother took the throne of England. As a lord of a small region, he never learned the necessary skills to rule over a large country, much less an empire. While Richard I was imprisoned in Germany, Jean gave away Angevin territory to the King of France in exchange for military support. This outraged Jean’s would-be vassals as Jean had given away land, some of it theirs, and opened up the country to attack by an enemy all for his own benefit. At the very least, if Jean had tried to seize the throne on his own, he would retain some respect from his inferiors; that Jean was a traitor and impotent without Philippe II’s support earned him complete contempt from the lords of England and France… which ties in to his second nickname: ‘softsword,’ an insult to his martial abilities as well as his manhood.

Finally, Jean further disgraced himself in the war against Philippe II. After Richard I brought him to heel, the Lionheart agreed to give his little brother territory in exchange for military service. Jean was neither a strategist, commander or fighter on par with the kings of France and England. Instead, his major triumph was through deceit. At Évreux he pretended he was still in service to Philippe II and the French guards let his men into the fortress, at which point Jean slaughtered them. Afterwards, Jean invited more unsuspecting French lords to meet at Évreux where he killed them as well. Such heinous acts gave Jean an abysmal reputation among his enemies and vassals alike.

Unlike his predecessors, Jean was no match for the King of France, who quickly succeeded in destroying the Angevin Empire. There’s a reason why there has only ever been one English king named ‘John,’ as his name is associated with disaster. In fairness to Jean, he seized power at a relatively low point for the Angevins. Richard I successfully retook most of the territory lost to the King of France, but in doing so he had run up enormous debts. Now it was Philippe II who had better financial standing. Philippe II was able to pay for the best mercenaries and more of them, alongside bribing those castellans in border territories to defect to his side.

The issue of succession also weakened the empire’s new ruler. Jean claimed that on his deathbed, Richard I named him heir to the empire, rather than Arthur of Brittany. Unfortunately for the lords of the Angevin Empire, there was no way to vote for a third-party candidate and so they were stuck with two bad options. Either they could go with Jean, who nobody liked, or Arthur, who was 12 years old and under the power of the King of France. Arthur had the better claim, but the Angevin lords feared that he would be Philippe II’s puppet. The aristocratic strategy since the beginning of the medieval period was to play their more powerful lords against each other. If Philippe II became the undisputed hegemon of France he could abuse any vassal who displeased him. Tellingly, most of Jean’s supporters only rallied behind him because their fear of Philippe II outweighed their hatred for him. Quite a start to a reign.

When Richard I died on 6 April 1199, Jean sped to Normandy, whose lords declared him their duke on 25 April 1199. Baldwin of Flanders was also present and paid homage to Jean as he hoped to strike an alliance against the French throne. Jean then sailed for England and was crowned king on 27 May. In his absence, Philippe II recognized Arthur’s claim to Brittany, where he was already the duke. Furthermore, he recognized Arthur’s right to Anjou, Maine and Poitou, lands which comprised most of the Angevin territories in France, save for Aquitaine, held by the aged Aliénor, and Normandy, which Philippe II aimed to conquer.

It’s worth noting that Aquitaine became something of a special region at this time. Before, it was firmly part of the Angevin Empire due to the Lionheart’s personal connection to it. Richard I’s first major title was Duke of Aquitaine and he made sure to frequent the region throughout his life. In contrast, Jean barely spent any time there, leading the Aquitanians to distrust him. For that reason, Jean made a deal with his 75 year-old mother which made her its de facto ruler even as she nominally pledged to be his vassal. Meanwhile, Philippe II believed the region was too distant to conquer and never seriously committed to taking it. While neither king attempted to control Aquitaine, the reasons for doing so are very telling. For Philippe II, it was prudence as he did not want to overstretch himself. For Jean, it was weakness as he could not even control territory which was supposed to be under his authority.

As Jean consolidated his power, Philippe II went on the offensive. He ravaged territories on the border with Normandy as he marched west to attack Maine, ostensibly on behalf of Arthur. Philippe II then made the mistake of razing Ballon, which the knight Guillaume des Roches claimed was under his jurisdiction. The King of France dismissed Guillaume’s protests, stating he could do as he wished. Aghast, Guillaume switched sides, leading Jean to name him seneschal of Anjou, Maine and Touraine. As other powerful lords rallied against Philippe II, more than for Jean, the King of France decided not to press his luck.

In May 1200 the two signed the Treaty of Le Goulet, which was an enormous win for Philippe II. The King of France abandoned all support for Arthur and agreed to recognize Jean as the inheritor of the entire Angevin Empire. However, Jean had to pay a hefty price just to hold on to his own titles. First, he had to pay 20,000 pounds sterling at a time when Philippe II’s finances were stable and his own were dwindling. Jean recognized Philippe II as his overlord for his possessions in the Kingdom of France; effectively, when Jean was in England he was a king and Philippe II’s equal, while in Normandy he was a Duke, in Anjou a Count, and in both cases he was Philippe II’s inferior and vassal. Third, the King of England had to break off ties with his allies the Holy Roman Emperor and the Count of Flanders, the latter of which reverted his vassalage to the King of France. Finally, Jean had to give up a number of border territories with strategically important castles that controlled the roads from the royal domain into Normandy. Take a guess where this is going. The Treaty of Le Goulet was a remarkable showcase of how, for the first time, House Capet was in a dominant position against House Plantagenêt. Just to maintain his own power, Jean had to give up land, money, alliances and recognize Philippe II as his overlord while in France.

            The two kings finalized the agreement with a marriage alliance between prince Louis and Blanche of Castile, the King of England’s niece. The two twelve year-olds were married immediately and sent back to the royal court in Paris. While arranged marriages between children often don’t last, this one proved to be incredibly fruitful, figuratively and literally. The two respected, trusted and loved each other. Blanche birthed 14 children and she never remarried following her husbands’ death.

            Calm settled over the Kingdom of France as the two sides sheathed their swords. Jean toured his continental possessions, at one point stopping by Paris where Philippe II welcomed him with gifts. However, peace never lasted long in the medieval period. Philippe II regularly toured his new northern possessions as he planned his grand invasion of Normandy. All he needed was a legal excuse to go to war.

            In true medieval fashion, the great war between kingdoms erupted due to romantic problems. Previously, in 1188, Jean married Isabelle of Gloucester, a Norman noblewoman whose family had established a powerbase in England. This was a convenient alliance for the young lord as he sought to expand his power on the island nation. However, by 1200, Jean was firmly in control of England. Now he needed more forces on the Continent to counter Philippe II’s growing power. During his summer tour, Jean met Isabelle of Angoulême, and by all accounts the girl left a remarkable impression on him. I say girl because she was 12 while he was 35. Her family was based in the west, near Aquitaine and as such any marriage alliance would give him a foothold over his far-flung territories. In August, Jean secured an annulment from his first marriage and replaced the old Isabelle with a new one.

            Jean’s love affair had horrendous blowback. Before being swept up by the king, Isabelle had been betrothed to Hugues of the nearby House Lusignan. Lusignan was one of the major noble houses in French politics; in fact, its patriarch was even then the King of Jerusalem and Cyprus. Back in France, the Lusignan family had remarkable power in the west. Their territories essentially divided Aquitaine in the south from the other Angevin holdings in the north, though this had never been a problem before because they had been loyal allies of Henri II and Richard I.

            When Jean married Isabelle of Angoulême it troubled the Lusignans, but they still had hope. Kings often made a habit of choosing whoever they wanted to wed, even if it upset the marriage plans of a lesser house. To pacify the offended house, a king would offer land, titles or monetary compensation. When the Lusignans asked Jean how he would repay them for subverting the important marriage alliance, Jean responded by seizing their lands. Jean’s two-faced dealings infuriated many lords who saw the King of England as a tyrant who would arbitrarily seize whatever he wanted without regard to the law or traditional aristocratic rights. House Lusignan defected to Philippe II and begged him to protect their lands from Jean’s abuse.

            If Philippe II had a tail it would have been wagging like crazy as he listened to the emissaries from House Lusignan imploring him to invade his enemy’s territory. Fortunately, Philippe II was not part dog and so he maintained a calm demeanor. The King of France was intelligent enough to recognize that being the most powerful man in the kingdom was not enough; if he wanted to hold on to any new territories he might acquire he needed to convince their subjects that he was a just ruler who obeyed the law. King Philippe II summoned Jean, the Duke of Normandy, to the royal court in Paris to answer for his crimes. Jean refused the summons, claiming that the dukes of Normandy had a special relationship with the kings of France and would only meet on the border of their lands; a statement which hadn’t been true ever since Jean’s grandfather answered a summons to Paris, but whatever. Philippe II shrugged and then summoned Jean, Count of Poitou. Jean refused to be treated as an inferior to a fellow king and would not go to Paris. In his absence, the court found count, duke, king, whatever Jean was, guilty of violating the law, which gave Philippe II the excuse to go to war.

            French forces rapidly moved into Angevin territory taking many small border areas. Philippe II came upon his first major challenge at Gournay. What followed was a showcase of engineering brilliance and ruthlessness which demonstrated that the invasion had been thoroughly planned for years. Historian Jim Bradbury writes,

            “The castle of [Hugues] de Gournay was defended by a stone wall and a deep moat filled with water from the River Epte. Near the wall had formed a great lake, like a stagnant sea enclosed by an embankment. [Philippe II], using a kind of engine to cut into and perforate the rampart, pierced the surrounding dyke so that the water rushed out, ‘as turbulently as where the Rhone joins the Saone’. The landscape became a seascape, water covering fields, houses and vineyards, uprooting trees in the flood. People fled for the higher ground. The waters smacked into the rampart and destroyed the castle in moments, so that [Philippe II] was easily able to take it.”

            The French army then led a rapid invasion of the north, which caught Jean so off-guard that the Angevins had to abandon their camp, leaving tents, food, money and siege engines behind. While Philippe II struck north, Arthur of Brittany led a rebellion in the west. Now 15 years old and legally a man, Arthur led a mainly Breton force southward. The Bretons linked up with an army led by House Lusignan and besieged the castle at Mirebeau to capture the aged Aliénor of Aquitaine.

            Jean’s empire looked on the point of disaster. Yet, the English king managed to pull off a spectacular feat. Fleeing the French forces, the Angevins force-marched to Mirebeau, travelling 80 miles in just two days. The Angevins took the Bretons completely by surprise; lord Geoffroi of Lusignan was still eating his breakfast pigeon when the hostile force arrived. With nowhere to run, Arthur surrendered, alongside the leading members of House Lusignan.

            Jean’s victory at Mirebeau should have reset the war. With the western leaders captured, Jean could have focused his full attention on Normandy, where he should have been equal to Philippe II. But that did not happen. While Jean won a major battle, his subsequent cruelty outweighed his martial success. Jean had his nephew Arthur killed. At least, that’s what everyone thought. We don’t actually know what happened to Arthur; he simply disappears. However, given that he was Jean’s hostage everyone suspected that he had executed the boy.

            If Jean wanted to kill his nephew for power then he was living in the wrong era. I’ve already noted how Clothar I and his grandson Clothar II executed his child-relatives without much controversy. The Germanic culture that predominated in the early medieval period valued force above all else. However, with the Christianization of European culture, violence had its limits, or at least had to be justified. Germanic culture allowed for multiple wives and thus many offspring, but a Christian culture enforced monogamy (mostly), and each lord had few children. As such, each (male) child was highly valued because they could not be easily replaced. Christianization caused a paradigm shift in European culture as aristocrats expected certain rights to security. Finally, the increased power of the church meant that bishops could pressure nobles who did not hold themselves to Christian morality.

Jean’s already awful reputation took an enormous hit. Traitor, coward, murderer and now kinslayer. If Jean had only been brutal to his enemies he likely would have kept many vassals on his side. Yet, by despoiling the property of House Lusignan he showed that he would not uphold the rights of his own subjects. The execution of Arthur was the final straw that convinced many aristocratic houses in Anjou and Poitou to defect to Philippe II. Meanwhile, the Bretons were furious that Jean had killed their duke. Even some English lords openly condemned Jean’s actions.

Of those who didn’t switch sides, many decided not to get involved in the conflict at all. During that time, Pope Innocent III was organizing the Fourth Crusade to retake the Holy Land. Many knights used the holy war as an excuse to avoid fighting for their sociopathic overlord and instead go east and fight for new sociopathic overlords. Jean made matters worse when he released the leaders of House Lusignan, believing that his show of leniency would engender loyalty. Yet, Lusignan did not forgive or forget his betrayal and immediately continued the fight against him.

            In 1203 Philippe II led a new invasion of Normandy. Along the way numerous castles surrendered without a fight, despite having ample resources to withstand a long siege. Those fortresses that did not surrender were isolated, cut off from reinforcements and resources and quickly fell. Central to the entire campaign was the seizure of Château Gaillard at Les Andelys. Château Gaillard was the greatest of all the castles constructed under the Lionheart’s reign. Perched high above the Seine River on a hill with a steep incline was the white stone keep. Three concentric walls with evenly-spaced round towers crowned the hill. These round towers were among the first in France. Before, the Normans built their fortifications in squares, the easiest shape to build. Yet, advancements in siege warfare, namely the trebuchet, forced Europeans to build rounded towers which could better absorb the impact of projectiles.

            Beneath the main fortress was a wall that stretched to the river. Bridges connected it to the west bank, allowing for resupplying, reinforcement and sorties by the defenders. The fortified bridges and a nearby dike prevented besiegers from accessing the Seine, even as the defenders could draw on ships sailing up and down its waters. Gaillard was a wonder for its time. It was immense and had natural geographic advantages, such that the Lionheart remarked that he could defend the fortress even if its walls were made of butter. Richard I loved the castle so much that his later charters contained the phrase, “apud Bellum Castrum de Rupe,” Latin for, “at the Fair Castle of the Rock.”

            Château Gaillard was Richard I’s response to Philippe II’s grand castle, the Louvre. The Louvre, with its high walls and rounded towers, defended Paris at a time when the powerful Angevins threatened the French capital. The Lionheart made Château Gaillard when the roles had reversed, and the Norman capital of Rouen needed an indestructible shield against French aggression. All sides understood that to control Château Gaillard, was to control Normandy.

            Philippe II led a massive army to the castle, prompting its defenders to destroy the bridges and retreat behind the walls. The French set about controlling the river. They built a makeshift bridge out of a series of boats, complete with towers to protect the besiegers from enemy projectiles.

            As the French settled in, Jean ordered a simultaneous attack from a land and naval force. However, Mother Nature doesn’t care about human plans, and tides kept the fleet from sailing upriver. The Angevin army launched a surprise night attack on the French and were massacred. The following morning the naval force arrived. The French fired arrows, stones and wooden beams at the ships. One courageous, and probably stupid, Frenchman swam across the river to an island fortification held by the Angevins with vases containing Greek Fire tied to his body. What followed was an explosion like a volcano erupting, and the encampment fell.

            When news spread that Jean’s main army was in tatters, more houses switched sides. With no reinforcements to threaten them, the French army could remake the landscape at will. Soldiers cut down forests for siege engines, fortifications and housing. Much like Caesar at the Battle of Alesia, it was as if the besiegers built a fortress around the one they were attacking.  

            With defeat seeming inevitable, things took a drastic turn. Historian Jim Bradbury writes that the garrison’s leader, Roger de Lacy,

            “sent out hundreds of people, including women and children, so that there would be fewer mouths to feed. At first some of those expelled were let through the French lines, but then several hundred were refused, and had to try and survive in caves for months, trapped between the two forces, living on scraps and grass. One was a pregnant woman who gave birth in this no-man’s land. When a chicken was dropped by accident from the castle walls, the poor outcasts fell on it and devoured it completely, feathers and all. [Philippe II] from the bridge later heard the cries of these abandoned unfortunates, and was moved to sympathy on learning of their plight. He gave orders that they should be fed and allowed to go through the lines. One man emerged clutching the skin of a dog, which he refused to give up because it was the only thing which had kept him alive. He relinquished it finally with reluctance in return for bread, which he stuffed greedily into his mouth, but was scarcely able to swallow.”

            The King of England knew that he could not face the King of France in open combat, but perhaps through guile he could save Normandy. Jean led a force to Brittany which sacked the town of Dol, even burning its cathedral. Yet, Philippe II would not be distracted. If anything, Jean only made his position worse through the atrocities committed against his own subjects. Facing enemies on all sides, Jean sailed back to England on 5 December, 1203.

            Early the following year, the French advanced into Château Gaillard. In February knights posted siege ladders against the walls, only to find that they weren’t tall enough, forcing them to use swords and knives to carve footholds in the stone. With their makeshift steps, the soldiers entered the outer wall. Next, a band of soldiers climbed up a garderobe chute, which if you don’t know castle jargon, is a long vertical shaft with a hole at the top for people to relieve themselves into. The knights navigated walls covered in human waste and emerged stinking into a chapel. From there they opened the secondary walls. Finally, on 6 March 1204, the defenders in the keep surrendered. The Lionheart’s impregnable fortress had fallen to his archenemy.

            Victory at the Fair Castle of the Rock sent shockwaves through Normandy. Everywhere Philippe II went towns surrendered to him, even those guarded by titanic fortresses. Simultaneously, the Bretons took advantage of Normandy’s weakness and took Mont St. Michel, which they still claim to this day is rightfully part of Brittany, not Normandy, official maps be damned.

            Philippe II arrived at Rouen in late May after linking up with the Breton force. Initially, the defenders pledged to surrender the city if no aid came within 30 days. Philippe II granted the request, knowing that Jean was too afraid to challenge him. He didn’t even have to wait a whole month to take the city, as its demoralized defenders opened the gates on 24 June. For three centuries Normandy had been a fiercely independent territory ruled by the descendants of Vikings. The populous and warlike people defied French kings and directly threatened the royal domain. After three hundred years the region was now directly under the control of the king in Paris. Normandy was only the first and greatest of the Angevin territories to fall. Philippe II and his mercenary armies overran Anjou and much of the west.

On 1 April 1204, shortly before Rouen’s fall, Aliénor of Aquitaine died, having lived around 80 years. Philippe II declined any invitations to press his claims to Aquitaine, choosing instead to consolidate his power in the north. In the meantime, Alfonso VIII of Castile claimed that Gascony in the southwest, was his by right of marriage. Alfonso VIII launched a three-year-long campaign to take the territory, which failed, though the destruction it wreaked further weakened what was left of the Angevin Empire.

            Ignoring the south, Philippe II conquered the rest of the north, seizing Maine and Brittany. In mid-1206 Jean landed near La Rochelle to begin his reconquest. The English forces defended Gascony then turned north. While they secured Aquitaine and Poitou, Philippe II’s presence at Anjou forced a settlement. In the ensuing truce, Jean agreed to surrender the entire Angevin Empire’s territories, leaving him with only Gascony and part of Poitou. Seven years previously, Richard I had ruled over half of the Kingdom of France. Under Jean it was reduced to a small pocket in the southwest.

            Philippe II easily earned his place as one of France’s greatest kings for smashing the Angevin Empire. Philippe II became the first Capetian to dominate the Kingdom of France. Before him, kings were only the equal of the great magnates; sometimes not even that. Philippe II’s victory simultaneously elevated him above all other lords and diminished his greatest rival to irrelevance within the kingdom.

            There were many reasons why Philippe II succeeded. He was patient, having campaigned against the Angevins for two decades. He was a brilliant politician who forged alliances and deterred potential enemies. He was a capable administrator, whose reforms brought in more revenue for the crown, eventually enabling him to outspend his rivals. He was also a major military reformer, using trebuchets, Greek Fire, more advanced siege equipment and more widespread use of crossbows, alongside organizational changes.

            Of all the reasons Philippe II succeeded in establishing his power over France was his gravitas. Humans are interesting creatures, who are often moved by the intangible, rather than the real. To ensure loyalty, respect and love a leader must cultivate a public persona. Philippe II spent his life creating an image of himself. He was strong, personally leading forces against upstart nobles and enemy kings. He was devoutly religious, leading an army in the Third Crusade and returning with relics from the Holy Land. He was a lawful monarch who respected the rights of his vassals. He sponsored communes and earned the love of the rising bourgeoisie. He was merciful in victory. Philippe II’s supporters loved him, his enemies respected him and very few hated him.

            Jean was everything that Philippe II was not. He was an undistinguished military leader. He was not particularly charitable or observant, with some, admittedly biased records, claiming he openly blasphemed and doubted Christ’s resurrection. He ruled arbitrarily, stealing land, women and titles from those who refused to obey his demands. Jean killed his enemies through deceit and subterfuge. He massacred innocents and slew his kin. He betrayed his oaths and killed his own subjects. Outside of his small inner circle, Jean was hated by all and respected by none.

            Jean’s capture of his nephew Arthur should have been the turning point in the war with Philippe II which would stabilize the Angevin Empire. Jean’s assassination of Arthur was as diabolic as it is puzzling. It is clear that Jean feared a rival for the Angevin throne and so wanted him eliminated. However, there was a better way to go about it; there was a model for how to deal with upstart noble family members. That model…was Jean! While Richard the Lionheart was imprisoned in Germany, Jean claimed the throne for himself. When Richard I returned he resumed power, beat Jean into submission, but ultimately forgave him on the condition that the errant lord fight for him. If Jean had just repeated what his older brother had done to him he might have retained control over the empire, but Jean was not the Lionheart. He was Lackland, he was Softsword. He possessed neither the strength to fight multiple enemies, nor the heart to forgive, nor the wisdom to understand the consequences of his actions.

            Philippe II was, in the minds of many contemporaries, the model of what a king should be, while Jean was everything that he shouldn’t. Philippe II turned defeat into victory, while Jean did the opposite. When these two forces met an empire fell and a kingdom arose in its place.

Sources:

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

Jim Bradbury, Philip Augustus: King of France 1180-1223, 1998.

John W. Baldwin, The Government of Philip Augustus: Foundations of French Royal Power in the Middle Ages, 1986.