HOME | DD

Description
Good sweet gods, finding biographical information on this man is like pulling teeth. All history seems to care to remember about the Marquis of Montferrat is that he was the father of more famous noblemen like Conrad, future king of Jerusalem and one of the most famous victims of the historical Assassins. The medieval chroniclers Odo of Deuil and Otto Morena apparently describe his early career alongside King Louis VII in the Second Crusade, but I couldn't find English translations of either of their works that weren't locked behind a paywall. William of Tyre does count him among Louis's council in the Holy Land around this time, though, so I'm willing to accept the summaries I found of the previous two sources as accurate until proven otherwise. Gee willickers, it sure would be great if we lived in a world where information and education was free and accessible to all of us measly peasants, wouldn't it?

But okay, my personal misgivings about how capitalism is the death of mass education aside, let's go over a little bit of dynastic context first. William of Montferrat was the son of Rainier, the Marquis of Montferrat. Montferrat is a region of Piedmont (in what is today northern Italy), which had been made into a marquisate under the control of William's Frankish ancestor, Aleramo, in 961. William's father held the position until his death in 1135, at which point the title passed to William. Around this same time, William had married Judith of Babenburg, and the two would start pumping out all the children which would become William's greatest assets in the Holy Land. Of course, first our man's gotta actually get to the Holy Land, and thankfully for him, the aforementioned King Louis happened to come through Italy looking for men to take with him on Crusade in 1147. They arrived in 1148, and William was appointed to the king's council in Palmarea. He was therefore one of the men who came up with the brilliant and foolproof plan to lay siege to Muslim-controlled Damascus.

The Crusaders then proceeded to get absolutely spanked at Damascus, and Louis decided, on second thought, he didn't want to take Jerusalem. It is a silly place. William apparently was of the same mind, returning to Italy to consolidate power by helping Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa bully a series of annoyingly independent city-states, known the Lombard League, into submission. William wasn't done with politics in the Holy Land, though. In 1176, his son, confusingly also named William, was married to Sibylla, Queen of Jerusalem. He bore her a son, Baldwin V, but then proceeded to die of malaria the next year. That opened a whole can of dynastic worms, but oh well, William had other sons he could marry off. The Byzantine Emperor, Manuel I Komnenos, had some beef with Frederick Barbarossa at this point, but managed to persuade William to switch sides in 1179 with a fat sack of Roman gold and an offer of marriage between his daughter Maria and William's son Renier. This was an incredibly agreeable deal, as it potentially could've elevated Renier to the purple if he could just find a way to rid himself of the main contender for the throne: Maria's little brother Alexios. Their schemes were quickly found out, though, and Renier was killed in 1183.

That sucks, but oh well, William had other sons he could marry off. His grandson was now King of Jerusalem anyways. Leaving his eldest surviving sons, Conrad and Boniface, in charge of Montferrat, William set out for the Holy Land once again in 1183 to counsel the boy king. Baldwin didn't even make it to ten years old, however, dying of illness in 1186, and so now we have to open that can of dynastic worms I mentioned earlier. So okay, pretty much every Crusader worth their salt wanted to be the next King of Jerusalem, and to do that, they'd have to marry Sibylla and mysteriously disappear Baldwin. That latter checkmark obviously sorted itself out, but none of the nobles could decide who would marry the queen. Ultimately, to avoid killing one another and giving Saladin the opportunity to just casually slip in and sweep all this Crusader gunk off of his Holy City, the Crusaders agreed to a compromise: Sibylla would just go unmarried and be crowned Queen of Jerusalem herself. Everything was tied in a nice little bow, everyone was satisfied, and they all lived happily ever after.

Except no, I'm punking you obviously. Almost immediately, Sibylla turned right around and married contender Guy de Lusignan. Now hey, I'm all for self-determination in love and all that, but this particular instance had disastrous political consequences, because everyone was pissed right off. It was super annoying, but oh well, Saladin would capture both Guy and Jerusalem in 1187, and William had other sons he could marry off anyways. Enter Conrad, who had arrived in the Holy Land to secure the city of Tyre. Now, Conrad had already been married off to the sister of Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos, but well hmm ya see, that just wasn't good enough. See, Sibylla died in 1190, and since she was the one with the actual inheritance, that made Guy's flimsy claim to be King of Jerusalem null and void. The position was ripe for the picking, so all Conrad had to do was secure a marriage with Sibylla's sister Isabella to get the crown. Sure, Isabella was still married, but ah a little forced annulling would take care of that. Without any of that pesky "consent" getting in the way now, Isabella was wed to Conrad in November 1190. Seemingly satisfied that all his affairs were in order, William promptly died in Tyre sometime around May 1191, as that's also when Conrad began to officially style himself the Marquis of Montferrat. I'm sure nothing bad could possibly happen to this incredibly delicate house of cards from here on out.

Oh hey whaddya know, Conrad is next on my to-do list.

Design notes, it seems this is another case of not a single person putting this man's likeness to paper at any point between 1191 and 2007. Every historical image I came across was either mistaken for his son, William, or mistaking that son for the 10th century Norman leader William Longsword, which also happened to be the younger Montferrat William's nickname. I can't say I'm entirely surprised, since William V's only claim to fame is being distantly related to slightly more famous people, which makes him about as historically significant as I am. So, I just winged it, and I'm actually quite happy with how it came out. It's simple, but that was intentional. I kept his outfit sleek, and very loosely colored it based on the arms of Montferrat. Assassin's Creed makes him much younger and dark-haired, but pretty much every physical description I came across for William's sons paints them as tall, blonde, and handsome. In that vein, I decided to aim for a sort of silver fox vibe. I think he looks quite dashing for a historical footnote, if I do say so myself.

Description
Good sweet gods, finding biographical information on this man is like pulling teeth. All history seems to care to remember about the Marquis of Montferrat is that he was the father of more famous noblemen like Conrad, future king of Jerusalem and one of the most famous victims of the historical Assassins. The medieval chroniclers Odo of Deuil and Otto Morena apparently describe his early career alongside King Louis VII in the Second Crusade, but I couldn't find English translations of either of their works that weren't locked behind a paywall. William of Tyre does count him among Louis's council in the Holy Land around this time, though, so I'm willing to accept the summaries I found of the previous two sources as accurate until proven otherwise. Gee willickers, it sure would be great if we lived in a world where information and education was free and accessible to all of us measly peasants, wouldn't it?

But okay, my personal misgivings about how capitalism is the death of mass education aside, let's go over a little bit of dynastic context first. William of Montferrat was the son of Rainier, the Marquis of Montferrat. Montferrat is a region of Piedmont (in what is today northern Italy), which had been made into a marquisate under the control of William's Frankish ancestor, Aleramo, in 961. William's father held the position until his death in 1135, at which point the title passed to William. Around this same time, William had married Judith of Babenburg, and the two would start pumping out all the children which would become William's greatest assets in the Holy Land. Of course, first our man's gotta actually get to the Holy Land, and thankfully for him, the aforementioned King Louis happened to come through Italy looking for men to take with him on Crusade in 1147. They arrived in 1148, and William was appointed to the king's council in Palmarea. He was therefore one of the men who came up with the brilliant and foolproof plan to lay siege to Muslim-controlled Damascus.

The Crusaders then proceeded to get absolutely spanked at Damascus, and Louis decided, on second thought, he didn't want to take Jerusalem. It is a silly place. William apparently was of the same mind, returning to Italy to consolidate power by helping Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa bully a series of annoyingly independent city-states, known the Lombard League, into submission. William wasn't done with politics in the Holy Land, though. In 1176, his son, confusingly also named William, was married to Sibylla, Queen of Jerusalem. He bore her a son, Baldwin V, but then proceeded to die of malaria the next year. That opened a whole can of dynastic worms, but oh well, William had other sons he could marry off. The Byzantine Emperor, Manuel I Komnenos, had some beef with Frederick Barbarossa at this point, but managed to persuade William to switch sides in 1179 with a fat sack of Roman gold and an offer of marriage between his daughter Maria and William's son Renier. This was an incredibly agreeable deal, as it potentially could've elevated Renier to the purple if he could just find a way to rid himself of the main contender for the throne: Maria's little brother Alexios. Their schemes were quickly found out, though, and Renier was killed in 1183.

That sucks, but oh well, William had other sons he could marry off. His grandson was now King of Jerusalem anyways. Leaving his eldest surviving sons, Conrad and Boniface, in charge of Montferrat, William set out for the Holy Land once again in 1183 to counsel the boy king. Baldwin didn't even make it to ten years old, however, dying of illness in 1186, and so now we have to open that can of dynastic worms I mentioned earlier. So okay, pretty much every Crusader worth their salt wanted to be the next King of Jerusalem, and to do that, they'd have to marry Sibylla and mysteriously disappear Baldwin. That latter checkmark obviously sorted itself out, but none of the nobles could decide who would marry the queen. Ultimately, to avoid killing one another and giving Saladin the opportunity to just casually slip in and sweep all this Crusader gunk off of his Holy City, the Crusaders agreed to a compromise: Sibylla would just go unmarried and be crowned Queen of Jerusalem herself. Everything was tied in a nice little bow, everyone was satisfied, and they all lived happily ever after.

Except no, I'm punking you obviously. Almost immediately, Sibylla turned right around and married contender Guy de Lusignan. Now hey, I'm all for self-determination in love and all that, but this particular instance had disastrous political consequences, because everyone was pissed right off. It was super annoying, but oh well, Saladin would capture both Guy and Jerusalem in 1187, and William had other sons he could marry off anyways. Enter Conrad, who had arrived in the Holy Land to secure the city of Tyre. Now, Conrad had already been married off to the sister of Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos, but well hmm ya see, that just wasn't good enough. See, Sibylla died in 1190, and since she was the one with the actual inheritance, that made Guy's flimsy claim to be King of Jerusalem null and void. The position was ripe for the picking, so all Conrad had to do was secure a marriage with Sibylla's sister Isabella to get the crown. Sure, Isabella was still married, but ah a little forced annulling would take care of that. Without any of that pesky "consent" getting in the way now, Isabella was wed to Conrad in November 1190. Seemingly satisfied that all his affairs were in order, William promptly died in Tyre sometime around May 1191, as that's also when Conrad began to officially style himself the Marquis of Montferrat. I'm sure nothing bad could possibly happen to this incredibly delicate house of cards from here on out.

Oh hey whaddya know, Conrad is next on my to-do list.

Design notes, it seems this is another case of not a single person putting this man's likeness to paper at any point between 1191 and 2007. Every historical image I came across was either mistaken for his son, William, or mistaking that son for the 10th century Norman leader William Longsword, which also happened to be the younger Montferrat William's nickname. I can't say I'm entirely surprised, since William V's only claim to fame is being distantly related to slightly more famous people, which makes him about as historically significant as I am. So, I just winged it, and I'm actually quite happy with how it came out. It's simple, but that was intentional. I kept his outfit sleek, and very loosely colored it based on the arms of Montferrat. Assassin's Creed makes him much younger and dark-haired, but pretty much every physical description I came across for William's sons paints them as tall, blonde, and handsome. In that vein, I decided to aim for a sort of silver fox vibe. I think he looks quite dashing for a historical footnote, if I do say so myself.