89: Provence Part 1

Introduction:

“When the Good Lord begins to doubt the world, he remembers that he created Provence.”

-Frederic Mistral (quotes read by Bry of Pontifacts Podcast)

            It’s time we headed south for warmer weather. We’ve spent so much time covering the north that you might think that the entire rest of France was experiencing similar political, cultural and religious development. However, medieval Southern France took a dramatically different trajectory from the north. Nowhere was this more evident than in the first region we’ll look at: Provence.

At this time, Provence was a chunk of land that stretched to Arles on the Rhône River in the west and towards the contested city of Nice in the east. To the southwest were the salt marshes of Camargue while the south and southeast were split between sandy and rocky coastlines. The Alps dominated the eastern border. To the north were ranges of hills, which served as a blurry boundary as Provence’s rulers expanded or lost territory.

            Provence is a unique place in France; so much, that at times it wasn’t even in France! In 879, the Count of Provence declared himself king and attempted to rule a breakaway state. Later on, Provence was incorporated into the Kingdom of Burgundy and thus became part of the Holy Roman Empire.

            More than borders separated Provence from the rest of France. Its people spoke Provençal, which is a dialect of Occitan. Both Occitan and French originated from Western Romance languages but Occitan has fewer nasal sounds and more open vowel sounds, which makes it more similar to Italian and Spanish. Basically, Occitan is ‘Spicy French.’ While much of the clergy and nobility likely spoke enough French to communicate with northern lords, a peasant from Provence could not communicate to a Parisian in anything other than grunts and hand gestures; according to some Parisians this is still true today.

            The environment is also wildly different in Provence than in the north. The white sandy beaches of the south take in warm air from the Mediterranean. Today, much of the south is filled with palm trees. While the larger trees were imported from the tropics, the European dwarf palm has existed in the south since time immemorial.

            With all of these differences you might think Provence was a whole other country, and you wouldn’t be wholly wrong. Yet, Provence maintained deep connections to the rest of France. First, its geography limited other territories’ influence on it. The Alps separated Provence from Italy and the land which we call Switzerland today. Perhaps more importantly, it also kept the Holy Roman Empire far away, meaning that when it came under the empire’s power the emperor could only nominally rule Provence indirectly, through his subordinate, the ruler of Burgundy. These geographical barriers are commonly considered part of today’s modern ‘natural boundaries of France, which include the Pyrenees to the southwest, the Alps to the east and the Rhine River to the northeast, with open waters everywhere else.

Second, Provence was connected to France through history. As a consequence of its geography, the Romans created political provinces that connected this territory to the rest of Gaul. Coincidentally, this is where we get the name Provence, which comes from ‘provincia Romana.’ While the provinces that made up Gaul changed their borders, the Romans always recognized this area west of the Alps as a part of Gaul, not Italy. Between 260-274, a general named Postumus founded the Gallic Empire, which included Provence. When Diocletian split the empire during the Tetrarchy period, he included Provence in his allotment to the Caeser Constantius, father of Constantine the Great.

The fall of Rome might have portended a shift in Provence’s history; instead it was a continuation. Provence became part of the Frankish kingdom and later the Carolingian Empire. During the many splits this empire faced, the Franks always kept Provence within Western Francia. Finally, when Hugues Capet broke the west off from the rest of the empire entirely, he claimed kingship over this southeastern corner. These long traditions meant that Provence was always part of the political structure of France.

            Related to the last point is our third linkage between Provence and the Kingdom of France: familial networks. In the medieval period politics was personal. Alliances were based on marriage. As a part of the Kingdom of France, Provençal lords intermarried with the French aristocracy. Around the turn of the millennium, Constance of Arles married King Robert II of France, though that marriage proved unhappy as Robert II tried to divorce her and she likely had his close friend assassinated. Even after Provence came under Burgundy’s power, lords still intermarried with other Southern French, particularly those in the County of Toulouse.

While Provence was technically part of the Holy Roman Empire for around five centuries, it was arguably its most far-flung territory. Mountain ranges blocked easy travel from the German heartland, meaning Emperors took little interest in their southwestern borders. Simultaneously, the powerful Kings of France could and did regularly interfere in these lands, which they viewed alternatively as their own rightful territory or at least their own backyard. Finally, while northern Italy was rich enough that German lords would spend fortunes raising armies to subdue, the southwest was not as wealthy or populous for them to make the long and arduous trek through the Alps.

This is all to say that medieval politics are complex. There is no single flowchart that explains who was in charge in a European state around the year 1000. Countries formed when a powerful lord subdued all those in a set territory. Modern concepts of ethnicity, culture and language played far less of a role during this time. Additionally, lords often owed fealty to multiple overlords. While an aristocrat in Arles might technically be part of the Holy Roman Empire, he likely would never see the Emperor, visit Germany or render service to its ruler. Instead, he may have owed fealty to the Count of Toulouse or someone even further west. Thus, while on paper, Provence was a part of the Holy Roman Empire, the lived experiences of its aristocrats and clergy meant they were part of a nebulous area that was usually more connected to France.

            One final point of connection between France and Provence was religion. Provence was deeply connected to churches spread out across the rest of France. As we shall see, Provence was swept up in the Gregorian Reforms through its spiritual dependence on Cluny Abbey. This independent monastery zealously promoted a reorganization and revitalization of the church which swept through the south. Around the turn of the 13th century, many Provençal people adopted Catharism, which brought them into violent confrontation with northern French lords.

            In all of these ways, Provence was kept within France’s orbit. When Provence formally integrated into France around 1486, observers did not see this as one people conquering a foreign land, as was the case in the 16th and 17th centuries when French rulers annexed the German-speaking territories of Elsass-Lothringen, or Alsace-Lorraine. Instead, politicians recognized Provence’s incorporation as the nigh-inevitable absorption of a region overwhelmingly under French influence.

            Now that I’ve argued for the Frenchness of Provence, let’s begin.

Chapter 1: Dreams of a Kingdom

“Men are like fish; the great ones devour the small.”

-Provençal proverb

            Our story begins at the turning point of the Carolingian Empire. Louis I “The Pious,” inherited the empire from his father, Charlemagne in 814. While Louis I attempted to rule his vast holdings, his sons frequently rebelled, impatient to rule their own realm and desiring the largest share of it. These civil wars drained the strength of the Carolingian nobility and opened the door for lesser houses to take a throne, if not THE throne. While the most famous rulers came from House Otto in Germany and House Capet in France, other houses attempted, and even briefly held, the titles of king or even emperor. Enter the House Boson.

            House Boson derives its name from its founder Boson the Elder and from the many figures who carried on his name. In English, the name is ‘Boso.’ ‘Boso’ was a respectable name at the time, yet soon came to mean a naïve or stupid person after Anselm of Canterbury wrote a book in which he had to constantly correct Boso’s simplistic theological beliefs. You’ll just have to listen and find out if any of these people are real bozos or not.

            Boson’s grandson Boson, you should be used to duplicate names by now, was deeply embedded in Charles the Bald’s services. Boson became the ostiarius of Western Francia, tasked with preparing the royal household for war. He was also the royal chamberlain in Aquitaine, archminister of the palace and even acted as a representative to the pope. Boson even arranged for Charles the Bald to marry his sister, Richilde. In exchange, he married Ermengarde, Charles’ niece and the daughter of Emperor Ludwig II. Over the course of his career, Boson acquired the County of Vienne and expanded his holdings in Provence.

When Louis II the Stammerer died in 879 his eldest son, you’ll never guess his name…Louis III, was just shy of 15 and thus could not rule in his own right. Powerful magnates supported by the King of Germany rebelled against the underage monarch. The following year, to stabilize the kingdom, Louis III decided to rule over the north while his younger brother Carloman II governed the south.

Boson sensed weakness and made his move. He declared his candidacy for kingship across the realm. Historian Constance Bouchard postulates that the Count of Vienne may have originally believed that he could become king of West Francia entirely. After all, his mother-in-law was empress of the Holy Roman Empire and his wife Ermengarde was the powerful daughter of the deceased King of Italy and claimant to the title of Emperor, Luigi II. If Boson thought he might be king of the west he was soon disappointed as most Franks remained faithful to the Carolingians. Only the bishops of Burgundy and Provence declared for him, alongside a small cabal of the region’s nobility. Thus, the Kingdom of Provence first came into existence.

            As much as the Carolingian rulers hated each other, they could not tolerate competition from a rival house. For a century, Carolingian monarchs had been the only accepted rulers by the aristocracy. The mere existence of another legitimate power meant that the leaders of any noteworthy house might make a play for throne, crown and scepter. Since Pope John VIII depended on Frankish support, the Carolingians coaxed him into sanctifying war against Boson. Even Boson’s own brother, Richard the Justiciar, recognized that Boson was in trouble and joined the fight against him.

            The war rapidly turned against Boson, who lost Mâcon and Lyon to his brother. The Carolingians then congregated at his stronghold of Vienne, the last territory the supposed king held, and besieged it. After a few months the Carolingians abandoned the siege, as they had more pressing matters to attend to. For the remainder of his life, Boson struggled to maintain his hold over the County of Vienne, even as his brother continued the war against him. Their conflict only ended in 887 when Boson died, survived by his seven-year-old son, Louis.

            Fate took a sharp turn in the young Louis’ favor. In 887, Louis’ mother Ermengarde took the boy to the court of her cousin and emperor, Charles the Fat. There, she convinced him to informally adopt Louis. Now a ‘Carolingian,’ sort of, Louis was free to claim the throne of Provence where his mother ruled as regent until he reached adulthood. Louis’ realm was a shadow of his father’s initial kingdom, one which the last Carolingians decided to overlook as they were busy fighting Vikings, Muslims and their own rebellious nobility.

In 888 Charles the Fat died, the last ruler of a unified empire. As the Carolingian house failed, the realms split apart as self-assured lords declared themselves king. For ten years, Odo of the Robertians ruled as King of West Francia. This weak king hardly left the north and did not give Provence a second thought. Likewise, Berengario I declared himself King of Italy and spent his entire reign countering the Italian nobility, rather than invading the west.

While Richard the Justiciar had served the Carolingians when they were strong, their sudden weakness caused him to reverse his previous political stances. He married Adelaide of Burgundy and supported his brother-in-law Rodolphe when he declared himself King of Burgundy. Richard supported his nephew’s claim to the throne in Vienne, seeing the smaller and weaker Kingdom of Provence as a valuable vassal of Burgundy. Near the end of his life, Richard acquired the title Duke of Burgundy, the duchy of Burgundy being a region in France while the Kingdom of Burgundy was an independent kingdom. Sounds confusing, but then again, there is the country of Mexico and the US state of New Mexico, so if you can wrap your head around that, it shouldn’t be too hard to accept that Burgundy used to be split with its western part as a French duchy and its eastern part a kingdom.

            The Kingdom of Provence looked like it would finally stabilize under Ermenegarde’s regency, as a quaint little post-Roman state with good weather and moderate wealth. The nobles were not any more rebellious than anywhere else, and while Provence was under the power of the Kingdom of Burgundy, this also meant it was under Burgundy’s protection. Unfortunately, a new threat landed on Provence’s shores that served as a festering wound for almost a century.

In 887 Muslim mujahadeen landed at Fraxinetum, an old Roman coastal fort. Using the stronghold as their center of power, they set up their own ribat in the southeastern coast. Mudahim, meaning ‘raiders,’ sacked towns and churches across West Francia, Italy and even into what is today Switzerland and Germany. If you want to learn more about them, listen to episode 67: Jihad in Provence. What’s important for us to know is that when Louis came of age around 895 he inherited a minor holy war. King Louis launched an invasion of Islamic territories but was never able to fully dislodge them. Part of this was because he never fully committed to ending the Muslim presence on the fringes of his kingdom. These raiders were an annoyance but not a threat to his power, unlike some of the great magnates of his kingdom. Moreover, if the mudahim harassed the territory of an upstart vassal…well, that didn’t make them allies, but Louis could always look the other way if it benefitted him.

            In the year 900, Louis received news that he could add a second, far more valuable crown to his head, and perhaps even the title of ‘Emperor.’ That year, messengers from northern Italy invited him to take the throne at Pavia. The Kingdom of Italy, as the north was called, had been in an on-and-off state of civil war since…well, a long time. Rival lords constantly jockeyed for power, with Berengario I taking the Iron Crown of Lombardy in 887. Many nobles never accepted his rule and the Italian monarch spent the next thirteen years warring against his own vassals. Berengario I lost multiple times, and at one point was even captured, though the lord who captured him suddenly died shortly thereafter, conveniently allowing the king to maintain his title. In the midst of these civil wars, the Magyars raided from the east while Muslims raided from the south. Italy was in chaos…more than usual. Desperate for some competent authority who possessed enough soldiers to beat back the foreign threats, the northern Italian nobility begged Louis of Provence to take the throne.

            Louis did not need their pleading; the messengers had barely finished when he got on his horse and led an army across the Alpine passes. While many Italians likely viewed Louis as a foreigner, the king of Provence probably thought that he was going home. After all his father was a duke in Italy, as was his great-grandfather. Though the family holdings had shifted westward, Louis could still claim the right to rule.

            Louis caught Berengario I at a particularly low moment, forcing him to flee. With little to no fighting, Louis took Pavia and with it, the Iron Crown of Lombardy. The following year, in 901, he led an entourage to Rome, where Pope Benedict IV gave him the title of Emperor. At this point, the title was largely ceremonial. The Kingdom of Italy only comprised most of the northern half, containing neither the south nor the Papal States. Yet, it was still a prestigious title, and one which gave Louis the pedigree he needed to secure a betrothal to Anna, daughter of the Eastern Roman Emperor Leo VI. However, I need to note that due to a lack of records, historians are still unsure of whether or not the betrothal resulted in a marriage or if Louis married another woman named Anna from a lesser house.

            Anything a person can gain with ease, they can lose just as easily. The Magyars continued their attacks into Italy as Louis looked on helpless to stop them. The Italian nobility quickly soured on the foreign king and dropped their support for him. Berengario I raised another army and routed Louis. The original King of Italy took back the storied crown which once adorned Charlemagne’s gigantic head. As befitting a Christian lord, the Italian spared the Provençal so long as he swore never to return.

            For three years, Louis brooded in Provence…which is strange to think about it, given how most people enjoy their time there in the sun-kissed lands of warmth, wine and the best mix of French and Italian culture. Yet, Louis was furious that he had gone from Emperor to just a minor king. He continued to style himself ‘Emperor,’ if not for his own ego, then as a means of justifying his marriage to the daughter of an Eastern Roman Emperor. There are quite a few ways to disappoint a woman, such as not being as tall or as wealthy as you claim; it must be quite a turnoff to expect an emperor and find out your blind date is a king of a few valleys.

During this time, Berengario I consistently fought against the Magyars with limited success. It was during this three-year reign that the Italian nobility remembered how much they hated old Barry, and a few of them decided to give Louis another try. Louis again leapt at the opportunity and rapidly marched into Italy. Again, Louis took Pavia, yet this time he had far less support. As much as the Italians hated their own king, they had lost confidence in the new one from Provence.

            Unabated, Louis continued his eastward trek towards Verona. Meanwhile, Berengario I’s army was weak and so he fled, leaving the city open to invasion. After Louis took the city the disgruntled locals sent word to their old king that the Provençal army was a paper tiger. Berengario I’s forces, which were supplemented by mercenaries from Bavaria, approached the city under cover of darkness. By the time the Provençals saw the enemy force they recognized they were outnumbered. Louis then fled into a church where he claimed the right to sanctuary.

            Berengario I respected this age-old church tradition and allowed Louis to- no, just kidding, the furious Italian monarch dragged the usurper king out. Louis had broken his vow not to return to Italy, and thus annulled any contracts between himself and God. Berengario I would not forgive a rival a second time. As punishment for breaking his oath, Berengario I had Louis’ eyes stabbed out. It is for this reason that the Provençal king is known to history as Louis the Blind.

            Louis returned to Provence, where he still styled himself as king and emperor, though in practice he was neither. His cousin, Hugues, Count of Arles, became the real power in the kingdom, and it was during this time that Arles became the capital. Then, in 925, Italian nobles decided to try their luck with a new king, yet again, and invited Hugues to Italy. Unlike his cousin and later brother-in-law (Hugues married Louis’ sister), Hugues succeeded in taking northern Italy.

            While Hugues consolidated his grasp on Italy, Rodolphe II, King of Burgundy, seized territory in Provence, likely with the support of disgruntled Italians trying to undermine Hugues’ power. Hugues turned out to be one of those rare rulers who knew not to overstretch himself. The king of Italy made a deal with Rodolphe II, giving him Provence in exchange for the Burgundian king relinquishing all claims to Italy. Rodolphe II accepted and annexed the territory in 933. The Kingdom of Provence was no more, replaced by the Counties of Provence, Forcalquier and Venaissin. Additionally, as a territory within the Kingdom of Burgundy, Provence was now a part of the Holy Roman Empire. To be clear, the region’s linkages to the Kingdom of France had not been severed; it was more like a whole other layer had been added on.

            Thus, 933 marks a definitive end of the dreams of Provence’s leaders to forge a mighty kingdom for themselves. Provence’s rocky ground could not nurture great lords. It was more naturally suited as a middle ground between powers, a reality now confirmed by the erasure of the title of ‘king’ in the region. The Carolingians easily crushed Boson I’s attempts to use it as a powerbase for a realm in the Western Alps. Louis tried to rule Provence and Italy, only to find out he could do neither, and lost his eyes for it. Only Hugues was humble enough to realize that he was a medium-sized fish in a sea filled with sharks. Hugues sacrificed Provence and gained Italy. Still, a part of his heart remained in his homeland. At the age of 66 or 67, he abdicated the throne in favor of his son and returned to Arles, where he died.

            Provence was without a king. No local monarch ruled. The King of Burgundy was too occupied with his heartland to administer the territory. The Holy Roman Emperor did not even give the region a second thought. From 933 to 972, Provence experienced instability as petty nobles warred against each other. Simultaneously the mujahadeen raided Christian lands. Provence was a war-torn land with major depopulated areas, subject to the whims of bloodthirsty lords and lacking enough wealth for greater powers to care enough about it to conquer it. Then, in 972, the mudahim of Fraxinetum overplayed their hand and brought about their own doom, allowing a new lord to use their defeat as justification to rule and bring stability to Provence.

            In 972, mudahim captured and ransomed Bishop Maiolus, abbot of Cluny. Maiolus was not some haughty functionary, but a beloved spiritual titan who many considered a living saint. His capture was enough to end the Christian-on-Christian violence until he could be delivered from his bonds. Guillaume, the Count of Avignon, and his brother Roubaud, Count of Arles, led a coalition of nobles to besiege Fraxinetum, driving out the Islamic presence after almost a century of occupation. The Christian chronicles hailed the victory of their soldiers against the Islamic forces and their works recount that the land that was utterly devastated and depopulated by ruthless Muslim raiders. One can only wonder just how much of the chaos in southern France was caused by these mujahadeen and how much was the fault of the local Christian populations. For almost a century, the Christian nobility was far more concerned with fighting each other than expunging people of a different faith. Still, regardless of who was to blame and for what portion of the devastation, the victory brought about a period of peace because it brought glory to the expedition’s leader.

Like Charles Martel at the Battle of Tours, Guillaume promoted himself as a champion of Christ against heathens and gained respect from the church and his peers. He doled out the conquered land to nobles that would support him. In the process, Guillaume earned the title ‘The Liberator.’ As a recognition of his prominence in Provence, the King of Burgundy made him Count, and then Marquis. While the Count of Provence ruled over the County of Provence, the Marquis of Provence ruled over the three counties that made up the region of Provence. I do apologize if it sounds confusing, but honestly, from this point on its not, it’s actually very simple. Thankfully, from this moment until Provence’s conquest by France in 1482, Provence was ruled by a Marquis. We can put aside all of the name changes for the divisions within Provence that make up the footnotes of history and establish a rough timeline: from 888-933 Provence was a semi-independent kingdom. From 933 to 972 it was a divided, autonomous region within the Kingdom of Burgundy that was constantly in chaos. After 972 Provence was a Marquisate, whose Marquis stood above the petty lords and who attempted to bring order, peace and stability to the region, with varying success, until Provence’s eventual incorporation into the Kingdom of France.

            During this time, Provence was mercifully free of the politicking of greater powers. Otto I directly intervened in the affairs of Burgundy and Provence until the 970s, after which the emperors ignored their far-flung territory. Likewise, the Kings of Burgundy were technically suzerains of Provence but they stopped visiting after 963 and did not issue any known charters after 970. The new house that ruled over Provence was initially strong enough to keep peace but too weak to launch any devastating wars. The Burgundian monarch uplifted this new family of counts specifically because they were second-tier nobles who could never threaten a greater power. Thus, Provence enjoyed a relatively happy era for forty years, during which it healed from the internal strife that had ravaged the land.

            Guillaume I ‘The Liberator,’ served admirably in his position. He began his reign by inviting people to repopulate the north and reasserted control over the coast. Around 983 Adélaïde of Anjou escaped from the control of her husband, the future King Louis V the last Carolingian king of West Francia, and settled in Provence. There she married Guillaume I and the two had four children, one of which, became Guillaume II, his successor. In 993, Guillaume I fell ill and worried he would die, despite only being in his early or mid-forties. He traveled to Cluny Abbey where he passed away.  

            Guillaume I’s brother Roubaud II kept the peace until his death in the year 1008. Without a strong hand at the helm, disgruntled nobles launched a revolt to seize territory from the ruling house and its supporters. The regent Adélaïde led her side to a manageable victory but peace was never permanent from here on. The ruling house had never been strong to begin with. Things got worse as Guillaume I’s children took control of part of Provence and Roubaud II’s took the rest. While they generally worked together, there was no single strong ruler from their house that ever managed to completely keep the lords in check.

            For a century, Provence was a region of petty nobles who constantly fought against each other. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, incredible transformations occurred. This area that many great princes shrugged off as a place of no consequence, underwent an incredible period of cultural, spiritual and political dynamism. As we shall see, Provence quickly became a laboratory for innovations that lifted it out of the early medieval period and brought it much closer to something bold and new.