spiritual state of grace at the moment of death depended happiness, or misery, for the whole of eternity. Though by the later Middle Ages views on the afterlife had lost some of their certainty, in the twelfth century notions of Purgatory were little considered; it was a straight choice between the Bosom of Abraham and the Cauldron of Hell. Such was the dread of eternal damnation, such the dread of excommunication or an “interdict” upon a whole nation, that the mere threat could reverse policies or even overturn thrones. Perhaps never again would the power and influence of the Pope be greater.
Manipulating and conspiring on the international scene, some pontiffs resembled a Metternich or a Bismarck of their times. The Pope at the time of Philippe’s accession was Alexander III, a vigorous reformer who strongly supported Becket’s stand against royal encroachment on Church matters, and who did much to consolidate papal authority throughout Europe. Several popes later came Innocent III—there was a certain irony in the name—who had his finger on every pulse within the Church, and influence everywhere in the Christian world. With their authority challenged by the hostility of the Hohenstaufen Holy Roman emperors and by an array of four imperial anti-popes, these medieval pontiffs found themselves constrained to juggle alliances with England and France with often bewildering rapidity—as has already been seen.
Philippe’s father had fallen into (temporary) papal displeasure through his divorcing Eleanor, but it was nothing compared to the trouble that overtook Philippe himself. His first wife, Isabelle of Hainault, who had brought him Artois, died aged only nineteen. In 1193 he entered into another politically adroit union with Ingeborg of Denmark, a pretty girl of eighteen. But no sooner had the unfortunate Ingeborg arrived in France than Philippe mysteriously seemed seized of a total and irremediable aversion to her. He tried to persuade King Knut to have her back; the King refused, and complained to the Vatican. Philippe divorced Ingeborg, who—after a spell in prison—was placed in a French convent, and three years later he bigamously married a Bavarian princess, Agnes of Merano.
One of the first acts of Innocent III was to declare in 1198, “The Holy See cannot abandon persecuted women without defending them.” He ordered the divorce annulled and a remarriage, under threat of personal excommunication of the King and Agnes, and of an interdict on the whole kingdom of France. The interdict was enforced in that year, to the deep distress of Philippe’s subjects. Finally, after nine months of resistance, during which time Philippe Auguste had actually gone so far as to give the Papal Legate his papers to leave the country, he submitted on all counts. Ingeborg was reinstated and Agnes chased off, and in September 1200 the interdict was lifted—with Innocent III going so far in the pursuit of reconciliation as to legitimize Agnes’s children.
To his discredit, however, Philippe Auguste was being rather less than honest. He sequestered Ingeborg, first in a château in the Forest of Rambouillet, then under house-arrest at Etampes, while Agnes remained in France, set up by Philippe in a château nearer to Paris. A solution seemed to be presented by the death of Agnes in 1201. Nevertheless, for several years of interminable negotiations between King and Pope, the unfortunate Ingeborg was kept in this wretched state. France and the Vatican came close to rupture once again; but, politically, they needed each other. Then, suddenly, in 1212, Philippe announced that he was going to take Ingeborg back as his queen, if not as his wife. There was relief in the Vatican, and great celebrations in Paris and in the nation at large. But, as usual with Philippe Auguste, the considerations were purely political. He had decided to administer the coup de grâce to King John and to invade England, and for that he needed the support
Greg Cox
J.S. Morin
Rie Warren
Kat Jackson
V. C. Andrews
Hideyuki Kikuchi
Valerie Bowman
Chloe Hart
Patricia McLinn
EL Anders