Six unfairly obscure medieval villains

Well, sure. Just like many other medieval monarchs :D. Really most of them come off as assholes by contemporary standards - temperamental, greedy, egotistical. Was John worse than average? A bit I’d say, hence some of his political difficulties - he was far to often petty and spiteful, when he needed to be diplomatic or conciliatory. But he was also quite competent in a number of respects and arguably he has been vilified by history well beyond his actual unattractive characteristics due to his failures.

Edward I was a cold, unloving parent, had a particularly vicious temper, totally mismanaged his French campaign, screwed the pooch at Lewes, expelled the Jews from England for 350 years, very nearly ended up in yet another civil war with his barons in 1297 and left England virtually destitute ( ~200,000 pounds in debt ) and in a disturbed state on his death. Yet he is celebrated as a great king largely because of the final conquest of Wales and his partial successes in Scotland.

Meanwhile some of John’s failings are less obvious if looked at more closely. For example the elopement with Isabelle of Angouleme seems foolish at first glance, but it was actually a very clever coup. The Taillefer family of Angouleme had long been a thorn in the side of the English crown and by this marriage he guaranteed the loyalty of their rich and strategic county, which would turn out to be vital in the later defense of Aquitaine. More over it prevented a prevented a brokered peace between the Taillefers and their other old rivals the Lusignans, thus playing the Poitevin barons against each other and preventing a junction of their interests against his. Meanwhile the Taillefers were an altogether wealthier and more important ally than the Lusignans. John’s failure was not in usurping the bride per se, but in treating Hugh le Brun with contempt in the aftermath, instead of smoothing things over.

John wasn’t a nice guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I’d argue that he wasn’t significantly crueler or more venal than his contemporaries. Heck, he was his father’s favorite and his brother loved him :wink: ( really - Richard I seems to have been fond of him, even after John’s short-lived rebellion ).

Now Thomas of Marle

I know its portrayal of William Wallace was pure fantasy, but what did you think of Braveheart’s portrayal of Longshanks? In that movie, he sure looked like a scarily bloody and amoral medieval king to me. When he confronts his son after returning from France, you can see the latter almost literally pooping his pants, and I’m sure I’d do the same if I had that kind of father towering over me.

I actually haven’t seen it yet :). I keep meaning to watch it, but I still haven’t gotten around to it. Partly inertia, partly I’m unsure if I’ll like it because of details I’ve heard ( the whole thing they put in with the Princess Isabella and William Wallace makes me wince - so unnecessary ) and its a long 2.5 hour commitment for a film I’m unsure of.

But I really should. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’ll check and see if it is available for streaming on the Roku.

Mississippienne, this is good stuff. If you have a blog on such things, I would definitely subscribe to its feed.

Nah, I’m thinking it was just a funny way to phrase that they just plain old killed him. See also: murder by death.

As Tamerlane said, I am fairly sympathetic to John while at the same time acknowledging he was, indeed, a paranoid, greedy little snot. He certainly had his villainous side, and might’ve made the list if not for being too infamous, though. King John is my favorite Plantagenet and maybe the most complex and interesting of his family, and you could even see him as a tragic figure in the classical sense – a man with a lot of natural talent who is brought low by a combination of bad luck and his fatal flaws.

As for shady – his contemporary and rival Philippe Auguste of France defined the word ‘shady’. I’d like to point out that in John’s defense, when he divorced his first wife, Isabel of Gloucester, she continued living with him for about seven years afterwards and he lavished ridiculous sums of money on her. John probably only divorced her in the first place because they’d been childless for all ten years of their marriage and as king he badly needed an heir. Philippe Auguste ditched his second wife, Ingeborg of Denmark, immediately after the wedding, and shut her up in convents for years afterward for having the audacity to protest him dumping her and trying to replace her with a bigamous third wife.

  1. Marozia di Roma.

If you’ve heard Marozia’s name at all, it was probably as a footnote to the legend of Pope Joan, a fable about a woman who crossdressed and became pope, only to be found out when she went into labor and gave birth. Marozia and her family may have inspired the legend, but much like Vlad Dracula, the true story is far more interesting than the legend.

Marozia was lover, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother of popes. She forged an empire with little more than her wiles and her thighs, and her descendants would rule Rome for centuries, making and breaking popes, and influencing the politics and history of the Western world.

Marozia was the daughter of the senator Teofilatto and his wife, Theodora. Her father was a crony of Pope Sergius III and quite possibly the most powerful man in Rome. Luitprand of Cremona says that “from her early youth, [Marozia] had been inflamed by the fires of Venus”; Marozia set her sights on none other than the pope himself. She flashed him her tits, and soon Sergius III was shacked up with her in happily unwedded bliss. Marozia gave birth to a son, Giovanni, who was widely believed to have been fathered by Sergius III 1.

Sergius III, who was probably about the same age as Marozia’s father, died in 911. Marozia’s parents married her off to a soldier-of-fortune, Alberico, who a few years earlier had killed the duke of Spoleto and usurped his lands and title. He was immensely powerful and just as ambitious as Marozia 2 and together they had a small pack of children.

Meanwhile, her mother Theodora became enamoured of a deacon and, “captivated by his handsome appearance”, she seduced him and compelled him to come to Rome. “Theodora, like a harlot,” Luitprand tells us, “fearing she would have few opportunities to bed her sweetheart, forced him to abandon his bishopric and take for himself – O monstrous crime! – the Papacy of Rome.” Her lover became Pope John X in 914.

Marozia and Alberico schemed to take more power for themselves. They got on the bad side of Pope John X, who drove Alberico from the city, and shortly afterward Alberico was murdered by Romans who suspected him of conspiring with the Hungarians. Pope John X forced Marozia to look at the mutilated body of her husband and take heed; that just seems to have pissed her off.

Marozia turned right around and married Guido of Tuscany in 925. They moved against Pope John X, seized him and threw him into prison, where he was then smothered. Marozia then hand-picked a couple of guys to be pope for the next couple of years until her own son, Giovanni, was old enough to put on the funny hat and become Pope John XI 3.

Her husband Guido having died in 929, and with Marozia not content with merely being a dowager duchess, a dowager marchesa, and the mother of the pope, she decided to go for broke and become queen of Italy. She became engaged to King Hugo of Italy, a marriage that was technically illegal since his half-brother was her deceased second husband, Guido. But that’s what having a pope in the family is good for.

Pope John XI presided over his mother’s wedding in 932 at the Castel Sant’Angelo, but the celebrations were marred by a conflict between Hugo and Marozia’s teenage son, Alberico II 4. During the ceremony, Alberico was holding a bowl of water for Hugo to wash his hands, but spilled a little of it. Hugo slapped him in the face and called him “clumsy”, and the offended Alberico fled the wedding and incited a riot in the streets. The Romans rallied behind him and attacked the Castel Sant’Angelo. Hugo bravely abandoned his wife and shimmied out the window on a rope, leaving Marozia and Pope John XI behind. Alberico and his army of angry Romans drove out Hugo and his men by throwing sticks, stones, shoes, calzones, and anything else at hand at their heads. Eighteen-year-old Alberico II imprisoned his mother and brother and declared himself “glorious prince and senator of all the Romans.” He also added insult to injury by banging his stepsister Alda, King Hugo’s daughter who had also been left behind when her father fled Rome 5.

Marozia died in prison. Her son Pope John XI was allowed to perform purely spiritual duties until his own death in 935. Alberico ably ruled Rome until he died in 954, and on his deathbed he nominated his own son, Ottaviano, as pope.

Ottaviano, son of Alberico II and Alda, became Pope John XII, and continued the proud family tradition by becoming one of the most depraved popes in history. A small sampling of the charges against him in the Patrologia Latina include: ordaining a bishop in a horse stable, blinding and then killing his confessor, castrating and then killing a subdeacon, fornicating with various women including his own niece, turning the sacred palace into a brothel, invoking the names of pagan gods, and toasting to the devil with wine, among many, many others. He died while busily breaking Commandments Six and Nine with a married woman; her husband walked in on them and brained him with a hammer.

Several more popes of this family were to follow, but I definitely don’t want to forget Marozia’s great-great-grandson, Pope Benedict IX, the so-called “child pope” (he was very young when he became pope, probably in his mid-teens). Benedict IX was the nephew of popes Benedict VIII and John XIX. By the time he became pope in 1033, the papal throne was practically a family heirloom. Benedict IX spent his reign snorting blow off the pert asses of whores, throwing wild bisexual orgies in the Lateran palace, and raping female pilgrims 6. He surprised everyone by falling in love with his own cousin and desiring to marry her and produce a family of little deviants. Since a pope can’t exactly get married, Benedict IX sold the papacy to his godfather, but later regretted the decision and tried to forcibly retake his old position several times. He is the only pope to have been pope on three seperate ocassions, and the only pope to have sold the papacy 7.

Such was the legacy of Marozia, who’s descendants made and unmade emperors and kings and guided the souls of millions.

Footnotes:

  1. Sergius III’s other accomplishment was digging up the mutilated corpse of Pope Formosus, putting it on trial, finding him guilty posthumously, and beheading him.
  2. No minor achievement.
  3. As the son of Marozia and Pope Sergius III, Pope John XI is the only illegitimate son of a pope to become pope himself.
  4. The eldest of several sons she’d had with her first husband, Alberico.
  5. And you thought your teenager was an annoying little shit because he plays video games in the basement all day. It can always get worse.
  6. He was born in the wrong era. He should’ve been a mulleted 1980s rock star.
  7. Peter Damian records a delightful story that Benedict IX, “a demon from hell in the guise of a priest”, was so evil that instead of dying he mutated into a donkey-bear-man creature cursed to haunt the world until the Last Judgment.

One really must take a moment to mention one of the names for this whole lovely episode with Marozia’s family. It is known to some historians as the Pornocracy.

It’s amazing how much more interesting Church history can get when you realize you’ll get to study something called the Pornocracy.

Indeed. The historical inspiration for Bluebeard.

When you think about the real-life inspiration for fictional characters…

Gilles de Rais-> Bluebeard
Vlad Tsepesh-> Dracula
Ed Gein-> Norman Bates
Peter Kurten-> Peter Lorre’s character in ‘M’

The true story is MUCH worse than the fiction.

Tho that is reversed when one considers Gein as also inspiring Jame Gumb from Silence of the Lambs and the Sawyer/Hackett families from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Touching upon the Coucys…in Barbara Tuchman’s book, A Distant Mirror, which focused upon Thomas’ father, she writes about the “persistent juvenility” of medieval leaders. So many of them had faults that were not only nasty, but characteristic of what we’d consider immature thought patterns – foremost among them poor impulse control, failure to consider consequences, failure to plan for the future, emotional outbursts and tantrums. Not to mention the full run of boastfulness, cruelty, selfishness, jealousy, and mood swings we associate with teenagers. They were young in many cases, but there’s more to it than that.

Tuchman wonders about it, at one point speculating that it might have stemmed from the lack of nurture they received during their short childhoods. By our standards, children were largely ignored during the period. I don’t know why, but I’d guess one contributing factor could be that the period’s high childhood mortality played a role in causing parents to keep some emotional distance from their mostly doomed offspring.

This is wonderful stuff. Keep it coming! :slight_smile:

I dunno if it was her or someone else, but one historian I read wrote that, childhood upbringing aside, many of the medieval rulers were in fact thrust into leadership positions when they were very young (as you note); combine that with a high level of accepted social drinking and a culture that put a premium on the use of force to settle disputes - and you get a society that has its tone set by what amounts to a bunch of drunken teenage gangsters.

As far as childhood upbringing goes, two conributing factors are the exensive use of wet-nurses for the high nobility - partly because of the need for quick birth-spacing - the itinerant nature of many courts and the fact that boys at least were often educated by being fostered off to someone elses’ court, and you had basically very little parental involvement.

One can speculate that the whole “courtly love” business was a self-concious attempt to civilize these violent gangsters from within. Certainly, its supporters seemed to think so.

I dunno if I’d describe his elopement as a “clever coup”. Certainly an added bonus from his POV was that it would throw a monkey wrench into his over-mighty subjects’ plans, but contemporary evidence (for what it is worth) is that the practical aspects of the plan were an afterthought - that he really was overcome by the lady’s underage charms and was determined to have her for himself, together of course with her vast inheritance. To his contemporaries, it simply looked like greed - for the girl and of course for her property.

As for being “clever”, the result was to permanently piss off not only the Lusignans, but to add fuel to many of his other vassals’ concerns about his acquisitiveness. Having pulled off this coup, he really ought to have neutralized the Lusignans somehow - but he failed to do that, even when given a golden opportunity when he captured them together with his cousin Arthur.

It was John’s problem throughout his reign that he was often harsh, and so hated, but was not respected and often not even really feared (or at least, not feared enough). He sort of fell between two stools. He would do something to piss people off, but not enough to destroy them as a threat. Moreover, he would often piss people off, not really for reasons of policy, but for reasons purely selfish or impulsive. The silliest example, admittedly very early in his career, was when he allegedly inspired a revolt in Ireland by pulling the Irish petty kings’ beards (or allowing his buddies to do so) just for fun …

Wow, Marozia was surely one of history’s greatest sluts.

Thank you very much for this magnificent article, Mississippienne. As others pointed out, pupils would pay a lot more attention in history class if stories like this were emphasized. :smiley:

I hope you can clear up a tedious detail for me. Googling “Crescentii Marozia” one sees lots of references that she was of the “Crescentii” family, e.g. at brittanica.com “[Pope John XI] was the son of Marozia (dominant lady of the Roman Crescentii family) perhaps by her reputed lover, Pope Sergius III.” But Wikipedia insists that the Crescentii were distinct from

What’s rather amazing (and makes me wonder if either I or Wikipedia is very confused) is that the two Wiki links in the above quote, for Tusculani and Theophylact, both lead to pages which mention Marozia not at all!

So what’s the Straight Dope? Was Marozia a Crescentii or not?

Lest someone assume septimus is completely confused (:cool:), let me mention that Mississippienne’s Teofilatto is aka Theophylact, and that the pages which do NOT mention Marozia, DO list the Popes Mississippienne mentions, calling them “Tusculan popes.” And I am not questioning Mississippienne’s story; instead it looks like some Wikipedia editor is trying to obfuscate or rewrite history.

(Sorry for posting twice instead of once. Flaky Internet connection made me miss the 5 minute Edit window. :smack: )

Several posters here have mentioned that history students would pay more attention if the “juicy bits” were mentioned more in history class.

When it comes to English lit I’ve said the same thing for a long time about Shakespeare. Instead of serious plays, introduce the students to the Bard by giving them one of his comedies, with the dirty jokes, cross-dressing, and fooling around. Measure for Measure is the play that made me like Shakespeare.

Also, my impression about King John’s bad historical reputation is due to the fact that he was not so much a bad king (i.e., a evil, despotic, and oppressive ruler) but a bad king (i.e., an in-over-his-head, ineffectual, and incompetent ruler). The Magna Carta was the product of the English nobility’s disgust with John’s overreaching and misrule.

I think it’s a combo. His actions (often cruel, selfish and paranoid) make him a “bad” king in the sense of a despotic ruler; however, as others above have pointed out, many of the rules considered “great” shared these characteristics, so obviously being “bad” can as it were be overlooked if one is successful … what gives him the bad rep is that he also appeared a “bad” king in terms of inept, blundering rule, which made commentators willing to emphasize his “badness” in terms of being nasty, rather than overlooking it.

And it is there where, perhaps, commentators are being unfair. John was in the unfortunate position of inheriting the huge Angevin empire, which his brother Richard (traditionally considered a “good” king of England, even though he was only in England for like six months, and then only to raise cash - and was just as “bad” in the sense of “oppressive” as his brother, if not worse) had pretty well bankrupted - first to pay for his crusade, and then to pay for his ransom, and then to pay for fighting off Philip …

Perhaps not even a genius could have saved the situation. John was no genius.

I think that was pretty much all I was trying to argue. It’s not that I really disagree with you about his disagreeableness, it’s just that I disagree that his disagreeability was a magnitude more disagreeable than his often quite disagreeable contemporaries.

As it were.

No, but as you note I think his supposed incompetence has been exaggerated even more than his mendacious character. In the end, John failed and failed badly - history is not kind to losers.

But he really was a fairly smart man, a capable administrator and a brave, competent soldier ( if certainly not in the same class as his elder brother ). He was quite capable of clever strategems ( as his nephew learned to his cost ) and the occasional adroit political maneouver. His problem was, as you quite correctly noted, a combination of financial weakness and being up against a genuine ruthless political mastermind in Philip Augustus, not for nothing considered one of the most successful French kings of all time.

But Bouvines was very close. A victory there and European history might have, in the short run at least, got stood on its head. John could have easily ended his days the dominant monarch in Europe and in popular histories his pecadilloes could have ended up being swept under the rug.

In the competition for least competent English king, I think someone like an Edward II has John beat by a mile. Though I’ll grant that personality-wise, from a more modern perspective at least, Edward does seem to have been altogether more likeable :).