Poor Pope Celestine. Being pope from 1191-1198 is a bit of unfortunate timing for anyone hoping for long-lasting historical recognition: 1198 marked tPoor Pope Celestine. Being pope from 1191-1198 is a bit of unfortunate timing for anyone hoping for long-lasting historical recognition: 1198 marked the rise of Pope Innocent III, usually cast as the high-point of the medieval papacy. Celestine's personal characteristics and circumstances didn't do him any favors either. He was very old when he became pope, and he was immediately set in opposition to Henry VI, the young and powerful king of the Germans. It's easy to cast Celestine as the feeble and ineffectual old man, the guy who vacillated and made concessions until the younger, more vibrant Innocent III stepped onto the scene. Innocent III's own biographer, in The Deeds of Pope Innocent III, told almost exactly that story, and it's been fairly accepted down to the present.
This collection of essays aims to revitalize Celestine's reputation, and it pretty much succeeds. It's hard to read through this book and see Celestine as simply a prelude to more exciting things to come. He was a cardinal for nearly half a century, and was intimately involved in the political, social, and theological debates of his time. As pope, he did much to secure papal lands around Rome and ensure papal independence despite encroaching imperial power.
The essays here range from Celestine's time as a cardinal to his relationship with Judaism or the French monarchy, to his role in changing how canonization functioned within the papal curia. They can be fairly specialized, but they're all pretty interesting if you're curious about the development of the papacy during this period....more
This is a fun biography of St. Louis. William Chester Jordan notes towards the start that it's been very difficult to write a good biography of Louix This is a fun biography of St. Louis. William Chester Jordan notes towards the start that it's been very difficult to write a good biography of Louix IX - there are loads of good books and articles on particular aspects of his reign, but there's so much to cover that it's hard to write a traditional, accessible biography. Things either get over-simplified or expanded out into multi-volume opuses. Jordan tries to harness the best of both worlds by covering all of Louis's reign, but viewing through the lens of crusading. Most of the king's actions, whether making peace with Henry III of England or revamping the crown's system of provincial administration, were undertaken to provide the kingdom with enough stability and revenue to allow Louis to head east for a crusade.
This makes for an excellent literary structure for the book, though I suppose it's possible that it overvalues that centrality of crusading to Louis's reign. He does seem to have been very, very fixated on it, though - he spent the vast majority of his reign planning for crusades that large sections of his kingdom did not particularly want him to undertake. So I don't think using crusading as a framing device distorts the overall story very much, and it allows for an informative an engaging take on Louis IX. The section on administration and the enqueteurs (sort of administrative overseers) is particularly good....more
For the longest time, I've wondered why no one has ever made a movie about the Fourth Crusade. It seems like such an obvious choice: there's drama, anFor the longest time, I've wondered why no one has ever made a movie about the Fourth Crusade. It seems like such an obvious choice: there's drama, and big and interesting cast of characters, wacky plot turns, palace coups, family drama, and all the knights and medieval-y stuff that movies like. You could probably even shoehorn in a romance without bending historical validity all that much. But reading this book, I think one of the main reasons hit home: the Fourth Crusade is horrible. I mean, sure, there are loads of parts that are rather unintentionally funny in hindsight, and on one level the whole thing reads as a comedy of errors run wild. But at the same time - and on the reality of the thing - the whole escapade is just an absolute disaster, and nearly all of its participants come out really poorly. It would make for a really depressing movie.
If you don't know the story of the Fourth Crusade, you should definitely pick up this book: it's one of those stories that's almost too unbelievable to be true, and Queller & Madden recount it clearly and accessibly, based largely off Memoirs or Chronicle of the Fourth Crusade and the Conquest of Constantinople.If you've got a free weekend, you can probably finish it off in two days or so. It'll be worth your time.
But in brief: around 1200 or so, a group of crusaders took up the cross and made plans to head east: they were initially planning on taking the Egyptian seaport of Alexandria before heading off to try to capture Jerusalem, which had recently been retaken by Saladin. The crusaders entered into a massive contract with maritime powerhouse Venice, who would provide the transport ships and naval power of their own. All went well until the group gathered in Venice in 1202 and all realized the same thing: the crusaders had drastically overestimated the number of people who would show up (medieval people and their terrible number estimations, am I right??). Unable to pay, the French crusaders made it up to the Venetians by making a detour to the Adriatic port city of Zara, which had been drifting in and out of Venetian control, and sacking the city. This was detour number one, and while it was somewhat understandable given the circumstances, still brought down an excommunication on the army from the furious Pope Innocent III.
This was where things got really weird: still rather impoverished and worried about their numbers, the crusaders were met by a rather unexpected visitor: Alexius IV Angelus, a member of the Byzantine royal family whose father Isaac had recently been deposed by his brother (Alexius IV's uncle), helpfully named Alexius III (there are more Alexii later too, don't worry). He promised the crusaders a laundry list of benefits if they'd take him back to Constantinople where he could claim his throne: reunificiation of the Catholic and Orthodox Churches, loads of money, troops, and supplies, and assistance in the Holy Land. It reads like something from a medieval fairy tale. Despite widespread distrust of the scheme, most crusaders seem to have genuinely believed that this was the best course: without reinforcements and money, the crusade was likely to fall apart imminently. Better a non-traditional crusade than none at all, especially if it meant the joint forces of Western Christendom and Byzantium heading into Jerusalem together.
Unsurprisingly, it ended poorly. After several sieges and internal coups the crusaders actually managed to install the young Alexius as emperor, but then became deeply enmeshed in Byzantine politics (which were not for the remotely faint of heart). Alexius, pressured by his subjects increasingly backed away from his promises until he was overthrown in a palace coup of his own. Desperate and feeling rather unable to do anything else, the crusaders simply stormed Constantinople, miraculously managed to breach the walls, and just ravaged everything inside. They elected Baldwin of Flanders emperor, and set up the 60-or-so-year Latin Empire. They never made it to Jerusalem.
That's a very bare bones version of story, and Queller and Madden's book does a lovely job of fleshing it out and giving the reader a good idea of how something so nuts could have occurred step by logical step, without resorting to nefarious conspiracy theories. If you're looking for a bad guy, you won't really find it here. No one has evil machinations - most major figures are well-meaning, if perhaps not gifted with a large degree of foresight. My one slight critique of the book is that it occasionally reads a bit like an apology, particularly for Venice, and I think it could be argued that more mistakes were made than is acknowledged. But at the same time I think it's point is largely right - the Fourth Crusade wasn't a conspiracy, it was the consequence of a long string of understandable, if not great, choices.
Two things really stand out: the Fourth Crusade was a story about the failure of oaths and treaties. Everything that goes wrong can be easily traced back to the first botched treaty in Venice; everything after that can be traced back to the vastly over-optimistic promises that resulted in the treaty with Alexius III. This in turn points to another problem: crusading armies were ramshackle affairs, despite attempts to control them from the top. A large part of the problems faced by the army was the simple fact that there was no way to command the entire army to do something - each lord and his following made their own calls, sometimes in reference to suggestions made by the more illustrious lords, sometimes not. Chunks of the group kept splitting off and going their own way, leaving the larger part of the host in often desperate straits.
And sadly, a large part of the problem stemmed from the fact that the crusaders and the Byzantines were divided by a persistent layer of distrust, compounded by pretty substantial cultural and political differences. The crusaders seemed rather terribly naive about Byzantine political custom, the Byzantines seemed rather arrogant and dismissive towards the crusading host.
It's the most interesting crusade story! Go read it!...more
Very good book. Jonathan Riley-Smith does a nice job debunking a lot of the more common myths about why the crusades happened. The vast majority of thVery good book. Jonathan Riley-Smith does a nice job debunking a lot of the more common myths about why the crusades happened. The vast majority of the time, Crusaders didn't head east in the hopes of getting more land, more money, or as second (or third or fourth) sons who were essentially kicked out to avoid problems with splitting up the family patrimony. Crusading was a massively expensive business, and very few people made any money off of it (most wound up having to sell or mortgage their land). Very few stayed in the east, much less got any land, and older sons went just as often as younger sons.
Instead, Riley-Smith uses an extensive investigation of charter data to figure out that most crusaders came from families that had backgrounds supporting the 11th century Gregorian reform movement or a history of undertaking (peaceful) pilgrimages to Jerusalem. These families tended to be supportive of crusader endeavors, and would help crusaders finance their trip and take care of their lands while they were away. Consequently, since the crusade was so heavily influenced by these family ties, the Latin Kingdom was frequently (and temporarily dominated) by extended family networks like the Montlherys and the Lusignans.
It's a very clear and well-documented argument. It's also better for being flexible. Riley-Smith acknowledges that the decision to go on crusade was often very personal and very impulsive, but also notes that more often than not these decisions arose in an environment that was generally conducive to them. Overall, a good (and fairly accessible) introduction if you'd like to get an idea of how the crusade movement got going and why it appealed to so many people....more
This is quite a book. And it's certainly good to read if you're looking for a good debate. I was not a fan, but to be fair, this book does have a few This is quite a book. And it's certainly good to read if you're looking for a good debate. I was not a fan, but to be fair, this book does have a few things going for it. Pegg makes some good points about the sources for the Albigensian Crusade. The fact that some historians have been rather hasty in applying sources written in northern France in the 1230s and 1240s - several decades after the crusade had begun - to the beliefs of those in the south in the late 1100s is a point well worth remembering. Pegg likewise makes an interesting study of the 'good men' and 'good women' of Occitania in the 12th century, showing that practices frequently labeled as purely heretical may have simply been a regionally distinctive social practice (though to be truly convincing, Pegg would have needed to spend quite a bit more time on this aspect of his argument, and provide a lot more documentation). While I wasn't entirely convinced by this part of his argument, it's very interesting and a valuable and astute point to raise.
But then we get to the last 3/4 of the book, which mostly consists of a narrative history of the Albigensian Crusade. To say it's polarizing would be a little bit of an understatement. First off, Pegg has a habit of attributing feelings and dialogue and scenery-setting that he couldn't possibly know from the sources to his narrative. I get that some people like that, and think that it adds momentum to the narrative, but it's one of my biggest history pet-peeves. There's really no reason to tell me how a historical figure from 800 years ago felt about something that another figure may or may not have said. The books is also highly emotive in its language, to the point of being distracting. Phrases like "God's homicidal pleasure" and "truly being like Christ involved wallowing in blood" (yikes!)are all over the place. But again, that sort of thing is largely a personal preference, and your mileage on that front may vary.
The real problem is twofold. The first aspect is the fact that Pegg seems to have a real distaste for the medieval church. That's fairly understandable! By modern standards, the medieval church did some pretty bad stuff. But if you're going to write a history in which the medieval church is a main player, it's necessary to at least attempt to understand them on their own terms. Pegg seems dead set on turning them into the villains in his story, with papal legates 'hissing' their lines of dialogue and hordes of crusaders universally driven to mass murder by 'apocalyptic exigency' after deliberately misunderstanding the faith of those in the south of France. For such a big and emotionally-charged claim, there's very little evidence outside of some monastic pro-crusade tracts, which is a shaky basis when it's being applied wholesale to the crusaders themselves. Honestly, the northern crusaders aren't terribly likeable in this period in history even if you don't demonize them, so the whole thing seems sort of like overkill.
It also ties into my second problem with the book's argument: his claim that genocide and anti-Semitism arose in the west thanks to the Albigensian Crusade. It's a tricky argument to make in any case - lawyers have had lots of fights over what exactly makes a genocide - but it's even harder here, considering how little time is spent exploring the exact motivations for the crusade among those who took part and how relatively little time is spent exploring the activities of those they attacked. The Albigensian Crusade absolutely resulted in a lot of terribly sad and needless violence, I don't think anyone would argue with that. But to position it at such an integral point in world history with the evidence presented seems somewhat over the top.
Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book as an introduction to the Albigensian Crusade. It's a bit too polarizing for that. But if it's a topic you're interested in, though, it's a provocative enough thesis that I'd definitely recommend it as a second or third look at the subject....more
Villehardouin's accounting of the Fourth Crusade falls solidly into the category of truth-is-way-crazier-than-fiction stories. The Fourth Crusade is aVillehardouin's accounting of the Fourth Crusade falls solidly into the category of truth-is-way-crazier-than-fiction stories. The Fourth Crusade is absolutely nuts, filled with unexpected detours, lost princes, and shifting alliances. If you don't know the story, it's definitely worth reading (I'm honestly kinda shocked that no one has bothered to make a movie out of it yet). Villehardouin's account of it is clear if somewhat detatched - you'll get a nice overview of what happened, but most of the main players of the story remain somewhat distant and flat. The latter half of the tale - what happens after (spoilers!) the crusaders take over and burn down most of Constantinople - is also a bit confusing for readers new to the history, filled with lots of names and places that really warrant a better map than the one provided in the Penguin edition. If you're new to the Fourth Crusade, I'd recommend reading Villehardouin's account along with a modern historical analysis of what's going on, just to fill in the details, provide additional context, and make yourself aware of some of Villehardouin's biases. Enrico Dandolo and the Rise of Venice is a good one.
I'm more partial to Joinville's account of Louis IX, even if Louis's crusade was not quite as wacky. If Villehardouin is the professional war correspondent, Joinville is the guy who can't wait to tell you all about his amazing adventures he had over in the East, from getting captured by Saracens to hearing all kinds of crazy stories about Tartars, Bedouins, and the Old Man in the Mountain. Joinville doesn't have Villehardouin's narrative clarity (he jumps all over the place and his battle scenes can be hard to follow) but he more than makes up for it in warmth and a curious eye for detail. It's most apparent any time Joinville talks about his relationship with King Louis, which has an empathy and reality to it that lots of medieval chronicle sources lack. There's this one scene where Joinville is worried that the king is mad at him for standing up to him in a council meeting and he leans through the grating of a window , only to have the king come up behind him and thank him for his honesty. There's another where Joinville mentions that when he first set out in crusade he was afraid to turn around, fearing that affection for his 'lovely castle' and children would overcome his vow to head east. There are quite a few where Louis chastises Joinville for not being quite pious enough, or Joinville tells Louis that he'll stay in his service for an extra year, but only if the king promises to stop getting mad when he asks for stuff. Joinville and Louis both pop off the page in a way that medieval people often don't in these sorts of biographies, which tended to put higher value on aligning with traditional accounts in saints' lives than with depicting flawed human beings. It makes for a hugely fascinating account , even when it's a bit garbled in terms of its narrative.
One note on the Penguin edition: the translation reads well, but could definitely have benefited from extra notes and extra maps. ...more