Rise of a Dynasty: Unveiling the Plantagenets (Part 5) - Bad King John
Welcome to the latest installment in our discovery of the Plantagenets! Join me as we traverse the tumultuous reign of a monarch whose infamy precedes him - that of Bad King John.
Inheriting a legacy of grandeur and expectation, John was thrust into a position of unparalleled power. Sadly for him, though, he stumbled, faltered, and ultimately failed to live up to the legacy of his forebears. Within the chaos of his rule lie tales of defiance, brutality, murder and rebellion. From the shadowed corridors of medieval power to the windswept battlefields where men clashed in defiance of tyranny, John’s story is one that has divided historians for decades and continues to do so even today.
John, born at Beaumont Palace in Oxfordshire on the 24th of December in 1166, emerged into the world as the youngest son of a lineage steeped in power and prestige. His father, the indomitable Henry II, and his formidable mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, bestowed upon him a heritage that shimmered with promise. Yet, despite his illustrious lineage, John's path to greatness seemed shrouded in uncertainty from the outset. While his brother's destinies were mapped out for them, Henry as King of England, Richard, Duke of Aquitaine and Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany, John found himself without a clear inheritance, earning him the moniker "John Lackland." In this exploration of his tumultuous reign, I aim to look at significant points of his reign, leading into the next blog which covers the most crucial event of his reign – that of the signing of Magna Carta.
In the beginning
John's reign began amidst a whirlwind of conflict and controversy. With the untimely demise of his brother in April 1199, the stage was set for a succession struggle unlike any other. Two contenders emerged, each laying claim to the throne through differing legal interpretations. Norman law favored John as the sole surviving son of Henry II, garnering support from the English and Norman nobility. Conversely, Angevin law backed the 15-year-old Arthur, progeny of John's elder brother Geoffrey, rallying the Breton, Maine, and Anjou nobles, along with King Philip Augustus of France.
As we delve into the intricacies surrounding John's ascent to the throne, we're met with a tapestry of complexity. The vast Angevin Empire, belied a fragility that simmered beneath its surface. While many regions pledged fealty to the English crown, their allegiance was often tempered by distinct histories, traditions, and autonomous governance structures. Journeying southward, the grip of English authority grew increasingly tenuous, giving rise to a mosaic of disparate influences.
Richard's tumultuous reign, marked by the fervor of the crusades and the weight of his own ransom, left the crown bereft of wealth and mired in tension. Compounding this strain was the intricate web of vassalage, with much of the Angevin realm held in fealty to Philip Augustus, the King of France. Phillip, ever vigilant in his quest to undermine English influence, perceived in John a monarch of diminished strength compared to his predecessors.
Following his coronation, John cast his gaze across the channel, seeking a campaign base in the fortified bastions of Normandy, the stoutest bulwark of his continental holdings. Since the Norman Conquest, the English monarch had borne the title of Duke of Normandy, a mantle that Richard attempted to solidify following his release from captivity. Yet, despite strategic fortifications like Château Gaillard and Château de Falaise, neither side gained significant ground, fostering a stalemate that left both parties eager for respite. Thus, in a bid for reprieve, John and Philip met at Le Goulet in May 1200, negotiating a treaty that sought to quell the simmering animosity. Unfortunately, peace proved to be short-lived as John's impulsive union with Isabella of Angoulême in August 1200 reignited the flames of conflict. Snatching her from her intended betrothed, Hugh IX de Lusignan, John set off a diplomatic conflagration that would reverberate across the continent. With tensions once more boiling over, England and France found themselves ensnared in the throes of war, with Philip Augustus lending support to the young Duke of Brittany, further entangling the fractious landscape of medieval politics.
Death of Arthur I, Duke of Brittany
Amidst the chaos of conflict, John's mother Eleanor, by this time, in her 80th year, attempted to intercede, journeying from Fontevraud Abbey to Poitiers to halt Arthur's advance. Yet, her efforts were thwarted when her grandson caught up with her at Château de Mirebeau and laid siege to the castle. In a daring move, John swiftly deployed his mercenary forces to relieve the siege, securing a decisive victory and capturing both Arthur and his sister, Eleanor of Brittany. Arthur's fate, however, remains a mystery. Despite being imprisoned initially at Château de Falaise and later at Rouen under the care of William de Braose, his disappearance after April 1203 remains unexplained.
There is much speculation regarding his demise, with whispers of John's involvement echoing through history. The story becomes even darker still with the tragic fate of William de Braose’s wife Maude. Now during these turbulent times, it was not wise for a woman to be outspoken and certainly not wise to earn the enmity of the king, but unfortunately for the de Braoses, Maude did just that. After a quarrel with the king, William fled with his family to Ireland where William decided his best option was to disappear into exile out of the reach of an enraged king, leaving his wife to suffer the consequences. Maude and her son William were apprehended and brought back to England. Imprisoned in the depths of Corfe Castle, they met a cruel end, succumbing to starvation in a chilling act of vengeance. It was this heinous act that prompted Clause 39 in the Magna Carta - a defiant declaration against arbitrary imprisonment and unchecked royal power.
Loss of Continental Lands
John's hold in France seemed to be strengthened by his triumph at Mirebeau, bolstered further by the allegiance of newfound allies who abandoned Arthur's cause to flock to John's banner. Yet, true to form, John's own actions proved to be his undoing. In a realm where kinship ties ran deep among the regional nobility, John's harsh treatment of prisoners taken during the siege swiftly eroded his hard-won gains. The abysmal conditions in which rebel leaders were kept, resulting in the deaths of twenty-two, stirred outrage among their kin, leading to a mass defection from John's camp. Meanwhile, Brittany simmered with rebellion, with John finding himself financially strained and outmaneuvered by Philip's swift mobilization of resources.
It was then, in the midst of this turmoil, that whispers circulated of John's fateful decision to kill Arthur, perhaps in a bid to eliminate a potential rival to the throne and solidify his grasp on power. As 1203 drew to a close, John's predicament worsened, his attempt to relieve the impregnable Château Gaillard thwarted by Philip's strategic acumen. Despite John's innovative military maneuvers, Philip's relentless advance forced John into retreat, culminating in the devastating plunder of Brittany. Meanwhile, Philip, a master of patience and cunning, steadily eroded Angevin authority along the Norman border, laying the groundwork for the empire's collapse.In a desperate bid to salvage his waning fortunes, John retreated back across the channel in December, sadly though, Château Gaillard would fall to Phillip on the 6th of March 1204. The subsequent passing of his mother, the formidable Eleanor of Aquitaine, less than a month later, dealt a personal blow to John, sapping his resolve. Philip wasted no time in pressing his advantage, swiftly subduing the duchy with minimal resistance. By August, John found himself stripped of all continental possessions save for Aquitaine, a stark testament to the swift and relentless erosion of Angevin power.
John as a Military Leader
John's reputation as a less-than-pleasant character often colors our perception of his military prowess. However, upon closer examination of certain episodes in his reign, a different picture begins to emerge—one of a clever strategist with a knack for innovative warfare.
Dubbed 'Softsword' by contemporary chroniclers for his willingness to pursue peace with France, John's aversion to pitched battles was not uncommon in an era where the costs of warfare were astronomically high, regardless of the outcome. Instances of military leaders seeking peace abound throughout history; even the illustrious Richard the Lionheart negotiated a truce with Saladin during the Third Crusade, with no accusations of cowardice tarnishing his legacy. In contrast to his reputation, John displayed a fervent commitment to siege warfare, a trait reminiscent of his father and brother.
From the ruthless dismantling of the walls of Le Mans in 1200 to the lightning-fast assault on Mirabeau to relieve Eleanor, John's military acumen shone through. His innovative tactics, such as the simultaneous land and water assault to relieve Château Gaillard, showcased his strategic brilliance, even in the face of defeat. The Battle of Bouvines, often depicted as a failure, saw John's twin-pronged invasion successfully achieve its primary objective of dividing French forces, demonstrating his ability to think strategically on the battlefield. Moreover, his crowning achievement, the ingenious siege of Rochester Castle in 1215, where he employed pig fat to undermine the walls, speaks volumes of his tactical prowess.
One often overlooked aspect of John's military strategy was his astute recognition of the importance of naval power. Widely regarded as the founder of the English navy, John's foresight in bolstering maritime defenses proved crucial in the wake of territorial losses. With the fall of Normandy and territories along the Loire, John realized the necessity of safeguarding sea routes to vital regions like Bordeaux, particularly after the loss of overland access to Aquitaine. Leveraging his administrative prowess, John directed resources towards shipbuilding, spearheading the construction of new vessels outfitted with cutting-edge design innovations, including the development of large transport ships. As a result, John not only fortified England's maritime capabilities but also laid the groundwork for future naval dominance.While history may paint John as a military failure, a closer examination reveals a leader whose strategic ingenuity deserves recognition. Despite the challenges he faced, John's military exploits demonstrate a resourcefulness and resilience that defy easy characterization.
The First Baron’s War
While tensions between John and his barons had been simmering for years, it was the outbreak of the First Baron's War, officially spanning from 1215 to 1216 in historical records, that marked the culmination of discontent. The catalyst for this seismic shift in power dynamics was the resounding defeat at the Battle of Bouvines and the subsequent collapse of John's final bid to reclaim Normandy—a watershed moment that proved to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
Many of the disaffected barons hailed from the north of England, far removed from the conflict in France. Watching vast sums of money squandered on failed campaigns overseas, coupled with John's reputation for cruelty, pettiness, and arbitrary decision-making, left them increasingly disillusioned. The simmering tensions were made worse by John's contentious relationship with the Church, including a period of excommunication, which only served to fuel the flames of dissent. However, it was John's flagrant disregard for accountability and his habit of making life-and-death decisions without consultation that ultimately pushed the barons over the edge. Faced with mounting opposition, John attempted to placate the rebels while biding his time for explicit support from Pope Innocent III. By the time he sought reconciliation, it was too late—the barons had renounced their allegiance, rallying under the leadership of Robert Fitz Walter.
Their swift march on London, followed by the capture of the cities of Lincoln and Exeter, left John with little choice but to accede to their demands. Thus, on the 15th of June 1215, amidst the verdant fields of Runnymede, John found himself reluctantly signing a document that would forever alter the course of English history.
As we conclude this chapter, it's important to recognize that the story of John and the First Baron's War is merely a prelude to a pivotal moment in history—the signing of the Magna Carta. Delving into the intricacies of this iconic charter warrants a blog of its own, given its profound impact on the course of governance and human rights. Join me in the next installment as we unravel the layers of significance behind the Magna Carta, exploring its origins, clauses, and enduring legacy.
If you found this account intriguing, stay tuned for Part 6 of my ‘Rise of a Dynasty - Unveiling the Plantagenets’ series, where we further explore the reign of King John and the subsequent road to Magna Carta. Subscribe to our Contact Us page to receive notifications of future blog posts.
Max
King John’s Tomb Roy Pederson-Dreamstime Images, Beaumont Palace Plaque, Château de Falaise Creative Commons/Public Domain, Rochester Castle, Château Gaillard and Lincoln Castle Walls - © Plantagenet Discoveries
