Philip is often lumped together with his brother John, Lord of
Beirut, by chroniclers and historians much the same way his father and uncle,
Balian and Baldwin, were treated a generation earlier. Yet, this should
not be taken to mean that the brothers were identical, interchangeable or
always in accord with one another. While we know much more about the words and
deeds of John of Beirut than of his younger brother Philip, there is one
revealing incident recorded in Novare that gives us a glimpse of Philip as an
individual in his own right ― and a tantalizing hint of a man with passion and
loyalty.
In
1224 or 1225 (the date remains unclear) at the days-long tournament to
mark the knighting of John of Beirut’s two eldest sons, a knight of
Philip d’Ibelin’s household “smote” down a certain Cypriot lord, Amaury
Barlais, in a game of “barbadaye.” (No one nowadays knows exactly what
this was, but it is assumed to be a kind of melee.) The next day,
Barlais and his men waylaid the knight and came near to killing him. At
this point, according to Novare, “Sir Philip, the bailli, was much
angered and wished to attack [Sir Amaury]… My lord of Beirut, his
brother, intervened between them and held them apart by force and
ordered his son, Sir Balian, to conduct Sir Amaury Barlais there where
he wished to go.” (Novare, Philip. The Wars of Frederick II against the Ibelins in Syria and Cyprus. Columbia University Press, 1936, p.66.) So Philip was a man who, out of
love and loyalty to a man in his service, could become enraged.
Furthermore,
Novare tells us, Beirut was so set on reconciling his brother with
Barlais, that he “went from Cyprus to Beirut and ordered the seeking out
of Sir Amaury Barlais at Easter, and he carried him into Cyprus before
his brother so suddenly that the latter knew nothing of it. He [my lord
of Beirut] said to his brother that he wished him to pardon Sir Amaury
in every manner and in every way; saying that if he would not do this he
would never speak to him more….” (Novare, pp.66-67.) This tells us that
Philip loved his brother so much that the threat not to speak was
enough to make him cave in on a matter that greatly impassioned him.
Yet
these are the only incidents that put flesh on the skeleton left by
history. How he became the man he did can only be speculated upon based
on the known facts.
Philip
was the fourth and youngest child of Balian d’Ibelin and Maria Comnena.
His earliest possible date of birth was 1181, although he might have
been born a year or two later. Like his siblings, he was trapped in
Jerusalem after the disaster at Hattin and would have witnessed his
father’s dramatic return as well as have benefitted from Saladin’s
generosity. Yet, given his young age (at most six and probably younger),
it is unlikely that he was shaped by this event.
His
childhood years between the ages of roughly five to ten were lived in
reduced economic circumstances and great uncertainty. He would surely
have been aware that everything might be lost at any moment, and his
father would have been frequently absent, particularly during the Third
Crusade. His situation, however, would have improved considerably after
the Truce of Ramla. With
his half-sister secure on her throne, it is not too far-fetched to
imagine Philip obtained his schooling as page and squire at his sister’s
court under her husband Henri de Champagne (1192-1197).
Sometime
between 1198 and 1200, on turning 17 or 18, he would have been
knighted, probably by his brother-in-law the king (now Aimery de
Lusignan) or his elder brother John, who was by this time Constable of
Jerusalem (1198-1200). In 1205, when Philip was in his early twenties,
his sister and her husband died, and his brother John became regent of
Jerusalem for their niece Marie de Montferrat. Given how close the
brothers were in later years, we can assume that Philip enjoyed
substantial trust and power, but we have no details of his actual
positions.
In
the same year, the crown of Cyprus passed to the 10-year-old Hugh de
Lusignan and Walter de Montbéliard was elected regent by the High Court
of Cyprus. Montbéliard was a recent arrival in the Latin East married
to King Hugh’s elder sister and heir apparent Burgundia. Sometime
between 1207 and 1210, while Montbéliard was regent of Cyprus and
Beirut regent of Jerusalem, they agreed on the marriage of Montbéliard’s
sister Alys to Beirut’s brother Philip. This
marriage was clearly a political marriage, possibly designed to bind
the two kingdoms closer together ― or possibly to breach differences
that had already surfaced between the Montbéliards and Ibelins.
I
say this because in 1210, when Hugh of Cyprus came of age, he accused
Montbéliard of massive embezzlement and effectively drove him out of
Cyprus altogether, while turning to his Ibelin kinsmen for support. His
ties to the Ibelins had been strengthened by his marriage to their niece
Alice de Champagne. Both Ibelin brothers accompanied Alice to her new
kingdom. At the very latest, therefore, 1210 was the year in which
Ibelin power in Cyprus began to wax. (This is the traditional
interpretation. I have argued elsewhere that the Ibelins may already
have been well-entrenched on Cyprus long before this late date. See:
http://schradershistoricalfiction.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-ibelins-on-cyprus-and-role-of.html)
Certainly, Philip became a close friend and confidante of the young
king and, again based on what happened eight years later, earned the
respect and trust of the majority of Cypriot barons. Unfortunately, we
know nothing about how he did that.
Meanwhile,
in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, Marie de Montferrat had married John de
Brienne, also in 1210, and Beirut had stepped down as regent. His
relationship with King John was evidently cool from the start but
deteriorated further after Marie de Montferrat died in childbed in 1212,
leaving an infant daughter heiress to Jerusalem. John
de Brienne assumed that he remained king, despite the death of his
wife, and continued to rule the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Beirut (and we
presume Philip) appear to have questioned Brienne’s claim to rule,
following the precedent set by their parents in opposing the rule of Guy
de Lusignan after the death of Queen Sibylla three decades earlier. The
breach between Beirut and Brienne almost certainly led to the Ibelins
spending more time in and building up a client base on Cyprus. Here
they were welcome and either already held or were granted by King Hugh
important properties, including at least the lordship of Peristerona and
Episkopi. Significantly, during the Fifth Crusade, both John and Philip
of Ibelin were listed as vassals of King Hugh of Cyprus rather than
King John of Jerusalem, although John d'Ibelin still held the Lordship
of Beirut in the latter kingdom. This
suggests either that they had more property in Cyprus, despite Beirut
being extremely wealthy, or that they refused to serve under Brienne.
As
the crusade got underway, King Hugh and King John quarreled. King Hugh
removed himself from the crusade, heading for Antioch. Here he died
abruptly (in an accident? of dysentery?) at the age of 23. He left behind two little girls and a son just nine months old. Cyprus needed a new regent.
According
to one of the chronicles of the period, on his deathbed, Hugh
recommended Philip d’Ibelin to the High Court as regent for his infant
son, Henry. Other chronicles claim that Hugh’s widow Alice of Champagne
urged the High Court of Cyprus to select Philip d’Ibelin to “govern the
land, hold the court and command over men.” A third version refers only
to the knights, nobles, and people of Cyprus selecting Philip d’Ibelin.
Clearly, in the eight years since the majority of King Hugh and his
death, Philip (not John!) d’Ibelin had established himself as a man who
could be trusted with the reins of government. There is no hint of
factions or opposition to his appointment, which suggests that he did
indeed enjoy widespread support at this time.
However, the law of crusader kingdoms put him in a more dubious position. According
to the constitution of Cyprus, the regent for minor was the nearest
relative, which in this case was the infant king’s mother
Alice. At the time of her husband’s death, Alice preferred to name a
deputy (the term used was bailli) to rule for her rather than taking up
the reins of government herself. Controversial, however, was whether she
was at liberty to recall him at any time. Most sources claim that the
vassals of the crown swore an oath to Philip until the infant Prince Henry came of age. Other sources, however, suggest that the oath was until either the prince came of age, or Alice remarried.
This
is significant because in 1223 or 1224, Alice fell-out with Philip and
wanted to replace him. Why is unclear. One source suggests Philip
bullied and humiliated Alice. Novare, on the other hand, claims that
Philip had “much work and grief, while the queen held the revenues,
which she spent freely.” (Novare, p. 63.) One can imagine a situation in
which Alice was profligate with her expenditures, perhaps demanding
more and more of the revenues, thereby provoking protests, rebukes, and
criticism from Philip, which Alice, in turn, felt were “humiliating and
bullying.”
In
In any case, Alice wanted to be rid of Philip, but the High Court
wouldn’t hear of it ―clearly siding with Philip. This suggests they did
not see him as bullying or over-reaching his authority, but rather as
defending the interests of the kingdom. Alice responded by going to
Tripoli and
marrying the Prince of Antioch. This
only served to weaken her position in Cyprus, however, because she had
not bothered to obtain the permission of her knights and nobles. The
latter were now more outraged than ever. Rightly or wrongly, they
alleged that if Antioch set foot on Cyprus, the life of their “little
lord” King Henry would be in danger.
Alice’s
position was further weakened by the outrage of the Pope, who claimed
Alice and Bohemond were related within the prohibited degrees. He ruled
the marriage invalid. Clearly, Bohemond was not going to be able to gain
control of Cyprus for her. So Alice tried a different tactic: she
appointed the disaffected Sir Amaury Barlais, the man who had already
clashed with Philip over the near-murder of one of Philip’s knights, as
her bailli. When
Barlais appeared before the High Court of Cyprus to present his
credentials as bailli, however, he was accused of treason (because he
had sworn an oath to Philip) and challenged to judicial combat by
another baron.
In
In the midst of this power-struggle between Philip d’Ibelin and the
dowager queen, Philip had young Henry, now aged eight, crowned king. The
move was probably intended to bind the knights and nobles of Cyprus to
Henry by oath, and so ensure that Alice and Bohemond ― or Alice and a
different husband ― could not so easily depose him. Yet the crowning
aroused the outrage of the Holy Roman Emperor, who was technically the
overlord of Cyprus.
When
the Holy Roman Emperor came east, he accused Philip of misusing the
revenues of Cyprus, but by then Philip was already dead. In late 1227 or
early 1228, he died of a “mortal malady” that had kept him bed-ridden
for at least a year before his death and so weakened him that he had
voluntarily offered to resign his position of bailli.
Those are the naked facts, but what do they tell actually tell us about Philip?
Modern historians are quick to point out that Philip clung to power even though the acknowledged regent no longer wanted him. The allegations of impropriety leveled by the Holy Roman Emperor are also highlighted, casting Philip in a dubious light. Yet the Holy Roman Emperor never allowed his charges to go before a court of law. On the contrary, he used every kind of force and deceit to ensure they did not come to court ― most probably because he knew his charges were entirely bogus. It is also significant that a large majority (between two-thirds and four-fifths depending on how many knights Cyprus had in this period) of the High Court consistently sided with Philip d’Ibelin. Finally, King Henry was extremely loyal to his Ibelin kin throughout his reign, a poignant hint that he had loved Philip, the man who had been a father for him from the age of one to ten.
Modern historians are quick to point out that Philip clung to power even though the acknowledged regent no longer wanted him. The allegations of impropriety leveled by the Holy Roman Emperor are also highlighted, casting Philip in a dubious light. Yet the Holy Roman Emperor never allowed his charges to go before a court of law. On the contrary, he used every kind of force and deceit to ensure they did not come to court ― most probably because he knew his charges were entirely bogus. It is also significant that a large majority (between two-thirds and four-fifths depending on how many knights Cyprus had in this period) of the High Court consistently sided with Philip d’Ibelin. Finally, King Henry was extremely loyal to his Ibelin kin throughout his reign, a poignant hint that he had loved Philip, the man who had been a father for him from the age of one to ten.
The Last Crusader Kingdom depicts Philip as a youth, and he appears in Rebels against Tyranny as an adult and regent of Cyprus. I only regret that he dies so early because as a novelist I think he is a character well worth exploring more deeply.
No comments:
Post a Comment