Foot of Fines

Parchment from 1303 showing the three-part,
Final Concord. [source]

The word "fine" has many meanings, several of them deriving from the Latin finis, "end." With that in mind, one can easily guess that a "fine" in the sense of a payment necessary to end some disagreement is the "end product" of the process.

In fact, late 12th century England is where we find the legal practice of creating a "final concord" (shortened to "fine") entering the legal system. The final concord was an agreement between two parties that started as a way to resolve a dispute, but quickly evolved as a way to create any agreement. Fines were originally written up by the Exchequer (because they usually involved money), but by the end of the 14th century they were being handled by the Court of Common Pleas (partially because they became so popular that the Exchequer could not handle all the business).

The physical structure of the Fine can be seen in the illustration. The details were written out three times on a single parchment, twice alongside and once at the "foot" of the document. The parchment was then cut, separating the three pieces. Each party had one of the parts, and the "foot" was kept by the court. Note the wavy lines with characters written on them: proof that a party held the proper documentation was given by fitting the two (or three) irregularly-cut pieces back together!

Because of the security of having the "Foot of Fines" preserved in the records of the court, later disputes were prevented. This became a popular method for married women to make arrangements for the transfer of property, ensuring proper ownership of her own in the case of her husband's death.

The process was abolished by the Fines and Recoveries Act of 1833.

http://www.medievalgenealogy.org.uk/fines/index.shtml

Combat of the Thirty

The War of Breton Succession (see immediately previous entries) included an interesting military interlude.

A new book on the subject!

Jean de Beaumanoir, on behalf of Charles de Blois, issued a challenge to Robert (or Richard) Bemborough (or Pembroke, or Pennbrock, or Brembo, or Brandebourch, or something else) that they would meet in fair combat. But not single combat: thirty men from each side would meet on 26 March 1351 at Auray and "Heaven defend the right."

The knights and squires were armed with all manner of weaponry: daggers, swords, axes and spears. There is a tradition that some of Beaumanoir's men used horses at some point, but it is probably more likely that the combatants were all on foot.

The fighting continued until all of one side were dead or captured. The fight was exhausting; after several hours (with four French and two English dead), they agreed to pause to dress wounds and take food and drink. After the break, Bemborough was killed, whereupon the English pulled back into a small band for defense. The Anglo-Breton group was finally broken up and its members either killed or captured. Prisoners on both sides were released when ransom arrangements were made.

"There was no tactical or strategic goal behind the Combat..." we are told by Steven Muhlberger, whose book on the subject (see the link under the illustration) goes into far more detail. Much of the detail we get comes from a 14th century poem (translated and published in 1827, found here on a web page edited by the same Steven Muhlberger).

In fact, the entire affair was "illegal" because it was in defiance of the Truce of Calais. The truth is, tournaments and combat were a glorious part of the lives of some men, and "for honor" was a good enough reason to make a challenge and follow through on it, even if it meant potentially the deaths of your comrades.

The War of Breton Succession: Conclusion

[Click here for the start, here for part two.]

The Battle of Auray, from an edition of Froissart's Chronicles

Things were not looking good for the Montfort faction. Although John Montfort was released from prison on 1 September 1343 in exchange for a large sum of money, there was a condition that he stay in the east and not take part in the fighting conducted by the Montfortist faction on the Breton coast that saw him as the true Duke of Brittany.

The Montfortists were falling apart, however, and only maintaining their position with the help of the English forces whose help they had accepted. The other claimant to Brittany, Charles of Blois, did his best to assert himself, attacking Breton cities. English soldiers were held for ransom, but Breton citizens who had fought against him were executed for treason. With opposition to Charles looking less and less like a wise career move, the Montfortists began to fall apart, and John "broke parole" and fled to England in March 1345.

In 1345, however, Edward III of England decided to break the truce that he had promised to France during that early stage of the Hundred Years War. He sent troops to Brittany with John of Montfort as one of the leaders. At this point, the War of Breton Succession becomes subsidiary to the Hundred Years War, with the Kings of England and France lending support to the side in whom they had the most stake.

Without dragging out the story too long (except I must address the Combat of the Thirty soon): After a long series of attempts to satisfy everyone involved, on 29 September 1364 John of Montfort (son of the John of Montfort mentioned above) captured Auray, and then defended it when Charles of Blois showed up. In the Battle of Auray, Charles' forces were decisively defeated, and Charles himself fled. A year later, the King of France officially gave his support to John as Duke of Brittany.

The War of Breton Succession: Fiery Joanna

When John of Montfort was captured by France during the War of Breton Succession and imprisoned in the Louvre, his wife took up arms to defend his honor and their possessions.

Joanna in armor [source]

Joanna of Flanders was born before 1300 to Count Louis I of Nevers and Joan the Countess of Rethel. She was already in her 30s when she married John of Montfort, the rightful Duke of Brittany (thanks to the previous duke's wishes). Unfortunately for John, King Philip of France favored the Count of Blois (who happened to be Philip's nephew) as Duke of Brittany, due to his marriage to John of Montfort's cousin, Joan of Penthièvre (known as La Boiteuse or "The Lame").

One great objection to John was that he made alliances with King Edward III of England, who had just recently asserted his claim to parts of France in an event later called the Hundred Years War. King Philip saw an opportunity to arrest John and remove him from the playing field (literally from a playing field: John was arrested at a tournament after being promised safe conduct). He thought this would help settle the conflict between the two claimants.

Not so! Joanna sprang into action. She declared her son John the head of the Montfort faction—despite the fact that he was only a few years old. She herself directed the Montfort supporters and captured a town, Redon, and then retired to Hennebont on the coast to prepare for a siege. When Charles of Blois showed up to lay siege to Hennebont, Joanna dressed in armor and encouraged men and women to fight. In one engagement, she led 300 men to attack and burn Charles' tents and supplies. This earned her the title "Jeanne la Flamme" ["Fiery Joanna"].

When things looked bleak for Hennebont, and the bishop of Leon tried to convince Joanna to surrender, English forces arrived by sea to support her. Hennebont survived the siege. Joanna later went by ship to England to ask for more aid. Her ships survived an attack by the French, and she landed near Vannes, which she captured.

The English pretty much took over the managing of the War of Breton Succession at that point. Joanna, after her impressive feats, ended her life in England suffering from an unidentified mental illness. She did, however, live long enough to see the War of Breton Succession concluded in a way that she would consider satisfactory, and I will address that tomorrow.

The War of Breton Succession: The Start

Between 1341 and 1364, while the Hundred Years War was contesting the right of the English king to rule France (or, at least, parts of it), France was dealing with another struggle over Brittany. The Counts of Blois, a region south of Paris, claimed Brittany for their own, while the House of Montfort claimed it due to their link to the Dukes of Brittany.

When Duke John III "The Good" of Brittany (1286—1342) died, there were two rival claims. John was childless, and so the children of his siblings were next in line. John III had not liked the Montfort line which sprang from his father's second marriage, and favored his niece by his younger brother Guy. That nice, Joan of Penthièvre, had married Charles of Blois (a nephew of King Philip VI). But John repented shortly before his death, and made a will appointing John of Montfort his heir.

Most of the French nobility chose to accept the claim through Joan. John of Montfort moved quickly, however, making sure he possessed the chief cities of Nantes, Rennes, and Vannes, not to mention Limoges where the treasury of Brittany lay.

Although King Philip might have intended to stay apart from the conflict, he decided to side with Charles of Blois once he heard that Montfort had been in contact with England for support. A truce in the Hundred Years War meant that Edward could not take an active military role in supporting Montfort, but he might offer him financial and material aid.

A military intrusion into Brittany by French forces led to a siege at Nantes, and the capture of John of Montfort. His forces were not without a leader, however: his wife decided to take up arms, quite literally, the details of which I shall discuss tomorrow.

The Pirate Queen

Medieval wives were not always the stay-at-home type, and some of them acted in ways that were far from the mold of what we think of as a spouse.  Jeanne de Clisson was one such.

Born in 1300 as Jeanne de Belleville, Dame de Montaigou, she was married at 12 to the 19-year-old Geoffrey de Châteaubriant. Geoffrey died in 1326, and four years later Jeanne married her contemporary, Olivier III de Clisson of Brittany. The match seemed a good one, and while she was raising the five children she bore him, Olivier was off helping Charles de Blois fight against Edward III of England (this was during the Hundred Years war).

Because of a failure to hold a territory against the English, Olivier was accused of being an English sympathizer. Affronted, he turned an accusation to a certainty and began to support the English. In 1343, although there was no active military engagement going on, Olivier was arrested while at a tournament and taken to Paris, where he was tried and executed for treason.

Jeanne, outraged, sold off what remained to her of the Brittany estates and spent the money on three warships and a crew. She had them painted black, and took to the waters of the English Channel. She hunted down and destroyed ships of the French king, always leaving a few alive to spread the word that it was Jeanne de Clisson who was causing such trouble for the country that killed her husband and lover.

She may have helped provision Edward's forces leading up to the Battle of Crécy in 1346. She was  certainly no threat to English ships, and in 1356 she retired after 13 years of piracy to England, where she married Sir Walter Bentley. After his death, she retired to Hennebont on the coast of Brittany, where she died in 1359. Coincidentally, Hennebont was home to another Breton woman who bridged the gap from feminine decorum to military action.

But that's a story for another day.

Hiatus

Available 2015(?)

In honor of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), DailyMedieval is going on hiatus for the month of November so that I may concentrate on A Year in Oxford, the sequel to my Chaucer mystery novel A Death in Catte Street (currently available as an ebook—details to the right—on all online bookstores).

Although we have 300 references to Chaucer in official records, there is a gap from October 1360 until 1366 in which his activities are not recorded. We know that he is sent from the continent to England in October 1360 to deliver personal letters to the royal family; we have no record of him returning to the continent (where King Edward is signing the Treaty of Bretigny with France). A Death in Catte Street accounts for his actions during the two weeks between arriving in England and the return of the King.

A Year in Oxford sees him spending much of 1361 at Balliol, taking an "accelerated introduction" to the Trivium and Quadrivium. During this time, a series of fatal mishaps in the town seem unrelated, until he realizes that they follow a pattern that no one else has noticed.

A King in Hiding

Władysław III of Poland was born on 31 October 1424. He was named King of Poland when he was 10 years old and King of Hungary at the age of 16.

Very young kings are usually surrounded by advisors who often want to enjoy and consolidate their own power, rather than offer unselfish loyalty to king and country. Cardinal Olešnicki ran the country more than Władysław did, insulating the young king from reality and the ability to make sound judgments.

Therefore, when Władysław was 18 and had become King of Hungary after a two-year war (the widow of the previous king wanted to keep the throne for her infant son and not see it go to a Polish monarch), he decided to keep his army together and attempt a greater prize.

The Christian Władysław decided it would be a glorious undertaking to attack the pagan Turks in a crusade, breaking a ten-year truce with the powerful Ottoman Empire. Plans were made, and promises were gathered from Venice and papal forces for help. Unfortunately for Władysław, the mercenary Venetians also had an arrangement with the Turks, and used their fleet to ferry 60,000 Turks from Asia to where Władysław's army (of only 20,000) was camped. The end result was the Battle of Varna on 10 November 1444. The Polish army was defeated soundly and Władysław was beheaded.

...or was he?

Rumors that his head was taken to the Ottoman court are not substantiated. His own forces never found his body. A strange Portuguese legend accounts this. Supposedly, Władysław, ashamed of starting a disastrous war on false pretenses, snuck away from the losing battle and wandered as an ordinary pilgrim to the Holy Land, looking for forgiveness. He became a Knight of Saint Catherine of Mount Sinai. He later traveled to Madeira (an island west of Portugal) to live a quiet life, becoming known as Henry the German. Hearing the rumor that Władysław was alive and hiding in Madeira, a group of Polish monks traveled to investigate. They were satisfied that he was Władysław, but he would not be persuaded to return to Poland and ascend the throne.

Bruno the Saxon

Henry challenging the power of the church

Little is known of the figure called Bruno the Saxon, except that he was a monk attached to the household of Archbishop Werner of Magdeburg. Werner was an enemy of Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV, even joining a revolt against him. After Werner's death in 1078, Bruno joined the household of another Werner, this one the Bishop of Merseburg (because of which Bruno is sometimes called Bruno von Merseburg). Bruno's Historia de Bello Saxonico ["History of the Saxon Wars"] is dedicated to Werner of Merseburg.

The Historia recounts the struggles between the Saxons and Henry IV. Although Bruno is a Saxon, he seems to treat Henry more fairly than some other historians and figures of the time. Although he characterized the young Henry as arrogant and as someone who should have listened to his mother more, he also attributes problems with him to the evil influence of others, notably Adalbert, Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen. Adalbert was sub-regent under Henry's mother, Agnes. Bruno felt it was good that Henry came under the influence of Archbishop Anno of Cologne (after Anno staged the Coup of Kaiserswerth), but eventually Adalbert once again replaced Anno in henry's eyes as a chief influence.

This is not to say that Bruno was impartial: in the conflicts between Henry and the papacy (mainly, the Investiture Controversy), Bruno unsurprisingly takes the pope's side. When the excommunication was lifted by Pope Gregory VII, it was conditional upon Henry's good behavior: particularly, he had to forego wearing his regalia for a year to show humility, and avoid the company of the men who has counseled him to overreach himself. Unfortunately,

But when he began to exclude these men from his company, they started to make a great fuss, telling him that if he now drove away those by whose wisdom and courage he had up to now held his kingdom, the pope would be able neither to restore it to him nor to obtain another for him. These words and others like them led him to change his mind, and he wickedly returned through their evil counsel to his customary ways. He placed upon his head the diadem of gold and kept in his heart the anathema, stronger than iron. He mixed in communion with the excommunicate, and this wretched man was thrust out from communion with the saints. He now made it clear to all that what he said, that he preferred the kingdom of Heaven to earthly things, was untrue. Had he remained obedient for [even] a little while, he would have held his earthly kingdom in peace, and at some future time would have come into possession of the heavenly and eternal one. But now, for his disobedience, he would not have the one that he loved without great toil, and would never receive the other without a complete change in his way of life. [link]

Bruno seems to want to give Henry the benefit of the doubt and explain his failings as the evil influence of others.

Despite obvious biases, however, Bruno provides some valuable history by giving us a taste of life at the time and by including other sources in his Historia, such as letters from Saxon bishops and other original documents.

The Coup of Kaiserswerth

The ruins of Kaiserswerth in Dusseldorf

In 1062, Archbishop Anno II of Cologne and several princes decided that the 11-year-old Henry IV (the future King of the Germans and Holy Roman Emperor) needed to be liberated from the influence of his regent mother, Agnes of Poitou. He organized what is now called the Coup of Kaiserswerth.

It may have been a simple "power grab" by men who wanted to run the kingdom themselves, or by men who wanted to save the kingdom from Agnes (she had given away the duchies of Bavaria, Carinthia, and Swabia). It may also be that the conspirators felt the kingdom should not be ruled by a woman.

Bruno the Saxon, an 11th century monk who wrote the  Historia de Bello Saxonico ["History of the Saxon Wars"] claimed that Henry's behavior prompted the drastic action, because he was arrogant and would not listen to his mother. Archbishop Anno did the right thing by taking control of Henry.

For the Coup, Anno invited Agnes and Henry to stay at the palace of Kaiserswerth on the River Rhine in Dusseldorf. After dinner, the archbishop invited young Henry to see his fancy new boat. Once onboard, the boat cast off from shore. Exactly what Anno's plan was is not clear, but Henry feared for his life and jumped into the river (putting himself in far more danger than staying on the ship). One of the nobles present, Count Egbert, dove in and saved Henry. The ship was rowed to Cologne, where Henry was held until Agnes agreed to surrender the regalia.

Agnes went into a convent and Archbishop Anno became regent, ruling the country until March of 1065, when the 15-year-old Henry was crowned. This sounds like a happy ending for Henry IV, but his reign would be troubled by many issues and incidents, including the Investiture Controversy.

An Empress & Her Son

We have mentioned more than a few Holy Roman Emperors, but not any Holy Roman Empresses.

Carving of Agnes

Agnes of Poitou was born about 1025, the daughter of William V, Duke of Aquitaine, and Agnes of Burgundy. In November of 1043 she was married to Holy Roman Emperor Henry III (Henry was 26 and had been married before; his first wife, Gunhilda of Denmark, had died). The marriage between Henry and Agnes helped improve relations between the Holy Roman Empire and western Europe. They were crowned Emperor and Empress in 1046 by Pope Clement II.

Henry III died on 5 October 1056, when he was only 38 years old, after naming his son Henry as his heir (all his other children were daughters, except for Conrad who had died a year earlier). Henry IV was barely six years old, and his mother was named his regent, taking on the managing of the affairs of the Empire.

She may have been a good wife and mother, but she was not an admirable administrator. It would have been wise to maintain the kingdom for her son's eventual majority, but she let herself be persuaded to make changes like giving away valuable property—namely, all of Bavaria, Carinthia, and Swabia!

She did not approve of church reform, and got involved with papal politics. She supported Pope Stephen IX, who was forced to live outside Rome, over Pope Benedict X who actually held the papal seat.

In 1062, a group of aristocracy led by Archbishop Anno II of Cologne, decided (for whatever reason; guessing motive is difficult) that Henry needed to be removed from the influence of his mother. They staged what is called the Coup of Kaiserswerth. That's a story for tomorrow.

A Sultan's Observatory

The Ulugh Beg Observatory Museum, built in 1970

Ulugh Beg is the more familiar name of Mīrzā Muhammad Tāraghay bin Shāhrukh (22 March 1394 - 27 October 1449). "Ulugh Beg" is more of a nickname, meaning "Great Ruler."

He was a grandson of Tamerlane who became sultan in Samarkand while still a teenager. He decided to turn Samarkand into an intellectual center, building a university and inviting scholars to take up residence.

He also built the Ulugh Beg Observatory in 1420, where some of the finest Islamic astronomers worked and studied, but only those whom Ulugh personally approved. The picture here is a modern structure on the site of the original, which was destroyed by religious fanatics in 1449. An excavation uncovered its primary feature—a giant sextant:

The so-called "sextant" obviously would have extended well above the ground (as the drawing shows) and likely was closer to being a quadrant. As Krisciunas points out in his interesting discussion of the instrument, it "was by far the largest meridian instrument ever built." Fragments of the curved measuring track have survived with markings for around 20 degrees; this is about the highest point that observations likely would have been made. The "sextant" would have been used to measure the angle of elevation of major heavenly bodies, especially at the time of the winter and summer solstices. Light

from the given body, passing through a controlled opening, would have shone on the curved track, which is marked very precisely with degrees and minutes. "It could achieve a resolution of several seconds of arc--on the order of a six-hundredth of a degree, or the diameter of an American penny at a distance of more than half a kilometer" (Krisciunas). It is not clear whether more than the sun and moon could have been measured in this fashion, since planets, for example, would not have cast sufficient light. [link]

Building a giant permanent astronomical instrument was a unique idea at the time—remember that this was 200 years prior to the invention of a telescope. He created a catalog of over 1018 stars, discovering and correcting many inaccuracies in the star tables created by Ptolemy. Copies of these star charts are on display at the Ulugh Beg Observatory Museum; the originals are in the Bodleian Library in Oxford.

Wheel of Fortune

A 12th-century depiction of the Wheel of Fortune
from the "Garden of Delights" book by Herrad of Landsberg

The Wheel of Fortune is a familiar concept to many these days because of a popular game show, but the name and idea originated a lot earlier than the 20th century.

Human beings recognized long ago that luck was a dish served in one of two flavors, and that one never knew what flavor one was going to get. Life had its ups and downs, and this became represented as a circle of possibilities. This was similar to the wheel of the Zodiac, turning throughout the year and bringing with it changes in life. At some point, however, the Wheel of Fortune (in Latin, the Rota Fortunæ) began to be represented in a Ferris Wheel configuration, so that the "ups" and "downs" could be portrayed visually.

At the top of the wheel is a man at the peak of good fortune: he is portrayed as a king. The wheel turns constantly, however—Boethius points out in his Consolation of Philosophy that, should the wheel stop turning, then she is no longer Fortune: this changeability is fundamental to what she does. Therefore (in this clockwise-turning representation), on the right side you see the one who was formerly on top, sliding down; near the bottom, his crown has fallen off. All is not dire, however, for on the left you see that fortune is turning better for someone else, who is ascending and will some day be on top.

The concept existed before Boethius. An astrologer of the 2nd century BCE, Vettius Valens, refers to the Zodiac as the wheel of fortunes, and a Roman playwright of the same era, Pacuvius, puts Fortuna on a spherical rock that constantly rolls by chance. Chaucer also mentions Fortune's wheel when, in "The Monk's Tale," he recounts multiple stories of men whose fortunes went from good to bad.

Boethius

Boethius (left, with numbers from India)
debating Pythagoras (right, with an abacus)
while Arithmetic looks on

Boethius has been mentioned in passing before for his writing. An early philosopher whose works were very important to the Middle Ages, in life he was an important public servant from a noble family who rose very high before he fell.

Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius was born about 480 to a prominent family that had produced a couple emperors; his father became a Roman consul in 487 but died shortly thereafter, leaving Boethius to be adopted by the aristocrat and historian Symmachus. Symmachus and Boethius were fluent in Greek, which might have figured into their execution—but we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Boethius went to work for Theodoric the Great, and some of his actions on behalf of the King of the Ostrogoths have survived in the records.

• Procuring or producing a waterclock for Theodoric to give to Gundabad of the Burgundians.
• Finding a lyre player to perform for King Clovis.
• Investigating irregularities in Theodoric's paymaster.

In his famous work De consolatione philosophiæ ["The Consolation of Philosophy"], which he wrote in prison, he says that his greatest accomplishment was getting his sons, Boethius and Symmachus, appointed co-consuls in 522.

Boethius did so well in his career that he was made magister officiorum ["master of duties"], responsible for overseeing all government services. That's probably where the trouble started. Kings and emperors can be mistrustful of those around them with too much power—even if the emperor gave him the power in the first place. Boethius was put in charge of reconciling the differences that had grown up between the Western Roman and Eastern Byzantine Empires. His political powers and education and ability to speak Greek (rare in the West) made him ideally suited for this. He was accused (falsely) of treasonous dealings with the Eastern Emperor Justin I against Theodoric. For this he was exiled, then executed. His adoptive father Symmachus was later put to death on the charge of collusion with Boethius to overthrow Theodoric—a charge which seems unlikely.

He was executed in 525, but his writings survived. He wrote many books, including translations of Aristotle's works on logic; Boethius' translations were the only access to Aristotle's logic available to western Europe until the 12th century. He also produced De arithmetica on the four uses of arithmetic: arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy.*

The Consolation of Philosophy is believed to have been written while he was in exile. It covers many topics, one of which gave the modern era the title of one of its most popular game shows. But that's a story for tomorrow.

*These are the four parts of the quadrivium, taught in medieval universities; it is likely that the curriculum was arranged thus because of Boethius.

Crisis in Portugal

Ferdinand I, son of Pedro the Cruel

Inheritance is never more complicated than when a throne is involved. The stakes are too high for anyone to let slip by the chance that he can convince the world that he should rule the country involved. When Peter I of Castile (who ruled both Castile and Portugal) died in 1369, it seemed natural that his eldest surviving son, the 24-year-old Ferdinand I, would inherit the throne.

Except that Peter did not have the Castilian throne to pass along. His illegitimate half-brother, Henry of Trastámara, had taken it in 1369 after defeating Peter in the (First) Castilian Civil War. Wanting to oust Peter wasn't a big surprise to much of Europe, since at the time he was more commonly known as "Pedro the Cruel" because of a ruthless administrative style that did not sit well with the aristocracy. Henry had the support of the papacy as well as France and Aragon. France was happy to get involved on the side opposing Peter because of the larger global issues: France was still in the Hundred Years War with England, and England's John of Gaunt (son of King Edward III) was married to Peter's daughter Constance.

Ferdinand was now King of Portugal, but he wanted Castile as well.

Just because Henry sat the throne, however, did not mean his legitimacy was incontrovertible. (He had a son who was not yet a teenager.) Upon Peter's death, King Peter IV of Aragon and King Charles II ("the Bad") of Navarre put forth claims to Castile, as did Peter I's son-in-law, John of Gaunt. (John would have liked a kingdom of his own, since the assumption was that England would go to his older brother, Edward the Black Prince).

Military engagements followed. In order to avoid an unending conflict, all parties appealed to the pope. Pope Gregory IX got everyone to accept a treaty in 1371, agreeing that Peter's son Ferdinand would ascend the throne and would marry Leonora of Castile, Henry's daughter. This would link the thrones of Portugal and Castile by marriage, and everyone would be satisfied.

The next difficulty was created by Ferdinand himself. Although he accepted the treaty, he fell in love with someone else: Leonor Telles de Meneses, the wife of one of his courtiers! He managed to get her forcibly divorced from her husband so that Ferdinand could marry her.

With Henry's daughter spurned, he had no incentive to allow Ferdinand to become king in Henry's place. John of Gaunt plotted with Ferdinand to remove Henry from Castile, and brought an English army to help—to no avail, however, and a treaty in 1373 calmed everyone down again.

Henry died in 1379, and John of Gaunt once again made a claim for the throne. Ferdinand, however, made his own treaty without English help. If Ferdinand's daughter Beatrice were to marry Henry's son John, then the two kingdoms could be joined by marriage to everyone's satisfaction.

When Ferdinand died on 22 October 1383, he left no male heir. Beatrice's marriage to John would have taken care of Castile, but what of Portugal? The treaty was tossed away—popular sentiment was that Portugal would be annexed by Castile; Portugal needed its own king, not that of Castile!—and Ferdinand's illegitimate brother John claimed the throne, sparking a two-year period of war and political uncertainty with the French helping John of Castile and the English helping John of Portugal. When the dust settled, Portugal had gained control of many towns that were originally Castilian, and the two kingdoms were ruled separately.

In 1387, John I of Portugal married Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt. The alliance between Portugal and England was and remains very strong.