Edited By Christian Scholl, Torben R. Gebhardt and Jan Clauß
During the Middle Ages, rulers from different regions aspired to an idea of imperial hegemony. On the other hand, there were rulers who deliberately refused to be «emperors», although their reign showed characteristics of imperial rule. The contributions in this volume ask for the reasons why some rulers such as Charlemagne strove for imperial titles, whereas others voluntarily shrank from them. They also look at the characteristics of and rituals connected to imperial rule as well as to the way Medieval empires saw themselves. Thus, the authors in this volume adopt a transcultural perspective, covering Western, Eastern, Northern and Southern Europe, Byzantium and the Middle East. Furthermore, they go beyond the borders of Christianity by including various caliphates and Islamic «hegemonic» rulers like Saladin.
Intoxication with Virtuality. French Princes and Aegean Titles (Stefan Burkhardt)
In July 1383 James of Baux died. He was the last titular emperor of Constantinople and left his title to Louis I, Duke of Anjou, the unfortunate pretender to the throne of Naples. Louis – despite papal support – never succeeded to assert his claims to Naples and died in Southern Italy the year after.1 But if he had been more successful, he perhaps would have used the title.
Over the last hundred years, there had been many French speaking princes in Southern Italy who held the title “Emperor of Constantinople”. Apart from only holding the title, they tried to realize concrete political claims “in the East”:2 James of Baux, for example, fought together with the Navarrese Company for the Principality of Achaea.3 His uncle, Robert II of Taranto, travelled to Corfu probably in order to conquer the Aegean World. Robert’s father, Philip I of Taranto, planned insistently though not success←295 | 296→fully to restore the throne of Constantinople.4 Philips father-in-law, Charles of Valois, married Catherine of Courtenay, the heiress to the title “Emperor of Constantinople”. Charles tried to conquer the city with the help of the Catalan Company after he had planned the expedition thoroughly, but he never succeeded either.5
Apart from holding the rank of “Emperor of Constantinople”, all these plans to conquer the East were legitimized by further titles held by the aspirants, among them “Prince of Achaea”6 or “Lord of the Kingdom←296 | 297→ of Albania”7. Still, these titles were only stepping stones on the way to Constantinople. The title “Emperor of Constantinople” was regarded as a culmination of all “Eastern titles” and therefore useful for young and ambitious men who strove to establish their own reign. These titles – and especially the title “Emperor of Constantinople” – had some characteristics in common: firstly, they were “new titles” or ranks – not “old titles” like “French king” or “Roman king”. These Aegean titles had once been established by conquerors (by participants of the Fourth Crusade resp. by Charles of Anjou), which combined traditional elements of their Western political world with their new surroundings in the Balkans or the Aegean World.8 Secondly, these titles were connected with “virtual” dominions – “virtual” in the sense of Luhmann, which means not fictional but possible.9 These titles could legitimate further political action or expansion but one could also just hold the titles without any “realized” ambition: you could←297 | 298→ just be “Prince of Achaea” without ruling the Peloponnese or without any ambition to conquer the Aegean world.
But what had these claims to do with Southern Italy? And why did an only nominal title make so many South-Italian princes go towards East? The answer follows from the Fourth Crusade and the conquest of Constantinople: the leaders of the Fourth Crusade had planned to reach Outremer using ships hired from the Venetians. In order to finance this, they agreed to capture Constantinople for the Byzantine prince Alexios IV. After the first conquest of the city, Alexios IV was murdered and his successor Alexios V refused to pay the crusaders. Consequently, the crusaders conquered Constantinople again in 1204 and plundered the city.10
The old Byzantine Empire broke into four parts: the Greek empires of Nicaea, Trebizond and Epirus, and the dominions ruled by the Latins. The latter were divided into realms directly ruled by the Latin emperor and by his vassal fiefs: the Kingdom of Thessalonica under Boniface of Montferrat, the Principality of Achaea, the Duchy of Athens and the Duchy of the Archipelago. Although further duchies had been projected, they never came into being. Beyond that, former Byzantine towns and regions such as Crete were now dominated by the Venetians. The crusaders were convinced of the importance of enthroning a Latin emperor.11
The Latin emperors had to deal with difficulties inherited from the Byzantine Empire, notably political instability, strong centrifugal tendencies,←298 | 299→ and declining revenues. Therefore, the Latin Empire heavily depended on financial and military aid from Western Europe. It was pushed hard by the Bulgarians, the Greeks of Nicaea and of Epirus. For more than 30 years following, changing coalitions of the Latin, Bulgarian and Nicaean empires allied with or opposed each other, leading to the contraction of Latin rule until only the city of Constantinople was left in the hands of Emperor Baldwin II.12 Finally, in 1261 Constantinople was captured by the army of the Nicaean emperor Michael VIII Palaiologos. After this, Latin-dominated states survived only in the Peloponnese, such as the Duchy of Athens. Baldwin II and his son went to Southern Italy, transferring their title “emperor” and their claims to the Latin Empire – as we will see – to the Anjou king Charles I of Naples and his successors.13
From 1261 onwards, the emperor of Constantinople was an emperor without empire. Does this mean that the Italian princes mentioned above had been intoxicated with a seductive, but vain promise? In my contribution I will try to answer this question and to explain the dynamics of an “intoxication with virtuality”. I will firstly present my own understanding of empires resp. imperial communities. Secondly, I will analyze the situation in the Balkans, in Southern Italy and the Aegean world in the 12th and 13th centuries and take a closer look at the biography of Charles of Anjou. Against this background I will finally try to judge the politics of the South-Italian princes towards the Aegean world.
What are the distinct features of an empire and of imperial rule? There are many possible definitions and indicators and many theories on empires. The German historian Hans-Heinrich Nolte enumerates the following seven attributes that define an ideal empire: 1. in general, a hierarchical system governed by a monarchic apex; 2. a close cooperation between church and crown; 3. a comprehensive bureaucracy; 4. an administration increasingly based on written records; 5. centrally raised taxes; 6. a diversity of provinces; and 7. marginal participation of the subjects.14←299 | 300→
I would add two more characteristics to this list: 1. Extension in quantity: an empire must cover a vast area incorporating many nations. The imperial idea is often connected with the notion of proclaiming dominance over the world or, more precisely, of representing a world on its own. 2. The quality of imperial rule may differ: from direct administration by magistrates to the indirect rule of vassals or more or less symbolic tributes. Hence, imperial reign, in some cases, may be restricted to a virtual sphere.15
What elements are necessary to maintain an empire? ‘Active factors’ that play a crucial role are strong military forces, a joint legal system, administrators or magistrates and taxes or tributes to refinance the public organization. However, ‘passive factors’ are of great importance, too. The elite groups of the periphery strive after the model represented by an apparently mighty centre, spread through coins, charters, law books and splendidly dressed office holders.16 This ‘mimicry’ has been an important starting point for postcolonial studies, such as the most influential works of Homi Bhabha.17
The “personal factor” may be even more important for all pre-modern and especial medieval forms of empires. I suggested rather focusing on analyzing the personal elements of empires than on political entities. I therefore re-introduced the concept “imperiale Ordnungen”,18 which might be translated as “imperial communities”. This concept or approach enables us to analyze the continuous interdependence of imperial ideas or knowledge of empires and the contemporary situation of individuals or groups ruling over vast areas.19←300 | 301→
Imperial communities are in some way the personal networks of empires. They can be defined by: 1. the possibility of their leaders to threaten to use military, economic or sacral power; 2. great wealth; 3. sea power; 4. control over resources in a vast area; 5. a wide horizon of political and economic relations; 6., and resulting from 4 and 5, the core aim of the community, namely: hegemony in a vast area.20 One characteristic feature of imperial communities is their hierarchical organization and a strong integrative power via the high estimation of their members towards their leader; the imperial community could bask in the sun of a gilded monarch being immediate to God and to no one else. Members of these imperial communities would therefore – besides their own economic interests and their interest in keeping their position – try to support the monarch and to keep up the hierarchical structures, even in the case that the empire itself – considered as territorial unity – had vanished.21 The personal network will remain much longer.
In this case, the figure of the titular emperor, titular king or titular prince – in some cases with a whole “government in exile” – could maintain claims to rule in the lost territory for the former elite. These titles and claims were inheritable via agnatic or cognatic succession – a fact which insured that a certain imperial community could survive over several decades. These “virtual” imperial communities could even become more integrated if the descendants of the holders of a virtual title were marrying each other, thereby accumulating titles and claims. This made even a virtual title valuable for ambitious princes who tried to gain their own realm or for those who wanted to enhance their rank. These aspirants draw upon the members of the former imperial community.
One of these virtual titles was “King of Thessalonica”.22 But how did this title come into being and how did it become a “virtual title”? In order to answer these questions, we have to go a little bit further back in history←301 | 302→ and cast a glance at Byzantine-Hungarian relations in the 12th century. The Kingdom of Hungary belonged to the surrounding “belt” of the Byzantine Empire. In the 10th and 11th centuries, intensified contacts between the Byzantine emperors and the Hungarian rulers were established and the relations quickly became closer.23 The interrelations were, however, not always harmonious: in Byzantine eyes, Hungary was an important client state. Consequently, Byzantine diplomates tried to support those candidates for the Hungarian throne whom they thought to be the most loyal ones. Armed conflicts between Hungarian and Byzantine forces resulted from this policy.24
Certainly, Byzantine emperors never attempted to conquer Hungary. But in the 12th century tensions increased during the reign of the Byzantine emperor Manuel Komnenos. Manuel attempted to strengthen his control over the Croatian and Dalmatian area as well as over the Hungarian kingdom by making the younger brother of King Stephen III, Béla, his close ally. Manuel called Béla to his court, promised him his daughter Maria (later wife of Reiner of Montferrat) and gave him the rank despotés. After the death of Stephen III in 1172, Béla was – without a Byzantine spouse – sent back to Hungary and became King Béla III. As Béla intended to maintain a close coalition with the Byzantine Empire, he arranged a marriage between his daughter Margaret / Maria and Isaac II Angelos in 1186.25 She should – as wife of Boniface of Montferrat – later become the queen of Thessalonica.
Around 1200, the son of Béla – Emeric I (1196–1204) – expanded the Hungarian influence over former Byzantine territory and clashed with Venice on Zara, which had been acquired by his father. The conquest of←302 | 303→ Zara by the crusaders of the Fourth Crusade combined several strands: after the capture of Constantinople, Boniface of Montferrat became king of Thessalonica and married the already mentioned Margaret / Maria of Hungary. Isaac II had died in 1204 and so Margaret / Maria was as his widow holding some claims to the throne of Constantinople. After 1204 Boniface and Margaret seemed to have established diplomatic contacts with the Hungarian king and received military support. The Hungarian king Emeric and Boniface fought together against the Bulgarian king Kalojan. They complained to pope Innocent III that Kalojan had taken Margaret’s dowry.26
After Emeric’s death his brother Andrew II prevailed over Emeric’s son and his wife Constance of Aragon and became Hungarian king. For the next years, Andrew concentrated his ambitions on the Russian principality of Galicia. Meanwhile, in 1205, the Bulgarian forces overwhelmed the Latins in the battle of Adrianople and killed the Latin emperor Baldwin; two years later, Boniface, too, was killed in a Bulgarian ambush. Around 1214 the situation had changed: the new Latin emperor Henry, the new Bulgarian emperor Boril, and King Andrew of Hungary searched for an alliance: Henry married the cousin of Boril (Mary) and Andrew married the niece of Henry (Yolanda de Courtenay) shortly after his famous first wife Gertrude of Merania had been killed.27
Margaret of Thessalonica seems to have played an important part in negotiating these marriages. Her realm, the kingdom of Thessalonica, was under pressure: after the death of her husband Boniface, a group of Lombard nobles under the regent Oberto II of Biandrate tried to replace Boniface’s and Margaret’s son Demetrius with Boniface’s elder son William VI of Montferrat.28 Obviously these nobles were discontented with the policy of Boniface and Margaret – especially with their tolerant policy towards←303 | 304→ the Greek population. The so called Lombard Rebellion of 1209 was soon put down by Emperor Henry. The kingdom of Thessalonica, however, was soon captured by Byzantine forces. After being expulsed from his kingdom by Theodore Komnenos Dukas, Demetrius fled to the court of Emperor Frederick II in Italy.29 He died 1230 after ceding his title “King of Thessalonica” to Frederick – a title established by the military force of the Fourth Crusade and carrying the virtual power of a coalition of the Byzantine and Hungarian imperial communities and legitimizing the claims to the throne of Constantinople. What was Frederick’s interest in this title?
In Southern Italy the Normans had become a disruptive factor in the 11th and 12th centuries.30 Conquering the whole peninsula of Southern Italy and Sicily, the Norman kings got involved in severe conflicts with the Byzantines, the Roman emperors and the popes. But besides these conflicts, all three imperial powers from time to time tried to come to terms with the Normans by “personal” means of vassalage, the donation of ranks and marriages.31 The Sicilian kings themselves increasingly turned into members←304 | 305→ of the European “royal society” as advocati papae and ideal crusaders.32 After the foundation of the Kingdom of Sicily, marriages provided the wider integration of the Normans into the European high nobility and the contact with the Sicilian realm to Europe. The wife of King Roger II, Elvira, was the daughter of Alfonso VI of León and Castile, the imperator totius hispaniae.33 In addition, the chronicler Kinnamos reports that Roger demanded from the Basileus a princess for one of his sons, and to be of equal rank as the Basileus.34
But this was perhaps not enough: many of the Normans’ campaigns – especially the one led by Robert Guiscard – strove for the heart of the Byzantine Empire.35 All of Robert’s royal successors as rulers of Southern Italy – up to Charles I of Anjou – are said to have planned to conquer Constantinople.36 But the activities of the Norman imperial community did not primarily strive for a new rank of their leader. With their conquest of Southern Italy, the Normans had also acquired certain junctions of the trans-Mediterranean network of trade.37 These networks were very stable←305 | 306→ and survived – with some changes – almost all political and religious upheavals in the Mediterranean world.38 For the Normans, as for almost all other rulers, trade and taxes were of great importance because they provided the wealth needed for war, for the living expenses of the noble elite and for a magnificent representation of the king integrating the imperial community of Southern Italy.
Wealth played a pivotal role in maintaining military force: the mercenary troops of Norman Sicily exceeded feudal papal and imperial forces. The Normans commanded strong forces they had at their disposal for a longer time than their adversaries, which proved to be one of the main stabilising factors of Norman rule. The mighty Norman fleet as one of the deciding factors of Norman power was also very expensive.39 Economic and trade relations also influenced the Norman expansion.
The ways of trade prefigured the streets of war.40 This does not mean that the aims of Norman or almost any “Western” expansion in the Middle-Ages generally were of territorial nature. This is the main difference from all cases of imperialism in 19th century.41 In the Middle Ages, much more←306 | 307→ emphasis was put on regions, islands or cities characterized by great wealth (e.g. from wheat or silk) or important resources (like gold, iron, alum); their central position in-between trans-Mediterranean routes also played a role.42 Medieval empires were trade-post empires. The medieval seaborne imperial communities were first and foremost looking for prey.43 A second aim of expansion might have been of religious or ideal nature (like the conquest for the Holy Land).44 But crusades aiming at Palestine or other Muslim countries had almost never – besides the First Crusade – resulted in “new dominions”. Far from that! Many crusades aiming at the Holy Land had been very expensive and could only be afforded by communities which were already very wealthy and wanted to ornate themselves with the palm leafs of crusaders.45
Economic interests could also limit the risk of military interventions: hence, this must be considered as the background for the anecdote describing Roger’s II rude response to a request to initiate war with northern Africa.46 In addition, mediators between different worlds crossed the←307 | 308→ borders along the lines of travel and commerce, introducing information and knowledge from all over the Mediterranean. The Norman policy of pragmatic tolerance is to be localised within the wider context of these developments.47 The Norman realm was not some sort of home of the terreur du monde, but rather an empire keeping peace and enabling exchange. In the case of the Western military operations in the Mediterranean resp. Aegean in the 13th and 14th centuries things might have been more complicated. At this time a set of virtual titles of former realms existed that not only legitimized military efforts, but rather demanded from the members of an imperial community to help their leaders to reinstall the “government in exile” in their former dominions.
The turn of the tide came with the arrival of the Hohenstaufen dynasty in Southern Italy. Henry VI and Frederick II after some struggles took over the leading position inside the imperial community of the Norman realm and with this position also the administrative and military apparatus, the fleet and the dominance over certain junctions of the trans-Mediterranean trade-network.48 The connections between the Sicilian-Hohenstaufen elite of Southern Italy, the elite of the Byzantine Empire and the Muslim realms remained tense. The attitude of Frederick II towards the papal aims – a new crusade to “free the Holy Land” and support for the Latin Empire – was conflicting: besides supporting the crusader-states strongly, he tried to come←308 | 309→ to terms with Sultan Al Kamil.49 He also showed some sympathy for the Nicaean emperor, a foe of the Latin emperor. The acquisition of the title of “King of Thessalonica” mentioned above might have been an attempt to establish a base for realizing old aims of the Normans in the Aegean world.50 If Frederick had not been involved in a destructing war against the Lombard league and the popes, he might have developed these starts. After Frederick’s death in 1250 the popes looked for a new King of Sicily, a king who wanted to put all resources of the imperial community of Southern Italy into the realization of the papal aims. One of these candidates was Charles of Anjou.
Born in 1226, Charles was the youngest son of King Louis VIII of France. In France Charles was invested with appanages that had been only recently acquired by the French king: Provence, Anjou and Maine.51 Afterwards Charles unsuccessfully tried to acquire the County of Hainaut in the War of The Flemish Succession in the 1250s.52 His hunger for land was not yet satisfied. Over the years Charles became a specialist in planning conquests politically and realizing them militarily.
Charles got also in touch with the Mediterranean world and its special ideas of emperors as he joined his brother Louis IX in the Seventh Crusade.53 Crusades were of great importance for broadening the horizon of political communities and single persons. Going on crusade helped the participat←309 | 310→ing nobles to gain insight into geographical factors, economic conditions and possibilities to make money and into the infrastructure necessary to transport a great amount of men, horses, weapons and food via sea. And crusades allowed them to acquire the knowledge of the legitimating and supporting potential of the popes for almost any kind of warfare.54
Certainly, Charles also got to know about the Mediterranean empire of Frederick II. He met the Latin emperor of Constantinople, Baldwin II, in Damiette.55 Afterwards he argued with the city of Marseille, which he wanted to integrate into his reign.56 In this conflict, Marseille joined the city of Pisa in the strange election of Alfonso X of Castile as the new Roman emperor: by this election both cities tried to preserve their freedom. In his struggle with the city of Marseille Charles certainly learned that the Mediterranean was not as strict as the Northern European world when it came to the control of imperial rank.57
The imperial quality of the virtual titles connecting Western and Southern Europe with the Aegean world helps us to understand the fascination of the French princes eager to obtain them. Especially in the 11th and 12th centuries the insidious and subliminal decrease of power of the Byzantine Empire enabled certain Western princes and their followers to seize the gilded traditions of the Byzantine imperial community as well as elements of its symbolic communication. This was the case in Sicily, where the Normans imitated the rituals and symbols of the Byzantine emperor.58 It was also the case in Constantinople in 1204, when a Flemish count was elected to be successor of the Byzantine emperors. In the case of Sicily, an imperial community arose which controlled large parts of the Mediterranean←310 | 311→ during the Norman and Hohenstaufen period. In the case of the Latin Empire, however, the imperial community was only half-pint, more title than empire.59 Charles I of Anjou played an important part in combining both traditions.
After Frederick’s death, the imperial community of Sicily did not disappear. The legitimacy of Manfred, the illegitimate son of Frederick II, was disputed.60 Nevertheless, Manfred was able to follow his father’s policy against papal intentions: during the papal attempts to depose him, Manfred came into contact with Peter III of Aragon. In 1262 Peter married Manfred’s and Helena’s daughter, Constantia. With this marriage Peter could once legitimate his landing in Sicily following the Sicilian Vespre and his attempts to conquer the whole Angevin reign in Southern Italy.61
Manfred was also strongly involved in the problems of the Peloponnese: together with the Prince of Achaea, William II of Villehardouin, Manfred was allied with Michael II Angelos, the ruler of the Despotate of Epirus, which at this time included not only Epirus in northwestern Greece but also the western part of Greek Macedonia and Thessaly and parts of western Greece.62 Manfred married Michael’s daughter, Helena Angelina Doukaina, and with the dowry he acquired the rights for Dyrrhachium and the is←311 | 312→land of Corfu.63 The coalition of Michael, Manfred and William tried to re-conquer Thessalonica from Niacean forces, but the coalition was soon after beaten by Nicaean forces in the Battle of Pelagonia 1259.64 Two years after this battle, Constantinople was seized by Nicaean forces, and the Latin emperor Baldwin II fled to Negroponte.65 The Byzantine recapture of Constantinople led the popes to the conviction that Sicily was not only to be considered the main base for a new crusade – as it had been under Frederick II. Sicily should rather first be the main base for the recapture of Constantinople and then, only together with Constantinople, it would be the main base for a new crusade (under French leadership).66
This leads us to the important role of the papacy in the Mediterranean. In the late 11th century the papacy was on its way to becoming an important Mediterranean power. The papacy had been founded in the slipstream of the late antique Roman Empire. It then maneuvered into the inter-imperial space between the Frankish and Byzantine Empires and rose with the es←312 | 313→tablishment of the Western Roman Empire.67 The density of the interconnections between the papacy and Byzantium changed over time. For a long time the maritime connectivity between Constantinople, Ravenna and Rome helped the papacy to survive the storms of the Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. But with the Arab expansion some of the trans-Mediterranean connections had been interrupted. With the arrival of the Normans in Southern Italy and the crusades, the popes were involved in the problems of the Mediterranean world.68
Furthermore, as a result of the Gregorian reform in the 11th century, the popes with their claims to far-reaching competences over the national churches of Europe considered emperors and kings of Western Europe ratione peccati as office holders to be under their spiritual control, but the popes also began to consider some of the European kings as direct vassals to the seat of St. Peter.69 Hence, from the 11th century onwards, with the papacy there was a third power – beside the Western Roman and the Byzantine emperor – that claimed to legitimate and to control royal rule. An important point in the papal scheme of evaluation was if the Christian monarchs were willing to listen to the papal admonitions, to fulfill the papal will, to fight against heretics and to go crusading.
Manfred was failing in all points. The mentioned papal arguments concerning the position of Sicily as the stepping stone for a new crusade convinced Louis IX, too, to give up his opposition against the disposal of the Hohenstaufen in Sicily. For two years, pope Urban IV negotiated with Manfred about his possible support regarding the recapture of Constan←313 | 314→tinople. Parallel, however, Urban negotiated with Charles of Anjou about the conditions of substituting Manfred. These negotiations and Charles’ war against Manfred were successful.70
For the pope, Charles was a very capable but also dangerous candidate. He was keen to rule his own realm, and though in many points his political aims corresponded with the aims of the curia, he was not willing to subordinate his power completely to papal supremacy. Charles’ intentions apparently were to take over all the power and all the honors of the Hohenstaufen and to become an adequate leader of the imperial community of Sicily.71
He not only was appointed senator of Rome but was also crowned king of Sicily in St. Peter’s Church, perhaps with an ordo normally used to crown emperors.72 The imperial community of Sicily partly accepted Charles, but the composition of this imperial community changed: more and more French officials came to Southern Italy with Charles. This new imperial community took over some of the traditional aims of Norman resp. Hohenstaufen time and combined them with the aims of French-speaking nobles of the Mediterranean.73←314 | 315→
This new imperial community of Southern Italy was keen to rule over Dalmatia, the Peloponnese, Northern Africa, some of the islands of the Levant, the kingdom of Jerusalem and probably Constantinople.74 Then, after the conquest of Constantinople in 1261 Baldwin II, the former Latin emperor of Constantinople, came to Southern Italy. For him, Charles of Anjou was the central figure in his hope to recapture Constantinople. Baldwin had been desperately and often fruitlessly looking for support for a new military campaign. Even in the years before 1261, Baldwin had travelled around the courts of Europe trying to collect money and help for his dominion.75
In 1267, Baldwin and Charles concluded the treaty of Viterbo to recapture Constantinople together: Charles should directly obtain Albania and Corfu and he should become suzerain over Achaea and over most of the Aegean islands – traditional Norman and Hohenstaufen aims. Furthermore, he should receive one third of the conquered land. Charles himself only had to equip 2000 knights for the war against Byzantium. Constantinople itself should be reserved for Baldwin. Baldwin’s only son Philip of Courtenay had to marry Beatrice, Charles’ daughter. If they both would die without heirs, their rights would return to Charles himself.76←315 | 316→
This pact, however, was not only concluded between Baldwin and Charles. Among the contracting parties was also the Prince of Achaea, William II Villehardouin. So in a way, the remains of the imperial community of the Latin Empire joined the connection as well, or rather they had worked for the signing of the treaty. The Franks in the Aegean accepted Charles as their feudal lord to save their estates. Further regulations said that Charles’ son Philip should marry William’s daughter, Isabella of Villehardouin. Philip later took the title of “King of Thessalonica”. Again, at a very important point for the history of the relations between East and West, this title appears. But how had this title come to Philip? The complexity of the lines of title holders shows to some degree the different connections between the Mediterranean communities and the attempts of the Angevins to hold control over the Frankish Aegean world.
As we have mentioned, Frederick II had acquired the title “King of Thessalonica” from Demetrius. In 1239 Frederick gave the title to Bonifatius II of Montferrat (son of William VI). After the death of Bonifatius, the title came to his son William VII. William gave this title as dowry to his daughter Yolande when she was marrying the Byzantine emperor Andronikos II Palaiologos. With its return to Byzantium, this “Western line of virtuality” had finished.77 But there were other lines of virtuality concerning the kingdom of Thessalonica: the Latin emperor Baldwin II had also sold the title “King of Thessalonica” to Hugh IV, duke of Burgundy78 (the rights of the Montferrat were seen as null and void because they came from Frederick, a disposed emperor and condemned heretic). The title was transmitted over decades in the family of the dukes of Burgundy up to Hugh V. Hugh V exchanged the title for the heritage of his brother Louis of Burgundy. Louis himself was also “Prince of Achaea”: he married in 1313 Matilda of Hainaut, the daughter of Isabella of Villardouin. The marriage was intended to unite the Angevin and Burgundian houses and perhaps to concentrate the virtual Aegean titles in one hand.79
There was a third line of virtuality: in 1274 Philipp of Anjou was granted the title of “King of Thessalonica”. This third “kingship” followed from←316 | 317→ the treaty of Viterbo. In this treaty it was agreed upon that the donation of Thessalonica to Hugh (second “line of virtuality”) was only valid if Hugh would support Baldwin and his heir, Philip of Courtenay, in recuperating Constantinople. In the case that Hugh would fail, the kingdom should go to Charles I and his heirs. So in 1274 Philip of Courtenay, the heir of Baldwin II, gave the title to Philip of Anjou.80
After the early death of Philipp of Anjou in 1277 the whole area formerly claimed by the Latin emperor was theoretically in the hands of Charles of Anjou and his heirs: he held the titles of “King of Thessalonica” and was heir to the title of “Prince of Achaea” (after the death of William of Villehardouin). Charles was leader of two imperial communities, united in his person to form a new imperial community: the community of Sicily and the community of the former Latin empire.81
The realization of Charles’ claims and the territorial expansion into the Aegean did, however, not really work: Charles succeeded in some way to redirect the Eighth Crusade to Tunis, whose lords had been vassals to Norman and Hohenstaufen kings and emperors over centuries. Charles evidently did not want to have his brother’s crusade near Constantinople, but what was more important: the Byzantine emperor Michael VIII Palaiologus cleverly propagated the union of the Greek and the Latin church and so the pope prohibited all attempts to recapture Constantinople. It was only from 1280 onwards that Charles tried to realize his claims concerning Constantinople: as Martin IV was well-disposed towards Charles, he allowed a new crusade against the Byzantine emperor in order to recapture Constantinople. Furthermore, as William II Villehardouin had died in 1278, Charles was now – as mentioned above – Prince of Achaea. Venice promised support and so Charles could probably assemble 400 ships and←317 | 318→ around 27.000 men. The Sicilian Vespers, however, prevented Charles from attacking Constantinople.82
But the claims were maintained: the title “Emperor of Constantinople”, inherited by the daughter of Philip of Courtenay, Catherine, along with the titles “Prince of Achaea”, “King of Thessalonica” and “Lord of the Kingdom of Albania” contained the legitimating potential for the expansion of an imperial community. This imperial community – as we have seen – consisted now of members who shared manifold knowledge and various ideas of ruling over vast areas: traditions of Norman and Hohenstaufen Sicily combined with traditions of the Aegean realm and of the French kingdom. The hegemony in the Mediterranean world, which this community, bound together by the leadership of Charles I, possessed from 1266 till 1282, made it possible to conquer or collect titles that legitimated and decorated the imperial rule of its leader, Charles of Anjou.
After the death of Charles the titles were split between different branches of the Capetian dynasty and other French-speaking dynasties. The most important title “Prince of Achaea” was for example held by Charles II, his sons Philip I of Taranto and King Robert I of Sicily and also by Robert of Taranto, Philip II of Taranto and finally James of Baux. This title was often combined with the even more respected title “Emperor of Constantinople” as it was the case with Philip I of Taranto, Robert of Taranto, Philipp II of Taranto and James of Baux.83
These titles had not only been panoplies or hollow words: they were containers of legitimating potential and traditions for ruling the Aegean world, they ornated their holders with a high rank and a potentially important role in the history of salvation, connecting them closely to the popes. With these titles “affinities of engagement and marriage” were established, within the French-speaking nobility, but also between the French, Spanish, Italian and Hungarian nobles and more generally between the Western world and←318 | 319→ Byzantium. These titles were the symbolic summit of a whole “mountain range” of personal networks spreading over countries and continents, over dynastic and language boundaries; they integrated and stabilized these imperial communities (e.g. via matrimony) and made them capable of acting. For the members of the imperial communities in exile, these titles symbolized and held forth wealth and territories which could be achieved if they supported their holder.
The princes mentioned above were – like their ancestor Charles of Anjou – trying to find their own estate and to realize their inherited claims. The possibilities and tensions within the imperial communities determined at which point and how successful these princes were realizing their plans. There was however a great, deadly danger: being member of an imperial community could intoxicate you with virtuality.←319 | 320→ ←320 | 321→
1 Valois, Noël: “L’expédition et la mort de Louis Ier d’Anjou en Italie (1382–1384)”. Revue des questions historiques 55 (NS 11), 1894, pp. 84–153; de Mérindol, Christian: Le roi René et la seconde maison d’Anjou. Emblématique art histoire. Léopard d’Or: Paris 1987, pp. 25–37. See for the European context: Autrand, Françoise: Charles VI. le sage. Fayard: Paris 1995.
2 See in general Dade, Erwin: Versuche zur Wiedererrichtung der lateinischen Herrschaft in Konstantinopel im Rahmen der abendländischen Politik 1261 bis etwa 1310. Fromann: Jena 1938; Jostkleigrewe, Georg: “heres imperii Constantinopolitani – frater regis Franciae – defensor populi christiani. Zur Deutung konkurrierender Legitimationskonstruktionen im Umfeld der französischen Mittelmeerpolitk des frühen 14. Jahrhunderts”. In: Brandt, Hartwin / Köhler, Katrin / Siewert, Ulrike (eds.): Genealogisches Bewusstsein als Legitimation. Inter-und intragenerationelle Auseinandersetzungen sowie die Bedeutung von Verwandtschaft bei Amtswechseln. University of Bamberg Press: Bamberg 2010, pp. 167–192
3 Lock, Peter: The Franks in the Aegean, 1204–1500. Longman: New York 1995, pp. 67, 133–134; Setton, Kenneth M.: Catalan Domination of Athens 1311–1380. Revised edition. Variorum: London 1975, pp. 99, 118, 127–132.
4 Andreas Kiesewetter: “Filippo I d’Angiò, imperatore nominale di Costantinopoli”. In: Bartoccini, Fiorella (ed.): Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, vol. 47 (Ferrero-Filonardi). Istituto della Enciclopedia Italiana: Rome 1997, pp. 717–723; Topping, Peter: “The Morea, 1311–1364”. In: Hazard, Harry W. (ed.): A History of the Crusades, vol. 3: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia: 1975, pp. 104–140, esp. pp. 106–117; cf. also there the article of Geanakoplos, Deno: “Byzantium and the Crusades, 1354–1453”, pp. 27–68; Nicol, Donald MacGillivray: The Despotate of Epiros 1267–1479. A Contribution to the History of Greece in the Middle Ages. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 1984, pp. 44–82.
5 Petit, Joseph: Charles de Valois (1270–1325). Paris 1900, esp. pp. 106–115; Housley, Norman: The Later Crusades. 1274–1580. From Lyons to Alcazar. Oxford University Press: Oxford 1992, pp. 53–56; Laiou, Angeliki E.: Constantinople and the Latins. The Foreign Policy of Andronicus II, 1282–1328. Harvard University Press: Cambridge (Mass.) 1972, pp. 129–130, 200–242; See for the context Shneidman, Jerome Lee: The Rise of the Aragonese-Catalan Empire, 1200–1350, 2. vols. New York University Press: New York: 1970; Hillgarth, J. N.: The Problem of a Catalan Mediterranean Empire, 1229–1327. Longman: London 1975.
6 For Achaea see von Löhneysen, Wolfgang: Mistra. Griechenlands Schicksal im Mittelalter. Morea unter Franken, Byzantinern und Osmanen. Prestel: Munich 1977, pp. 18–67; Jacobi, David: “The Latin Empire of Constantinople and the Frankish States in Greece”. In: Abulafia, David (ed.): The New Cambridge Medieval History, vol. 5: c. 1198-c. 1300. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 1999, pp. 525–542; Bon, Antoine: La Morée franque. Recherches historiques, topographiques et archéologiques sur la principauté d’Achaïe. De Boccard: Paris 1969; Longnon, Jean: “The Frankish States in Greece, 1204–1311”. In: Wolff, Robert Lee / Hazard, Harry W (eds.): A History of the Crusades, vol. 2: The Later Crusades, 1189–1311. University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia 1969, pp. 234–275; Topping, “The Morea, 1311–1364” 1975; Topping, Peter: “The Morea, 1364–1460”. In: Hazard, Harry W. (ed.): A History of the Crusades, vol. 3: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia 1975, pp. 141–166.
7 For the kingdom of Albania cf. Abulafia, David: “Intercultural Contacts in the Medieval Mediterranean”. In: Arbel, Benjamin (ed.): Intercultural Contacts in the Medieval Mediterranean. Cass: London 1996, pp. 1–13; Ducellier, Alain: “Albania, Serbia and Bulgaria”. In: Abulafia, David (ed.): The New Cambridge Medieval History, vol. 5: c. 1198-c. 1300. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 1999, pp. 779–795; Fine, John van Antwerp: The Late Medieval Balkans: A Critical Survey from the Late Twelfth Century to the Ottoman Conquest. University of Michigan Press: Ann Arbor 1994; Lala, Etleva: Regnum Albaniae, the Papal Curia, and the Western Visions of a Borderline Nobility. CEU eTD Collection: Budapest 2008.
8 Burkhardt, Stefan: Mediterranes Kaisertum und imperiale Ordnungen. Das lateinische Kaiserreich von Konstantinopel. (Europa im Mittelalter 25). Akademie Verlag / De Gruyter: Berlin / Boston 2014, pp. 205–216.
9 Virtuality in the sense of Luhmann is “eng verbunden bis bedeutungsgleich mit dem Möglichen (…). Luhmanns Medium ist ein virtuelles Davor und Während. Es ist zugleich virtuell und Möglichkeitsbereitstellend, denn ‘aktuell kann nur sein, was auch möglich ist.’ Was aktuell ist, geht jedoch von etwas Virtuellem aus, in welchem die Möglichkeit eben jener Aktualität angelegt ist. In jener Aktualität, in der Form, wird die vorausgegangene Virtualität wahrnehmbar”, vgl. Völker, Clara: Mobile Medien. Zur Genealogie des Mobilfunks und zur Ideengeschichte von Virtualität. (Kultur und Medientheorie). Transcript-Verlag: Bielefeld 2010, p. 299; Luhmann, Niklas: Die Kunst der Gesellschaft. Suhrkamp: Frankfurt a. M. 1995, p. 174.
10 Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014; Jacoby, David: Latin Romania and the Mediterranean. Aldershot: Ashgate 2001; Madden, Thomas (ed.): The Fourth Crusade. Event, Aftermath, and Perceptions. Papers From the Sixth Conference of the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East, Istanbul, Turkey, 25–29 August 2004. (Papers from the … conference of the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East 6 / Crusades-Subsidia 2). Ashgate: Aldershot / Burlington 2008; Aalst, Victoria D. van / Ciggaar, Krijnie N. (eds.): The Latin Empire. Some Contributions. Bredius: Hernen 1990; Tricht, Filip van: The Latin Renovatio of Byzantium: The Empire of Constantinople (1204–1228). Brill: Leiden 2011.
11 Burkhardt, Stefan: “Court Ceremonies and Rituals of Power in the Latin Empire of Constantinople”. In: Beihammer, Alexander / Constantinou Stavroula / Parani, Maria (eds.): Court Ceremonies and Rituals of Power in Byzantium and the Medieval Mediterranean. Comparative Perspectives. (The Medieval Mediterranean 98). Brill: Leiden / Boston 2013, pp. 277–290, here: 277–284.
12 Ibid., pp. 285–290.
13 Lock 1995, pp. 66–67.
14 Nolte, Hans-Heinrich: Imperien. Eine vergleichende Studie. Wochenschau Verlag: Schwalbach 2008, p. 14.
15 Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014, pp. 213–216.
16 Burkhardt, Stefan: “Sicily’s Imperial Heritage”. In: Burkhardt, Stefan / Foerster, Thomas (eds.): Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage: Exchange of Cultures in the ‘Norman’ Peripheries of Medieval Europe. Ashgate: Farnham 2013, pp. 149–160, here: p. 151.
17 Bhabha, Homi K.: The Location of Culture. Routledge: London 2010, pp. 121–131.
18 See for the original use of the expression Münckler, Herfried: Imperien. Die Logik der Weltherrschaft – vom Alten Rom bis zu den Vereinigten Staaten. Rowohlt: Berlin 2006.
19 See for another attempt to conceptualize the personal dimension of empires: Bates, David: The Normans and Empire. The Ford Lectures Delivered in the University of Oxford during Hilary Term 2010. Oxford University Press: Oxford 2013.
20 Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014, pp. 217–223.
21 Ibid., pp. 205–216, 241–255.
22 See for the kingdom of Thessalonica Pokorny, Rudolf: “Der territoriale Umfang des lateinischen Königreiches Thessaloniki”. Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 62, 2006, pp. 537–606; Wellas, Michael Basilius: Das westliche Kaiserreich und das lateinische Königreich Thessalonike. Basilopoulos: Athens 1987.
23 See in general Curta, Florin: Southeastern Europe in the Middle Ages. 500–1250. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 2006, pp. 111–247; Shepard, Jonathan: “Byzantium and the Steppe-Nomads: The Hungarian Dimension”. In: Prinzing, Günter / Salamon, Maciej (eds.): Byzanz und Ostmitteleuropa 950–1453. Beiträge zu einer table-ronde des XIX International Congress of Byzantine Studies, Copenhagen 1996. Harrassowitz: Wiesbaden 1999, pp. 55–83.
24 Makk, Ferenc: The Árpáds and the Comneni: Political Relations between Hungary and Byzantium in the 12th Century. Akadémiai Kiadó és Nyomda Vállalat: Budapest 1989, p. 10.
25 Ibid., pp. 79–124; see in general Varga, Gábor: Ungarn und das Reich vom 10. bis zum 13. Jahrhundert. Das Herrscherhaus der Árpáden zwischen Anlehnung und Emanzipation. Verlag Ungarisches Institut: Munich 2003.
26 Prinzing, Günter: Die Bedeutung Bulgariens und Serbiens in den Jahren 1204–1219 im Zusammenhang mit der Entstehung und Entwicklung der byzantinischen Teilstaaten nach der Einnahme Konstantinopels infolge des 4. Kreuzzuges (Miscellanea Byzantina Monacensia 12). Institut für Byzantinistik und Neugriechische Philologie der Universität: Munich 1972, pp. 25–35.
27 Van Tricht 2011, pp. 388–396 and in general pp. 409–421.
28 Gerland, Ernst: Geschichte des lateinischen Kaiserreiches von Konstantinopel, Teil 1: Geschichte der Kaiser Balduin I. und Heinrich, 1204–1216. Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft: Darmstadt 1966, repr. of Homburg v. d. Höhe 1905, pp. 117, 161–190.
29 Wellas 1987, pp. 113–120.
30 Reuter, Timothy: “Vom Parvenü zum Bündnispartner. Das Königreich Sizilien in der abendländischen Politik des 12. Jahrhunderts”. In: Kölzer, Theo (ed.): Die Staufer im Süden. Sizilien und das Reich. Thorbecke: Sigmaringen 1996, pp. 43–56; Deér, József: Papsttum und Normannen. Untersuchungen zu ihren lehnsrechtlichen und kirchenpolitischen Beziehungen. (Studien und Quellen zur Welt Kaiser Friedrichs II. 1). Böhlau: Cologne / Graz 1972; Burkhardt, Stefan / Foerster, Thomas (eds.): Norman Tradition and Transcultural Heritage. Exchanges of Cultures in the Norman Peripheries of Medieval Europe. Ashgate: Farnham 2014.
31 Tramontana, Salvatore: “Popolazione, distribuzione della terra e classe sociali nella Sicilia di Ruggero il Gran Conte”. In: Ruggero il Gran Conte e I’inizio dello Stato normanno. Relazioni e comunicazioni nelle seconde giornate normanno-sveve (Bari, maggio 1975). (Fonti e studi del Corpus membranarum Italicarum 12). Il Centro di Ricerca: Rome 1977, pp. 213–270, here: pp. 216–239; Drell, Joanna H.: Kinship and Conquest. Family Strategies in the Principality of Salerno during the Norman period. 1077–1194. Cornell University Press: Ithaca 2002; Loud, Graham A.: The Age of Robert Guiscard. Southern Italy and the Norman Conquest. Longman: Harlow / Munich 2000.
32 Reuter 1996.
33 Reilly, Bernard F.: The Kingdom of León-Castilla under King Alfonso VI. 1065–1109. Princeton University Press: Princeton, New Jersey 1988, pp. 103–104.
34 John Kinnamos, Deeds of John and Manuel Comnenus, (trans.) Charles M. Brandt. Columbia University Press: New York 1976, lib. 3, c. 2, pp. 75–76.
35 Theotokis, Georgios: The Norman Campaigns in the Balkans. 1081–1108. Boydell Press: Woodbridge 2014.
36 Houben, Hubert: Roger II. von Sizilien. Herrscher zwischen Orient und Okzident. (Gestalten des Mittelalters und der Renaissance). 2nd edition. Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft: Darmstadt 2010, pp. 89–91; Hunger, Herbert (ed.): Die Normannen in Thessalonike. Die Eroberung von Thessalonike durch die Normannen (1185 n. Chr.) in der Augenzeugenschilderung des Bischofs Eustathios. (Byzantinische Geschichtsschreiber 3). Styria: Graz / Cologne 1955; Schlichte, Annkristin: Der “gute” König. Wilhelm II. von Sizilien (1166–1189). (Bibliothek des Deutschen Historischen Instituts in Rom 110). Niemeyer: Tübingen 2005, pp. 293–301.
37 Abulafia, David: “The Merchants of Messina: Levant Trade and Domestic Economy”. Papers of the British School at Rome 54, 1986, pp. 196–212; Gertwagen, Ruth / Jeffreys, Elizabeth (eds.): Shipping, Trade and Crusade in the Medieval Mediterranean. Studies in Honour of John Pryor. Ashgate: Farnham 2012; Goldberg, Jessica L.: Institutions and Geographies of Trade in the Medieval Mediterranean. The Business World of the Maghribi Traders. (Cambridge Studies in Economic History). Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 2012; Stuckey, Jace (ed.): Eastern Mediterranean Frontier of Latin Christendom. Ashgate: Farnham 2014.
38 This does of course not mean that trade relations did not change over time. See Houben, Roger 2010, p. 14.
39 See Bennett, Matthew: “Norman Naval Activity in the Mediterranean c. 1060-c. 1108”. In: Strickland, Matthew (ed.): Anglo-Norman Warfare. Studies in Late Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman Military Organization and Warfare. Boydell Press: Woodbridge 1992, pp. 41–58; France, John: “The Normans and Crusading”. In: Abels, Richard / Bachrach, Bernard S. (eds.): The Normans and their Adversaries at War. Essays in Memory of C. Warren Hollister. Boydell Press: Woodbridge 2001, pp. 87–101; Stanton, Charles D.: Norman Naval Operations in the Mediterranean. Boydell Press: Woodbridge 2011; Theotokis 2014.
40 Abulafia, David: “The Norman Kingdom of Africa and the Norman Expeditions to Majorca and the Muslim Mediterranean”. Anglo-Norman Studies. Proceedings of the Battle Conference 7, 1984/1985, pp. 26–49. See also DeNava, Ludovica (ed.): Alexandri Telesini Abbatis Ystoria Rogerii Regis Sicilie Calabrie atque Apulie. (Fonti per la storia d’Italia 112). Istituto Storico Italiano: Rome 1991, lib. I, c. 4, p. 8.
41 Mommsen, Wolfgang J.: Imperialismustheorien. Ein Überblick über die neueren Imperialismusinterpretationen. 3rd edition. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht: Göttingen 1987.
42 Braudel, Fernand: The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II, 2 vols. University of California Press: Los Angeles / London 1995; Purcell, Nicholas: “The Boundless Sea of Unlikeness? On Defining the Mediterranean”. Mediterranean Historical Review 18, 2003, pp. 9–29; Horden, Peregrine / Purcell, Nicholas: The Corrupting Sea. A Study of Mediterranean History. 9th edition. Blackwell: Oxford 2008; Abulafia, David: The Great Sea. A Human History of the Mediterranean. Oxford University Press: Oxford 2013, pp. XXIII–XXXI; Horden, Peregrine / Kinoshita, Sharon (eds.): A Companion to Mediterranean History. Wiley Blackwell: Chichester, West Sussex 2014; Ptak, Roderich: Die Maritime Seidenstraße. Küstenräume, Seefahrt und Handel in vorkolonialer Zeit. Beck: Munich 2007, pp. 9–13.
43 Abulafia David: “Thalassocracies”. In: Horden / Kinoshita 2014, pp. 139–153.
44 See for later times: Schein, Sylvia: Fideles Crucis. The Papacy, the West, and the Recovery of the Holy Land, 1274–1314. Clarendon: Oxford 1991; Setton, Kenneth M.: The Papacy and the Levant, vol. 1: The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries. (Memoirs of the American Philosophical Society 114). American Philosophical Society: Philadelphia 1976.
45 Flori, Jean: “Culture chevaleresque et Quatrième Croisade: quelques réflexions sur les motivations des croisés”. In: Ortalli, Gherardo / Ravegnani, Giorgio / Schreiner, Peter (eds.): Quarta Crociata. Venezia – Bisanzio – Impero Latino, vol 1. Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti: Venice 2006, pp. 371–387.
46 Houben, Roger, 2010, p. 19.
47 Houben Hubert: “Religious Toleration in the South Italian Peninsula during the Norman and Staufen Periods”. In: Loud, Graham A. / Metcalf, Alex (eds.): The Society of Norman Italy. (The Medieval Mediterranean 38). Brill: Leiden / Boston / Cologne 2002, pp. 319–339.
48 Foerster, Thomas: Conquest and Political Culture: The Hohenstaufen in Sicily and the Capetians in Normandy, c. 1185–1215, forthcoming; Cohn, Willy: Die Geschichte der sizilischen Flotte unter der Regierung Konrads IV. und Manfreds (1250–1266). (Abhandlungen zur Verkehrs- und Seegeschichte 9). Curtius: Berlin 1920; Cohn, Willy: Die Geschichte der sizilischen Flotte unter der Regierung Friedrichs II. (1197–1250). Priebatsch: Wroclaw 1926; Meier-Welcker, Hans: Das Militärwesen Kaiser Friedrichs II. Landesverteidigung, Heer und Flotte im sizilischen “Modellstaat”. Militärgeschichtliche Mitteilungen 17, 1975, pp. 9–48; Kamp, Norbert: “Vom Kämmerer zum Sekreten. Wirtschaftsreformen und Finanzverwaltung im staufischen Königreich Sizilien”. In: Fleckenstein, Josef (ed.): Probleme um Friedrich II. (Vorträge und Forschungen 16). Thorbecke: Sigmaringen 1974, pp. 43–92.
49 Neumann, Ronald: “Untersuchungen zu dem Heer Kaiser Friedrichs II. beim Kreuzzug von 1228/29”. Militärgeschichtliche Mitteilungen 54, 1995, pp. 1–30; Hiestand, Rudolf: “Friedrich II. und der Kreuzzug”. In: Esch, Arnold / Kamp, Norbert (eds.): Friedrich II. Tagung des Deutschen Historischen Instituts in Rom im Gedenkjahr 1994. (Bibliothek des Deutschen Historischen Instituts in Rom 85). Niemeyer: Tübingen 1996, pp. 128–149; Hechelhammer, Bodo: Kreuzzug und Herrschaft unter Friedrich II. Handlungsspielräume von Kreuzzugspolitik (1215–1230). (Mittelalter-Forschungen 13). Thorbecke: Ostfildern 2004.
50 See above, n. 29.
51 Dunbabin, Jean: Charles I of Anjou. Power, Kingship and State-making in thirteenth-century Europe. Longman: London 1998, pp. 1–54.
52 Herde, Peter: Karl I. von Anjou. (Urban-Taschenbücher 305). Kohlhammer: Stuttgart 1979, pp. 35–36.
53 Borghese, Gian Luca: Carlo I d’Angiò e il mediterraneo. Politica, diplomazia e commercio internazionale prima dei vespri. (Collection de l’École française de Rome 411). École française de Rome: Rome 2008, pp. 51–71.
54 See for the Papal-Angevin Alliance: Housley, Norman: The Italian Crusades. The Papal-Angevin Alliance and the Crusades against Christian Lay Powers, 1254–1343. Clarendon Press: Oxford 1982.
55 See Hendrickx, Benjamin: “Régestes des empereurs latins de Constantinople (1204–1261/1272)”. Byzantina 14, 1988, pp. 7–221, here: no. 254, p. 158 for Baldwin II being 1249 in Damiette.
56 Kiesewetter, Andreas: “Karl II. von Anjou, Neapel und Marseille”. In: Isabelle Bonnot (ed.): Marseille et ses rois de Naples. La diagonale angevine, 1265–1382. Edisud: Aix-en-Provence 1988, pp. 61–75.
57 See for the Mediterranean traditions of emperors and empires in general Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014.
58 Burkhardt, “Siciliy’s Imperial Heritage” 2013.
59 Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014, pp. 234–377.
60 Friedl, Christian: “Herrschaftskonzeption bei König Manfred. Staufisches Ideal und Scheitern der realpolitischen Ansätze”. In: Engels, David / Geis, Lioba / Kleu, Michael (eds.): Zwischen Ideal und Wirklichkeit. Herrschaft auf Sizilien von der Antike bis zum Spätmittelalter. Steiner: Stuttgart 2010, pp. 325–336; Brantl, Markus: “Kanzlei und Verwaltung unter König Manfred. Das Mandat. Mit einem Anhang ungedruckter Mandate”. Archiv für Diplomatik 41, 1995, pp. 339–363; Bergmann, Arnold: König Manfred von Sizilien. Seine Geschichte vom Tode Urbans IV. bis zur Schlacht bei Benevent 1264–1266. Heidelberg 1909.
61 Schadek, Hans: “Tunis oder Sizilien? Die Ziele der aragonischen Mittelmeerpolitik unter Peter III. von Aragon”. Spanische Forschungen 1. 28, 1975, pp. 335–349.
62 Berg, Beverly: “Manfred of Sicily and the Greek East”. Byzantina 14, 1988, pp. 263–289. See also in general Prinzing, Günter: “In Search of Diasporas in the Byzantine ‘Successor State’ of Epirus (c. 1210–1267)”. In: Christ, Georg et. al. (eds.): Union in Separation. Diasporic Groups and Identities in the Eastern Mediterranean (1100–1800). (Viella Historical Research 1). Viella: Rome 2015, pp. 123–136.
63 Nicol, Donald M.: The Last Centuries of Byzantium, 1261–1453. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 1972, pp. 23–42; Geanakoplos, Deno John: “Greco-Latin Relations on the Eve of the Byzantine Restoration: The Battle of Pelagonia-1259”, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 7, 1953, pp. 99–141, here: pp. 103–104.
64 Mihajlovski, Robert: “The Battle of Pelagonia, 1259. A New Look at the March Routes and Topography”. Byzantinoslavica 64, 2006, pp. 275–284; Wirth, Peter: “Von der Schlacht von Pelagonia bis zur Wiedereroberung Konstantinopels”. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 55, 1962, pp. 30–37; Longnon, Jean: “La bataille de Pélagonia en 1259”. Journal des Savants 3, 1955, pp. 136–138; Geanakoplos, “Greco-Latin Relations” 1953.
65 Geanakoplos, Deno John: “The Byzantine Recovery of Constantinople from the Latins in 1261. A Chrysobull of Michael VIII Palaeologus in Favor of Hagia Sophia”. In: Geanakoplos, Deno John (ed.): Constantinople and the West. Essays on the late Byzantine (Palaeologan) and Italian Renaissances and the Byzantine and Roman churches. University of Wisconsin Press: Madison (Wis.) 1989, pp. 173–188; Macrides, Ruth J.: “The new Constantine and the new Constantinople – 1261?”. Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 6, 1980, pp. 13–41.
66 Dunbabin, Jean: The French in the Kingdom of Sicily. 1266–1305. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge 2011, p. 23. See for Manfred’s attempts to come to terms with the papacy (via Baldwin II) Wolff, Robert Lee: “Mortgage and Redemption of an Emperor’s Son: Castile and the Latin Empire of Constantinople”. Speculum 29, 1, 1954, pp. 45–84, here pp. 65–67.
67 Whalen, Brett Edward: The Medieval Papacy. (European History in Perspective). Palgrave Macmillan: Basingstoke 2014.
68 Cf. Burkhardt, Stefan: “Petrus super aquas maris incessit. Das Papsttum in der mittelalterlichen mediterranen Welt”. In: Schneidmüller, Bernd et. al. (eds.): Die Päpste. Amt und Herrschaft in Antike, Mittelalter und Renaissance. (Die Päpste 1). Schnell & Steiner: Regensburg 2016, pp. 299–316 and Burkhardt, Stefan: “Between Empires. Southeastern Europe in the Middle Ages”. In: Jaritz, Gerhard / Szende, Katalin (eds.): Medieval East Central Europe in a Comparative Perspective. From Frontier Zones to Lands in Focus. Taylor & Francis Ltd: Abington / New York 2016, pp. 47–61.
69 See the contributions in Schimmelpfennig, Bernhard: Das Papsttum. Von der Antike bis zur Renaissance. Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft: Darmstadt 2009.
70 Berg, Beverly: “Manfred of Sicily and Urban IV: Negotiations of 1262”. Mediaeval Studies 55, 1993, pp. 111–136.
71 Dunbabin, Jean: “Creating an Image for a New Kingship: Charles I of Anjou, King of the Regno”. In: Bolton, Brenda M. / Meek, Christine E. (eds.): Aspects of Power and Authority in the Middle Ages. (International Medieval Research 14). Brepols: Turnhout 2007, pp. 23–31.
72 Burkhardt, Mediterranes Kaisertum 2014, pp. 122–123.
73 See for the financial and military potential of this community: Percy, William Armstrong: The Revenues of the Kingdom of Sicily under Charles I of Anjou, 1266–1285, and their Relationship to the Vespers. Diss. Princeton University 1964; Göbbels, Joachim: Das Militärwesen im Königreich Sizilien zur Zeit Karls I. von Anjou 1265–1285. (Monographien zur Geschichte des Mittelalters 29). Hiersemann: Stuttgart 1984; Pryor, John H.: “The Galleys of Charles I of Anjou, King of Sicily: ca. 1269–84”. Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History 24, 1993, pp. 33–103; Pryor, John H.: “Soldiers of Fortune in the Fleets of Charles I of Anjou, King of Sicily, ca. 1265–85”. In: France, John (ed.): Mercenaries and Paid Men. Proceedings of a Conference Held at the University of Wales, Swansea, 7th-9th July 2005. Brill: Leiden / Boston 2008, pp. 119–142; Dunbabin, Jean: “The Household and Entourage of Charles I of Anjou, King of the Regno, 1266–85”. Historical Research 77, 2004, pp. 313–336; Dourou-Eliopoulou, Maria: “Les ‘Etrangers latins’ en Romanie angevine sous Charles Ier (1266–85)”. Byzantinoslavica 59, 1998, pp. 65–70.
74 Boehm, Laetitia: “De Karlingis imperator Karolus, princeps totius Europae. Zur Orientpolitik Karls I. von Anjou”. Historisches Jahrbuch 88, 1968, pp. 1–35; Nicol, Donald MacGillivray: “The Relations of Charles of Anjou with Nikephoros of Epiros”. Byzantinische Forschungen 4, 1972, pp. 170–194; Dunbabin, Jean: “Charles I of Anjou and the Development of Medieval Political Ideas”. Nottingham Medieval Studies 45, 2001, pp. 110–126; for later times see: Housley, Norman J.: “Charles II of Naples and the Kingdom of Jerusalem”. Byzantion 54, 1984, pp. 527–535; Chrissis, Nikolas G.: Crusading in Frankish Greece. A Study of Byzantine-Western Relations and Attitudes, 1204–1282. (Medieval Church Studies 22). Brepols: Turnhout 2012, pp. 179–249.
75 See Wolff 1954.
76 Buchon, Jean Alexandre C.: Recherches et materiaux pour servir à une histoire de la domination Française aux 13e, 14e et 15e siècles dans les provinces demembrées de l’empire Grec à la suite de la 4e Croisade, vol. 1: Eclaircissements historiques, généalogiques et numismatiques sur la principauté française de Morée. Batignolles-Monceaux: Paris 1840, pp. 30–37.
77 Lock 1995, p. 67.
78 Wolff 1954, pp. 67–68; Lock 1995, p. 67.
79 Topping, “The Morea 1311–1364” 1975.
80 In the treaty of Viterbo Charles I said to Baldwin II: Ad hec, si forsan illi duo [Hugh and his son] cum quibus aliquas conventiones habetis super regno Thessalonicensi, in earumdem conventionum observatione defecerint, vultis et consentis quòd ipsum regnum Thessalonicense, omne dominium et quelibet jura quecumque in eodem regno Thessalonicensi habetis vel habere debetis, nos nostrique in predicto regno heredes, in casum predictum, plenissimè, si voluerimus, habeamus in predictâ nostrâ tertiâ computandâ (Buchon 1840, p. 34).
81 See Gill, Joseph: Byzantium and the Papacy 1198–1400. Rutgers University Press: New Brunswick (New Jersey) 1979, p. 177.
82 Chrissis 2012, pp. 179–249; Dunbabin, Charles I 1998, pp. 89–98.
83 Topping, “The Morea, 1311–1364” 1975; Id.: “The Morea, 1364–1460” 1975. See for the multiple intentions and problems under Charles II of Sicily: Kiesewetter, Andreas: Die Anfänge der Regierung König Karls II. von Anjou (1278–1295). Das Königreich Neapel, die Grafschaft Provence und der Mittelmeerraum zu Ausgang des 13. Jahrhunderts. (Historische Studien 451). Matthiesen Verlag: Husum 1999, pp. 338–370.