Hidden clauses in Byzantine Treaties

When a modern audience thinks of a treaty, they think of a formal, physical document concerning diplomatic relations between two powers. For the ancient period and the majority of the early Medieval period, this simply isn’t the case. In these periods treaties are most recorded in chronicles, the actual treaty itself often not surviving. Procopius is a good example as he records the Eternal Peace in his work ‘Wars’. However, sometimes chroniclers will only brush over the treaties and seem to have left out major clauses. This is most apparent in Procopius’ recording of the Eternal Peace, particularly when contrasted with Menander’s account of the Fifty Year Peace.[1] Whilst Menander lays out clauses point by point, Procopius just groups them together in a paragraph.[2] If we define a clause as a separate article within a treaty with its own topic, unless the author of the source has indicated otherwise, Procopius only gives us five clauses. When compared to Menander’s account of the Fifty Years Peace, which has thirteen clauses, Procopius’ recording of the Eternal Peace seems somewhat negligent. Admittedly, this essay is stating Procopius only records five clauses by this essays own definition of a clause. However, one would have to use a very loose definition of a clause to make Procopius’ recording of the Eternal Peace have significantly more clauses. Regardless, it seems quite clear that some treaties are recorded in more detail than others, but is this to say that clauses have been left out of the recording of these treaties? Furthermore, can we attempt to uncover potential clauses that may have been left out of various chroniclers recording of treaties? This will be the aim of this article. To answer these questions this essay will use two Byzantine theatres of war as case studies, these being treaties made with Persia and treaties made with the Bulgars. This is partly due to Byzantium offering a large supply of treaties to choose from, but also due to Byzantine treaties being the treaties I am most familiar with. Although this necessitates that any conclusions made by this article are ‘Byzantine-centric’, this will hopefully act as a stepping stone from which I can write further articles in the future.

As established above, the Eternal Peace seems to be a particularly short recording of a treaty. Although this could simply reflect that the actual treaty itself was short, there are key clauses you’d expect to find that are missing, such as clauses concerning trade.[3] It may be argued that this treaty was simply not trade orientated, but Byzantium consistently creates inter-polity trade legislation via treaties, and also often renews clauses from previous treaties made with a concerned polity.[4] Again this is demonstrated when we compare the two treaties. For example clauses eight and ten of the Fifty Years Peace directly reference clause two of the Eternal Peace.[5] All of these clauses reference the demilitarisation of a Byzantine fort called Daras on the frontier with Persia. Clause six of the Fifty Years Peace also references a clause of the Eternal peace, specifically clause three, both clauses referencing what each Empire is to do with third party enemies of either polity.[6] This comparison clearly shows that when treaties are renewed clauses are renewed. The fact that there is clear trade legislation contained in the Fifty Year Peace and not any mention of it in the Eternal Peace makes Procopius’ account suspect. In fact, when we look at an account of a peace treaty made between Rome and Persia in 298, we find yet another clause concerning trade.[7]  The sole account of this treaty survives in the fragmentary works of Peter the Patrician, a sixth century historian, diplomat and magister officiorum of Byzantium, who had access to the archives of Byzantium, making his account reliable.[8] This clause seems to be referenced in the Fifty Year Peace, as both specify specific points of entry for merchants.  This strongly suggests that Procopius has left out clauses in his documenting of the Eternal Peace. This may either be due to Procopius not having access to the actual treaty document itself, or be due to the nature of Procopius’ work. As Procopius is primarily writing on the wars undertaken by Justinian, he may not have deemed the diplomatic aspect of this event as necessary to his work, and thus only briefly touches upon what he thinks are the most important clauses.  This implies that Procopius neglected to record clauses on trade in the Eternal Peace.

The Eternal Peace is not the only treaty which potentially has missing clauses. The Byzantine-Bulgar treaties of 716 also appear to gloss over specifics, but we may be able to infer some of the clauses from the surrounding events.[9] This treaty is recorded in Theophanes chronicle. Although Theophanes does not record a treaty being concluded in his entry for the year 716, he does record the Bulgars attempting to make peace with the Byzantines in the year 812.[10] Theophanes states the Bulgars specifically asked to renew the terms of the 716 treaty. It is worth noting that although the Bulgar request for a truce in 812 is denied, only three years later the Byzantines agree to renew the truce.[11] This will be relevant later. Regardless, the clauses Theophanes gives are the boundary between the two powers at the Melones in Thrace, a tribute of vestments and dyed red hides at the value of 30 pounds of gold, and that refugees from either country should be returned, even if they have conspired against either ruler.[12] Again, all of these clauses are put into one paragraph, with very little effort in differentiating between different clauses, much like Procopius’ recording of the Eternal Peace.[13] Theophanes account only gives us one set of clauses for both the 716 treaty and the 815 treaty, so we cannot compare the two treaties for discrepancies as this essay did for the Eternal Peace and Fifty Years Peace.[14] However, Theophanes does provide us with events surrounding the treaties. Only a year after the 716 treaty, the Bulgars sent military aid to the Byzantines to relieve Constantinople from besieging Arab forces.[15] Eight years after the 815 treaty, Constantinople was again besieged, this time by Thomas the Slav, and again the Bulgars provided military support and lifted the siege.[16] This implies that both of these treaties had a clause on military aid which Theophanes did not record.

These four treaties seem to imply that chronicles are not always a reliable source, but this is hardly a revelation for most Medievalists. This problem extends throughout any historical analysis that relies heavily on chronicles as evidence. There’s no real solution, other than to attempt to use a wide variety of sources, but this seems somewhat obvious. Furthermore, some topics, such as Medieval diplomacy and exploring the themes of Medieval treaties, simply must rely on chronicles as there are very few if any other sources. Whilst this conclusion may seem fairly obvious, it shows that we cannot be too trusting of chroniclers, as well as how this particular problem applies to treaties recorded in chronicles, while also potentially revealing some ‘hidden clauses’ of four Byzantine treaties.

[1] Procopius, War, I.xii.9 – I.xii.17; Menander, Fragment, 6.

[2] Procopius, War, I.xii.9 – I.xii.17; Menander, Fragment, 6.

[3] Procopius, War, I.xii.9 – I.xii.17.

[4] This can be further seen in other Byzantine treaties such as the 945 Byzantine-Rus treaty, as well as in other polities treaties, as seen in Alfred the Great’s treaty with Guthrum; The Russian primary chronicle, 51.5 – 51.9; “Æthelred’s treaty with Olaf” Early English laws.

http://www.earlyenglishlaws.ac.uk/laws/texts/II-Atr/. Accessed: 27th April 2017.

[5] Menander, Fragment, 6.i; Procopius, War, I.xii.9 – I.xii.17.

[6] Menander, Fragment, 6.i; Procopius, War, I.xii.9 – I.xii.17.

[7] Peter the patrician, Fragments, 13 – 14.

[8] Peter the patrician, Fragments, 13 – 14; Menander, Fragment, 6.i.

[9] Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26

[10] Theophanes, Chronographia, 391.4 – 398.4; Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26.

[11] Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26

[12] Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26

[13] Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26

[14] Theophanes, Chronographia, 497.18 – 503.26

[15] Theophanes, Chronographia, 397.1 – 398.4.

[16] Anon, Theophanes continuatus, 65.


Notable absences and their importance

Most people are aware of what is meant by the phrase “fashionably late”. For those unaware, the Oxford Dictionary defines the phrase as “Deliberately arriving after an event has started, especially in order to prove one’s social status”.[1] Thus if I were late to my friends birthday, and explained that my tardiness was due to some other social function, this would convey the impression that I had so many social commitments that my time needed to be rationed. This would imply I was of a high social status. Medieval Lords seem to have had a similar system, except rather than simply being “fashionably late”, a superior Lord would often be “fashionably absent”, and this shall be explored below.

In 1189 Lord Rhys, Prince of Deheubarth, travelled to Oxford to treat with Richard I, King of England.[2] However, rather than appear himself, Richard sent his brother, John, to negotiate with the Welsh prince. This was deemed so insulting by Lord Rhys that, rather than make do with the King’s brother, he stormed off.[3] Clearly this was seen as quite insulting by Lord Rhys, most likely due to what Richard’s absence implied. An absent regent seems to reveal two things. The first revelation seems to be that the absentee was a very busy individual, and that their time was a precious commodity. The second, and arguably more insulting, revelation, is that meeting with an inferior ruler was not worth their precious time. This further reinforced that the inferior ruler was just that, an inferior. Just as being fashionably late may enhance one’s social status, being fashionably absent seems to highlight a regent’s superiority over an inferior. This somewhat explains Rhys’ reaction, in that Rhys had been a surprisingly aggressive neighbour, and had considerable success in raiding English held territory.[4] For this success to be simply dismissed, by Richard not appearing at all, must have been quite a blow to his ego. Regardless, this certainly implies that the absence of a regent showed the relationship dynamic between two powers.

Some might say this is not a typical occasion, but whilst Rhys’ reaction is certainly quite exceptional, there are many documented instances of inferior powers meeting a superior power, with the superior regent being absent. Another, earlier, example is that of William the Lion meeting the Bishop of Durham in 1174 at Reddunburn river to secure peace. A later example would include Llewellyn the Great’s meeting with representatives of King John in 1201.[5] Few would dispute that the realms of Scotland or Gwynedd were inferior to that of England, in either economic prowess or in terms of raw military might. In fact, William the Lion would become vassal to Henry II just two years after the aforementioned meeting, and Llewelyn was arranging to become the vassal of King John in this particular meeting.[6] The principality of Deheubarth was also a minor power when compared to the English juggernaut and these examples show the meeting at Oxford in 1189 was not an exceptional occurrence.

This certainly seems to indicate that the absence of a superior regent was used to highlight their superiority at the expense of the inferiors’ dignity. However, it might be argued that this was simply a practical arrangement. After all, the Kings of England during this period had many territories overseas, and it can’t be expected of them to appear in more than one place at a time. This is certainly a valid point, but again it is reflective of the superior/inferior relationship that these polities had, and this is further showcased in the following example. In 1192 Richard I treated with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. However, Richard had fallen ill, so negotiations between these two powerful Lords occurred via a series of messengers from one regent to the other.[7] This clearly shows that if two equal powers were to treat together, but complications arose, then both would send messengers. This is certainly not the case with the Scottish King and Welsh princes mentioned above, and that seems to be primarily due to the aforementioned powers being treated as inferiors. Whilst it is clear that impractical circumstances could force a regent to be absent from negotiations, it is also clear that this could be overcome without implying either power was an inferior.

The absence of a regent was clearly an important factor in medieval diplomacy. It both highlighted and solidified the superior/inferior relationship of the powers involved, and clearly had very real complications, as seen in Lord Rhys’ case. It seems to have been a fairly common tool of showing the dynamic of an inter-polity relationship, as evidenced by the meetings in 1174 and 1201, and something which could be avoided if involving two equal powers, as shown by Richard I negotiations with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. The impression conveyed by a regent being absent was not only that the regent was busy with the affairs of their domain, but that these affairs were more important than meeting the Lord of an inferior foreign power, and thus further cemented the status quo.

[1]‘Fashionably late’, Oxford Dictionary, accessed 24/09/2016, https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/fashionably_late

[2]Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi Benedicti Abbatis, 2 vols, ed. W. Stubbs, Rolls Series, 49 (London, 1867), ii, p87-88

[3]Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi Benedicti Abbatis, ii, p97; Chronica Magistri Rogeri de Hovedene, 4vols, ed. W. Stubbs, Rolls Series, 51 (London 1868-71), iii, p23

[4] Kari Maund, The Welsh Kings: Warriors, Warlords and Princes, (Stroud, 2006), p177-178

[5] Chronica Magistri Rogeri de Hovedene, ii, p56-57; Rotuli Litterarum Patentium in Turri Londiniensi Asservati, ed. T. Duffus Hardy, (London, 1835), 8b-9a

[6] Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi Benedicti Abbatis, I, p95-97, p111; Rotuli Litterarum Patentium in Turri Londiniensi Asservati, 8b-9a

[7] Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi, 6, tr. H, Nicholson, (Aldarshot, 1997), p27-28, p371-372.

The Importance of Meeting Places; indicating status

Meeting places are often forgotten in regard to modern diplomacy, primarily as the details of what is being negotiated overshadow the environment in which it is being negotiated. This is not to say that they are forgotten altogether. The most famous example is probably the train carriage in which the French surrender in World War II was signed. It was no coincidence that this was the exact same carriage in which the armistice of November 11th was signed twenty-two years earlier. This was clearly a humiliation for France, and established Germany as the superior power for the remainder of the war. However, what is the importance of meeting places in the Medieval age? This is what this article will attempt to find out.

In 911 AD Charles the Simple, King of the Franks, met with a Viking leader named Rollo to make peace. Although we know little of Rollo’s exploits prior to this meeting due to a lack of sources, it is likely Rollo had been carrying out large scale raids in Northern France. We can piece this together thanks to Dudo’s account of this meeting, which states Rollo had “overrun the whole of Frankia” and mentions Rollo had fought several successful battles against the counts of the Kingdom.[1] Although it is unlikely that Rollo actually overwhelmed the entirety of Frankia, it shows how significant a threat Rollo and his followers were. Surely this implies Rollo is the superior power here? Having won several victories and brought one of the foremost powers in Europe to the diplomatic table certainly make this view plausible. However, this may not necessarily be the case, as we’ll see below.

Dudo of St Quentin’s account specifies Charles was willing to give Rollo Flanders, as well as the hand of his daughter to secure peace for his realm. In return Rollo was to be baptised. Rollo rejects this offer, primarily because of the extensive, unusable marsh land which took up much of Flanders, but he eventually settles for receiving the area which would become the Duchy of Normandy.[2] What does any of this have to do with meeting places? For answers we must turn to the account of William of Jumièges. We’re told both parties met upon a river, a river which neither was willing to cross. This problem was solved by the sending of emissaries back and forth, but why would neither party cross the river?[3] By stressing that neither party crossed the river, William is showing that this is a meeting of equals. Could this not just be diplomatic etiquette? After all, the reasons listed above certainly seem to imply Rollo was the superior here. Although this could be true, we must take into account the context of the situation. Yes, Rollo was had been victorious in several conflicts involving the Franks and won. We must remember though that Rollo was a Viking leader, most likely from Denmark. However, Denmark was no short distance from Northern France, and it is unlikely that Rollo would have been able to bring more men from his home country to consolidate his position. Furthermore Charles ruled a vast realm, and his relations with his neighbouring Kingdoms, as well as with his own aristocracy were in a precarious state.[4] It would be significantly easier for Charles to settle these Norsemen on land and in turn gain their support rather than to weaken himself by engaging them in battle, which would also give his enemies at home and abroad opportunity to attack him. It was in Rollo’s interests to quit whilst he was ahead, and Charles’ to settle this dispute in a way which would not cause too much disruption to his realm. Thus we can clearly see that they were equal in terms of military prowess, and in turn met as equals. The refusal for either one of them to cross the river, into the others ‘controlled zone’ reflects that. It may be argued that Williams account is inaccurate as it was written significantly after the events it records, c. 100 years in fact. Although this is true, it does not matter. What matters is that William recorded what he thought the meeting between two equal parties would have been like.

Meetings between parties were often held upon the parties boarders. This is somewhat evidenced by the continuation of meetings along the borders of the Duchy of Normandy and the Kingdom of France after the aforementioned meeting in 911. These conferences were consistently located where the edges of these two realms touched.[5] For example, in 1202 King John was summoned to the court of King Philip Augustus in Paris, in his capacity as Duke of the Normans, vassal of the French King. John replied saying that the Duke of the Normans had been granted the privilege of only having to meet the French King at the border between the Duchy and the Kingdom.[6] In fact, the chronicler Roger of Howden gives the general location of these meetings as “between Gisors and Trie where parleys had always been held between the Kings of the French and the Norman Dukes”.[7] In fact, we know of at least twelve other diplomatic meetings which have occurred in this area in the previous century.

However, the above paragraph has skimmed over a major development which occurred between the treaty of 911 and that of 1202, the Conquest of England. Rollo, a leader of wondering Viking raiders may have been equal to Charles the Simple in terms of military success and power, but surely this necessitates the heirs of Rollo, having conquered the entirety of England, should be seen as superior to the French kings? If this is true, why does John successfully demand to meet Philip Augustus 291 years later as equals, as indicated by the meeting place between their borders? This does seem to throw a wrench in the works of the theory, but this interpretation too brushes over important events. As mentioned above, Charles the Simple had enemies both abroad and at home, the latter of which revolted, in 920 and again in 922, and imprisoned him for the remainder of his life.[8] Charles’ power over his barons was weak well before the revolts of the 920’s and thus he did not have the strength one would associate with one of the most powerful monarchies of Medieval Europe. However, in the later part of the 10th century, the Capetian dynasty came to power, displacing the Carolingian which Charles was a part of. The Capetian dynasty did much to revitalise the power of the monarchy in France and bring the Barons under the King’s thumb once more. A pivotal period was the reign of Louis VI, also known as ‘the fat’, who quashed rebellious lords who overstepped their role and reasserted the power of the monarchy in the royal demesne.[9] By 1202 the Kings of France were in a significantly better position, being able to call upon the might of their various vessels. The opposite is true for the King John, in that his barons were becoming increasingly unsatisfied with his rule, which eventually resulted in an outright rebellion and the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215.[10] The very fact that King Phillip attempted to bring his English counterpart to his court shows the precarious position which John was in. Thus we can still claim that despite the evolving circumstances of the period, the Dukes of Normandy were still equals to the Kings of France.

Both examples covered so far have been between equal powers, how can we be sure that meeting between boarders was not the norm for all medieval powers, and not just between those of equal standing? This calls for an example involving two powers which were clearly uneven in terms of status. In 1181 Valdemar, King of the Danes, met the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa at the river Trave.[11] Not only did the Valdemar have to cross the river to the Emperor, clearly showing his inferior status, the river itself was located in the Empire, not on the boarder. As Emperor Barbarossa had significantly more resource than Valdemar, both in terms of wealth and armed forces; this compelling of the inferior power to be within the territory of the superior reflects this. This  compelling of an inferior into a superiors domain was not unique to diplomacy between the Danes and Germans. Anglo-Welsh relations are full of examples in which various Welsh princes were compelled to cross into English territory.  For example, in 1177 Henry II met with two Welsh princes at Oxford, a clear indication of their inferior status.[12] There are also various examples of this practice involving Anglo-Scottish relations and Danish and Slavic relations. This is clearly a practice which was recognised widely throughout the Medieval world.

However, can we be sure that this was not just a European phenomenon? Surely cultures south of the Mediterranean will have had a different practises regarding diplomacy? Although this is undoubtedly true, to say that meeting places did not have a place in indicating whether the parties involved were equal or not is unlikely. In 1192 Richard I, leading the Third Crusade, and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, or Saladin, made peace. Richard was sick at the time so negotiations were conducted via a series of messengers.[13] Although it is true that there was no actual meeting place between the two rulers, that fact that neither of them came to the other shows they were both regarded as equal. This mirrors the aforementioned treaty of 991, whilst also being on a separate continent to all other treaties discussed in this article. Clearly  more examples are needed, particularly non-European ones, but what is certain is that meeting places, or rather, where parties were positioned when negotiating, were important status indicator in Medieval culture.

The topic of meeting places and its intrinsic relationship with indicating status is one which I’d be interested in studying further. In particular I’d like to see how many parallels can be drawn between European and non-European powers. The examples mentioned in the article are incredibly Eurocentric, even the last example that mentions an Arabic power is from a European source, but this is due to a lack of English translations of sources from this period outside of Europe. It is certainly something which I’d like to write about in the future, if provided the opportunity. If you would like to read more on the subject Jenny Benham’s ‘Peacemaking in the Middle Ages’ covers this topic in great detail, and also explores a plethora of other factors that affects Medieval diplomacy.

[1] Dudo of St Quentin, History of the Normans, tr. E. Christiansen (Woodbridge, 1998), 35-40

[2] Dudo of St Quentin, History of the Normans, tr. E. Christiansen (Woodbridge, 1998), 35-40.

[3] The Gesta Normannorum ducum of William of Jumièges, Orderic Vitalis and Robert of Torigni, ed. E.M.C. van Houtss (Oxford, 1992-95), I, 52-5.

[4] Mckitterick, R., The Frankish Kingdoms under the Carolingians, (Essex, 1983), 306-309

[5] Benham, J., Peace Making in the Middle Ages, (Manchester, 2011), p21-33; The matter of boarders in the Medieval period is still hotly debated amongst historians, and warrants another article. For the purposes of this article I am accepting Benham’s definition.

[6] Ralph of Coggeshall., Chronicon Anglicanum, ed. Joseph Stevenson, Rolls Series, 66 (London 1875), 135-136.

[7] Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi Benedicti Abbatis, 2 vols, ed. W. Stubbs, Rolls Series, 49 (London, 1867), 47

[8] Mckitterick, R., The Frankish Kingdoms under the Carolingians, 308-309

[9] Suger., The Deeds of Louis the Fat, tr. R, Cuismano, J. Moorhead, (Washington, 1992), 18

[10] Church, S., King John: England, Magna Carta and the Making of a Tyrant, (London, 2015), 214

[11] Saxo Grammaticus., Danorum Regum Heroumque Historia, ed.  E, Christiansen. BAR international series, (Oxford 1981),  iii, 804 fn. 332

[12] Brut y Tywysogyon or the Chronicle of the Princes, tr. T. Jones (Cardiff, 1952), 70.

[13] Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi, 6, tr. H, Nicholson, (Aldarshot, 1997), 27-28, 371-372.



The Anglo-Norman treaty of 991

The Anglo-Norman treaty of 991 refers to a letter made in the name of Pope John XV who played a major role in initiating peace negotiations between King Æthelred II of England and Richard I, duke of Normandy. Unlike many other treaties we know of from this period it is a near contemporary document, having been copied in the early 11th century.[1]  Whilst this may seem like a fairly straight forward source Chaplais has argued that the author was likely one of the clerical representatives from either parties, by showing that there is significant deviation from standard Papal written norms.[2]   The Pope is most likely attributed as the author as it was the Pope who acted as a neutral third party for this treaty.[3]  The source itself is simply meant to act as a record of the events described from the Church’s point of view.[4]  Regardless, it is still important that we have a good knowledge of the background of Pope John XV, as not only will this provide information on the attributed author, it will also provide the political context in which the Pope urged these diplomatic talks.

Pope John XV is often overlooked by academic historians but is an interesting case as, unlike later Popes, he had significant support from the Holy Roman Emperor during his reign, as shown by Otto III’s willingness to come to John’s aid in 996.[5]   Thus the early Papacy had an excellent reputation, being untouched by the later conflicts between the Church and various secular powers. Though this may seem somewhat irrelevant it does provide insight into how and why the Pope, whose base of residence was no short distance in relation to Northern Europe, was still able to convince these rulers to make peace. This shows that this source is particularly useful in understanding Papal diplomatic intervention early on in the period.

One of the major points of interest in this source is that the Papacy seems to take the initiative in opening diplomatic dialogue. Lines four to seven from the source support this, saying that Pope John took the initiative after hearing about the conflict between these two ‘spiritual sons’. This seems unusual, particularly when later diplomatic conferences which involve third parties normally consist of the two conflicting powers inviting the third party to take up the role, as Gerald of Wales shows when recording the Kings of Castille and Navarre asking Henry II to act as an independent third party in 1177.[6]  It is clear that these Iberian Kings requested the English monarch’s assistance. Although it could be argued the Pope was invited to intervene, after potentially hearing of it from the Archbishop Sigeric in the later part of 989 or early 990 when Sigeric met the Pope in order to receive his Pallium giving him an opportunity to ask for Papal intervention, it is unlikely that this constitutes a formal invitation from King Æthelred II himself. Thus this source could be said to show that the Papacy had exceptional authority as a mediator in the middle ages. In fact, Ullman goes so far as to say that the Papacy had the power to deny the autonomy of the rulers involved in diplomatic processes which the Papacy was involved in.[7]  However, there are clearly examples which lead one to suspect this was less true later in the period, such as the Papal mediation between Henry II and Philip Augustus in 1189, mentioned by Benham, which did not have its desired effect.[8]  This may have been in part due to the later Papacies reputation being somewhat damaged by conflicts with other powers, particularly with the Holy Roman Empire. Despite this it can certainly be argued that this may have been a reality in the early period when the Papacy’s reputation was bolstered by good relations with the ‘German’ Emperor.

A final point should be briefly touched upon, the fact that representatives are employed by both leaders. The source states that King Æthelred dispatched three emissaries, Bishop Æthelsige, Leofstan and Æthelnoth, whilst the Norman Duke reciprocated this act somewhat, by asking three members of his court, Bishop Roger, Rodulf and Tursten, to swear the oath that finalised the treaty on his behalf. It is likely that that this combination of emissaries, being one bishop and two noblemen, was due to diplomatic practice involving representatives being highly symbolic, with a format known to both parties.  What is particularly peculiar about this is that emissaries swearing any sort of oath on behalf of the rulers, rather than acting as messengers. This dips into an ongoing debate between Chaplais and Queller, both of whom argue that there were two types of medieval envoy, nuncii and procuratores. However, they disagree over what defines these two types of envoy. Chaplais argues that nuncii acted primarily as messengers, only being able to recite an oral request on behalf of their lord and bring an answer back.[9] Queller on the other hand believes that nuncii were indeed able to take oaths on behalf of those who they represented, but this was in no way binding to that person.[10] Any oaths or treaties negotiated by a nuncii would have to undergo review by their Lord before it could be made binding. Both of these historians agree upon the limited role of nuncii, and also see them as being the prominent envoy prior to the 12th century.  They both have a similar  view of procuratores, both arguing that they were able to negotiate and conclude binding agreements on behalf of those they represented, although Chaplais adds that this depended on the strength of the documents appointing them to the role.[11] Both agree that procuratores become prominent in the 12th and 13th centuries, Chaplais even arguing that the diplomatic negotiations involving procuratores simply are not documented until the aforementioned period. [12] However, clearly the envoys in the Anglo-Norman treaty of 991 are acting as procuratores, as both parties envoys swear binding oaths on behalf of their Lord. Clearly this shows that diplomatic practises of this time had already adapted a structure and routine which we have little knowledge of, particularly when most of the academic work surrounding the subject of Medieval diplomacy focuses on the later part of the period.

The Anglo-Norman treaty is certainly a useful source. Not only does it shed light upon the exceptional powers of the Papacy early on in the period as an intervening third party, it can also be said to help us understand why these Papal powers faded later in the period, i.e. due to secular conflicts. Although this source is useful primarily as an example of Papal diplomacy in the Middle Ages, it also reveals information regarding the importance of diplomatic structure and just how little we know regarding emissaries and diplomacy in the early period.

[1] Chaplais, P (2003). English Diplomatic Practice in the Middle Ages. London: Hambledon Press, 2003. p36.

[2] Chaplais, P (2003). English Diplomatic Practice in the Middle Ages. London: Hambledon Press, 2003. p39.

[3] Chaplais, P (2003). English Diplomatic Practice in the Middle Ages. London: Hambledon Press, 2003. P40.

[4] This is supported by the second sentence of the source, which says all Christians throughout the world should know of this event, implying that this is the reason it is recorded.

[5] Kelly, J.N.D. Walsh, M.J. (2010) A Dictionary of Popes. Oxford University Press. Oxford Reference. John XV. Available: http://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref/9780199295814.001.0001/acref-9780199295814-e-153?rskey=Ci5edW&result=1. Last accessed 24/10/15.

[6] Breeze, A. (1996). “Gerald of Wales’ ‘Expugnatio Hibernica’ and Pedro of Cardona (d. 1183), Archbishop of Toledo”. National Liberary of Wales Journal. 29 (3), p337-339.

[7] Ulmann, The medieval Papal Court as an International tribunal, p361 Medieval Papal Court as an International Tribunal, The International Court of Justice  available: http://heinonline.org/HOL/Page?handle=hein.journals/vajint11&div=37&g_sent=1&collection=journals

[8] Benham, J (2011). Peacemaking in the Middle Ages. Manchester: Manchester University Press. p186.

[9] Chaplais, P (1971). English Diplomatic Documents to the End of Edward III’s Reign. Oxford: D.A. Bullough and R.L. Story. p39.

[10] Queller, D. (1960). Thirteenth-century Diplomatic Envoys: Nuncii and Procuratores. Speculum. 35 (2), p200-201.

[11] Queller, D. (1960). Thirteenth-century Diplomatic Envoys: Nuncii and Procuratores. Speculum. 35 (2), p202-203;

Chaplais, P (2003). English Diplomatic Practice in the Middle Ages. London: Hambledon Press, 2003. P41

[12] Chaplais, P (2003). English Diplomatic Practice in the Middle Ages. London: Hambledon Press, 2003. p18