Royal Succession in Capetian France: Studies on Familial Order and the State (Harvard Historical Studies) [1 ed.] 9780674779853, 0674779851

Citation preview

Harvard Historical Studies

Published under the direction of the Department of History from the income of the Paul Revere Frothingham Bequest Volume G

Royal Succession in Capetian France: Studies on Familial Order and the State

rf 5 Andrew W. Lewis

Harvard University Press Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England 198]

JM 25°05 «Lee c.3

re ance |

Lewis, @eindrew We, lS4s~ ROY al SUCCeSssian in Cage tian,

Bia Nea Site Sn a an ath

Copyright © 1981 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Lewis, Andrew W., 1943—

Royal succession in Capetian France.

(Harvard historical studies; v. 100) Bibliography: p. Includes index. 1. France—Kings and rulers—Succession. 2. France—

History—Capetians, 987-1328. I. Titles. II. Series.

JN2375.L48 944’.02] 81-6360 ISBN 0-674-77985-1 AACR2

FOR MARTHA P. B. LEWIS

BLANK PAGE

Acknowledgments

During the preparation of this study, I have benefited from the assistance of many persons and the support of numerous institutions, to whom grateful acknowledgment is made. Giles Constable read the

entire work in original draft and again in revised form, giving me invaluable aid with both. Charles T. Wood, Elizabeth A. R. Brown, and David Herlihy read the revised manuscript and made numerous extremely helpful suggestions. Georges Duby most kindly listened to me, read drafts of several of my central theses, and offered me guidance on a number of essential points. The late Jean-Francois Lemarienier introduced me to the literature on feudal inheritance and by his wise counsel steered me away from several major errors. For other comments and assistance I am indebted to John W. Baldwin, Lester K. Little, and Gabrielle M. Spiegel. Research in France for this study was supported by a James B. Reynolds Foreign Study Scholarship from Dartmouth College, a Christopher M. Weld ‘Traveling Fellowship from Harvard University, and a grant from the American Philosophi-

cal Society. During that research, I benefited from the kindness of many archivists. I gratefully thank the directors and staff of the Bibliotheque Nationale at Paris; the directors and staff of the Archives Nationales at Paris, and especially Lucie Favier; Mr. and Mrs. René Giraud, directors, and Jacqueline Granier, associate director, of the Services d’Archives of Nord; Pierre Bougard, director of the Services

d’Archives of Pas-de-Calais: Odile Grandmottet, of the Institut de Recherche et d’Histoire des ‘Textes at Paris; and the directors and staffs of the Services d’Archives of Eure, of the Céte-d’Or, of Oise, and

of Seine-et-Oise, and of the Bibliotheque Mazarine and the Buibliotheque Sainte-Genevieve at Paris. Other debts are due to the directors of the Services d’ Archives of Orne and of Aisne, of the Burgerbibliotek

at Bern, of the Vatican Microfilm Library at St. Louis University, of the Archivio Segreto Vaticano, and of the Stanford University Libraries. Madeleine R. Gleason, editor of the Harvard Historical Studies, has helped me immensely in the preparation of the final copy.

BLANK PAGE

Contents |

Introduction I 1. ‘(The Formation and Establishment of the Capetian

Geschlecht, ca. 900-ca. 1050 7 The Emergence of the Dynasty 7

‘The Capetian Family after Its Accession to the Throne 16

and Context 28

Inheritance Structures and Attitudes: Comparisons

and Twelfth Centuries 44 Family Structures and the Crown, ca. 1050-ca. 1160 45

2. ‘The Consolidation of Dynastic Forms in the Eleventh

Philip Augustus as Heir to the Throne 64

3. Royal Succession as Reflected in the King’s Business:

‘The Chancery Records, 1180-1206 78

behind Them 78

The Chancery Formulations and the Principles

The Feudatories and the Royal Succession 9]

4. ‘The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 104 ‘The Capetian Blood-Right and Carolingian Descent 104

Royal Virtue and Holiness 122

of Philip the Fair 133 Royal Dynasticism and the Succession of 1316 149 Dynasticism and the Royal Mystique in the ‘Time

of the Blood 155 The Cadets of the Early Capetians 155

5. A Corollary of the Royal Race: The Princes

The Endowment of Philip Hurepel 158 The Establishment and Nature of the Capetian Apanages 161

and Philip III 171

Familial Motives and Factors of State under St. Louis

The Princes, the Royalty, and the Territorial Kingdom 178

x Contents Conclusions and Perspectives 193

Abbreviations 199 Appendix 201

Notes 225 Bibliography 31] Index 337

Royal Succession in Capetian France

, 5~O=a :oe=&oQs623te78< oO UD ne & ge 5, 2 ax 3 OS =i T! Fd ~ .5=c ON, & .— an i? p

ov Zs ae 2Z. aw : =) : aia E 3! g S Sam

S)

n

5= xSmSe&o— & ia E 69 2= rd

sas©mam SS 5aES & :~ §)

aA bo. 5

ot

O

_wv2»?o co = 2

3.209 i ”qos MH Oy) DE ao nom a v 6 GSES xoSan

acog a 2MSA, Su c2sa &he= ch

a8 ° = Cm a 25 CESES acl 3 VDL = ,;© s

TN ; Z : E bE nos 228 c En V-o GL s BS Oe HO =. go -g 25 FS

ae) a oS Ly e ar s: : | iS So + a —a wwe oS O SS : Ke soU & EF A335 a: a, ne E° mw : vB) om OYane ’~ ase N Oo

3> Je

an

——

om

c

3 o

—

BLANK PAGE

Introduction

When compared with the advances made in other fields of medieval French history, the traditional conception of the Capetian monarchy appears inadequate. At least part of the difficulty lies in the received models into which the findings of much new research have been fitted.

It is symptomatic that, of recent scholarship, the most conspicuous and influential works are those which have departed from the inherited frame of reference.* The study of succession to the throne has been especially channeled and confined by such preconceptions. Many of the concepts used in it were drawn from the work of fifteenth- and sixteenth-century theoret1cians.? Upon these then were added the schematizations of the national

legal and institutional historians. Treatment of the field has for a century borne the stamp of Achille Luchaire, who traced the gradual establishment—fully accepted by the year 1223—of the right of the king’s eldest son to inherit the indivisible kingdom. Schramm embellished Luchaire’s thesis, while Fawtier circumvented it, calling hereditary succession only a usage justified by precedents.? Although these views dealt well enough with the “constitutional” factors of electionor blood-right, they ignored many others: for example, the background for the dynastic thought of the circles of Philip Augustus and Louis VIII, for the creation of apanages for the cadets of Louis VIII, or for the configuration of royal brothers around the person of St. Louis.* Almost no heed has been paid to the argument by Jan Dhondt that the Capetians were established as the royal dynasty as early as 987.5

Royal succession has been studied, somewhat repetitiously, with the focus almost entirely on the crown. But what of the persons, including the kings themselves? ‘The extant sources reveal that many contemporaries thought that France had been ruled by races of kings, of which the descendants of Hugh Capet formed the third. Some texts even give genus as a synonym for regnum.® What, too, of the royal princes? ‘hey appear in the closest association with the king during the reigns of St. Louis and his successors. It is inconceivable that the institution of the apanages came ex nihilo in 1223 or 1225; there ]

2 Introduction simply had to be more background for them than historians have commonly assumed. The apanages themselves have been condemned by some moderns as a “dismemberment” of the royal domain, thus pre-

judging that the domain should not have been divided because that practice weakened the crown. Defenders of the apanage system have countered that the long-range interests of the monarchy were not harmed, because of the princes’ loyalty to the crown and the eventual

reversion of the apanages. The effect of this exchange has been to lose the historical reality behind disconnected data. The opinion which would make the thirteenth-century apanages a line of supports set up for the crown is differently moot: the idea is plausible, but the texts do not state such a thing and their ambiguity does not require this interpretation.’ Other explanations must be sought. Surely the apanages must have their own ground on which to be examined. The present study is concerned mainly with the king and with succession to the throne, specifically in what is here conceived to be their context: the royal family. ‘That this unit is not the only element to be considered goes without saying, but one cannot ignore the express view of those contemporaries who linked the throne with the family.

A historian of the medieval family has found for Germany that it is with regard to the succession that the relation between the Konigsherrschaft and the Konigssippe is apparent.’ ‘The present investigation finds certain aspects of the French royal family to be inextricably intertwined with the succession. That which is devolved, in this case the kingdom, cannot be fully understood without reference to the manner of its transmission; the same factor is essential to the conception of it held by contemporaries, again including the kings. And if, as seems proper, the Capetian apanages must be considered along with, or as part of, the royal succession, then the princes should be seen in closer connection with the royalty than has usually been the case. The structure of the royal family, and its conception of itself, must also be considered, in order to penetrate into the self-image of the heirs and the bonds among them. These perspectives will yield a better understanding of both the royalty and the kingdom. A further result, finally, can be achieved: the professed goal of placing the royalty in closer relation to its societal context will be less distant. For medieval France was pervaded by principles of organization by kin-structure. ‘The early sources amply reflect such patterns for the Merovingian and Carolingian kings and the noble classes.

Introduction 3 That the same had been true for the nobility of the eleventh and twelfth centuries has long been recognized, and recent studies have bridged part of the old gap of the tenth century in such fashion that certain families can now be traced back into the eighth century, some of them even holding lands which their descendants still possessed in the twelfth century.® The genealogical stability need not imply perma-

nence of status, but the kinship principle remains an integral part of the structure of noble society. ‘That such was the case among the differ-

ent strata of the nobility appears increasingly probable as research progresses.!° A comparable situation existed at the bottom of society, among the serfs, who were differently but decidedly a hereditary class; nor are they to be viewed merely as chattels, for some of them held property which was governed by kin-determined laws of dower and inheritance similar to those of their superiors.™1 Less conspicuously,

the townsmen of the twelfth century organized themselves in kingroups, as is plainly reflected in the provisions of urban charters.” Variably, yet throughout the period considered here, that elemental pivot, the ownership or tenure of land, was bound up with inheritance .

and the rights of blood. Protection and certain forms of justice often lay with one’s kinsmen. Among the aristocracy, the family may

be seen as the cadre for the transmission and exercise of lordship; complementary statements may be made among those whom they ruled. Despite a certain number of exceptions, a relation between kinship and feudal structures was thus a fundamental trait of the society. There is more: the family also served as a model and source for atti-

tudes and structures and behavior; it furnished principles of order, created suppositions and expectations, molded even as it was itself being changed or adapted, touching everything. Even studies of those spheres in which its influence was the least must be adjusted to take account of the cultural matrix. Regional or chronological differences, even long-term transformations, within the system cast into higher relief the ubiquitous vitality of the kinship bond. Yet, as recent studies have shown, the configuration of the aristocratic family did change, and with it the relation of familial structures to the political institutions of wealth and power.

In the ninth century, when advancement depended on royal favor, the West Frankish nobility was grouped in extended clans, Sz:ppen, allied by marriage and corresponding roughly to a horizontal formation of ties. Part of the explanation for this pattern is that prefer-

4 Introduction ment depended on connections with influential, living persons close to the king, not on one’s ancestors. For the same reason, relations might be traced equally through the male or female lines. Soon after the turn of the tenth century, a different familial type appeared among the high nobility. As, with the contraction of royal power, these men established themselves in permanent control over fixed territories, their families began to assume a more vertically linear structure, that of the Geschlecht or dynasty. The change was tied to a new familial order, the key to which seems to have been the hereditary transmission

of the new property. The sons, or one of them, inherited; then the holding became indivisible, in order to preserve it, and primogeniture was introduced to that end; linked to these causes, the others, the patterns of names given, and later genealogies, reflect a shift of stress to agnatic kinship. ‘Iwo or three generations later, from analogous causes,

the families of castellans showed a similar formation. The families grouped themselves, and were viewed, around their patrimony and its devolution.?8

This shift in familial patterns is thought to have been influenced by a royal model. Caution is required, however, in appraising this view. [The most ungeschlechtliche Merovingians had stressed agnatic kinship more than probably any of the persons adduced in support of the thesis of change; the Carolingian example, such as it was, had been formed largely by means of the accidents which for four successive generations had made its leaders the only surviving males close enough to obtain the succession; the patterns of names seem occasionally to reveal as much respect for the magical properties of names as for the agnates. Still, the broad outline remains and provides the background for the material considered here. ‘The monarchical tradition adds another element. ‘The throne had always been tied to kin-right. ‘The behavior of the Merovingians, their supposed divine origin, and the devolution of the throne to one after another of them, even to bastards, reflect such an attitude on the part

of their contemporaries. It has even been found that the charters of the last Merovingians contain more explicit notice of their ancestors than had the earlier ones./* ‘The Carolingians are thought to have been raised to the throne as a race; that certainly was the view which some of their writers projected. ‘The famous account of their anointment by Pope Stephen II records not only the anathema should a non-Carolingian ever be made king, but even the blessing of the mother of the

Introduction 9 race.15 The transition in the structure of the royal family from that of a Sippe toward that of a Geschlecht reflects a differently ordered, but not diminished, kin-tie. Recurrently, the throne was tied to the race. Perhaps as early as the reign of Louis the Pious, the Visio Karoli Magni expressed the fear that the dynasty might end, a prospect so dreadful as to be associated with the end of the world. After further struggles within the royal family, the Visio Karoli Grossi, from about 901, had the ancestors themselves warn a recalcitrant member that it was only

because of the intercession of St. Peter and St. Remigius that the throne had not already been taken away from their family. By the end of the tenth century, the testament of St. Remigius had been expanded to include the protocol for just such a deposition.’® All the while the throne was hereditary. ‘The Robertinian Odo was made king ad tempus when a crisis required it, only to have the remote southern parts of the kingdom break away from the monarchy in name as earlier they had been allowed to drift in fact.1" After the Carolingian restoration, the royal charters were again more explicit than before in their mention of kingly ancestors. The epitaph of Louis IV pays more attention to his blood than to his deeds.!8 The argument in favor of

royal election which Richer attributed to the archbishop of Reims crumbles when compared to Richer’s unmistakable belief in hereditary monarchy, a bias following which he composed another speech making Hugh the Great condemn his own father’s brief rule as unlawful.'? No cogent or sustained argument appeared to dispute the supposition that, while final elevation may have come from divine or from noble and episcopal election, the claim and even the right to the throne lay in birth.” That the disturbances of the tenth century broke this continuity through a redistribution of power has been suggested by the traditional concentration on “constitutional”’ forms. Satisfactory evidence for this interpretation is lacking. The redistribution of power is cer-

tain, but to divorce the royalty from the pattern of kin- and kinsubstitute relationships which permeated the rest of lay society (and

much of the church) is to view the central government out of all context and to attribute to the elective opposition a degree of articulate mobilization which it did not possess. The orientation of the present

study is that the societal propensity was too strong to be thus dismissed and that the entire question is in need of reexamination. Interpretation of some of the data has always been open to debate, and many

6 Introduction sources have appeared in printed editions only since Luchaire formu-

lated his conclusions. Above all, shifting historical interests have produced new stresses and insights, among them a heightened appreciation of the family as the basic unit of social structure in medieval France. As perspectives of the society are altered, so too must be views of the interrelation of its various structures. It may be constructive,

therefore, to attempt to situate the Capetian royalty in more exact rapport with the institutions which surrounded it.

1 / ‘The Formation and Establishment of the Capetian Geschlecht, ca. 900—ca. 1050 The Emergence of the Dynasty

The structures of the Capetian royal family, like the landed bases of its power, were founded in the consolidation of the Robertinian principality. When Hugh Capet came to the throne, in 987, he was already head of a Geschlecht which was different from other great families in that its members were somewhat less numerous and its form somewhat more vertically linear than were theirs. The acquisition of the crown probably increased the tendency toward dynastic

ordering, but this impulse, although given distinctive expression because of the peculiarities of the royalty, appears no more developed among the early Capetians than among the contemporaneous dukes ot Normandy. What one actually finds in the sources is related to what one is prepared to recognize in them, but the case can be argued that

the outline of the Capetian family as such did not change much between the time of Hugh the Great (d. 956) and the mid-twelfth century, if indeed that early.

For centuries the earliest known ancestor of the Capetians was Robert the Strong, a count in Neustria who died in 866. Although Robert had been thought to have been a novus homo, sustained research has shown that he came from important Rhenish nobility and that his family connections—on the agnatic and maternal sides and by his own and his relatives’ marriages—linked him to many of the highest personages in the western kingdom.? The newly reconstructed genealogy is deceptive. Robert’s family was not a dynasty—witness his career in a region far removed from that of his ancestors; and it is typical of

the record left by the Frankish nobility that his antecedents should have been unknown for almost a millennium, for while his birth had put him ina class from which advancement was possible, it was because

of the rank and influence of his living kinsmen that Robert attained his own position. He was active in Gaul in the midst of a powerful extended Sippe.?

7

8 The Capetian Geschlecht Three generations later, the appearance of his family had changed. At Robert’s death, his sons, Odo and Robert, were too young to be appointed to his county, which passed instead to another noble. At the latter’s death, Robert the Strong’s older son, Odo, received his father’s Neustrian command, to which he added the counties of Paris and Orléans. When Odo became king, in the military emergency of 888, he transferred his other titles to his brother Robert. By 914, this

Robert had obtained from the restored Carolingian, Charles the Simple, confirmation of the inheritance of all his honores to his son

Hugh and had associated the latter in his titles of count and abbot.* } Political upheavals then intervened. When Charles took menacing steps against the kin, Robert led the revolt of his Sippe which put him on the throne as Robert I. When he was killed in battle the following

year, a son-in-law succeeded him in the kingship and Hugh in the paternal counties and abbacies. After a second Carolingian restoration,

Hugh the Great added to these holdings, by royal grant, the title Dux Francorum, which increased his powers north of the Seine and at least enhanced, if it did not augment, his jurisdiction in the region of the Loire. At the same time, he obtained royal recognition of his claim to lordship in Burgundy.® Hugh the Great died in 956, leaving three sons. The eldest, Hugh Capet, inherited his father’s dukedom and his other Parisian and Loire holdings; the second son, Otto, who had been married to a Burgundian heiress, received that duchy by inheritance

from both sides; the third son, Odo, had been put into the church, from which he emerged after Otto’s death to become duke of Burgundy under the name Henry.®

‘The transmission of the property is remarkable. ‘The centers of Robert the Strong’s power had been obtained by his elder son Odo, increased by him and passed to his brother Robert I, then passed by him to his son Hugh the Great. Changes in the propertied base occurred during the second and third generations: the seats of the family’s power were extended, or moved, to the north—in the counties and abbacies of Paris and Orléans and the dukedom of Hugh the Great— and the family’s hold on some of the Loire possessions was loosened.? From Hugh the Great these holdings were passed undivided to Hugh

Capet. What is essential in the present connection is not the shift from Touraine to the Ile-de-France, but the tradition of lordship in Francia and Neustria which had been maintained for successive gen-

erations. By the later years of Hugh the Great, these holdings had

The Capetian Geschlecht 9 become a patrimony with respect to which the family was ordered by precedence of birth. ‘The record of Burgundy supplements this one. Robertinian claims there were old, but their position in the region not firmly established; the title appears as a secondary one, eventually to be cemented by marriage and passed to a cadet. The pattern of names gives further evidence of the family’s conception of itself. Robert the Strong was son of another Robert, and the name was old in the father’s family. Robert the Strong’s elder son

Odo was probably named for a maternal uncle or great-uncle, the cadet Robert for the agnates. Robert I’s only son was Hugh. Earlier genealogists believed that Hugh was named for his father’s maternal

erandfather and for a half-uncle, but this genealogy has been impugned.’ By his third wife, Hedwig, daughter of Henry I of Germany and sister of Otto I, Hugh the Great had three sons: Hugh Capet, Otto, and Odo (Henry). Hugh Capet’s only son was named Robert.? The growing dominance of patrilineal names is tempered but unmistakable. Ihe naming of the sons of Robert the Strong may have been influenced by regard for those powerful relatives with whom it would have been advantageous to proclaim kinship. A similar possibility may have figured with the naming of Hugh the Great: born after Odo had

transferred his holdings to Robert I, Hugh was given a name which had belonged, not to his proven ancestors, but to two former magnates in the region which he was intended to rule. ‘That Odo’s only known son was hamed Guy, the reference of which is obscure, requires caution in the analysis of other names from that time.’ With the sons of Hugh

the Great, more certainty appears, as the disposition of their names conforms to a pattern found elsewhere among the nobility. Hugh Capet was named for his father, whose property he was to inherit; the second son was named for a prominent matrilinear relative, here an uncle whose power had replaced that of the maternal grandfather, the more frequent namegiver. ‘The same pattern of names is demonstrable among the middle and lower nobility of the late-eleventh and twelfth centuries, when the eldest or sometimes the first two sons received agnatic names and only

cadets were often named for matrilinear kinsmen, and the same or similar customs can be documented in a number of cases from earlier centuries.’? Among the Carolingians, who markedly preferred agnatic names, enough sentiment had been built up for naming the eldest son after his paternal grandfather so that the baptism of Charlemagne’s

10 | The Capetian Geschlecht cadet, previously called Carloman, under the name Pippin was a reflection of the displacement of the eldest, illegitimate, son, another Pippin, who soon afterward rebelled.1? Among the high nobility, as early as the later ninth century, Count Vulgrinus, a cousin by marriage of Charles the Bald, gave an agnatic name to his elder son while naming the younger one for his wife’s brother.'® This last case introduces another element, for at Vulgrinus’ death, when his counties of Angouléme and Périgord were divided between his sons, their mother’s dowry of Agen was included in the share of the younger son.'* Other examples suggest that, 1n addition to the stress on agnatic names in the Geschlechter, there was sometimes a relation between the names given and the property rights or claims, not only of the eldest son but of cadets as well. In a lesser branch of the Carolingians, three sons were born to Pippin, son of Bernard, king of Italy. The two eldest were named Bernard and Pippin, the third Herbert. ‘The sons’ mother was probably from the family of the Theoderics and Herberts, counts with lands at Meaux, in Vermandois, and elsewhere. It is noteworthy that when these lands fell vacant, late in the ninth century, it was the son with a name from that side of the family who obtained virtually all of them.!® Herbert I of Vermandois had only one son, also named Herbert; he received the entire inheritance. Herbert II married a daughter of Robert I and departed from his grandfather’s usage by naming three of his sons, including probably the _ eldest, after his wife’s family. It is curious that the occurrence of this different name pattern should coincide with the division of Herbert’s lands among four of his sons and the dismemberment of his principality. Other parallels are found when these lands later are distributed among collateral heirs. Herbert II’s daughter had married Theobald “le Tricheur,’ count of Blois and Chartres, son of another Theobald. Their eldest son, who died young, was named ‘Theobald, but the two cadets were named for their maternal uncles, Hugh and Odo. In the next generation, the eldest sons were Theobald and Odo II, of whom only the latter long survived. With his share of his grandmother’s inheritance in sight and almost in hand, this Odo gave the patrilineal name Theobald to his elder son, the heir to Blois and Chartres, while the younger son, Stephen, received both the name of his cousin, the last Vermandasian count of ‘Troyes and Meaux, and that part of the inheritance.*®

With this background, a logic emerges behind the naming of the

The Capetian Geschlecht I] sons of Hugh the Great. The name Hugh for the heir is consistent with

the tradition of possession in that region as well as with agnatic stress. Ihe choice of Otto for the second son accords not only with the practice of naming cadets for maternal kinsmen but also with the fact that the claims which Otto inherited were to lands bordering the empire. The implications of these data are strengthened by others: this Otto was born in the first 940s, that is, at the time of an alliance

between Hugh the Great and Otto I and immediately before Hugh obtained for himself portions of Burgundian territory and suzerainty over the whole during the power vacuum left by the deaths of Herbert II of Vermandois and William Longsword of Normandy." ‘The correlation is extended by the fact that Odo, the third son, upon leaving

his cloister to become duke of Burgundy, assumed the name of his maternal grandfather, Henry I.'8 In the whole complex, the similarities are too numerous to have been a matter of pure chance.

The Robertinian marriage policies, insofar as they can be seen from the meager sources, furnish more evidence regarding the family

patterns. Little is known about the marriages of Robert the Strong and Odo, and about Robert I’s first marriage only that perhaps two daughters were born of it.1® In or by the late 890s, Robert was married a second time, to Beatrice, daughter of Herbert I of Vermandois. Since

earlier in that decade Herbert I had fought for Charles the Simple against Odo, then had been reconciled with the latter after the partition of the kingdom between the two claimants, this match would seem to have helped seal the peace.”° It was also advantageous to Robert to ally himeslf and his future heir to one of the most powerful families in

France, kinsmen and partisans of the next king. By 907, Robert’s daughter, Adela, was married to Herbert II of Vermandois; the other daughter, Emma, was married to Rudolf, duke of Burgundy, probably before 919.?! ‘The advantage of these alliances to Robert’s Sippe was proven in 922, when both sons-in-law joined in the revolt which made him king.??

A different and more ambitious picture emerges of the marriages of Hugh the Great. Already, through his mother Beatrice, Hugh had

Carolingian blood. Young, perhaps by 914, he was married to the _ daughter of Rochilde, abbess of Chelles, sister of Louis II and thus aunt of Charles the Simple. By this marriage Robert made his son first cousin of the king. As later events were to show, he had gained a more dependable ally in Rochilde’s son, the count of Maine, but already in

12 The Capetian Geschlecht 914, perhaps linked to the new relationship, Robert obtained royal confirmation to his son of the succession to his honores. Hugh’s first wife died in 925, apparently without issue.?? ‘The next year, Hugh married Eadhilde, sister of the English king Athelstan and of the exiled wife of Charles the Simple.*4 By this match Hugh reestablished close ties of kinship with the exiled heir, thereby protecting himself against

the instability of Rudolf’s reign. After this wife’s death, in or by September 938, Hugh was married again. This time he moved not closer to the Carolingian, but ahead of him, by marrying Hedwig, sister of Otto I. Two years later, Louis IV took advantage of the recent widowhood of Hedwig’s sister Gerberga to marry her and forge his own ties with the German kings.?°

Hugh the Great married his second son, Otto, to the principal heiress of Gilbert, duke of Burgundy, and his elder daughter, Beatrice,

to Frederick, count of Metz, the future duke of Upper Lorraine.” The marriage of the younger daughter, Emma, to Richard I of Normandy is said to have been planned by Hugh the Great, but it was not effected until several years after his death, probably because the girl was not nubile before then.?” Hugh Capet was unmarried when his

father died; his union with Adelaide, sister of William IV, duke of Aquitaine and count of Poitou, probably dates from around 970.”8

Certain motives seem to underlie these marriages. Every match contracted for the daughters of Robert I and Hugh the Great was politically useful to the bride’s father or, in the case of the younger Emma, her brother. Robert I’s marriage to Beatrice was probably conceived as an alliance of Sippen. Otto’s marriage to the Burgundian heiress seems more economic and even testamentary in aim, rounding off his smaller share in the paternal inheritance and assuring him of land and rank. By contrast, the wives of Hugh the Great brought him no property of consequence—only the glory of their royal blood; nor did they offer him sure alliance with another extended kin. He aimed

above that, and his strategies must be understood in relation to the

French king. His first marriage, arranged by his father, was to a woman of royal blood, the king’s first cousin. His second wite was a foreign king’s daughter, sister of the deposed Carolingian queen and aunt of the heir who might one day be restored. Hugh stayed close to the circle of royal kin and power—until, pushing further, he married the sister of the German monarch. That this match was not merely

The Capetian Geschlecht 13 prudential or defensive, as the others may have been, is suggested by the haste with which Louis IV moved to emulate it. These marriages reflect grasping for prestige and tactical advantage,

- but there are hints of other planning too in the two matches which Hugh the Great arranged for himself. Neither mate brought him land, and marriage alliances with kings were no guarantee against shifting royal policies; but both women were of the highest rank, and one of them would be the mother of his heir. With respect to the heir there are likewise signs of special motives in the marriage. It is striking that the two cadets had been provided for by the time of their father’s death, while Hugh Capet was still unmarried. Nor did Hugh take a bride soon afterward, even though he was vulnerable, his position was assailed, and new allies would have been valuable to him then. Instead, he waited another thirteen years or so before settling old quarrels by marriage to Adelaide of Poitou. Hugh’s father and brother had been married very young, when appropriate matches appeared, and Hugh followed the same policy with regard to his own son. But he himself did not marry until he was at least twelve years older than were any of these at the time of marriage—older, too, than were other comparable figures of his time.”®

Was he waiting for a suitable mate? If not, it is difficult to explain the delay and the eventual choice. Adelaide was sister to the territorial prince whose lands adjoined Hugh’s to the south. Their families had

been mutually hostile until six or seven years earlier, but circumstances had changed and there were great advantages to the match, especially since the south was for Hugh an area exposed to flank attack in the event of a real struggle in the north.®° In other acceptable lines, Hugh’s ally, the Norman duke, had no daughters; the Angevins were Hugh’s vassals, on bad terms with the Normans, and soon, if not

already, were drawing close to the king; the old count of Flanders was a cousin and supporter of the king, by marriage an ally of the Vermandois, and the bitter enemy of Richard I of Normandy.*4 Against this background, the Poitevin-Aquitanian alliance would appear to have been the one most likely to turn, or at least to stabilize, the balance of power within France to Hugh’s advantage. ‘That it appeared so then is suggested by the sequel: the young Carolingian co-regent and heir was married to an older woman with the connections in the south to offset Hugh’s alliances: Adelaide, sister of the count of Anjou

14 The Capetian Geschlecht and of the bishop of Le Puy and widow of the count of Gévaudan, the most powerful lord in central Aquitaine. It is indicative of Lothair’s aims that Louis V spent most of the next two years in the south, in and around the domains of his young stepsons, as if to strengthen royal influence there. These moves have been seen as directed against Hugh Capet.®? They were that, but they were also provoked by his marriage, which was similar in political impact to that of his parents. The obvious deliberation with all these marriages, and the circumstantial alternation of haste and delay in that of the heir, suggest that

particular attention was given to his. This may be true, but misleading. The remarkable series of Hugh the Great’s wives, and the strategic brilliance of Hugh Capet’s match, should not obscure the fact that his brother Otto’s marriage was fully as well planned in accordance with his assigned lot. It follows that the marriage of the head of the house or of the heir, and that of a cadet, were judged by different criteria. Considerations of status or policy determined the former, maintenance and provision the latter. Otto was married by age sixteen to the heiress best placed to assure him. Hugh Capet was not married until age thirty-one or -two, but then into the family of the ereatest unaligned magnate in France.

The partition of the inheritance between Hugh Capet and Otto complements this evidence. When earlier Carolingian monarchs, or nearly contemporaneous Norman dukes, or later Capetians, made similar divisions, they usually explained that their purpose in doing so was to avoid discord among their sons.** In all but the earliest cases, such divisions markedly favored the eldest son, as it did here. In all but

the earliest cases too, the families were unmistakably Geschlechter, the core of their patrimonies roughly indivisible, their inheritance customs functioning along a vertical axis from father to heir figured by primogeniture. With this comparison, more of the pieces fall into place. The name patterns, the transmission of the patrimony, the marriage policies, all point to a familial order preferring the heir which marks the formation of a dynasty. ‘he process is obscure. ‘Transformation of the Robertin-

ian honores into a patrimony had doubtless been aided by the accidents of simplified familial demography, for Robert I was a sole surviving brother and Hugh the Great an only son. In any case, by the 940s the germs of the new system are discernible, and in 956 they appear more solidly formed. Did the people view themselves in such a

The Capetian Geschlecht 15 manner? No grounds exist to attribute to them an elaborate, articulated system, yet it is unbelievable that they would have acted as they did without cause or explanation. They knew very well who some of their ancestors had been; a few of the names appear in their charters, and the burden of indirect evidence forcefully suggests that many noble families were more familiar with their genealogies than the direct sources demonstrate.*4 ‘The idea at least of simple succession from father to son is reflected in their behavior and emerges clearly from two texts. In March or April 985, Gerbert composed a letter, probably for Archbishop Adalbero of Reims, to be sent to the bishop of Verdun, urging the latter to work for the renewal between Otto III and Hugh Capet of the former alliance between Otto II and Hugh; the new agreement was to include Hugh’s son. A month or two later, Gerbert wrote again, this time definitely for Adalbero, to advise the bishop and his brother about negotiating the release of their father, who was held captive by Lothair. He urged the alliance in remarkable terms: “Lothair is king of France in name alone; Hugh is, however, not in name but in effect and deed. If for the common end you would seek his friendship, and would bind his son to the emperor’s son [Otto III], you would judge immediately that the kings of the French were not your enemies. 3°

At the date of this letter, Robert was a bare thirteen years old, if that, yet twice he is presented with Hugh as a member of the proposed alliance. Robert, who had no independent standing, can hardly have

participated in the making of policy. No formal association of him with his father as a junior Dux Francorum is mentioned in the extant sources, and record of such an event is not likely to have been lost. The letter seems instead to reflect an expectation that Robert, as heir apparent, somehow shared in his father’s principate. The most obvious single model for such a premise would be the anticipatory association

of Louis V in the royalty; but the derivation of attitudes was surely more complex than that, for Gerbert was familiar with hereditary lordships, and there were even cases of the anticipatory association of baronial heirs of which he may have been aware.** In one sense, the resemblance between the phenomena was only approximate, since Louis V had become king by anointment and crowning. But Gerbert | might well have slighted that distinction; for consecration “ordained’’

) the theoretical sovereign, was peculiar to the kingship, and had nothing to do with broader social patterns. Right to the throne came

16 The Capetian Geschlecht from birth into the stirps regia, usually as eldest son of the last king. By 985, a parallel custom had been established for the dukedom of the Franks and other great lordships. That Gerbert was writing of Hugh's de facto monarchy, not his title, only emphasizes that point. He assumed the succession of son to father. As a transfer of concepts, this notion could be extended to make every heir a type of prince.

More immediately, its appearance as a presupposition marks the “patrimonialization”’ of office and power. In this particular case, both

elements may have been present: one wonders, without resolution, why the son of Hugh Capet’s calculated marriage should have been named for Robert I, whom Hugh himself had never known.37 The Capetian Family after Its Accession to the Throne From 987, when Hugh Capet became king, for about a century and a half, the history of the Capetians is marked by their evolution into a

stirps regia. Much of that chronological span will be treated in the following chapter, but the earlier decades of it prove, somewhat surprisingly, to form an integral part of the present discussion. For although continued succession to the throne required special tactics and procedures of the Capetians, the transition from ducal to royal family was not accompanied by any radical changes in the organization of its members. As with noble dynasties, the familial structures of the

Capetians reflect an ordering around their chief possession, in this case the crown. Their translation of the royalty into a hereditary honor is analogous in most respects to the transformations in the patterns of inheritance which were in process at all levels of noble society

during the period under consideration. It has sometimes been claimed that the men who raised Hugh Capet

as king had no idea that in so doing they were setting up a new royal line. ‘That interpretation is implausible. For Hugh came to the throne as head of an entrenched Geschlecht, with powerful allies, and with a son who was already perhaps fifteen years of age. Before Hugh could be expected to die, this son would be strong and active, favored by every paternal device, probably well married. ‘The presumptive heir also had three sisters, who could be, and eventually were, married to secure additional allies. Few alert contemporaries could have failed to

see at least a strong possibility that events would transpire as in fact they did.

The Capetian Geschlecht 17 The large body of scholarship on the succession of 987 need not be

recapitulated here, but certain aspects of the problem should be recalled and the focus adjusted.*® After Louis V died without direct heir, two elements were more conspicuous than others in the regulation of his succession: the immediate power of Hugh Capet and the rejection of Louis’s uncle, Charles of Lorraine. Secular shifts in wealth and power underlay Hugh’s accession. As royal influence contracted in both geographical scope and effectiveness,

magnates on the peripheries of the kingdom consolidated their own positions, with the result that France came to be divided into a number of principalities, of which the king’s was one. The importance of the factor of power is suggested by the sequel to the change of dynasties: only those regions which were far enough from the center not to have seen the king, and which thus remained sentimentally attached tohim, — long displayed any loyalty to the Carolingians.*®® It was a series of acci-

dents, however, which made possible the relatively smooth promotion | of a non-Carolingian as king. One contributing factor was famulial demography: Louis V was an only son who had died without issue; the nearest heir was his uncle. Charles of Lorraine, however, was placed,

and had behaved, badly. Only eleven when his father died, disinherited by Lothair, Charles had become the vassal of Otto II for Lower Lorraine, had schemed and even rebelled against Lothair, and even-

tually had returned to court only to become the hated rival of the queen and of a circle of magnates. During the brief reign of Louis V, Charles seems to have been the driving force behind a campaign of accusations and threats against Archbishop Adalbero of Reims and his family, the effect of which had been to make Adalbero ally himself with Hugh Capet. At the moment of Louis V’s death, the archbishop had actually been charged with treason. In haste, Adalbero engineered the assemblies which treated of the succession and proclaimed Hugh King. Hugh was quickly crowned, perhaps twice.*° Six months later, Hugh strengthened his own position by having his son Robert associated with him in the royalty. It was from that event that a chronicler

at Sens, reviewing those years a generation later, dated the end of Carolingian rule.*!

Charles of Lorraine put forward his claim to the throne but met with little response. Adalbero warned him that his forces were inadequate to prevail against Hugh. It was not that Hugh’s power was so great: a strong coalition could have toppled him; even a loose one in

18 The Capetian Geschlecht 990 made his position desperate. ‘The archbishop of Sens was hostile to

Hugh and delayed swearing fealty to him. Later, Gerbert, who had changed sides, called Charles the legitimate heir to the kingdom and the new kings interreges.4? A more common reaction was seeming indifference. Although some of the magnates disapproved of Hugh’s elevation, they did not take the field against him. Those who fought during those years did so against their old enemies among their neighbors or for self-aggrandizement.** The issue of the throne was decided

on a remarkably domestic level. Henry of Burgundy and Richard I of Normandy supported Hugh, as, perhaps less actively, did William of Aquitaine. Charles’s brother-in-law, Albert of Vermandois, came out for Charles, only to retreat at a show of force by Hugh; peace between them was restored through the mediation of Richard of Normandy.‘ Then Hugh suffered reverses. In May 988, the dissatisfied townsmen of Laon delivered their city to Charles, and Hugh’s efforts to retake the town failed. ‘Then Charles’s half-brother, Arnulf, whom Hugh had made archbishop of Reims, surrendered that city to Charles.

Charles’s kinsmen—Conrad, king of Burgundy; Odo I of Blois; Herbert of Vermandois, count of Troyes—declared for Charles, or against Hugh. Gerbert was one of the leaders of this party, as perhaps was Arnulf.4® Hugh was too weak to take the offensive against them,

and they launched no direct attack against him. Then Gerbert returned to Hugh, and Odo accepted at least a truce with him late in 990 or early in 991. At the end of March 991, the bishop of Laon betrayed that city and Charles to Hugh’s forces. Charles was imprisoned with his family and died in captivity.*¢ In the remote south, a few charters were dated by the reign—some by Hugh’s, some by Charles’s, some by both. Most of the barons recognized Hugh as king.*7 In 995, Odo of Blois and Bishop Adalbero of Laon conspired to place a son of Charles of Lorraine on the throne, but their plan was discovered and quashed.*® After that, those who might

profit thereby remembered the source of Hugh’s royal title, but no effort was made to depose him or Robert.

In the first years after Hugh’s accession, differing ideas were current as to the status of his reign. Adalbero of Reims, eight months after he had crowned Robert, implicitly acknowledged Carolingian claims

by denying to Charles that he hated the genus regium. Gerbert and Arnulf turned to support Charles’s hereditary claim, which, in calling

The Capetian Geschlecht 19 it the regium nomen, they very nearly equated with the royalty itself.*

Richer, who privately believed in the blood-right (at least of earlier kings), composed and ascribed to Adalbero of Reims a speech in favor of elective monarchy; he also quoted Hugh himself as saying that it was Louis V’s death without heirs which had made the crown free for attribution to him.®® Hugh’s aid to the church and Charles’s offensive against the see of Reims were recalled. The testament of St. Remigius

was revised so that the saint was made to say that if ever the genus regium returned evil for the good it had received from him, the rule of “that prince” should be given to another. From such roots came the view that, because the Carolingians had ceased to protect the churches, a judgment, of God had given the kingdom ad meliorem.*} Was the new rule supposed to be hereditary? The texts do not say.

Richer reports that when Hugh wanted to have Robert crowned, Adalbero of Reims objected that two kings “‘could not rightly be made, recté creari,” in the same year. Scholars have often taken this reply to reflect opposition to hereditary Capetian rule, but the grounds for such an inference are weak. Richer’s text was revised. His first version had

read that two kings “could not rightly be ordained, recte ordinari,” in the same year, a form suggestive of a canonical reference which might lend greater validity to the objection.®? Richer is explicit, but he

is often highly rhetorical: there is no certainty that the exchange, as reported, is even historical. It is difficult to understand why Adalbero would have opposed this reinforcement to Hugh, with whom he was already so deeply implicated and upon whom his own position largely depended.*?

Writing at about the same time, the canonist Abbo of Fleury seemed

to imply that the crown was elective, for he compared the election of a king or emperor to those of bishops and abbots. The stress of his remarks, however, was on the obligations which consent in a royal election imposed on the electors, and nothing in his text argues against hereditary succession. ‘he political context indicates that he was not

thinking of open elections, for he was writing when there were two kings of France, father and son—to whom he dedicated his work—and when the emperor was Otto III, the fourth member of his dynasty. ‘The

similarity in the forms of royal and episcopal elections and consecrations invited the analogy that he drew, but since the choice of

, prelates also was controlled (often by the king), the comparison is ambiguous.°** Equal attention should be paid to the same Abbo’s ad-

20 The Capetian Geschlecht dress to Robert, “whom, raised high by the kings his ancestors, divine piety has led to the dignity of the realm.”®® Dynastic right could not be imputed to Robert, but here his royal ancestry seems to have made him qualified to be king. Later development would turn this idea into a basis for hereditary rule.®® At its earlier appearance, however, the notion is vague. Documentation for the period is poor, but one reason the texts do not give precise answers is the concentration of questions put to them. What emerges—quickly at first, but inconclusively; then gradually but

more fully—is a Capetian dynastic pattern very similar to the lateRobertinian one which had preceded it. Almost immediately after his own coronation, Hugh moved to assure the succession of his son. Richer’s account reads almost as if the two events were consecutive. Wanting “to leave a sure heir to the kingdom after his own death,” Hugh conferred with the principes about the association of his son. He twice communicated his wish to Adalbero of Reims. The archbishop objected, but Hugh replied that he intended to go to Spain to aid the count of Barcelona against the Muslims and that with two kings the army would still have a leader if one of them were killed on the expedition. He reminded Adalbero of the danger of civil conflict, rege interempto. ‘The archbishop then agreed, and Robert was acclaimed and crowned at an assembly of notables gathered at Christmas.°* ‘There may have been opposition, but the essential point, stressed by Dhondt, is that Hugh “imposed his will with remarkable ease.’’>§

Hardly had Robert been crowned when Hugh began to look for a suitable wife for him. Gerbert wrote in the king’s name to the Byzantine emperors seeking a bride from their family. After professing his affection for the Basileis because of their lineage and the glory of their

deeds, he described the purported advantages to them of an alliance with the French. ‘Then came the proposal: “Therefore, so that these benefits may endure forever, we seek with special eagerness a daughter of the Holy Empire, because we have an only son, himself a king, and we are unable to match him in marriage with his equal because of our kinship with the neighboring kings.’’®? Hugh’s overture has been seen as ludicrous, coming from a usurper not yet secure on his throne. Indeed, it is unsure that the letter was even sent, much less answered. Nonetheless, the text is instructive about those qualities which Hugh sought in his heir’s wife: she was to be of royal birth, but

The Capetian Geschlecht 21 not related to him within the prohibited degrees.® It 1s apparent, too, that she was to bring political advantages with her. A Byzantine prin-

cess would have had such prestige that almost any rank other than queenship would have seemed beneath her. She would thus have bolstered Hugh’s and Robert’s position against the less well-married Charles of Lorraine. She would also have broken the parity between Hugh and Charles in their kinship with Otto III, for she would have been related to the emperor and his mother in a manner which Charles could not have matched. Hugh’s ambition in this matter was unrealistic but the attempt was calculated. As soon as a more practical match appeared, Hugh seized the occasion. The count of Flanders died in March 988. His widow, Rozola Susanna, was of royal birth, daughter of a former king of Italy; and since the county pertained to her young son, marriage to her would include great authority in Flanders. Robert, who was then about sixteen, accordingly was married to this woman of thirty or more, probably within a year of her first husband’s death.*t With one stroke, Robert had been provided with a king’s daughter as wife, Flanders withdrawn from its ties to the Carolingians, and Albert of Vermandois caught between Hugh’s lands on one side, his hold on Flanders on another, and his Norman allies on a third. In immediate context, the marriage brought political gain. That it did not last is, for the moment, irrelevant. Hugh’s familial dispositions were among the first measures he took as king. In addition to arranging for his son’s succession and marriage, he elevated his wife Adelaide as socia et particeps nostri regni.® ‘The meaning of that act is unclear. First mentioned in a letter to the mother of Otto III, it may have been modeled on the exceptional position of the German empresses; it may reflect elaboration of Carolingian, and perhaps princely, custom; or it may have been intended to reinforce Hugh’s ties with Adelaide’s brother.® The timing of these actions is significant, since there had as yet been no confrontation with Charles of Lorraine and Hugh’s hold on the crown was thus untested. The arrangement of his family appears as part of Hugh’s consolidation of his rule, hardly separable from the coup d'état itself. Hugh’s scheme did not long endure. Almost as soon as the new

| political stability permitted some domestic disruption, late in 991 or , early the following year, Robert divorced Susanna—according to : Richer, “because she was old.’’** Subsequent events form a tale of

22 The Capetian Geschlecht youthful rebellion. Having repudiated the wife his father had chosen for him, Robert did not soon remarry. When aged about twenty-three and starting to assert himself in policy, he was seduced, or at least pursued, by Bertha, widow of Odo I of Blois. She was a great countess, of royal birth, older than Robert but younger than his first wife. After Odo’s death, Bertha chose Robert as her protector, became his mistress,

and sought aid from Gerbert and the count of Nevers for them to marry despite their consanguinity. Because of her, Robert clashed angrily with his parents. After Hugh’s death they married, only to be ordered by the pope to separate. After perhaps six years of childless marriage, they did so.®

The main results of their union had been to subject Robert to ecclesiastical censure and to embroil him in princely rivalries. By his marriage to Bertha, whose sons were counts of Blois and Chartres, he had entered their inherited conflict with the count of Anjou. On divorcing her and antagonizing her sons, it was to the Angevin connection that he had to turn for allies against his new enemies. Accordingly, he married Constance, sister of the count of Arles and first cousin of the count of Anjou.®

Scholars have judged Robert harshly because of the consequences

of his marriages. His critics would have had him choose a foreign princess, thus remaining outside the conflicts among the comital dynasties within France. Such a view is predicated on an exalted conception of the monarchy; it takes little account of the circumstances of the time. Because of his grandmother, Hedwig, Robert was barred by

consanguinity from the most desirable foreign alliance, one with a woman from the German royal family.** Perhaps more important, the criticism of Robert ignores the diplomatic role of marriage in promoting concord among families. The marriage to Bertha promised

important alliances: her sons were counts of Blois, Chartres, and Tours; her brother was king of Burgundy; her sons’ cousins were counts of Vermandois and of ‘Troyes and Meaux. Had Bertha borne Robert a son, he, through kinship and afhnity, would have had rights on the loyalty of most of his neighbors on the north, east, and south of the Capetian patrimony. In the meanwhile, during the minority of her sons, Robert had control of their counties.®8 Robert necessarily knew the political function of marriage. By the

time of his adulthood, however, generations of intermarriage among }

the high nobility had narrowed the sphere within which matches :

The Capetian Geschlecht 23 could be contracted, while simultaneously the rivalries among the princely houses had been so sharpened that alliance with any one of them must offend another. Marriage within this group did draw the Capetians into baronial antagonisms which probably reduced further the prestige of the monarchy, but it is not clear either that these results

had been foreseeable or that Robert was solely responsible for the broad marital policies which produced them.® On the contrary, for a period of several decades Capetian marriages seem to reflect an effort

to create bonds between the kings and their neighbors, and thus a political stability. The balance thus achieved was delicate and changeable, and it is not always possible to distinguish which elements of it represent long-range planning and which immediate expediency, but piecemeal the system was formed and modified, and it did contribute

to political order.” The early Robertinian marriage patterns are uncomplicated. Few matches had to be made, and the lack of close kinship with other magnates left the field of choice wide. In the late-tenth and earlyeleventh centuries, by contrast, the range of possible matches was restricted at just the time when there was a larger number of Capetian marriages to be arranged. Hugh Capet, while still duke, had married his daughter, Gisele, to the advocatus of Saint-Riquier, effective count of Ponthieu and enemy of the count of Flanders, in order to offset the power of the latter.”! Then, admittedly in a time of crisis, he had mar-

ried Robert to the widowed countess of Flanders, reconciling old quarrels and securing a temporary hold on the county. When that match ended in divorce, the kings had acquired a foe in Susanna’s son,

the young count. Perhaps to counterbalance his hostility, Robert’s other sister, Hedwig, was married to the first important northern ally to appear, the count of Hainaut.” At about the same time, Robert himself married Bertha, thus forging ties with his immediate neighbors on three sides.

When Robert repudiated Bertha, he allied himself to meet new problems. Not only did his marriage to Constance restore the old Capetian alliance with the count of Anjou against the house of Blois, but Constance was also a kinswoman of Hugh, bishop of Auxerre and count of Chalon, Robert’s strongest supporter in Burgundy, and thus

| also of Otto-William, rival claimant to the Burgundian succession, the first war for which was then in progress.” Late in 1005, this stage of the conflict was settled to Robert’s advantage and sealed by marital

24 The Capetian Geschlecht agreements. The king’s infant daughter, Hadvise, was betrothed to Reginald, heir to the count of Nevers, a son-in-law and supporter of Otto-William.™ At about the same time, Otto-William’s eldest son was betrothed or married to a daughter of Robert’s staunch ally, Richard II of Normandy.” The last of these royal marriages designed to gain baronial loyalties was that by which Robert’s younger daughter, Adela, was betrothed in infancy to the future Baldwin V of Flanders. ‘The marriage itself was performed when Adela reached nubile age, perhaps in 1028."° By Constance Robert II had four sons—Hugh, Henry, Robert, and

Odo, born in that order—and two daughters, Hadvise and Adela.” The names of all of them were Robertinian.* Indirect evidence—and there is nothing else—suggests that Hugh, named for his grandfather, was designated from birth to succeed to the crown. Henry, named for the last duke of Burgundy, whose inheritance Robert was claiming, doubtless was intended to receive that duchy. Already before the end of January 1016—that is, as soon as Burgundy was really passing under Robert’s control—Henry was appointed duke. His elevation is indicative of the father’s plan for Hugh, whose consecration as king, though

not celebrated until the following year, had surely been projected since at least the time of Henry’s promotion.7® Nothing is known of what provision, if any, Robert intended to make for his two youngest sons.

When Hugh was about ten, Robert prepared his association. ‘The nobles whom he consulted advised him to let the child grow before putting the weight of the kingship upon him, but urged by his wife, the king persevered, and Hugh was anointed and crowned. He was allowed no share in the government, however, and, having no property of his own, he was fed and clothed in his father’s palace—until he rebelled, then offered filial contrition, upon which he was given kingly privileges. Hugh died in 1025.” The succession was thrown open by Hugh’s death. Robert wanted his second son, Henry, to be crowned. ‘The queen, however, championed the third son, Robert, and stirred against the king an opposition party which demanded that he be confirmed as successor.®° ‘The

controversy was not a challenge of Capetian right to the throne. Rather, the dispute was over which of the sons of Robert II should * Hadvise is another form of Hedwig, the name of Hugh Capet’s mother.

The Capetian Geschlecht 29 be chosen, with the king and queen each leading a faction. A letter concerning the succession, sent to Bishop Fulbert of Chartres by Hildegar, Fulbert’s deputy at Poitiers, is extant. In it Hildegar informs Fulbert, a supporter of Robert II and Henry, that the partisans of Constance and the younger Robert were arguing from the criterion of suitability, as opposed to the implicit one of primogeniture; disparaging Henry’s character, they were pressing for the selection of the younger Robert. The other bishops, he said, felt that “no king should

be established while the father is alive,’ but that if the king insisted that this be done, the one whom Robert II “judged to be the best must be made king.” A letter from William V of Aquitaine to Fulbert also survives. It reflects a somewhat different point of view. William himself planned not to attend the assembly at which the new king would be chosen, so as to offend neither Robert IIT nor Constance; but he would accept as

king only the one whom his kinsman, Odo II of Blois, accepted, and he wished to know what agreement Odo and Robert II had reached. He asked Fulbert to advise him “‘whether there will be a sacring of

a new king or not and of whom.’’®? Odo had first supported the queen's choice but later came over to the king, and both he and William attended Henry’s consecration. As Dhondt has shown, a non-

Capetian candidate did not figure in the dispute. Election meant choosing which of the king’s sons should succeed him, but in practice the choice fell to the king. Those contemporaries whose opinions are

| recorded attributed the actual decision and control of the proceedings to the king, most of them to him alone.® Establishment of Henry’s succession was only one of the familial matters regulated by Robert II during that time. Henry was crowned in May 1027. Soon thereafter, Adela was married to the heir to the county of Flanders.34 At some date between 1027 and 1030, the younger

Robert was designated heir to Burgundy, although the duchy was not

actually delivered to him until after his father’s death.®? In 1030, stirred by Constance but for unknown causes, Henry and the younger Robert rebelled against their father. In July 1031, the old king died,

leaving it to Henry to deliver Burgundy to Robert and Corbie, as Adela’s dowry, to Baldwin V of Flanders.8* Within two years, Constance had taken up arms again, this time against Henry and Robert;

| but beaten by them, she retired to a convent; she died the next year.8” Odo, the youngest son, had been left no title or land that is known.

26 The Capetian Geschlecht In 1041, the sons of Odo II of Blois attached him to their rebellion against Henry I by promising to depose Henry and make Odo king. The revolt failed. Odo was captured but subsequently released.8® His later life is almost unknown. That he appears only once, in 1052, as a subscriber to a royal act indicates that he did not reside at the king’s court.®® He lived at least until 1054, when he was one of the commanders of the Capetian army that invaded Normandy.” In the early

! twelfth century, the monks of Fleury remembered him as having led a life of pillage for lack of property of his own. He had looted the possessions of St. Benedict and died, struck down by the saint in revenge.”!

Robert II’s dispositions had not included marital arrangements for his sons. His daughters had been betrothed since infancy, and sub-

sequently married, to powerful counts. But Hugh, who had been a full eighteen when he died, had not yet been betrothed; nor had Henry I, who was twenty-one or twenty-two when his father died; nor had Robert, who was probably nineteen or older at the time.*? Nationalist scholars long deplored the circumstances of Henry I’s accession because they misunderstood the events. They believed that the young Robert had rebelled against Henry, exacting the cession of Burgundy to himself as the price for his acceptance of Henry’s succession to the crown. Dhondt has shown, however, that no such rebellion occurred. Constance did not push Robert against Henry, forcing the latter to buy peace: she attacked them both—after Robert had already been given Burgundy—and she was defeated.” Robert II was responsible for his own succession. ‘The evidence indicates, moreover, that the division of his lands between his two eldest sons had always been

part of his plan. The fact is documented from January 1016, when Henry was given the ducal title as soon as Burgundy was within real erasp; it 1s already implied in 1008 or 1009, when Henry was named for the Burgundian uncle whose succession Robert was claiming but had only partially gained. When Hugh died, Henry was promoted to the station of the eldest son and Robert soon promised that formerly intended for Henry. Constance had no part in this arrangement. ‘Those scholars who have blamed her, and the younger Robert, for the “loss” of Burgundy to the crown have ignored the fact that the Burgundian succession did not pertain to the crown, but to Robert II personally, and that he had consistently intended it for his second son. ‘Uhe older

The Capetian Geschlecht 27 judgment was based on centralist premises which are inapplicable to the French monarchy of the early eleventh century. The seeming peculiarities of Robert II’s succession are clarified by reference to precedent. It is instructive to compare the outline of the Robertinian family at three different dates: 956, the year of Hugh the Great’s death; 1008, the probable year of Henry I’s birth; and 1031, the year of Robert IT's death. When Hugh the Great died, his eldest son inherited his patrimony and chief honor. The second son received the lesser holding of Bur-

gundy. The third son had been put into the church, though he returned from it to become duke of Burgundy when his elder brother died. The two daughters were married or betrothed to important allies. Hugh the Great left as widow the third of his distinguished wives. Hugh Capet was still unmarried, although he married advantageously some years later.

In 1008, Robert II had just had his second son. The eldest son had been named for the paternal grandfather, the second for the greatuncle for whose inheritance the father was fighting. Within eight or perhaps nine years, the eldest son was formally designated to receive his father’s and grandfather’s ofhce and property and the second son that of his namegiver. Robert’s sisters and elder daughter had been married usefully, to gain allies and to settle or counterbalance quarrels. His queen was distinguished and also important politically, because her family helped to balance Robert’s enemies, who were also theirs. In 1031, at the death of Robert I, his eldest surviving son was king, having been consecrated four years earlier in the place of the deceased

eldest son. The second surviving son was being made duke of Burgundy by his brother at their father’s disposition. ‘The youngest

son had been left no title or large holding, although he may have received a smaller bequest which is not known. The younger daughter had recently been married well, and her husband would be a valuable ally. None of the sons was married. Henry I was soon betrothed to one German princess; after her early death, he married another and, after her death, a Russian princess.°** His brother, Robert soon married a

woman of the house of Semur-en-Brionnais, a powerful family of southern Burgundy.” ‘This summary permits several conclusions. If only by their num-

28 The Capetian Geschlecht bers, the marriages arranged by Robert II involved the Capetians in a greater complexity of relationships with the nobility than they had had probably since the time of Robert I. The policy of creating bonds of affinity between the monarch and the nobles entailed a certain lowering in the dignity of the marriage of the head of the line—perhaps arguably if Robert II 1s compared with his father, but very clearly in comparison with Hugh the Great and Henry I.°° That Robert did not arrange marriages for his sons may further suggest royal weakness: his experiences of revolt or opposition from his sons may have made him prefer that through the women of his family all alliances should lead directly to him. ‘The names reflect a different image: those of Robert’s sons were all agnatic, a common mark of royal lineages. ‘The inheritance pattern, however, is unchanged: the chief honor and the patrimonial lands belonged to the eldest son, the secondary holding to the

oldest cadet; if an elder son died, those next in line advanced one degree in relation to the inheritance. There is every sign that the succession was prearranged and was intended to be orderly. There is more: with respect to the family, the royalty stood in the

same position in 1031 that the dukedom of the Franks had stood in 956, and with much the same territorial base. Robert’s dispositions, which in 1016 had made his second son duke of Burgundy before the eldest son had yet been crowned, assumed a patrimoniality of the royal

title which scholars have little appreciated. It is inadequate to view the data merely with regard to succession to the throne. The breadth of the inheritance provisions is equally significant. ‘Che father’s property was distributed in undivided units: the patrimony to the eldest son, the lesser holding to the oldest cadet. ‘The crown was quickly assimilated to the family and its lands as a patrimonial honor. ‘The duchy of Burgundy does not appear to have been joined to the crown or to the royal lands any more closely than it had been to the dukedom of Francia. Inheritance Structures and Attitudes: Comparisons and Context

These conclusions require that the throne have been hereditary. Clearly it was: for Hugh Capet, then his son Robert, had been kings; then Robert’s eldest son was crowned, and after his death the second son succeeded. Indeed, so long as the line continued to produce sons, and the father-king remained in control of his succession, the crown

The Capetian Geschlecht 29 would continue to be hereditary. To dismiss this phenomenon as mere custom, as if custom were not law, is to miss the most vital aspects of the problem. ‘The scarcity of sources increases the difficulty of interpreting those few which do exist; yet the record these offer is severely incomplete. ‘The present study finds that the almost perfect analogy between the succession to Hugh the Great and that to Robert II adds

to the total view insights which are lacking in any formal text. To limit consideration to the explicit word of the chronicles risks seeing, therefore, not even what the writers actually saw, but only what they

chose to record, with the result that their echoes of broader social realities are often obscure. The key insights in this regard come from the high nobility, espe-

cially the territorial princes. This was the group from which the Capetians had now more or less emerged. Equals of the king in power, they attended his court and fought for or against him in circumstances conducive to mutual assimilation. Through direct reciprocal exchange with the Capetians, and simply as the highest figures normally seen by

local populations, their behavior helped form both the practice and the image of the monarchy.*? Inherited rank was, moreover, a pervasive social pattern among the great nobility of the early eleventh century. here were no novi homines among the magnates of Robert II's reign. ‘The newest of them were great-grandsons of the founders of their houses, and, except for the Normans, all of them were descended through women from quite ancient lines.°8 The customs and organization of these families closely paralleled those of the Capetians.

The dukes of Normandy practiced anticipatory association of the heir. From Rollo through William the Conqueror, every duke except Richard III, who had no legitimate issue, either associated his eldest son in the duchy or else had him formally recognized as heir to it.® Successional divisions offer other parallels. In 996, Richard I appointed his eldest son his successor and also designated the lands which the latter should assign to the cadets. In or by 1025, Richard II invested his eldest son with the ducal title and his second son with a

county; his younger cadets were later given lands or placed in the church.**" A similar plan was intended by William the Conqueror, who early named his eldest son heir to the duchy and assigned a county

to the second.’ The lands given in apanage tended to repeat: given to one cadet, often they reverted to the duke, then to be granted to another cadet. ‘Thus, when one brother of Richard II rebelled, his

30 The Capetian Geschlecht castle and lands in the Hiémois were confiscated; the duke later included them in his bequest to his own second son.1% ‘The county of Eu passed successively to two younger brothers of Richard IT. A ducal

cadet, then his son, held Brionne; at the son’s death without heirs, the county was given to a cousin from Burgundy. Avranches, confiscated from cousins, was intended for the second son of William the

Conqueror.’ The location of these holdings, on the borders of the duchy, where faithful tenants could aid in its defense and disloyal ones pose only a reduced threat, is a trait of the “marcher”’ apanage.*” At least some of these lands were acquisitions and thus not part of the

original ducal patrimony. Complementary data come from the house of Blois. In or by 1034, Odo II made both of his sons counts, retaining for himself the higher

title of count palatine. After his death in 1037, his sons appear— Theobald, the elder, with the paternal honores of Blois, Chartres, and

Tours; Stephen, the cadet, with the recent collateral inheritance of ‘Troyes and Meaux. After the latter’s death, ‘Theobald appears as over-

lord of Stephen’s son, whom he later dispossessed; after ‘heobald’s death, ‘Troyes passed successively to his two cadets, while his eldest son

inherited the bulk of the property and higher lordship over the whole.’ In both families, the same holdings recurred as the portions of younger sons, while the eldest got the patrimony. ‘The principle is the same as that which governed the Capetian transmission of Bursundy. Comparison need not be limited to the families of Normandy and Blois. Every measure which they employed is found widely in France—

notably, for present purposes, in other regions on every side of the Capetian lands, but also in more distant areas—for these or similar successional patterns appeared among the high nobility virtually as soon as their lands became hereditary. Most often, the chief honor and the patrimonial lands devolved undivided from father to eldest son, while cadets were given maternal or collateral inheritances or lesser holdings, married to heiresses, put into the church, or even disinherited.1°° ‘The particular forms taken varied with the quantity and status of available land, or with the intentions of the kinsmen, and often they were significantly different even from one generation to the next within the same family. ‘The only constant was that the chief holding went to the eldest son. Treatment of the cadets varied. ‘Chree or four different arrangements

The Capetian Geschlecht 31 appear in three generations of the counts of Amiens, the Vexin, and Valois. Walter I (d. ca. 998?) placed two of his cadets in the church, and probably disinherited two others, and so passed his entire estate to his eldest son. Walter II (d. 1017-1023) made one of his cadets a bishop but divided his inheritance between his eldest and one other son. Of these, Drogo of Amiens and the Vexin (d. 1035) left his entire inheritance to his eldest son; one of his cadets was made a bishop; the

other, who had inherited no title, went to England to serve, and be endowed by, his uncle, Edward the Confessor. Drogo’s brother, Ralph III of Valois (d. 1037?), left his patrimony to his elder son and his wife's

land to the second.’ In the counties of Burgundy and Macon, anticipatory association and estate partition were practiced by the first family of counts, in the 940s and later, and again around 1000 by Otto-William. The latter divided his holdings, associating his eldest son, then the latter’s son, in the county of Macon, while bequeathing Burgundy to his own second son; the third son became a cleric.*!° In the next generation of the counts of Burgundy, the eldest son inherited the whole, while the oldest cadet went to Normandy to receive provision from his cousin, the duke.1!! In later generations of the family,

after the acquisition of new lands, the successional plans again included divisions.1?2 By 1016, the count of Nevers had associated his eldest son in the county and married the second son to the heiress to Vend6me; his younger cadets were disinherited. In the next generation

of that line, only the oldest son inherited; in the next, yet another system was used.118

Generalization is hazardous and subject to qualification, but in broad terms it appears that, when additional holdings had been obtained, successional divisions were likely to occur; when acquisitions

were limited, cadets would be given little or even nothing in the succession in order to preserve the patrimony for the eldest son and thus the senior line. Thus, the eleventh-century counts of Angouléme, having but the one county, gave small acquisitions or border-holdings of diverse origin to their cadets. In each generation, they would bequeath lands to a maximum of two cadets; the only count who had more than that number placed two of his sons in the church.!** The complexity of the patterns increased whenever there were new sources of lands for the cadets, as when, early in the eleventh century, Bishop Hugh of Auxerre was able to provide for two of his lay nephews of the

| family of Semur-en-Brionnais, or when maternal or collateral inheri-

32 The Capetian Geschlecht tances were added to produce a temporary abundance of lands." Because of the factors of female inheritance and of the deaths without heirs of other kinsmen upon which they depended, such accumulations occurred only irregularly in the history of any one family.

Other variations are found within the framework of these customs. Anticipatory association of the heir in part or all of his prospective inheritance was practiced in divers forms, apparently in response to particular conditions." Occasionally, special circumstances, such as a man’s marriage to a greater heiress, would affect a reversal in the relation of the lands, and the more valuable and prestigious acquisition would become the chief possession, to be passed to the eldest son, while

the original patrimony of the father became a cadet’s portion of the inheritance.” The great body of indirect evidence indicates that these families were aware of the origins of their various holdings and that they arranged their successions in accordance with the nature of their title to each of their lands.118

Capetian familial structures are thus anchored in a societal base. From the dates and the geographical distribution of the cases reviewed, it is evident that such practices were widespread among the high nobility by the early eleventh century.* Possible elaboration of the system during the course of that century is an issue separate from the early adoption of its basic principles. It is significant that many of the cases noted, although contemporaneous with the Capetian arrangements under review, were different in detail from them and from each other. The best explanation for both the similarities and the variances is that these practices stemmed from shared customs and

attitudes rather than from specific lines of influence or imitation. Moreover, since the assumptions behind these customs were so widely held, it is almost inconceivable that these nobles could have watched the kings’ behavior with views not informed by the similar practices which they had seen nearer at hand, and many of them would almost certainly have projected their perception of themselves onto the royal family.1!° The result is to suggest baronial awareness of an analogy, or even identity, between the relation of the Capetians to their honor and lands and that of the nobles to theirs.

The sources demonstrate that the early Capetians and their contemporaries acted in conformity with that hypothesis. It is more difh* Some of the examples cited postdate the decades under examination; such cases are used here to verify earlier instances of the same occurrence.

The Capetian Geschlecht 33 cult to discover what they may have thought, but some insight is gained through examination of the growing recognition of the Capetians as a, or rather the, royal dynasty. The Capetians had come to the throne with the organization of a Geschlecht. How the family, once on the throne, was viewed by others can only be imagined, and that at

some peril. As Abbo of Fleury had remarked, Robert II had royal great-grandparents. The Capetians were not yet, however, a royal race. By the mid-eleventh century, they had become one—or were at least the family of the kings—and appraisal of them must be weighed accordingly. In the second decade of the century, old Bishop Adalbero of Laon wrote his Carmen ad Robertum regem. Of noble birth and a veteran of high politics, including those of 987, Adalbero was not awed

by Robert and freely criticized him. His views are extremely informative. He acknowledged Robert’s illustrious descent: “For long your ancestors have been called ‘King,’ ‘Emperor.’ You were nursed by an empress.” ‘he inaccuracy about Adelaide and the irony of “Emperor,

induperator’ are peripheral to the present consideration. Slightly later he said: What race bestows, let no one take away; The pedigrees of the nobles descend from the blood of kings; Noble birth is good praise to kings and leaders.120

Several pertinent ideas appear in these lines: the rights of blood, awareness of pedigrees (stemmata, which are rather old if they include

royal descent), the ostentation of birth. Perhaps most striking is the way Robert is classed with the nobles in all of these. Adalbero’s memory was long and accurate.

For lack of material, the king’s supporters could say little more. than this. Fulbert of Chartres prayed for Robert “‘nato stirpe nobilissimo.’’'!7! Such praise could have been addressed to any of the magnates. Slightly earlier than this, Dudo of Saint-Quentin had written of Duke Richard I that he had been born “the child of health-bringing

peace ... heir and successor” to the regnum haereditarium of Normandy.'” ‘This statement, whether or not descriptive of the period intended, did reflect a reality by the time it was written. It would have been patently false to have said such things about Robert.

By the mid-1020s, the situation was changing. Fewer people remembered pre-Capetian rule. Whatever Robert’s weakness in wider

34 The Capetian Geschlecht peace-keeping, he remained king. He was recognized; no one tried to depose him; he had conquered Burgundy; he was honored in Aqui-

taine.17 Most important, perhaps, he had sons. His eldest son, on whose consecration he had insisted, had matured into a promising youth: “Everyone called him Hugh ‘the Great’ from the cognomen of his great-grandfather.”’!*4 Familial piety may not fully explain why an adolescent living in his father’s household should have been called

by such a name; the sobriquet implies expectation on the part of those who used it. Moreover, since this Hugh was the eldest son of an only son of an eldest son—all of them kings—a pattern emerges which

suggests that in popular views, as well as in reality, the family was ordered in dynastic fashion with respect to the throne. When Hugh _ died, it apparently was not contested that one of his brothers should be

consecrated in his place, only which of them it should be; and the issues in dispute may have been more complicated, for other instances are known in which rights acknowledged to an eldest son did not, in the event of his death, imprescriptibly devolve upon the brother next in age.!?° Withstanding crises, Henry I’s rights—and the principle of primogeniture—were maintained. It is not known by what title, if any, in addition to the grace of God

the early Capetians claimed to reign. They received their authority _ from consecration and the consent of the magnates, to which each of them after Hugh Capet succeeded through the channels of familial inheritance. But they advanced no theory that is recorded to explain their rule as a dynasty. In particular, they did not publicize their Carolingian descent to serve as such a basis, and scholars have wondered why they did not do so, since in fact they and their queens were descended from Charlemagne.'*® The reason is probably that such a claim would have raised greater problems than it solved. For if Carolingian descent had been made a basis for Capetian rule, then almost all of their neighbors could have advanced a similar or better right to

the throne, and the latter knew it. Adalbero of Laon reflected this background with his remark about noble stemmata and the blood of kings. He doubtless was aware of his own royal descent, as were his cousins, the dukes and counts in Lorraine. So, certainly, were King Rudolf of Burgundy, grandson of Louis IV, and Rudolf’s nephew,

Odo II of Blois. So probably were the counts of Amiens, those of Anjou, and several others as well.127 Because of the genealogical context, it was necessary to rationalize

The Capetian Geschlecht 35 the rule of the new dynasty by other means. All known attempts to do so were made on an individual or local basis; there is no evidence of Capetian sponsorship for any of them.!*8 It was realized early that the

Carolingian dynasty had ended and a new family of kings taken its place. ‘This assumption is implicit already in the Historia Francorum Senonensis, which was written between 1015 and 1030. The author of this chronicle, who was highly critical of Hugh Capet, was probably influenced by old animosities from the circle of the late archbishop of Sens and also by current ecclesiastical rivalries. He conceived of rule

in dynastic terms—of Pippin’s election he wrote: “Here the family of Clovis comes to an end”; and with the anointment of Hugh and Robert: “Here the regnum of Charles the Great comes to an end.” The chronicler misrepresented genealogical and historical details to discredit Hugh: thus Charles of Lorraine was made Louis V’s brother and successor, against whom Hugh had rebelled. Arnulf’s treason was

not mentioned; Hugh was made to move against him because he wanted to exterminate the family of Lothair. Robert II was praised as a “most pious and modest king”’ but, for whatever reason, he was attacked through libel of his father. Still, Carolingian rule had ended; the usurper had sought to destroy that family; his son was king. ‘The text betrays a grudging recognition of the new dynasty.1”° Supporters of the Capetians replied in varying ways to the charge of

usurpation. Ihe common theme in their statements 1s that nothing

| illegal had occurred in 987. Already in the 990s, writers at Reims advanced two such arguments: first, that St. Remigius had ordained that the ruling dynasty be deposed if ever it oppressed the church;

then, that Hugh had been made king because Louis V had died without heir, that is, that the Carolingian line had died out.1®° During the reigns of Robert IJ and Henry I, some writers gave indirect sanc-

tion to the current monarchs by defending Hugh. Thus Aimoin of Fleury had the primates choose Hugh in preference to Charles of Lorraine, and Ademar of Chabannes had God raise Hugh, repudiating the Carolingians because they had neglected the church. Before 1031, a northern French monk wrote that Hugh had accepted the crown unwillingly. In the early 1040s, Odorannus, monk of Saint-Pierre-le-Vif at Sens, made the Capetians testamentary successors of the Carolin-

' gians: Lothair was said to have left his heir and the kingdom in Hugh’s custody. Helgaud of Fleury, panegyrist of Robert II, invoked genealogy to demonstrate his subject’s king-worthiness: “The crown

36 The Capetian Geschlecht placed on his head showed that by his grandparents and greaterandparents he had come from royal stock.’”’!*4

Other writers were explicit about the family. An Aquitanian writer of the late 1030s said that “when the second line of the kings of the Franks died out, the kingdom was transferred to the third.” In the 1040s, the Burgundian Raoul Glaber took a broad view: when the Carolingian emperors had died out, the Saxon kings had succeeded them; when the French Carolingians ended, the French chose as king Hugh Capet, kinsman of the Saxons. Glaber strongly praised the Carolingian monarchs, but he does not seem to have questioned the legitimacy of Capetian rule.!8? Probably before 1050, a monk of SaintValéry, near Abbeville, attempted to link his saint to the Capetians by claiming that St. Valery had appeared to Hugh Capet and had promised the throne to him and his heirs “until the seventh generation. ’’1**

An anonymous king-list from the reign of Henry I records the first two races, then names Hugh, Robert II, and Henry I as kings “ex alia familia.’’134 Some texts from later in the century follow the pattern of these texts. Most annals, however, simply list the succession of kings and sometimes their relation to one another. It cannot be proved that the annalists did not use the word “family” because they assumed it, but that is the impression many of them give.'*® Similarly, Odorannus of Sens did not use that word to describe the Capetians, even though he was writing under the third of them; but neither had he used such

a word for the Carolingians until he recorded the end of that dynasty.'®® Slightly later Angevin texts which condemn the entire Capetian line suggest that at least some of the kings’ critics shared the

same assumption.'*" |

The cumulative weight of such texts indicates that by mid-century the Capetians were regarded as the reigning family of kings. Evidence from the following decades tends to confirm this reading. After very few repetitions, the regular succession of son to father lent itself in the royalty, as in the great baronies, not only to the permanence of possession of the honor but to the accompanying attitudes. ‘This mentality is reflected in William of Poitiers’ note on the descent of Matilda of Flanders: “Her mother’s father was Robert, king of France, who, son and descendant of kings, begot kings.’188 Related ideas appear. Thus in 1063 the local bishop referred to the count of Nevers, grandson of Robert II, as “born of regal: genere,” and, somewhat in hyperbole, an epitaph of Henry I called him the “successor of the kings his

The Capetian Geschlecht 37 ancestors.” The ideas behind these expressions were probably long

familiar to their authors by the time these particular texts were written.1°° For them to be comprehensible requires a context in which the royal right of the Capetian family was recognized.

If such is the impression given by the texts, and seemingly confirmed by as much as is known about the succession to Robert II, the question arises: Why did the Capetians continue to associate their sons in the royalty during the father’s lifetime? It has usually been thought that such associations were employed during the period before the hereditary right of the family was established in order to guarantee the succession of the son of the reigning king. As a corollary of this view, the abandonment of the practice by Philip Augustus has been seen as proof that hereditary Capetian succession to the throne had been accepted by the end of his reign. A supplementary explanation has been that both kings and nobles used anticipatory association to avoid the fragmentation of their lands through division among their sons.'#° The truth seems to have been more complex and variable than either of these explanations, or both of them together. Interpretation of the associations of Capetian heirs has been unduly stamped by Richer’s account of the consecration of Robert II. Other texts present a different image. It is a useful corrective to examine what Dudo of Saint-Quentin says about the Norman ducal succession and

to compare his lessons with what Raoul Glaber wrote about the , Capetians. Neither account may be wholly accurate, but each is the rather detailed view of a single observer. Dudo records three Norman associations: those of William Long-

: sword with Rollo, of Richard I with William Longsword, and of Richard II with Richard I. Each one is different. He gives two versions of the first one. In the shorter one, Rollo, exhausted by age and the toil of battles, in the presence of the Norman and Breton principes gives the land under his rule to his son William, making the barons bind themselves to William by oaths. In the longer version, the

counts and principes come to Rollo on their own initiative and ask him to choose a leader for them, intending his son. He names William,

whom they accept as “dux haereditarius et opportunus.” William is brought to Rollo, who presents him to the barons as heir to his rule

| and leader in battle; at Rollo’s request, they swear fealty to William. ‘The motives ascribed to both sides are desire for defense against external enemies and the preservation of concord among themselves.'*

38 The Capetian Geschlecht The association of Richard I is presented differently. William had been joyful ‘‘nato haerede et successore” and was already thinking of his son’s succession when the boy was two years old. He spoke privately to three counts, his councillors, who recognized Richard as hereditary

duke and swore fealty to him; later he obtained similar oaths from seven of the most powerful optimates. Upon William’s assassination,

Richard, who was then about ten years old, was immediately proclaimed duke. The motives attributed to William were the wish that his son succeed him and the assurance of internal peace in the duchy through an uncontested succession. ‘The baronial speech delivered after his death stressed the need for a leader against outsiders.1*? Many

years later, when Richard I was failing in health, his half-brother Count Rodulf came to him with others of his fideles and addressed him: “Lord, pious duke, we grieve sadly that you are oppressed by illness; but tell us, we ask, which of your sons will be heir to the rule of your dominion.” He said: “By the authority of your counsel, the one who bears my name shall be duke and count and the heir to my inheritance.”

Count Rodulf asked: “What about the others, lord?’ ,

He replied: “To them, when by sworn oath of true faith they have become fideles of my son Richard, giving their hands in his in place of their hearts, he shall grant the land which I shall show you, so that they may live honorably.” 148

Dudo’s authority on these matters is high. He wrote at the request of Richard I and Richard IJ and of Count Rodulf, whom he described as his informant. As for the accuracy of his information, the association of William Longsword is implied by contemporaneous sources, and Dudo was often at the Norman court during the time when Richard I would have made his provisions. Furthermore, much of what he says is confirmed by other texts.'** It is possible that the last example is not one

of full association, but rather of designation. No charters exist by which to determine the position of Richard IJ at the end of his father’s life, but William of Jumiéges interpreted the material as meaning that Richard I had presented his son, who was “hailed as prince.’ Dudo’s

account is also very similar to the dispositions which William of Jumiéges records for the dying Richard II, who assigned the duchy to his eldest son and a county to his second son, and William’s account

of this last settlement is substantially confirmed by charters which | show both sons using these titles shortly before their father’s death.1*° | Besides, whatever distortions Dudo’s account may contain are indica-

‘The Capetian Geschlecht 39 tive of what was believed, or considered believable, and are thus part of the evidence; they must often approximate the conception held by

contemporaries or near-contemporaries who had not actually witnessed the events. In Raoul Glaber one finds expressions which are remarkably similar to Dudo’s. Lothair is shown making the young Louis V king “‘so that he

would reign after him.” By contrast, Hugh Capet is said to have associated Robert because, faced with disobedience from those who had been submissive to him when he was in full health, “he realized that he was failing somewhat in strength.”’ Of Robert it is said that “he had four sons by his aforesaid wife, and, providing for the succession to the

kingdom, he selected to reign after him the eldest of them, Hugh, who was still a boy.” The barons whom he consulted protested that the child was too young for the burdens of kingship, but, pushed by Constance,

Robert ignored their advice and had his son crowned. Later Constance’s cruel treatment of Hugh is contrasted to the manner in which

she had insisted that he be raised “so that he might not lack [or be deprived of, carere| the office of the realm.” After Hugh’s death, Robert “began to consider which of his remaining sons, in preference to the others, should reign after him.” He decided on Henry. Glaber also reports that upon their father’s death, Henry I, “having received

the paternal properties, established his brother, Robert, as duke of Buregundy.’’1*6

| Again, qualifications must be made. Raoul Glaber was but one observer. His explanation for the association of Robert IJ with Hugh Capet is contradicted by Richer’s more credible account. But another Burgundian writer of ca. 1050 gave almost the same reason as Glaber, so that version must have been current.!47 Another chronicle written

during the reign of Henry I said that Robert I] had made his son, Hugh, king “propter seditionem Principum Francorum” and Henry “prae timore Francorum.”?48 Although this chronicler may have known of plots which are otherwise unrecorded, there is no compelling reason to see in his expressions anything more than references to the

known wars of the reign: Robert’s struggle for Burgundy and some fighting with Odo II of Blois which ended in 1015 or 1016. No single construction need be put on his words except that distrust of the nobles was thought to have been a motive for the king’s actions. It thus appears that only contingencies differentiate Raoul Glaber’s account of royal succession from what Dudo had written thirty years

40 The Capetian Geschlecht earlier about the Normans. And the similarity is the more striking if one considers the differences between the two men. Dudo was Vermandasian, a cleric, living at the court of the Norman princes who had commissioned his work. Glaber was Burgundian, a Cluniac monk, writing at his monastery, with no known political attachment. ‘The two men were separated by one generation and by territorial distance and were writing different works for different purposes.’*” Yet they said much the same things. If both writings include some degree of idealization, which is likely, they are for that reason no less informative, since any such license would have brought the raw data into

greater conformity with the notions of political order held by the writers or their audiences. Indeed, since the parallelism is even clearer when their accounts are supplemented by other sources, the analogies seen here seem natural ones for contemporaries to have drawn. The very minimum is that the family and entourage of Richard IT of Normandy would almost certainly have perceived the crises of Robert II’s

succession in the light of their own experiences, and discovery of similar attitudes in Raoul Glaber suggests that the phenomenon may have been more common than the present sketch can verify. ‘The views

projected onto the royalty by an indeterminate number of laymen would have been formed by this background. This analysis implies the working of many interactions within noble society. In this context, contemporary statements of motivation are often misleading or incomplete, because they apply to a particular case only one factor of the several which may actually have figured. It 1s

revealing that in the course of their works Glaber and Dudo give three different reasons for anticipatory associations, and especially so

that each gives the same three: the father’s desire to guarantee the succession of a young son; appointment of a coadjutor to an aged or infirm father; designation of one of several sons as heir. ‘Uhe last explanation is the one both writers apply to the cases which they know best: Dudo to the dispositions of Richard I, Glaber to those of Robert II. The measure did not preclude estate divisions: Robert II intended Burgundy for his second surviving son; the younger sons of Richard | and the oldest cadet of Richard II were bequeathed apanages; the sons of Odo II divided their father’s inheritance, presumably following a

scheme he had laid down when making both of them counts.’”? In these families, the lands given as apanages tended recurrently to be the

same; the patrimony generally was kept intact; but it was only the latter whose indivisibility was so maintained. Yet the patrimony, the

The Capetian Geschlecht 4] lot of the eldest son who might be associated in his father’s title, was the portion of the family’s lands which was most indisputably hereditary. The two most current explanations of anticipatory association are incomplete. The conclusion emerges from a number of sources that the reasons

given by Glaber and Dudo are perfectly sound. One suspects the writers’ choices sometimes—that of Glaber for Robert’s association with Hugh Capet is inadmissible in that specific instance—but the explanations themselves were those produced by societal practice. ‘The Norman examples, particularly, suggest a modification in the appraisal of the custom of anticipatory association: One of its aspects appears as the promotion of familial order. By establishing a principal heir, it set up a distinct head of the family and ordered the transmission of property, allowing provision to be made for cadets while still bind-

ing them to the eldest. The themes of provision for, and concord among, the kinsmen recur in the texts, the latter quality in the form of obedience to the duke. Richard I designated which lands should be given to his cadets ‘‘so that they may live honorably,” but it was his heir who was to confer them, after his siblings had sworn fealty to him.'>' Richard II assigned a county to his second son “‘so that he will render the debt of obedience”’ to his elder brother. A half-brother of Richard II was given a county to secure his loyalty but lost it when

he rebelled; later he was given another one “so that henceforth he would love him [the duke] as a dearest brother.” A half-brother of Robert the Devil had been given a county by William the Conqueror ‘‘so that he would be faithful to him,” but then, “carried away by the nobility of his genus,” he seized another castle; defeated later in battle, he went into exile.1®? Other cadets were loyal to the dukes. ‘The advantages, as well as the risks, of relying on kinsmen are clear. It was neces-

sary to endow them as befitted their birth and to satisfy their ambitions, yet not to dismember the duchy or strip the heir to the honor. This balance could be effected most smoothly if the father himself prepared his succession, of which the anticipatory association of the heir was one guarantee. That the chosen heir was consistently the eldest son is part of a larger familial pattern. The sum of this ordering was provision for, yet subordination of, junior members of the family,

which, so arranged beneath and around its senior member and his office, was maintained in the form of a Geschlecht.

The Norman dispositions are very similar to some of those made for the succession to Robert II. In both cases of royal association, the

42 The Capetian Geschlecht king chose his eldest or eldest living son to succeed him, although in the second case, at least, he could have made a different choice. His plan for Burgundy, the end for which was probably never in doubt, changed considerably in timing and agency. After the crisis over the association of Henry I, Robert did not confer even the title of duke upon the new heir to the duchy, as he had done in 1016; instead he arranged for his successor to make the grant, thus binding the younger Robert to him. At roughly the same time, he deferred delivery of his daughter Adela’s dowry, leaving that too to his successor. Whether or not the bonds of kinship were strengthened by these measures, it is noteworthy that Robert of Burgundy did not join the revolts against Henry I and that Baldwin V of Flanders served in the king’s army.'** Odo, the youngest son, who had been left nothing, did join in a rebellion against his brother.?*4

In the matters treated here, disinheritance of the third son and what may have been a greater regard for the rights of the eldest are the only conspicuous differences between the organization of Robert II’s family and that of the Norman dukes. These variances might be

attributable to special considerations involving the crown, though virtually the same arrangement was seen in the succession to Hugh the Great. As to the succession itself, once the protests of the mid-1020s had been overcome, Robert appears to have proceeded in basically the

same manner as had Richard I. Caution is required in assessing the analogies between the two families, and, since the case of Henry I’s sons was completely different from that of Robert II’s, Robert’s provisions have no sequel by which to be tested. It emerges, notwithstanding, that anticipatory association in the Capetian dynasty was paralleled by that practiced by other princes and nobles and that the custom itself is no sure index to the status of hereditary royal succession. Far from being a sign of the family’s weakness, the measure may sometimes have protected the rights of the eldest against the claims of younger sons.

The data for the Robertinians and the first Capetians are extremely limited. Their familial structures are discernible from evidence which consists largely of fragments. ‘These fragments are of sufficient number and quality to permit reconstruction, in outline, of the dynastic pat-

tern which the family had assumed by the mid-tenth century, but many pertinent questions cannot be answered. In particular, it is un-

The Capetian Geschlecht 43 clear what, if any, changes in stresses or expectations within the new Capetian family system may have occurred during the seventy-five years between the death of Hugh the Great and that of Robert II. With respect to the kingdom, however, changes during the same period are apparent. The study of the royal charters by Jean-Francois Lemarignier has revealed a transformation in the kings’ acts for which the most pronounced changes occurred in the later years of the reign of Robert II. Already before that time, the geographical sphere and the nature of the kings’ activity had contracted, as royal influence in the distant regions of the kingdom had diminished. ‘The documents from the last six years of Robert’s reign reflect a new situation. In form, the royal acts no longer followed the style of the “public” acts of earlier

monarchs but displayed instead characteristics of the charters of private individuals; the king’s entourage changed from the ranking attendants of the Carolingian court to a group of men of varied class drawn from whatever locality the king was visiting at that moment; and finally, the consent of the queen and of the king’s sons was recorded in the acts. These signs point to a degradation in the nature of the royal acts which put most of them on the same level as those of any territorial prince.'°° The synchronism between the evidence for these developments and the history of the royal succession is somewhat misleading. For although in the extant sources the first clear indication of these changes coincides with the successional disputes of the mid-1020s, hints of the process are found earlier; and although the crises of those years may

well have influenced the diplomatics of royal charters, the broad transformation of which these are signs was of long duration. ‘The context was the fragmentation of the kingdom of the West Franks and

the emergence of territorial principalities, or subdivisions of these, as the effective units of rule. In these, typically, the dynastic family was the cadre for the exercise and transmission of the related rights of lordship and property. Within this setting, the evolution of Capetian familial structures, and the patrimonialization first of their dukedom, then of the royalty itself, were paralleled by the history of neighboring

families and lordships. ‘The royalty occupied the same place to the Capetians, considered as a family and viewed through the succession,

that the surrounding duchies or counties did to the families of their dukes or counts.

2 / The Consolidation of Dynastic Forms in the Eleventh and ‘Twelfth Centuries

‘Traditional studies, which focused on the crown, have measured the establishment of hereditary Capetian royal right by the incidence of the anticipatory association of Capetian heirs. Accordingly, the chronological frame for their view was fixed by the extreme dates of that practice: 987 and 1223, the latter being a terminus ante quo as the date of the first Capetian succession in which the measure was not used. ‘The present investigation, because of its own stresses, has found the date 987 an unsatisfactory point of departure. Yet while the history of the Capetians as a dynasty should be begun no later than the lifetime

of Hugh the Great, no discontinuities in their familial structures during the two and one-half centuries following Hugh’s death mark portions of that time as units for separate study. For the sake of the organization of material, this chapter will take as its limits the reigns of the four immediate successors to Robert II, that is, the time between the establishment of the family on the throne and the great expansion of the royal power under Philip Augustus.

The decades under examination are conceived in no way as a distinct period, but simply as a chronological span. ‘The selection of terminal date may be justified by factors of methodology since, in contrast to the reign of Philip Augustus, the documentation for his predecessors’ reigns is sO sparse as to impose severe restrictions on the kinds of inquiry which may be based on it. If, moreover, Philip’s reign is viewed as a turning-point in regard to Capetian power, it will be useful to assess the status and organization of the family prior to that time. Finally, it is possible, however debatably, to trace the history

of the Capetian family during those generations in terms of specific traits which either had been established by Philip’s reign or else ap-

peared in altered form in the thirteenth century. For present purposes, the primary themes are the succession to the throne, the preferment of the eldest son, and the royal right of the family. ‘Che sources

are inadequate for a comprehensive survey of these topics. Even a 44

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 45 clear progression in strength for the relevant practices and ideas is unverifiable, although a cumulative effect of increased force to them over the course of several decades can sometimes be discerned. Because

of the nature of the evidence, the data will be treated chronologically

in order to reduce the danger of distortion through ill-founded schematizations. Family Structures and the Crown, ca. 1050-ca. 1160

Capetian history from the second half of the eleventh century is poorly documented. No royalist historiography is known to have been

written during that time, and for present purposes the information preserved in texts of other genres is meager indeed. The outline of the family can be traced, and several fragments of suggestive evidence appear. Uhese, however, are often unexplained, and they contribute as much by demonstrating the limitations of the extant data as they do by the speculation which they prompt.

The record from the reign of Henry I is sparse, but some of its lessons clear. The king’s marriages are revealing: Henry I married deliberately and well. In 1033, to seal an alliance against Odo II of Blois, he became engaged to a daughter of Emperor Conrad II. She died within one year. Henry then prolonged the alliance by marriage to another German princess, Matilda. Both women were less than ten years old at the time of betrothal, so in neither case was there prospect

of rapid consummation. Matilda died in 1044; she had borne one daughter, who died in childhood.' In 1051, Henry married Anna, daughter of Yaroslav I, grand duke of Kiev. Henry had perhaps first heard of such a princess in 1043, when Yaroslav had sent an embassy to

propose marriage between one of his daughters and Emperor Henry ITI, and in 1049 he sent his own envoys to Russia to seek one of them.?

The high rank of Henry I's brides, and the leisurely pace with which he contracted his third match, suggest that he was searching for a woman whose birth befitted a queen while restricted in that search by his consanguinity with any French lady of appropriate standing. One is struck by the dynastic confidence that allowed him to pass five years as a widower before sending for a bride, and almost seven years before remarrying, childless, at the age of forty-one or more.? By Anna, Henry had three sons: Philip, Robert, and Hugh, the first

of them born probably within a year of the marriage. Henry I died

46 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries in 1060. He had had his eldest son, Philip, made king with him the preceding year. Robert died in childhood. Hugh survived and was married to the heiress to the counties of Valois and Vermandois.* The form of Philip I’s consecration is known from an extant protocol of the ceremony, but the circumstances behind the event are obscure. A later chronicle says that, since Henry I was “burdened with illness and old age,” he assembled the nobles, making Philip king and

having him crowned with their consent.’ Parts of this account are demonstrably accurate. Henry’s life had been sufficiently strenuous for him to be failing by age fifty, though he was still vigorous enough to be planning another campaign against William of Normandy, even if he did not live to execute it.6 Consciousness of his own declining

health and the desire to assure the smooth succession of his young son were probably the motives for his action. One notes in passing that

Philip I received the entire paternal inheritance. The protocol of 1059 is very informative about the place of election in the royal succession. ‘The archbishop of Reims addressed the assembly, expounding to them his prerogative first to “elect” and consecrate the king. Each prelate and baron present was asked his word

on the proceedings; then the milites and populi shouted their approval. Henry I observed the entire proceeding. The constitutive act of election was thus nothing more than ratification or consent. Fifteen years later, William of Jumieéges, writing about the Normans, used the word to mean “to acknowledge” or ‘“‘accept’” an heir.” Whatever the forms of the ceremony of 1059, which have been much discussed, the chronicler appears correct in assigning initiative and control to Henry I, who, with the advice of the primores, “established his son Philip as his companion in the entire realm and, having the diadem placed upon

his head, ordered that he be called king.’ The chief significance of this association is the sequel to it: when the father died, the son was maintained as king. Soon after Henry I’s death, the archbishop of Reims wrote to the pope bemoaning the turbulence of the French barons; but such outbreaks of violence, which were frequent in any case, were inevitable during a minority, and they had little to do with Capetian blood-right. More important, Henry I had appointed his brother-in-law, Baldwin V of Flanders, as procurator for Philip and the kingdom, and Baldwin put down disturbances “both by counsels and by arms.’’ With the queen mother to an undetermined degree sharing in some of the power, Baldwin ruled

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 47 in Philip’s name until the young king reached adolescence. ‘Then the regent resigned the government to him.”

In 1072, Philip I married Bertha, daughter of the late count of Holland and stepdaughter of Robert the Frisian, who had just seized the county of Flanders. Philip’s marriage sealed his reconciliation with

the powerful Robert. Through her mother, Bertha was descended from the Welf dukes of Saxony. The match thus combined distincuished lineage with political utility. Philip I and Bertha had an unknown number of children. Louis, the oldest, was born in late 1081; a daughter, Constance, soon followed; a Henry, who would have died in childhood, is mentioned in later texts.!° At this point, the lack of sources is telling. ‘The anomalous patterns of names given in two consecutive generations of the family testify to the existence of ideas which are otherwise unrecorded. ‘The names of Henry I’s younger sons, Robert and Hugh, were agnatic, as had been those of Henry himself and of his father and brothers. Such was the

pattern of royal houses generally and of at least the eldest sons of noble families—unless there was strong reason to modify the custom.!? But the name Philip was unknown among the ancestors of Henry I and

: rare in France at that time. Its origin is thought to lie in the family of Anna of Kiev; it was not used by her Russian ancestors, but her grand-

mother, another Anna, had been a Byzantine princess of the Macedonian dynasty, which claimed descent from Philip of Macedon. No extant document gives such descent as the reason for the king’s name, and there seems to be no special attention paid to Philip of Macedon

in French texts of the period. One source even gives a different explanation of the name, but this one is a fantastic etymology which cannot be taken seriously. There is no proof of anything.’? One can only recall Henry I’s evident care to find illustrious wives and assume that he must have had a weighty motive for abandoning family tradition in the naming of his heir. When the same thing happens again with Philip I’s sons, and the

| eldest is given a Carolingian name, it is obvious that more was involved than the texts state. It has sometimes been suggested that the decades under review long predated any effort to trace Carolingian descent for the Capetians and that that impulse came only later, in part under the stimulus of twelfth-century chansons de geste. That may be true for the main thrust, but the generalization is misleading; for while granting the development and diffusion of the heroic image

48 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries of Charlemagne in the twelfth century, there remains the immense prestige of the Carolingians in the eleventh century as well. ‘The obvious explanation for the naming of Louis VI—that it was meant to

link the prince to the Carolingians—is seldom advanced, and then | rather weakly so, because the sources do not make such a claim. But the contemporaneous texts are so few and of such nature that their silence in this regard is almost meaningless.’

Clearer inferences can be drawn, if indirectly, from a survey of eleventh- and twelfth-century patterns of name-giving. The higher nobility had so intermarried that by about 1100 most of the comital families of the northern half of France were descended from Charlemagne, and many of them knew it.'® Yet, as if by taboo, the great

majority, including the most powerful of them, did not give the names Charles or Louis to their children. Instead, they named at least

their elder sons for close relatives; younger sons often were given names foreign to the direct line, such as those of famous cousins, god-

fathers, or others. The only Charles that I have found from the | eleventh century is the later count of Flanders; and he was born in Scandinavia, heir apparent to the Danish throne, and so was not part

of the Germanic-Latin culture treated here until the accidents of | revolution drove him to Flanders. ‘The only prominent eleventh-cen- , tury Louis’s were the counts of Mousson and of Chini, born of lines that had used that name as early as about 1000 and for whom it had

become a patronymic. In other families, the name Louis was used only after the birth of Louis VI had reintroduced it into some currency, and even then it appears largely among collateral relatives of the Capetians, as if to advertise that kinship. That the consistent avoidance

of these names by so many lines of Carolingian descendants would not have been coincidental is implied by the fact that the same families did use other, less prestigious, Carolingian names—especially Arnulf—

and they often gave their daughters the characteristic Carolingian names for women, such as Gisele or Bertha. In the absence of formal

testimony from the time, hypothesis is speculative, but it is apparent | that Charles and Louis were peculiarly significant names which were not thought suitable for general use. Rather, they seem to have been invested with special connotations which many of the nobility would

have recognized. In this context, use of the name Louis for the heir to the throne attributed to him by allusion a kind of Carolingian royalty and very probably Carolingian descent.

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 49 Surviving hints of inchoate dynasticism point to similar conclusions.

The attribution of Frankish royal descent is explicit in an epitaph of

Philip I written at Fleury: “This king was of the family of great Priam,” it said.1® The text appears to be from the early twelfth century, but its value for the understanding of earlier decades is uncertain. Another index of probable sentiment may be found in the royal tombs: five generations of early Capetians were buried together in the church of Saint-Denis, at least four of them side by side in front of the matutinal altar. The existence of a family necropolis implies a kind of self-consciousness which in this case was probably dynastic, since only the senior line was normally interred there.’ It is likely that the development of an official Capetian cemetery at Saint-Denis would have encouraged assimilation of that dynasty to the earlier kings who

were buried there. Since many of the graves were unmarked and probably none of them had effigies, there were no visual signs of royal

continuity, but the burial sites of the heroic kings were known, and they may well have been enough to prompt such associations. ‘The only

, certainty, however, is later, implicit testimony that the tombs were

: noticed.18

: Evidence derived from religious circles at Soissons reflects sup- positions of a dynastic character. With Louis VI, for the first recorded

, time, a story about the birth of a Capetian heir has come down. The | tale 1s archetypical. ‘The queen had long been barren when the king, | both in person and through others, entreated St. Arnulf, abbot of Saint-Médard, to intercede with God “‘that He be willing to give hima

| son as successor for the safeguard of the kingdom and the defense of Holy Church.” The abbot at first refused, fearing the honor of men, but then he consented, telling the queen to care especially for the poor. Some time afterward, he told a monk to go to the queen: “And you will

| announce to her the wished-for joy, for she is bearing in her womb a son, whom at the holy font she shall name Louis and who after his father’s death will hold the kingdom of the French.” The saint spoke from revelation: not until five days after receiving his message did the queen feel the child move within her. The announcement has been put into verse, and some of the details embellished, so that portion of the

text may be of late composition. In it the child is given “vobis et | regno”; he is “ille puer magnus” who, “while he lives, meek as a lamb, will reign over the French.” The tale is found in a saint’s vita which was finished by 1114. Its author’s wish to demonstrate Arnulf’s holi-

50 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries ness by his prophecy of, indeed responsibility for, the birth of the reigning king probably caused some embroidery of the original account, but the poem is more subject to this suspicion than is the prose narrative, and some of the circumstances mentioned in the latter are historical.1® Whatever the age of the core of the report, before 1114 Louis VI was thought by some not only to have been born heir to the

throne but to have had his birth attended by miraculous elements. The tale is isolated, but some background must be imagined for the attitudes reflected by it. Some significance, too, should be attached to the name Louis, since it was said that the saint had directed its choice.

The Macedonian and Carolingian allusions were probably little stressed, since they are never explained. Before 1088, the monks of Saint-Riquier, in Ponthieu, had taken up the legend of St. Valery’s appearance to Hugh Capet and had changed it, so that now it was St. Riquier who had promised the throne to Hugh and seven generations of his descendants. Perhaps because of the competition between the monks of Saint-Riquier and those of Saint-Valéry on behalf of their respective saints, the tale was spread rather widely in northeastern France and Normandy.”° The premise behind this legend—that because of their merits God had raised the Capetians to the throne for a fixed period of rule—is antithetical to a formula which would base their reign on Carolingian descent. In fact, however, neither of these claims appears in the authoritative texts from the reign of Louis VI.?! Practical events and statements prove the existence of a royal bloodright. In 1092, Philip I repudiated Bertha and eloped with Bertrada of

Montfort, wife of Count Fulk IV of Anjou. Bertrada and the king were reconciled with Fulk and were married by an obliging bishop, but the illicit union incurred higher ecclesiastical censure, and Philip was excommunicated.” For present purposes, the interest of the match is not the scandals it produced, but the children. Three were born: Philip, Florus, and Cecile.?* Louis, however, was recognized as heir. He was given the lordship of Mantes, Pontoise, and the county of the Vexin, Philip I’s acquisitions from the succession to Simon of Crépy.*4 Since Louis was only eleven at the time, this grant may have been intended to affirm his special status. Rivalry with Bertrada ensued. She was said to be plotting Louis’s death so that her own sons might succeed to the throne.?? ‘The role of Philip I is unclear. Early in 1098, Louis led the forces of the Vexin in defensive warfare against William Rufus, but then he retired from the campaign, apparently because of

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 5] disputes with his father. In May of that year, he was knighted at Abbeville by the count of Ponthieu, a reflection of his estrangement

from the royal court. Soon he was reconciled with his father, for before the end of 1100 he appears with the title rex designatus, and from then onward he played a very active role in the royal government.

Philip apparently had presented him to an assembly of bishops and nobles and had had them “‘elect’’ him as king and heir, although Louis remained king-designate and was not consecrated during his father’s lifetime.?°

The reconciliation included, or came to include, provision for the young Philip, the elder of Philip I’s sons by Bertrada. In 1104, this son was matried to the heiress to the castle of Montlhéry; at the same time, at their father’s wish, Louis gave the castle of Mantes to this Philip “so that he [the latter] would be firmly bound to him [Louis] in affection.” Then or soon afterward, Louis himself was betrothed to a cousin of his brother’s wife, Lucianna, daughter of the lord of Rochefort; this engagement was annulled by the pope in 1107.27 Provision was made for Philip I’s daughters through marriage. Constance was married first to Hugh, count of Champagne, but in 1104 or 1105 that marriage was dissolved because of consanguinity, and in 1106 she

was married to Bohemund, prince of Antioch; at the same time, Bohemund arranged for the other daughter, Cecile, to be sent to Antioch as bride for his nephew, Tancred.28 No provision appears to

, have been made for the youngest son, Florus. After the death of Philip I, which occurred in July 1108, Bertrada retired with her sons by him to Anjou, the county of her first husband and of her eldest son, where,

at an undetermined date, she took up residence at the abbey of Fontevrault. Florus remained in Anjou for some years afterward. At an

unknown date, he was married to a minor heiress from southern Champagne.”®

The measures which Philip I took regarding the fortunes of his children reflect a variation in familial practice which served to enhance the position of the heir to the throne. The point has significance for an appreciation of the reign. Philip I has often been denigrated by historians of the Capetian monarchy, largely because of Suger’s unfavorable portrait of him. Revisionist scholars, by contrast, have pointed to his territorial gains as achievements of his reign.®° It has been overlooked, however, that Philip I was either the initiator or the first major practitioner of a policy by which the kings’ acquisitions were not be-

52 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries queathed to their cadets, as in noble families, but were retained for the benefit of the eldest son. A similar tendency may perhaps be seen in the familial dispositions of Henry I, although that is uncertain, but under Philip I the measures show the consistency of deliberate policy. First, Philip provided very well for his brother Hugh by marriage without bestowing on him any of the paternal properties. At the

first marriage of his elder daughter, Constance, Philip ceded the village of Attigny as dowry to her husband, who retained it after the union was annulled, but Constance’s second and Cecile’s first marrlages were to foreign princes who required no dowry in land. The king assured the estate of his elder son by Bertrada by marriage to an heiress; the enfeoffment with Mantes, which the father arranged for Louis to give to the younger Philip, was intended to promote harmony

between the brothers, as was Louis’s betrothal to a cousin of his brother's wife.?! Florus was bequeathed nothing that is known. Since Philip I had inherited his father’s and grandfather’s acquisitions of Sens, Melun, and Dreux, to which he had added his own of the Gatinais, the Vexin, and Bourges, his provisions for his cadets were parsimonious. With the accompanying preferment of the eldest son to a new degree, the family was given a pronounced vertical, dynastic form. By 1108, this structure was already a generation old. Louis VI, in turn, would repeat it with his sons.

Louis VI’s accession to the throne was troubled. When Philip I died, his heir had not yet been crowned. Immediately after Philip’s burial at Fleury, the bishops assembled at Orléans, where Louis was consecrated by the archbishop of Sens, the see of Reims being then in dispute. ‘he best account of the proceeding is a circular letter written soon afterward by Bishop Ivo of Chartres in response to allegations of impropriety by the archbishop of Reims, who claimed the right of consecration for himself. Ivo maintained that the ceremony had been performed “‘for the common utility of regnum and sacerdotium”: “For there were certain regni perturbatores who were trying either to transfer the kingdom to another person or to reduce it substantially. With the help of God, we strove as best we could to prevent this thing from happening, both for the integrity of the kingdom and the tranquillity of the churches.’ The action was just, because “rightly was he consecrated as king, to whom the kingship pertained by hereditary right and whom the common agreement of the bishops and proceres had long since elected.’’*?

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 53 Ivo’s word is authoritative: he was present at Orléans, and other sources confirm his account. Suger, writing much later, credited him with being the main instigator of the hurried coronation in order “to confute the machination of impious men” who, “had it been possible,’ would have excluded Louis from the throne. Clarius of Sens gives an unverifiable account of the refusal of many counts to do homage to the new king. Texts from Fleury and Saint-Denis also note Louis’s difficulties.®? It is difficult to judge the evidence. That Louis

was unconsecrated at his father’s death must have encouraged the unrest, but successions were customary times for unruly barons to seek their own advantage. Henry I’s refusal to do homage for Normandy, at least, appears not to have been a denial of Louis’s right to the French

throne but rather an attempt to remove himself and Normandy from a vassal relationship.** At some time, Bertrada’s son, Philip of Mantes, was put forward as a rival for the throne, but the date of those efforts is uncertain and may well have been late.*® It is suggestive that the

texts which record Louis’s trials all attribute their resolution to his energetic campaigns, not to the effect of his consecration. His troubles are obscure, but distortion in the assessment is perhaps minimized by following the writers themselves in placing most stress on baronial turbulence per se. As the sole case in early Capetian history in which the death of the king left an unconsecrated heir, the accession of Louis VI has received

| much scholarly attention, and properly so, for the documents are significant. ‘Che issue of Capetian blood-right came to the forefront. ‘The

events themselves bespeak the right of the son to succeed to the father. Differently informative is the declaration by Ivo of Chartres that it was right to consecrate him to whom the kingship belonged jure haereditario and who had been elected by the bishops and lords. This statement would seem to make hereditary right the first qual1fication for the candidate; subsequent election and consecration were the constitutive acts which made him king. Ivo’s assumption of the ideas of royal blood and hereditary royal succession is shown by other texts of his; that in this one he mentioned the translatio regni Francorum in progeniem Hugonis Magni is an additional proof.%* Clarification of the order of priorities which Ivo expressed is found in the : ordo which appears to have been used at the consecration of Louis VI. First, the blessings of God are invoked for His servant, “whom we have elected to be king.”’ Only after the anointing is the new monarch called

54 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries king. Then he is given the ring, crowned, presented the scepter and staff, then blessed. Then the officiant declares to him: “Stand and retain henceforth by hereditary right the status assigned to you by the authority of Almighty God and by the present delivery from us, that is, all the bishops and other servants of God, which until now you have held by your father’s nomination.’’®* Here, as in Ivo’s record, the heir is elected preparatory to consecration, and by the anointing he becomes king, but he is given the kingdom jure haereditario by divine

commission. The blood-right emerges as the essential element of the three. The blood-right did not necessarily belong to Louis alone: his halfbrothers might have had unsatisfied claims on the succession. Suger is the only source for this question, and he was partisan. First, he mentioned as incongruous any idea that Bertrada’s sons might succeed to the throne. After Louis’s accession, however, his brother Philip was “unerateful” for the gift of Mantes, and “he dared to rise up because of confidence in his very noble genus.’ Bertrada put together another plot, allying with Philip and herself her eldest son, Fulk V of Anjou, and her brother, Amalric of Montfort. ‘Uhey were all wildly eager, since, 1f Louis VI should die, “another of the brothers would succeed, and thus the whole consanguinitatis linea with great rejoicing would raise their necks to the throne of the kingdom through participation in the honorand dominium.” Suger presents this as a depraved scheme. He was bitterly hostile to Bertrada, and his own view of the kingship allowed little sharing in it.8

In practice, Louis VI, while slighting his brothers, exalted his queen and his heir. In this respect, the familial pattern of Louis VI contrasts with that of his father. ‘The question of Louis’s marriage had stirred the court periodically over a span of some ten years. When king-designate, he had been betrothed to the daughter of the lord of Rochefort; this engagement had been annulled by the pope in 1107 at the request of Philip I and of Louis. ‘The grounds cited were consan-

guinity, but the contemporary chronicler Clarius recorded that the engagement was dissolved “because it was unbecoming to the royal dignity and it displeased the counts of the kingdom.’’®® Around 1109, Count Hugh of Champagne proposed a marriage between his cousin,

the daughter of the marquis of Montferrat, and the king. Louis agreed, , but then it was discovered that the girl had not been born of legitimate union. Ivo of Chartres urged Hugh to abandon the plan, because the

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 55 match was neither honesta nor wtilis and it would cause the nobles to turn away from the king.*? No more is heard of a royal marriage for

four or five years. In the meanwhile, the king was living somewhat loosely. The texts are silent about his private life, but one illegitimate daughter is known to have been born to him, probably while he was king-designate, and he may have had a prolonged liaison with the girl’s

mother, who remained in his company after he became king.*! How much scandal was current is not known, but when, in 1113 or 1114, it was announced that the king would marry, Ivo of Chartres found it appropriate to remark in his congratulatory letter that the marriage would silence Louis’s detractors and would please God and men who valued the king’s reputation and the solidaritas of the kingdom. He also indicated that in the past he had lectured the king on the dangers which his unmarried life posed to his salvation.*? In 1115, Louis married Adelaide, sister of the count of Maurienne.* As queen, Adelaide was paid greater honors than any other Capetian consort. Royal charters were dated by her “reign” as well as Louis’s;

she shared in the royalty, even in the safeguard of churches.** Her status is difficult to define. She figured in the king’s acts even after

| the association of a rex junior; in some of them she took precedence over the anointed co-regent, in others she followed him, although charters from this period were dated only by the regnal years of the

, two kings, no longer by hers.*® There is no sure explanation for the special position accorded her. Louis VI presumably would not have known of the standing of Hugh Capet’s wife, and more recent Capetian queens had not been so honored. The most likely reason for the attention is that Louis wished to reinforce the legitimacy of his marriage and of his heir, probably in reaction to the scandals of his father’s later years.

Louis VI’s provisions for the royal succession were most careful. He married perhaps chiefly to beget an heir. Merely upon hearing of the engagement, Ivo of Chartres, with his congratulations, had sent him unsolicited advice. Wishing Louis’s salvation and that God would guide the kingdom through his hand, he admonished that “‘if the Spirit of God is in you, you must provide for the stability of the kingdom and the peace of the churches just as for your own utility,” all of which would be “‘sundered in many pieces if you should depart this life with-

out a successor.” Thus he urged the marriage with all haste.4® The first son born was given the name of his paternal grandfather, as was

56 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries common for heirs. It is suggestive of the attitude of the royal circles that two different chroniclers, at Saint-Denis and at Sens, recorded the date of this son’s birth, a rare notice.*” The child was not yet four years old when Louis VI “commanded” an Easter assembly of bishops and

nobles to swear to crown him king after Louis’s death. Immediately afterward, Philip’s consent was noted in certain of the royal charters, most of which call him “our son,” although some style him rex designatus.*® In 1129, in his thirteenth year, he was consecrated as king. Since the association followed soon after Louis VI had seized control of

the government from Stephen of Garlande and Amalric of Montfort, the coronation of the heir may have been part of a plan to strengthen the father-king’s position.*” From the time of his own consecration, Philip appears in the texts concurring in or subscribing most of his father’s acts, but with no independent role as king.®° He died on 13 October 1131, after being thrown from his horse, and was buried with royal honors at Saint-Denis.*! Louis VI was badly shaken by the event. Worried by the king’s poor

health, Suger and others of the royal circle urged him to make his second son, Louis, “king with him to thwart any uprising by his opponents.” This son, then aged eleven, accordingly was taken to Reims, where the pope was holding a council, and there, on 24 October, he was consecrated by the pontiff.5? Orderic Vitalis noted that the consecration “displeased some of the French of both orders”: For after the death of the prince, some laymen hoped to increase their fiefs; some

clerics sought to obtain the right to elect and constitute the prince. For these reasons, therefore, some grumbled about the ordination of the boy, which they doubtless would have tried to impede, had they been able to do so. When, however, the king learned that because of the recent ceremony novel pretensions were stir-

ring in his kingdom, he was angry at those who tried to withhold the kingship from his son, and he resolved to take deadly vengeance.58

This account must be read with caution. Its chief value is the record of the motives behind the dissatisfaction. Those Orderic probably knew. The rest is a retrospective impression which is marred to the extent that Orderic was not always well informed about the Capetian court, was a believer in hereditary right, and was writing after the outbreak of the wars over the succession to Henry I of England would have affected his perspective.** Suger’s concern about possible disorder

if Louis VII were not associated seems more apt. Other chroniclers do not mention any opposition to the coronation of Louis VII.

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 57 The new co-regent was too young to take an active part in the government. Although his consent or subscription is recorded in many

of his father’s charters, and most of these were dated by the regnal years of both kings, Louis VI retained to himself a superior degree of kingship.®> The son had been “crowned,” ‘anointed,’ “raised’’—and, as the charters repeated, he was the junior rex—but all apparent initiative was held by the father. The latter kept for himself a ring, obviously of great significance, with which he invested his son when he thought himself to be dying in 1135. This act was a transferral of the monarchy, but a revocable one, for Louis VI resumed control of the government when he recovered from that illness.5® The association was thus not an equal partnership; it was a means of assuring the automatic succession of the heir without disorder. ‘This is the sense of Suger’s later statement that, in making his son king, Louis VI had “provided for the kingdom a happy successor.”’>? When the old king died, Louis VII was in Aqui-

taine. He quickly returned to France to avert the usual interregnal disturbances. His accession was uncontested.*®

Louis VI’s regulation of the royal succession should be viewed in

| relation to his other familial arrangements. It does not appear that he had any comprehensive plan, although that is uncertain, given the youth of his children. The only consistent elements documented are the transmission of the crown to his eldest son and the placement of one or more of his cadets in the church, but hints of concurrent mo-

, tives are also found. One notes, first, that the entire family seems to have been royal. Carolingian descent is attributed to Louis VI in a letter of 1121 from Calixtus II. ‘The pope praised “your fathers, the kings of the French,” who after receiving the Christian faith had been especially bound to the Roman Church. They had left their reverence, obedience, and love to their descendants “‘as if by hereditary right... so that you who, descending from the same royal progenies, have succeeded in the government of this kingdom,” have succeeded them also in probity of morals and are heir to their devotion to the church.*® ‘The terms of this letter would make Louis VI a descendant of Clovis and surely of Charlemagne too. A royal charter from four years later

voices a similar theme, its harenga proclaiming: “With the favor of the Lord, raised to the throne of our fathers, we have assumed the

, government of the kingdom of the French.’’® Awareness of lineage is reflected also in the pattern of the names given to the children. Louis VI and Adelaide had at least eight sons,

58 : The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries of whom the names of seven are known, and one daughter, Constance. The three eldest sons, in order of birth, were Philip, Louis, and Henry; the next two were Robert and Hugh, of whom Robert was almost cer-

tainly the elder; the last two known were Peter and a second Philip, born after the death of the elder son of that name.*! Not only were most of the names agnatic, but—if, in fact, Robert was older than Hugh —they form a progression, following in reverse the order of kings 1n the

Capetian dynasty. The eldest son was named for his paternal grandfather, the second for the king himself, the third for the king’s grandfather, and so on.®* Constance was probably named for her father’s sister, who had been named for Constance of Arles. The names would all have been familiar to Louis VI—from family tradition, charters, memorabilia, and various associations.® Only the name Peter was not Capetian; but it was the name of a maternal uncle of Louis, of an ancestor of Adelaide, and of the saint with whose successors Louis VI claimed to have a special relationship.® ‘The choice of that name for the sixth or seventh son probably reflects the exhaustion, for the moment, of traditional agnatic names. ‘The stress on patrilineal kinship

contrasts with the variation of names given to Philip I’s children and again testifies to dynastic sentiment. ‘The youth of the royal cadets is almost unknown, but in adulthood they proclaimed their royal birth and kinship in their charters and on their seals.6° Remarks addressed

to, or recorded about, them document a contemporary awareness of their royal birth, and fragments of information about their behavior suggest concordant inferences.®©

These sons might wish, or be expected, to share in the privileges of royal birth. ‘The ambitions of younger sons have already been seen among the sons of Robert II and of the Norman dukes. Louis VI’s plans for his cadets are unclear. He had earlier dispossessed his halfbrother, Philip of Mantes, thus reuniting in his hands virtually all of the lands which their father had held.®** Among these, the acquisitions

made by Philip I and his two predecessors were not part of the Capetian patrimony, and accordingly the eldest son had no overriding

claim to them, as the first grant of Mantes had shown. Louis VI was prepared, moreover, to alienate even major holdings, if such a step were useful to him. In January 1127, Jeanne, half-sister of Queen Adelaide, was married to William Clito, nephew of Henry I of Eng-

land and his rival for the duchy of Normandy. Louis promptly enfeoffed William with the entire Vexin, and soon afterward William

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 59 went with arms to claim his Norman heritage.®* All parties were soon diverted by the contest over the Flemish succession which followed the murder of Charles the Good. The wars in Flanders have drawn much

scholarly attention. It has not been noticed that immediately before these events Louis VI had endowed his new kinsman with a frontier apanage, a military march with clear tactical purposes, from which William at once moved against their common enemy. As feudal strategy, Louis’s stroke was masterful. He had opened the way for the accession in Normandy of a kinsman who would be bound to him by gratitude as well as homage—at the cost of removing from royal possession one of the most important Capetian acquisitions. At William's

death, the Vexin reverted to the king, obscuring the significance of the episode. Louis VI’s reputation as a consolidator of Capetian power would be different if unforeseeable events had not altered his earlier plan. No source reveals whether the king planned any division of his lands among his sons. The frequent statement that he assigned the county of Dreux to his cadet, Robert, may have stemmed originally from the unsupported word of an eighteenth-century theorist of the apanages; the assertion is inaccurate.® That Louis VI, or his chancery, was aware that his cadets might have some claims is implied by two of his charters from the 1120s—one reserving his rights of fealty and those of his “sons,” the other reserving rights of fealty to himself, his

| wife, and his “sons.” These stipulations may suggest that he contemplated the possibility of bequeathing land to one or more of his cadets, although he took no such step.” The eldest son died; the second son

was associated in the royalty in his stead; the third son had already been placed in the church, where the father was content to leave him, endowing him with ample support from several abbacies.™1 Robert,

Peter, and the younger Philip were left without provision that is known. The other sons had already died.7? Louis VII succeeded to the throne with the undivided patrimony and acquisitions. Louis VII’s was the most tranquil Capetian accession since that of

Robert II in 996. Louis was in the south, just married to Eleanor of Aquitaine, when his father died. He hurried northward “to forestall the pillaging, scandals, and commotions which customarily break out when kings die.’’7* Once he was in Paris, there was no Opposition, if

| indeed there had been any previously. As the chronicler of Morigny , viewed the events, Louis “assumed the rule of the kingdom which was

60 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries due him by hereditary right.’’"* Suger, in retrospect, found the succession so untroubled that he began his history of the reign with a lengthy discourse, comparing the good fortune of France in having this “‘nobil-

issima proles” as successor to the “nobilissimo patri’” with the misfortune of the empire and of England, which were torn “almost to the point of ruin” by disputed successions. France was spared these woes, and “indeed the French congratulated themselves and rejoiced at the succession of so excellent a son.” The texts can be read as extolling the establishment of indivisible hereditary succession by primogeniture. That interpretation would be misleading. If Louis VII had no rivals from outside his family, which is noteworthy, his preeminence over his brothers is hardly surprising. Louis at seventeen was entering full youth and had just been married to the greatest heiress in all France. The sibling nearest him in age, Henry, was already a cleric. The next brother, Robert, was thirteen or younger; unendowed, Robert had no resources, and unmarried, he had no natural allies. Any opposition to Louis VII would have depended on factors of power and on the capability to lead a revolt. Since these elements were lacking, the succession was automatically smooth.

A strong potential for trouble remained, however. Louis VII attempted to provide for his brothers through marriage and ecclesiasttcal appointment. Henry, who while underage had simultaneously held three abbacies during their father’s lifetime, received two more abbacies and various other church offices in the early years of his brother’s reign; in 1146 or 1147, he resigned these to become a Cistercian monk,

but in 1149 he was elected bishop of Beauvais; in 1152, he became archbishop of Reims.’® Robert was married, in 1144 or 1145, to the

widowed countess of Perche, thus obtaining the comital title and control of that county during the minority of her young sons.” Philip

was placed in the church. When no older than six at the most, he already held one royal abbacy, and upon the monastic profession of his

brother Henry, he received the latter’s abbacies, to which he added other ecclesiastical offices at Paris, Orléans, and Tours.*® At an unde-

termined date, Peter was married to the heiress to the lordship of Courtenay.” It is notable that none of the cadets had received any share in the paternal inheritance. There is no exact parallel to this plan in the succession to Philip I, for the latter’s son, Philip, had been given Mantes, but the basic pattern is the one found in Capetian successions since that to Henry I—that is, the eldest son was markedly pre-

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 61 ferred over the cadets, even to the disinheritance of the latter. Great noble cadets, by contrast, received significantly larger provisions than these—even some third sons receiving more than had Louis VI’s eldest lay cadet.®°

When circumstances permitted, the inherent danger surfaced. In 1147, Louis VII departed for the Second Crusade, accompanied by many nobles, including his brother Robert.3! Late in 1148 or early in 1149, Robert left the main army in the East and returned to France, where he became the center of a conspiracy to put him on the throne in Louis’s place. ‘The sources are cryptic on the subject. Brother William’s Life of Suger says that when Robert returned from Jerusalem “certain populares’ began to come to him and to urge him to seek the imperium. Certain clerics, also, flattered him “‘and incited him through confidence in his royal blood to do certain illegal things.’’®? ‘This account is at least a partial gloss of Robert's motives. A letter written to Suger by the count of Flanders in 1149 speaks of a disagreement

between him and Robert, claims that the latter had left Louis VII “neque... fraterno et bono animo,” and promises to defend the king’s land and honor against Robert.®? The scope of the revolt appears to have been minor. ‘The plan to depose Louis VII was abandoned with-

, out battle upon the king’s return to France.*4 If Robert's sedition is unremarkable as an attempted coup, it is noteworthy as the first of a series of familial difficulties for Louis VII.

For precisely while the king’s own prestige was low following the disastrous crusade, his brothers—except for Peter—appear restless and assertive.® In May 1150, the pope had to intervene to direct settlement of a dispute between Philip and the canons of Orléans over possession of the church of Sainte-Lée, which both parties claimed. In September

of that year, Philip and the old queen mother defied the wishes of both the king and the pope in a dispute between the monks and canons of Compiégne. It had been ordered that Benedictine monks should replace the canons at Saint-Corneille of Compiegne because of the canons’ lax morals; but hardly had the new abbot been consecrated and the king’s party left the town when Philip, who was treasurer of Saint-Corneille, led a band of canons and laymen into the

church to steal the relics; on their second entry, the townsmen rose to defend the monks, and a riot nearly ensued. The king was forced to intervene.®® At the same time, Henry was quarreling with lay lords in the diocese of Beauvais because he refused to make uncanonical but

62 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries customary payments which they were demanding. Louis VII supported

the barons; Robert, however, supported Henry and was said either himself to have done, or to have persuaded Henry to commit, some outrage which further inflamed the dispute.*” At one point, Louis was prepared with an army to attack Beauvais, but his mother, Suger, and others interceded to restore peace. Eventually, the pope decided the case in Henry's favor.®®

It is doubtful whether any common impulse, except perhaps awareness of the king’s relative weakness, had prompted these incidents. Sincere religiosity may explain Henry’s attitude.®® In Robert’s case,

resentment is recorded from the months in the East. In addition, Robert had concerns of economics and status for, since his elder stepson, the heir to Perche, was nearing the age at which he would claim his inheritance, Robert’s loss of that county was not far distant.°°

By August 1152, Louis VII had given Robert the lordship of Dreux.®! Several factors were in the background to this grant. In 1151, Geoffrey Plantagenet had invaded Robert’s lands, apparently Perche, and had seized one of his castles; Louis VII and Robert retaliated by burning Sées, which belonged to one of Geoffrey’s supporters.°? Probably in the following year, Robert’s wife died, and although he soon married the lady of Braine, the strategically valuable Perche was out of his grasp.*? At the same time, Louis VII’s position was weakened by

marital reverses: in March 1152, he divorced Eleanor; within two months, she was married to the future Henry II, who was already duke

of Normandy and count of Anjou.** Of Louis VII’s moves against Henry II in August 1152, Robert of ‘Torigny, who should have been well informed, wrote soon afterward: “Meanwhile, the king of the French, having gained an opportunity by the duke’s absence, and incited most of all by his brother, Count Robert, who had married the widow of Count Rotrodus of Mortagne |Perche] and to whom the same

king had given the castle of Dreux,” attacked and burned Tilliéres

and a suburb of Verneuil, towns belonging to Henry and situated on | the borders of Dreux.®? ‘The tone of Robert of ‘Torigny’s account, and the fact that in notes of events of 1151 and early 1152 he had still called Robert count of Perche, suggest that the grant of Dreux dates from the

latter year. hat no earlier text associates Robert with Dreux implies the same conclusion.®® Yet 1152 is a sure terminus for the grant, because the castle and castellany of Dreux were assigned as dower to

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 63 Robert’s second wife, Agnes of Braine, whom he had married before the end of that year.®”

The cession of Dreux to Robert may be explained by a combination of motives. ‘That this was not simply a way to buy off his contest of the

throne is indicated by the fact that his challenge had already failed, although his discontent probably remained. The grant seems to reflect a reconciliation between the brothers, the background for which ap-

pears in a letter written by St. Bernard to Louis VII. The abbot, recently ill, had been visited by Robert. What the latter said then “left us with joy and better hope of him,” and Bernard urged: “Love him, since, if he patterns his deeds after his words, you will be pleased with him; and if you judge him worthy, he should know how to please you, because by our counsels and those of good men he had promised to be quiet in the future.”®® Converging circumstances—Louis VII’s vul-

nerability, Robert’s ambition, the imminent loss of Perche, the ag: gression of the common Plantagenet enemy—brought Louis and Robert closer together, the grant of Dreux serving to seal an entente between them and to strengthen the frontier against Henry II. One notes, finally, that Dreux conforms to the traits of a marcher apanage: _ not part of the old Capetian patrimony, it was alienable; at some distance from the king’s seat, it would be valuable for defense if its holder

: were loyal, but not a dire threat if he were not.*® There is no evidence of discord within the royal family for the | remainder of the reign. The sister, Constance, whose first husband had died, was married in 1154 to the count of Toulouse. In 1159, when Henry II besieged ‘Toulouse, Louis VII marched southward to aid in its defense. While Louis was away, his brothers, Robert of Dreux and Henry of Reims, led the defense of the kingdom against Henry II’s other forces. But the accord had been difficult and may not have been totally firm. A century later, the tale circulated that Robert had been the eldest of the brothers but that he had been excluded from the

throne and given only Dreux because he was considered stupid; although Robert himself may not have been responsible for the repetition of a tale so unflattering to him, its source almost certainly lay in his attempt to seize the throne.'®! Above all, Louis VII had no son, and

, this was cause for grave concern. When, after the birth of two more daughters, his second wife died, he remarried quickly. A monk at Saint-Germain-des-Prés, writing soon afterward, recorded his motives:

64 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries “He feared lest the kingdom of France should come not to be governed by an heir who had come forth from his seed. ‘Therefore, providing both for his own salvation and for the safeguard of the res publica in the future, he married Adela, daughter of Theobald, count palatine of Blois.”’?°? A later source, of uncertain authority but reflecting a men-

tality little different from one of Louis VII's time, said that the king feared the divisio regni, that is, civil war, because of his lack of a son.1 He had good cause, to judge from Suger’s comparative description ot

royal successions. The reestablishment of familial order had been forced on Louis VII for the stability of the kingdom. ‘The maintenance of the Capetians as a firm royal Geschlecht, and the equilibrium of the monarchy, were in very large measure dependent on the birth and reception of the king’s heir.

Philip Augustus as Heir to the Throne, 1165-1180 Reactions to the birth of Louis VII’s son, the future Philip Augustus, and attitudes toward the prince during his childhood and early youth, offer a number of insights into the periods both preceding and following the fifteen years to be treated here. That these years reflect the background which informed all later documents is evident. ‘That they have their own interest will be the thrust of the present examination. In addition, focus on Philip’s position as heir permits a certain testing of the data and concepts which have been presented thus far. The transmission of a hereditary, and even patrimonial, monarchy within the structures of a royal Geschlecht has been postulated. A serious challenge to this thesis is posed by older judgments on the ques-

tion whether the Capetian throne was really hereditary. This crucial point has so often been denied that particular attention must be given to it again. Only with difficulty can one speak of a royal race if the royalty is linked to the family in no more than a casual, de facto manner, as has often been done in the present case. For sons merely to succeed their fathers on a throne may not necessarily prove that that monarchy is governed by hereditary succession; other factors might explain the occurrence. The case is different, however, when a royal son is born to be king. Hereditary monarchies are distinctive in the anxiety which they display when the birth of the heir is delayed. When, after such a delay, the infant is greeted as the next king, there is the strongest reason to conclude that succession to

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 65 that throne is indeed hereditary. This model will be applied to the case of Philip Augustus.

Louis VII had taken three wives and had reached advanced age before a son was finally born to him, after nearly thirty years of mar-

riage. There is abundant evidence of the king’s extreme distress at the lack of an heir. The continuator of his biography, who wrote dur-

ing the reign itself, attributed Louis’s second and third marriages explicitly to this desire.1* It was later recounted that Louis had attended a general meeting of the Cistercian Order and had prostrated himself, wept, prayed for a son, and refused to rise until the assembled abbots had assured him that his prayers would be answered.’ Beginning in Philip’s childhood even, and increasingly thereafter, Capetian historians were fond of stressing the miraculous aspect of his birth.*°

Philip was born at Paris on 21 August 1165. Louis VII was at Etampes at the time. The father’s assumptions about the succession, as well as his joy at the birth, are reflected in his charter celebrating the event. He proclaimed: For a long time, it was the special and irremediable longing of the whole kingdom that God, in His kindness and mercy, would bestow a child from us who after us would reign as king and would govern the kingdom. And that ardent desire, that

God would give us progeny of the better sex, inflamed also us, who had been terrified by a multitude of daughters. For that reason, since the desired heir has appeared to us, we, full of gladness and joy, have given thanks to the Highest and, on account of the inestimable joy which we felt through all our heart and body at hearing the news, we have taken care to reward the messenger . .. who hastened to announce to us that the child born of us was a boy.107

The semi-official biography of Philip by Rigord gives a similar account. Rigord says that Philip should be called “God-given” because, while Louis VII had had many daughters, he had been unable to have

“a male successor to the kingdom.” Joining in prayer with the queen and “the entire clergy and all the people of the whole kingdom,” he had begged for a ‘“‘son as heir and vigorous governor of the kingdom of the French.” ‘The prayers being heard, Louis “‘was given a son named

Philip,” whom he reared in the faith, had crowned at Reims, and saw established on the throne of the kingdom.1%

Strong objections can be raised to these documents. ‘They both reflect royalist points of view, and that of Rigord was written too long

after the events to be accepted without corroboration. Louis VII's charter requires little comment: the king had prayed for an heir and

66 The Eleventh and ‘Twelfth Centuries regarded his son as his natural successor. Rigord’s chronicle is very royalist in sentiment; he wrote it for the abbey of Saint-Denis and in 1200 presented a copy of it to Philip’s son, the future Louis VIII. Although the account of Philip’s birth may have been among the first passages that Rigord wrote, its composition can probably be placed no earlier than 1185, when Philip was firmly established on the throne.?” However reliable Rigord may in fact prove to be, other testimony 1s required before his word can be accepted on this point. ‘The procedure followed here will be to present statements made by Frenchmen at the

time of Philip’s birth and during his childhood in order to gather as accurate a view of opinion as is possible. ‘The extant materials do not permit a systematic poll of either sociological or political character, but they do provide very much more of such information than is available for any earlier generation. One of the earliest documents which speak of Philip’s birth is a letter written by Arnulf, bishop of Lisieux, to congratulate Louis VII on the event and at the same time to request royal intervention in behalf of the messenger. Arnulf wrote: The bearer of the letters gladdened my spirit with a long-desired joy, a joy for which we, like the other fideles of the kingdom of the French, have sighed with long and ardent desiring, which now with an abundance of joy we have received fulfilled. God has visited His people and has revealed the depths of His mercy to the whole kingdom of the French, for He has established a sure heir to you and has

ordained a just lord for all the magnates of the kingdom of the French. For no one will be so arrogant or contumacious as to refuse to do the service owed to him whom he knows to have been begotten out of your flesh for the government of the kingdom.110

That this letter should have come out of Plantagenet Normandy could prompt suspicion as to the sincerity of the writer, and the checkered

career of Arnulf of Lisieux suggests no resolution of that question. Contemporaries’ opinions of him were divided, and some of them very

unfavorable.'!! Another of his letters praises the “excellence of the royal blood” which was evident in the actions of a Capetian kinsman, but this letter was addressed to Louis VII’s brother, Archbishop Henry of Reims.'!? The most that can be affirmed about Arnulf’s motives is

that he thought the Capetian recipients of his letters would believe what he said to them. ‘The last sentence quoted from the letter to Louis VII suggests that the magnates’ loyalty was not dependable—which was

true but need have nothing to do with the question of blood-right—

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 67 but it is clear that Arnulf construed the mere birth of the prince to be the divine appointment of the next king. Probably also in 1165, Louis VII received congratulations from the town council of ‘Toulouse. They wrote: The word which has been created from you by the Lord has been heard in our land by current report of the son whom the merciful God, through His grace, has deigned to give to you and in whose birth to visit us. Because of this, in all our country both the clergy and the people, in the same spirit, offer the praises due to Almighty God and offer prayers to Him that God will preserve him to you and to us for a long time.118

The letter does not actually state that Philip was expected to succeed his father, but that inference is obvious from the christological language of the first sentence, from the fact that “we” had been “‘visited”’

in his birth, and from the prayers that he be preserved “‘to us.” Although the letter was presumably composed by a cleric, the sentiments expressed in it may be attributed to the townsmen. ‘The ties between Louis VII and the Toulousains were sufficiently close to give cred1bility to the sincerity of the statements.1"4

At about the same time, the monks of La Chartreuse wrote to the king: “May God and Our Lord cause your infant son, whom the Lord has given to you and to His land, to grow in wisdom, age, and grace.’’11°

The abbot of the monastery of L’Aumone, near Blois, wrote to him: “May Almighty God preserve and defend your person, and the heir given to you by God, and the state of your realm.”’!4 ‘The implications of these remarks are clear. The next relevant document which can be dated with precision is a charter of 23 December 1167 by which Manasseh, bishop of Orléans,

“for joy at the birth of the most illustrious boy Philip, son of the lord king,” gave a small church to the Order of Prémontré and declared it free of further payments to him."? The size of the donation and the date of the charter—two full years after Philip’s birth—testify to the celebration of the event at Orléans. The text does not say that Philip was the king-to-be, but that would seem to be the most likely motive for honoring the birth of the illustrisstmus puer in such fashion.

| Other texts permit a different approach. wo such documents are | accounts of Philip’s birth, written several years after the event, which reveal what those writers thought when looking back. The first is the “Versus de gaudio filii regis quando fuit natus,”’ which is attributed to

68 The Eleventh and ‘Twelfth Centuries Pierre Riga, who was a student at Paris in 1165 and later a canon at Reims. The poem seems to date from the prince’s early childhood.1"8 Although highly rhetorical in tone, it is one of the most informative sources for the reaction to Philip’s birth. The writer begins: I salute the king, the queen, the region; rejoicing, I describe royal joys, filled with God. I was studying then at Paris [when] The balsamy fragrance with its sweetness poured out into the kingdom.119

It was night; the queen was in labor; the city prayed. God heard and granted their prayers. he queen ceased weeping and applauded. ‘The child was born. ‘The mother cried for joy; the glory and ornament of the World and the city, the royal [or regal] boy, made happy these our times.1!20

The child was examined to determine his sex. ‘Then the news was spread into the city. People arose; happy voices broke the silence of night; the town so shone with the lights of the joyful crowd that it seemed like day in the middle of the night. ‘The church had not been at peace—but “‘peace to the earth and glory in heaven, the child is born. The boy 1s peace. He pacifies them all.” ‘The monks rejoice: they ring

their bells, rejoice together, and sing. The abbots learn the news: “They give; they rejoice; their gladness shines through giving.” Horses, gold, silver, and vestments are presented to the bearer of the news. The gladness exceeds all bounds. Every order, every age, takes part. [he news was carried to the king, who freed the serf who brought the message. Count Henry of Champagne surpassed the others in his gladness and munificence, but everyone celebrated by largesse: “‘it so became the practice to give that not to give will be a crime,” and he who did not give quickly should be regarded as “guilty.”’!?? ‘There is no doubt about the view of succession here: the regius puer, who has such attributes and whose birth is so celebrated, can only be the heir born to the throne. What is perhaps most useful for present purposes, however, is the specific sociological information

which the poet gives about the rejoicing at Paris and the fact that the | count of Champagne, brother of the queen, is named as having been conspicuous 1n his celebration. ‘The tone and assumptions of the poem,

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 69 the fact that Henry was singled out in it, and every motive of familial

loyalty or ambition, permit the inference that this powerful count, too, regarded Philip as successor to the crown—a conclusion only to be

expected, but for which there is now some documentary evidence.’ Moreover, the principle epitomized by Henry is extended, so that he who did not give is “guilty.’”’ The application of this charge must be defined. The writer speaks with certainty only of Paris, but for that city his testimony is unequivocal.'*8

The other text to be examined in this regard is the continuation of Suger’s unfinished Historia glorios: regis Ludovici |VII| written by a monk at Saint-Germain-des-Prés between 1166 and 1173. ‘This writer's description of the birth-night accords with that by Pierre Riga. The nobilissima proles was born: The messenger announcing this joy, coming to Saint-Germain-des-Prés, related this

happy news at the same hour at which the monks were beginning to sing the prophetic canticle: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for He has visited and redeemed His people,” That this was connected with a divine oracle can be shown by many signs. Indeed the so greatly desired news of this child, quickly spreading

on every side, filled all the French with the greatest joy, since they had long yearned for a successor of the male sex who came from the seed of King Louis who, after his glorious father’s death, would occupy the throne of the Royal Majesty. ‘““The Lord granted them their desire; they were not defrauded of their wish.’’124

This writer’s view was colored by a strong royalist bias. Still, he confidently made broad assertions about French opinion, ascribing to the people at large his own belief—confirmed by omens—that Philip had been born to be king. Henry II of England shared this expectation, and acceptance of it was part of his Continental policy. No statement of his to this effect is known, but his view is evident in his actions, most notably when he was arranging his own succession: he had his eldest son, Henry, do homage for his French fiefs not only to Louis VII but also, in February 1169, to Philip.!?® Whether the initiative behind the second ceremony

was that of Louis VII and intended to bind to his heir his greatest vassal and the latter’s principal heir, or of Henry II and conceived as

| a further guarantee of his own successional plan, 1s unessential. In either case, Philip was acknowledged heir to the French throne. Even if this recognition was not expressly stated in the oath of fealty, contemporaries would have understood it as implicit in the act. In this

70 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries sense, the dramatic contrast in physical size of the participants—Henry was fourteen years of age, Philip three-and-one-half—would have underscored the exceptional position of the latter.1*® In addition, because

of the number of persons who either witnessed the homage or heard of it, this event implies acceptance of Philip as heir by numerous members of the nobility who have left no record of their views. A few others in high station did leave such documents. Probably late

in November 1169, the exiled ‘Thomas Becket wrote to William, archbishop of Sens, and described to him a recent meeting between Louis VII and Henry II at Montmartre. The conference had made little progress, and Henry had left the room, meeting “the lord Philip,

the blessed son of the most Christian king,’ who spoke to him; and “God inspired the spirit of His preordained servant (puer) and formed and directed his speech,” so that Philip urged Henry to love the king and kingdom of France and himself |ipsum, thus Philip], because from that would ensue the favor of God and men.”’!?" The text is extremely

, suggestive. If the four-year-old Philip actually said such things, which is possible, his statements must echo comments which he had heard from others. If the speech is Becket’s fabrication, the benedictus and praeelectus child is nonetheless portrayed as speaking miraculously while associating himself with the king and kingdom as proper objects for Henry’s devotion.??6 Such expressions might well have been favorably received by William of Sens, who was Philip’s maternal uncle.

William’s probable attitude is suggested independently by the fact that he dated one of his charters of 1171 by the regnal year of Louis VII and “the sixth year of the age of the lord Philip, his son.’’!”® Philip’s claim was recognized, and pressed, by Pope Alexander III.

In 1171 or 1172, the pope wrote to Louis VII’s brother, Henry of Reims, on the subject of the French succession. He recalled the support which the French kings had always given the Holy See, and especially his own gratitude, and said that he was writing out of concern “about

the status of the same king and of the son whom the Lord has given him out of His love and compassion.” He urged Henry, “for whom before others because of the office of your dignitas and by reason of blood it is especially appropriate to be solicitous of the status of the

king and kingdom,” to use every persuasion to include Louis VII to , have Philip anointed and crowned.!*° Stress should be laid on the blood-right, for if Louis VII’s brother had special ties to the monarchy ratione sanguinis, no other justification could have underlain the con-

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 71 secration of a six- or seven-year-old boy. It is probable that Alexander III’s statement, like Becket’s, was heavily influenced by the royalist French circles in which both men had lived for several years. In such case, the import of these letters would be increased; for while the ideas they expressed, if derivative, would reflect French thinking, repetition

of them by such authoritative writers would have lent further sanction to those views. ‘These documents do not exhaust the evidence. Consideration only of texts known to have been written during Philip’s infancy or childhood has excluded other sources, notably the De instructione principis

by Gerald of Wales. Nonetheless, the findings offer as strong a case for a consensus of the French public as one can well hope to discover from the fragmentary sources which exist. In this regard, it is significant that the texts speak not only of the sentiments of magnates but also of those of other groups—‘“‘every order’ at Paris, “other fideles” from Normandy, “all in our country” from the Toulousain—which have left no other record of their views. There is no rigorous proof of the atmosphere thus hypothesized. In several respects, the homage of the young Henry to Philip is the most striking testimony to this context, but since the bases of Henry IT’s calculations are not fully known, additional types of corroboration may be sought.'?! The first given here is impractically evocative, but it is forceful because of the premises which must be inferred from it.

, In or by 1173, a monk at Saint-Germain-des-Prés completed the Historia gloriost regis Ludovici in the version in. which it has been pre-

served. ‘he form of this work is probably unique in Capetian historiography. The writer began by continuing the biography of Louis VII which Suger had left unfinished, but then he made the work into what its editor has aptly called ‘‘a booklet intended to celebrate the birth of Philip Augustus.’’'%? Suger had begun with the account, already examined, of how Louis VII, the nobilissima proles, had succeeded his father, sparing the French the evils which had befallen other peoples, whose kings had died without sons to succeed them; the continuator ended his text with a description of the rejoicing at the birth of Philip, the noblissima proles and the ‘‘swccessio of the male sex from King Louis’s seed.’ There is more, for in his presentation

: the monk altered the sequence of events in order to give the birth more of a miraculous allure. To him it was for the procreation of an heir that Louis VIJ had married Constance of Castile and then Adela

72 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries of Champagne. Constance had died giving birth to another daughter. Then Louis VII's expedition into Burgundy in defense of the abbey of Cluny is shown to have intervened between the date of his third marriage and the birth of his son. The author laid great stress on this campaign, finding in it the key to Philip’s birth: Therefore, because of these and many other works of justice which the very pious King Louis, from respect for the Divine Majesty, did for the aforesaid church and for many others, and also because of the vengeance which many times he executed upon the enemies of the church of Cluny and of many other churches, the Divine Goodness conferred upon him a worthy reward for so many good works.184

‘Then Philip was born, successor to the throne.

Louis VII's first intervention in Burgundy followed, however— it did not precede—Philip’s birth.1%° ‘The monk must have known this

fact, for he was familiar with Burgundian affairs and was writing soon after the events. Deliberate distortion on his part for the purpose

of enhancing the royal birth best explains the peculiar twist of his account Ihe same objective 1s seen in his alteration of the hour of the birth. Philip was born in the evening, after dark on an August night, though apparently not very late; yet the monk wrote that the news

reached Saint-Germain-des-Prés, which was not very far from the palace, only at midnight. His reason is evident: it was a “divine miracle’ that the messenger should arrive at the hour when the monks were singing: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for He has visited and redeemed His People.’’!** Born of pious works, sent by God, the child was baptized with three abbots as godfathers, the king’s sister and two Parisian widows as godmothers. The book ends there. Some connotations are suggested by the biblical prototypes, perhaps especially the birth of John the Baptist, to which the canticle refers. Philip is presented as a holy child, born as if to further the divine will. The attitudinal background necessary for the arrangement of Louis VII’s vita into such a form obviously placed tremendous value on the royal blood-right. For lack of valid tests, the extent of this view cannot be measured.

Another check of the textual assertions is the behavior of Louis VII. First, he gave his son a kingly name, that of his own elder brother

and of his grandfather.1?* The king drew attention to Philip in various } ways. At least five royal acts were dated by the first or second years of the child’s life, others by the fifth and seventh years.'?8 ‘This evi-

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 73 dence, however, is not susceptible to sure interpretation; one hes1tates to construe the practice merely as a quirk of a few chancery scribes, yet if the usage had a propagandistic aim, it was not consistently pursued. The first of these acts were directed to friendly ecclesiastics. The announcement of the important pariage with Cluny at Saint-Gengoux, a result of Louis VII’s first expedition to Burgundy, was dated by the first year of Philip’s birth; but the homage from the count of Lyons and of Forez for castles which formerly he had held “from no lord,” and the increase of his fief, did not mention heirs to either party and included no reference to Philip even in the formulas of the date.18° One act from 1170 records Philip’s consent, but this is the only such notation found in so early a text.14° Great attention was

paid to the child, but the royal acts which mention him are far outnumbered by those which do not.*#?

As Philip grew older, his importance was more in evidence. At age three, he was led through the ceremony in which the young Henry did homage to him. At age four, he was with his father at Montmartre on the occasion of Louis’s meeting with Henry II. During Louis VII's

second Burgundian campaign, in 1171-1172, Philip figured in a political context in certain of his father’s acts. Thus, a royal act issued at the close of that campaign stated that the count of Macon and the lord of Beaujeu “have sworn fealty to us and our son Philip.” ‘T’wo

other acts from the same expedition referred to Philip indirectly:

| Louis confirmed the possessions of the abbey of Cusset and took the house into the royal protection in such fashion that “neither we nor our heirs” could remove it “from our hand or give it to any feudatory,”’

and a pariage with the bishop of Macon specified that “we and our heirs’’ must retain the property thus shared, “nor in any manner will it be alienated from the crown of the realm.’’!4? These terms attached the new rights simultaneously to the king’s heirs, meaning Philip, and to

the crown. The terms were exceptional; such arrangements would

ordinarily have been made in the name of the king and his successors.'#° ‘The usage was not followed consistently in subsequent acts.

What impression was made by the occasional variation can only be guessed, but it is significant that Philip was brought into sufficient prominence for an oath of fealty from new and adult vassals to have been sworn jointly to his father and himself when he was only six years old.

Royal acts from the following years continued the pattern of these.

74 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries An act of 1173 gave to Count Theobald of Blois everything that the king held at Senneli on condition that Theobald erect no fortress there

without Louis’s consent “and after our death without the consent and will of our son Philip.”!*4 In 1174 or 1175, Louis took the abbey of Gué-de-l’Orme into the royal protection, “establishing and granting that we, and Philip our son, and our heirs will be fathers and lords to the aforesaid house’; he did the same for the monastery of Barbeaux for himself and “our dearest son Philip and our other successors, kings of France.” An act of 1175 exempted two foreigners from trade customs and placed them under immediate royal jurisdiction, granting that “neither they nor their heirs shall respond or be judged except before us, or our dearest son Philip who, God granting, will be raised as king, or before our other successors, kings of the French.’’'*° Less clear examples could be added; but other charters speak only of the king’s successors, relatively few note Philip’s consent, and most contain no mention relative to the succession.!*6 Clearly, therefore, there was

no sustained effort to promote or dramatize his position. Strong implicit recognition of Philip came from abroad. When the boy was perhaps seven, Emperor Frederick Barbarossa proposed to Louis VII a marriage between one of his daughters and Louis’s son. Nothing came of the proposal, which is known, in fact, only from a papal letter opposing the match.1*7 Background for this overture is given by Frederick’s proposal, two years earlier, of a match between

his son and Louis’s daughter.'48 It is evident that the emperor regarded both his son and Louis’s as natural successors to their fathers’ thrones, but the peculiar circumstances of the German succession are

a reminder that his opinion should be treated with some caution." The implications of the foregoing examination should now be tested by comparison with known royal policy. Fortunately, the concurrence between the two is virtually complete, for the conclusions suggested by the former are corroborated by the record concerning Philip’s association on the throne, which did not occur until 1179. Various explanations for the delay have been advanced, two of which

seem immediately improbable. ‘The prince’s youth need not have delayed the association: Louis VII himself had been consecrated at the age of eleven, his grandfather at the age of seven, and, contempo-

raneously, Frederick Barbarossa’s heir in Germany at the age of four.45° Nor could the rebellion of the sons of Henry II have influenced Louis critically, since it did not occur until Philip was well into child-

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 75 hood and certainly old enough to have been designated king or even crowned, had his father wished it. Finally, actual pressure in favor of the anticipatory association was received, and disregarded, as is shown

by Alexander III’s letter from 1171. Luchaire concluded that the hereditary principle had become so well established that Louis VII did not deem it necessary to have his only son crowned in advance’; only when paralysis had made the old king incapable of handling affairs himself did he recognize that his heir’s association was indispensable to the functioning of the government.'®! The reaction to Philip’s birth, as it emerges from the texts examined here, and Louis’s earlier treatment of his heir, are in full support of this judgment. The procedures followed in Philip’s association point to the same conclusion. As Rigord recounts the proceeding, Louis VII, old and hampered by paralysis, summoned an assembly of magnates from throughout the kingdom to meet at Paris. Then he “communicated to them the counsel that, with their counsel [or consent] and by their wish, he wanted to raise his dearest son Philip ‘God-given’ to be king

of the French .... When the prelates and princes heard the king’s will, they all cried out unanimously: ‘Let it be done, let it be done!’ And thus the council was dissolved.’’!52 In this account, ‘election’ again is no more than consent. Louis VII announced to the magnates what he wanted to do; they approved unquestioningly, and it was done. Schramm has accurately characterized this election as virtually an act of the king’s council.t*? As Rigord portrays it, Louis VII dominated the assembly completely. This aspect need not be seen as a novelty. ‘he father-king’s control in this instance may have been greater than in earlier cases, but the sources do not require that interpretation. The later case may simply be better known.14 The comments of other contemporaries offer supplementary insights. Alexander III’s letter to Henry of Reims about the association contains a remark on how Louis VII should proceed which is the more

interesting because the pope himself was a reputable jurist. He advised: “Urge the king .. . having had the wise counsel of yourself and

of other great personages of the kingdom, with the aid of celestial grace, to have him [Philip] crowned and anointed king and by the oath

of fealty to have the entire kingdom bound to him.’ Alexander seems to have had the same idea of election as that which prevailed at the Paris assembly of 1179; he also used the term consilium—or rather, santore consilium—to mean consent, which those asked apparently

76 The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries could not refuse. ‘The chronicle of Ralph of Diceto reflects a similar

attitude toward election: Ralph said merely that the consent of the magnates “had to be asked, desiderandus erat.’’1°®

‘Two deductions follow from this evidence: first, that the delay in Philip’s association was a deliberate act of royal policy; second that his “election” by the magnates was no more than their formal acceptance

or ratification of the step which the king had chosen to take. ‘The accession offers only a pro forma recognition of a vestigial election right, although the election still appears as a constitutive act, perhaps a necessary and certainly a politic one. In view of Louis VII's eagerness for the birth of an heir, however, it is impossible to believe that ceremonies which had been long delayed, and then performed only when the king’s declining health threatened a future emergency, could have

been the means by which a potentially open succession was kept in the Capetian family. The royal policy of postponement is compre-

hensible only if Louis VII and his advisers were convinced that Philip’s rights to the throne were indefeasible.

If more precise evidence is sought, the only point which appears

certain is that Louis VII did not think it necessary to assure the succession through the association of his son at an earlier time. His reasons are unknown. He may perhaps have feared that baronial factions might form around the person of an anointed minor heir; he may also have relied on the house of Blois to guarantee the cause of their young nephew if the succession were ever in doubt.!®? The burden of the data suggests that the anticipatory association of 1179 is best

understood in the context of the deterioration of the old king’s health. ‘The fact that Philip was treated as a full partner in the royalty, and that as king he dated his reign from the day of his consecration— not from his father’s death, as Louis VII had usually done—may imply that his association in the kingship was conceived more as fulfillment of the current needs of the monarchy than as an expedient to ensure the succession.'®®

In several important respects, the case of Philip Augustus stands in contrast to what is known of the past. From infancy Philip had been widely accepted as heir to the throne, yet his association was postponed

until almost the last moment. Then Louis VII “communicated his wishes, communicavit quod volebat,” to the magnates and received the answer: “Fiat, fiat!’ ‘That consent seems to have been regarded as

little more than procedural, at least by those writers who have left

The Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries 77 their opinions; the views of the magnates are not known. All the visible evidence either affirms or implies that Philip was acclaimed, anointed

and crowned by right of birth. In the end, however, his rights were buttressed by baronial approval prior to his consecration.

It may not necessarily follow that the crown had become incontestably hereditary. Although that seems to have been the case, the extant evidence may be too sparse to support so strong an assertion. The texts are most informative, perhaps, if removed from a broad, schematic context and viewed simply as reflections of attitudes at that particular time. For the birth of an heir to have been so acclaimed in 1165, and for his rights to have been accepted as widely and as spontaneously as they were, is the clearest evidence of Capetian familial ordering along dynastic lines. The occurrence presupposes the solid formation of a royal Geschlecht. As for the succession to the throne,

the least that emerges is that the hereditary principle had been so ereatly strengthened that many men expressed acceptance of it, and the only opposition of which there are traces had no political weight.1°®

3 / Royal Succession as Reflected in the King’s Business: ‘The Chancery Records, 1180-1206

Serious questions can be raised about some of the evidence cited in the preceding discussion. Much of the testimony about Philip Augustus as heir is from biased sources, some of which invite suspicion of a propagandist intent. In this section, therefore, a different kind of ev1-

dence will be examined: the indirect testimony of the clerks of the royal chancery who drew up the documents which recorded so many of Philip’s activities as suzerain and as defender of the kingdom. Because of the existence of registers from the chancery of Philip Augustus, a much more detailed investigation of the political society of his time is possible than for that of any earlier French king. A broad range of documents will be studied, and these will be related, as nearly

as possible, to the ordinary functioning of the royal government in such matters. ‘UMhe practical, businesslike nature of the actions is to be noted. We shall not be dealing with ambitious rhetoric or pious hopes.

‘The documents from the royal chancery have seldom been examined systematically for the indications they give of the political concepts which informed the governmental circles.1 Since, moreover, the preambles to royal acts say almost nothing about succession to the

throne, these documents have been overlooked in investigations of that problem. It will be seen, however, that the chancery formulations provide unmistakable, if indirect, evidence of the views of succession which obtained among those who recorded the king’s business.

The Chancery Formulations and the Principles behind Them ‘The chancery usage from the early years of the reign is very largely

consistent, or perhaps completely so, since special circumstances figured in each of the deviations from the norm. Of forty-one acts predating Philip’s departure for the Third Crusade in which reference | is made to future kings of France, all but three employ the term successores nostrt.2 One of the acts may be a forgery; five are verbatim 78

The King’s Business 79 reproductions of acts of Louis VII; and a seventh paraphrases an act of Louis VI—but there remain thirty-two instances of the use of “‘successors’’ in new acts from those years of Philip’s reign.*

The use of successores occurs in a wide variety of charters. In a few

cases, the harengae repeat older formulations of the ideal that the king should do worthy deeds and leave the example of them to his successors.* The other cases can first be divided into two categories: those acts which either mention the crown explicitly or indicate that the successors intended are kings, and those which speak simply of successors. Of the first group, ten acts concern localities where Philip had land or rights by pariage or by extension of the royal safeguard; except for one case of a castle and castellany which Philip shared by pariage with the lay castellan, all of these dealt with churches or monasteries or with villages shared by them and the king.® Three acts limited royal exactions during episcopal vacancies at Sens and Paris;

others dealt with the gites due at various places. One recorded the

| homage by a lay lord for a castle, another the cession of a castle to the king by the bishop of Soissons.7 Another regulated that Philip and

the kings his successors would hold the county of Amiens without

| performing the homage due for it to the bishop of Amiens; in exchange, Philip released the bishop of the gites normally owed him, | which Philip or the kings his successors would recover if the land were transferred to someone who could do homage for it. In his confirma-

| tion of the commune of Amiens, Philip promised that he and his successors would retain possession of the town and that it would always be attached to the crown.’ Another charter confirmed the holdings of the monastery of Fleury. In another, Philip, for himself and his successors, kings of the French, guaranteed the compliance of Peter II of Courtenay, count of Nevers, to a pact he had made. Finally, Philip bound himself and his successors, kings of the French, to observe the fiscal and judicial privileges of the men of several districts around Orléans.°®

The acts which refer simply to Philip’s ‘“‘successors’’ are not clearly different in kind from those which specify that the successors intended

will be kings. ‘he principal difference between them is that the matters recorded in the documents which are explicit on the succession are rather more solemn or weighty than most of those in the documents

which are not. ‘Thus, newly acquired castles, or the lands or rights gained by pariages, were tied expressly to the crown. So was the im-

80 ‘The King’s Business portant acquisition of Amiens, although the same stipulation was not

made in the confirmation to the old royal city of Laon or in the institution of communes in towns in the Vexin.!® The variance in formulas does not seem to denote a legal differentiation with respect either to persons or to rights. Indeed, the royal office was the basis for many of the measures in both groups of charters. Only the most important matters—as when rights were attached to the crown or when the king acting as king guaranteed a pact—received the explicit formulation that the successors were to be kings, which seems to have been implicit in the others. ‘The three exceptions to this usage require consideration. ‘The first of these is the act which records that, in exchange for the county of Nevers and the hand of its countess, Peter II of Courtenay had ceded Montargis “‘to us and our heirs, in perpetuity, to the increment of the crown.” The second case is a pariage by which Philip was associated in

the rights of a monastery at the village of Dixmont, promising that neither he “neque heredes sive successores nostri’ could alienate those rights. The third example is from the charter granting a commune at

Tournai, one article of which defined the military service due to Philip and the kings his successors but also stated that the men of ‘Tournai would be free “‘from all other customs a nobis et ab heredibus

nostris regibus Francie.” In probing the reason—if indeed there is one—for the variant usages in these acts, one notes first that all the rights or properties concerned were recent acquisitions of Philip’s.'? Since the same was true of other cases already cited, however, that alone cannot explain the difference. Only in the transaction with Peter II had Philip both acted as suzerain and acquired land outright. ‘The terms of the pariage of Dixmont contrast with all the other such partnerships noted, every one of which speaks of the king’s successors;

but this, also, is the only one of Philip’s pariages from that decade which does not attach to the crown the properties so acquired.1? The expression heredes sive successores is ambiguous; its use may reflect an effort by the scribe to compensate for lack of specificity with respect to the crown by making the terms comprehensive. ‘The case of Tourani differs yet again: here both “heirs” and “successors” figure as future kings, although they appear differently; for it is Philip and the kings his successors who are due the servitium exercitus—a regalian survival

—while the exemption from other customs is from Philip and the kings his heirs.

The King’s Business 81 When these examples are compared with the ones—ten times more numerous—in which the expression stuccessores nostri alone is found, the exceptions seem to indicate that the succession usage in certain of the charters may have varied according to the capacity in which the king was acting or according to the nature of the particular actions or

rights involved. The evidence seen thus far is inconclusive on that point; nor has it been established that the chancery usage necessarily

followed a consistent logic in differentiating the three exceptional cases from all the others. Against this background, and with due reservation for the limits of the evidence, it is seen that successores nostri was the expression normally employed by Philip’s chancery during those years. ‘That soon changed.

The terminal date selected for this part of the investigation was, it is recalled, not the birth of the future Louis VIII, but the king’s departure for the crusade. Louis was born on 5 September 1187, yet the first use of heredes in the charters dates from 1184, another is from either the time of the queen’s pregnancy or the first two months of Louis’s life, and only one is known to date from after his birth. By contrast, fourteen of the instances of swccessores are from after his birth, and these include almost every kind of transaction found in all of the texts with such usage. It is thus apparent that the mere birth of an heir to the king did not impress the royal circles as requiring a change in the chancery formulas. Philip’s departure for the crusade, however, did create such a stimu-

lus, for the king might die on the expedition, and his heir was not yet three years old. No explicit statement on the succession was 1ssued, but Philip’s testament of June 1190 makes it clear that he judged Louis’s rights to be incontestable. The heir is mentioned in four of the provisions of the document, two of which have direct bearing on the succession. First, Philip forbade the collection of extraordinary taxes while he was on the crusade; and if he died, none were to be paid “until our son, whom God deem worthy to preserve well and unharmed to His service, shall come to the age at which by the

grace of the Holy Spirit he can govern the kingdom.” The second provision 1s similar. If Philip should die, one half of his treasure was to be distributed among churches, the other kept “for the benefit of our son until he shall come to the age at which, with the inspiration of God and his own sense, he will be able to govern the kingdom.”

The king’s tone is confident throughout. There is no evidence that

82 The King’s Business Philip sought the consent of the magnates for his testament; Rigord says only that he announced it to his amici and familiares.* Soon afterward, he left Paris to rendezvous with Richard and proceed to the East.

Almost immediately, the wording of the royal acts was altered. Between 4 and 6 July, Philip sent from Vézelay a ruling on the status of the see of Reims during archiepiscopal vacancies; that document referred to successores nostri.1> A few days later, he sent from Perrecy a notice that the rights of the abbey of Corbie were not to be prejudiced by actions taken by the commune of that town; he promised to

judge the case, if asked to do so, after his return from the crusade. Then he added: “If, moreover, we should die on this holy pilgrimage, we admonish our heir and our bailiffs that they should cause judgment

to be made between the abbey and the same commune, and to be strictly observed, concerning the things about which contention has arisen between them.’’'® At Genoa, in August 1190, in consideration

for services rendered to the French crusaders, Philip granted to the Genoese financial and judicial privileges in the lands to be conquered abroad. This grant, also, envisioned the adherence of “our heirs.’’1” ‘Then, 1n an act from Messina, from late 1190 or early 1191, the king revoked all concessions detrimental to the abbey of Corbie which he had made to the commune and declared the status of the latter to be as it had been at the death of Louis VII. Again he promised to review the matter when he returned from the East, and again he added: If, indeed, we should die on this pilgrimage to Jerusalem, we admonish our dearest

son Louis, and by the loyalty which a son owes to his father we require him, to cause that which we have said concerning this church to be observed inviolably and forever. We wish that same thing to be strictly observed by whoever our successor may be, who may have the government of the kingdom after us and afte1 our son, if our God and Lord shall have His will of us and of our son.18

While at Messina, Philip concluded a treaty with Richard I, releas-

ing the latter from his engagement to Philip’s sister, Alice.’ Such treaties will usually not be considered here, because their authorship 1s uncertain, but since this one was issued in Philip’s name as a charter announcing the agreement, it seems proper to attribute it to his chancery. The word “heirs” appears in this document, but its implications

are not explained. Philip ceded to Richard “‘and all his male heirs”’ Gisors, other castles, and the Norman Vexin, which would return “to us or our male heirs” if Richard should die without sons. If Philip died

The King’s Business 83 without heirs, the lands would go to “the lord of Normandy.” If Richard died leaving two or more male heirs, the younger of them would receive one of his major continental fiefs to be held “from us.” ‘The term “heirs” appears for Richard once later in the treaty, in the article prescribing his recourse if Philip failed to observe these conditions. Otherwise, all the provisions applied to “him” or to “us.” A hasty interpretation of this document might suggest that hered1tary succession was not intended to apply to those articles in which it was not specifically mentioned. A closer reading, however, shows that the term “heirs” was included only when necessary for the legal clarity of the agreement—that is, with respect to the conditional cession of the Norman lands. In other articles in the pact, land was transferred “‘to

him” or “to us” without such conditions. Similarly, in the list of securities for Philip’s observance of the pact, it is stated for each baron that he, or his heir, or that one of his heirs who succeeded him, would vouchsafe Philip’s obligation. The terms were explicit because it was essential that the possible deaths of these persons should not

leave the treaty without guarantors. The tenor of the document 1s mainly feudal. “For all the fiefs which his [Richard’s] predecessors held of our predecessors,’ Richard becomes Philip’s liege man, “‘just as his | Richard’s| predecessors were to our predecessors’’—which, given the

unbroken continuity of the families since the tenth century, must include hereditary right. Neither heirs nor successors are mentioned in that context which suggests again that the terms were used only when specifically required. Inasmuch as the hereditary principle governed the transmission of most fiefs, including these,”° it seems probable that “‘our heirs” were understood with “us” in Richard’s obligations—and thus that they would succeed as king and suzerain.?? One other act issued on the crusade mentions future kings. At Acre,

Philip granted to the ‘Templars exemption from chancery fees on letters which that order might receive under his seal or those of the kings his successors.?”

‘The data may be summarized. From the beginning of the reign until the king’s departure, future kings of France were styled ‘“‘our successors” in all but three of the forty-one acts containing such men-

, tion. Then Philip’s testament of June 1190 presupposed Louis’s accession in the event of Philip’s death. Six acts issued by Philip during the course of his participation in the crusade mention future kings: two speak of “our successors,” two of “our heirs,’ one of “‘our heir,”’

84 The King’s Business and one of Louis’s presumptive accession. The stress on Louis and the

singular “heir,” coinciding with Philip’s absence from the kingdom during his son’s infancy, suggest that he felt some concern about the succession.?? The higher incidence of the terms “heir” and “heirs”’ is noted, but usage in these documents is still mixed. ‘The regulation of the see of Reims spoke of “successors” in a regnal capacity. ‘The “heirs”’

who would maintain Philip’s privileges to the Genoese were not described as kings, though Philip may have been acting as suzerain when he issued the grant. It was his ‘heir’ who was to settle the dispute between the abbey and commune of Corbie, although the first charter to the commune had mentioned his “‘successors.’’ Although judgment of

the variation in formulas must, for the moment, be deferred, it 1s striking that the royal acts from a mere two months should include as many examples of the use of “heir” or “heirs” in this manner as do all the extant chancery texts from the preceding ten years. As to the content of the acts, the letters regarding Corbie suggest that there had been a shift in usage even in cases of the same sorts of affairs, so a

change in the kind of business transacted cannot fully explain the appearance of the new usage. Nothing can be concluded, however, from the fragmentary data examined thus far. ‘They must be set into a broader context. Part of that task has already been completed, for the record of earlier acts has been compiled and the new emphasis of these

four noted. From this point it 1s from subsequent acts that must be | sought the material that will permit assessment of the shift.

The evidence is quickly forthcoming. ‘The chancery usage after Philip’s return from the East is remarkably consistent and, moreover, it opens the resolution to the difficulties posed by the cases just cited. Of royal acts issued between late-December 1191 and October 1201, twenty-five make reference to the royal succession. ‘Iwo of these, ac-

cords with Richard and John, will be discounted here because it is unsure whether the expression heredes nostri found in them 1s of Capetian or Plantagenet inspiration; likewise three agreements—with the same usage—concerning the inheritance of Isabella of Hainaut are

not counted because of their more private, familial character.** Of the remaining acts, nine mention “our heir” or “heirs,” four “our suc-

cessors,’’ and seven provide for prayers “for the salvation of our soul | and of those of our father of pious memory, the late King Louis, and of our dearest son Louis, and of our ancestors [or predecessors] and suc-

cessors.’’*5 The last examples may imply that Louis was to become

The King’s Business 85 king, but that inference is not beyond dispute and in any event has nothing to do with the terminology on which this analysis is focused. The other cases are generally clear. Most often the expression heredes nostri is used without further explanation, as is successores nostr1; but two instances of heredes nostri reges Francorum occur, and another act records the remission to the king and his heirs of the homage due from a fief which Philip now held, a privilege most often associated with kings.?6

Closer examination of the documents reveals a pattern to their formulation. All of the extant cases of the term “successors” occur in charters concerning prelates or religious corporations, although a reconstruction of one lost act shows Philip and the kings his successors acting in an expressly royal capacity to guarantee an accord between a count and a town. With one exception, and that rather special, all of the documents which mention the “heir” or “heirs” concern laymen.*" For better understanding, the acts will be classified according to the kinds of business with which they deal. Of those which mention “‘successors,’’ one act records the remission by the bishop of ‘Thérouanne of the homage otherwise owed by Philip for the fief of Hesdin; another, the king’s reservation of the right to nominate chaplains at a church at Etampes; another, a pariage between the king and the abbot and chapter of Saint-Mellon at Pontoise for the purpose of founding a villeneuve; and the last, the exemption of the bishop of Paris from personal service in the host.?8 Of the acts involving laymen, four concern liege homage, another remits the gites customarily due the king from the commune of Noyon, and another is a pact between Philip and the viscount of Limoges for mutual defense against King John.”° Of especial significance are one charter which granted customs to the men of Villeneuve-Saint-Mellon and another which recorded that the lord of Orville had released the king and his heirs from the homage owed for the castle of Beauquesne, held from that lord.° In the former example, Philip speaks of “heirs” when giving privileges to the inhabitants of the town, although he had spoken of “successors”? when he and Saint-Mellon had founded it. ‘The second document is an exact parallel, with a lay baron, of the accord with the bishop of Thérouanne.

, Only one case presenting a contradiction appears: the mention of Philip’s heredes reges Francorum in a contract of pariage with the monastery of Cuissy.*! The usage in this act seems to conflict with that in the pariage with Saint-Mellon, which dates from the same months,

86 The King’s Business but comparison of the two acts reveals differences between them. ‘The

accord with Saint-Mellon was an association between the king and the abbey in undivided rights over the latter’s woods and the new town, with the stipulation that neither Philip nor his successors could alienate “those things in which by this charter they [the canons] have associated us.” The contract with Cuissy began similarly but then added that the king would receive half of the lands henceforth given in alms to the house; it was “the aforesaid land” which Philip and his heirs, kings of the French, could not remove from their possession.” The term heredes here seems to be more closely linked to the conveyance of the king’s share of the land than to his other dealings with the monastery.

It emerges from these data that, with certain exceptions, the succession-usage from Philip’s chancery is divisible into two broad categories: future kings were styled “successors” in most acts which dealt with clerics and “heirs” in most of those which concerned laymen. The proportion of the acts following this pattern is too great to be nullified by the few exceptions. Yet the exceptions cannot be disregarded. No single rule seems to explain the differing usage. Instead, two formulas may be proposed. In the majority of the charters in which

Philip acted for himself and his successors, he was dealing with the holders of episcopal dignitates or with religious corporations, which could not have heirs to the office but only successors. In the transactions with bishops and churches, the king often acted by virtue of the royal offictum or dignitas, which was conferred by consecration and which

existed independently of the continuation of his progeny.** Of the cases with laymen, those of homage did not touch the royalty as a religious dignitas. On the contrary, they lent themselves easily to expression in terms of the contracting parties and their heirs, since feudal rights were then ordinarily transmitted by inheritance. ‘That the “heir” might also be king does not seem to have altered the conception of the feudal act. The operation of this principle is confirmed by comparison of two remissions of homage to Philip which have already been cited. In the

one from the lord of Orville, the remission was to Philip and his heirs; in that from the bishop of Thérouanne, to Philip and his successors. In each case the status of the holding was identical in that both had come to Philip from Isabella of Hainaut. The purpose of the acts was the same, too: to relieve Philip and future kings of homages

The King’s Business 87 which they could not perform. The terminology, however, reflects , the single obvious difference between them: that the lay lord could have heirs to his position and the bishop only successors. ‘That the terms were arbitrary—since as Isabella’s property these lands were only indirectly linked to the royal succession—heightens the contrast between the two texts.** The pattern of usage in these acts is also that of the two earlier cases of remission of homage in which a bishop released Philip and his successors from this obligation while a lay lord did so to Philip and his heirs.*> From these cases emerges the conclusion which was suggested by the rough statistics: that the “personality” of the law could determine whether Philip, in dealing with laymen and their heirs or with ecclesiastics and their successors, acted for himself and his lineage or by virtue of the royal office. In some cases, then, it

was the nature of the persons with whom he treated, not of the act performed, which defined his own functions as reflected in these texts.

Some cases are ambiguous. A few are plainly different, and these require supplementation of the first thesis. Certain actions were so clearly either royal or personal that they deviated from the apparent rule of the others. Such was Philip’s guarantee, for himself and the kings his successors, of the accord between Peter of Nevers, for himself and his successors, and the townsmen of Auxerre. The acquisition of land followed a different principle. Even in the first years of the reign,

there was at least a tendency to treat recently acquired lands as pertaining to the king and his heirs. A similar attitude may underlie the terms of the pariage with Cuissy, especially since the text speaks of Philip and the kings his heirs without mention of the crown. ‘This explanation would place very great stress on the heritable quality of

land. A different distinction may explain the mixed usage in the charter to ‘Tournai, where “successors” appear as requiring military service and “heirs” as imposing no further customs. For it had been for himself and his “heirs” that Philip had granted customs to VilleneuveSaint-Mellon (after he and his “‘successors’’ had acquired rights there by pariage), and various texts can be adduced to show that the exercitus was among the regalia.*®

The dates of these particular acts vary. Half of them predate Philip’s departure for the crusade. ‘The occasional variation in royal successionusage, when determined by the nature of certain kinds of actions, was

an early practice in Philip’s chancery and is not linked to the usage

88 The King’s Business introduced in 1190. The principles behind each are different: the first, based on custom and on regalian survivals; the second, on the apphication of juristic notions to produce a particular categorization. ‘The difference between them is all the clearer because the principles of the first seem to explain all of the occurrences of the term heredes from the early years of the reign and also every deviation from the new system after the adoption of the latter. ‘The first usage contains certain ele-

ments long present in royal charters and others found in some baronial texts; for some royal actions had long been associated with the kingly office and thus applied to successors, while lay barons were

accustomed to treat for themselves and their heirs with respect to churchmen, whose rights would pass to successors.** It is the second kind of usage which is signaled as an innovation, that which caused the king in most cases to act for himself and either his successors or his heirs, depending on whether the other party was ecclesiastical or lay.

These conclusions may seem stronger than the texts examined might warrant, but the case need not rest here, for documents from a few years later add further evidence. For present purposes there is a gap in the record, since royal acts issued between October 1201 and late-September 1203 contain no mention of either heirs or successors to the king.*® When reference to future kings resumes, again the evidence suggests the hypothesis already proposed. Forty-one examples

of succession-usage were counted in the royal acts issued from late- | 1203 to the end of 1206. Of these, thirty-eight mention Philip’s “heirs”

and three his “successors.’”’ In the latter group, the king dealt with churchmen, regulating the regalia of the sees of Langres and Arras and announcing the homage of the bishop of Limoges.*® All but two of the documents which speak of “heirs” concerned laymen, though another was for a village belonging to the monastery of Fécamp.*® Of the others, twenty-eight acts specified liege homage to Philip and his

heirs from vassals and their heirs, three concerned fiefs but without specification that the homage was hege, and one defined the fealty owed by the townsmen of Périgueux. Two others confirmed urban privileges in Poitou. I’wo involved cessions of land ‘‘to us and our heirs.’’41

‘The meaning of the term “heir” is again clear. The village of Boissy

was taken into “our protection” and an annual rent from it set with the stipulation that “neither we nor our heirs can ever remove this rent from the manus regia.’’*? The frequent grants in Normandy and the Plantagenet lands could be made by Philip only as feudal suzerain

The King’s Business 89 —that is, as king of France, for it was as king that he was overlord to these holdings, with the authority to confiscate and reenfeoft them.*? Presumably only those of his heirs who held the same position could be

associated with him in the liege homage from such fiefs. Numerous examples could be cited. Two acts remain in which Philip’s “heirs” are mentioned in his dealings with churchmen. One of these is clearly feudal. ‘Uhe king had

received a complaint from the bishop of Clermont-Ferrand that Pontius of Chapteuil and his wife had harbored the bishop’s enemies

in a castle held of the episcopal fief. Although cited three times to appear before the royal court, Pontius had refused, claiming to be judicable only by the king of Aragon. With the counsel of his barons, Philip adjudged the castle to the bishop, seizing him of it and its ap-

purtenances to be held “from us and our heirs.’** Here Philip was acting as suzerain. That the bishop of Limoges had recently done homage to Philip and his “‘successors”’ is a reminder that in the recently acquired territories Philip’s relation to the bishoprics remained a function of the royal office, not the suzerainty. In the case involving the

bishop of Clermont-Ferrand, however, the judgment of a lay vassal and the reassignment of his fief were different, and the old principles of the nature of the act governed the chancery usage in the king’s charter.

The other act is one by which Philip abandoned certain gites, in return for which the bishop of Auxerre renounced his right to homage for the town of Gien, now held by the king. If in the future the fief should return to the bishop, “‘we and our heirs shall have the aforesaid gites as before.” ‘There are textual problems with this act. ‘UVhe corresponding episcopal charter, which appears to have been drafted by a different clerk, is more in harmony with the established pattern of succession-usage. It is possible to rationalize the royal act into conformity with the same usage: for the bishop “quits ws of the fief and homage of Gien”’; if the fief leaves the royal possession, “we and our hevrs shall again have the gites’”’; “the bishop’ remits the homage “‘to us,’ with no mention of the successors to either party; Philip and his heirs “will have’ the gites if the arrangement changes—with “heirs”

mentioned only with regard to this potential right and in no other part of the text.*” This reasoning is circuitous; but Philip’s chancery was capable of subtlety, this reading is not contradicted by the terms of the bishop's charter, and the likelihood of dual composition of the two acts changes the argument from a forced concordance between

90 The King’s Business two standardized texts into a rather simple explanation of the paraphrase. It seems unnecessary to consider this case a contradiction, but in any event the thesis proposed here would not be nullified by one exception to the rule set by thirty-nine or forty otherwise consistent examples from the same three-year span.

The end of 1206 has been set as a rough terminus for the focus of

this discussion. ‘The date is artificial, corresponding more to the chronological arrangement of the published collection of Philip’s acts than to any events of the reign. Later examples have been cited when they clarify earlier usage. In general, however, succession-usage from the nine years beginning with 1207 follows the broad outlines already traced. Homages, all lay, and cessions of land from both laymen and clerics, are to the king and his heirs. ‘Transactions involving ecclesiastical vacancies and regalia, remission of homage, and pariage involve

his successors. Confirmations of communal charters reproduce the language of the original grants.*® Other acts are different. By the end

of 1209, and increasingly thereafter, ecclesiastical affairs concern Philip’s heirs. Property given to a monastery or to the Hospitallers is to be held “from us and our heirs.” The guarantee of an accord between a count and the abbey of Vézelay is made on condition that no reprisal be taken against “us or our heirs” by the pope or by any church

court. On the other hand, rights of justice or dominium and forest rights are treated with mixed usage, making unlikely a simple differ-

entiation of usage according to domanial or regnal criteria.*7 It is possible that such inconsistencies are related to expansions of the idea of the royal suzerainty, which could hardly have remained unchanged after the spectacular successes recently won against John.*8

| ‘The evidence of the documents from the years 1203 through 1206, and generally through 1215, thus confirms the principles posited as underlying the acts from 1191 to 1201. Louis, and others, were “heirs” in almost every lay capacity, but with churchmen only when acquiring lands or revenues which were not attached to the crown. ‘They were “successors” in a very tew, explicitly regnal, lay affairs and in almost all business contracted with ecclesiastical dignitates and corporations. Whatever may have prompted this practice by Philip’s chancery, the fact of the usage is unmistakable. Fifteen years of chancery formulations—or thirteen, if a two-years’ silence in the acts is negatively construed—followed then by the evidence from the subsequent nine years, testify to its regular application and thus to the importance which was attached to it.

The King’s Business 91 The principles thus established may now be applied to the references to the succession in the letters which Philip issued during his participation in the Third Crusade. Two of these—one to the archbishop of Reims on the subject of regalia, the other to the ‘Templars —speak of “‘successors.”’ ‘The other four—two regulating a dispute

between the abbey and the commune of Corbie, a third granting privileges to the Genoese, another announcing a treaty with Richard—

employ the term “heir.’’ Usage which was first noted as a possible innovation in, or perhaps a mere deviation from, chancery norms can now be explained through its conformity with the language of later royal acts. At the same time, conclusions which could not be ventured from an isolated six texts from 1190 and 1191 can be asserted on the basis of the more than fifty others from the subsequent fifteen years, confirmed by fifty more from the nine years which followed those. ‘The distinction between “heirs” and “‘successors”’ which governed chancery usage during the decade and a half following Philip’s return from the crusade is seen to have first been employed in documents issued from the king’s own entourage in the weeks immediately after his departure from Paris. As the later record shows, the new usage then became a matter of policy. ‘These facts strongly suggest that the king himself had approved the change.

Other circumstances of the alteration in formulas support this inference. Its appearance in royal acts followed shortly upon the publication of Philip’s testament of 1190, the first document of the reign to deal clearly with the succession to the throne. Anxiety for the young

heir was almost certainly an initial motive. The influence of juristic ideas is seen in the distinction between lay inheritance and the succession to ecclesiastical dignitates, but similar influence appears in por-

tions of the testament, too. The change in usage can be dated to a period of no more than five weeks and attributed to the king’s immediate circle. ‘Then, after Philip’s return from the East, this system of formulations was regularly employed. The Feudatories and the Royal Succession

The fact of the change is certain. The question now is its significance. Interpretation of the chancery language is delicate, because one seldom knows whether such formulations express anything more than the ideas of their authors. It cannot be presupposed that the terms of the charters of Philip Augustus reflected the actualities of power and

92 The King’s Business opinion in France any more reliably than had those of Philip I and Louis VI. But the evidence of this particular change in usage, even untested, is valuable because it directs attention to matters of pivotal importance which previously have only been hypothesized: the king’s pragmatic assessment of the strength of the blood-right and the attitude of the nobility toward hereditary royal succession. The first issue may be centered on Philip’s departure for the crusade, which exposed him to possible death and left his heir, a child not yet three years of age, uncrowned, not even acclaimed, yet the obvious king-to-be. This act was unprecedented; no Capetian had ever taken such a risk with the succession. If an arbitrary date is to be set for the discontinuance of anticipatory association in the French monarchy, it should be 1190, not 1223. And so, the basis of physical power—possession of land—is eliminated as a possible key to the establishment of the

hereditary principle, for Philip’s early territorial gains were not sufh-

cient to have produced this degree of confidence on his part. The explanation must be sought elsewhere. One factor is surely psychological. Philip must have believed that

he had been born to the throne—for who could have been more influenced by royalist views than the prince who had been reared among them? Philip’s father, grandfather, ancestors, had been kings of France;

he himself had been born to be king; his only son must have been heir to the crown, too. ‘The thought is obvious and natural; others must have held it too. How many, and which, others cannot be known.

A significant number of barons must have shared that view, for Philip judged that sufficient authority and power lay on the side of his son to overcome any opposition to him in the event of the father’s

death. A strong case can be made for that point of view. During Philip’s absence, the regents were the queen mother and Louis’s great-

uncle, the archbishop of Reims, the latter of whom had by then the exclusive right to consecrate the king of France and who would hardly have accepted a rival to his grand-nephew and ward. ‘The most powerful lay nobles accompanied the king on the crusade and so were neutralized, at least for the moment, but even if Philip had died, most of

them would probably have supported Louis. ‘The counts of Champagne and Blois were his close kinsmen; the count of Flanders was his great-uncle and was childless, his nearest heir being Louis’s own grand-

father, the count of Hainaut; Richard of England might be feared, but Philip had obtained his recognition of Louis at Messina. Although

The King’s Business 93 these men might well have struggled among themselves for control of the government and for self-aggrandizement, all of them could have

been expected to support Louis’s claim to the throne itself, since, lacking such right themselves, they could profit most from having him as king. In the absence of concrete information, it 1s vain to speculate as to possible sources of opposition.*®

It is evident, though, that Philip and his circle did not think that Louis’s rights were seriously threatened, for they seem to have made no attempt even to secure oaths relative to his accession. ‘That the issue had been considered emerges clearly from Rigord.°° ‘Then Philip's testament of 1190 brings the matter of the succession into prominence again: the possibility that Philip might die on the crusade is mentioned not only in his testament but in another act of that June and in several acts issued after his departure.*! The appearance of the new succession-usage immediately afterward is another sign of such concern. If the provisions of the testament and the letters regarding Corbie are examined in chronological order, there is even some hint of a growing

atixiety about the status of the heir, for the language employed is progressively more detailed. Finally, the treaty at Messina gave Philip some assurance that the most powerful of his vassals would not move actually to dethrone his son.

Reference to the testament suggests a conceptual unity to these documents, for a juristic notion related to those of the new successionusage is already implied in the expressions of the will. Alone among the royal acts of those years which contain harengae, this one begins with a statement of the offictum regium drawn from Roman civil law. It gives no hint of the religious ideal of kingship found in the formulations which Philip had inherited from the chancery of Louis VII. The

text includes no explanation of the nature of kingship or of the succession to it, but subsequent usage makes all the more striking this important citation of a lay (if perhaps not secular) rationale, and there were enough jurists close to Philip for the meaning of the passage to have been understood. Kings did have an officitum, but it was apparently by virtue of being filzws noster that Louis was expected eventually to regere regnum. The same fusion, or pairing, of concepts is found in one of the letters

from Messina. In it Louis is admonished “‘by the loyalty which a son owes his father” to observe Philip’s policy in the distinctively regnal obligations to a church, yet the next sentence requires that the same

94 The King’s Business be done “‘by whoever our successor may be, who will have the government of the kingdom after us and after our son.”’*? ‘The gubernacula

regni appears as an office existing independently of the king and his lineage but which after his death his son “‘will have” simply because he is the son. ‘The care that went into the formulation of these documents

and the conceptual unity behind them are implied by the judicious choice of terms in these first examples: it is as “‘successor” that Louis will deal with the see of Reims and with the Templars, as “son” that he will receive the office of government, as “heir” that he will inherit

his father’s obligations to the Genoese and the homage due from Richard. Given the continuity in the concepts behind the chancery usage, a strong case emerges that the same milieu produced both the juristic distinctions which were applied to royal succession and the testament from just a few weeks earlier. In the absence of direct testimony from the chroniclers, the appearance of this blend of legal concepts is the best proof of the care with which Philip and his advisers weighed the situation. Since Philip returned alive from the crusade, their judgment that Louis’s rights were secure was not put to the test, but the opinion

of that group on such a critical issue commands the greatest consideration. The first of the problems which were posed has thus been resolved.

The king’s appraisal is clear. He should have known what he was doing, but the limitations of that argument are evident. More nearly conclusive evidence of baronial sentiment must be sought. Documentation on that point comes, most of it indirectly, from the royal acts themselves. ‘Through a fortunate coincidence, 1t was precisely those charters containing the word “heirs” in place of “successors’ which were addressed to laymen. Attention is thus shifted from the circles of clerics and monks who dominate so many of the extant sources, and it turns instead to the lay feudatories, from whom hardly a direct word survives. Many of the documents contain ambiguities and so must be treated with caution. Such rigor excludes from consideration all of the texts which might have been misunderstood by contemporaries or which may appear to have been royalist propaganda. In the end few documents are reliable except those which concerned the feudal aristocracy. ‘These, however, are of the greatest interest and significance. For although the charters to the new towns of Dizy and Villeneuve-Saint-Mellon, for instance, mentioned “our heirs, kings of the French,” it is unlikely that the settlers even knew of that formula,

The King’s Business 95 and it is certain that they lacked sufficient military or political power for their opinion to matter very much in any event. Quite different,

however, were men like the lord of Orville, who in 1192 released Philip and his heirs from the homage due for the castle of Beauquesne. It is highly improbable that this lord did not understand and consent to exactly what the royal act records.

The clearest testimony comes from the records of liege homage, which begin several years later than the sources just mentioned. ‘Three such cases are known from the years between 1196 and 1202. Perhaps

as early as 1196, Philip gave the recaptured town and fortress of Nonancourt to his faithful knight, Peter Mauvoisin, with the provision that “the aforesaid Peter and his heir... shall do liege homage to us and our heir against all men.’’ At about the same time, he gave (srossoeuvre, in the Norman Vexin, to his baker, William Poucin, on

: the same terms. The first of these transactions 1s the more noteworthy, for Peter Mauvoisin was an outstanding soldier, and he belonged to an important vice-comital family; William Poucin was then just a

faithful servant of the king, although Philip later appointed him

| castellan of Rouen.** The third instance belongs to a different category. In 1197, in return for the service of one knight, Philip gave everything he possessed at Auffargis and Poigny to John of Rouvray,

a Norman baron; the fief was conferred in perpetuity, with liege homage and service from “John and his heirs” to “us and our heirs.’’®®

The geographical distribution of these fiefs should be noted: to the Norman John of Rouvray, whose support he probably was courting, Philip gave holdings in the securely Capetian district of Rambouillet; to William Poucin he gave a fortress in the Norman Vexin; to Peter Mauvoisin, whose family was from the French Vexin, he gave a fortress in southern Normandy. Disregarding other aspects of Philip’s practice, the location of these fiefs made their holders totally dependent on him for possession of them.®*® He was already suzerain to all these men, and

now immediate lord to John of Rouvray as well as to the others; and he had only one legitimate son and heir. Under these circumstances, the hereditary tenurial bond implies hereditary succession to the throne as well. ‘The sense is purely feudal, and no attributes from an extra-feudal kingship should be applied; but effective suzerainty— that is the crown—had been recognized to Philip and his heirs by these parties, and this acknowledgment had been made in person through oaths of liege homage.

The evidence is clearer still, and more abundant, beginning in late-

96 The King’s Business 1203, when Philip was moving against King John. Between September 1203 and the end of 1206, Philip’s chancery issued some twenty-nine

acts recording liege homage to the king and his heirs. Most of these dealt with lands recently conquered from John, and many of them were in favor of the native baronage. The list of those who thus swore

fealty to Philip and his heirs includes the following: Guérin of Glapion, seneschal of Normandy; William des Roches, hereditary seneschal of Anjou, Maine, and ‘Touraine, and lord of vast holdings; Aimery, viscount of Thouars, seneschal of Poitou and Aquitaine; Guy of ‘Thouars, husband of Constance of Brittany and soon to be duke of Brittany himself; Maurice of Craon, an Angevin magnate; his halfbrother, Juhel of Mayenne, the lord of numerous castles in and near Maine; Nicholas of Montigny and John of Rouvray, Norman lords;

and Elias, count of Périgord, who accepted his entire county as a fief.5” ‘his list is very incomplete, but it 1s adequate to show that the baronage of the former Plantagenet lands had accepted the hereditary feudal lordship which could only be the crown of France.* Barons from other territories also received such fiefs. In exchange

for the castle and castellany of Mortemer, Renaud of Dammartin, count of Boulogne, to whose daughter the king’s second son Philip Hurepel was betrothed, was given the county of Aumale and other holdings in liege homage to the king and his heirs. Robert of Courte-

nay, the king’s cousin, was given Conches and Nonancourt under similar conditions.®® Less impressive names could be added.

It may be asked what these lists of names signify—for what confidence may be placed in the word of barons who were known to rebel when circumstances afforded? It is true that Renaud of Dammartin

and Aimery of ‘Thouars were disloyal to Philip, but William des Roches, who betrayed him once, was faithful thereafter. The opportunistic ambitions which occasionally prompted revolts cannot discredit the feudal principles formally acknowledged in solemn oaths, and scholars have rightly stressed the seriousness with which most royal

overlord. , vassals viewed their fealty to the king.® The crucial element here is that the oaths were actually spoken, the barons themselves repeating

in person the formulas which bound them to a hereditary monarchical , Did the barons understand what they were saying? To all appear-

ances, they did. A number of baronial charters concerning these

same transactions are extant. ‘Two from William des Roches and one

The King’s Business 97 each from Aimery of Thouars, Elias of Périgord, and the two Drogos of Mello repeat, mutatis mutandis, the language of the royal acts. One from Robert of Courtenay is not quite a perfect match but repeats the essential terms of the grant. The charter from the men of Périgueux also reproduces the text of the corresponding royal act. Such in gen-

eral is the pattern of the pairs of reciprocal charters from Philip’s chancery.®!

Other texts yield complementary material. In March 1203, Maurice of Craon issued a charter announcing his homage to Philip. The act,

which was drawn after the disappearance of Arthur of Brittany, detailed what Maurice’s relation to Philip would be in each of the pos-

sible situations which might ensue. Then it concluded: “The lord _ king of the French has granted to me, moreover that he will not make

peace or a truce with John, king of England, without me, and that these conventions have been guaranteed by Louis, his eldest son, so that they may endure between the lord king of the French and his heirs and me and my heirs.’’®? Identical charters were issued by nine other barons of John’s northern territories—among them William des

Roches, Juhel of Mayenne, the count of Venddéme, and the lord of Montoire. ‘I'wo later charters of William des Roches refer to his and Philip’s heirs.** Did the others know and intend what the text says? Juhel of Mayenne must have; his aims emerge very clearly. In 1135, in

return for support in prosecuting Matilda’s claim to the English throne, Geoffrey Plantagenet had ceded to another Juhel of Mayenne,

grandfather of Philip’s vassal, three castles which “the said Juhel said were on his land”; in 1161, that Juhel died; early the next year, Henry II took back those castles from his son. ‘The same castles reappear in a grant which Arthur made to the younger Juhel and his heirs —and which Philip confirmed, again to Juhel and his heirs—in 1199. The repetition of claims, and of the terms in the charters, can hardly have been accidental. Instead, this Juhel, bargaining as his grandfather had done when circumstances allowed it, seems to have wanted the ancestral claims confirmed to his heirs; thus, the hereditary guarantees to both sides would have been completely to his liking. He and his fellow nobles could not have been bullied by Philip in March 1203,

when to all appearances John was still master of most of western France. ‘They accepted on their own, and for their own reasons, that Philip’s son was heir.

But heir to what? ‘This central question must be asked again. The

98 The King’s Business answer emerges more from the circumstances of the documents than from the words. The king of France was suzerain to Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, Poitou, and Aquitaine. Whom could the seneschals of those fiefs take as liege lord for their dapiferates except the same king?—and to what heirs could they promise liege homage except those who would become kings of France? ‘The demonstration must be cir-

cuitous because only rarely can Philip be identified as acting directly in a suzerain capacity. He had done so when his court had pronounced the confiscation of John’s fiefs and those of certain of John’s supporters, but afterward those lands were in the king’s posssession, and

it was as domanial lord that he administered them.® Many of the relevant texts have come down in abbreviated form, but a large proportion of those which prescribe obligations to Philip’s heirs governed lands or offices over which he held immediate rights by virtue of confiscation. Such was the case with the great seneschalships and certain whole counties; it was also true of numerous lesser holdings, which Philip now gave out to his own followers.®® Viewed in detail, the method is that of a great domanial lord, but the victory thus consoli-

dated was that of the suzerain, and the suzerainty pertained to the crown.°®?

Parallel conclusions are suggested by reference to the old circles of Capetian followers. Of these the great officers of the palace stand out

because of their special ties to the royalty. Whom could Robert of Courtenay, agnatic cousin of Philip Augustus and butler of France, take as liege lord for a major Norman fief except a king of France? Or to whom else could Drogo of Mello, constable of France, allow his

son to swear liege fealty for so large a holding as two castles and castellanies in ‘Vouraine?® The suzerainty, then, was part of the monarchy, and liege homage was done to Philip by vassals whose heirs were to hold from him and his heirs, kings of France. In theory, the royal office was still conferred by anointment, but the lay feudatories had recognized the homageable bases of the king’s power as heritable within his line. That assertion made, new questions arise—first, that of significance. One first response may be confidence at having escaped the pervasive ecclesiastical bias which so colors our view of medieval history. It is tempting to believe that more substantial insights will follow from the discovery of sources for lay opinion. ‘That supposition must be verified by other tests. ‘Vhe evidence presented here has consisted mainly of

The King’s Business 99 formulations from the royal chancery, some of them set into partial context. But how reliable are these words? Is the change in terminology

related to anything more than Capetian dynastic ambitions? And what broader significance, if any, does this pattern have? Our conclusions must be matched with questions not yet considered in order to learn if there are inconsistencies not yet apparent. The sources of the documents may first be noted. ‘They were written presumably by minor clerics in the king’s service; who dictated them

is not recorded, but there is reason to believe that the mind of the king was in conscious accord with their formulation. Moreover, their provisions were acceptable to a number of French nobles, liege vassals of the king; and similar provisions were advanced autonomously, if perhaps not quite independently, by several magnates and others of Normandy and the Plantagenet lands. Since the vassals surely understood the contracts which governed their lands and rights, clerical bias is not a major factor here. ‘hese are terms which the lay barons accepted—and sometimes either formulated or at least published under their own names.

The purpose behind the chancery formulas must be examined further if they are to be trusted as sources in the present investigation.

| The date and circumstances of the appearance of the new successionusage imply that the innovation in formulas was connected with discussion of Louis’s status as heir to the throne during the weeks preceding Philip’s departure for the crusade. ‘The king may then have

been anxious about his son’s succession. But that motive can be ascribed, if at all, only to three of the first instances of the new usage— to the letters dealing with Corbie and the pact with Richard—and such

concern cannot explain the consistency of usage for the fifteen years and more following the king’s return. The alteration of formulas was too subtle for it to have been intended as propaganda directed toward the lay baronage. In many cases the word “heirs” appears in phrases so unremarkable as quite easily to pass unnoticed, and the more prominent statements are too few and too scattered to have had a propagandistic aim. Instead, the pattern of the usage indicates that a wish to define more clearly the basic concepts of French kingship was at

: least part of the reason for the change.®® For this thesis to be valid, the data must be shown to have been in

accord with what is known of the thinking of the time. First, the ecclesiastical and feudal concepts should be reviewed. ‘The consensus

100 The King’s Business of the sources indicates that most of the clergy had long accepted hereditary succession to the throne. Yet the royal dignitas could not be truly hereditary, even if the exclusive right to it was; as the Lord’s Anointed, the king could have only successors. ‘This was not true, however, of the landed and homageable bases of the monarchy which distinguished the feudal suzerain and domanial lord from the hallowed

king. Feudal and other tenurial rights could and did pass to heirs according to both custom and written law.” In terms of prevalent concepts, then, the chancery usage did reflect a reality. Such concepts can have meaning, however, only to those who hold

them. It would be rash to assert that many of the lay feudatories of Philip Augustus knew what a dignitas was and why it “‘did not die” and could not pass to “heirs.” ‘They had little reason to concern them-

selves with canonical theory. It is thus an incomplete test of the reliability of our inferences to relate the chancery usage to a dual system of abstractions, one half of which many of the vassals probably did not understand. ‘he conclusions must be tested, not by their conformity with canonical jurisprudence, but by attitudes which can be verified for the social class involved. It is useful to recall that the nobles dealt most often with the king

in his feudal capacity. ‘This was especially true of their dealings with , Philip Augustus during the years he was moving against John and receiving their own homages. It was churchmen who were most concerned with royal functions which can be traced directly to the coronation oath.” Now if any conception is to be formed of the mentality of a feudal lord, stress on the principles of kinship and inheritance must be among its dominant traits; the cumulative weight of recent scholarship leads forcefully to that conclusion. ‘That feudal tenure in France had been governed by hereditary transmission throughout the eleventh and twelfth centuries is well documented. The firm establishment of this practice, by now an institution, applied to the lower as well as the higher feudal orders: thus one lord who held his fief by hereditary right was by inheritance the vassal of another, whose claim to homage was based on the same principle; and the sons of both would be mutually related in the same fashion. Consequently, by 1200 the

feudal mentality had been fully prepared to understand—or to expect —that the highest lordship, that of the suzerain king, might also pass by hereditary right.

Such is the generalization. It has been demonstrated for certain

‘The King’s Business 101 localities. Is it applicable to the regions and the individuals whose evidence has been used here? The answer is unreservedly positive. ‘Che

families of many of Philip Augustus’ vassals can be uncovered after some searching. Some of the lines can be traced back no further than

two or three generations; others reach back to the mid- or early eleventh century or even earlier. Not only were the families old, they were mutually related by common ancestry and intermarriage, and perhaps the bulk of their lands was inherited. It will be useful to review, more evocatively than comprehensively, a few of the lines of kinship and inherited tenure which are quickly seen in the circles of Philip’s vassalage. The first lord whose acts mentioned his own heirs and the king’s was Philip’s cousin, Peter IT of Courtenay, count of Nevers, grandson of a king, son and husband of heiresses. In a different category, the counts of Meulan, who had held their county since the early eleventh century, were descended from a junior branch of the house of Valois-Amiens; in the twelfth century,

they had allied themselves by marriage to a lady of the tamily of Vermandois, niece of Philip I, and to a woman of the families of Montfort, Rochefort, and Garlande.7? Peter Mauvoisin, Philip’s dilectus et fidelis, was from the family of the viscounts of Pontoise, whose line can be traced from at least the mid-eleventh century; an earlier Mauvoisin had been archbishop of Reims, and others of the family figure in the acts of Philip Augustus. The ancestors of Simon and Robert of Poissy are recorded from the early eleventh century; Philip acquired by cession one parcel of Simon’s inherited lands. The castellan John of Gisors, another dilectus et fidelis, was the third generation of his family to hold that fortress.** On a lower stratum, three brothers of Vallangoujard, in the Vexin, assembled with their heirs to conduct family business. Later, the eldest heir of the senior line approved a donation of tithes held from him by two generations of the family of Fay, descendants of his grandfather’s vassals, one of whom was married to a Vallangoujard cousin. Philip confirmed the donation as the lord from whom the tithes were held.” The interrelations, both by kinship and by feudal bonds, among such families can be shown by any number of routes.

/ The pattern is repeated in the noble families of the Plantagenet territories. Of the barons who switched their loyalty to Philip in 1203, Maurice of Craon and Juhel of Mayenne were half brothers through

: their mother, a daughter of the count of Meulan. They, too, were thus

102 The King’s Business descended from the counts of Amiens, from the Montfort-Rochefort-

Garlande connection, from Henry I of France, and from the more recent Vermandois. The family of Craon was old, tracing its descent and its lordship from a son of Robert the Burgundian, a cadet of the count of Nevers (thus grandson of Robert II), who had married the heiress of the great Angevin family of Sablé. The house of Mayenne was equally distinguished. It had held its castle since before 1040. Juhel’s paternal grandmother had been a daughter of William ‘Talvas,

count of Alencon and Ponthieu and lord of Belléme, descendant on one side of the tenth-century Belléme and on the other of the counts of Ponthieu, and through them of Hugh Capet. Juhel was thus cousin

to Robert III of Alencon and William III of Ponthieu, supporters of Philip Augustus, the second of whom was married to Philip’s sister.” The count of Venddme, whose wife was a daughter of Robert II of Dreux, was heir to an unbroken succession of counts going back into the tenth century; the lord of Montoire was his cousin.7® Of the nobles reviewed here, only William des Roches was a novus homo. William did possess some inherited lands of his own, but he owed his position to his marriage to the heiress of the house of Sable. The lady of Sable,

Craon.”? . mother of William’s wife, was Clemence of Mayenne, Juhel’s aunt. Some years later, William’s elder daughter and heiress married a

The relationships indicated are incomplete, and the persons named are almost exclusively among those already found to have sworn fealty to Philip and his heirs for themselves and their heirs. Yet even within these narrow limits, in both of the regions surveyed there emerges the image of an old, stable, landed aristocracy organized in a dynastic structure. One is struck by how many of them were related to both Philip and John, sometimes through two or more channels.“® Their family connections, the intermarriage, the descent—often from two common ancestors—mark them as a caste. Other aspects of their behavior, too, point to consciousness of family or class.“ A survey of their collective

experience and social structures suggests the pervasive influence of ancestral status and inherited wealth. Recurrently, often obscurely and debatably, the models for the

hereditability of property and for related family structures are thought to have passed from the royalty above to the nobles below. Did the reverse movement now occur in the form of baronial acceptance of a

hereditary royal suzerainty, the immediate source for which was the :

The King’s Business 103 vassals’ image of themselves? The question cannot be answered directly, but several pieces of highly suggestive evidence can be adduced. In 1172, Louis VII made the count of Macon and the lord of Beaujeu swear fealty “to us and our son.”®° In the decade following 1196, many

barons and kings pledged fealty to Philip and his heirs on behalf of themselves and their heirs. In 1203, ten barons from John’s lands did

lege homage to Philip, and the agreements were guaranteed by Philip’s eldest son “in order that these conventions may endure between the lord king of the French and his heirs and us and our heirs.” The parallelism in the language employed for both sides argues in favor of just such an upward transfer of the presumption of heritability. But the model must be more inclusive than that, for when the nobles looked at the monarchy, much of what they saw corresponded rather well with the notions they projected. Their king had been born as heir to his father’s and grandfather’s inherited status and possessions; his association with his ailing father had not been radically different from some of the arrangements of condominium, partnership, or endowment of the heir which they or others whom they knew had

| or would set up.®' ‘Thus, the presuppositions, and the disposition toward them, moved in both directions—from the king downward, as well as from the barons upward—and so the ideal does not rise from below, but rather two branches of it are brought together. The reci-

, procity of the provisions of 1203 is extremely significant. Louis’s guarantee, and not mere consent, could only benefit John’s defiant vassals. His son’s adherence offered little, if anything, to Philip, and such confirmations are absent from all other such documents issued by the royal chancery. ‘To the barons, however, this clause provided protection and insurance of the rights of their own heirs. The succession of Louis, and of Philip’s other heirs, was apparently assumed. That the context was feudal is shown by the contractual nature of the arrangements, which were sealed by liege homage.

4 / ‘The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism

‘The same decades from which widespread feudal acceptance of the hereditary royal suzerainty is recorded are also the period of the first sustained and progressively developed expressions of a Capetian dynasticism. ‘Ihe synchronism risks distortion. Earlier examples of both phenomena are found in the extant sources, and doubtless more would appear if the volume of texts were larger. Yet a difference between the earlier and later occurrences 1s implied by the sequel: the latter pro-

duced enduring results whereas the former had not done so. In this light, the concordance in dates between the systematic chancery usage

just treated and the appearance of an ongoing tradition of royal dynasticism is indicative not merely of the accidents of documentation but of a genuine thrust in the development of the monarchy. Capetian dynasticism was not expressed in a well-integrated body of theory. Rather, one finds for it a mass of data, many of them fragmentary and in detail often inconsistent, yet all serving to justify or exalt the ruling dynasty. Its stresses—the royal right of the dynasty and the enhancement of that right through genealogical and religious sanctions, the distinction between which is often unclear—were inevitably

bound up with notions of the family and its relation to the throne. In time, this tradition of beliefs lent to the royal succession either new or sharpened, and certainly quite special, qualities.

The Capetian Blood-Right and Carolingian Descent Dynasticism may be regarded as a problem in the history of ideas

and attitudes. If so, a political background for its elaboration in France had been well established by the end of the twelfth century. ‘The Capetians were secure in their hereditary rule. Philip Augustus and Louis VIII had successively been acknowledged as royal heirs dur-

ing their childhood. The testaments of both kings presupposed the succession of their eldest sons.! When Louis VIII died, his eldest sur-

viving son was a minor, and the dying king made the attendant magnates swear to have the boy promptly crowned and to raise the son 104

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 105 next in age if the first should die.? Different evidence suggests com-

plementary conclusions. There are at least two articulations of a stronger sentiment of hereditary right: the king’s eldest grandson, son of the heir, is regarded as future king. The first such text is unequivocal: an unknown poet celebrated the birth of Philip, eldest son of Louis VIII, as that of the future lord of the French and the English, the successor who, it was hoped, would have the mores as well as the name of his grandfather.? What circulation was given the poem is unknown, but its entry into the chancery register gives it a sem1-official character. After young Philip’s death, Louis, the next surviving son,

became the presumptive heir. No document explicitly states so, but Joinville recorded a reminiscence by St. Louis of advice he had received from his grandfather on the reward of servants; since Louis was only nine years old when Philip Augustus died, one may infer that

this was a lesson on rule given by the old king.* Evidence of other kinds also reflects the hereditary premise. In the pattern of names given, each eldest son for four generations was named for his paternal grandfather.® Innocent III several times acknowledged the rights of the future Louis VIII and, when legitimatizing Philip Augustus’ children by Agnes of Meran, he even suggested that they would have that right if Louis should die.® By 1252, the position of the heir had become so strong that when the queen mother died during St. Louis's absence on

: his first crusade, her regency was continued by the king’s brothers and the regency council in the name of his eldest son, a child of eight." In contrast to the easier generalizations which the political trends allow, the body of dynastic ideas is more complex and less reducible to unified lines of direction. ‘The shared elements of legitimism in all the accounts suggest that their goal was to rationalize Capetian rule in

the face of the original usurpation. ‘The stimulus behind this need is obscure. Memories of the great Carolingian monarchs certainly persisted, although no effort was made to put a descendant of Charles of Lorraine on the throne. Nor did the first Capetians make their own Carolingian descent a basis for their royal title, probably because such advancement of a kinship-tie with the old dynasty would have opened the field to rivals with superior blood-rights. The mere fact

| of Carolingian descent would not create a right to the throne among a nobility whose “lines descended from the blood of kings.’”’ Other tales

were spread to explain Capetian rule.’ Carolingian descent through marriage was claimed for them very seldom and perhaps not until the

106 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism twelfth century. No vaguer attribution in a formal text can be proven to predate the reign of Louis VI. Even the name Louis appears only in 1081, after the first attacks by the Gregorian papacy had created new challenges to the monarchy; and unmistakable though its Carolingian allusions are, nothing in the royalist historiography suggests that stress was placed upon them.°® There seems to have been increasing attention

to the Carolingians generally in the late-eleventh and twelfth centuries. Within France, the wide dissemination of the anti-Capetian Historia Francorum of Sens, and the apparent assumption of ideas from it into some of the chansons de geste, probably made some audiences question the rulers’ title. Of the earlier justifications for the new dynasty, the legend of Sts. Valery and Riquier by which the throne had been promised to seven successions of the descendants of Hugh Capet —that is, probably to eight generations—seems to have been widely known. Some writers read “seven” to mean “forever,” but others took the number Iiterally.1° The force of such questions cannot be known.

It is demonstrable, however, that there was a great increase in Carolingian interest in Capetian circles by the last quarter of the twelfth century. It is likely that this impulse was spurred by the crusades and crusading thought.'! Other influences may be hypothesized.

That the sword of Charlemagne was carried at the coronation of Philip Augustus is often taken as a sign of such interest on Philip’s part; the inference is plausible, but there is no context by which to judge it.1? From earlier decades, Suger gives no hint of Carolingian descent for the king in his Life of Louis VI or in the one of Louis VII which he began; nor does Odo of Deuil in his chronicle of Louis VII's crusade, although Charlemagne was a probable crusading model for him; nor does the continuator of the Historia gloriosi regis Ludovict, although the account there of the birth of Philip Augustus would have provided the opportunity to insert one, had it been desired. The lack of such mention in the royalist texts is remarkable, for writers outside the Capetian domains were ascribing Carolingian ancestry to the kings during the same period in which the Parisian sources are silent on the question. Around 1120, Lambert of Saint-Omer transcribed a series of genealogies, one of which made Hugh Capet the grandson of a Carolingian king Lothatr; it is likely that Lambert also attributed Carolingian descent to at least one Capetian queen. Around 1150, a monk

| of Saint-Claude, in the Franche-Comté, copied a text which said that through his mother Hugh Capet was descended from Charlemagne.

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 107 One Angevin annalist who wrote in the 1160s noted that Hugh was a cousin of Lothair and of Louis V; another had Louis V give his daughter and the kingdom to Robert II.?° A text of unknown provenance

written during the reign of Louis VII gave that king Carolingian descent through his mother.'* In the late-1180s, Bertran de Born, troubadour and minor lord in the Dordogne, made Charlemagne an ancestor of Philip Augustus.1> As always, more was known or believed

by contemporaries than is recorded in the extant texts; for example, the collateral relatives of the queens Bertha of Holland and Adelaide of Maurienne doubtless knew of the Carolingian descent of their own lines and so extended it to Louis VI and Louis VII.1® In sum, a considerable number of persons knew of this prestigious descent which the Capetians’ own writers did not mention.

Beginning in the reign of Philip Augustus, an increasing number of writers linked the Capetians genealogically to the Carolingians or by a combination of this and other means justified Capetian rule. In the first decades, these attempts appear as possibly encouraged by the kings but certainly without unified direction, for the documents reveal

the greatest diversity in approach and in the claims made. In later decades, there was sure royal sponsorship in some cases, although consistency in the view was never imposed.

Perhaps the first allegation of Carolingian descent in an authoritative Capetian source is that written between 1185 and 1196 by Rigord in his Gesta Philippi August. But Rigord merely traced the legendary ‘Trojan descent of the French kings, adding: “We believe that all the kings of the French have been descended from this ancient source.’’'? He still called Hugh Capet a usurper, and he did not explain the descent of the Capetians from the older royal line. His assertion, qualified as a statement of belief and against “‘the opinion of others,” appears almost as a pious wish rather than a firm claim. The wording

is probably deceptive. In his Short Chronicle of the Kings of the French, Rigord reported Stephen II’s anointment of Pippin and his sons and the pope’s restriction of the royal succession to their descend-

ants.’8 It is almost inconceivable that Rigord would have written this if he excluded Philip Augustus from the royal race. He must in

some way have linked the Capetians to the Carolingian line. | A similar view emerges from the Karolinus, which Giles of Paris

presented in September 1200 to the future Louis VIII.1® This poem was intended to instruct Louis in kingly virtue through the example

108 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism of Charlemagne. Although Giles does not actually call Louis a descendant of Charlemagne, he clearly assumed that descent. First, he proclaimed the royal blood-right in charged language. He also explicitly accepted Carolingian legitimacy and thus, by implication, the Carolingian descent of Philip Augustus and Louis VIII. The order of his statements is not chronological, but the meaning is clear. Early in

the poem, Louis is called the “sole offspring of that holy Elizabeth” and the “holy portion cut from the loins of the magnificent Philip”; then he is urged to follow “the examples of your fathers’—a noteworthy statement since the poem treats chiefly the deeds of Charlemagne but also praises Pippin, Charles Martel, Louis the Pious, and Charles the Bald, while criticizing Philip Augustus because of his marital irregularities and his consequent disputes with the church.”° The poem recounts Stephen II’s anointing of Pippin and his sons and

the anathema “should anyone who was not an heir of that blood presume to trouble them or their successors concerning the right of the kingdom.’’?! Pippin’s rise to the throne is portrayed as his assumption in name of a power which he already held in fact and by birth. ‘Then

his descent from the royal line is traced: his grandfather, another Pippin, “though not of the direct line, was of the blood of the kings of the Franks, whom their Trojan blood begot to the kingdom, having come forth as heir from the loins of so great a stock.”*? ‘Then, at the end of the poem, Louis is addressed as “‘heir to the kingdom, of the royal blood,” and is reminded of Charlemagne’s deeds as proof of “how

great is the glory of the kings of the French and of what a great kingdom and of what exalted blood” he is the“heir.” Finally, he is called Karolida.?8

Giles does not explain this descent, but some hints of his historical views may be inferred from the series of genealogical trees which he ap-

pended to the Karolinus as a complement to the poem. In a passage introducing the family trees Giles says that he has traced Charlemagne’s predecessors from the foundation of Sicambria, and also his successors—and the years of rule of each—in order to show “how far

from that beginning and how near to us Charles was.” In another note he explains that the charts are made clearer by his use of a code

of symbols: the names of the kings of France are written in red, with | other signs for the queens, other kings, emperors, and others. ‘The last figure on the family tree is Louis himself, who is identified only as

“Ludouicus puer’” but whose name is written in red, doubtless be-

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 109 cause he was heir to the throne. Since the book was presented to the literate and studious prince, and at a time when interest in Charlemagne was strong, it is likely that Louis read it.?4

The family trees begin with the Trojan Franks and continue to contemporary times. Alongside the later Merovingians, the putative royal descent of the Carolingians is traced.*° ‘Then the latter are shown

as kings, and their line, including collaterals, from Pippin the Short to Louis V is given. Beside the later Carolingians, Giles gives the “descent (origo) of the modern kings of France” from Robert the Strong to Hugh Capet; then, beginning with Robert II, he enters the Capetians in the central chart of kings. No kinship between the Carolingians and the Capetians is indicated. Giles’s treatment of the Robertinians is remarkable. Robert the Strong is called “Count of Anjou,

Saxon by race,’ but his name, this label, and the rubric “Origo modernorum Regum Francie’ all appear in red, the color of kings. Odo is “guardian of Charles the Simple and king in his place,” and although Odo’s name appears in brown ink the cartouche which encloses it is in red. Robert I is identified only as princeps; his seizure

of the throne is not mentioned. Hugh Capet, by contrast, is shown as a usurper: in a note by the name of Louis V, Hugh is said to have “taken the kingdom from Louis’s brother Charles and his descendants,’ and the label under Hugh’s name in the family tree is that of

) obtentor regnt. Furthermore, his name is written in brown, as if to deny his royal title. But the vertical lines drawn under his name to introduce the continuation of the Capetian chart are in red, as are the names of Robert II and all of his successors. ‘These Capetians thus appear as legitimate kings. Clearly Giles thought that the Carolingian dynasty had ended with

Louis V, whom he calls the last of that prosapia; yet he regarded Louis VIII and probably Philip Augustus as descendants of Charlemagne and acknowledged the legitimacy of their predecessors beginning with Robert II. Since Giles does not allude to St. Valery’s proph-

ecy or to other divine intervention, the only criteria for royal title which he expressed are those of blood and of suitability in one descended from the royal line. In the annotations to the chart, he portrayed the late Carolingians as veges inutiles and implied that suitability was the basis for Capetian rule.?6 He may have assumed that the Capetians had Carolingian blood, but he traced none for them. Giles of Paris may have known that Carolingian descent for Philip

110 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism Augustus was traced by some through Philip’s mother, Adela of Champagne, whose ancestor, Rollo, was said to have married a daughter of Charles the Simple. The legend of that marriage, which stemmed

from Norman historiography, was repeated ca. 1205 by a French chronicler who wrote to extol the deeds of the recent kings, especially Philip Augustus.?” Actual expositions of such descent are found only in isolated texts. A forceful reminder that much more was said than is now known comes from the letter Novit alle, written by Innocent ITI in 1204, in which the pope noted that Philip Augustus “is known” to be descended from Charlemagne.?® The pope had many channels of information; his remark presumably echoes reports which had come to him from France. There is no way to judge the circulation or impact

of such ideas. ‘The absence of real Carolingian claims in either the final version of Rigord or the prose chronicle of William the Breton refutes the hypothesis of a campaign to influence French opinion by such means. ‘The earliest fragment of evidence toward that end which stems from sure royal initiative appears around 1209, when a natural son of Philip Augustus was named Peter Karlotus, after Charlemagne. Modern scholarship has made much of this event, but more caution

might be appropriate. The child was a third son and only a bastard, legitimatized later and destined for the church. Comparison with the names given to the children of Louis VIII during the same period shows only the tenth son named Charles, and he too was at first intended for a clerical career.”®

The force of the impulse is not, however, to be dismissed. Irrefutable evidence proves its importance, at least for the last years of the reign. Before 1220, Gerald of Wales, a partisan of Louis VIII’s pre-

tensions to the English throne, returned to Britain after a visit to Saint-Denis and filled his De instructione principis with tales he had gathered to promote the candidacy of the Capetian prince. Among these was the claim that the French kings down to his own time were of the race of Pippin and Charlemagne. By around 1220, William the

Breton was composing his Philippidos, in which he lauded Philip Augustus’ Carolingian descent and gave him the epithet Karolida.*° ‘This work commands attention because its author was well placed to know what praises his master would most welcome. Differently authoritative, but vague, are the notes which Stephen of Gallardon, a chancery clerk, entered into one of the royal registers in 1220 or soon thereatter. One of these gives an abbreviated version of the prophecy

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 111 by St. Valery promising the throne to Hugh Capet and his progeny for “‘seven successions.” Another is a long rendition of the legend of the Sibylline prophecy about a “‘salicus rex of France named K.” who would ascend the Mount of Olives at the end of time. It seems unlikely

that the tortuously over-embellished version of the latter prophecy found here could have been intended for propagandistic publication, but some significance was attached to it for it to have been entered in the register at all. Stephen’s notations are too cryptic for firm conclusions to be drawn from them, except to place in the royal circles ideas whose meaning in other texts is sure. Stephen also entered a chronological list of the French kings in the same register, but there is no hint as to what interrelation he saw among the various fragments.*? Fuller dynasticism appeared soon afterward. William the Breton’s Philippidos, which was completed around 1224, is unlike any earlier work of Capetian historiography. While recounting and praising the deeds of Philip Augustus, William also glorified the royal race and its

living members. From the time they entered Gaul, the Franks had been ruled by a single line of kings: some were direct descendants, others collateral ones, but Philip Augustus and his sons were descended from Pippin and Charlemagne. The manner of descent is not

explained. Significantly, William reworks the early history of the Franks, much developing the traditional accounts of the royal succession. He identifies Francio as Francio Priamida to stress that he was Priam’s grandson; in the same way, he attaches the name of Marcomirus to that of Pharamund. Adjectival use of a given name, while an

uncommon form, was not peculiar to William the Breton, but its effect in his poem is to accentuate the meaning of the epithet Karolida applied to Philip Augustus.** ‘The mechanics of succession are also

elaborated. Marcomirus is said to have “given” Pharamund to the Franks as king; Clodio, dying, “left the royal scepter to Meroveus, making the son succeed by right of the father’; Meroveus begot Childerich “and, dying, made him king and his successor by paternal right.”*? In this depiction, memories of recent custom are transposed

into a past age, yet one in which the blood-right is seen as unchallenged. ‘The pattern is no different in the portrayal of Philip Augustus. Philip had been “sole and only heir to his father and to the kingdom,” anointed with the miraculous oil of Reims, “our Karolida,” yet con-

ceded no more by the “transfer of the royal scepter’ than that “as legitimate heir he should succeed his father.”’ And it is “‘as eldest son,

112 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism as heir of the master’s blood,” that Louis VIII is expected to succeed Philip.*4

A picture of dynastic and historical continuity thus emerges from the Philippidos. Certain traits or expressions warrant further notice. William the Breton explicitly attributes royal genius to princes outside the direct line of succession: to Peter Karlotus and, more significantly, to the family of Dreux, great-grandsons of a king.?®> A mixture of concepts appears in the terms by which right to the throne 1s expressed. For all the praise of the royal genus, it is by direct familial inheritance

within the line that the crown devolves: to the primogenitus, the herilis sanguinis heres, from the genttor; to the natus by patris jure; paterno jure to the successor; to the heres patri et regno.®® Religious

attributes are added to these. Louis VII, while not emphatically praised, is still pzws. Philip, however, is accompanied by the miraculous, and at Bouvines he “blesses” his army, a gesture modeled on the epic representation of the divinely inspired Charlemagne.*? ‘Then, miracles occur as soon as Philip dies; some occurred on the spots where his coffin touched the ground as it was being carried to Paris; the king appeared with St. Denis in a vision at Rome to tell a citizen to inform the pope of his death; cures were effected at his grave.*® William calls him rex sanctificatus and rex sanctus. Nor was holiness reserved for the dead king alone, for in urging conquest on Louis VIII, William recalls that God had revealed such a future for him to Isabella “when she bore the holy weight, now you, in her womb.’’*? William’s epitome

of the succession of 1223 is remarkable: “The king died, whence all mourned. ‘The miracles of the sanctified king, and the beginning of

the reign, changed the grief into joys, Louis having been anointed with the heavenly oil.”*° ‘Through powerful images, if not articulated thought, this passage may suggest a motif of cyclical renewal. In the full text, William recounts at length the “holy” king’s miracles; then he praises the beginnings of Louis VIII's reign, urging Louis to conquer a second kingdom for himself. It is unclear whether later royalist mysteries should be read into this text, but one does find during the period a recurrent tendency to view the dead king as especially pious or holy, or even as a saint, and the successor as a special youth or hero. More extreme statements of royal mysticism are recorded from the

time, and William the Breton was in a position to know some of them.*?

Writing almost contemporaneously with William the Breton, a

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 113 canon of Saint-Martin at Tours composed, in defense of Capetian rule, the most detailed and explicit attempt to link the Capetians with the Carolingians that is known from the reign of Louis VIII. In his Chronicon magnum Turonense, this writer sought to refute the opinion of the many who said that in 987 the family of Charlemagne had ceased to rule in France. Arguing that attention to the genealogy of the

emperors showed the contrary to have been the case, he traced an erroneous genealogy in which Hedwig, mother of Hugh Capet, was depicted as a great-granddaughter of the Carolingian Louis the Child (who in fact had no offspring). While acknowledging that Hugh Capet had not been “‘of the direct line of the family of Charles and of the kings of the French,” and admitting that Charles of Lorraine had been the only close heir to Louis V from the royal race, this chronicler af-

firmed that the entire Capetian dynasty had been of Carolingian | descent.*”? The writer himself was close to the circles of Louis VIII, but his ideas were not adopted into the more influential works of later royalist historiography.*? Consequently, they have been neglected also by modern scholars. Fragments of evidence from the same years supplement this record. ‘The names of Louis VIII’s youngest sons reflect interest in his distant

ancestors: one born early in 1223 was named Philip Dagobert and | probably called Dagobert; another, born in 1226, was named Charles.** , At about the same time, a new tomb was placed over the grave of Clovis in the church of Sainte-Genevieve at Paris; the inscription on it began:

| “Here is the illustrious King Louis, who before his baptism was called Clovis.’’*° Visitors to the shrine would have drawn the connection between the two Louis’s. Pertinent documentation is sparse for the first

years of St. Louis’s reign, but one text—a verse sermon dating from around 1230—repeats familiar ideas when speaking of the young king and his brothers: De biaus enfans i a, Dex les escroisse en bien! De saint liu sont venu, assés feront de bien. Por le pére est li fius quia nom Looys. .. .46

The next clear text is also an authoritative one: the Speculum : histortale compiled for St. Louis by Vincent of Beauvais, the final version of which was completed in 1253 or 1254. Earlier sections of this work had recorded, in derivative form, the advent of the Carolingians, Stephen II’s pronouncement on the French succession, and the usurpa-

114 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism tion by Hugh Capet. When Vincent came to the reign of Louis VIII,

however, he introduced a new theme, also derivative but new to Capetian historiography: in the person of Louis VIII the kingdom of the French had been “returned” to the family of Charlemagne. ‘The narrative recalled the Trojan background, the rule of Clovis’ line until Pippin became king, the pope’s anointment of Pippin and his sons and

his “blessing of their generatio in the perpetual inheritance of the royal succession” with the anathema against intruders. ‘That line ruled until Hugh Capet usurped the throne and the kingdom was transferred from the Carolingians to the family of the counts of Paris. The proph-

ecies of St. Valery and Riquier to Hugh were given. Of the promise of rule for seven successions, Vincent notes that “in some books sempiternam is found where we say septimam.” His own version 1s literal, however, for he counts seven generations from Hugh Capet to Louis VIII, and the latter had Carolingian blood through his mother, Isabella of Hainaut. The conclusion was: “Since, therefore, this Louis succeeded his father in the royality, it 1s evident that the kingdom has been returned to the progenies of Charlemagne.’’**

The historiographical outlines of this tradition, the reditus regna Francorum ad stirpem Karoli, have been traced by Karl Ferdinand Werner. Devised by Andrew, monk of Marchiennes, it first appears in his Historia succincta dé gestis et successione regum Francorum, which he finished probably in 1196.48 In that work, the reditus appears as an expression of Andrew’s legitimist patriotism, according both with

his historical bias and with his wish to laud the family of Isabella, daughter of a patron of his monastery. Andrew’s notion spread into France. William of Andres, who died in 1234, knew of the work, although he does not seem to have used it when writing his own chronicle. A number of manuscripts copied or derived from Andrew’s text repeated his theme.*? By 1254, Vincent of Beauvais had the text. From him the motif was taken up by the author of the prose Gesta Ludovict VIII, then by the continuators of the Grandes Chroniques of SaintDenis. By the time it was incorporated into the Grandes Chroniques,

probably in the 1270s, Philip Augustus was said to have married Isabella “expressly to recover the line of Charlemagne.” That modern

scholars explain that marriage by other motives is irrelevant to the present context. For the late-thirteenth-century writer to have removed

all trace of accident and to have made the genealogical alliance de-

liberate, stress must have been placed on the reditus by his time.

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 115 Whether propagation of the theme was directed to the advantage of Saint-Denis, where most of the kings were buried, or to that of Philip III, is unessential. The king and the abbey were in close alliance during that time, and exaltation of the royal line could only benefit both of them.*°

The Grandes Chroniques contain other evidence of the force of Capetian dynasticism: it was in part to publicize the royal descent that the collection was compiled and translated. Primat, who directed the work, says so in the first sentence of the prologue: “Because many people questioned the genealogy of the kings of France, from what origin and by what lineage they descended, he [Primat] undertook to do this work by the command of such a man that he neither could nor should refuse.’’®! The man who requested the work is commonly taken to have been St. Louis; the date of his order should probably be placed

in the 1260s. The evolution of the Grandes Chroniques has attracted

much scholarly interest, and the historiography of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries is a fruitful source for investigation of the political attitudes of the time. But studies of the Grandes Chroniques have overlooked one very significant innovation in the text: the stress on the royal lineage contained in the prologue. There is no such statement in the model which was copied verbatim for the quite long passage which immediately follows that sentence; that source, the Historia regum of ca. 1205, set as its goal the publication of the deeds of the kings, not their lineage. No such reason is given, either, in the dedicatory letter to Aimoin’s chronicle, which had introduced the Latin chronicles of Saint-Denis compiled earlier in the reign, one part of which was trans-

lated into the vernacular prologue.®? Nor is one found in the prose chronicle of William the Breton. A possible model for the sentence was available in Rigord’s Gesta Philippi Augustt, but only in a different context. Well into that work, Rigord had traced the descent of the French kings; he claimed that he had compiled the information “because many people are accustomed to question the origin of the kingdom of the French and in what manner and how the kings of the French are said to have descended from those Trojans.’’°? Similar expressions appear, also, in his short chronicle of the French kings.™

The particular arrangement of these ideas in the prologue to the Grandes Ghroniques marks, however, a reordering of stresses in the royalist historiography. Even Rigord’s short chronicle had promised

to recount the deeds of the kings as well as their genealogy. It is

116 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism profoundly suggestive that the first sentence of the Grandes Ghroniques should mention only the latter and proclaim it as the purpose of the entire work. That such a conception was introduced at SaintDenis accords well with the evocations there of the royal tombs, which

were already a reminder and display of the line of descent. Primat, however, attributes the idea to St. Louis himself. Since the history was presented to Philip III, who could be expected to read at least the first

sentence and to recognize any major falsehood concerning his own father, strong evidence would be needed to reject Primat’s word. None exists. The context of the work and the historiographical background limit the import of the statement, but some kernel of truth to it must remain.

Even if the instigation is laid to St. Louis, one would wish for assurance that the idea was taken seriously and that it is not to be considered a mere fancy. Forceful evidence to that effect exists from the same decade. In the early 1260s, new tombs were constructed for most of the kings and queens buried at Saint-Denis and the disposition of their graves altered. Guillaume de Nangis, in his Latin chronicle,

describes the work, which he says was done at the joint initiative of | St. Louis and of Matthew of Vendome, abbot of Saint-Denis. Guillaume |

mentions the new tomb efhgies and explains that the bodies of the kings and queens, which formerly had lain “in various places” in the | church, were moved so that those of the genus of Charlemagne were placed in the right part of the monastery and those of the line of Hugh | Capet in the left.°° The Annales ad cyclos paschales of Saint-Denis also record the move, listing the royal graves and the dates of the transfers:

mid-March 1264 for the Capetians, later the same year for the Carolingians.*°

From thirteenth-century texts and from later plans of Saint-Denis,

the following pattern emerges for the position of the royal tombs. ‘That of Charles the Bald, special patron of the abbey, stood in the monks’ choir, in front (to the west) of the matutinal or Trinity altar.*” Behind and to the right (south) of the main altar, the tomb of Dagobert

remained in its original position. Between the matutinal and main altars, the tombs of one Merovingian and seven Carolingians (with Charles Martel counted as a king) were placed in pairs in chronological ,

order in a row on the right side of the choir, and those of eight Capetians in a corresponding formation on the left side. In the center,

between the two altars, the tomb of Louis VIII stood in the middle, ,

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 117 with that of Philip Augustus on the left and a space, eventually used for St. Louis, on the right. It is not sure when Philip Augustus and Louis VIII were interred at this spot, although it seems likely that their graves had been there since at least 1234, and an earlier date is probably to be preferred.°®

The effect of this pattern was to proclaim the union of the two royal lines. Flanked by the rows of painted stone gisants of their predecessors, the gold and silver tombs of Philip Augustus and Louis VIII, then that of St. Louis also, shone in the center.®? The propagandistic uses of the arrangement are suggested by the prologue to the short chronicle which Guillaume de Nangis composed for visitors to the abbey. “Because many people, even high and noble men, who often came to the church of my lord St. Denis of France”’ and saw there the tombs of the kings of France, “wanted to know the birth and descent of their very high generacion” and the wonderful things recounted of them, he, at the request of these persons, had translated into French

: the Latin piece he had written earlier “in the form of a family tree of the said kings, so that those who did not understand Latin could know of what noble race and blessed line’ they were descended.

The transfers of 1264 represent the creation of a monumental royal necropolis. ‘he novelty of the work is appreciated when one recalls that most of the older graves at Saint-Denis had been marked only by inscribed slabs, some of which lay beneath the pavement of the church, unseen by—and often unknown to—monks and visitors alike.®' ‘he reinterments and the installation of new, raised tombs were thus not a mere refurbishment of the old grave sites, but a total reworking of the royal cemetery into a form which would publicize the

desired historical and genealogical schematization. ‘This aim is reflected in the symmetry of the pattern: only enough graves were moved

to create two, identical rows. ‘he same motive is suggested by the two translations, when each dynasty was moved in a separate ceremony. Ihe new arrangement of the royal tombs formed a counterpart

in monuments to the prologue to the Grandes Chroniques and to related texts, serving virtually as a family tree. For such a display to have been made, at tremendous expense, the atmosphere must have

, been strongly marked by the dynastic spirit already seen in texts which by themselves were of indeterminate applicability, but whose value now is clearly afirmed. Interpretation of the dynastic phenomenon is necessarily specu-

118 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism lative. The data are incomplete, but certain themes seem to merit more attention than do others. The twelfth-century background, and the prominence given the reditus and other Carolingian motifs in the thirteenth century, establish the importance of Capetian legitimacy. ‘The many uses which this buttress might serve are another matter. It had been evident very early that a new line of kings had risen in place of the Carolingians. ‘The texts do not question the fact, though they rationalize it in varying ways. Here it is necessary to distinguish between two forms of conceptualization: the attribution of royal right to the family and the assumption that the son will inherit, or succeed to, his father’s estate. Contemporaries apparently assumed the simple succession of son to father. This is probably the reason why the majority of the early chroniclers, whatever their verdict on Hugh Capet,

do not seem to have doubted the royal title of Robert II and later kings.®? When, after the accession of Henry I, there was need to explain

the new dynasty, many writers were satisfied to recount the election or ,

usurpation of Hugh and then the succession of his descendants.® ! Certain writers employed other concepts to account for Capetian rule. ‘Two of these are most conspicuous: a blood-right and the divine will.

‘The blood-claim was vague. Raoul Glaber traced the kinship of Hugh : Capet with the Ottonians in order to show the unity of the clans who 3 successively had governed his world. Hints of dynastic embellishment , appeared later—with the names Philip and Louis, for instance. ‘The | fragments of evidence are inconclusive and point in no single direction,

yet from precisely that trait an important point emerges: none of the genealogical explanations tracing the royal title to Carolingian descent, either Hugh Capet’s or a later one through marriage, received any apparent royal sponsorship before the reign of Philip Augustus. ‘The point is sure; whatever the gaps, enough historiography is extant for the claim to be known if it was significant. If the kings thus did not choose to claim Carolingian descent, more stress is placed on the religious sanction of their title. Ihe most important of the myths of this sort was that of St. Valery’s prophecy. ‘This tale appears to have been widely spread, for 1t was taken up by some of the Capetians’ enemies, who interpreted it literally and counted the generations until

the end of the dynasty.® } Weight should be given to these traditions. Many tales are known

to have circulated, but certain of them recur. The version of the reditus presented by Vincent of Beauvais, and repeated after him, is

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 119 indicative. The account has three parts: the pope’s prohibition that a non-Carolingian be made king, the temporary suspension of the curse

as revealed by Sts. Valery and Riquier, and the “return” of the kingdom to a Carolingian in the person of Louis VIII.® It is revealing that all of these elements were already present in royal circles during the reign of Philip Augustus: the papal anathema in Rigord’s Short Chronicle and in the Karolinus, St. Valery’s prophecy in the chancery register, and Carolingian descent through Adela in the Historia regum of ca. 1205. Philip’s descent from Charlemagne was praised in other texts from the time, and evidence from Louis VIII’s reign, particularly the Chronicle of Tours, shows that interest to have been a continuing one.® For these data to lie in the immediate background from which Vincent of Beauvais collected his material would seem to place them in the background of his thought as well. Vincent was not responsible for the combination of elements in the reditus, which had been assembled by Andrew of Marchiennes, but he would have recognized all of them. Their integral adoption into his compilation may indicate that the motif was used to resolve questions already troubling the royal

entourage before 1254. Philip’s Carolingian descent through his mother was deliberately slighted, probably because the schematic focus on Louis VIII was better fitted to the terms of the prophecy.®

, The serious attention paid to this prophecy is suggested by the fact that Carolingian ancestry had not been claimed for any Capetian in a

sustained manner until the expiration of the seven generations. Some will find it unlikely that the quirks of St. Louis’s personality would not have helped form the new stress, but such a thesis 1s unnecessary to explain the occurrence. Influences from noble society which imposed themselves upon the

royalty pushed interest and needs in the same direction. ‘The commanding image of Charlemagne had become the received figure of a ereat king. Concurrently, the anti-Capetian accounts contained in the Historia Francorum of Sens and in Sigebert’s chronicle had been widely diffused, and their effect on aristocratic opinion may have been

considerable.*° Another factor was the genealogical interest of the greater nobility. With the solidification of their own dynasties, and the self-consciousness reflected in the genealogies and histories which were written for them, the standing of the Capetian line necessarily passed under review. Already in the 1090s, Fulk Réchin of Anjou had proudly recalled that his remote ancestor had received his honor from the king

120 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism of France—“not from the family of the impious Philip, but from the issue of Charles the Bald, who was the son of Louis, the son of Charles the Great.”” Dudo of Saint-Quentin and William of Jumieges, whose works were known, had made the Norman dukes equals of Hugh the Great and Hugh Capet.™ ‘The baronial genealogies of the twelfth century, coupled with increased interest in the Carolingians of the epics, were more threatening. Descent from Charlemagne was traced for the counts of Flanders, Hainaut, Namur, and Blois and Champagne, and

for the dukes of Normandy—that is, for most of the greater nobles whose lands bordered those of the king.” Other lines, from whom written histories do not survive, had real or alleged Carolingian descent, and there is reason to believe that they were aware of it. The evidence for a very long genealogical memory is strong. ‘he accuracy of such lore varies: writers who tried to sketch the descent of many families, particularly those of distant regions, made gross errors, but local traditions or those of the families themselves were surprisingly accurate.’? For lack of sources, it is impossible to gauge how many or

which particular persons knew of their Carolingian ancestry. If one takes the few specific attributions and extends them to descendants and collaterals of the persons named, the number is large, and through cadet lines it includes minor lords as well as great ones.“4

‘The appeal which this connection could have is suggested by the care taken by the count of Hainaut to obtain from Sens a copy of the

Pseudo-Turpin, which he guarded until his death, bequeathing it then to his sister, the countess of Saint-Pol; she had a French translation of it made for herself. Another translation was done for Renaud

of Dammartin.”? One notes that some of these persons, while not claimants to the throne, were dangerous opponents to Philip Augustus. Whatever the motivation for their actions, the unflattering comparison between the king’s descent and their own was an element which might contribute to their justification. From within the royal circles, a related impulse is known. Family trees were drawn, and the one which accom-

panied the Karolinus traced the Capetian line only to Robert the Strong. In a society governed by noble dynasties, it was politically intolerable for the royal house to be derived from humbler stock than

were almost all of its important vassals and many of the lesser ones. | The reditus presented by Vincent of Beauvais responded to this situation by setting the king above such comparisons. For Vincent not only traced Carolingian descent for the Capetians; he claimed that

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 12] the accession of Louis VIII had “returned” the kingdom to the Carolingian “dynasty [sttrps or progenies|.” It was thus no longer the line of Hugh Capet that reigned, but that of Charlemagne. Louis VIII 1s shown as the descendant, not simply of Charlemagne, but of the last Carolingian king of France. It is as if that family’s rule had been interrupted for seven generations and then had resumed in the direct line.”® The motif is distinctive in that its key was not the prestige of Carolingian blood, which all earlier Capetians and most of the nobility could have claimed, but rather a legitimist argument of dynastic justification tied peculiarly to the throne. All of these factors could have been operative even without challenge to the Capetian reign as such. Royal power and expansion, not . just maintenance of the title, were tied to ideological forces, of which lineage was one aspect. Slurs against the Capetian house are recorded from the later twelfth and thirteenth centuries; though few in number, they may indicate that others were voiced.” The practical effect of these cannot be measured. One can only speculate as to the possible uses of Carolingian propaganda in the consolidation of the Capetian conquests within France.%®

The importance of Capetian dynasticism as an expression of national sentiment is more clearly discernible. Since, in the absence of ethnic or territorial unity, nationalism meant allegiance to the

| king and crown, exaltation of the royal line was susceptible of conflation with praise of the French people. The specific uses varied.

, Rigord had traced the descent of the French and their kings from Troy, while noting that the Romans had been unable to defeat them and intimating that Gaul had been independent of Roman rule from the time of Marcomirus’ arrival at Paris. In his glorification of Philip, Rigord called him semper Augustus, an imitation of either Carolin-

gian or Staufer emperors and an assertion against the latter.” His treatment of the Trojan line could only buttress such a claim. ‘The author of the Historia regum of ca. 1205, who traced Philip Augustus’

Carolingian descent, stated as his intention the publication of the deeds of the French kings, not Just on a regional scale but in the whole

kingdom; the synchronism with Philip’s conquests is evident. The , prose chronicle of William the Breton begins with the royal genealogy; this version, which insists on Frankish independence from the Roman emperors, was probably written soon after the battle of Bouvines.®° The Philippidos celebrates, among other things, that victory over Otto

122 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism IV and his allies. When Matthew Paris noted the offer of the imperial

crown made in 1239 to St. Louis for his brother Robert, he had the French reply that the king of France ruled by hereditary right and that it was preferable for Robert to be brother to such a king than to be emperor and to owe his crown to election.*! ‘The reputed statement, authentic or not, suggests the image given some observers by the Capetian family and the association of that view with Gallic pride.

By the 1270s, with the redaction of the prologue to the Grandes Chroniques, the royal genealogy was projected as the first of the national honors to be recounted. As an embellishment of claims, even implicit ones, dynasticism served as a medium for the transmission of superior merit and prerogatives, placing the rulers in a continuum which outdated all rivals. Conditioned by the pervasive societal structures of inheritance, now attached to the royalty with considerable fanfare, the concept of descent may be viewed as a mode of thought. As

presented in the prologue to the Grandes Chroniques and in the rearrangement of the tombs at Saint-Denis, the Capetian dynasty, now incorporated into the single kingly lineage which unified the national history, had assumed the form from which it could be glorified as the symbol of France.

Royal Virtue and Holiness Before that exaltation of the Capetian family came into first demon-

strable flowering, another element in the dynastic tradition was de- | veloped: the notion of royal sanctity. Because of the guarded quality of some of the texts, and the limits set by orthodoxy—perhaps even on

internal articulation—the background and elaboration are obscure; so too are many of the implications. Even so, in a series of texts beginning in the last third of the twelfth century terms indicating holiness were used as attributes of royalty. ‘The earliest sure example seen here is the poem on the birth of Philip Augustus, which spoke of the gaudia regia, plena Deo. In 1200, Giles of Paris addressed the living heir as the sancta portio cut from his father’s loins. When Louis VIII was king, William the Breton referred to his gestation as the time he

was the sacrum pondus in his mother’s womb. Around 1230, St. Louis , and his brothers were believed sure to do the good because they had come de saint liu, that is, from “holy” or “pious loins.’’®? It is notable that in every case, except possibly the first, the epithets

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 123 of sanctity pertained to birth, not office. Patent in the last example, and implicit in dynasticism, was the idea that virtue was inherited. This theme was old, and, curiously, some of its earliest explicit attributions to the Capetians are found in letters to them from the popes. In 112], Calixtus IT had lauded the reverence, obedience, and affection toward the Roman Church which the kings of France had left to their

descendants “by a kind of hereditary right’; Louis VI, who was born of that royal line, was successor and heir to their virtues. Eighty years later, Innocent III wrote much the same thing to Philip Augustus, from whom he expected “the constancy of devotion and purity of faith which he [Philip] has drawn from his progenitors as if by heredi-

tary right.” Similar expressions are found in letters from French bishops.®? The thirteenth-century popes granted a series of privileges to the French kings: chapels, then lands, of the king, then of the queen,

could not be Jaid under interdict without authorization from the Holy See; the king, the queen, succeeding kings, then the king’s eldest

} son, could not be excommunicated except by express papal order. Such grants gave occasion for stronger praise of Capetian virtue. In unquallfied terms, St. Louis had succeeded “as legitimate heir, by hereditary

right,” in his ancestors’ devotion to the Roman Church. The genus regium was extolled as “‘a sun of faith, a fire of devotion, a mirror of

, works,” an example to others, a source of “sons of blessing and Joy,” “of aid and favor’ to the church.* In the 1280s, the popes were calling the family the electa domus Francie and the Christianissimum genus of the French king.®°

The prelusive and conditioning qualities for such praise were 1nherent in the monarchical ideal and in the stress on birth with which the aristocracy was embued. Applied to the Capetians, in the course of the thirteenth century it assumed an especially developed form. ‘The process was eclectic, unified, if at all, only in its effects. The phenome-

non is perhaps more revealing in the mentality it reflects than in its specific content.

The birth of Philip Augustus may be taken as a point of departure

for review of the accretive joining of such attributes to the royal

, dynasty. Ihe same spirit is lacking in Suger’s Life of Louis VI, and | Louis VII’s many years without a son gave no opportunity for such stress. When Philip Augustus was born as ‘God-given,’ the line gained an allure which its followers took care to perpetuate. Philip was the reward for his father’s protection of the churches, or given in answer

124 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism to the prayers of the king and people. His birth was miraculous and was accompanied by omens and prophecies: in particular, Louis VII was said to have had before the birth a vision symbolic of his son’s future greatness. Some of these stories were taken over by Vincent of Beauvais and the writers of the Grandes Chroniques.*® In life, Philip was given laudatory epithets: Deodatus and Augustus by Rigord, Fortunatissimus and Magnificus by Giles of Paris, Victoriosus by Stephen of Gallardon, Karolida and Magnanimus by William the Breton; Magnus, Bonus rex, and lt Sages were added later.8” Louis VII's piety was remembered. He appears as piisstmius in Rigord, pis and Christianissimus in Giles of Paris, and vir sanctus in Stephen of Gallardon; but the preferred name for him was the allusive one of Louis “the Pious.’’88 Louis VIII left a brilliant but perhaps less durable

impression; in the traits he represented he was outshone by his father

and son. His conquests were known. There was some hint that he might have been a saint, and many writers recalled his crusade by styl-

ing him “Louis who died at Montpensier,’’ but some later writers called him “Louis, father of St. Louis.”®? St. Louis was the preudhomme or pius during his lifetime; once dead, he was popularly called a saint in some quarters, and certain royal letters cited him as sancte memorve. After his canonization, full advantage was taken of his titles sanctus, beatus, and confessor.®” Philip III suffered by comparison;

occasionally styled le Hardi and sometimes “Philip who died in Aragon,’ more often he was “Philip, son of St. Louis.”®! An isolated attempt from Saint-Denis to make Philip IV into “Philip the Pious”’ failed before the epithet “Fair” by which he had been known during his lifetime.®? Only rarely were all the names assembled, though sometimes this was done, each one with the favorable connotations attached to 1t.°*

This list was not a dry catalogue of heroes. On the contrary, the epithets testify to a tradition of piety and greatness which had been well formed by the time of Philip III. ‘wo elements may be distinguished in the process: the direct link either from father to son or, through the blood, from ancestors to the heir, and the attribution of some of the sacred aspects of kingship to the entire line. In either case,

the selected virtues of individual monarchs, either singly or as parts of a composite aura, enhanced the image of the royalty and the dynasty.

It is debatable whether succession within the family and succession within the office were effectively distinguished in the conceptual back-

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 125 eround; many texts suggest that such lines were not clearly drawn. It is also unclear to what degree an individual was distinguished in either series.°* In any case, partially under the stimulus of dynasticism, the two basic models of legitimacy—the blood-right and worthiness or sanctity—were brought into close association, and sometimes fused, in royalist circles before the end of the thirteenth century.

An illustration of the functioning, indeed dynamics, of the ideal might well precede an examination of particulars. Perhaps the fullest and most authoritative exposition of the familial model is contained in a report from Philip III’s ambassadors at the papal court in 1272 which details the arguments used by Charles of Anjou, brother of St. Louis, to induce Philip III to accept the imperial crown.*® Charles first declared that a king or prince must found his actions on God, doing the service of God and desiring earthly honors for that end alone. If Philip

“paid attention to the deeds of his ancestors, he could not excuse himself from doing the service of God.” Let him consider his father, who had gone two times overseas, and Louis VIII, who had died as a

crusader returning from the Albigeois, and King Philip, who had gone on crusade with King Richard. “He who is of high rank must consider the good deeds of his ancestors and follow them,” although he must not imitate any of their acts which were less praiseworthy. ‘More is expected of the son of a preudhomme than of the son of a bad man.” Recalling advice he had given Philip outside ‘Tunis, imme-

diately after the death of St. Louis, Charles continued: “There I told him overseas that just as his father [St. Louis] had been of greater worth than his [Louis VIII], so must he be worthier than his father,” especially since Philip III was starting with material advantages which his father had not had. Philip’s ancestors had failed on their crusades because France was “‘only one kingdom.” Philip should therefore become emperor as well, so as to have the forces necessary to do God’s service on a successful crusade.

Charles's motives are suspect. His mode of thought, or at least of articulation, is not.°® The problem of sincerity has been much discussed because of analogous, and other, statements from the circles of Philip the Fair; scholars now tend increasingly to credit these expressions.”” Charles knew well that any falsehood in his remarks would

be discerned; it is thus unlikely that the thrust of his statement was insincere. In his thinking, the obligation to do the service of God | which kingship imposed on the monarch was exemplified in the case of

126 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism Philip III by the deeds of the king’s ancestors, which Philip was required to emulate and surpass. ‘The model given is the direct comparison of son to father, informed by the ancestral past. One of high birth,

especially the son of a preudhomme, could not escape the demands thus made, and, whatever the larger interpretation, the channel by which the ideal was brought to Philip HI, and by which he would be judged, was part and parcel of his familial inheritance. What would Charles of Anjou have said about the other members of his family? No comprehensive statement is known, but in 1280, when testifying in favor of the canonization of Louis IX, Charles suggested that his mother and his other brothers might have been saints, too. Shortly before her death, Blanche had gone to the abbey of Maubuisson, which she had founded, and there she had taken the

religious habit, declaring it her intention to remain a nun there whether or not she died—““Whence,” Charles deposed, “the holy root put forth holy branches, not only the holy king, but also the Count of Artois, a glorious martyr, and the Count of Poitiers,” For Robert of Artois had died for the exaltation of the Christian faith, and Alfonse of Poitiers, who had died of the plague before Tunis, was “a martyr by desire.’’®®

Charles’s deposition, unique in its claims yet of unquestioned authenticity, is typical of the state of evidence on the present topic. ‘The history of the accretion of religious qualities to the royalty is a mass of

fragmentary data. One cannot look for a systematic exposition of royalist or popular associations of diverse source and varying ortho-

doxy. That such things were written down is proof that they were uttered and heard, and there are many indications of others which were not recorded. Even extravagant claims which few persons may have accepted literally would have had the effect of making less dramatic assertions more credible. ‘These views, which informed segments

of the public and some members of the kings’ circles, are part of the royalty as 1t was perceived by contemporaries. ‘That there was no unanimity of opinion does not alter this fact. A number of common themes are introduced by statements made about Louis VIII during the time he was heir to the throne. Among

these are the notion of begotten virtue, the image of the prince as monarch of the Last ‘Times, praise of his lineage, and praise of his religious qualities, in particular his chastity.®°

In 1200, Giles of Paris had written to Louis, praising his descent,

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 127 celebrating the deeds of Charlemagne and urging their imitation, calling for ‘“‘good fruit’ from the ‘“‘good tree.”1°° Nicholas of Brai, who

composed his verse Gesta Ludovici VIII at some time between 1228 and 1248, attributed Louis’s virtue to his birth: ““The Royal Majesty shines with paternal virtus,’ he said, later addressing his subject as “Good King, illustrious offspring of Philip, worthy of your father,” and again as “Illustrious King of kings, Louis, warlike offspring of King Philip, whose famous virtus shines.’’'°! At the end of the century, a work written on St. Louis began with praise of his father: “There

was in our times a rex Christianissimus named Louis, a linear descendant of the royal stirps of the French.” And “since the good tree bears good fruit”—the writer named the virtues of Louis VIII: his knowledge of sacred things (veritatis saptentia), his justice, his piety—

the son born by divine grace to his most noble wife was “successor both to the paternal merits and to his piety of faith."1 The notion of the prince as monarch of the Last Times is related to the eschatological myths of the empire. Such ideas had circulated in France already in the time of Louis VII. The theme was given a different twist by William the Goldsmith, leader of the heretical Amal-

rican sect, speaking in Paris at undetermined dates between 1197 and 1205. William prophesied that the Last ‘Times would come within

| five years. The populus, then the principes, then the burgesses, then the prelates of the church, would perish; the pope was Antichrist. Allegedly to win royal favor, William added that “‘all kingdoms would be subject to the king of the French and his son .. . and he would not die, and the twelve loaves, that is wisdom of the scriptures and power, would be given to the king of the French.’’!°? William the Goldsmith and his followers were burned by royal order in 1210, but an idea re-

lated to theirs appears in the Sibylline prophecy which Stephen of Gallardon entered into a royal chancery register. In this version, it was a ‘“salicus rex of France named K.,” thus probably a Carolingian and a descendant of Philip, who would figure at the Last Times. The same theme appears later in prophecies supporting Charles of Anjou’s claims in Italy; this time the ruler was explicitly a Carolingian—“of the stzrps of King Charles and of the house of the kings of France’’— and was named Charles.1 It is unsure whether eschatological overtones were included in the

, glorification of the king’s conquests or whether such praise was simply nationalistic. ‘The idea appeared early that Louis VIII should rule

128 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism more than one kingdom. Gerald of Wales urged Louis’s candidacy for

the English throne, extolling the superiority of his personal virtue and that of his ancestors over the bestial Plantagenets. William the Breton raised the conquests he wished to see to the level of Louis’s destiny as revealed by God to Isabella of Hainaut. William the Breton is especially suggestive when he urges the French barons onward to

conquest with the prince: he styles them magnanimi, a term which elsewhere he applied to Philip Augustus, and calls them “born to the Trojan stirps, illustrious race of the French, co-heirs of Charles and of mighty Roland and brave Oliver.”'? When Louis campaigned, some writers thought he was already king.1% Nicholas of Brai added religious strands derived from indigenous tradition and from crusad-

ing thought. The product is remarkable, since Louis’s wars are not depicted expressly as wars of the cross. Philip and Louis are “Kings of the kings of the world”; Louis need not fear the empire, for the emperor and imperial deeds yield to him. Furthermore, it is fas and honestum to die for lord and fatherland and Christ—here in Louis’s wars—and not real death. “God fights for the king” and “curbs his enemies.”!°* A chronicler writing in the vernacular for the lord of Flagi, castellan of Sens, probably between 1227 and 1240, glorified both recent kings: had Louis VIII not died, there would have been no king of France since Charlemagne, except Philip his father, who had performed such great deeds as he; Louis had suffered at Avignon for God’s name and faith; he was a martyr; he and Philip had ruled in the manner of the martyrs, esteeming nothing that was “against the service of God.’’1%

Philip’s victories, too, were enhanced. Stephen of Gallardon had

called Philip “victorious through the grace of God.’ William the Breton showed him blessing his troops. Around 1260, the Ménestral

of Reims had Philip administer a type of sacramental meal to his barons before the battle of Bouvines, bidding them join him “in remembrance of the ‘Iwelve Apostles who drank and ate with Our Lord Jesus Christ.” ‘Che king asked that no one “who is thinking malice

or treachery” should approach the table. There was no Judas in the tale, and the army triumphed.'®® One may suspect that great victory was itself considered a sign of divine favor and that such an outlook was more widely held than the texts expressly state, but caution is required in that regard.!!° Other writers gave religious sanctions in different terms, as French wars tended to become absorbed into the

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 129 crusades. William of Puy-Laurent, writing in the early-1270s and of the Albigensian campaigns, styled Louis VIII “‘benedictus Rex a Deo” and St. Louis “‘servus Dei rex Francie benedictus.’’!11 In 1273, Charles

of Anjou cited his brother, father, and grandfather as kings who had served God by their reigns. Later writers were fond of recalling the heroic deaths of these kings. Even Philip III was made to have died in the service of God and Holy Church.""? During the same period, saintly qualities were attributed to all the recent kings. ‘hat the monarch stood in special relation to God, that he was anointed with oil from Heaven, that God might intervene in his acts or confer miraculous gifts—these were very old ideas. Perhaps al-

ready in the 1190s, but plainly in the 1220s, a different motif appears:

the dead king is either a saint or, at the least, a man of signal piety. This phenomenon does not appear ex nihilo, but it shows a force and a sequel which imply a new stress, and it is unlike some conspicuous precedents. Little was known about Henry I; Suger’s scathing characterization of Philip I had entered the historiography of Saint-Denis; and, to die a holy death, Louis VI had divested himself of terrestrial monarchy to become a monk.'!? Philip Augustus, by contrast, died as king. In the literature, his death was announced by the appearance of comets; miracles were associated with his remains; tales of his miraculous appearances with St. Denis circulated. Some of these stories were widely known.''* There seems to have been no sequel to William

the Breton’s wish to make him a saint; his reputation was more that of a conqueror and justiciar."® Louis VIII was called a saint, though rarely. He was much praised for his private morals. Gerald of Wales, already, had lauded the prince’s continence: during his campaign in England, the barons had seen Louis away from his wife and had offered

him a young woman for his bed; he had refused her.116 Vincent of Beauvais praised him as “indubitably Catholic and of marvelous sanctity and noted his chastity.'"? The religious virtue of chastity was systematically attributed to the kings: it was ascribed to Louis VII in one of his epitaphs and by Gerald of Wales, repeated for Louis VIII, elaborated for St. Louis, applied also to Philip II]I—all as a sign of Capetian merit and in contrast to the morals of unspecified others.1"8 As time went on, the accounts became increasingly circumstantial. It was finally recorded of Louis VIII that he had died because he had sent away the young woman whom his barons had put into his bed at Montpensier, copulation with whom would have cured him. He pre-

} 130 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism ferred to die rather than to sin; he ordered instead that the woman be furnished a dowry and married." St. Louis had not only been loyal to his wife: he had also been chaste before marriage, and later he and

his queen agreed to abstain from intercourse during Advent and Lent; his first biographer described him as leaping from bed and pacing the floor to overcome sexual impulses during such times.!?° Philip III’s biographer wrote how his subject had worn a hairshirt and fasted to tame his body after the death of his first wife.!?? Such things could not be said about Philip Augustus, but he was remembered for his justice and other virtues; he had ‘made Christ his heir’ by his testament and had been ‘‘Catholic in faith,” “defender of the church,” and “nourisher of the poor.’’!?? In some texts, the personalities of Philip Augustus and Louis VIII were depicted as contrasting types—the father the more shrewd, the son the more devout, but both of them orthodox and good men. Between the two of them, every virtue was represented.1!78

One significance of this list is its cumulative effect on the characterization of the dynasty. By the mid-thirteenth century, these were the only recent kings of France of whom many people had heard— mistakes abound in references to earlier ones—and so these Capetians with their honorable titles might easily symbolize almost all the postCarolingian national history that was known.!*4 This aspect of timelessness is extremely important; it is part of the background for the

claims under Philip the Fair that the precedents cited then had “always” been so. Proper worth must be given to the virtues claimed for the Capetians. The image projected of them was not mere hagiography; it was drawn from the ideals of kingship and of Christian chivalry. Both ideals were shaped by the call to godly service, and they demanded blameless life

of the individual. Both king and knight were to serve God in all that they did, to defend the church, promote justice, put down wrongdoing, protect the poor; piety, observance of good faith, avoidance of all sin were required of them. Chastity was often stressed, in part be-

cause sexual license was the antithesis of the life of commitment desired from the orders.!2° There was surely a gap between this doc- , trine, as taught by the clergy, and the actual behavior of the aristocracy,

but by the mid-thirteenth century the discrepancy was more one of practice than of values. Joinville and others give evidence of lay acceptance of the religious ideal of knighthood.!?* The need for the same virtues in the monarch was even greater. The king was himself a

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 13] knight, and he shared the knightly code, but in addition it was taught that he had special ethical responsibilities. The example of his morals was followed by the people. He must be a “mirror” to them; he must not lead them into a spiritual Egypt of sin.!27 The people might be punished for the sins of their king; conversely, the king might be punished for the sins of his people. And there was the terrifying biblical threat that the son or descendants of a bad king would lose the kingdom, that God would give it to others, as He had done with kingdoms in the past.'?8 From this perspective, the proclamations of Capetian virtue are not mere eulogies but rather proofs of the merit and legitimacy of the dynasty which was composed of so many “true” kings. ‘The shared traits of the royal and chivalric ideals suggest a community of values giving substance and context to the royalist expressions.

Special religious associations are recorded for individual kings or

for the royalty. The most important was the power of the “royal touch” to cure scrofula. Marc Bloch found healing powers ascribed to Robert I, Philip I, and Louis VI, but no subsequent mention until the 1240s, when they were noted for St. Louis. Since these last references seemed apologetic or hesitant—and did not yet say, as later sources would, that St. Louis’s predecessors had also “touched’’—Bloch

hypothesized that, while the practice had not fallen into disuse during the interim, the silence of the texts in this regard was perhaps attri-

butable to deference to Gregorian ideas. From the 1240s onward, however, the king was again said to heal by the “touch” and the performance of this “miracle” was positively proclaimed for later kings.’*® In theory, the thaumaturgic power was conferred by the royal anointment. In practice, a genealogical series of kings had “touched,” and one may speculate at will about contemporary attitudes toward the known fact. Several texts from around 1300 either blur or ignore the distinction between office and descent in this regard.1%°

Another theme—of undetermined importance and still to be traced

—is the relation between the popular aspect of the royalty and the increasingly evident national sentiment of France as a “kingdom . blessed by the Lord,” the seat of true and fervent religion, of learning and great deeds, preeminent among kingdoms.!*! These views are now known primarily from royalist and papal statements, from which it is clear that certain beatific attributes were transferred from the king to the kingdom. It is sure, however, that such ideas moved in at least two

directions. For example, the French nation was identified with the

132 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism crusades before the Capetians were; similarly, heroes killed in the fighting were popularly honored as saints before the death of Louis VIII." In the growth of nationalism, part of the basis for which was inevitably religious, there are sure indications of interaction and exchange between the royalist and popular orientations. ‘The form in which these aspirations were expressed is often remarkable. Such, for

instance, were some of the earlier manifestations that the king of France was not subject to the emperor: the king appears as the vassal of God or of St. Denis, paying the saint a head-tax in symbolic gold, as St. Louis is known to have done.'*? The peculiar observances recorded for St. Louis were seldom transmittable by heredity, but the aura thus created was part of his legacy. Another indication, significant because of the number of persons who would have seen it, 1s the evidence of the thirteenth-century royal tombs. Those of the three great kings—Philip Augustus, Louis VIII, and St. Louis—were monuments of gold and silver. ‘The care and wealth spent on the tombs at Saint-Denis, and the notice of them in the sources, testify to their importance. Contemporary impressions should be imagined. It was recalled that Philip Augustus had been buried with great pomp. Because of the simultaneous meeting of a

council at Paris, an unusually large number of bishops and lords attended the funeral. There the king’s body had lain, under cloth of gold, invested with the regalia. The tomb erected later was described: the king’s image was sculptured on it in precious metal, with figures

of bishops in a row around the sides below. Louis VIII's tomb, also of gold and silver, stood beside his. Later, a tomb of the same materials was erected beside theirs over the grave of St. Louis.'** ‘The sight—

first of the great Philip entombed in precious metal and attended by bishops; then of the two monarchs, the second also a conqueror and a possible saint; then of the three kings together, placed between the two altars at a spot hallowed by the miracles at St. Louis's tomb—

would have been evocative both of the recent glories and of the dynastic past. The associations of Saint-Denis—its history and splendid relics and the mystical quality of the royal necropolis—are to be noted.

So, too, are the particular images. The most nearly similar model suggested by the golden boxes above the honored remains may well have been so many shrines or reliquaries; there was perhaps no more likely comparison. One can only speculate about the connotations of so much gold, and especially of effigies carved in precious metal, but some religious or quasi-religious associations to them are almost cer-

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 133 tain. The impression was heightened by the rows of ancestral tombs

on either side, which were of painted stone, gold and silver being reserved for the modern heroes, for whom, also, sanctity or holy attributes had been claimed. The combination of elements provides the setting for, and bespeaks, a veneration for the dead rulers which

contained sacred qualities. The number of pilgrims to St. Louis’s erave is assurance that the spectacle was seen.18° Some extension of religious awe to the living monarch, the blood-descendant of these,

may be presumed. The effects of this pageantry are not rigorously demonstrable, but neither, by their nature, are the emotional responses and associations which fed a royal cult which is known to have been strong. Even at the time, feelings would have varied with the in-

dividual observer, so no single interpretation of them can be generalized without distortion, but an essential aspect of the royalty 1s missed if these factors are not evoked.

Dynasticism and the Royal Mystique in the Time of Philip the Fair Around 1280, writing from milieux stamped by this background and after Philip III had begun to press for the canonization of his father, Giles of Rome dedicated his De regimine principum to his pupil, the future Philip the Fair. He addressed the prince as “his spe-

cial lord, the Lord Philip . . . sprung ex regia ac sanctissima prosapia.”'?6 In 1285, this Philip became king. One of the first acts of his reign, conveyed by the ambassadors who were to congratulate the new pope on his election and to discuss with him matters “useful to the house of France and to the Holy Roman Church,” was the request that the pontiff speed “the affair of the canonization of the Lord King Louis of holy memory.’’'?? These terms from the envoys’ instructions

are characteristic of the stress and the religious allure which were given to the French dynasty in many documents from the reign of Philip the Fair. I am unfamiliar with the texts from the chancery of Philip HI, but those of Philip IV contrast markedly with usage under Philip Augustus or St. Louis in the pronounced emphasis which they place on the royal ancestors. ‘This stress is apparent in the most important documents and in times of crisis and confrontation. If, as recent studies forcefully argue, policy during the reign was directed by Philip himself, it is difficult to imagine that he did not know and approve when such statements were issued by his chief ministers.1°8 The king’s forebears are invoked in numerous texts from the chancery and

134 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism the royal circles. Missives addressed to the king—some flattering, others in protest—call the prior kings Christianissimi or even sancti.1®9

There are many signs of a heightened religiosity in views of the kingdom and the dynasty.1*°

The personality of Philip IV is little known but has been much debated. He has often been seen as overweeningly confident in his ageressive advancement of monarchical power. The latest hypothesis, however, finds strong evidence of insecurity in his behavior and apparent attitudes.'*! ‘The peculiar twists given to dynastic glorification during his reign accord substantially with the latter view. Philip may never have heard the reasons alleged by Charles of Anjou in urging the imperial candidacy on Philip III, but a familial ideal similar to the one which Charles expressed would have figured prominently in the prince’s education. The original notion was modified, because it was

soon obvious that Louis IX would probably be named a saint. The newer, perhaps inchoate, view would have resembled more nearly the one expressed later by Joinville: that the canonization of St. Louis had brought “great honor to all those of his lineage who will learn from him to do the good and great dishonor to all those of his family who

will not follow him by good works.” Joinville insisted on the latter point, for people would say that the holy king would have condemned “such wickedness.’’!4?

There was glory for the family, but the criticism started almost at once. Philip III was “a young man and did not love the church as his father did,” wrote a monk at Limoges. A chronicler at Saint-Magloire

at Paris praised earlier kings but said that Philip III’s crusade to Aragon was “‘a mad quest.’’'4? As his reputation grew, St. Louis be-

came a symbol of better practice used to reproach current abuses. As early as 1294, the bishop of Angers addressed grievances to Philip IV in such terms. ‘The king should “give peace to the churches and to the ministers of the church.” The bishop continued: Let him preserve to the churches their liberties and ancient customs as they were observed under the Blessed Louis, his grandfather, and the princes preceding him, the most Christian Kings of the French. Those sacratissimi principes endowed the

churches. .. . Let the Lord King, therefore, in the manner of his ancestors, be devout and humble to God and the church.!44

Later, after the canonization, another quarrel broke out between the | king and the same church, and Philip was asked to maintain the

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 135 liberties and customs of that church “‘as they had been observed in the times of his predecessors, and most of all in the days of the Most Blessed Louis, his grandfather.’’!#> Since this dispute had already led to the excommunication of the king’s own officials, the text should be read

very strongly. Then another rebuke came from the bishop. Reading Philip a lesson on just rule, the prelate reminded him ominously of the distinction between a true king and a tyrant. He enjoined: “A wise and noble king, especially one descended from a prosapia of sancti progenitores, should therefore not believe those who give the bad counsel of making heavier the yoke upon the people and the churches, lest God, to Whom nothing is impossible . . . transfer or divide his kingdom.’'#® Complaints about the coinage, slurs from Boniface VIII, protests against taxation, took similar form, if usually in less threatening language."*"

A corresponding pattern emerges from the royal texts. St. Louis was cited as a special patron of the kingdom.1#8 Philip IV seems almost

to invoke his ancestors at every turn. A subtle change in stress is implied by the chancery language: former kings increasingly are expressly styled progenitores, rather than the vaguer predecessores or antecessores.‘*° The statements are couched in the terms of customary precedent, but the tone is new. Philip IV appears as the hereditary

: Holy King. Some of the claims were issued in his own name; others came, with varying authority, from his circle. In the first complaint against Bernard Saisset, Philip and his progenitors were said “always to have been the special defenders of the faith and of the honor of the Roman Church.”?°° As the dispute with Boniface VIII loomed larger, St. Louis and the Christianissimt kings or the domus regia were invoked by both sides.1*? In March 1303, when Nogaret formally denounced Boniface to Philip, he declared that “following the footsteps of your progenitors, you must

liberate our mother, the Roman Church.” Pierre Dubois composed a memoir in which he urged Philip, “by inheritance the defender of the faith,” to bring the pope to trial as a heretic; this action, he said, would bring honor to the king, his ancestors, and his descendants. . When, in June 1303, Philip publicly agreed to proceed against Boniface, he claimed, according to the official record, to be doing so in imitation of the examples of his forebears, “who did not hesitate in the least to pour out their own blood for the exaltation and defense of ecclesiastical liberty and the faith.’”’?°?

136 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism Similar ideas were reiterated then and in the long sequel. “Our royal house has always been the directrix veritatis,” said the king in 1303; he repeated the claim in a letter to Pope Clement V in 1310.1% The author of the tract Rex pacificus praised the kings of France as Christi semper fideles Ecclesiae, citing as recent examples the king’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, who had died in the service or defense of the church.1°* When Philip moved against the ‘Templars,

a convocation for deputies to the assembly at ‘Tours, composed by Nogaret, began with the postulate: “Our progenitors, more than other princes of their times, were always most zealous in expelling heresies and other errors from the church of God and especially from the king-

dom of France, defending the most precious pearl of the Catholic faith as an incomparable treasure from thieves and robbers.” ‘The king

would act, therefore, “giving heed to the rock from which we have been hewn, adhering to the tracks of our progenitors.’ Another convocation, sent at the same time to clergy and some counts, proclaimed the king’s “defense of the faith” in the same terms.'®> Asked for their

opinion, the masters of theology at the University of Paris replied that from the beginnings of the kingdom the illustrissemt regni Francorum reges Christianissimi had shone more “for the beauty of their morals and the piety of the Christian religion” than for their

power; Philip, they said, was moved in his actions by zeal for the 2 faith, “imitating the laudable mores of your sancti predecessors.”1°° Guillaume de Plaisians, speaking before the pope at the consistory of Poitiers in 1308, said much the same thing, adding to the citation of precedent the claim that the king of France was “in his kingdom temporal vicar of the said King Jesus Christ.’’157 ‘These statements were not exceptional. Writing in 1312 to Emperor

Henry VII, during their dispute over Lyons, Philip extolled the virtue of France and its special relation to God, affirming his determination to defend its liberties ‘“‘with the aid of Him for Whose faith and name our progenitors are proclaimed to have shed their own blood.’’!5® Pierre Dubois concluded that descent from Charlemagne gave Philip the right to the collation of prebends and to profits from the safeguard

of churches because of a concession to Charles by Pope Hadrian I, . and he even suggested that this descent gave the king a kind of suzerainty over Spain which St. Louis was alleged to have given in dowry to his daughter, Blanche.'*® Christological attributes were added: only France was “free, the kingdom of the franci,” thus a type

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 137 of the heavenly Jerusalem; the “heir to France’’ was the Son of David, because the name David meant manu fortis and the king’s hand was

strong in the miraculous cure of scrofula; the royal war banner was like that of the Christ of the Second Coming, here a symbol of the king’s anger; in like manner, just as the flower or lily was a symbol of the First Coming of Christ, so was the royal banner with the fleurs-de-

lis a sign of “the king’s peace and mercy.’’® The last example is revealing because of the history of the fleur-de-lis: first used as a per-

sonal emblem by Louis VII, the lily was the symbol only of the Capetian line in the early thirteenth century, when it was drawn above their family tree in the Paris manuscript of the Karolinus; later in the century, it designated all the kings, and by extension France, and with this connotation it was given allegorical interpretation by Guillaume de Nangis.'® This exaltation was bound to the dynasty. One very clear text in

this regard is an anonymous sermon preached in Paris during the Flemish war of 1303. Here the nobiles et sancti reges Francorum are called sancti “because they greatly esteem holiness, they protect hollness, they beget holiness, they proclaim holiness.” ‘They esteem hol1-

ness by esteeming purity, which is “a kind of holiness,’ for while other lineages have been tainted by bastards, “the blood of the kings of France has remained most pure’ since the time of Priam. ‘They protect holiness, for “they have protected the church, have founded monasteries, and have always advanced holiness.” ‘They beget holiness, because “they have begotten sanctos reges,”’ the examples of whom are

Clovis, Childerich III, Charlemagne, and St. Louis. ‘They proclaim holiness, because “these kings alone, while alive, perform miracles” by healing.?©

‘This preacher went further in his claims than did others. His meaning is somewhat obscure, because his terms can be read as calling the

kings saints. "he usage in other texts, however, argues against that reading. One such text calls the kings sacratisstmi as a synonym for Christianissim1; others speak of their benedictum semen or benereuseé lignée; others use sanctus to mean no more than “‘devout.” In general,

and probably in this case, one should render sancti reges simply as “holy kings.’’16

‘The implications of the terms are often vague. For example, it 1s the heres Francie who is the Son of David, or par herege that Philip IV is defender of the faith, both terms implying blood-descent though not

138 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism placing sanctity expressly in the blood.'®* Other texts compile to the king’s glory a series of ideas whose internal contradictions are not resolved. Such is the Quaestio in utramque partem, which was suffh-

ciently well regarded in royal circles to be copied into one of the chancery registers. ‘his work includes the remark that the king of France, who by his touch works “manifest miracles’ of healing, can say to his detractors, as Christ did to His, “If you will not believe me, believe my works.” “For just as by hereditary right the son succeeds the father in adoptionem regni, so by the workings of God does the one succeed the other, as if by hereditary right, in the similar power of working such miracles.’’'® The expressions are eccentric: the thaumaturgic power was usually thought to be conferred by the anointment at Reims, and the adoptio regni was a theological concept apparently

derived from that of the adoption of men into the Kingdom of God as His sons with Christ, thus rather oddly imputed here to inheritance and not to consecration. Adeptio would have been the term more commonly used for simple succession to the office, but both the chancery copy and another, probably independent, manuscript give adoptio.'8° Additional examples could be cited for every point made here.1&7

‘There are some hints that relatively simple motives underlay this proliferation. ‘Two examples will illustrate the point. In 1301 a large

dossier was compiled to document the charges of treason brought against Bernard Saisset, bishop of Pamiers. ‘The accusations included conspiracy, denial of royal jurisdiction in his territory, and slanders against the king. ‘hey also contained allegations of a dynastic nature. Saisset was accused of saying that St. Louis had predicted to Philip II that the kingdom or the dynasty would end in the time of the present ruler; some eighteen witnesses gave versions of this charge. The longer

accounts indicate that the idea was derived from the legend of St. Valery, though here it was in the tenth generation that the magna mutatio was to occur. ‘here was a chance that the line might endure, if the king was “holy and good and just,’”’ which by implication Philip IV was alleged not to be.'®® Other charges brought by some of the same witnesses were that Saisset had denied Philip's descent from Charle-

magne, that he had said that Philip was not de recto genere Regum Francorum and was descended through his mother from bastards, because all from the royal house of Aragon were spuriz.1® “There is a close correlation between the claims made from the royal circles and

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 139 the calumnies imputed to Bernard Saisset. For present purposes it is irrelevant whether the statements originated with Saisset or with the royal lawyers. Clearly, the dynastic and genealogical issues were taken very seriously.

These texts may be compared with one drawn from a memoir composed by Nogaret and Plaisians during the prolonged aftermath to the

assault at Anagni. The piece contains an extraordinary portrait of Philip IV. “The Lord King was born of the progenies of the kings of the French, all of whom, from the time of King Pippin, from whose stock the said King is known to descend, have been religious, zealous fighters for the faith, and strong defenders of Holy Mother, the Roman Church.” They have ejected schismatics who had occupied the church, and none with greater cause than this king. Philip’s virtues are enumerated: he had been chaste both before and after marriage; he was humble, modest in speech and company, never angry, hating no one, envying no one, loving everyone, full of grace, charitable, pious, merci-

ful, seeking truth and justice, never defamatory, fervent in faith, religious in life, building churches and doing pious works, of handsome appearance, courteous even to his enemies when they were in his presence, performing miracles of healing which God effected by his hand.!*° Many of the claims are credible; others are exaggerated. One is struck, however, by the remarkable assemblage of data which were

thought relevant to the vindication of Philip’s struggle with Bon1face VIII. Two motifs emerge most conspicuously from these texts: the image

of Philip IV as king by right of direct royal descent, and that of him as an irreproachable Christian. The documents of his reign, the hagiography of St. Louis, and the older chronicles are mutually corroborative that both attributes were Philip’s heritage from his predecessors.

The citation of ancestral precedent as the basis for his actions is paralleled by the elaboration of a new genre in Capetian historiography, that of history as a speculum furnishing examples to the king from his family’s past. Perhaps the first text which so declares itself is the Grandes Chroniques, which express this aim in both the prologue

| and the dedicatory verses to Philip III.17 Earlier adumbrations are known, but they are neither so clear nor so comprehensive as this one.?” The most explicit spokesman for this conception of a history is perhaps Guillaume de Nangis. Probably in 1286, Guillaume dedicated

his short Latin chronicle of the French kings to Philip IV, stating

140 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism that the work was presented “both for living and for reading” so that Philip might know the praiseworthy deeds of his predecessors and have them always before his eyes “‘like a mirror for a model of virtue”’;

thus he will know that he has “‘true descent” from the exalted and famous Trojan line. ‘To make the point more clearly, the manuscript included a number of family trees illustrating each step of the descent.'” ‘The prologue to Guillaume’s Lives of St. Louis and Philip I] repeated these ideas. St. Louis and Philip III were praised individually. ‘Then Guillaume cited the value of parental example to the son. The ancient Romans, he noted, kept busts of their ancestors in

their homes lest they degenerate from the older virtues. He then enjoined that this speculum be used “for living as well as for reading”’

and that the king have before him the examples of his father and erandfather and “rejoice in the Lord that [he is] descended from such good and praiseworthy blood.’!% One would wish for evidence by which to place the king personally with respect to such ideas. ‘There is no reason to doubt that he shared the outlook of his circles, but it is difficult to substantiate either this or a contrary assumption. It can probably be assumed that Philip IV knew at least the rudiments of French history: his own literacy, the

uses of history by his spokesmen, his later request to the abbot of Saint-Denis for a new chronicle, all imply that conclusion; and St. Louis is known to have discoursed to his children on history.'% Whether Philip actually read the works presented to him by Guillaume de Nangis is not known, though the obvious interest of the Lives of his father and grandfather may suggest that he did. Furthermore, the ideas expressed in the prologues to these works are so similar

to some of the ones which obtained in royal circles and have such a platitudinal character that it seems likely that the king would have known them from a variety of sources.'"* It yet remains that only a few

words actually uttered by Philip are known, and his views must be sought indirectly. His apparent responsibility for the conduct of his reign creates a general context from which his direction or approval of statements may be inferred but not proved. A few fragments of data,

eloquently symbolic, can be attributed to him, and some deductions 7 can safely be made from these.

The cult of St. Louis is linked to Philip personally. Many of the royal statements concerning St. Louis could be explained by considera-

tions of policy as well as genuine belief; so too could some actions.

‘The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 14] The burden of evidence argues against making a sharp distinction between the two kinds of motivation. What is known of the individual

heures forbids a thesis of bald politics. On the contrary, the canonization of Louis IX was overdue, and Philip should have hastened to honor his grandfather. The public display of familial piety—as when the king and princes played conspicuous roles in the ceremonious elevation of St. Louis’s remains after his canonization—is symptomatic.

Joinville, who was present for the occasion, gives no hint of having found the scene other than proper and devout.'7* The same may be said about Philip’s foundation of the church of Saint-Louis at Poissy, his grandfather’s birthplace. The actual construction was begun no later than three months after the bull of canonization was published in France, and this speed suggests that plans for the building had

been drawn in anticipation. For the remainder of his life, Philip endowed and favored this church. In 1308, his cadet son Robert was

interred there. By testament Philip ordered that his own heart be buried there, also.!78

Another sign is the honor paid to the relics of St. Louis. Most of them were left at Saint-Denis, and Boniface VIII granted indulgences to pilgrims who went there to venerate them; but the pope had empowered the king to do as he wished with the bones, and Philip proceeded to exercise this authority. He had the skull placed solemnly in the Sainte-Chapelle, and a rib in Notre-Dame at Paris; other relics were taken to Poissy and elsewhere.'® One may assume Philip’s personal command in these cases and in others, as, for instance, when at his expense a reliquary containing one of St. Louis’s fingers and a thorn from the Holy Crown was commissioned for presentation to the king of Norway.'®° Other dimensions are suggested by fragments of infor-

mation from the royal household: it was at the request of Philip’s queen that Joinville composed his memoirs of St. Louis, and the king himself had inherited “St. Louis’s gold cup, from which one does not

drink.’''8! ‘The cult of St. Louis flourished also in Capetian family circles, through pious works and donations and by titularies and effigies which recalled the members’ kinship with the saint.18? These relatives acquired relics of St. Louis and treasured heirlooms which had belonged to him. Philip IV had to be affected by this atmosphere. Indeed, he contributed to such feelings on the part of his kinsmen by having statues of his grandparents and of six of their children placed in the church of Saint-Louis at Poissy.18¢ The statues of St. Louis

142 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism and of his wife stood in the north transept opposite those of their children in the southern one; with the parents shown as adults and their offspring as children, the natural family was represented; they were

all portrayed in royal dress. The church was thus not only a shrine to the royal saint, but by extension a monument to his family as well. The aspect of comparison, and sometimes reproach, can also be attached to the king. He heard his ministers invoke his grandfather and other ancestors in speeches delivered in his presence, just as he heard complaints which cited the same names to a different purpose. To an indeterminate degree, the comparisons figured also on a personal level. Joinville, for instance, told him that he dressed too richly and that it would be better to dress simply, as St. Louis had done, spending the money thus saved on the works of God.1®°

Philip IV is also associated with the theme of Carolingian descent. Ideas not otherwise authoritatively expressed are reflected in another rearrangement of the royal tombs at Saint-Denis. In 1271, when St. Louis was buried in the central portion of the choir beside his father and grandfather, the bones of Isabella of Aragon and of John ‘Tristan of Nevers, wife and brother of Philip III, had been placed in adjoining tombs parallel and very close to that of St. Louis, with John Tristan on the side closer to Louis. Since St. Louis’s chamberlain, Pierre de

Beaucaire, was interred at his master’s feet, and Louis’s daughter Margaret, duchess of Brabant, was also buried near her father, that part of the choir was becoming full.18® Early in 1285, shortly before

Philip III’s departure for Aragon, the bones of John ‘Tristan and Margaret of Brabant were moved to a space near St. Louis’s feet. This shift may be seen as the preparation of a burial site for Philip ITI,

for when he died he was interred in a grave near his father’s and adjoining that of Isabella, that is, in the space opened by the transfer of the other graves.'8” ‘The tombs remained in this formation until 1306, when, at the king’s command, another shift was made. Carloman and Irmentrude were moved to the end of the row of Capetian tombs on the other side of the choir, Pippin and Bertrada moved forward in

the Carolingian column, and Philip III and Isabella inserted in their place. At the same time, Philip IV directed that he should eventually be buried at the former site of his father’s grave, which lay beside the new location of his parents’ tombs.18®

These shifts in the royal necropolis are evidence of familial selfconsciousness. Interpretation is delicate, but certain effects are patent

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 143 in the new ordering. Philip IV and his parents were placed in the Carolingian column, as if to advertise their descent from that line. This reading is confirmed by the general ensemble of the tombs, which recurrently were arranged in family groups.18° The tombs of

Philip IV and his parents remained close to that of St. Louis, but proximity to him was not the sole consideration, and perhaps not the chief one, for Philip IV was buried immediately beside his father, some

distance from St. Louis. If the immediate family group had been the criterion, Philip IV could have made room for himself at the head or feet of either his father or grandfather by moving any of the less distinguished graves which were already there. Instead, the new scheme combined every benefit: it made Philip IV and his father Carolingians, interred the son beside his father, and at the same time left only a small

space between the tombs of Philip IV and St. Louis. The risk of over-interpretation in this matter is lessened, and probably resolved, by the context: the tombs had long been arranged in a symbolic pattern, as Philip IV surely knew; and someone who must have known this devised a reordering to which the king was a party. All of this would not have been done without a purpose, especially since the outcome was to create in the tombs a visual counterpart to the claims of dynastic propaganda. Since the king would have known the symbolism of both the old and new arrangements, the result is to impute dynastic awareness to Philip the Fair personally.’ The materials and appearance of the same tombs offer a possible clue to attitudes toward the individual kings. The three great Cape-

tians had monuments of gold and silver; Philip III’s tomb was of painted and decorated stone. An early description of the joined tombs

of Philip III and Isabella of Aragon stresses at some length their beauty, but the same writer—and others—praised St. Louis’s tomb in much stronger terms.1*! To a witness the contrast would have been striking. ‘There is a tacit judgment in the change of materials which made the tomb of Philip III less wonderful than those of his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, beside which it stood. His was of finer quality than those of the distant ancestors which had been in-

stalled in 1264, but distinctly inferior to those of the heroes of the dynasty who had immediately preceded him. These data must be viewed in conjunction with the date of the completion of the tomb: the tomb of Philip III was not placed on his grave until the second half of 1307, twenty-two years after his death; even work on the tomb

144 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism is not recorded until 1298 or 1299.'°? Such delays are astounding. ‘The tomb of Isabella of Aragon, which matched Philip II1’s, had been completed four years after her burial; that of Jeanne of Champagne, wife of Philip IV, was finished in five years.1°° The tomb of St. Louis took more time—perhaps because of the special decisions to be made in marking

the grave of an assumed saint—but by late-1282, at the latest, the golden tomb was in place.'** From these comparisons, one might have

expected the tomb of Philip III to have been completed some ten to

fifteen years or more sooner than was actually done. These facts prompt several inferences. ‘The image of the tombs, like what is known

or surmised of many contemporary views of the Aragonese expedi-

tion, suggests that Philip III had fallen below the example of his predecessors.'® Since the plans for the tomb were approved by Philip IV, who appears to have opposed his father’s crusade and then to have reacted against it, the king himself must on some level have shared the adverse view.!** Indeed, Philip IV’s exceptional neglect in the matter of his father’s tomb could be taken to imply strong disrespect or even hostility on his part.1”"

Scholarly judgment of the reign of Philip the Fair is in rapid flux at the present time. Study of the elaboration of royal dynastic ideas in the course of the thirteenth century suggests several themes which should figure in the reappraisal. At approximately the time of the canonization of Louis IX, an ideal composed by the by-then linked or even fused concepts of lineage and piety was being applied to the French king with exacting force. These qualities, the two most important of the received models of legitimacy, were focused on the king through the channels of personal inheritance and of office, the distinction between which was often blurred. By the end of the century, the virtue of the ancestors, culminating in the figure of St. Louis, had assumed proportions which excluded the older ideal of the son’s surpassing his father’s achievement. Then the level of accomplishment

fell. Only three years after renewed hearings preparatory to the canonization of Louis IX, the undistinguished reign of Philip III ended with ignominious defeat in Aragon. In terms of personal models, this setback was a decisive interruption of the familial ideal articulated by Charles of Anjou. The reign may be judged a failure also by the more passive test of imitation of the received example. It was not a worthy sequel to the reign of St. Louis, nor perhaps a proper model for that of Philip IV, who did not, in fact, follow his father’s policies but re-

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 145 versed them. There was thus an inherent conflict or tension in the speculum of Capetian history propounded to the later Philip by Guillaume de Nangis. There is a curious synchronism between the apotheosis of St. Louis

and the unprecedented claims made for the king of France and his kingdom under Philip IV. ‘The concurrence is heightened by the contrast between the boldness of the pretensions and the weakness of the recent record, of which the explicit ideals and comparisons forced some judgement. At precisely this point, the French king assumed the public

stance of hereditary lay overseer of the church. The tenor of the dynastic statements from the circles of Philip IV, especially those by Nogaret and the dossier on Bernard Saisset, reflects a care to portray the king as the heir, and worthy heir, to his progenitors. Criticisms of his rule frequently were expressed as at least partial denials of the same test. There is strong evidence that Philip IV was personally involved in the cult of his ancestors, which appears as an integral part of the royalty during his reign. His posture and role as holy king are inseparable from this perspective of his heritage. By whatever combination of impulses, Philip and his circle projected ancestral precedent as a basis for his actions, often in the form of a composite image in which St. Louis and Charlemagne are especially evident.1%° This view of the royal mystique must not be read out of context. There was never unanimity of opinion on such matters. ‘The chronicler of Saint-Médard at Soissons, writing about 1250, had been unaware of, or had rejected, the idea that his king was a Carolingian, for he expressly said that St. Louis was “de genere Hugonis Capeti.’’!%° A decade later, Philip Mouskes of ‘Tournai held a similar opinion.

Although he proudly said that Louis VIII was “de la lignie des Flamens et des Hainauiers,” he appears not to have known the reditus, which had been invented in his region; instead he called St. Louis the ninth “des oirs roi Huon-Kapet, que sans nul droit aquist le resne.’’?°° The accusations against Bernard Saisset testify that others—perhaps among them the bishop of Pamiers—continued to hold such opinions. Specific ideas varied also among those who accepted the Carolingian descent. Ihe anonymous Historia regum of ca. 1205 was translated into

French for Alfonse of Poitiers, and other translations and copies of the work were made. This text traced Carolingian descent for Philip Augustus through his mother, a version which most later writers ignored.”°* Another tradition was recorded in copies of the Chronicle

146 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism of fours, which traced Carolingian descent for all the Capetians through the mother of Hugh Capet.? At different dates, different opinions obtained even at Saint-Denis. The genealogy from the Historia regum of ca. 1205 was known there, since that text was used by historians in the abbey. After 1264, visitors to the church would have concluded from the position of Philip’s tomb in the center of the choir that he, with his son, represented the union of the two royal lines. A decade later, however the compilers of the Grandes Chroniques expunged all such mention of Philip’s descent from their texts, following

instead the reditus as they found it in a copyist of Vincent of Beauvais. ‘This last view was repeated again by Guillaume de Nangis in both the Latin and French texts of his Abbreviated Chronicle, his work on which spanned the interval from perhaps 1286 until at least 1298.°° Soon afterward, hints of an even more pronounced stress on dynastic legitimacy appear. The earliest evidence of this stress from the king’s own circles 1s iconographical: the figures of the Christian kings of France as carved on the reliquary for St. Louis’s skull which was prepared by royal order for the Sainte-Chapelle and finished by 1306. From this representation were omitted kings whose royal title could be challenged: the eldest sons of Louis the Stammerer, who technically had been bastards; Odo, Robert I, and Rudolf; and, curiously, Louis V, who must have been discredited in an attempt to vindicate

Hugh Capet, who was pictured? ‘The date of this reliquary— coinciding with the transfer of the tombs of Philip III and Isabella of Aragon into the Carolingian column at Saint-Denis—adds weight to this evidence. Perhaps simultaneously, a related theme was being developed in the

historiography of Saint-Denis. In the universal Latin chronicle of Guillaume de Nangis, either Guillaume himself or, perhaps more probably, the monk who continued the work past Guillaume’s death to events of 1303—while adding interpolations to the older sections— took up the genealogy advanced in the Chronicle of Tours to defend the legitimacy of Capetian rule. The product is inconsistent: although the text recounts the prophecy of Sts. Valery and Riquier to Hugh the

Great and also the descent of Isabella of Hainaut from Charles of Lorraine, it does not mention the redztus; although the author says that Hugh Capet “usurped the kingdom” and notes that “many say”’ that the kingdom was then “‘transferred from the progenies of Charlemagne to the progenies of the counts of Paris,” he states as his own

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 147 belief that the “progenies of the Charleses’ had never ceased to reign.?°° This motif was developed further in the chronicle of the monk Yves of Saint-Denis, who wrote at the command of Philip IV,

although he did not complete his work until after Philip’s death. Yves explicitly rejected the idea of a reditus under Louis VIII. In its place he adopted the genealogy from the Chronicle of Tours, positively

proclaiming the Carolingian descent of Hugh Capet, whom he emphatically defended against the charge of usurpation. ‘The manuscript, which was presented to Philip V in 1317, 1s remarkable for its insistence on the valid transmission of royal rights through women, here in the context of the vindication of Hugh Capet.2°" These works had little influence. The chronicle prepared as a “manual” for Philip of Valois, when he was heir apparent to the throne, returned to the version of the reditus given in the Grandes Chroniques.?®

: Important divergences in view are found in other sources, most clearly in the appraisals of individual kings. For example, two different

traditions of the visions after the death of Philip Augustus are given in texts written within a decade of each other: one at the abbey of

| Senones, the other at Lyons. Richer of Senones gives a flatteringly embellished version similar to William the Breton’s; Stephen of Bourbon, however, attributes to the Lady of Beaujeu, sister of Isabella of Hainaut, a parallel tale in which Philip is barely snatched away from the demons who were carrying him off to Hell and 1s placed in Purga-

| tory instead.?°° A manuscript of the Historia regum of ca. 1205 which was prepared in 1293, apparently for a person of rank, notes of Louis IX: “There was peace in the kingdom in his time. He loved God and Holy Church, and they say he is a saint.”’ The same text praises Philip III, who died “in the service of Holy Church,” and adds that “they say that he was li plus hardiz de tous.”*!° A chronicler of Saint-Magloire,

whose work was completed in early-1297, hoped that God would

| pardon Louis IX all his misdoings, “‘for he was good in word and | deed,” and frankly condemned Philip III.241 This uneffusive regard for St. Louis 1s instructive as a balance to other statements.

Most indicative, perhaps, are the differing opinions regarding Philip IV even in the area immediately around Paris. Philip was depicted in christological terms by various preachers. ‘The masters of

theology at the University of Paris called his actions against the ‘Templars a defense of the faith and imitation of the mores of his holy predecessors, the particular sincerity of which may be less relevant than

148 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism the forma mentis behind the rhetoric. The king’s thaumaturgic powers

drew to him the scrofulous from all of France and even some from Italy.?!? Visitors to Saint-Denis could see there a splendid reliquary of

gold and silver adorned with gems which was made by order of the abbot and first displayed in 1307, On it, carved in the round, above the kneeling figure of the abbot, who held one relic, Philip III and Philip IV were shown holding between them a box containing other relics of St. Louis. ‘The figures are evocative: the crowned Philips, identified by name in the accompanying inscription and also by their arms and those of their wives, stood holding the relics for veneration in an image

of familial piety and of familial monarchy sprung from a saint.?!8 Other men cited the royal ancestors with a totally different purpose. The author of the chronicle attributed to Geffroi de Paris, who was probably a legal bureaucrat in the king’s service, recalled and listed the accomplishments of four generations of Philip IV’s progenitors to show what great things they had achieved without levying such taxes as his.?'* ‘The poems of Geffroi de Paris go much further. In the first poem, addressed rhetorically to Louis X, Philip is roundly condemned

for oppression of the church, and it is even suggested that he may be in | Hell. ‘The new king is given, among others, the example of his name-

sake, St. Louis, with the exhortation to imitate him and his other

ancestors who loved the church. In a slightly later piece, Geffroi | portrays Philip IV as the ineffectual center of a vast “hunt” for booty and disrespectfully attributes the king’s notorious public silence to the fact that he had gotten “‘the least”’ of the prey.?!*

None of these comments should be read in isolation; they each contributed to an atmosphere which informed them all. The self-righteous proclamations of the court in part reply to criticisms and weaknesses. And Geffroi de Paris is an ardent royalist: God will support the king; Geffroi1 condemns the rebels of Philip V’s first years; he believes in

automatic dynastic succession; the death even of Philip IV is marked ] by omens; each new reign is greeted with hope; his precept for reform } is to tell the king to love the church and to listen to good advice. He is affected by royal mysticism, too, for he repeats the idea that the king’s

three fleurs-de-lis represent the Trinity.?!® His ideal is the king who ; will watch over his people like a shepherd or a jealous cock, guarding

them and “feeding his little chicks.” Equally important, an image much like that of the preudhomme as presented by Joinville and by Charles of Anjou, but with other elements too, is at or near the center

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 149 of Geffroi’s approving comments on Philip V. Because of service to God, because he has brought the papacy to France, has kept the faith and laws of the church, and has been true in marriage and loyal to his wife, Philip V has been made king by God.?!" The texts from which these expressions are drawn were composed after the death of Philip

IV but by a man formed during that king’s reign. Comparison of them with texts from Nogaret and others suggests that in their common elements they may be treated together without anachronism. The significance of finding these familiar ideas in the poems of Geffroi de Paris is perhaps not in their source or channel. Whether they came to him directly through royalist propaganda, or through the widespread ideas to which that propaganda was directed, is less important than the fact that he saw as kingly those traits which others

had praised in the series of monarchs and in the line itself. Some penetration of royalist themes is found in his explanation of the fleurs-de-lis and his respect for “‘our sacred crown.’’18 The degree to which these or related ideas reached the populace cannot be known,

but it is certain that the Parisians, at least, were touched by some ideas projected from above. A journal written by a lawyer or procurator who lived first at Saint-Denis and then in Paris has survived. One of this writer’s entries for 1330 is informative in the present con-

: nection: in that year, the burgesses of Paris obtained permission from Philip VI for their sons to hold a series of jousts with the young men of other towns; in the féte, those from Paris played the roles of Priam and his thirty-five sons.?1® One can only speculate concerning the enhancement which such popular consciousness gave to views of the royal title.

Royal Dynasticism and the Succession of 1316 | The best evidence of the strength of the Capetian blood-right and, indirectly, of Capetian dynasticism is in the events of the succession of 1316. Since the topic has been treated at length in expert scholarship, and certain aspects of it will be discussed in the next chapter,

: only a brief summary will be given here. Louis X died on 5 June 1316, leaving a daughter of questionable paternity and a pregnant wife. Philip of Poitiers, Louis’s brother next in age, claimed the regency by

: hereditary right and, after some bargaining within the family, he obtained it.??° It is not clear from the texts exactly what accord had been

150 | The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism reached. If the posthumous child was a boy, it was agreed that he would be king; if 1t was a second daughter, opinions differed as to whether Philip would be king or whether the kingdom might eventually devolve on the daughters.?*! ‘The infant was a boy, John I, who was born on 13 or 14 November 1316 and died a few days afterward.???

Philip of Poitiers immediately assumed the royal title, although his right to it was challenged by the supporters of Jeanne, daughter of Louis X, and in January 1317 he was crowned. An assembly held at Paris the following month ruled that a woman could not succeed to the French throne. After protracted negotiations, Philip quieted the opposition.**3 When Philip V died, also without male issue, the crown passed to his brother Charles, whose right, previously acknowledged by

Philip V, consisted of his being “the nearest male heir to the kingdom.’’ When Charles IV died, leaving only daughters, his first cousin, Philip of Valois, was proclaimed king. It was claimed for him, again reckoning only by males, that he was ‘‘the nearest of the royal race.” In

the last case, some said that Edward III of England, son of Charles , IV's sister, had a better claim. The majority, however, followed nationalistic motives and accepted the argument that Edward’s mother, who

as a woman was ineligible to succeed, could not transmit to her son rights which she herself did not possess.?*4 ‘The broad topic has been

much discussed in relation to the Hundred Years’ War and to the formation of the “fundamental laws” of the French monarchy. ‘The successional arrangements of 1316-1317 merit attention, also, as the most important immediate forces which gave a distinctively royal, and nonbaronial, form to the Capetian and Valois dynasty. A first result of the crisis was to focus, though not necessarily to systematize, ideas of office and succession. Differing conceptions coex-

isted then, as they had in the background. In 1270, Philip HI had been proclaimed king at ‘Tunis and, the first of his line, so entitled himself before his coronation.??° Not all contemporaries, however, regarded him as king before his sacring.”*® Later, John of Paris main-

tained that the heir was king before being crowned; Yves of SaintDenis, by contrast, dated every reign in his chronicle, including that

of Philip III, from the consecration. A chronicle continued until 1308 : gives a usage, probably popular, of calling the heir “king” during his father’s lifetime.??* Some juristic discussion appears in the circles of

Philip IV. When in the arguments over the pariage of Mende, in 1307, : Guillaume de Plaisians introduced a distinction between inheritance

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 15] as heir and succession as son, the bishop’s lawyers replied that dicta subtilitas had no bearing on the case and that the king was still bound by his predecessors’ agreements.??8 To some, probably to many, the royal devolution appeared no different from that of any peerage or

barony.”*° In 1316, during the widowed queen’s pregnancy, there was , no personal king. Yet although Philip’s title was regent, business was conducted in the name of the king. The chancery texts are explicit: they mention the domain, fiefs, oaths of fealty, revenues, jurisdiction, and “‘hand”’ of the “Lord King.’’*3° These expressions reveal that the royal lawyers had already joined the juristic theories of the office or “dignity” that “did not die” to the kingship, which was also called a dignitas in some authoritative texts.224 The royal government continued to function under that title until the birth of John I, a period of five months. There was at least one important baronial precedent for the succession of a posthumous son, and earlier documents indicate the continued existence of the royalty between the death of one king and the formal accession of his successor, but the present case is unique because of its long duration and the lack of a visible or sure heir.**° The preeminence of the blood-right is demonstrated by the long wait to learn the sex of Louis X’s posthumous child.

Then, by birth, the infant was king. ‘That fact has so often been denied that some review of the documents is useful. John was buried in Saint-Denis, though with no royal emblems, perhaps because he

had never been invested with any; but the official accounts of the funeral expenses style him king.??* Pope John XXII promptly granted indulgences to all who offered prayers for ‘“‘the infant to whom paternal succession gives the right of the aforesaid kingdom and who in due course will assume the government of it,’ and in the letter informing the queen mother of this grant he twice styled John king.*8* Charters of Philip VI, of John’s sister Jeanne of Navarre, of Dowager Duchess Agnes of Burgundy, and of a league of nobles from Champagne headed by the count of Joigny, expressly call him king.*®° Of Parisian ob-

servers, Geffroi de Paris and the anonymous legal chronicler style him king. Other, slightly later, examples could be cited.*°* Some contemporary monastic writers, like Yves of Saint-Denis or Bernard Guy, did not regard John as monarch.”*" In the 1330s, other monks at SaintDenis did; so too did the southern French jurist Pierre Jame.??8 No opinion survives from the Parlement of Paris; its registers do contain

a few notices from John’s lifetime, but these are scattered on pages

152 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism with others, and the king’s name is not given for any of them.” A passage in the Grandes Chroniques relative to 1349 calls him “my Lord John, who was called king even though he had never been crowned.” Usage is mixed 1n other texts.7*°

‘The conceptualization of the interval before his birth is unsure.

The chancery acted in the name of an abstract king. During the regency itself, the Constable of France wrote to Edward II of the case in which Philip of Poitiers “would remain,’ not “become,” king.**1 Geffroi de Paris, by contrast, does not seem to date the end of Louis X’s reign until John’s birth. A much later text from Saint-Denis went to the other extreme and dated John’s reign from Louis’s death, but I have found no contemporary authority for such a date. There are

few signs of theorizing at the time, although some of the concepts which figured later in Valois writings could be read into the practice.?* A more important consequence of the succession of 1316 was the

change it wrought in the nature of the devolution and hence in the , dynasty. Jeanne was discarded for several reasons, but chiefly because

she was female. The verdict of the Paris assembly which denied her right on that basis has been judged in received scholarship too narrowly within the immediate context of Philip V’s maneuvers to gain the crown for himself. In fact, the specific background—and with it perhaps Philip V’s strongest argument—may be placed earlier. It appears from a document from Philip IV's chief minister, Enguerrand de Marigny, that the issue of female rights to the throne had already been discussed in the last years of that king’s reign. At an uncertain date, probably 1311, Marigny had proposed to Louis of Nevers, elder son of the count of Flanders, as one inducement to accept other and unwelcome provisions, that Louis’s son should marry the daughter of the future Louis X. It was stipulated, however, that she could not “come into the succession of the king of France or of the king of Navarre, unless by special grace they should wish to grant it.’’?43 Since

it is virtually inconceivable that Marigny would have made such a proposal without the king’s authorization, it follows from this text that Philip IV himself was unsure of the capacity of a woman to succeed to

the French crown, although he may have thought it possible that , extraordinary royal action could allow such an eventuality. Philip IV died, however, without having taken such steps; indeed, there is some

evidence that on his deathbed he wished to exclude Jeanne from the royal succession.*** Philip IV's attitude then—although not his reserva-

The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism 153 tions in the proposal to Louis of Nevers—was probably influenced by the scandal which broke out in April 1314, when it was discovered that two of his daughters-in-law, including the wife of Louis X, were

guilty of adultery in liaisons which had gone on for three years as of then.”*° Louis X later acknowledged Jeanne as his daughter, but he lifted only partially the restriction which his father had approved. On his deathbed, Louis apparently stated orally that he wished Jeanne

to inherit the kingdom of Navarre and the other properties he had inherited from his mother.?4* Since, however, he made no provision regarding the French crown, it would appear that he felt either that such disposition was beyond his competence or that Jeanne was excluded from it. ‘The fact that he is not recorded even to have expressed a preference in favor of his daughter may make the latter hypothesis the more likely one.

The arguments used within the royal circles and at the Paris assembly of February 1317 are poorly known. The charge of bastardy was raised against Jeanne, but the better informed sources do not imply that that was the decisive argument.?47 The masters of theology

, at the University of Paris justified the accession of Philip V on the specious grounds that he was more closely descended from St. Louis than was Jeanne.**8 ‘The factors of brute power were that Philip V had himself crowned, an assembly declared that a woman could not reign,

and the princes of the blood, while divided in their attachment to Philip V would not openly oppose him on the matter of the throne itself.249 It may be assumed that the princes were familiar with the unrecorded reasons which had caused Philip IV and Louis X to rule, or remain silent, as they did concerning Jeanne. The earliest theoretical justification which I have seen for the exclusion of women from the

throne is that given by the Franciscan Francois de Meyronnes in his commentary on the City of God, which he wrote at Paris in or around 1322. Meyronnes asserted that although women could succeed to private inheritances (hereditates), they could not succeed to the kingdom because it was a dignitas and women were not competent to succeed to dignitates, as the example of the biblical priesthood showed.2°°

Certain individuals did oppose Philip V. Jeanne’s grandmother, Agnes of Burgundy, protested prior to Philip’s coronation. Writing to the count of Flanders, she declared that Jeanne was “‘droiz hoirs’’ of the kingdoms of France and Navarre and the counties of Champagne

and Brie ‘and of the other lands which our dear lord, King Louis,

154 The Growth of Capetian Dynasticism held, both because of King Louis, her father, and by the succession of [1.e., to] King John, her brother.’’**! Several months later, the league

of nobles of Champagne called Jeanne “‘sole and total heir” to her father and brother, to whom ‘“‘the succession of the aforesaid lands must pertain according to divine, canon, and civil law and the customs and usages followed in kingdoms, empires, peerages, principalities, and baronies.’’*5? That these allegations were correct, within their own terms, accentuates the conflict of attitudes which was soon expressed

in formal principles. The accession of Philip V was based on, and produced, a rejection of the laws of patrimonial inheritance in favor of a special law applied to the kingdom. The new ordering of the royal succession made the royal family different from any other. Several factors contributed to this turn of events, but the essential and perhaps determinate one seems to have been that the preeminence of the French crown excluded women from the royal succession. Only a man could be fit heir to St. Louis and Charlemagne. ‘The dynastic exaltation which made this form of structure desirable was largely rooted in the cult which the kings had built around their line and which was at, or near, the center of the state.

5 / A Corollary of the Royal Race: The Princes of the Blood

A new phenomenon appeared in Capetian history in the thirteenth century: the apanaged princes, who surrounded the king and in some

manner participated in the royalty. There are decided elements of continuity with the earlier period, but these must be sought. ‘The most striking aspect is the change. In the eleventh century, there had been no royal princes; from the second quarter of the century, there were, and these were intimately associated with the king. Many problems are involved with the emergence and diuturnity of this group, understanding of which sheds new light on the bonds within the royal family and on the relation of the latter to the kingdom. The Cadets of the Early Capetians

. The assumption that royalty was common to all males of the kingly race had been inherent in the monarchy of the Merovingian and Carolingian Franks. With the definitive advent of the Capetians, in 987, there was some break in this tradition and a consequent change in interest and stress on the part of contemporaries and of modern historians as well. Historiographical attention, particularly, shifts to the problems of actual succession, the issues of blood-right and electionright, the establishment of primogeniture. With the single exception of the contested association of Henry I, in 1027, the younger brothers did not figure prominently in these questions. Only the eldest mattered. For the most part, this focus is justified. In the eleventh and twelfth

centuries, the structures of the Capetian family were those of a Geschlecht intent on preserving its status through ordered succession and conservation of resources. ‘Iwo aspects may be seen in the complex: the relation of the family to its honor and that of the family to its lands. ‘he early Capetians resolved both of these problems by the 155

156 A Corollary of the Royal Race preferment of successive eldest sons, as the later of their Carolingian predecessors had done and as certain of their contemporaries did.? At every succession, the eldest surviving son received the crown and the undivided patrimonial lands. Cadets were married well, given territorial acquisitions, put into the church, perhaps given money, or disinherited. ‘Che brothers of Henry I and Philip I were occasionally at court to subscribe royal charters, but almost nothing is recorded about the two half-brothers of Louis VI.? Louis VII's brothers figure more prominently in the texts and do appear toward the end of the reign

as important nobles in the king’s confidence, but nothing implies frequent contact or association among them.’ In general, the king’s

younger brothers appear indistinguishable from the rest of the baronage, of which, moreover, they were far from the most important.*

Comparison with the houses of Normandy, Blois, and Burgundy reveals some similarities with, but also differences from, practice in those

families. The only solid common trait among them is that either the patrimony or the greatest holding was always the inheritance of the eldest son. Disproportionately often, cadet branches tended to die out or otherwise disappear.®

‘There was one difference between the Capetian cadets and other nobles: the former were of royal birth and were blood-kinsmen of the

king. ‘The texts allow no real appraisal of the significance of this position. Of the statements which expressly apply the concept of royal blood to a cadet, very few predate the late 1140s, but the lack of such

mention earlier may be due—at least in part—to the accidents of the | surviving sources.® The cadets’ charters often called attention to the

kinship with the monarch, but these texts are few and the data inconsistent. Of the nine extant charters of Robert I of Burgundy, one, from the 1030s, styles him “Robert, son of King Robert, brother of his son, King Henry, by the mercy of God Duke of Burgundy”; two others from the same decade state in the harenga that he was King Robert’s son, as does a later one which cites the father’s appointment as the source of his ducal title; the five others simply call him duke

without mentioning his father or brother.? The younger sons of

Louis VI often called themselves brothers of the king, commonly giving the personal name of Louis VII. But sometimes they used no such reference. Peter of Courtenay, for instance, had two seals, one of which styled him “Peter, brother of the King,” while the other called him “Peter, lord of Courtenay.’’® There was frequent variation of

A Corollary of the Royal Race 157 such formulas, especially by the two sons who were abbots, and the titularies of their acts might list one kind of royal kinship while the

seals gave another; thus the announcement of one of Henry's acts called him “brother of the illustrious Louis, King of the French and Duke of the Aquitanians,” while the attached seal styled him “son of the King.’’® Charters of Robert of Dreux called him “brother of the King” or “brother of King Louis” both during and after the reign of Louis VII, and one of his charters styled him “uncle of Philip, King of the French.’’!° These expressions indicate that such kinship, when claimed, was with a specific individual, not with the institution of the royalty, and without apparent major stress on birth. A similar impression is given by the charters of kings’ daughters. At least once, Constance, countess of ‘Toulouse, specified that she was the daughter of Louis VI and sister of Louis VII, but at other times she called herself only the latter’s sister, countess of Saint-Gilles.™ Of Louis VII’s daughters, Marie, countess of Champagne, named her-

| self as his daughter in a few charters issued during his lifetime, but after his death she called herself only “Countess of Troyes.” Her sister, Alice or Adelicia, consistently styled herself only “Countess of Blois”

in the acts which I have seen, but all of these are from after the death of Louis VII, and it is possible that earlier ones had used a different formulation.??

One may hesitate in assigning weight to such evidence. A surer indication of a special status for kings’ sons is the fact that every time there was an attempt to dethrone a king, or to prevent the succession of an eldest son, the opposition centered around a royal cadet. ‘This was the case with the young Robert in 1027, with Odo in 1040, with

Philip of Mantes in 1108, and with Robert of Dreux in 1148. In or before 1229, Philip Hurepel joined the barons who were rebelling against the regent, Blanche of Castile, and was immediately recognized as their leader. ‘The later impression that he was seeking the crown, while probably a distortion of his aims, is revelatory of the writers’ Own premises regarding the blood-right.4* In popular views, therefore, the younger sons of kings were somehow royal. Although their claims were normally subordinate to the rights of the eldest son, the cadets were thought—at least by some—to have the quality of kingworthiness. ‘hat this feeling should have come to the surface at such intervals is indicative of a continuity of attitude which is not otherwise recorded in the extant texts.

158 A Corollary of the Royal Race The Endowment of Philip Hurepel

Since Louis VII had only one son, the familial pattern was interrupted for a generation. With Philip Augustus a unique case appears, | for of his three sons (born over a span of twenty years) only the eldest was born legitimate; thus he was unquestioned heir to the throne. The cadets, Philip Hurepel and Peter Karlotus, were legitimatized and the younger of them put into the church. Philip Hurepel, by marriage and royal grant, was provided with great holdings—some five counties and various lesser properties. In his wealth and power he

stands in contrast to all other Capetian cadets since Robert I of Burgundy." Philip Hurepel’s endowment was arranged by a clever marital and political alliance. As an infant, in 1201 he was afhanced to Mahaut, daughter of Renaud of Dammartin, count of Boulogne by right of his wife, Ida. This agreement must be seen against the background of Renaud’s shifting politics: married by Philip Augustus to the countess

of Boulogne and knighted by him, Renaud had already betrayed Philip once by allying with Richard of England against him and had only recently been pardoned.'® Because of these circumstances, the king was able to dictate a marriage contract exceptionally favorable to himself and his son. On the day of the wedding, Philip Hurepel was to receive one-third of the lands held by Renaud and Ida at the time of the contract and one-half of all their subsequent acquisitions; after

their deaths, Philip Hurepel and Mahaut would inherit all their lands.!° The treaty was contrary to custom, and potentially litigious, in its neglect to provide alternative terms in the event of the birth of

a son to Renaud and Ida or to either of them by a later marriage. Then, in 1203 or 1204, as part of Philip Augustus’ campaign against John, Renaud was given the county of Aumale, Domfront, and other lands and, together with Ida, the county of Mortain.!7 In May 1210,

Renaud was made to assign Mahaut’s dowry to Philip Hurepel; Mahaut was promised one third of her husband’s future lands in dower, or a cash settlement should he die before coming into possession

of lands. The marriage was probably celebrated at that time.'® The | terms of the marriage provision show that Philip Augustus intended

to guarantee Renaud’s and Ida’s entire inheritance to his son; for Mahaut’s dowry consisted of Renaud’s lands in the Caux and the

A Corollary of the Royal Race 159 county of Aumale, that is, every one of his major holdings which had not been mentioned in the contract of 1201 or the succession to which had not been restricted to heirs of both Renaud and Ida, thus to Mahaut.?”

These arrangements were upset in 1211, when Renaud joined the Anglo-Imperial coalition against Philip Augustus. The king seized his lands, and Renaud then surrendered Boulogne to Prince Louis, who as heir to Artois was overlord to the county.?° Captured at the battle of Bouvines, Renaud was imprisoned for the rest of his life. Louis continued to administer Boulogne; Philip Augustus retained the other lands.?! In 1218, when the direct line of the counts of Clermont-en-Beauvaisis died out, the king purchased from the collateral heirs—one of whom was Renaud’s mother—whatever rights they might have to that country.”? It is likely that the king intended Clermont to be part of Philip Hurepel’s endowment. Later, probably in 1222 or early-

1223, Philip Augustus gave Mortain, Domfront, and the fief of the Cotentin to Philip Hurepel.?? The king may also have transferrec to him Mahaut’s dowry of the county of Aumale and lands in the Caux

and at Alizai.24 A later source alleged that Philip Augustus on his deathbed had Philip Hurepel do homage to Louis VIII and that Philip

| Hurepel was given the county of Clermont on that occasion.”° | Philip Augustus died on 14 July 1223. Louis VII was consecrated on 6 August. Also in August, Philip Hurepel first appears with the

| title count of Boulogne, probably by investiture by Louis. Soon thereafter, Louis VIII gave him an annual rent of 3,000 livres parisis.?® Before the end of November, Philip had been invested with the county of Clermont and perhaps one quarter of Dammartin, in exchange for which he ceded the Cotentin to Louis.?” In February 1224, the matter

of Philip’s lands was regulated in full. Louis VIII confirmed to him their father’s grant of Mortain and Domfront and gave or confirmed to him the counties of Clermont and Aumale, one quarter of Dammartin, and Renaud’s lands in the Caux and Alizai and Lillebonne, retaining to himself three castles situated on these holdings. Louis declared that he was giving these lands to Philip as the latter’s share in their father’s succession—pro parte terre—and that he had had Philip promise that neither he nor his heirs would ask the king or his heirs for “anything more pro parte terre.’’?® Following a widespread

successional custom, Louis VIII specified in his charter, and again

160 A Corollary of the Royal Race later in his testament, that if Philip Hurepel died without heir all these lands held of Louis’s gift would revert to the king and his heirs or to the king and his successor.”®

Except for Clermont, to which Renaud had some claim, and for the one quarter of Dammartin which Philip Augustus had acquired, every one of these fiefs had formerly been held by Renaud and Ida. The con-

stitution of Philip Hurepel’s pars terre—that is, everything except Boulogne and part of Dammartin, the personal inheritances of his parents-in-law—thus resolved both the matter of his endowment and possible future quarrels between Louis VIII and himself over the lands

which had been taken from Renaud of Dammartin. In outline, this was the plan devised by Philip Augustus, and to all appearances Louis VIII was following the old king’s instructions in making the grants. There were, however, two ways of viewing the issue. The first, apparently adopted by Louis VIII, was that all of these lands belonged to the king by right of confiscation or purchase. As those selected from among the father’s acquisitions, they were given to Philip Hurepel pro parte terre. That Louis VIII treated them as his own in full proprietorship is Shown by the reversion clause which he attached to them and by his

claim that Philip held them of his gift. | The other view was that all of the holdings, except possibly Cler- | mont, were Mahaut’s inheritance from her father.®° In opposition to : the position of Louis VIII, which assigned to Renaud’s former hold-

ings the juridical status of confiscated fiefs, the second view seems to , have denied that such confiscation had occurred. The question of Renaud ’s lands is complex. It is doubtful, however, that Philip Au-

gustus did confiscate them, in the full sense of the word. That he expelled Renaud, took possession of the lands, and then invited Renaud to his court to be judged before restitution, are known; but these actions may indicate no more than a temporary “‘seizure, saisia,” of the fiefs.*’ It is implausible, and contrary to much of the evidence,

that he actually pronounced a sentence of confiscation which would have annulled the rights of Mahaut and Philip Hurepel to Renaud’s succession.** Such a step would have defrauded his own son; for since

under the marriage agreement of 1201 Philip Hurepel and Mahaut | had a half-share in Renaud’s acquisitions made after that date, Philip Hurepel presumably had title to one half of all those holdings—and he had been promised the whole—before his father’s seizure of them. In addition, the right to Mahaut’s dowry of the county of Aumale and

A Corollary of the Royal Race 161] the lands in the Caux had already been transferred to him in 1210. It is possible that Philip Augustus treated the counties which he had given to Renaud and Ida differently than he did their own inheritances: Boulogne and Renaud’s parts of Dammartin were not classed as confiscate, but the king’s stance with regard to Mortain, Domfront, and the Cotentin reflects indecision as to their status.*? Perhaps the titles simply were not defined, since Philip Augustus—or Louis, in the case of Boulogne—had possession of the holdings by whatever combina-

tion of the rights of seizure, wardship of Mahaut, or tutelage of the minor Philip Hurepel. By contrast, Louis VIII’s policy appears unambiguous. Renaud’s

and Ida’s patrimonies were transferred without contest to Philip Hurepel. Everything else Louis treated as his own, ignoring Philip's and Mahaut’s rights. By qualifying this inheritance as his own gift, and imposing the reversion clause upon it, he changed the status of the holdings to his own advantage and Mahaut’s detriment.** ‘There are some hints, though no proof, that he cheated Philip Hurepel in the process. Philip Hurepel was dissatisfied. Almost immediately after Louis VIII’s death, during the first troubles of the succession, Philip extracted from St. Louis the cession of two of the three castles on his

, lands which Louis VIII had retained and also the homage of the county of Saint-Pol, “which is known to move from Boulogne.” He accepted, however, that these rights be limited by the same revision clause which

Louis VIII had applied to the other properties. Four months later, Philip had the king grant him a life rent of 6,000 livres of ‘Tours, swearing then that he would “require nothing at all more from him or his heirs pro parte terre.’’*® Mahaut certainly, and Philip probably, continued to regard the counties as her inheritance.?” The Establishment and Nature of the Capetian A panages

In June 1225, Louis VIII drew up his own testament. This document has attracted much scholarly attention as the charter which established the thirteenth-century apanages. The latter have been

| seen either as a dismemberment of the royal domain or as the erection of lordships which would (or did) serve as bulwarks or extensions of the king’s power or of the crown.®8 Perhaps neither of these was a principal aim, or even an inherent part, of the scheme. The king’s first intention is clear, for his will begins with the state-

162 A Corollary of the Royal Race ment: “Desiring to provide in every way for the successor to our kingdom in the future, and so that the tranquillity of the same kingdom will not be disturbed, we have disposed of all the land which we possess and all our movable goods in the following manner.’’*? The son

who succeeded in the kingdom was to have “all the land which our dearest father Philip, of pious memory, held, just as he held it and we hold it, in fiefs and domains, excepting those lands and fiefs and domains which we except on the present page.” The second son was to have “the whole land of Artois, in fiefs and domains, and all the other land which we possess from our mother Isabella, saving the dower of his mother, if she survives.’ If this son died without heir, these lands were to revert to Louis’s successor in the kingdom. ‘The third son was to have the county of Anjou and Maine, the fourth the county of Poitou and Auvergne. Louis VIII repeated his conditions governing the possible reversion of the lands held by Philip Hurepel. Then he ruled that his own fifth son “and all born after him” should be priests. Money was left to his wife and daughter; pious bequests were made. ‘Then Louis enjoined: “We wish this division, which we have made among our sons so that discord may not arise among them, to be observed in every way, just as it is contained above.” ‘These provisions must be taken exactly as the text gives them. ‘The

testament is a familial arrangement by which the king, disposing of | his lands and goods, ordered this divisto in order to preserve peace among his sons, thus “providing for’ his successor. ‘Vo his eldest son, who would succeed to the crown, Louis VIII left the patrimony and various acquisitions, most notably Normandy. ‘To the second son, he

bequeathed his maternal inheritance; to the third and fourth sons, he gave holdings recently acquired by his father and himself. Reversion to his successor, that is, to the eldest of the line, was stipulated

in the event that the heir to the maternal inheritance died without heir, and the same reservation governed the lands given to Philip Hurepel, but no such clause was added to the grants from the territorial acquisitions made to Louis’s own cadets. ‘The pattern followed here was received from feudal society. One

looks in vain for a single original idea in the document. Twelfth- and | thirteenth-century customary law held that among nobles the patrimony, or the major portion of it, was the inheritance of the eldest son, and also that acquisitions could be distributed freely at the will of the

testator.“° Examples are numerous. Within the Capetian line, the

A Corollary of the Royal Race 163 earlier collateral inheritance of Burgundy and the acquisition of Dreux had been given to cadets, and the same principle underlay Louis VIII’s own claim that the lands of Philip Hurepel were the latter’s pars terre from the succession to their father. In the family of Blois, estate partitions, again in units of baronies, had occurred at almost every succession since the beginning of the eleventh century. Louis VIII’s great-grandfather, Theobald II of Champagne, had d1vided his holdings among three of his sons.*t The early Norman ex-

amples have already been cited, and that effected by William the Conqueror may be recalled.*? The case of Burgundy is especially informative. For several generations, while the first Capetian dukes were striving to conserve and reconstruct the old duchy, younger sons were

allowed no share in the inheritance; yet when Hugh II did add Grignon and the chatelet of Chalon to the patrimony, these acquisitions were promptly granted as apanages to two of his cadets.** ‘The Plantagenets offer other comparisons. When Geoffrey Plantagenet died in 1151, his eldest son, Henry II, received almost all of the paternal inheritance in addition to peremptory claims to the mother’s; he had immediately to contend with plotting and rebellion from his younger

brother.*4 Dividing his own possessions, Henry II hoped to ensure concord among his own sons through inheritance provisions and bonds of homage to the eldest. The young Henry was made king of England, duke of Normandy, and count of Anjou; Richard, the second son, was given Poitou and promised Aquitaine; Geoffrey, the third, was married to the heiress to Brittany and given that county; John the youngest, later was promised the acquisition of Ireland. Richard, however, refused to do homage to the young Henry, because,

he protested, “any form of subjection was unfitting, since they had been born of the same father and the same mother’; rather, “‘just as the paternal properties belonged lege primogenitorum”’ to the eldest son, “so in like manner was he claiming the legitimate succession to the mother’s goods.’’*> Inheritance divisions following these or similar

rules were found on every level of the nobility, the particular forms varying regionally and with the size and nature of the estate. It was , common for cadets, perhaps especially second sons, to be given lands from a maternal or grandmaternal inheritances, thereby providing for them without division of the patrimony.*®

Some questions are answered, but others raised, by this analysis. First, the royal domain was not dismembered, for one must distinguish

164 A Corollary of the Royal Race between the various lands held by a king and the royal patrimony. The

latter, invariably, was passed intact to the heir. Not before the early Valois was any portion of it alienated. ‘There is no contemporary authority for attaching Artois or Poitou to the old royal lands any more

directly than Duke Hugh II had linked Grignon to the duchy of Burgundy. Homage was due to the lord from whom the fiefs moved— to St. Louis as king by his brothers and to the duke of Burgundy by his apanaged cadets—but this was a rule of tenure. Richard I had re-

fused to do homage to the young Henry because that would have introduced a familial hierarchy which did not correspond to the duties of his fief.*7

This reasoning places prime stress on the family and the lands, and very little on the crown. So, precisely, does the testament of Louis

VIII. The text itself gives no hint that the king was ordering his younger sons as supports for the crown. On the contrary, it regulates a private matter, assuring an easy succession to the heir and concord among the brothers by disposing in advance of the legitimate claims which the elder cadets might make on the inheritance. Louis VIII's testament is similar to known baronial ones—it may even have been modeled on that of his uncle, Guichard IV of Beaujeu—and its dis-

positions are analogous to those arranged by nobles from whom formal testaments do not survive.*® Louis’s family appears no different

from many others. Its inheritance structures, which were societal, do not emerge as if they had been taken over from feudalism, but rather as a received pattern for such families as his, which was part of society,

not simply influenced by it. The acquisition of vast new lands by Philip Augustus and Louis VIII had made generosity to the cadets possible, and perhaps necessary, but the data do not require, and may

not support, the reading that Louis VIII expected his cadets to be bound to his successor by anything more than the natural ties among brothers and the loyalty due to the crown. The apanages appear as a familial institution, not a royal one. Corroborative evidence comes from the charters by which St. Louis eranted the apanages to his brothers, and then again from those to his

own cadets. In 1237, he invested his brother Robert with Artois and , the other lands bequeathed to him. Both the king’s charter and Robert’s call the land “inheritance”: ““Genitor noster ... pro parte hereditatis assignaverit.’’*? Some modern scholars have argued that the term hereditas is a misstatement of the nature of the apanages, but

A Corollary of the Royal Race 165 the charge is unjustified; St. Louis may be regarded as the authoritative interpreter of his father’s testament, and his own understanding of the grants is seen not only from the charters of 1237 but from the repetition of the same language in a charter to Robert from 1250.°° The charter of donation to Alfonse of Poitiers is not extant. That assigning Anjou and Maine to Charles says that the grant was made pro parte terre, the same expression of inheritance that had been used

for Philip Hurepel. This grant is informative, also, because of the manner in which it was effected. Charles, the youngest of Louis VIII's

sons, had originally been destined for the church, but the premature deaths of three of his brothers had spared only two of the three sons for whom apanages had been intended. In 1246, St. Louis reassigned the portion of the second, deceased, cadet to Charles; but, by citing their advice, he associated his two other living brothers with himself in this action, so that the grant emerges as a successional arrangement made within the family with Louis acting essentially as head of the clan.®! In charters to his own cadets, from 1269, St. Louis described the grants as made pro portione terre, standard inheritance term1nology which is clarified also by the usage in his testament, in which he

spoke of the portiones terrarum which he had already “given and as-

signed’”’ to his cadets and with which he asked the latter “to be

, content.’

Other insights emerge from comparative examination of the titularies in acts of the royal cadets. Such usages changed during the

period under consideration. ‘Those from the eleventh and twelfth centuries have already been noted. The kings’ brothers often, but not always, noted their royal kinship in the harengae of their charters. Most important in the present connection, the formulas used for citing the relationship varied greatly. Robert of Dreux, for instance, put his comital title sometimes before, sometimes after, the mention of royal kinship, with or without naming his counties. His royal kinship was expressed, variably, as “brother of Louis, King of the French,” “brother

of the King of the French,” or “uncle of Philip, King of the French.” Similarly, Peter of Courtenay styled himself “lord of Courtenay,” “by the grace of God brother of Louis, King of the French,” “brother of the King and lord of Courtenay,” “lord of Courtenay, brother of the

| lord King of the French,” and “son and brother of the King.’’ In the thirteenth century, by contrast, a very limited number of such formulas was used, and eventually the forms were standardized.

166 A Corollary of the Royal Race A definite order appears in them. The king’s eldest son invariably styled himself either “primogenitus of the lord King of France” or a variant of that title. Since there are no earlier charters from unconsecrated royal heirs except for those of Louis VI, this usage cannot be

measured against older formulas. With the cadets, the case is different. One act of Philip Hurepel from his father’s lifetime 1s known; in it he is styled “Philip, son of the lord King of France.” In all of his charters dating from the reigns of Louis VIII and St. Louis, however, he gave only his comital title or titles. This statement is based on the

texts of thirty-eight of Philip’s own acts and of six others which he issued along with other persons.®> His seal styled him “Son of the King

of France,’ and his wife’s seal called her “wife of Philip, son of the King of France,” but these titles were not employed in the acts them| selves. The seals were, of course, attached to the acts, but a distinction must be made between the inscriptions on the former and the text of the latter, for there was no necessary correlation between the formulation chosen for the notice and that on the seal, which was a personal authentication of the act. It is not uncommon to find an early charter of a reign sealed with the new king’s seal as primogenitus

because as yet he had no other, or a comital act with a seal bearing titles pertaining to a repudiated or deceased wife whose honores had since passed to a different heir, or even an act of a person of lower rank which was issued under one of his surnames and sealed with another.”® Philip Hurepel’s seal noted his royal birth, but his business was transacted under his title as count.

With the generation of St. Louis the usage changed. The seals of his brothers, of his younger sons, and of those of his successors styled them ‘‘Son of the King of France.” One seal of Robert of Artois called

him ‘Brother of the King of France,” but that is an isolated exception.®” Robert of Artois did not call himself “Son of the King” in his acts; his case is unique and will be discussed shortly. All the other younger sons of kings used the “‘Son’’-title almost invariably. Alfonse of Poitiers did so from the time of his first charters, in 1241, and continued through the rest of his life, giving “Son of the King of France” as the first of his titles and following it with his comital ones. Examples of this usage for him are innumerable.** Charles of Anjou most often used the same formula until his conquest of Sicily, after which he discontinued the “Son’’-usage in favor of that of king. His chancery was

A Corollary of the Royal Race 167 prolific, and examples for him are numerous, too.°*® In the next gen-

eration, Peter of Alencon headed his titulary in the same manner.*° Robert of Clermont’s usage was almost always the same until the canonization of his father; after that he often called himself “Son of Monseigneur St. Louis.’’®' Charles of Valois used the “Son’’-title almost always when not claiming to be king of Aragon or emperor.®? Louis of Evreux used it consistently (though not quite invariably), as did also the younger sons of Philip [V.® St. Louis’s son, John Tristan of Nevers, few of whose acts are known, called himself “Son of the lord King of France’; but his case was exceptional, for, unlike other cadets, he was already a count by right of his wife during his father’s lifetime,

when all of his charters were issued, so the expression “lord King” may simply mean that the father was still alive.** “Son of the King of France,’ found as an epithet in most princely acts and in many documents mentioning or addressed to them, appears as a formal title. ‘The vocabulary used, and the consistent order of the expression, suggest a

standardized form, which probably means that there was a logic behind the usage. An obvious, but incomplete, conclusion is that the titularies reflect a newly systematized stress on the fact of royal birth. That more was

| involved emerges from study of the charters of Robert I of Artois. , Robert was the only one of St. Louis’s brothers, and of all of the succeeding kings’ sons, who did not call himself “Son of the King of France’ in the announcements of his acts. Of fifty-two of his acts ex-

| amined in this research, not one gives him that title.® This divergence cannot be explained by the fact that he was the oldest of the cadets and that he died young, in 1250, before the usage had become common; for although Robert was in frequent contact with his brothers and Alfonse was regularly using the “Son’’-title from as early as June 1241, none of Robert’s acts subsequent to that date styled him “Son of the King.” ‘There is decisive proof: in April 1248, all four brothers were in Paris for the regulation of the inheritance of the countess of Flanders and Hainaut, and the three cadets issued a charter announcing the settlement; in this act they styled themselves “Robert, Count

. of Arras, Alfonse, Count of Poitiers, and Charles, Count of Angers, brothers.”®° Eighteen of Robert’s acts from May and June 1248 are

extant; they all style him solely “Count of Arras.’ The subject of

| titularies had to be raised in Paris in connection with the charter

168 A Corollary of the Royal Race issued jointly by the princes, so Robert should not have been ignorant of his brothers’ usage. Yet it was his own which was adopted then and which he continued to follow. The data should be reviewed more closely. ‘There is an apparent pattern to Robert’s formulas. In the two earliest of his acts, from June 1237, notifying grants from St. Louis and his own homage for them, Robert is styled simply “Count of Arras.” ‘The next month, however, he styled himself ‘Brother of the King of the French, Count of Arras.” He employed this second usage for several years: of seven extant charters from May 1239 through May 1241, six call him “Brother of the lord King of the French, Count of Arras,” and only one gives him the

comital title alone. Of all his later acts examined, one calls him “Robertus, etc.,” and the remaining forty-one give him only his title as count. The charter issued with his brothers Alfonse and Charles seems almost to insist on that usage. Whatever acts have been lost, or perhaps overlooked in this research, the practice of Robert’s chancery is established by the number and variety of those which have been seen. It is thus found that most of Robert’s surviving early charters claimed royal kinship for him, though not expressly royal birth, as if to add prestige to his name. ‘Then, when—perhaps coincidentally —he was older and more firmly established, all explicitly royal mention was dropped from his titulary. It should not be thought that he was minimizing his royal kinship; on the contrary, of his seals, one called him “Brother” and the other “Son of the King of France,” and the representation of his seal showed him on horseback bearing a shield covered with fleurs-de-lis, his horse caparisoned with the same emblem.* Yet his acts made no allusion to his royal birth as such. Robert of Artois was also unique among the apanaged princes of his own and the two succeeding generations in that his lands were not part of the territorial acquisitions of Philip Augustus and Louis VIII.* St. Louis did grant him lifetime possession of Poissy and the Gatinais,

but Robert’s apanage itself came from Louis VIII's personal inheritance from Isabella of Hainaut—as the parties are known to have been aware, since at the time of Robert’s enfeoffment both his charter ¥* Indeed, the only Capetian apanage which was not formed fiom those lands was that of

Charles, ,oungest son of Philip IV, who received instead his father’s acquisitions of La Marche, Angouléme, and Bigorre. Philip IV also gave his brother Charles the recent acquisition of Chartres.

A Corollary of the Royal Race 169 and St. Louis’s described Artois and its appurtenances as having come from Isabella.** The king and his brothers necessarily knew, also, that the apanages of Alfonse and Charles had been carved from the conquests of their father and grandfather. St. Louis’s choice of lands for his own cadets—Clermont, Alencon, Perche, and Valois—also reflects a desire to grant only acquisitions. Philip III showed the same outlook

with his grants of Valois and Beaumont-sur-Oise. So did Philip IV with his donations of Evreux, Alencon, Perche, Chartres, Poitiers, La Marche, and Angouléme.® Thus it is seen that the only one of the traditional apanaged Capetians who did not normatively use the title ‘Son of the King of France” in his acts was also the only one of them whose land did not come to him by way of the crown or the suzerainty. This correlation suggests that the “‘Son’’-title—as used certainly by Alfonse of Poitiers and Charles of Anjou, and probably later as well— may in essence have been a title of tenurial right.

This reasoning can explain certain peculiarities of the Capetian usages. First, the absence of any royal mention in Philip Hurepel’s titularies is comprehensible: If his original claim to his lands had come through his wife, his rights to them would not have been expressed by a title as King’s son. Similarly, some instances in which the “Son’’-title was not used in acts of later royal cadets may be explained

by the capacity in which the princes were acting. ‘hus Alfonse and Charles might not so style themselves when, with Robert, they regulated the succession to Flanders and Hainaut in 1248, for the affairs of

Hainaut did not pertain to the French crown or to them as French princes. Again, Alfonse and Charles used only comital titles in 1251

when writing to the bishop of Avignon about the extirpation of heresy in the south, perhaps because Avignon and part of the region involved were in imperial territory. In 1253, Charles styled himself

“Brother of the King of France” and gave his comital titles when writing to the men of Ghent, again in a matter involving mixed French and imperial jurisdictions.” In 1289, Robert of Clermont called himself only “Count of Clermont and lord of Bourbon” when acting expressly in his capacity as lord of Bourbon, his wife’s possession, although his normal titulary began “Son of the King of France.” Similarly, in 1309, the future Philip of Poitiers, who had not yet received land from his father but was already count of Burgundy by right of his wife, called himself “secundogenitus of the lord King of

170 A Corollary of the Royal Race France” in a letter to the emperor, although after his father’s death and his own receipt of an apanage Philip consistently entitled himself

“Son of the King of France.” A stress on inheritance is suggested also by the titles used within a princely line. Although, after Robert of Artois, every prince of the first generation of a line called himself “Son of the King of France,” there was no royal title for princes of the second generation. ‘The latter advertised their descent by the fleurs-de-lis on their arms, and their relation to the king was perfectly well known, but no formula called attention to the fact.%? The reason is perhaps that structures had changed with the formation of a new family unit. The term “son”

included the meaning “heir”: primogenitus was the standard royal, and frequent noble, title for the principal heir and successor-apparent, though filiws was used with the same meaning in some baronial acts. Such usage is found in territories on all sides of the king’s lands.™ In

northern France, and probably elsewhere, the expressions “son of” and “daughter of’’ a person were often used synonymously, or with overlapping meaning, with “heir to” that person’s land or a portion of it.7> And it was current law, though subject to the rule that baronies could not be split, that all children were heirs, cadet sons having the

right to a pars or portio of their parents’ land and daughters to a dowry.7® Within the line of a Capetian cadet, the prince of the first generation was entitled “Son of the King of France” after his father was dead—indeed, it was only after the father had died that the title 1s found. It was also only after the father’s death that the son received his apanage.”” But the heir to the “Son of the King of France’ was that son’s primogenitus: Robert of Clermont was “Son of the King of France, Count of Clermont,” but Robert’s heir, Louis, was “‘Eldest son

of the Count of Clermont, lord of Bourbon,” until succeeding his father, when he had full title merely as count.7® Parallel usage is found in the acts of Charles and Philip of Valois and in those of contempo-

rary, non-royal, barons. Thus Philip appears as “Eldest son of the Count of Valois, Count of Maine,” although his father was count of Valois as “Son of the King of France.’ A corresponding break is implied by the appearance of surnames for the princely lines: although the senior princes were known by a variety of names, their sons were

Louis and John “of Clermont” and Philip and Charles the Younger “of Valois,’ even while the fathers were still alive and in possession of the counties from which the names were drawn.*° The first generations

A Corollary of the Royal Race 17] of apanaged princes thus held their lands as kings’ sons, and that in the reigns of their brothers and nephews, but their sons succeeded them as sons and heirs of the fathers, not as kings’ grandsons. ‘The changes in the family groupings transformed the character of the hold-

ings, making them no longer the apanages of cadets but the patrimonies of heirs.

Familial Motives and Factors of State under St. Louts and Philip III

Inevitably, there was tension between the need to provide for, and to satisfy, the cadets and the wish to conserve the patrimony and ac-

quisitions for the benefit of the principal heir. This problem was universal and had already been met through various expedients at every level of the feudal hierarchy.*4 Among the Capetians of the thirteenth century, this conflict surfaced early in circumstances analogous to those which often produced such quarrels elsewhere; here it came in the friction, and even antagonism, between the senior royal line and the family of Philip Hurepel. It has already been seen that the terms by which Louis VIII settled estates on Philip Hurepel were harsh, possibly abusive, and that Philip exacted two additions to his endowment as soon as his brother’s death put the government into the hands of a weak regency.®? With Philip’s death, however, in 1234,

the situation was reversed, and St. Louis, now of age, pressed to the fullest the claims given to him by his father’s testament and charter to Philip. Within two weeks of her husband’s funeral, Mahaut was called upon to do homage to the king for her fiefs. She was made to acknowl-

edge that she held Boulogne and Renaud’s part of Dammartin by inheritance from her parents, but the county of Clermont and one quarter of Dammartin only as guardian for her daughter Jeanne. At the same time, she was required to deliver her castles of Boulogne and Calais to the king to be held by him for ten years.** Then, acting by

right of wardship for Jeanne, the king seized the other holdings of the estate. Mahaut was allowed her dower rights, defined as Mortain—

but not its castle, which the king retained—but St. Louis took into his hand the other two-thirds of the combined holdings of Mortain and Domfront.8* Mahaut had then to sue for recovery of Aumale and the lands in the Caux which had belonged to her father, showing the

letters of Philip Augustus which named them as her dowry, before the king would conclude with her a pact, valid for twelve years, by

172 A Corollary of the Royal Race which she would receive one half of the revenues from those holdings —the other half to be spent on their upkeep. At the end of the twelve years, the respective rights of Mahaut, Jeanne, and St. Louis were to be as they had been before the agreement was made.® ‘These conditions were simply imposed by the king, whose agents had already seized the holdings. In her own acts, Mahaut continued to claim either all or

most of these lands as her inheritance; but the king held what he had taken, at least until Jeanne’s marriage, in or by 1242, and after her death, in 1252, his government took them again.8° Mahaut received income from at least some of them until her own death in 1258.5" St. Louis’s policy toward the claims of cadets in his immediate family

shows a certain ambivalence. This attitude is reflected early in an anecdote about the birth of his first child, in 1240. The king had hoped for a son, and, when the child was a daughter, the attendants were afraid to tell him. They turned for aid to Louis’s friend, the bishop of Paris, who announced the birth by telling Louis to rejoice, “because today the crown of France has gained a king; for you have had a daughter, by whose marriage portion you will have a kingdom, and if you had had a son you would have had to give [him] a great county.” “And by this he cheered him,” says the narrator, so the joke had some thrust.8° The story may be apocryphal, but the conflict of interests which it evokes is documented from later in the reign. In 1246, St. Louis had given his brother Charles the counties originally intended for the second cadet, their late brother John. There

were baronial precedents for the king’s action, but it is uncertain whether he was actually bound to promote Charles, who had been designated for the priesthood, to the place of John, who had survived their father and thus had been heir to the lands. But he did so, thus alienating Anjou and Maine, valuable possessions which were adjacent to the royal holdings.®* In 1252, however, a new possibility appeared upon the death without issue of Jeanne, daughter of Philip Hurepel.

St. Louis was then on crusade, but Alfonse and Charles quickly brought their possible claims on the inheritance to the attention of their mother, the regent. She reserved the case for the king’s judgment

when he returned from the East. The decision was not issued until 1258. ‘The arguments are known only from the formal verdict, which records that the counts of Poitiers and Anjou had claimed two-thirds of the county of Clermont, “which had escheated to them, so they said,

by the death of Madame Jeanne, who was the daughter of Count

A Corollary of the Royal Race 173 Philip, their uncle.” After examination of the king’s charters, and on the counsel of preudhommes, the court, however, awarded the county to Louis.°° The reference to the king’s charters probably means that the judgment was based on the reversion clause that Louis VIII had attached to the grants to Philip Hurepel; but the issue was complicated, because that provision had said that the lands should revert to the king if Philip died without heir whereas in the event it was his daughter who had done so. While the ruling of the court appears well founded, the suit had raised serious issues. For since Robert of Artois had predeceased Jeanne, the request by Alfonse and Charles for twothirds of the county can only mean that they regarded themselves as two of the three closest collateral heirs among whom the succession

should be divided equally, as some customs prescribed. ‘That the provisions of their father’s acts were interpreted as annulling this claim has no bearing on the fact that Alfonse and Charles thought of themselves as heirs in this way. Nor, apparently, was their argument challenged on those grounds. The issue was all the more serious because such claims, which could be expected to recur in the course of

generations, threatened to disrupt the dynastic ordering of family and lands. By 1269, when St. Louis endowed his own cadets, he had found a

system which guaranteed the preeminence of the king and crown as his father’s will had not done. First, his young sons were to be given

small counties—Valois, Alencon and Perche, and Clermont-enBeauvaisis—which were supplemented by the sons’ marriages to the heiresses to Nevers, Blois, and Bourbon, thus reducing the drain on the royal properties. ‘The status of churches and holdings in the apanages which were attached to the crown was reserved. Further, St. Louis guarded against future contests such as he had faced with regard to Clermont. His charters, in contrast to his father’s will, made reversion apply “if our same son or his heir or heirs should die without heir of his body.’’?! All ambiguity in the reversion clause was thus removed.

St. Louis also reduced the status and privileges of his cadets to a level beneath that of his brothers. One difference was in the rank of ) their marriages. St. Louis’s brothers, partially as instruments of royal policy, had been married to magnates’ daughters: Robert to the sister of the duke of Brabant, niece of the emperor; John, afhanced to the daughter, and second-in-line as heir, of the duke of Brittany; Alfonse to the heiress of the count of Toulouse; Charles to the principal heiress

174 A Corollary of the Royal Race of the count of Provence.®? With one exception, St. Louis arranged more modest marriages for his cadets. His second son, Philip, was

indeed married to a daughter of the king of Aragon, as part of a broader peace between the two kingdoms; but there was no chance that this match would rival that of the heir, Louis, who was engaged to the eldest daughter and heiress presumptive of the king of Castile.”*

The younger cadets were all married to heiresses to counties within France. It is noteworthy that of them only Peter, the future heir to Alencon and Perche, was endowed with lands which formed a territorial unit with those of his wife. John, whose wife was countess of Nevers, was given Valois; the future Robert of Clermont was married to the heiress to Bourbon. Since the charters granting the apanages were issued some time after all these marriages had been contracted, it would seem that the king deliberately chose not to create territorial blocs for his sons.°* This policy was a reversal of the one which St. Louis, or Blanche, had pursued with regard to his brothers. In general, it was his daughters, not his younger sons, for whom St. Louis contracted high matrimonial alliances of state—with the count of Champagne (who was also king of Navarre), the Infante of Castile, and the duke of Brabant. And their dowries were paid in money not land.°*?

Another difference is seen in the practice of homages. Alfonse of

Poitiers and Charles of Anjou had been exempted from the performance of homages for fiefs which they held from the king of England, and Alfonse had declined to perform it to the bishops of his territories. St. Louis, however, ordered his sons, John and Robert, to do homage to the bishops of Soissons and Beauvais and to the abbot of Saint-Denis for parts of their apanages, and during his father’s lifetime John did homage at least five times for portions of his wife’s property: twice to successive bishops of Chalons, to the bishops of Paris and Chartres, and to the duke of Burgundy.** During their brother’s reign, Peter is known to have done homage to the bishop of Paris, and Robert was required to do so to the duke of Burgundy.*” On the whole, these measures only reduced the size and some of the privileges of the grants, all of it mitigated by lucrative marriages. The lands were still porizones

terrarum, that is, the inheritance of cadets.

The tension between the inheritance rights of the princes and the ambitions of the king again came into conflict during the reign of Philip III. Alfonse of Poitiers had died without issue in 1271. Under the provisions of the treaty of Paris of 1229, the entire inheritance of

A Corollary of the Royal Race 175 Alfonse’s wife, Jeanne of ‘Toulouse, went to the king, but both Philip

III and Charles of Anjou claimed the succession to the apanage of Poitou and Auverene.*® The dispute sheds light on two differing views of the apanages, cast here into a clash of first principles. Some caution

is required in the application of these claims to other situations, because the opinions may have been overstated in the context of litigation, but the outlines of the case surely present the actual lines of disagreement. Charles argued from the laws of familial inheritance: as Alfonse’s closest heir, he should receive Poitou and Auvergne. Philip’s proctor

countered that Poitou had been given to Alfonse by Louis VIII and that since the donee had died without heirs of his body the county reverted to the present king “‘by the custom of France, which is that if the king gives to anyone a county, barony, castle, or any fief whatsoever, if at the death of the donee there are left no legitimate children descending from him, the property reverts to the donor king or to his heir.” ‘The most developed of Charles’s replies to this argument was the

denial that the grant to Alfonse had been a “gift” at all: for “by reason of the persons’’ what the father gives to his son is not a gift, even if so called, but rather “a kind of natural debt’’ which is paid; and by natural reason, which is ‘“‘a kind of law,” the father’s goods are due to his sons; therefore, the father “cannot defraud” his son of this thing which is owed, and if he does so, his testament is void. By this reasoning, it was “‘obvious”’ that the grant “‘was not a donaizo, but

a provisto which by natural necessity the father had to make for his son, especially since the concepts of donatio or donum were not ap-

plicable to a provision made for a minor son in the father’s “last wishes.” Charles categorically denied the royal proctor’s claim that reversion was a “tacit condition”’ in all gifts made by the king, because

there was no such restriction in the testament of Louis VIII and St. Louis had not reserved that right when he received his brothers’ homages for their counties. He challenged the distinction made by the royal proctor between the apanaged cadets as “heirs” or as “legatees”

and maintained that the sons were heirs nonetheless. It was “harsh and absurd,” he said, to deny to the king’s sons the same succession to fathers and collateral relatives which was allowed to the sons of the barons of the kingdom. ‘The proctor had alleged, also, that “if there were several ‘heirs’ to the kingdom of France, and not one, in that way the kingdom of France would be divided.” Charles responded that this

176 A Corollary of the Royal Race was not true, meaning applicable to his case, “because the county of Poitou was not anciently a part of the kingdom of France but is a new acquisition.” ®?

Charles’s arguments were based solidly on custom, and Philip III’s

lawyers apparently found them irrefutable, for when the case was finally decided, in 1284, the latter had changed their plea to entirely new grounds. ‘The register of the parlement shows Charles’s argument

essentially unchanged: Charles was more closely related to Alfonse than was Philip III; Charles’s spokesmen cited “the general custom of the kingdom and the particular one of the places where the possessions are situated” as favoring his case; and he asked for the property, “since the said Count Alfonse had had the said county of Poitou and land of Auvergne from the grandfather of the said Lord Philip, king of France, as his pars terre.” Although Philip’s lawyers had earlier accepted Louis VIII as the donor, his proctors now argued from the premise that the grant to Alfonse had come from St. Louis. This shift changed the nature of the original action. The royal case was now that “by the general custom fully observed up until now by many generations of kings, when any hereditary gift proceeds from the lord king to one of his brothers, and that donee dies without heir of his own

body, those gifts revert by full right to that donor or to his heir, the successor in the kingdom, and in this case the nephew excludes the uncle, since in all things that nephew by his own right and by general custom represents the donor father.” From there Philip’s lawyers denied the positive right of royal cadets to any inheritance: ‘“When the lord king dies and the king’s eldest son succeeds in the kingdom, the brothers of the same king cannot ask for a certain portion of the father’s goods—a third, fourth, or fifth, or any—and if they ask they shall not be heard; but the eldest confers on them as much as he wishes, when he wishes.” Then the proctor alleged the ‘‘special customs of the places where the requested possessions are located’’ as holding that in the case of baronies, if the donee died without heirs and the donor was also dead, such donations ‘‘revert by full right not to the donee’s brother, but to the son of the donor, successor to the kingdom.” ‘The customs were examined through testimony, and eventually the court ruled in favor of Philip III.1 Philip III’s case was, at best, weak. Answering none of the points

raised by Charles, his spokesmen set forth, and argued from, a different set of principles. The central issue behind the arguments was whether the apanages were inheritance from the father or gifts from

A Corollary of the Royal Race 177 the brother. It may have been true that the custom of reversion in default of direct heirs had ‘‘been observed by many generations of kings” with regard to ordinary, heritable fiefs which they granted.*° The same principle was less surely applicable to cadet inheritance. The only precedents for that view which predated the grant to Alfonse

were Louis VIII’s restrictions to Philip Hurepel and to Robert of Artois. St. Louis had not included such a clause in his charters to Robert and Charles, and clearly none of Alfonse either. Alfonse, demonstrably, was aware of no “‘tacit condition” or “general custom” of reversion to the king, for it appears from his testament that he did not know who his successor would be. There he spoke of “our heirs or our successors, that one or those who by law or by custom or by usage can and should be our heir or our successor and come into the succession of our inheritance (heritage).’’1°? "Thus Alfonse contemplated either the transmission of his holdings intact to a single heir or their division among his collateral relatives. His premises may not have been the same as Charles's, but they were not those of the parlement either. Fqually serious, Philip III’s lawyers had suppressed pertinent documents. Charles had asked that his father’s testament “‘or another legal text’ be shown, because “otherwise the truth about it [reversion] cannot be known.’’°? But the royal proctor did not produce the documents, and the conclusion suggested by those which survive is that he did not do so because they would have weakened or destroyed his case. Ihe testament of Louis VIII would have shown that the grant was first from the father, not the brother, and that the bequest said nothing about reversion. St. Louis’s charter to Alfonse, which almost certainly was similar to those to Robert and Charles, would not have mentioned reversion—about which Alfonse knew nothing—and would have referred to their father’s will, probably calling the lands Alfonse’s “inheritance’’—either hereditas or pars terre, the terms that had been used in the charters of Robert and Charles.1* These texts would have disproved the whole conception of apanages that was being advanced by Philip’s lawyers. Letters from Philip’s own chancery, some from as

late as 1280 and 1282, reveal the utter novelty of his proctor’s argument, for Philip had freely acknowledged that his own brothers’ lands were held by grants from St. Louis.1° That the parlement found for the king in 1284 may be explained largely by the fact that he was already in possession of the contested property and that it was his own court which judged the case. The parlement’s ruling followed the terms of revision as they had

178 A Corollary of the Royal Race been practiced under St. Louis. Despite the pronouncement on the nature of the apanages as gifts from the eldest brother, the conception

of the apanages was not resolved. ‘The premise behind the decree would have exalted the king above the context of familial inheritance and its laws, setting him above his brothers in an almost plenary position. ‘This theory probably diverged from both possibilities and

expectations, and the preexistent tensions remained. ‘The practical situation is reflected in the charter by which Philip III assigned lands to his own cadets, which dates from less than one year after the ruling on Poitou and Auvergne. Philip III designated the county of Valois for his elder cadet, Charles, and that of Beaumont-sur-Oise for the younger one, Louis, provisions which were so inadequate that Philip IV more

than doubled both of them. It is possible that in making such small bequests to his cadets Philip III intended to reduce the aspect of paternal inheritance in the constitution of apanages and to make the latter more nearly a voluntary endowment by the brother-king. But if that was his aim, he introduced no such statement in place of the older ideas. His motives, as expressed in the charter of donation, link the family with the kingdom in a manner antithetical to the arguments just used against Charles of Anjou. The king acted, desiring that after our death our children should be in love and concord, and that every kind of dispute and rancor be removed from among them, insofar as we are

able to do so now ourselves, for by this same thing we intend to provide for the | peace and tranquillity of our subjects and the good state of our kingdom.196

He therefore assigned the named counties to his younger sons “‘as all

the provision which they may, or should, or could request or have of our land or of our goods after our death.” Later in the document he called this endowment their porcion de terre. The heir, successor in the royalty, was protected by the poverty of the apanages given and by

the fact that it was he who would actually make the grants; but the language of the charter permits only the reading that the lands were inheritance.1°?

The Princes, the Royalty, and the Territorial Kingdom

The problems of the apanage grants, and the theories associated with them, were part of a large complex: the relation of the princes to the royalty. Royal birth was common to all sons of kings, and in the

A Corollary of the Royal Race 179 eleventh and twelfth centuries the blood-right had occasionally spurred a younger brother to claim the throne. In the thirteenth century, this particular problem did not arise.1°* But the broader situation was suddenly different then than previously—first with the succession of a minor king with a group of cadets only slightly younger than himself, then with the establishment of three royal brothers, well married. and endowed with principalities on the peripheries of the king’s own lands. St. Louis’s brothers received privileges which can only be compared with the king’s. During the minority, homages and other assurances were given to the king, his mother, and his brothers as a family group.’ The treaty of 1259 with Henry III of England specified that Louis’s brothers would not do homage to the king of England for lands held from him. Clear political motives may have figured in that case, and parallels could be cited—the duke of Burgundy, for instance, would not do homage to a count, although he did to bishops and abbots

—but Alfonse refused to perform homage even to the bishops of his lands.1'° During St. Louis’s first crusade, it was the king’s brothers who, having returned to France, assumed nominal direction of the regency after their mother’s death, an unprecedented role for a Capetian cadet. Again, in 1270, it was his brother whom Philip III named as regent in the event of his own death before his heir’s majority. Philip IV first named his wife as regent in such a case, but then he named his brother, Charles of Valois, to succeed her if she died before the heir had come of age.1"1 Under Philip IV, the royal princes appear as councillors, military commanders, negotiators; on his deathbed, the king instructed Louis X to follow his uncles’ advice on every matter.1!” As the longevity of some cadet lines of the family threatened to create

distance within the group, the ties of blood were reinforced by intermarriage and by the creation of special bonds through spiritual kinship."13 ‘The senior princes were drawn closer to the crown by extraordinary promotion. Thus Philip IV made Charles of Valois and

Robert II of Artois peers of the realm; Louis X added Philip of Poitiers to the rank; Philip V added Louis of Evreux and Charles of La Marche; Charles IV, Louis of Bourbon and Charles of Etampes.

The charters conferring this status either specified the recipient’s relation to the king or noted the dignity of his blood, or both. Finally, in 1327, the younger son of Louis of Evreux had his barony raised to

| the rank of county because a mere barony was inadequate for one of the king’s blood.'1* In the prolonged crisis over the succession to

180 A Corollary of the Royal Race ‘Artois, Louis X and Philip V regulated the dispute more as heads of the royal family than in their express capacity as monarchs, even though a major fief of the kingdom was involved.1!® After the death of Louis X, the princes assumed the emergency government of the king-

dom until one of their number became regent and then king, and he conciliated his relatives and associated them in his government as councillors and permanent advisers.'!®

The exceptional position of the princes linked them to the king in a number of ways. It is difficult to estimate the importance of the factor of shared royal blood; most of the evidence for this question is indirect. Chronicle-genealogies and some of the family trees had always

included royal cadets. Under St. Louis, a manuscript chart showing

the royal lines put the names of the kings in a vertical column of blocks drawn inside the body of a standing, crowned figure who represented the dynasty; but the names of St. Louis’s brothers were also included in the kingly descent, placed in blocks adjoining the central stem—with sides touching, thus nearly part of, it.1!7 A manuscript

painting from the early fourteenth century showed the royal tree emerging from dead Priam’s mouth. Some of the boughs of the tree terminated in crowned human heads, those of the kings, while others had uncrowned heads, which must represent the princes.'!8 This image may well have had mystical connotations which would be difficult to

verify, but even a very conservative interpretation of it will note the common essence shared by kings and princes. In general, the texts are obscure on such matters, and especially so because the status of some cadets had been changed by the foreign thrones which they either claimed or had won. A letter written to Alfonse of Poitiers between 1253 and 1263 by the bishop of Trois-Chateaux is forthright. The bishop gives thanks to God that He “‘has enlarged the kingdom of France in our days through the regalis progenies” and has uprooted heresy from Provence, where the writer lives; and he urges Alfonse to defend a certain monastery, “‘as befits your lordship and as the genus regium has been accustomed from old to do”; finally, he invokes divine protection for Alfonse’s regnum regium.™ One important link between the princes and the king was their out-

ward appearance. ‘he princes sometimes wore coronets or diadems, which—since the royal crown was an open circlet and not yet topped with arches—somewhat resembled the king’s.17° More important, all the later Capetians shared the emblem of the fleurs-de-lis. ‘The kings

A Corollary of the Royal Race 18] had used this device since the reign of Louis VII. Beginning with Philip Hurepel, cadets used it also. Philip Hurepel’s seal shows him armed and mounted, bearing a shield decorated with fleurs-de-lis; he and his wife were portrayed on stained glass windows in the cathedral of Chartres wearing blue robes ornamented with gold fleurs-delis.121 St. Louis’s brothers, sons, and brothers’ and sons’ sons all used the same device, sometimes with the tower of Castile or another emblem as well. By that time the symbolism was highly conspicuous, for

when the prince was in battle dress not only his shield but his tunic and the caparison of his horse were simply covered with the flowers.*”” An early-fourteenth-century manuscript shows St. Louis in such attire,

distinguishable from the brother who accompanies him only by his crowned helmet. A miniature from the reign of Philip IV shows the king with his sons and daughter and a figure thought to be Charles of

| Valois; Louis X’s robe is ornamented with the arms of Navarre, and Isabella wears those of England, but Philip, his younger sons, and his brother wear the fleurdelisée robe which is so common in images of the French kings.122 When Philip IV had statues of St. Louis and his family placed in the church of Saint-Louis at Poissy, the children were represented in blue costume with gold fleurs-de-lis.12* There is no doubt that such garments were actually worn: they are mentioned in the sources. It 1s certain, too, that they were part of the public image of the family; seals, statues, tomb effigies, miniatures, stained glass windows, all portray both kings and princes in such dress.1*° The banner of Alfonse of Poitiers bore the fleurs-de-lis and the tower of Castile, exactly as the representation on his seal had shown him.1*° ‘The significance of the emblem is not merely that all of the family used the same device, but that the symbol had also become that of the royalty

and kingdom. ‘This costume was never the invariable uniform of either king or princes; but when several of them gathered at court, or rode in procession, or led the army, they presented an image of com-

mon royalty. Late-Capetian texts expanded on the meaning of the flower as the royal and national symbol. An early-Valois writer called the children and perhaps grandchildren of Philip VI the lignage des fleurs de lis.1?" Tf dress is taken as a guide—and that is all that many

: people saw—the image was equally applicable to most of the royal

| cousins.

Consciousness of birth, while certainly not new, was perhaps enhanced among the kings’ children in the thirteenth century. A first

182 A Corollary of the Royal Race sign is the titularies: daughters assumed a royal title. From the time of her marriage, in 1255, St. Louis’s daughter Isabella was called “daughter of the King of France, by the grace of God Queen of Navarre and Countess Palatine of Champagne and Brie”; but documentation for her is sparse. In 1292, her sister Blanche was mentioned as ““Madame Blanche, daughter of the King of France’; she was probably already

using that title in her acts, as she is known to have done two years later. Usage varied for St. Louis’s daughter Agnes: sometimes she was “daughter of the King of France, Duchess of Burgundy,” sometimes simply “Duchess of Burgundy.”!*8 A change came with the canoniza-

tion of their father. Robert of Clermont immediately altered his title from “Son of the King of France’ to “Son of Monseigneur St. Louis, King of France.” Blanche and Agnes changed their titles accordingly, although Agnes’ usage was not consistent; in some acts, though not the most important ones, she still used only her title as duchess.'?° Louis X's daughter Jeanne called herself “daughter of the King of France”

before “Queen of Navarre” in her titulary. Philip V’s daughters also

used the “daughter’’-title or variations of it. Such usage for the princesses should be differentiated from that of the men; the forms for the women were often “daughter of the late King of France,” or

“ot Monseigneur St. Louis, late King of France,” or “of King Philip.”1%° This difference may be due to the fact that the daughters did not hold land by inheritance, as did the sons, who continued their own, older usage. In the case of Robert of Clermont, the title “Son of St. Louis, King of France,” combined the benefits of both tenurial claim and kinship with a saint, and Robert’s position as St. Louis's last surviving son was unique. It appears that by the reign of Philip IV the “Son’’-title was used to designate a specific rank. This stress is apparent in a letter which French magnates addressed to the College of Cardinals in 1302; in the announcement, the first name listed is ‘‘Louts, Son of the King of

France, Count of Evreux,” while the names of Count Robert II of Artois and the dukes of Burgundy, Brittany, and Lorraine follow his.1*! In this formulation, not only are counts of Capetian blood given | precedence over dukes, but the king’s half-brother precedes peers of the realm. ‘The evidence of the way policy was made during the inter-

regnum of 1316 and the reign of Philip V indicates that the royal , kinsmen—whom some writers styled by the particular term regales or royaux—had become a class apart within the government.’* ‘The dip-

A Corollary of the Royal Race 183 lomatics of certain charters suggests a similar conclusion. In a letter of July 1317 from Louis of Evreux and other royal advisers treating with

the duke of Burgundy and the rebellious nobles of Champagne, the names of others who were to negotiate with the rebels are given, erouped by rank; the laymen are headed by “Charles of Valois, Charles

of La Marche, sons of the King of France, Amadeus of Savoy, counts.’ 1°? Later that year, the full panel of negotiators issued a letter

notifying settlement of the dispute; in the address of the document, their names begin: “K. of Valois, L. of Evreux, K. of La Marche, counts, sons of Kings of France; Giles of Rouen, R. of Bourges, archbishops; R. of Laon and G. of Mende, bishops.’’!** In other, similar

lists, the names of Philip V’s uncles likewise precede that of his brother.'° In this respect, the “Sons of Kings of France” were a familial group, relative standing within which was determined by seniority of birth rather than by proximity to the throne. Descent from St. Louis was a special distinction. The titularies of his children reflected the aura of his name. The entire royal family was in fact associated with his cult, through the statues of the family group in the church of Saint-Louis at Poissy and by other observances of his veneration.'!*° The progenitor’s name was used as an aegis. In 1317, it was pretended that Philip V’s claim to the throne was better than Jeanne’s because he was more closely related to St. Louis than she.1** In opposing him, Agnes of Burgundy consistently used her title as “daughter of St. Louis.’’8& In 1318, Philip V appointed Louis of Clermont to command the planned crusading army, unless the king’s uncles or brother could lead it, praising his cousin “not only for the distinction of his genus and sanguzis, since he was carnally begotten by the son of the propitious confessor, the Most Blessed Louis, our greaterandfather, late King of France, who died overseas for the service of

Christ,” but also for the younger Louis’s “special devotion” to the Holy Land and to St. Louis, “whose examples he strives to imitate.’”’?° Some wider awareness of this cult is documented. The lawyer who

composed his own chronicle at Saint-Denis and Paris under the last Capetians and the first Valois knew the royal genealogy, which, recurrently, he traced to St. Louis: The crusade was preached “to Robert, count of Clermont, son of the king St. Louis, and to Louis, his son, called ‘of Clermont,’ and to John, his brother’’; or he notes the deaths

of “Margaret, queen of England, daughter of King Philip, son of St. Louis, king of France, and sister of Philip the Fair, and daughter

184 A Corollary of the Royal Race of Queen Marie of France,” and of Alfonso of Spain, “son of the very honorable lady of great sanctity, Madame Blanche of Spain, daughter

of the holy King Louis, formerly king of France, and of the eldest son of the king of Castile.’’1*°

Surrounded by so many allusions, the entire family became associ-

ated with the kingdom. The shared emblem, cadet inheritance and prestige, wealth and power, and the common activities are probably the most important signs of this connection; yet each of these may be

susceptible of a different explanation. The case is surer when the name of the family possession, here France, is used as a surname for younger Capetians. ‘The earliest such usage which I have seen in a French source is from the royal accounts of expenditures preparatory to the Flemish campaign of 1299; the same entries which speak of “my lord Charles [of Valois]”’ and “my lord Louis of Clermont” twice call Louis of Evreux “my lord Louis of France.’’'*' Four years later, an account kept either by one of Louis’s own officials or by one of Robert of Clermont’s called him “my lord Louis of France, count of Evreux.” An Artesian chronicler writing probably in 1304 also called him “my lord Louis of France,’ probably echoing common talk and thus implying that the usage was current. In the same year, the notification by the duke of Brabant of his own homage to Philip IV referred to Louis in the same terms, and three letters from the future Edward IT of England addressed him as “my lord Louis of France.” By 1312, he was called “of France” also in the accounts of Mahaut of Artois.!# The record for other princes is contradictory. ‘The correspondence of Italian and Spanish informants of the king of Aragon, written from France or from adjacent imperial territories, styled all the kings’ cadet sons ‘of France.” ‘Uhis usage is frequent in their reports, especially for

Charles of Valois, the most prominent of the princes.’#° In French , sources, by contrast, the usage was at first rare except in reference to Louis of Evreux. The accounts of Mahaut of Artois for 1309 referred to her son-in-law, the future count of Poitiers, as “my lord Philip of

France,’ and in a letter sent in 1313 to the king of Aragon by an official of Charles of Valois the writer referred to his master as “‘the noble prince, lord Charles of France,’ but these cases were exceptional; other examples are noteworthy in that they call the count of Evreux “Louis of France” but style Charles of Valois and the other princes by the names of their counties.‘** The earliest French text that I have seen which employs the usage more freely is an entry in the roll

A Corollary of the Royal Race 185 of the homages of Eudes IV, duke of Burgundy, which records that on 17 July 1316 “my lord Philip of France, count of Poitiers,’ did homage to Eudes in the presence of “‘my lord Charles of France, count of La Marche, my lord Louis of France, count of Evreux,” and others. ‘Ten weeks later, the royal chancery drew the contract for the marriage of

Jeanne, daughter of Philip V, to Eudes IV. The text begins: “We, Philip, Son of the King of France, Regent of the kingdoms of France

and Navarre, and we, Jeanne of France, wife of the said Regent, Countess Palatine of Poitiers and Burgundy and lady of Salins’’; with them was the “‘very high and very noble my lord Louis of France, count

of Evreux.’ The daughters of Philip V used the title “of France,’ perhaps first and most often for Blanche, who was a nun at Longchamp,

and more often in the third person, when the lady was mentioned, than in the first person, when an act was issued in her name.*® An early charter of John, eldest son of Philip VI, begins: “John of France, son of my very dear, very beloved, and very dread lord and father, my lord Philip, by the grace of God King of France.’’!** Some royal letters named the heir as “John of France.” Philip VI’s cadet son Louis, who died in 1330, was called “Louis of France.” !48 The legal chronicler of Saint-Denis and Paris applied the cognomen “‘of France” to Charles

of Valois and Louis of Evreux, while also naming their counties; Philip VI’s heir he styled “John, called ‘of France’”’; to the king’s

, youngest son, Louis, he gave the suggestive, and apparently novel, term “child of France.’’!*

It appears from these texts, first, that the usage “of France’ was perhaps popular and certainly oral in origin and only later taken up by the royal chancery for use in formal texts. The first examples for Louis of Evreux were written by bureaucrats of low or middle standing,

the third by a provincial chronicler who probably was repeating the title as he had heard it. ‘The recurrence of the expression in documents from the English chancery, the duke of Brabant, and the informants of the king of Aragon accords with the thesis of an oral usage and implies for it a wide currency. A second major point is con-

| nected with the first: “‘of France” was probably an abbreviation of, or substitute for, such usages as “Son of the King of France.” The two epithets seem never to have been used together in reference to a Capetian male and only exceptionally in the quite varied diplomatics of the daughters.1°° Baronial parallels suggest the same substitution of titles, although noble usage differed from the royal in that the former

186 A Corollary of the Royal Race might apply the name of the principal holding, even a county, as a surname for collateral relatives and their descendants.**! Among the Capetians, by contrast, with one exception, I have found “of France” used only for kings’ children.’

, Another point may be due to the accidents of sources or may be very important: in French sources, the usage “of France” appears first

in connection with the least ranking of the Capetians. All of the earliest examples which I have seen in such texts refer to Louis of Evreux, the less favored of the brothers of Philip IV. The second prince so designated was Philip IV’s second son, who at the time of the notation was titular count of Burgundy by right of his wife but had not yet received any lordship of his own.'** From the second decade of the fourteenth century, the epithet appears as more generalized, though its use for the most important of the princes remained exceptional. In their own acts, the princes consistently used the “‘Son’’-title, never “of France,” to refer to themselves; but in an act of September 1316 Philip of Poitiers applied “of France” to his wife—elevating her,

since her only claim to “France” lay in her marriage—and he called Louis “of France” too. Even in the 1330s, of the daughters of Philip V, the nun Blanche was called “of France’? much more often than were her titled elder sisters, the duchess of Burgundy and the dauphine of Vienne. And although the expression was officially sanctioned, it was for kings’ sons a third-person usage. The earliest use of it in the first person which I have seen is that of the future John IJ; and it is noteworthy that this charter of his, from 1329, predates the grant to him of Normandy, Anjou, and Maine, after which his titulary read: “Eldest son of the King of France, Duke of Normandy.’

“France” thus appears as a family name for the kings’ children either when it was convenient as an abbreviated title or when the individuals involved possessed inferior independent standing. In either case, the result was that “France” stood as the personal surname of the Capetians, in almost exactly the same manner that an honor or

other patrimony might give a surname to a baronial or aristocratic

family, used by the heir and by cadets who were not independently , well enough endowed to be called by the name of their own possessions.

‘The texts do not formally explain the relationship between the family and the patrimonial kingdom. Stress on the religious aspects of kingship, on the suzerainty, or on the juristic theories of the state imposes caution in any analysis of that problem. Yet other, fragmentary

A Corollary of the Royal Race 187 evidence points toward some notion of a shared royalty. When St. Louis found it necessary to admonish Charles of Anjou, the idiom he chose was that “there must be but one king in France”’ and that Charles could not disobey the law just because he was Louis’s brother.'? ‘Two generations later, Guillaume de Nangis ended his short chronicle with the hope that God would give “good life and long peace” to the king,

the queen, and their children “in their kingdom.” A few years later, Philip IV’s physician expressed similar wishes for the king, his four sons, and the entire line, “‘so that they may beneficially govern the French people.” Such words are charged, however mildly they may be read; and other, slightly less clear examples could be added.*°° The succession of 1316-1317 is a focus by which the potential role, and in part the nature, of the princes may be judged. Always at times of succession the family had been mobilized and reordered by the adjustments of hierarchy and the transfer of possessions. In 1316, how-

ever, the Capetians were without a firm head of the clan to lead or rule them. ‘The consequent struggles over the regency, and then the succession to the crown, were a fundamentally important constitutional crisis. ‘They are also, perhaps, the best clue to the self-image of the princes. When Louis X died, the princes gathered to regulate the kingdom

as they would a family estate. Charles of Valois, seconded by his nephew, Charles of La Marche, took control of the government at Paris. Louis of Evreux quickly joined them, but his position was subordinate

to theirs. They were called “‘our great lords” or “our great lords of France.” It was not yet known whether one or several of them would retain the government, because such a settlement must await the return of Louis X’s nearest brother, Philip of Poitiers, who was at Lyons

supervising the papal election. Philip, in the meantime, made it known that he would claim the regency for himself, and he began to secure oaths of support from those around him.15 Factions formed immediately. ‘Their roots may perhaps be traced

back to tensions within the royal family during the childhood of , Philip IV and Charles of Valois, when it was rumored that their stepmother, Marie of Brabant, had poisoned their elder brother and would poison again to obtain the throne for one of her own children.1°®

In any case, it is sure that Philip IV had shown an almost extravagant

preference for Charles of Valois over their half-brother Louis of Evreux. Philip IV increased the apanages left to both of them by their

188 A Corollary of the Royal Race father, but he did so by giving Charles the counties of Alencon, Perche,

and Chartres, and very large rents, by arranging his marriage to the cousin through whom he was given Anjou and Maine, by supporting his imperial candidacy, and by making him a peer of the realm, while Louis’s increment consisted only of Evreux, Etampes, and Gien, and he was cheated on his asszette.° Louis X did nothing to rectify the imbalance. With this background, it is not surprising that Charles of Valois desired the regency for himself, claiming it as the eldest of the royal line, and that Louis of Evreux supported Philip’s claim immediately upon the latter’s return to Paris.'®° Philip quickly won the support of the townsmen of Paris and of various barons, forced the two Charleses to accept his claim, and then faced the party led by Eudes IV of Burgundy, who in his own name and that of his mother Agnes was pressing the rights of his niece, Jeanne, daughter of Louis X. After long negotiations, a treaty was accepted which gave the regency

to Philip and the wardship of Jeanne to Agnes and which guaranteed

to Jeanne at least an inferior portion in the personal inheritance of Louis X from his mother and a possible claim to the throne.1® Philip was already working to strengthen his position. Among other tactics, he employed bribery through largesse or marital alliances. He

appeared at the crucial negotiations attended by the dauphin of Vienne and the count of Savoy and seems to have attributed part of his success to the count’s support. ‘Throughout, he could depend on Louis of Evreux, who previously had been denied his ambitions. One

notes that on 18 June 1316, almost immediately after learning of Louis X’s death, Philip and the dauphin had put into final form the old agreement that one of Philip’s daughters should marry the dauphin’s heir. ‘The count of Savoy was father-in-law to a sister of the duke

of Burgundy, but his aid was rapid, or repayment was promised, for Philip as regent issued letters binding himself—if he became king— to make hereditary the lifetime grants which the count had received from Philip IV and Louis X. As events transpired, Philip V so confirmed the grants with almost indecent haste, doing so within a month

of his accession, before his coronation even.'® In the meanwhile, he . moved to neutralize Eudes IV by betrothing to Eudes his eldest daugh-

ter, Jeanne. He also secured his own position, as possible king or as regent for many years, by obtaining a papal dispensation for the marriage of Louis X’s posthumous child to his own eldest son or one of his daughters.1®

A Corollary of the Royal Race 189 After the death of John I, when Philip assumed the royalty, there was formidable but disorganized opposition. Eudes IV and Agnes protested in Jeanne’s name and tried to enlist the aid of the count of Flanders to prevent Philip’s coronation. Nobles of Champagne rose in rebellion to secure Jeanne’s succession to that county. Much of Artois was already in revolt, for different reasons. These forces did not unite, however, possibly because of the equivocation of Charles of Valois,

the senior of the princes and most powerful magnate of the realm. Charles appears to have opposed Philip, then come to terms with him,

in alternation. It is not sure whether Charles of Valois attended Philip’s coronation—the point has been both affirmed and denied without proof—but he soon withdrew in dissatisfaction to his estates and there remained aloof from the king.1®* Charles of La Marche definitely did not attend the coronation. He had asked for an increase of his apanage, on one occasion even demanding a share of all the acquisitions made by the kings of France since the reign of St. Louis or even before then. Edward II of England was advised that his wife would have an equal share in such a division.’ Of the immediate kinsmen,

only Louis of Evreux supported Philip. On the evening before the consecration, the king wore a robe given to him by Louis’s mother. In

Reims, at the time of the crowning, Philip conferred peerage on Louis. Later that year, he increased Louis’s apanage by 3,000 livres of Paris in landed rent.1®

: Only over the course of many months was Philip V able to quell the opposition. He secured recognition from his brother through grants of property and honors: in March 1317, he increased Charles’s endow-

ment, raised his county to the rank of peerage, and acknowledged Charles as his successor should he himself die without a son. That same month Charles, by formal agreement, pledged love to Philip’s queen and children and swore to accept Philip’s eldest son, if he had one, as future king.'®” The peace was superficial. Charles of La Marche

still absented himself from court. In addition, he attacked Philip indirectly by promoting the charge that their mother-in-law, Mahaut of Artois, had murdered Louis X; this complication was serious because Mahaut’s position was being challenged by the pretensions of her nephew, Robert, to her county and by revolts in support of him.1® Charles of Valois, although accepting the royal command in Artois, also remained away from court. His sentiments are indicated by his requests for papal dispensations for the marriages of his daughters—

190 A Corollary of the Royal Race one to the count of Nevers, who was in active revolt against Philip, and another to Robert of Artois, who was preparing to invade the latter county.'® ‘The pope worked incessantly to induce these princes to support Philip, but it was not until March and April 1318 that his letters congratulated the royal family on their reconciliation.’ The duke and dowager duchess of Burgundy came to terms with Philip shortly after the princes did. Having early advocated Jeanne’s claims to the kingdom of France—and later her rights to Champagne, Brie, and Navarre—Eudes IV and Agnes had continued to oppose Philip despite his superior power and the repeated intervention of the pope on his behalf. After Philip’s peace with his uncle and brother, they realized that further resistance was vain. Eudes arranged the best settlement for himself. Throughout the conflict, the agreement of September 1316, by which he had contracted to marry Philip’s daughter Jeanne, had remained in effect, and in March 1318 Philip increased Jeanne’s dowry to include the succession to the counties of Artois and Burgundy and the lordship of Salins. By the same revised contract, Philip secured control of his niece Jeanne, daughter of Louis X: it was arranged that she should marry the eldest son of Louis of Evreux— with, however, a far smaller provision than Philip had promised to

give her by the pact of July 1316—and for safekeeping she was transferred from the guardianship of her grandmother to that of Philip’s supporters, Marie of Brabant and Louis of Evreux.'!

It might be argued that the princes necessarily were the ones to : regulate the succession, and also to exact remuneration for their support, in a system in which wealth and political power coincided with the lines of kinship. But here the wealth and power were derived from the blood-claim, and kinship imposed responsibilities. Provision for

cadets, that the brothers might live in peace, was the basis for the apanage grants. The reciprocal duties of kinship created special ties to the monarchy: “You must love him as a brother [or ‘nephew’] and revere him as a lord,” wrote the pope to the two Charleses who had withdrawn from Philip V. The pope’s letters appealed more to the bonds of blood and nature than to allegiance to the king as such. The royal documents reflect a similar stress. Philip V, in conferring peerage on Charles of La Marche, cited the great expenses and long trips which his brother was “held and obliged to make to guard us and our honor and for the honor and defense of our kingdom”’; it was appropriate, he said, that because of his own succession to the kingdoms of France and Navarre he should increase Charles’s estate.1“?

A Corollary of the Royal Race 19] Other aspects of this system of values appear in the treaty of March

1317 by which Philip V bound Charles of La Marche and Louis of Evreux to his queen and children. The express motive of the pact was the royal care “for all things by which the kingdom and its estate may be preserved in good peace and tranquillity” and to guard against the tricks of the “enemy of peace, sower of discord,” who “‘strives, not only to subvert the faith, but to seek and stir up ways and matters of discord

among faithful Christians, especially among those who are joined together by affinity and lineage.” Philip, therefore, with the aid of God, would guard against these tricks by cementing the bonds between his kinsmen and his wife. Charles and Louis swore to protect “the good

estate, honor, and rights” of Queen Jeanne and of her children by Philip, born and unborn, especially the eldest son, if they should have one. They would treat Jeanne “as their lady, and our first male son as

their true lord and king after our death,” and all the children with honor, counsel, aid, and protection. ‘Both while we are alive and after our death they will treat our said wife as their lady and our aforesaid

children as king’s children, and will guard and defend them in their honor and royal estate against all, and they will guard and defend their

, dower, portions, or assignations convenables which we shall have given them”’; and if he had not so endowed them, the princes would do all in their power to assure that each of them had dower, portions, or assigna-

tions “appropriate to the royal estate.” In return, Philip and Jeanne promised that none of their children would marry without the consent of Charles and Louis.” The text is remarkable for basing the princes’ obligations to the queen and the desired heir on the bonds of kinship. It is equally so for defining in the same terms the protection of the rights of all of Philip’s children to “portions or assignations appropriate to the royal estate.”’ The word assignation warrants notice, for it is a cognate of the Latin assignatto or assignamentum, terms used by Philip IV for “‘apanage”’ and so rendered in certain usages in the French of his successors’ chanceries.'™* Close investigation of the terminology is instructive. Earlier

texts had spoken of Robert of Artois’ hereditas, Charles of Anjou’s pars terre, the portiones terrarum of St. Louis’s cadets, and the porcion

de terre of the sons of Philip III. Philip IV altered the vocabulary, citing the donations et assignations made to his brother, Louis of Evreux, and referring to the whole as Louis’s assiette. Finally, the chan-

cery of Philip V spoke of the same assiette as having been made for Louis “‘pour cause de son apanage.’’!7

192 A Corollary of the Royal Race This again was the language of private inheritance. The same terms were used in the documents of princely or baronial families to designate the shares of cadet sons and sometimes daughters in the succession to a father, mother, or even collateral relative. In 1297, Robert II of Artois assigned to his daughter Mahaut “pour son partaige et pour apanaige, tel partie et tel porcion” of her late mother’s property.*”* In

1307, Blanche of Burgundy, having received her dowry from her brother, renounced all right she might have “‘ratione successionis vel appenagii’”’ in the estate of her father. In 1309, her sister Marie used the same terms in a similar renunciation. In 1315, her brothers used the same language in a settlement of the claims of the cadet Louis, who spoke of his “portion, provision et appanaige’”’ in the succession to their father’s property.177 The same term appeared in 1315 in a charter of Louis X publishing a successional agreement between the sons

of Robert of Clermont; in 1317 in a document from the family of Chauvigny, lords of Chateauroux; in 1320 in the testament of the count of Flanders; in 1324 in the judgment of a successional dispute

in the family of Chatillon-sur-Marne, counts of Blois; and in the 1330s in the letters of Philip V’s daughters and of Philip VI which announced the division of the estate of Philip V’s widow, Jeanne.1%

Identical language was used in the documents of Philip V, which spoke of his inheritance from his mother as given to him “pour cause de l’appanage ou provision” or “pro appanagio seu partagio vel porcione nostris.’’**® If one turns then to the first apparent use of “apanage’ with reference to a king’s succession, the meaning is clear. In

March 1316, Louis X spoke of the lands which had been given to Charles of La Marche “tant pour cause de appanage et provision pour cause dou royaume de France, comme par la succession de nostre treéschere dame et mere.’’8° ‘The terms are properly rendered as designating the cadet’s portion of the inheritance “from” or “because of’ the kingdom of France, exactly as in the mother’s county of Champagne.

It follows that the princes were heirs to portions of France, their father’s estate.

Conclusions and Perspectives

Modern scholarship has often treated Capetian history almost purely from the perspective of the growth of royal power and the unt-

fication of modern France. These themes do not emerge from, and sometimes conflict with, the data on the royal kinship and successional structures provided by the sources. Hereditary succession to the throne may be viewed as an aspect of constitutional history, but the apanages

are incomprehensible as the work of the architects of a centralized territorial state. Rationalization of this conflict between evidence and theory has often been couched either as a condemnation of the apanages or as an apology for the motives of the kings and for the options

which were open to them. That the object of such appraisal should have been, not idiosyncratic, but the normal behavior of successive generations of kings, suggests the inadequacy of the analytical concepts employed. A different perspective is gained by the use of more primitive sociological terms: the themes of the Geschlecht and its relation to its honor and lands. Capetian practice may be seen entirely in terms of fixed rules of familial order and property. ‘These are that, at every succes-

sion, (1) the principal honor and the undivided patrimonial lands were transmitted to the eldest son; and (2) provision for cadets was made from territorial acquisitions, by marriage to heiresses, or by ecclesiastical placement, according to the amount of available land and the rank of the sons. The record of the early Capetians is diffuse yet simple. Having made few acquisitions, they endowed few cadets. The eldest son dominates

the succession. When vast new lands were acquired under Philip Augustus and Louis VIII, the cadets were endowed on a scale unpre-

| cedented for the Capetians. Many elements should be seen in the background for this change. ‘he royal precedents may appear inconclusively sparse and varied. Baronial ones, however, are so similar to the

later royal measures that the latter emerge as a received pattern for family behavior. ‘The adoption of this model by Louis VIII, after the example of baronial successions which he had seen, suggests that the 193

194 Conclusions and Perspectives clarification of Capetian practice may lie in resemblances between the

relation of the royal family to its possessions and that of the nobles to theirs. It is probable that the Capetians were more closely associated with the royalty with each generation, if only by the cumulative force of custom and mental habit. It is possible, too, that changing ideas of kingship during the twelfth century placed a more explicit value on the blood-right relative to the sanction of anointment. A rough confluence of tendencies or forces may be seen in the royalty during the last third of the twelfth and the first quarter of the thirteenth centuries. ‘hose most relevant here are the interrelated effects of an enhanced blood-right on the familial ordering and the possession of land. ‘The poverty of sources for the preceding period hampers firm judgment on the apparent change, but enough remains to indicate pronounced stresses, if not novelties, during those decades. During the childhood of Philip Augustus, the hereditary right of the royal heir was articulated more clearly and more often than seems to have been the case earlier. During the childhood of Louis VIII, the

status of the heir appears as presupposed and unquestioned. Philip Augustus, an only son and obvious heir, was not associated on the throne until his father’s illness made the step necessary for the functioning of the royal government. Philip Augustus himself did not have his heir consecrated during his own lifetime, but it need not be con-

cluded that his decision was formed simply on confidence in the strength of the blood-claim. Louis VIII was not only Philip’s eldest son but the only one born of canonical marriage; and he succeeded

without opposition after provision had been made for the next oldest | brother, Philip Hurepel, to receive from him substantial lands, not entirely from royal gift but including every holding which might be claimed by right of the younger Philip’s wife. Louis VIII’s eldest surviving son also succeeded without anticipatory association and without opposition, after provision had been made for his younger brothers “so that discord cannot arise among them.” The practice of

anticipatory association was thus discontinued at precisely the time : when inheritance provisions for cadet sons were first systematically made. ‘Ihe measure—first used to guarantee the succession of the chosen

son, or to exclude the others, or to provide a coadjutor for an ailing father—was no longer employed when the father chose not to appoint an associate and made provisions which included his younger sons.

Conclusions and Perspectives 195 The rights of the eldest were so generally accepted that they were barely mentioned and never defined, except to limit them with respect to the cadets’ portions. The succession was not simply an arrangement of the kin: the prop-

erty devolved was part and parcel of the disposition. The apanages were composed entirely of territorial acquisitions. Except for the personal inheritance of Isabella of Hainaut, these lands had all been acquired through the feudal suzerainty—either by confiscation or by escheat or by purchase from heirs who were the kings’ direct vassals. This factor is crucial. The hereditary nature of feudal relationships, especially among the laity, was a premise in the contracts drawn by the chancery of Philip Augustus. Through the suzerainty the king was brought into direct contact with members of other lineages, who seem to have assumed or desired the hereditary bond. An assimilation of such conceptions to the lay monarchy is very likely. The change 1s per-

haps best seen as one of scale and degree, rather than kind, for the heritability of feudal bonds was already old and that of land immemorial by this time. ‘he conquests and other acquisitions of Philip Augustus altered the foundations of the royalty by extending its domanual aspect to multi-regional or even national proportions. These lands were not joined to the crown. They were “fiefs and domains’”’ which the king held, but they were not, and did not become, part of the Capetian patrimony. So distinguished, they were assigned to younger sons, whose claims, or potential for trouble, were thought so great that three generations of testator-kings expressly asked that their cadets be content with their portions and be peaceful. The basis for

this concern is evident from the title by which the allotments were claimed: “Son of the King of France.’ The royal cadets suddenly appear as kings’ heirs. And, coinciding with the inheritance of land, the siblings appear as a close familial group. Simultaneously, in their trappings and behavior the cadets advertise themselves as royal. Royalty appears as a quality of kings’ children in a manner perhaps analogous to that in which nobility was common to barons’ children.

: The system thus evolved was inherently unstable because of the danger that the brothers might quarrel over their shares. In effect, the

maintenance of order was dependent on fraternal love and on the satisfaction of the legitimate expectations of the younger brothers,

Louis VIII richly endowed his elder cadets. St. Louis, to conserve the : greater resources for his principal heir, gave his younger sons only

196 Conclusions and Perspectives small counties and, as compensation, married them to heiresses. Philip

III made paltry bequests to his cadets, leaving it to his successor to increase the grants, perhaps as a way of binding the princes more closely to the king. In the single confrontation of first principles, between Philip IJI and Charles of Anjou, the parlement eventually ruled that the princes’ lands were not inheritance from the father but gracious gifts from the brother and king. The statement was false. With the partial exception of Charles’s own lands, all earlier apanage grants had been arranged by the fathers; the framework of the system followed the received societal models for inheritance; and the language

of all prior and most subsequent texts shows the lands to have been given as the cadets’ portions of the father’s estate.

These findings have important implications. The question arises: To what were the cadets heirs? The early texts say land: Louis VIII’s testament divides “‘our lands”; St. Louis gives a “portion of land” or “portions of lands”; Philip II’s language is similar. Louis X’s charter to Charles of La Marche goes further: Louis speaks of the lands which had been assigned to Charles “both by reason of apanage and provision because of the kingdom of France and by the succession of our very dear lady and mother.” The “kingdom of France” appears here in the position commonly used for the name of the parent from whom the inheritance had come. It thus appears that Charles had received

these lands as an heir to a cadet’s share of the kingdom, which is treated as the paternal family holdings. Throughout the period examined, and most fully in the thirteenth

and early fourteenth centuries, the Capetians treated the territorial kingdom as a divisible aggregate of allods and fiefs pertaining to themselves immediately or to their vassal, to the greater of whom they were

allied by blood or marriage. Their successional policies are often barely, and sometimes not at all, distinguishable from those of any great noble family with several large holdings. The crown and the royal patrimony were indivisible and always passed to the eldest son. Some of the acquisitions of Philip I and his predecessors were never

alienated, but, with few exceptions—Normandy, Vermandois, and : Touraine are the only major ones—all those made by Philip Augustus and Louis VIII were allotted to cadets at one or more of the succes-

sional partitions. ‘The principles behind this pattern of action were very old and widely practiced and had no necessary connection with

Conclusions and Perspectives 197 national unification. They represent instead a regime of familial order and property, the key to which was the inheritance of land. In the interests of themselves or of the monarchy, successive kings imposed a series of restrictions on apanage tenure. The importance of these institutional changes should not, however, be exaggerated. ‘They did not mark a transformation in the mentality or the configuration of the immediate family group, except indirectly by giving the king sole

rights to collateral successions. Their effect for the Capetians was crucial, but in different circumstances in the early fifteenth century similar rules had no consequence. What distinguishes the Capetians from much of the nobility—and from the later Valois—is the series of

accidents by which a high mortality rate in the cadet lines and one case of marriage to an heiress had, by the reign of Philip IV, brought most of the apanage lands into the possession of either the king or his favorite brother. The result was not that these lands had reverted to

the king to be retained by him, but rather that in each generation they were held by the kings’ closest kinsmen, chiefly by their brothers and uncles. Thus, paradoxically, the rotation of lands within the royal family produced a certain stability of possession and rule, as in rela-

tion to the reigning monarch the great territorial lords remained the same. ‘Che fiefs moved from the crown, and the princes owed loyalty to their kinsman and lord, the king, to whom they were bound by a variety of ties. It is pointless to speculate as to which of these comple-

mentary and perhaps variable loyalties had the greatest importance in a system of which they were all integral parts. What seems essential is the system itself, the structures and principles of a sort of familial community, by which royal France was apportioned and in the process held together.

BLANK PAGE

Abbreviations

AD Archives départementales Ampl. coll. E. Marténe and U. Durand, eds., Veterum scriptorum et monumentorum amplissima collectio

AN Archives Nationales (Paris) Arbois de Jubainville, Champagne H. d’Arbois de Jubainville, Histotre des ducs et des comtes de Champagne

AVD L’art de vérifier les dates et les faits historiques, 4th ed. BEC Bibliothéque de l’Ecole des Chartes (Paris, 1839-_ )

BM Bulletin monumental (Paris, 1834- ) BN, MS fr. Bibliotheque Nationale (Paris), manuscripts, Fonds francais BN, MS latin Bibliothéque Nationale, manuscripts, Fonds latin BPH Bulletin philologique et historique du Comité des travaux historiques et scientifiques (Paris, 1883-_ )

Cart. de Notre-Dame de Paris Cartulaire de Notre-Dame de Paris, ed. B. Guérard

Cart. de Pontoise Cartulaire de Vabbaye de Saint-Martin de Pontoise, ed. J. Depoin

Delisle, CN L. Delisle, ed., Le cartulaire normand de Philippe-Auguste, Louis VII, Saint-Louts et Philippe-le-Hardi Delisle, ““Dammartin”’ L. Delisle, ‘““Recherches sur les comtes de Dammartin au XIITe siecle”

Duchesne, Dreux A. Duchesne, Histoire généalogique de la maison royale de Dreux

Dupuy, Différend P. Dupuy, Histoire du différend d’entre le Pape Bontface VIII et Philippes le Bel, Roy de France

EHR English Historical Review (London, 1886-_ )

GC Gallia Christiana

GCF Les Grandes Chroniques de France, ed. J. Viard Glaber Raoul Glaber: Les cing livres de ses histoires (900-1044), ed. M. Prou HF Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France HFS A. Duchesne, ed., Historiae Francorum scriptores

HLF Histotre littéraire de la France JL Regesta pontificum Romanorum, to 1198, ed. P. Jaffé and S. Loewenfeld Jumieéges William of Jumiéges, Gesta Normannorum ducum, ed. J. Marx

Lot, DC F. Lot, Les derniers Carolingiens: Lothatr, Louis V, Charles de Lorraine Lot, HC F. Lot, Etudes sur le regne de Hugues Capet et la fin du Xe stécle

LTC Layettes du Trésor des Chartes MA Le Moyen Age (Paris, 1888-_) Mém. Acad. Inscr. Mémoires de l’ Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (Paris, 1803- )

199

200 Abbreviations Mém. Soc. Aube Mémoires de la Société académique dagriculture, des sciences, arts et belles-lettres du département del’ Aube (Troyes, 1822-__)

Mém. Soc. O1se Mémoires de la Société académique d’Archéologie, Sciences & Arts du département de Oise (Beauvais, 1847-__ )

Mém Soc. Paris Mémoires de la Société de Histoire de Paris et de I’Ile-deFrance (Paris, 1875-_ )

Mém. Soc. Vexin Mémoires de la Société historique et archéologique de arrondissement de Pontoise et du Vexin (Pontoise, 1879-__)

Meénestral Recits dun ménestral de Reims au treiziéme siécle, ed. N. de Wailly

MGH Monumenta Germaniae historica MGH, Const. Monumenta Germaniae historica. Legum Sectio IV, Constitutiones et acta publica

MGH, SS Monumenta Germaniae historiae. Scriptores NE Notices et extraits des manuscripts de la Bibliothéque Nationale et autres bibliothéques (Paris, 1787—_ )

Newman, Nesle . W. M. Newman, Les seigneurs de Nesle en Picardie (XII*XITI¢ siécle): leurs chartes et leur histotre

Ord. Vit. (ed. Chibnall) The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, ed. M. Chibnall, vols. II-VI

Ord. Vit. (ed. Le Prévost) Historiae ecclesiasticae libri tredecim, ed. A. Le Prévost, vol. I

Ordon. Ordonnances des Roys de France de la troisiéme race Petit, Bourgogne E. Petit, Histoire des ducs de Bourgogne de la race capétienne PL Patrologiae cursus completus .... Series latina, ed. J. P. Migne Plancher, Bourgogne U. Plancher, Histoire générale et particultére de Bourgogne

Potthast Regesta pontificum Romanorum, 1198-1304, ed. A. Potthast RA Ph Aug Recueil des actes de Philippe Auguste, roi de France (1179-1223) RA PhI Recueil des actes de Philippe Ie", roi de France (1059-1108) RBPhH Revue belge de philologie et dhistoire (Brussels, 1922-_) RC Cluny Recueil des chartes de Vabbaye de Cluny, ed. A. Bernard and A. Bruel

RH Revue historique (Paris, 1876-_ ) RHC, Occ. Recueil des historiens des crotsades. Historiens occidentaux RS Rolls Series; Rerum britannicarum Medii Aevi scriptores Sceaux L. Douét-d’Arcq, Collection de sceaux

Spicilegium L. d’Achery, ed., Spicilegium, stve Collectio veterum aliquot scriptores

Suger, Vie (ed. Molinier) Vie de Louis le Gros de Suger suivie de l’Histoire du rot Louis VIT, ed. A. Molinier

Suger, Vie (ed. Waquet) Suger, Vie de Louis VI le Gros, ed. and trans. H. | Waquet

Tardif, MH J. Tardif, ed., Monuments historiques: Cartons des rots Thesaurus E. Marténe and U. Durand, eds., Thesaurus novus anecdotorum Torigny The Chronicle of Robert of Torigny, in Chronicles of the Reigns of Stephen, Henry Il.,and Richard I., ed. R. Howlett, IV WaG Die Welt als Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1935-_ )

Appendix

The following symbols are employed in these tables: A designates an original of the act; B, C, etc., designate manuscript copies; a, 0, etc., designate printed editions.

LO Po ~ QO >, od — SG Ss. = SsSL Oo& & oS SG ae SS

a

te Fe OR

S 8SS8oeSeRaea ‘so Sas§ gos x2 om 5Sg gs RGR 22g SEE SeecTse TRE

¥ “2s Zee = 8

;As x8 ee: ow ,?

E a6 :Oo SEi=.6A

: 2: esE: oS Om C is =a = a. > eS 2 8 Ses i. pdt ae eS

3S pe Co & SH é Ene E35 6 Pt 8 Oo & ao 8 ar = & aor Oe cA S28 EZ: ao gas n: abe ERE SS bp mae 3/8 ge i a bg gS 5 D V2.5 2/g28 ZZ-_ ae

fea) ,. iLoD) 2 ge 2g. . . bu : s B|2 : E a)

©.

S's —_ _ 5Ges zs OG KS argo 2g& §: - WN a© cD) SE 2ae) 2D Py Sees gWwW 5S oh B bel eG a) -eSS DwSBmans gy~~%emt

EEEERA Geog SS BENRS ESAS G LE ReSm ¢ eo ve”s *5 g2eek eBags - :CL ovYeo eee SSx Ses he FURR ES a eE 5 fa 5% 0 =8 ¢ Yo. Res ae aoa Zeoe ~28* x SS oe Sf P Aas E/SETESSRS AES Soe SS) ~ = wis NS I~ ea © © &.4 Se Fle gos [oS ,2 eS,(Se Pe ot Ss tg -Q gg aN

Bp FsTM O To WH .a| “ 2 So § SS gx o x 2 ~~ FO “2 68 a 2 a cc | mm a io) on emt Ad + Hoi S| oR i Se. OCG ha 2 = nA MFRS ~| 2s 4 SHAS Mo FUSE Oi ome! Qs x PSau 2, Pa Ss aN B/E 25 Sy =|wT 20OS oS ee tees p> SCs OO ~ Pores Ss YS S&osau &

rls ASs< | 5oS = ~ wos Cw CS °es Oo Pad asHrsesg 3—) eF G&L 8Hero 2SPS Oo FaS Wma B)/ee% so Soe es ee of82¢Dm Of OO >hase . FzS c

2 Mas SF oO WW 5S UO Qs & |

“~~ ran

S] 2] @ > = = m— ra) — — is v _Qe NI mm . =H| — fa) he) 9s) =| cone on om)

204

areay _onNe 0 N ee Y ~ OWN eo ea wf

2YH ao & a& ea © SEs QE ae &&™ vO oT, ~ BS & ZN > %

EE gate a “ , 28 SS rn O cn&| oo 8 SoU

wo oO 5) ran) So | oS — A 4 O'S |= > -Se go ret Mo i Ses O28 YR 5

ee | °

‘3 food Soe F oS =o Sa = : ~ ic & i 6 & sO le & BON wn wy) 69 10 sts eye a nes

= STs s&s HAS S49 eo ~ & Are ~ ao wu aa Zs ZN ASos ZQ2w'S Zoos

ane ae tm v cm E mid So -S . rr . 2 oo Re Qo me ete Wa aed Qrea. T = Ue F 2 =» se §§&S ES y x, Oo 5 mon Cm 5 -u wD eX anevfFQD>Vv mow an) ~~ ¢ x ~ 60K SS Brew a Oo

os ms ie) ooc¢2 —~UV 0as oe Be8 BE a = oS dw 3 ™ Q. ° — aU See S23 S8Fs5 2923 35s ww

CO ID a & NA EVSt LSU S oa gs Onn Ges2 wW KY sme oong cw OO Fe Dom é-+35 KO 605wn FEQLY g +O SEF 0} co BLE EYED 5.0 ce“ 00F3GEL ‘mF6€fc2 Feo SBF 4 = Sa a §8 C25 Esto SiIEAA SH SeZSCSO SB ta Yz2z5

x 1 os

rent

I 6wnm ‘68Fe; SD no oya4 aE .8'E4 wn ' on -£ O *6Sof em Fes- e245 688Vv SEescegs ~v2 gO

oO =Oo oe & Of ¢oF SM 5SeE Sag sh Stoo. Vas o Om SE Mee DSRS} no mn SN 5 gre 2 m& Sen ech S&S Oo Sa & 3 So Soe SOUS SE $6 fF VRS ae so § 2 Oo eS eweKe Zo WF UE mM wm OR mY 5S Ye Sooo ~¥ 2 O » Oo m 28 = 2 © Coa A. Oo oO Pm OG & 'G > O& SPE 275 sav SEESEED EZ VESES Ceo, CFS gems Fs ESHE EE yo B KS

900 G6 ©whee 5 Gb:S of 2 8TU 65h BY SES OD. of woroso 3 «4 ong eeOS ec ty etSE SFPLES F'a sksg G HE & HS oy we ia a wes ee SD > Fog: & ese & OMe SEES PPTs Fae ocsy

ma — sh ; = = i — a Toy . ° e S > 0 2 Si

CO cO CO oO & =— s eoDDo 2 Sai

s)

wo

205

| .aSSE zs RS, 8, ae 2 PE o Sm SS SESvVesk 8 qs SSE SSL SS Es : A ePrtmersN ve SS

~ CS oO ~-Seoest | fs a oo oo et om tom 8 ~ ON © B45 S gg co | v ¢§ ves 858 oa |S ob a6 Yu oo pQ 315 Go} 59 sa & Seales ia co | ae Pam pos & = ANG Qi. 8 SOUL Om] cy Ee As bseslx on CNM AxESE SB a) seS.a8 nae Se aM

| $0

ESE = Z + BO w a 5 a vl Un os o> 2S = * = ir lie ok co a 8 O Zaeek = O Tou GS =

a” mm of men | MD N >n e—O, -~ "i ) en 2 ~~ = 15 Yoo Gk OQ} ae Sel OG K 3 O'S “loess Fm ae AS Oo = Se UN to vp) noe ~ ~nN etgeo ee >na

2) 28246 ZX Q°’RE AS

a Gt oy . 8 - 7 Sau ze = Of = 6 as a5At a nM aMU dy=fo) OF o ma 5 ae fo oO 2 = 3 C < 2g 2 FA Zs o Sz D8foo582548 6 Ao =S 3 oO Os os _& cage

2!/!RQovUus Rod SLVNoO Uwe —

ww vUvUYr DN © a)

Oos sae ie aSon UR €&Oo °F m28 4Y5SoH §€ag aSaR oD ‘Dom ‘| S55 ¥ 3S 2@) 2PreoRyea ae Os e2 S| $8582 S5 S82 a8 SF Ale OLZEO DO ~U8s $A oS

nF Ps g2335 8: g 5 + : Oo D5 Rn & = s £ 224% $e.G5608 OgomArg? nD. YY ae gs) geo & SO 2 8 5p n & CTR AUS

Le §4 O83 GcoF RE5esSP 7BYue © Eun 6 23 ee bu zee >~ Oo 35'S Pf On fF Beg SY G5 mt Gs SS 55) LB) qc95S Per Of f£,s 8& — bY n Uv Do pe CO: rr s|o 2.2 6G O'n a) 5» SEGEE S| ewfe 2 Che &Q2E Sle amFS pos Ps xeaS8FOS 8 £6ESo

—_ iS] | S|i_ |TF 4 NI , OI oo me S Sam MAO E Pr Ee Pass

O | come!2 & re &2 2)/aQ\x = = = 5 =NLm) ooo aoe N NI at at 206

» @& Y hao P8/F wt © ¢O'n ee gy sory 8 a san Ss Plog SHS SA] Om Fees -|2 avy Rakes -S sal fq)O,8 an Fob ga = 4.8 YeERgRR| CA

uae VD ™ c NM Y9SL2H-| B POE Y&| ©Eg 6 bp Ropers . o>HOT] Yt .“GOB wv TN SX A Tm VY iw ZU —s

7 rs , 2 af §

Ne) Neo) 1 AD o~ Sao oy & a . Bo & “ DD = Aad Ca ce ia = 0 Gee S25 S Es a 2 £8 oR Ba BARE ooOR lig &~rE -=s& 3s5 © Us mo 8 rood CD TO2¢_, Toa ec © oO > =i > | & . oe ZO aAT | a oO OK. w am 8 Oo F O 8 e OS & 5| PR o-oo SMRETE yy OoRTE BE gsBUS SS Oisa oS Fes=

PEYSCSEACUEASAZCN an~~ 1, O SeettT Tose el 2 6 oe) 4 8 -a OO BC . Oo 7 -Hi: 8 : cae; SSCOLERESEOC AR SCHSE ~ Sak aa? ~ PS ~“ An v pe Boy lL 1 oes oea ecD) Oor™ 2 6— 2 br “io §

— WD eo VU . OD we WU 7U & ' GN

Sy On Oo &5pono oe -328> ~. 2 ~ u = =a 5 SF Ee Ow SaOo ef o‘sCSO of waoCm sO S a. g §€ = a, O o 2 aes s cA & ez tot Z ge s : ” WH J2A PSos ESSSFL 28fFSik aE og oy -~ 2 2 'O -~ Oe Pa go 5 5 O oy za5 £ Ese 5268 5 &s Ss FR e DT SSL nm oS oy 3 2 SER 2 SEL SEY som a Cea mt oO a raYes a Qa

7p) Nn ~ J

Ww ~ om ny BCo On 2 s ‘a Or Yn 5 c= Geb =a — 2 EE SY SB és o co =: 5 7 Qs. CFE SAS BS Og a, 204 og nileew et rn Vans meee omO¢ noasa

nm~&5> v Ss&ar =~ nn VY Qy=) aSE OYO OD — amr S2ZOES — Eee MoO £8Oo a 5 8.2.99 6 Sryew SHO _ GE ae =~ 2a oO: A om — Py we Q mm =~ Sp) ma 2IZEB°SeoSE + EAD G0" uw of 5Ue 22oisn Gem GF 5G Cy sco MSmeork we Re ae & a 7 ae) = & P oD) O wae mS 5 HF 7 Bock a) Dea Un Ss Sp EC ECCLES as a Umer eePSE Fo 6 MORE St mmSis _&Ea— ° (Agger S CAR OR

a ccm 2 = 4 oC| rs = © oO CO ) v eB) la) © Q cD) oD fo . aON Oo v= mo nes =a— 2ma a Fe Tw . . on Ol NI NI = Oo a) ~~ op on qi oo

i

— SO — me — os A

207

xSuda q Uv P~ & . . sSELLCIOS =78D PE: D4 Son ES 6 SEMA cH YS Do Som e Sw © ce vg LaesNV 5g ee Ee 5 oo Bua ost ev® go aR Oo gtas YY Yi HA me QM . om

SU ny omr™ 5 Ea 2S 6 mt Zt 5S = $5 - 7 ®

PHM PSE FoF oka sSo GgSw YRS Ef UD aSov 5 Oeeease o & EO Qy n Oy 6) Be5Ps QQ & nem & Ses a Fes sos zsBen © ,~O 9 moa = o aM ES GRA ~ea™ F&F AS ranUR Ooom 2 Le —~s a . REG =me —XL yoo50 avaky = ose 8 Ono 1S) 0v8 “wm ARAM 2 LS Bogus OS

cS, OgoO. 8& ? omore290 »poeme 0 SES | gs Toms 4 525% 2Bw - SSFR REGS 5S Gif URS & Har-xzsraeao®y eHeowpntrerasaors® on ©N 0 aonPprawseQtsvs i Segre a sk poags& | &tit 8% & S3a =~vFcs w >2.-8Grseo Sp YVR oO, Z Qa ao oO Bem DYamMe -- OwEA 5U F's SAE 4 8es

Bae e SSE ZEEE Eee Pie a Svese eh YonHew eo - OM CK GK HeST SREeam CTa T'S eH &~-s or 3 Oo we Co ba CQ SL ~geais oOo Syst Sete weet grees Fe Ten mam s 3 2 = Am 8 a Naw & Soe we VYSesots) ~ - m™ 3gs=Eee v s& rr °® 68 Sm ese, users >geg RBoera#yZggsal @ c os aseo 8 > ZBG & Pon §< SO Se2n88ge8F acts + FoeaF

os U6 SUCCES. ¥OY Sf~ed CHE ganar & 'sS {1 co n YY Soa ff en S A oO QO an v SF Ow 4 GOA Sates & v Se > >Shoat 0 ev £ ne oO am! Oo &wn Pe Oo ws Aaeoodgs Aan ve 3 5 ne

3 4 SG 8 Le SETSe E 5" REAR SERS TCE ~ SS FTeax & .ret) eters one EEO eus 5.92YC: 27h e’ousn ed’ -& = S280 ane Sogh = «muo of &aeSma Ss o AQO 263:=GE Zw oo’? OY =a 82ego UYOD S 28eye oe & oO OQ = oe —~e g Y Soe 6 : oS Sy” Peemm RS_~ STERSLLIA ssEseuisesy §> ee$ee,k FoBu dD ESEE s¢g SEa°S GE ESSE rm} — -— yn om et ee CUCU sg roe) fas] ~Baeset tsesee SoZ gELSES awe rs OF SOMAess, SYS un Frese yferagerrte 6 a =€£ & DP +¥ = = GRR Os oD ~aGQr y= anf S oe SESERES ee eee s 2 S§SSS FE ORY — 5 . »Te YY ~Fos LL — om = =< &EE 2ECSPSyg feS ec Er gFErQessSaessgesy C5 Ye, SECHH 9° RET RR BG UG ED ac oa x Se Dp 6 Ff Pr we’ oOo Oo 2c 00 v o x & = OM 25 UO = ~ — = O nA

2. ZN Yo od c S en ae) wrt ras} SSE RZrt~EZGSL CLEA Mme SE v Peek EM, st

. cs q a) . hs _— a

. = ~ a) Oy os

N oe Yyb » >of Zw a Sea on Y Sg SMN s8S Ee 28S ete}§Y ts f=Ft VS Stee SS RLS EPyp EESSeer LT ROEE Seo BERR EET Bees HTM VELS

TT“ SUReRles SSSCEES SEZ, Fer gses ERA LSH F~e PL RZTHESR TRS92°58 SEAOn Y. Ea ep oe & & -~San .:: . Y Um ,. VO Ss “NI o) SN SDR ey, TVR F4e2cs4#tdu0 GE GS SER YK Sf .opRpete assesS >

= 3 ~ os ae SS ETI wD 52 @&FSoRtecenrss &LZHSCESG ees§ IS NN

N _ | . NI . ai : 22oars jen) ES nN o): aa. TO 5;‘ aa

— ON gS S E oi as

z, a < * of ~ “ C s x Y = SS x on Ss YU cB) ~ 2 a : gos ~ | YUus oF 7 ° Oo ak; 25ES ; ae SHE

|.: Eg _ = 3 * | i .8na| 7 jae

~ow ©alSE aQO 83BO .Oo vsONAN gS >Oo 6Ede Lee be SS oS -aC =§ aa) oH ‘e) oO aOs£2 aSeus * of < SB -£ AZ OS 'e a: 21S recs AN) ~ Zaz

=|-|

~ NN ON ™ 2 r Ow | eS Zo 4a & : Z,xZ ON : NS GSse=SERRE & SD Sal

ELS > Z2n8 asta a ae FE52 qo 8s “23 2oewo gys E2: 3° OQ Co Of2£ Of egos

SQ

mm Ss&e - Ss EoaiSoRFER OSE ae PES Sf 6 5 ODE B22SEs 8 SES

mk 8 8 ES. Sez8 eee EEE E28EGES s Ec = SESE s 2222822 RSE ECE GLEE SEescs: ; eo) “=(92 © SOY7 DH hpGees = a5: 2Smt 3 Gi eft=és‘5 Oo 8s OD PEC ESE Leib isi PEE SS? Os OS ea ess cv) Seo # aASeS gauss ae 2 See oS 3A sie E88 vs ao) S25 CESS et —

ee) © wont } 28 v eS 5 & A & : Ss 7 as OC . a 8 Gs Sy a5 5 O aU s ~ | 5 a 3 2 = O'S aL 'y =5

ic ; . ) 209 A|eom acecP wya.mm 56, &3 ES SEE 28 |Pp ae oo ESS 25 Se m™ one) Sg 2 : > Oo ©. ©=o zoD &ame ag 2=rE alee Es A TT

| 3 7 ol . oO 6 i vac uv

= YN _2 & © WN cs ae sd 0cf&.

. CO mH PN 2o> nm am HO wy | © sH a 35 L ID SO Oo — ; Oy 0 a CO I~ > og ra a o Oo 8 — moO]. Re a) ee ) aA a [I~ Se o1a = . “i = LZ7Aea ss W CO — oe) CO: — a ~a + Q,/ 29 ro NI” NrnoO“>oN HW. 2 HS EG ie) « “” Zl FZ ae 33 4a =.

oS : ,

~n = - bk

ue ae a Ec oe TELE Gas: Ba Ss & . :SEE cs eciy Zig SE ,,o) seis: m OSS .aa 6PS2e .O oy g a 2m sz a as} Sa S 28s e rr 3:; 2-; 2, Pgieabies oO OY Ooo m& Et g Be wo ao 2 E Ee 7 |i.ote) : er cd & ©be nee 8 o% wn ~~ es E : 3 Si SEEe Bx O ~ xoO Ee & + : : ae . =a aS F : 7 as &eFGE : 65 88 4 ees Es at = ag 8 2? a * PE BSE O fo) =i a7 » E 3 55 fs~9ame ai aL 3 & fe) "i OQ oh 9 60 é : 7:ep) NonXo) - |NI:;~ — ; NI -3 ON :“8 | cen

© 32 Ee age s 45 "Oo 5HS Peer ate oo es Specm ogee 0 d«CF ES ON reieuu 503S 5 :qAES ;& Aly ere om Sas©'aco) fe) © co)

6} . os )| ||:.Wen :oONI

S

XX

213

° o oF be aN i= a 8 6) mM .? 2 is Xg Pa mS Oo Ww of ‘ O & SH EES Z, ZAegNVES Zz 5OV Qe

Sae a Jiao : :Ae: -SBR :

c & S DS CTezoreoe &® Sg f#ERS SD 242858 gerwnHB ese D) mmsSs = exESE «=r MoS BD) nN wn

=A 8& Fo oof TH SS woe Bee ‘@) om ix yee aan) SEePSSES SESS ee GRE “~~ oO OC wD oO oO re Oo oO Oe ttEEE eH . eCeieeiyeised: gsi see yeasfg Eades vA x= . 855 ‘e)EE SZ yj) Sazse HSE BI SeSES eERE ESA ELE EEES S/SSRaLEZSS SSESSERE HS ELT ESS To) eSste ley gears Sau Sas soask OO

i an) © =

n>’=

n 7p) “5op) LT 9) % 5) jon oO

= oo x.....

o ©P>—oO 66E69 oO O SO S MS 66 oN @} SS = 6S a8 a8NI = —-_

o|lAILN dN ON ON
. ow =o -—~ LS ro8Q. Oo 9 YU Ss Oo, © A oOo o7> Hw Qe PE SAW Or

SZ Bo so » gon nN wv

—_ e om oe20 ZS SE ae .%. 7 ~ YD a “A ° ecto thm mae eg Ae BeO ZsEafEO -O SE s Zu feo 74 GO

ay of9 ve © Re Z ~ 2a ay cS Fe "8a ops

ee &sekwu - YW

S>a

GES Hy ES Senses s So he 5D w 2 Oo Ay 383 SC—=*Eg ptm oP OF OG se ot ae ® m 1. VG

Tra S Gf SoH er A S| Cee a) =

oMF FES kYeae sf gt eH UDosa GEE CN SG§Sone £8

Cn Fe Mo vo°’na’or &yw pbSS USm= ou w SoFT SCKR SoreGRO p, Ss pL.YH REDS = 4Oy =

Sse S88 EB SOCRZA eS | sas Ags

COUOFLZe afBes sta FOOtM tT LARSEMEL: SOR | SEE Oo1x72 f &SB c28

. EO 2 m Ss .-. “, -— ~~ DY nm = c aaa Oc & = L TY go EA 6 2po SWnCFcd. aif 9° om pI x ° ne) o|arogynt 2 Zopredck ss G =Oem VZlssoegee ¥sg O| 2ofStEsg “= OO OeEY B'S :¥° O=esl 2 Ee Be aT Ce, UvTSY eo ke & A. Ss lug egte oy jae 0Tress PsGe oo - . a»jaw =ameFn m= Bos TU se Ogeee FMS eas ® SZBp GORSH ES bon ya ace l & ar 5 on sk S$ 504 NI = D9) San,PFgs L &

— —— es) rt Cc He O° Or Y

as 90 5 NI ad wo cS, : > >— 5 Sea Ree eyg oN Se we kstt ee — re=t BP es Sw

deo S BASSE oO ee) GD ~ 0 =a Dp & 215

n &N a N es | 5 eo 10) © ~H Ss “A @ ‘eo)aoN 3 ~ SS 2 ° oO § on CS 0 € Ss

bas > Ae ba)

Spe tee ES 26 = & CEs ras) oO, 1s _ . x, EIN ENS Ga me SH sae ae ec gH SoH

o a © Oy. 5 48 2 io es AF = AR = oo 2 ALY Bis ake Dy

‘3 OO

2 qm IN & = .Ew 1 = A ; =2s1bopad a “eo fF CF

On PSba4 te COR WA TAs, FY"SS Ye = WY CA ce OFT O'S WOM Omecg Vv eS yo & FS ‘2 of Sp mB o aOo ¢ Fn ¢ Ow & St > oe MO =a & caf < om Oo & Dae “eos Eo CO Vong ¢ o ‘3S ~aVia si O's oMtw OQ soSe eee Qosys =o go pe gy meson es EPgeeaa G88 bees ages CSese'o eaES s&s o ghgPassi Bo S52 geMme £2 Ses S|) 22 5°8 VE SESE Logg ezacs o| as Se & HZ Oo & SSeoSsk ska Gob Sg e\S2, ese eS S/S5 285 82 828 S28 eSh4¢2 esEFe 2258 §84a3 NN) aH & & um

Yu a =)2S4oO 60 t “ x NI i

“~ e)

Co)

~ fo) at wa B) 20 ae oO Yas 72) SBog eGSw ~Ww &ba nm OS A YEY SW K a. Oo GS. ssamoo ya SM HM 25s aHi fy

© pt ome - Zh .

is Ri, ee 8%Seb “6264 ¢ Se Ee§D+ 4a.2 & 5 >a 2252 228 5m 5 PSs,

H ~ OI

Vv ) S ¢ E E . . vp) “ a n” < 5 On oO. 1B 7 O .Sn a Ssa0 5S 5 GO ODaS 4 oO Hl FS 5 3| 5 5 sz seep 88 oe ; fn ofa Pt alas ~ee~s Ki |: 2aOU Sa hewes > ORa> ae o©

P| & ww we “wD Se SY ~ Go

5 rs Ses 1 St 2 < 5 o 2 Sy z |©e/~ > a Ee am S S ~ ore CO SS é5 $8 = © =~ & w . Oy od ,oF O.4RO Qi . -0 Oo Oy

a“ wn “ wn ~ we el BE ) vu @ 5 oo a] ct a 6 c a oO Oo} 2 Qe Qs ‘= S on =| og Og oT Ss nm = os af eS H 6 is 2 fo] is He

aa a ay . :

5 UO as ~ Vo VP or Yaa Oo 7 A 6 4 4 o To a) Ar Os —_ S afa} qa cea gy oS OO SB Of Sea sZ Za RPo Oo © Vc@ Temes erz Hv es =o © QO On 5 Get aoa og & ‘= gy O m= eveagroxr ees te BS ee = ~S gw TT VekNS qe} “ yo Y ws 2 Oo ore GD EP ‘o) OC) ON —]< OFSU's ~~ OO 8§oO i Sd . el €e sD cs vo 6 = Pine 5 SEG CauoC gD ow segecEot EF =O oo Od 2 oO s = om TO > o S/ESSS 2589258 ge SSBF SS ECR es €O8 oi ¢ Ssest Ss eo taese se eee eases S| Su a mM a = © a 3.0 aay

A}SPSAS FO5ESH HE SHEED SES STC ELSRZES S

©

c

‘a 2 > > > oe] e| 8 & e & 7 S 4|al4 = = = = = w O ~~ oo Ss > oe rH oy oO oo oO a s 222

| ad .. “Oo NI ~ . 8) a ¢ a)

oo) *

Ct ~

Cw a eg c, = co O° i=0 os 2