Part 25

What little could be done to ward off the impending danger Henry did without delay. He sent the only one of his sons on whom he could really depend, Geoffrey the chancellor, to secure the fortresses of Anjou; he himself went to do the like in Aquitaine,[1233] whence he returned to keep Christmas at Saumur. The feast must have been a dreary one, even if both Geoffrey and John were with him; yet, deserted as he was, he managed to collect, for the last time, some semblance of the old regal state.[1234] When the truce expired, however, he postponed his intended meeting with Philip, on the plea of illness, first to Candlemas-day, and then till after Easter. He hoped to make use of the delay for winning Richard back; but Richard turned a deaf ear to every message of conciliation.[1235] He had in fact joined Philip in an attack upon Henry’s territories as soon as the truce was expired; and the ever-discontented Bretons had been induced to lend their aid.[1236] After Easter Richard was at length brought to a meeting with his father, on the borders of Anjou and Maine; but nothing came of the interview.[1237] In vain did the Pope, fearing that these quarrels in Gaul would put a stop to the crusade, send two legates in succession to make peace. The first, Henry of Albano, who was sent early in 1188 to mediate between Henry and Louis, unintentionally became the indirect cause of a further addition to Henry’s troubles. Thinking it safer to postpone his mediation till the meeting of the two kings should take place, he in the meantime went to preach the crusade in Germany and there persuaded the Emperor himself to take the cross.[1238] By May 1189 Frederic was ready to start;[1239] but before doing so he took a stern and summary measure to secure the peace of the Empire during his absence. He ordered all those princes and nobles whose loyalty he suspected either to accompany him or to quit the country and take an oath not to set foot in it again till his return. Among those who thus incurred banishment was Henry the Lion. For the second time he and his wife sought shelter in England; not finding the king there, they crossed over to Normandy in search of him,[1240] but it does not appear that they ever reached him where he lay, sick and weary, at Le Mans.[1241] Meanwhile Henry of Albano, after anathematizing Richard for his disturbance of the peace, had withdrawn to Flanders and there died.[1242] His mission was taken up with a somewhat firmer hand by another legate, John of Anagni. Reaching Le Mans at Ascension-tide 1189,[1243] John at once excommunicated all troublers of the peace except the two kings themselves, who were made to promise that they would submit their quarrels to his arbitration and that of the archbishops of Reims, Bourges, Canterbury and Rouen, and were threatened with excommunication if they should fail to redeem their promise.[1244]

[1233] Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 436.

[1234] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 60, 61.

[1235] Gerv. Cant. as above, pp. 438, 439.

[1236] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 61.

[1237] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 13 (Angl. Christ. Soc., pp. 116, 117).

[1238] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 355, 356.

[1239] He took the cross at Mainz on March 27, 1188, and started on May 10, 1189. Ansbert (Dobrowsky), pp. 18, 21.

[1240] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 62.

[1241] The duchess died in that very summer, seven days after her father according to R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 65, or nine days before him according to the Chron. Stederburg (Leibnitz, _Scriptt. Rer. Brunswic._, vol. i. p. 861).

[1242] _Gesta Hen._ as above, pp. 51, 55, 56. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 355.

[1243] _Epp. Cant._ cccvii. (Stubbs), p. 290.

[1244] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 61.

On the basis of this agreement a conference was held on Trinity Sunday, June 4, at La Ferté-Bernard. There were present, besides the two kings, Richard, and the legate, the four archbishops who were to assist him as arbitrators, most of the Norman bishops, those of Angers and Le Mans, four English and several French prelates, and a crowd of French, English and Norman barons.[1245] Philip began by again demanding that Adela and Richard should be married at once; that Richard should have security given him for his succession to his father’s dominions; and that John should be made to take the cross and accompany his brother to Palestine.[1246] Richard repeated these demands for himself.[1247] Henry refused, and made a counter-proposition to Philip--the same which he was said to have made at Châteauroux two years ago, for Adela’s marriage with John; but this Philip rejected in his turn.[1248] The legate now interposed with a threat to Philip that unless he would come to terms, his domains should be laid under interdict; Philip defied the threat, and charged the legate with having been bribed by English gold.[1249] This explosion of course broke up the meeting.[1250] Henry went back to Le Mans, whence neither bishop nor archbishop, servant nor friend, could persuade him to move,[1251] although Philip and Richard with their united forces were overrunning Maine at their will. In five days the principal castles of its eastern portion were in their hands; one of the most important, Ballon, only fifteen miles from Le Mans, fell on June 9. There the conquerors paused for three days;[1252] and there, probably, they received the submission of the chief nobles of the western border--Geoffrey of Mayenne, Guy of Laval, Ralf of Fougères.[1253] But while the barons were false, the citizens were true. Le Mans still clung with unswerving loyalty to the count whom she looked upon as her own child; and Henry clung with equal attachment to the city which held his father’s grave and had held his own cradle.[1254] He had little else to cling to now. Where John was it is impossible to say; he was clearly not at Le Mans; and it is certain that, wherever he may have been, his proceedings were wholly unknown to Henry.[1255] Geoffrey the chancellor was still at his father’s side, and so were some half-dozen faithful barons, as well as Archbishop Bartholomew of Tours.[1256] Beyond these the king had nothing but a small force of mercenaries wherewith to defend either himself or Le Mans. The citizens were however willing to stand a siege for his sake, and he in return had promised never to desert them.[1257]

[1245] _Ib._ p. 66. The English bishops were Lincoln, Ely, Rochester and Chester.

[1246] _Ibid._ Rog. Howden as above, p. 362.

[1247] Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 447.

[1248] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 363.

[1249] _Ibid._ _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 66.

[1250] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 62, says there were _two_ meetings at La Ferté “after Easter.” There seems to be no other notice of the second; but Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. pp. 446, 447, has an account of a conference at Le Mans on June 9, which agrees almost to the letter with the report given in the _Gesta Hen._ and Rog. Howden of the proceedings at La Ferté on June 4. It seems most unlikely that either Philip or Richard would go to a conference at Le Mans itself; and June 9 is an impossible date, for by that time, as we shall see, the war was in full career, and Philip and Richard were actually besieging Ballon. Gervase has probably mistaken both place and date.

[1251] R. Diceto as above, p. 63.

[1252] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 67.

[1253] R. Diceto as above.

[1254] _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1255] Will. Newb., l. iii. c. 25 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 277), says, after the king’s retreat from Le Mans, “Tunc Johannes filius ejus minimus, quem tenerrime diligebat, recessit ab eo.” But it is almost impossible that all the contemporary historians should have failed to mention John’s presence with his father if he had really been there; and Henry’s horrified surprise at the final discovery of John’s treachery shews that there had been no open desertion such as William seems to imply.

[1256] Besides Bartholomew (whom most of the English writers of the time call William) there had been with him throughout the spring the archbishops of Canterbury and Rouen; Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 13 (Angl. Christ. Soc., pp. 115, 116). It is clear that Bartholomew stayed with him to the end, for he buried him. But we hear nothing more of either Baldwin of Canterbury or Walter of Rouen, except that Baldwin was at Rouen two or three days before Henry’s death; _Epp. Cant._ cccxi. (Stubbs), p. 296. See Bishop Stubbs’s preface to Rog. Howden, vol. ii. p. lxi, note 1. Of the laymen more later.

[1257] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 67.

On S. Barnabas’s day--Sunday, June 11--Philip and Richard appeared with their host before Le Mans. They made a feint of passing on in the direction of Tours; but next morning Philip suddenly drew up his forces under the walls and prepared for an assault. The defenders, conscious of the overwhelming odds against them, adopted the desperate remedy of setting fire to the suburbs. Unhappily, the wind carried the flames not into the enemy’s lines but into the city itself.[1258] The French saw their opportunity and rushed at the bridge; a gallant, though unsuccessful, attempt to break it down was made by some of Henry’s troops, headed by a Cenomannian knight, Geoffrey of Brulon, who thus honourably wiped out the memory of his rebellion of sixteen years before; after a desperate fight, Geoffrey was wounded and made prisoner with a number of his comrades, and the rest were driven back into the city, the French rushing in after them.[1259] Then at last Henry felt that he could not keep his promise to the citizens of Le Mans, and with some seven hundred knights he took to flight.[1260] The French hurried in pursuit, but they did not carry it far. It may be that Geoffrey of Brulon’s effort to break down the bridge saved the king although it could not save the city; for the French are said to have been checked in their pursuit by the impossibility of fording the river,[1261] and one can scarcely help conjecturing that the fugitives had crossed by the half-undermined bridge, and that it fell as soon as they had passed over it.[1262]

[1258] _Ibid._ R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 63. Gir. Cambr. as above, c. 24 (p. 137). Cf. Will. Newb., l. iii. c. 25 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 277).

[1259] _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1260] _Ibid._ Cf. Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 447; R. Diceto and Will. Newb. as above; Gir. Cambr. as above (p. 138); Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 28; and Will. Armor., _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 75.

[1261] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 68.

[1262] This is suggested by Bishop Stubbs’s remark about “the breaking down of the bridge.” _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxii.

Geoffrey however was not the only baron who after siding with Henry’s enemies in his prosperous days had learned to stand by him in his last hour of need. Besides his one faithful son, Geoffrey the chancellor, his old friend Earl William de Mandeville, and William Fitz-Ralf the seneschal of Normandy, Henry was accompanied in his flight by an English baron, William the Marshal. William’s father, John, who seems to have been marshal successively to Henry I. and to Stephen, had married a sister of Patrick of Salisbury and, like his brother-in-law, espoused the cause of the Empress in the civil war.[1263] William himself first appears in history at the age of about six years, in 1152, when he was placed as a hostage in the hands of Stephen. Twice his life was forfeited by his father’s defiance of the king, and twice it was saved by the unconscious fearlessness of the child, which so won Stephen’s heart that he ended by making himself the little fellow’s playmate instead of his slayer.[1264] John’s services to the Empress were rewarded on Henry’s accession by his reinstatement in the office of marshal; he afterwards became notorious through his quarrel with Thomas of Canterbury, which formed one of the pretexts for the archbishop’s condemnation at Northampton.[1265] After John’s death his title and office seem to have been shared by his two sons.[1266] The second, William, we find in 1173 among the partizans of the young king’s rebellion; ten years later he appears as the young king’s best-beloved knight, and as charged by him with the last office of friendship, the accomplishment in his stead of the crusading vow which he had not lived to fulfil.[1267] Six years afterwards, however, William was still in Europe, ready to stand to the last by another perishing king, and to take the post of honour as well as of danger among the little band of faithful servants who watched over the last days of Henry Fitz-Empress. It was William who brought up the rear of the little force which covered Henry’s retreat from Le Mans. Turning round as he heard the pursuers close behind him, he suddenly found himself face to face with Richard, and levelled his spear at him without hesitation. “God’s feet, marshal!” cried Richard with his wonted oath, “slay me not! I have no hauberk.” “Slay you! no; I leave that to the devil,” retorted William, plunging his spear into the horse’s body instead of the rider’s.[1268] Richard was of course compelled to abandon the chase, and at a distance of some two miles from Le Mans the king felt himself sufficiently out of danger to pause on the brow of a hill whence he could look back for the last time upon his native city. As he saw its blazing ruins words of madness burst from his lips: “O God, Thou hast shamefully taken from me this day the city which I loved most on earth, in which I was born and bred, where lies the body of my father and that of his patron saint--I will requite Thee as I can; I will withdraw from Thee that thing in me for which Thou carest the most.”[1269] Another eighteen miles’[1270] ride brought the fugitives at nightfall to La Frênaye,[1271] whose lord, the viscount of Beaumont, was a kinsman of Henry, and the father of Hermengard whose marriage with the king of Scots had been arranged three years ago by Henry’s influence. The king found shelter in the castle; his followers, already sadly diminished in number in consequence of the overpowering heat and fatigue of the day’s ride, quartered themselves in the little town as best they could; the chancellor would have remained with them to keep guard himself, but his father would not be parted from him, and made him come in to sup and spend the night. Geoffrey, whose baggage had been all left in Le Mans, was glad to exchange his travel-stained clothes for some which his father was able to lend him; Henry, with characteristic disregard of such details, persisted in lying down to rest just as he was, with his son’s cloak thrown over him for a coverlet.[1272]

[1263] See extracts from _Hist. de Guillaume le Maréchal_, vv. 23–398, in _Romania_, vol. xi. (1882), pp. 47–52.

[1264] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 399–654 (as above, pp. 52–55).

[1265] See above, pp. 32, 33.

[1266] They seem to have both officiated at the crowning of Richard. _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs, “Benedict of Peterborough,” vol. ii.), p. 81.

[1267] See above, pp. 139 and 228.

[1268] P. Meyer, in _Romania_, vol. xi. pp. 62, 63, from _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 8833–8836. This is clearly the incident recorded briefly and without a name by Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 140).

[1269] Gir. Cambr. as above, c. 24 (p. 138). He makes the distance two miles from Le Mans; in the _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 67, the pursuit is said to have extended to three miles.

[1270] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. iii. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 132, makes the day’s ride twenty miles altogether; but he carries it as far as Alençon. See, however, Bishop Stubbs’s pref. to Rog. Howden, vol. ii. pp. lxii, lxiii and notes.

[1271] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 140); _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 4 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 369). See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxiii, note 5.

[1272] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._ as above.

From La Frênaye another day’s ride would have brought the king to the Norman border. His first intention on leaving Le Mans had evidently been to fall back upon Normandy and there rally his forces--doubtless also to summon help from England--to renew the struggle with Philip; and this was the course to which his followers still urged him on the Tuesday morning. He, however, had changed his plans in the night. He seems to have made up his mind that his end was near; and in consequence, he had also made up his mind to go back to the Angevin lands. Since he had been compelled to leave his own birthplace in the enemy’s power, he would at any rate stand to the last by the old home of his father’s house, and die at his hereditary post as count of Anjou. He made William Fitz-Ralf and William de Mandeville swear that they would surrender the castles of Normandy to no one save John; he bade Geoffrey take the command of the troops, escort the barons with them as far as Alençon, and then come back to rejoin him in Anjou. Geoffrey, whose dominant feeling clearly was anxiety for his father’s personal safety, only stayed in Alençon long enough to secure the place and collect a fresh force of a hundred picked knights, and with these set off southward again to overtake his father. Henry meanwhile had started for Anjou almost alone. His son rejoined him at Savigny[1273]--whether it was the village of that name near Chinon, or one of several others further north, there is no means of deciding; but it is certain that by the end of the month Henry and his son were both safe at Chinon.[1274] Whether the king had made his way alone, or whether he had been at once the leader and the guide of the little Norman force, through the Angevin woodlands which as a hunter he had learned to know so well, and where he was now in danger of being hunted down in his turn--in either case this sick and weary man had achieved an adventure equal in skill and daring to those of Fulk Nerra’s most romantic days, or of his own youth. Once safe out of the enemy’s reach, he made no further movement until Philip, having possessed himself of the citadel of Le Mans[1275] and the remnant of the Cenomannian strongholds, and made his way southward by Chaumont and Amboise as far as Roche-Corbon,[1276] sent him a proposal for a meeting to be held at Azay on the last day of June.[1277] Henry apparently advanced from Chinon to Azay; but on that very day an attack of fever was added to the malady from which he was already suffering, and he was unable to attend the conference.[1278] It seems probable that he sent representatives to whom Philip and Richard made their propositions, and who may possibly have accepted them in his name.[1279] Certainly, however, no truce was made; for that same day Philip marched up to the southern bank of the Loire and drew up his host opposite the gates of Tours.[1280] Next day he forded the river--an easy exploit when it was half dried up by the summer’s heat[1281]--established his headquarters in the “borough of S. Martin” or Châteauneuf,[1282] and began to invest the city.[1283] Henry, it seems, had now gone to Saumur;[1284] there on the Sunday--July 2--he was visited, according to one account at his own request, by the archbishop of Reims, the count of Flanders and the duke of Burgundy, endeavouring to arrange terms of peace.[1285] The visit was a failure; it could not be otherwise, for the peacemakers were acting without Philip’s sanction, and in spite of a distinct warning from him that, whatever tidings they might bring back, he would assault Tours next morning.[1286] The morning came; the assault was made; the walls which had kept out Fulk Nerra and Geoffrey Martel could not avail to keep out Philip Augustus, enabled as he was by his possession of Châteauneuf and by the lack of water in the Loire to bring up his machines against their weakest side; and in a few hours he was master of Tours.[1287]

[1273] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 4 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 369). See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. pp. lxiv, lxv and notes.

[1274] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 68.

[1275] Some of Henry’s troops had thrown themselves into the citadel, and held out there for three days after his flight. _Gesta Hen._ as above. Another body of troops in a tower by the north gate (this must be the Conqueror’s Mont-Barbet--the “citadel” being the old palace or castle of the counts, near the cathedral) held out for a week longer still. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 63.

[1276] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 69.

[1277] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 140). R. Diceto, as above, p. 64, makes the day June 28; Bishop Stubbs (_Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxv) follows Gerald.

[1278] Gir. Cambr. as above.

[1279] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 365, 366, gives, with the date “circa festum apostolorum Petri et Pauli, ad colloquium inter Turonim et Azai,” a treaty identical with that which the _Gesta Hen._ as above, pp. 69, 70, give without any date at all, but after Philip’s capture of Tours, and which we know to have been finally made at Colombières on July 4 (see below, p. 265). R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 63, also gives the substance of the treaty, adding (p. 64): “Facta sunt autem hæc in vigiliâ Apostolorum Petri et Pauli, scilicet inter Turonim et Azai.” It seems possible that the terms were arranged at Azay between Philip and Henry’s representatives, subject to ratification by Henry himself. See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxv.

[1280] On the date see Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxvi and note.

[1281] This is the English account; _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 69, copied by Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 364. But the French writers turn it into something very like a miracle. See Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 28; Will. Armor., _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 75, and _Philipp._, l. iii. (_ibid._), p. 133.

[1282] _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1283] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, l. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 140) says the investment began on the morrow of the Azay conference.

[1284] _Gesta Hen._ as above. See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxvi and note.

[1285] _Gesta Hen._ as above. Gir. Cambr. as above (p. 141). For the duke of Burgundy Gerald substitutes the count of Blois. Bishop Stubbs (_Rog. Howden_, as above) adopts the former version.

[1286] _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1287] _Ibid._ Cf. Rigord and Will. Armor. as above, and _Philipp._ l. iii. (_ibid._), pp. 133, 134.

The tidings were carried at once to Henry, with a final summons to meet the conqueror at Colombières, half-way between Tours and Azay.[1288] Henry, at his wits’ end, consulted William the Marshal as to whether or not he should respond to the summons; William recommended him to follow the counsel of his barons; they advised that he should go, and he went. Most of his followers went with him; Geoffrey, however, feeling that he could not endure to see his father’s humiliation, besought and obtained permission to remain where he was.[1289] Henry found a lodging in a small commandery of Knights Templars at Ballan,[1290] close to Colombières; but he had no sooner reached it than he was seized with racking pains in every limb and every nerve. He again called for William the Marshal, who did his best to soothe him, and persuaded him to go to bed. Philip and Richard had always refused to believe that his sickness was anything but a feint, and despite the pleadings of his friends they still insisted that the conference should take place[1291] on the following day.[1292] When they saw him, however, they were compelled to admit the truth of his excuse; his sternly-set and colourless face shewed but too plainly how acutely he was suffering. So evident was his weakness that they offered him a seat--on a cloak spread upon the ground--but he refused it; he had not come there, he said, to sit down with them; he had come simply to hear and see what the French king demanded of him, and why he had taken away his lands.[1293] Philip formulated his demands with brutal bluntness; he required that Henry should put himself, as a conquered enemy, entirely at his mercy before he would discuss any terms at all.[1294] Henry could not at once bring himself to submit. Suddenly, amid the breathless stillness of the sultry July morning, a clap of thunder was heard, and the excited bystanders thought they actually saw a stroke of lightning fall out of the cloudless blue sky, directly between the two kings. Both started back in terror; after a while they rode forward again, and immediately there was a second peal of thunder. Henry’s shattered nerves gave way completely; he nearly fell from his horse, and at once placed himself wholly at Philip’s mercy.[1295] Then the terms were dictated to him. He was made to do homage to Philip, and to promise that Adela should be placed under guardians chosen by Richard, who was to marry her on his return from Palestine;--that Richard should receive the fealty of all the barons of the Angevin dominions, on both sides of the sea, and that all who had attached themselves to Richard’s party in the late war should be suffered to remain in his service and released from their obligations to his father, at any rate until the latter should be ready to set forth on the crusade;--that he would be thus ready, and would meet Philip and Richard at Vézelay, thence to start with them at Mid-Lent;[1296]--that he would renounce all claims upon Auvergne,[1297] and pay Philip an indemnity of twenty thousand marks.[1298] As security for the fulfilment of the treaty, Philip and Richard were to hold in pledge either three castles on the Norman border or two in Anjou, with the cities of Tours and Le Mans; and all Henry’s barons were to swear that they would hold their allegiance to him contingent only upon his fulfilment of these conditions.[1299] Finally, he was compelled to acknowledge himself reconciled with Richard, and to give him the kiss of peace. The kiss was indeed given; but it was accompanied by a whisper which Richard did not scruple to repeat for the amusement of the French court when the conference was over--“May I only be suffered to live long enough to take vengeance upon thee as thou deservest!”[1300]

[1288] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 8935–8944 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 64). The name of Colombières is given only by Will. Armor., _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 75, and _Philipp._, l. iii. (_ibid._), p. 134.

[1289] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 370).

[1290] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 8947–8958 (as above). M. Meyer (_ib._ p. 69) supplies the name of the commandery.

[1291] _Ib._ vv. 8960–8997 (as above, p. 64).

[1292] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. iii. (as above), gives the date by saying Henry died “post triduum.”

[1293] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9013–9028 (as above, p. 65).

[1294] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 141).

[1295] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 366.

[1296] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 70.

[1297] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 64.

[1298] _Ib._ p. 63. _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1299] _Gesta Hen._ as above, pp. 70, 71.

[1300] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 26 (Angl. Christ. Soc., pp. 149, 150).

One thing alone Henry asked and obtained in return for all this humiliation; a written list of those among his subjects whose services were transferred to Richard.[1301] The list was promised,[1302] and Henry was carried back, worn out with fatigue, suffering and shame, to the favourite home of his brighter days at Chinon.[1303] By the time he reached it he was too ill to do anything but lie down never to rise again. He sent back his vice-chancellor, Roger Malchat,[1304] to fetch the promised list of traitors; and on Roger’s return he bade him sit down beside his bed and read him out the names. With a sigh Roger answered: “Our Lord Jesus Christ help me, sire! the first written down here is Count John, your son.”[1305] The words gave Henry his death-blow. “Say no more,”[1306] he faltered, turning away his face.[1307] Yet the tale seemed too horrible to be true, and he started up again: “Can it be? John, my darling child, my very heart, for love of whom I have incurred all this misery--has he indeed forsaken me?” It could not be denied; he sank back again and turned his face to the wall, moaning: “Let things go now as they will; I care no more for myself or for the world.”[1308]

[1301] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 366. _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, v. 9035 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 65).

[1302] Rog. Howden says that it was given, and implies that it was read, then and there, but we shall see that he is wrong.

[1303] Rog. Howden as above. _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, v. 3639 (as above). Bishop Stubbs (_Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxviii) says “he returned to Azai,” and makes the reading of the fatal list take place there, before Henry went on to Chinon (_ib._ p. lxx). This seems to be the meaning of Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 25 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 148). But Gerald evidently thought Henry had been at Azay ever since the Friday, just as William of Armorica (_Philipp._, l. iii., Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v. p. 134) thought he had been all the while at Chinon; whereas the _Gesta_ and Roger shew that both are wrong in this. On the other hand, the _Life of William the Marshal_ seems distinctly to shew that the place where Henry went to lodge before the meeting at Colombières was not Azay, but Ballan; and it also tells us that he went straight back from Colombières to Chinon, and _there_ read the list. In the absence of further elucidations, I venture to follow this version.

[1304] “... Mestre Roger Malchael, Qui lores portout son seel.”

_Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9051–9052 (as above, p. 65). See M. Meyer’s note, _ib._ p. 69.

[1305] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9040–9076 (as above, p. 65).

[1306] “Asez en avez dit.” _Ib._ v. 9083 (as above).

[1307] _Ib._ v. 9084 (p. 66).

[1308] Gir. Cambr. as above.

All through that day and the next he lay there, trembling from head to foot, sometimes appearing to see and hear nothing, and to be conscious of nothing but pain, murmuring broken words which no one could understand.[1309] At other times his delirium shewed itself in frenzied curses upon himself and his sons, which the attendant bishops vainly besought him to revoke.[1310] It was Geoffrey who at length managed to bring him to a somewhat calmer frame both of body and of mind. With his head on his son’s shoulder and his feet on the knees of a faithful knight, Henry at last seemed to have fallen asleep. When he opened his eyes again and saw Geoffrey patiently watching over him and fanning away the flies which buzzed around his head, he spoke in accents very different from any that he had used for some days past. “My dearest son! thou, indeed, hast always been a true son to me. So help me God, if I recover of this sickness, I will be to thee the best of fathers, and will set thee among the chiefest men of my realm. But if I may not live to reward thee, may God give thee thy reward for thy unchanging dutifulness to me!” “O father, I desire no reward but thy restoration to health and prosperity” was all that Geoffrey could utter, as the violence of his emotion so overcame his self-control that he was obliged to rush out of the room.[1311] The interval of calmness passed away, and the ravings of delirium were heard again; “Shame, shame upon a conquered king!” Henry kept muttering over and over again, till the third morning broke--the seventh day of the fever[1312]--and brought with it the lightning before death. Once more Geoffrey, stifling his own distress, came to his father’s side; once more he was rewarded by seeing Henry’s eyes open and gaze at him with evident recognition; once more the dying king recurred wistfully to his plans, not this time of vengeance upon his rebellious sons, but of advancement for the loyal one, faintly murmuring in Geoffrey’s ear how he had hoped to see him bishop of Winchester, or better still, archbishop of York;[1313] but he knew that for himself all was over. He took off a gold finger-ring, engraved with a leopard[1314]--the armorial device of the Angevin house--and handed it to Geoffrey, bidding him send it to the king of Castille, the husband of his daughter Eleanor; he also gave directions that another precious ring which lay among his treasures should be delivered to Geoffrey himself, and gave him his blessing.[1315] After this he was, by his own desire, carried into the chapel of the castle and laid before the altar; here he confessed his sins to the attendant bishops and priests, was absolved, and devoutly made his last Communion. Immediately afterwards he passed away.[1316]

[1309] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9085–9094 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 66).

[1310] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 366.

[1311] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. pp. 370, 371).

[1312] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, l. iii. c. 26 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 150).

[1313] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._ as above (p. 371).

[1314] “Pantera.” “The word is doubtful,” notes Mr. Brewer (_Gir. Cambr._, vol. iv. p. 371); Bishop Stubbs (_Rog. Howden_, vol. ii. pref. p. lxxi) renders it “panther.”

[1315] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 371).

[1316] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 367. Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 28 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 156), says there were no bishops with him at his death; any way, there were two at his burial. The date of death--July 6--is given by many authorities: _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 71; Rog. Howden as above; R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 64; Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 450, etc.

Then followed one of those strange scenes which so often occurred after the death of a medieval king. The servants who should have laid out the body for burial stripped it and left it naked on the ground; and as during the three days that he lay dying they had plundered him of everything on which they could lay their hands, the few friends who were shocked at the sight could not find a rag wherewith to cover the dead king, till one of his knights, William de Trihan, took off his own cloak for the purpose.[1317] All this, however, was speedily set right by William the Marshal. He at once took the command of the little party--a duty for which Geoffrey was evidently unfitted by the violence of his grief--sent to call as many barons as were within reach to attend the funeral, and gave directions for the proper robing of the corpse.[1318] It was no easy matter to arrange within four-and-twenty hours, and utterly without resources, anything like a regal burial for this fallen king.[1319] William, however, managed to do it; and next day Henry Fitz-Empress, robed as if for his coronation, with a crown of gold upon his head, a gold ring on his finger, sandals on his feet, and a sceptre in his gloved right hand,[1320] was borne upon the shoulders of his barons down from his castle on the rock of Chinon, across the viaduct which he himself had built over the swampy meadows beneath, and thence northward along the left bank of the silvery, winding Vienne to his burial-place at Fontevraud.[1321] He had wished to be buried at Grandmont;[1322] but this of course was impossible now. “He shall be shrouded among the shrouded women”--so ran the closing words of a prophecy which during the last few months had been whispered throughout Henry’s dominions as a token of his approaching end. It was fulfilled now to the letter, as he lay in state in the abbey-church of Fontevraud, while the veiled sisters knelt by night and day murmuring their prayers and psalms around the bier.[1323]

[1317] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9027–9161 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 66). Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, as above (pp. 156, 157), tells the same story, more highly coloured, but with less verisimilitude, as he has lost the name of William de Trihan and turned him into “puer quidam.”

[1318] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9165–9172, 9215–9220 (as above, pp. 66, 67).

[1319] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 28 (Angl. Christ. Soc., pp. 157, 158).

[1320] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 71. How hard it was to manage all this we learn from Gerald: “Vix annulus digito, vix sceptrum manu, vix capiti corona sicut decuit, quia de aurifrigio quodam veteri inventa fuit, vix ulla prorsus insignia regalia nisi per emendicata demum suffragia, eaque minus congruentia suppetiere.” _De Instr. Princ._ as above (p. 158). The chronicle of Laon, a. 1187, quoted in note (_ibid._), adds that the gold fringe of which the crown was made came off a lady’s dress.

[1321] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9071–9223 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 67). See a curious incident at the setting out of the funeral train, in vv. 9173–9214.

[1322] He had given solemn directions to that effect, when he thought himself dying at La Motte-de-Ger, in 1170. _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 7.

[1323] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9229–9244 (as above). For the prophecy and its application see _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 55, and Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 356, 367.

None of the dead king’s friends had thought it necessary to wait for any instructions from his heir. The marshal, however, had sent to apprise Richard of his father’s death, and delayed the burial long enough to give him an opportunity of attending it if he chose to do so. The other barons were in great dread of meeting the future king against whom they had been in arms; and several of them were even more anxious for the marshal than for themselves, for they could not but imagine that Richard’s heaviest vengeance would fall upon the man who had unhorsed and all but killed him at Le Mans. More than one of them offered to place himself and all his possessions at the service of the comrade whom they all held in such reverence, if thereby anything could be done to save him from Richard’s wrath. But he only answered quietly: “Sirs, I do not repent me of what I did. I thank you for your proffers; but, so help me God, I will not accept what I cannot return. Thanks be to Him, He has helped me ever since I was made a knight; I doubt not He will help me to the end.”[1324] Before nightfall Richard overtook them.[1325] He came, it seems, alone. Vainly did the bystanders seek to read his feelings in his demeanour; he shewed no sign of either grief or joy, penitence or wrath; he “spoke not a word, good or bad,”[1326] but went straight to the church and into the choir, where the body lay.[1327] For awhile he stood motionless before the bier;[1328] then he stepped to the head, and looked down at the uncovered face.[1329] It seemed to meet his gaze with all its wonted sternness; but there were some who thought they saw a yet more fearful sight--a stream of blood which flowed from the nostrils, and ceased only on the departure of the son who was thus proclaimed as his father’s murderer.[1330] Richard sank upon his knees; thus he remained “about as long as one would take to say the Lord’s Prayer;”[1331] then he rose and, speaking for the first time, called for William the Marshal. William came, accompanied by a loyal Angevin baron, Maurice of Craon. Richard bade them follow him out of the church; outside, he turned at once to the marshal: “Fair Sir Marshal, you had like to have slain me; had I received your spear-thrust, it would have been a bad day for both of us!” “My lord,” answered William, “I had it in my power to slay you; I only slew your horse. And of that I do not repent me yet.” With kingly dignity Richard granted him his kingly pardon at once;[1332] and on the morrow they stood side by side while Henry Fitz-Empress was laid in his grave before the high altar by Archbishop Bartholomew of Tours.[1333]

[1324] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9245–9290 (_Romania_, vol. xi. pp. 67, 68).

[1325] The _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 71, make Richard meet the corpse on its way; and Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 367, follows the _Gesta_. But the _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._ and Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 28 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 157) both distinctly say that he met it at Fontevraud. The other version is intrinsically most improbable, for Richard can hardly have been coming from anywhere else than Tours, and in that case he could not possibly meet the funeral train on its way from Chinon to Fontevraud. That he should reach Fontevraud some hours after it, on the other hand, is perfectly natural; and this is just what Gerald and the French _Life_ imply; for they both tell us that the funeral started from Chinon on the day after the death--_i.e._ Friday, July 7--and Gerald (as above, p. 158) implies that the actual burial took place the day after Richard’s arrival, while in the _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 372), he seems to place it on the Saturday, July 8. See Bishop Stubbs’s preface to Rog. Howden, vol. ii. p. lxix, note 1. One of the MSS. of Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._ (Luard, vol. ii. p. 344, note 8) has a curiously different version of Richard’s behaviour on the occasion.

[1326] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9294–9298, 9300 (p. 68).

[1327] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._ as above.

[1328] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9299, 9300 (as above).

[1329] _Ib._ v. 9301. Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._ and _Vita Galfr._ as above.

[1330] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 28 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 157); _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 372). _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 71.

[1331] Gir. Cambr. as above.

[1332] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9304–9344 (_Romania_, vol. xi. pp. 68, 69).

[1333] The day is given by Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._ as above (p. 158), and _Vita Galfr._ as above; the name of the officiating prelate by R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 65. Bartholomew was assisted by Archbishop Fulmar of Trier (_ibid._)

CHAPTER VII.

RICHARD AND ENGLAND.

1189–1194.

All doubts as to the destination of Henry’s realms after his death were settled at once by the discovery of John’s treason. Throughout the Angevin dominions not a voice was raised to challenge the succession of Richard. The English marshal and the Angevin barons gathered at Fontevraud received him unquestioningly as their lord, and were at once accepted as loyal subjects. One of them indeed, the seneschal of Anjou, Stephen of Turnham or of Marçay, was flung into prison for failing to surrender the royal treasure;[1334] but the reason of his failure seems to have been simply that the treasury was empty.[1335] According to one contemporary historian, Richard sealed his forgiveness of William the Marshal by at once despatching him to England with a commission to hold the country for him--in effect, to act as justiciar--till he could proceed thither himself.[1336] In all probability, however, William was authorized to do nothing more than set Eleanor at liberty; it was she who, by her son’s desire, undertook the office of regent in England,[1337] which she fulfilled without difficulty for the next six weeks. Geoffrey the chancellor resigned his seal into his half-brother’s hands as soon as the funeral was over.[1338] The promise of the Norman castellans to Henry that they would surrender to no one but John was of course annulled by later events. John himself hastened to join his brother; Richard gave him a gracious welcome, and they returned to Normandy together.[1339] At Séez the archbishops of Canterbury and Rouen came to meet them, and absolved Richard from the excommunication[1340] laid on him by the legate John of Anagni. Thence they all proceeded to Rouen. On July 20 Richard went in state to the metropolitan church, where Archbishop Walter girded him with the ducal sword and invested him with the standard of the duchy.[1341] On the same day he received the fealty of the Norman barons,[1342] and held his first court as duke of Normandy, and also, it seems, as king-elect of England, although there had been no formal election. He at once made it clear that the abettors of his revolt had nothing to hope from him--three of the most conspicuous had been deprived of their lands already[1343]--and that his father’s loyal servants had nothing to fear, if they would transfer their loyalty to him. He shewed indeed every disposition to carry out his father’s last wishes; he at once nominated Geoffrey for the see of York, and confirmed Henry’s last grant to John, consisting of the Norman county of Mortain and four thousand pounds’ worth of land in England;[1344] at the same time he bestowed upon William the Marshal the hand of Isabel de Clare, daughter and heiress of Earl Richard of Striguil, and upon the son of the count of Perche a bride who had already been sought by two kings--his niece, Matilda of Saxony.[1345]

[1334] _Gesta Ric._ (“Benedict of Peterborough,” Stubbs, vol. ii.), p. 71. Cf. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 6.

[1335] See _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9198, 9199 (_Romania_, vol. xi. p. 67).

[1336] _Ib._ vv. 9347–9354 (p. 69).

[1337] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 67.

[1338] Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 5 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 372).

[1339] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 72.

[1340] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 67. How had the archbishops power to cancel a legatine sentence?

[1341] _Ibid._ _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 73. (The date is from this last).

[1342] _Gesta Ric._ as above.

[1343] _Ib._ p. 72.

[1344] _Ib._ p. 73. Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 3 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 301). On John and Mortain see Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 6 and note 2, and preface to vol. iii. p. xxiv, note 1.

[1345] _Gesta Ric._ as above.

This last match was evidently intended to secure the attachment of the important little border-county of Perche in case of a rupture with France, which seemed by no means unlikely. The alliance of Philip and Richard had expired with King Henry; now that Richard stood in his father’s place, Philip saw in him nothing but his father’s successor--the head of the Angevin house, whose policy was to be thwarted and his power undermined on every possible occasion and by every possible means. This was made evident at a colloquy held on S. Mary Magdalene’s day to settle the new relations between the two princes; Philip greeted his former ally with a peremptory demand for the restitution of the Vexin.[1346] Richard put him off with a bribe of four thousand marks, over and above the twenty thousand promised by Henry at Colombières; and on this condition, accompanied, it seems, by a vague understanding that Richard and Adela were to marry after all,[1347] Philip agreed to leave Richard in undisturbed possession of all his father’s dominions, including the castles and towns which had been taken from Henry in the last war,[1348] except those of Berry and Auvergne.[1349] Thus secured, for the moment at least, in Normandy, Richard prepared to take possession of his island realm. He had paved the way for his coming there by empowering Eleanor to make a progress throughout England, taking from all the freemen of the land oaths of fealty in his name, releasing captives, pardoning criminals, mitigating, so far as was possible without upsetting the ordinary course of justice, the severe administration of the late king. Richard himself now restored the earl of Leicester and the other barons whom Henry had disseized six years before.[1350] The next step was to send home the archbishop of Canterbury and three other English prelates who were with him in Normandy.[1351] On August 12 they were followed by Richard himself.[1352]

[1346] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 73, 74. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 3, 4.

[1347] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 74.

[1348] Rog. Howden as above, p. 4.

[1349] Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 29. Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ib._), p. 75. Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 450.

[1350] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 74, 75.

[1351] _Ib._ p. 75.

[1352] Gerv. Cant. as above, p. 457. The _Gesta Ric._, as above, give a confused date--“Idus Augusti, die dominicâ post Assumptionem B. Mariæ.”

His politic measures of conciliation, executed by his mother with characteristic intelligence and tact, had secured him a ready welcome. It was only by slow degrees, and with the growing experience of years, that the English people learned how much they owed to the stern old king who was gone. At the moment they thought of him chiefly as the author of grievances which his son seemed bent upon removing.[1353] Richard’s mother, with a great train of bishops and barons, was waiting to receive him at Winchester;[1354] there, on the vigil of the Assumption, he was welcomed in solemn procession;[1355] and there, too, he came into possession of the royal treasury, whose contents might make up for the deficiencies in that of Anjou.[1356] So complete was his security that instead of hastening, as his predecessors had done, to be crowned as soon as possible, he left Eleanor nearly three weeks in which to make the arrangements for that ceremony,[1357] while he went on a progress throughout southern England,[1358] coming back at last to be crowned by Archbishop Baldwin at Westminster on September 3.[1359] No charter was issued on the occasion. The circumstances of the new king’s accession were not such as to make any special call for one; they were sufficiently met by a threefold oath embodied in the coronation-service, pledging the sovereign to maintain the peace of the Church, to put down all injustice, and to enforce the observance of righteousness and mercy.[1360] In the formal election by clergy and people which preceded the religious rite,[1361] and in the essentials of the rite itself, ancient prescription was strictly followed. The order of the procession and the details of the ceremonial were, however, arranged with unusual care and minuteness; it was the most splendid and elaborate coronation-ceremony that had ever been seen in England, and it served as a precedent for all after-time.[1362] Richard had none of his father’s shrinking from the pageantries and pomps of kingship; he delighted in its outward splendours almost as much as in its substantial powers.[1363] He himself, with his tall figure, massive yet finely-chiselled features, and soldierly bearing, must have been by far the most regal-looking sovereign who had been crowned since the Norman Conqueror; and when Archbishop Baldwin set the crown upon his golden hair, Englishmen might for a moment dream that, stranger though he had been for nearly thirty years to the land of his birth, Richard was yet to be in reality what he was in outward aspect, a true English king.

[1353] Cf. _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 75, 76; and Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 1 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 293).

[1354] Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. pp. 453, 454.

[1355] _Ib._ p. 457. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 67. _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 74.

[1356] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 76, 77.

[1357] “Mater comitis Alienor regina de vocatione comitum, baronum, vicecomitum, uit sollicita.” R. Diceto as above, p. 68.

[1358] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 77. Gerv. Cant. as above, p. 457, says he went to check the depredations of the Welsh.

[1359] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 78, 79. Gerv. Cant. and R. Diceto as above. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 5. R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), pp. 26, 27. Will. Newb. as above (p. 294).

[1360] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 81, 82. R. Diceto as above. This last was an eye-witness, for, the see of London being vacant, the dean had to fulfil in his bishop’s stead the duty of handing the unction and chrism to the officiating primate. _Ib._ p. 69.

[1361] R. Diceto as above, p. 68.

[1362] See details in _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 80–83; and Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 9–12.

[1363] We see this in the descriptions of his magnificent dress, brilliant armour, etc. in the _Itinerarium Regis Ricardi_.

Such dreams however were soon to be dispelled. On the second day after his crowning Richard received the homage of the bishops and barons of his realm;[1364] he then proceeded into Northamptonshire, and on September 15 held a great council at Pipewell.[1365] His first act was to fill up the vacant sees, of which there were now four besides that of York. The appointments were made with considerable judgement. London, whose aged bishop Gilbert Foliot had died in 1187,[1366] was bestowed upon Richard Fitz-Nigel,[1367] son of Bishop Nigel of Ely, and for the last twenty years his successor in the office of treasurer; while Ely, again vacated scarcely three weeks ago by the death of Geoffrey Ridel,[1368] rewarded the past services and helped to secure the future loyalty of Richard’s chancellor, William of Longchamp.[1369] Winchester, vacated nearly a year ago by the death of Richard of Ilchester,[1370] was given to Godfrey de Lucy, a son of Henry’s early friend and servant Richard de Lucy “the loyal”;[1371] Salisbury, which had been without a bishop ever since November 1184,[1372] was given to Hubert Walter,[1373] a near connexion of the no less faithful minister of Henry’s later years, Ralf de Glanville. This last appointment had also another motive. Hubert Walter was dean of York; he stood at the head of a party in the York chapter which had strongly disputed the validity of Geoffrey’s election in the preceding August, and some of whom had even proposed the dean himself as an opposition candidate for the primacy.[1374] Hubert’s nomination to Salisbury cleared this obstacle out of Geoffrey’s way, and no further protest was raised when Richard confirmed his half-brother’s election in the same council of Pipewell.[1375]

[1364] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 84.

[1365] _Ib._ p. 85. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 69. Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 458.

[1366] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 5. R. Diceto as above, p. 47.

[1367] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 85. R. Diceto as above, p. 69. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 9.

[1368] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 78. R. Diceto as above, p. 68.

[1369] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 85. R. Diceto as above, p. 69. Ric. Devizes as above.

[1370] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 58. R. Diceto as above, p. 58.

[1371] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 84. R. Diceto as above, p. 69. Ric. Devizes as above.

[1372] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 32. _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 320.

[1373] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 84. R. Diceto as above, p. 69. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 9.

[1374] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 77, 78. Cf. Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. i. c. 6 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 373). Hubert had indeed been proposed for the see as far back as 1186; _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 352. See also Bishop Stubbs’s preface to Rog. Howden, vol. iv. pp. xxxix–xlvi.

[1375] Gir. Cambr. as above (p. 374).

When, however, the king turned from the settlement of the Church to that of the state, it became gradually apparent that his policy in England had only two objects:--to raise money for the crusade, and to secure the obedience of his realm during his own absence in the East. These objects he endeavoured to effect both at once by a wholesale change of ministers, sheriffs and royal officers in general, at the council of Pipewell or during the ten days which elapsed between its dissolution and the Michaelmas Exchequer-meeting. The practice of making a man pay for the privilege either of entering upon a public office or of being released from its burthen was, as we have seen, counted in no way disgraceful in the days of Henry I., and by no means generally reprobated under Henry II. Richard however carried it to a length which clearly shocked the feelings of some statesmen of the old school,[1376] if not those of the people in general. The first to whom he applied it was no less a person than the late justiciar, Ralf de Glanville. Ralf was, like Richard himself, under a vow of crusade, which would in any case have rendered it impossible for him to retain the justiciarship after the departure of the English host for Palestine.[1377] The king, however, insisted that his resignation should take effect at once,[1378] and also that it should be paid for by a heavy fine--a condition which was also required of the Angevin seneschal, Stephen of Turnham, as the price of his release from prison.[1379] Worn out though he was with years and labours,[1380] Ralf faithfully kept his vow.[1381] If all the intending crusaders had done the same, it would have been no easy matter to fill his place or to make adequate provision for the government and administration of the realm. Both king and Pope, however, had learned that for eastern as well as western warfare money was even more necessary than men; Richard had therefore sought and obtained leave from Clement III. to commute crusading vows among his subjects for pecuniary contributions towards the expenses of the war.[1382] By this means he at once raised a large sum of money, and avoided the risk of leaving England deprived of all her best warriors and statesmen during his own absence. Instead of Ralf de Glanville he appointed two chief justiciars, Earl William de Mandeville and Bishop Hugh of Durham;[1383] under these he placed five subordinate justiciars, one of whom was William the Marshal.[1384] The bishop-elect of London, Richard Fitz-Nigel, was left undisturbed in his post of treasurer, where his services were too valuable for the king to venture upon the risk of forfeiting them; but the bishop-elect of Ely, although a favourite servant and almost a personal friend of Richard, had to pay three thousand pounds for his chancellorship. On the other hand, Richard proved that in this instance he was not actuated solely by mercenary motives, by refusing a still higher bid from another candidate.[1385] All the sheriffs were removed from office; some seven or eight were restored to their old places, five more were appointed to shires other than those which they had formerly administered;[1386] the sheriffdom of Hampshire was sold to the bishop-elect of Winchester,[1387] that of Lincolnshire to Gerard de Camville, those of Leicestershire, Staffordshire and Warwickshire to Bishop Hugh of Chester;[1388] and the earldom of Northumberland was granted on similar terms to the justiciar-bishop of Durham.[1389]

[1376] This appears from the tone in which his sales of office, etc., are described by Richard Fitz-Nigel in the _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 90, 91, and by Roger of Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 13.

[1377] He had taken the cross in 1185; Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 302. The _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 87, and Will. Newb. l. iv. c. 4 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 302) say distinctly that Ralf himself wished to resign in order to fulfil his vow.

[1378] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 90. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 7, says he even put him in ward.

[1379] Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), pp. 6, 7.

[1380] _Ib._ p. 9.

[1381] He died at the siege of Acre before October 21, 1190. _Epp. Cant._ ccclvi. (Stubbs, p. 329).

[1382] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 17.

[1383] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 87. Hugh paid a thousand marks for the remission of his crusading vow, to enable him to undertake the office. _Ib._ p. 90.

[1384] Rog. Howden as above, p. 16.

[1385] Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 9.

[1386] Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii. pref. p. xxix.

[1387] Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 10.

[1388] Stubbs as above, pp. xxviii, xxix, and Madox, _Hist. Exch._, vol. i. p. 458, from Pipe Roll 2 Ric. I.

[1389] Pipe Roll 2 Ric. I. (Stubbs, as above, p. xxviii, note 3). _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 90. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 8. Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 5 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 304). Geoff. Coldingham, c. 9 (_Script. Dunelm. III._, Raine, p. 14). The grant itself, dated November 25, is in _Scriptt. Dunelm. III._, App. p. lxii.

Two other matters had to be dealt with before Richard’s preparations for departure were completed. To guard his realm from external disturbance, he must secure the fealty of the vassal-rulers of Scotland and Wales. To guard it against internal treason, he must, if such a thing were possible, secure the loyalty of the brother whom he was leaving behind him. The first was at once the less important and the easier matter of the two. Rees of South Wales had indeed profited by the change of rulers in England to break the peace which he had been compelled to maintain with King Henry, and after the council of Pipewell Richard sent John against him at the head of an armed force. The other Welsh princes came to meet John at Worcester and made submission to him as his brother’s representative;[1390] Rees apparently refused to treat with any one but the king in person, and accordingly he came back with John as far as Oxford, but Richard would not take the trouble to arrange a meeting, and was so unconcerned about the matter that he let him go home again without an audience, and, of course, in a state of extreme indignation.[1391] His threatening attitude served as an excuse for raising a scutage, nominally for a Welsh war;[1392] but the expedition was never made. The king of Scots was otherwise dealt with. Early in December, while Richard was at Canterbury on his way to the sea, William the Lion came to visit him, and a bargain was struck to the satisfaction of both parties. Richard received from William a sum of ten thousand marks, and his homage for his English estates, as they had been held by his brother Malcolm; in return, he restored to him the castles of Roxburgh and Berwick, and released him and his heirs for ever from the homage for Scotland itself, enforced by Henry in 1175.[1393]

[1390] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 87, 88.

[1391] _Ib._ p. 97.

[1392] Madox, _Hist. Exch._, vol. i. p. 664, from Pipe Roll 2 Ric. I.

[1393] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 98. Richard’s charter of release to William is in Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 30; _Gesta Ric._ as above, pp. 102, 103; Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 25, 26. It is dated (in Rymer’s copy) December 5. On this transaction see also R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 72, and Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 5 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 304).

Richard’s worst difficulty however was still unsolved: how to prevent John from trying to supplant him in his absence. Richard knew that this lad, ten years younger than himself, had been his rival ever since he was of an age to be a rival to any one; and he knew his brother’s character as, perhaps, no one else did know it as yet--for their mother had scarcely seen her youngest child since he was six years old. In the light of later history, it is impossible not to feel that Richard’s wisest course, alike for his own sake and for England’s, would have been to follow the instinct which had once prompted him to insist that John should go with him to the crusade. In this case however he was now led astray by the noblest feature in his character, his unsuspecting confidence and generosity. From the hour of their reconciliation after their father’s death, Richard’s sole endeavour respecting John was to gain his affection and gratitude by showering upon him every honour, dignity and benefit of which it was possible to dispose in his favour. The grant of the county of Mortain made him the first baron of Normandy, and it was accompanied by a liberal provision in English lands. To these were added, as soon as the brothers reached England, a string of “honours”--Marlborough, Luggershall, Lancaster, each with its castle; the Peak, Bolsover, and the whole honour of Peverel; those of Wallingford and Tickhill, and that of Nottingham, including the town; and the whole shire of Derby;[1394] besides the honour of Gloucester, which belonged to John’s betrothed bride Avice, and which Richard secured to him by causing him to be married to her at Marlborough on August 29,[1395] in spite of Archbishop Baldwin’s protests against a marriage between third cousins without dispensation from the Pope. Baldwin at once laid all the lands of the young couple under interdict; but John appealed against him, and a papal legate who came over in November to settle Baldwin’s quarrel with his own monks confirmed the appeal and annulled the sentence of the primate.[1396] At the same time Richard bestowed upon his brother four whole shires in south-western England--Cornwall, Devon, Somerset and Dorset--with the ferms and the entire profits of jurisdiction and administration.[1397] More than this even Richard could not give; if more was needed to hold John’s ambition in check, he could only trust to the skilful management of Eleanor. She was left, seemingly without any formal commission, but with the practical authority of queen-regent, and with the dowries of two former queens in addition to her own.[1398]

[1394] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 78. See also Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii., pref. p. xx.

[1395] _Gesta Ric._ as above, p. 78.

[1396] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 72, 73.

[1397] _Gesta Ric._ as above, p. 99. Stubbs as above, p. xxv. Cf. Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 3 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 301), and his comments on the subject (_ib._ p. 302).

[1398] _Gesta Ric._ as above.

One important part of Richard’s administrative arrangements was however already upset: William de Mandeville, having gone to Normandy on business for the king, died there on November 14.[1399] Earl of Essex by grant of Henry II., count of Aumale by marriage with its heiress, William had been through life one of Henry’s most faithful friends; he was honoured and esteemed by all parties on both sides of the sea; there was no one left among the barons who could command anything like the same degree of general respect; and Richard for the moment saw no means of filling his place. He therefore left Bishop Hugh of Durham as sole chief justiciar; but he made a change in the body of subordinate justiciars appointed at Pipewell. Two of them were superseded; one was replaced by Hugh Bardulf, and the other, it seems, by the chancellor William of Longchamp, who, in addition to the office which he already held, was put in charge of the Tower of London, and intrusted with powers which virtually made him equal in authority to the chief justiciar.[1400]

[1399] R. Diceto as above, p. 73. _Gesta Ric._ as above, p. 92. The day comes from Ralf. R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 26, makes it December 12.

[1400] On these appointments cf. _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 101; Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 28; Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), pp. 8, 11; Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 5 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 306); and Bishop Stubbs’s note, pref. to Rog. Howden as above, p. xxx.

None of these appointments was in itself unwise; but two worse-matched yokefellows than the justiciar and the chancellor it would have been difficult to find. Hugh of Puiset--or “Pudsey,” as his English flock called him--had stood high in both Church and state ever since the days of the civil war. Through his mother he was a great-grandson of the Conqueror, and thus cousin in no remote degree to Henry Fitz-Empress and Richard Cœur-de-Lion, as well as to Philip of France. We saw him more than forty years ago, as archdeacon and treasurer of York, meeting the ecclesiastical censures of his metropolitan with a retort on equal terms, and wielding not unsuccessfully the weapons both of spiritual and temporal warfare in the cause of his cousin William of York and his uncle Henry of Winchester. Since 1153 he had been bishop of Durham; certainly not an ideal successor of S. Cuthbert; yet his appointment had been sanctioned by the saintly archbishop Theobald; and throughout his long episcopate he shewed himself by no means ill-fitted, on the whole, for his peculiar position. That position, it must be remembered, had more than that of any other English bishop an important political side. The bishop of Durham was earl palatine of his shire; its whole administration, secular as well as ecclesiastical, was in his hands. His diocesan jurisdiction, again, extended over the whole of Northumberland, and thus brought him into immediate contact with the Scots across the border. His diocese was in fact a great marchland between England and Scotland; he was the natural medium of communication or negotiation between the two realms; and on him depended in no small degree the security of their relations with each other. For such a post it was well to have a strong man, in every sense of the words; and such a man was Hugh of Puiset. His strength was not based solely upon an unscrupulous use of great material and political resources. He was a popular man with all classes; notwithstanding his unclerical ways, he never fell into any ecclesiastical disgrace except with his own metropolitan, for whom he was generally more than a match; and he was one of the very few prelates who managed to steer their way through the Becket quarrel without either damaging their reputation as sound churchmen or forfeiting the confidence of Henry II. His intrigues with the Scot king and the rebel barons in 1174 failed so completely and so speedily that Henry found it scarcely worth while to punish them in any way; and on the other hand, Hugh’s position was already so independent and secure that he himself never found it worth while to renew them. In his own diocese, whatever he might be as a pastor of souls, he was a vigorous and on the whole a beneficent as well as magnificent ruler; the men of the county palatine grumbled indeed at his extravagance and at the occasional hardships brought upon them by his inordinate love of the chase, but they were none the less proud of his splendid buildings, his regal state, and his equally regal personality. His appearance and manners corresponded with his character and his rank; he was tall in stature, dignified in bearing, remarkably attractive in look, eloquent and winning in address.[1401] Moreover, he had lived so long in England, and all his interests had so long been centred there, that for all practical purposes, social as well as political, he was a thorough Englishman--certainly far more of an Englishman than his young English-born cousin, King Richard. For the last eight years, indeed, he had held in the north much the same position as had belonged in earlier times to the archbishops of York; for the northern province had been without a metropolitan ever since the death of Roger of Pont-l’Evêque in November 1181,[1402] and the supreme authority, ecclesiastical as well as secular, had thus devolved upon the bishop of Durham. He was now threatened with the loss of this pre-eminence; but he had no intention of giving it up without a struggle, in which his chances of success were at least as good as those of his rival the archbishop-elect; and whatever the result might be with respect to his ecclesiastical independence, he had secured a formidable counterpoise to the primate’s territorial influence by his purchase of Northumberland, which made him sole head, under the Crown, of the civil administration of the whole country between the Tweed and the Tees.

[1401] On Hugh of Durham see Will. Newb., l. v. c. 10 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 436–438), Geoff. Coldingham, cc. 1, 4, 11, 14 (_Script. Dunelm. III._, Raine, pp. 4, 8, 9, 11, 12, 14), and Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii. pref. pp. xxxiii.–xxxvii.

[1402] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 283. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 10. Will. Newb., l. iii. c. 5 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 225).

Alike in himself and in his antecedents Hugh of Puiset was the very antithesis to William of Longchamp. William had nothing of the stately presence and winning aspect which distinguished the bishop of Durham; on the contrary, he laboured under personal disadvantages which should have entitled him to sympathy, but which one of his political opponents was heartless enough to caricature, after his fall, in order to make him an object of vulgar contempt and disgust. His stature was diminutive, his countenance swarthy and ill-favoured, his figure mis-shapen, and he was moreover very lame.[1403] His origin was as lowly as his person. His father was a certain Hugh of Longchamp who in 1156 received from the king a grant of lands in Herefordshire,[1404] and about the time of the barons’ revolt was fermor of the honour of Conches in Normandy.[1405] His grandfather was said to have been a French serf who had fled from the justice of his lord and found a refuge in the Norman village whence his descendants took their name.[1406] In Henry’s latter years Hugh of Longchamp was deep in debt and disgrace,[1407] and his six sons had to make their way in the world as best they could under the shadow of the king’s displeasure.[1408] William, whose physical infirmities must have shut him out from every career save that of a clerk, first appears under the patronage of Geoffrey the chancellor, as his official in one of his many pieces of Church preferment, the archdeaconry of Rouen.[1409] The king, however, remonstrated strongly with his son on the danger of associating with a man whom he declared to be “a traitor, like his father and mother before him.”[1410] The end of his remonstrances was that, shortly before the last outbreak, William fled from Geoffrey to Richard, and, according to one account, became the chief instigator of Richard’s rebellion.[1411] However this may be, it is certain that Richard, while still merely duke of Aquitaine, employed William as his chancellor,[1412] and that he was not only so well satisfied with his services as to retain him in the same capacity after his accession to the crown, but had formed such a high opinion of his statesmanship and his fidelity as to make him his chief political adviser and confidant. Richard, like his father, was constant in his friendships, and very unwilling to discard those to whom he had once become really attached; his trust in William remained unshaken to the end of his life, and in some respects it was not misplaced. William seems to have been thoroughly loyal to his master, and his energy and industry were as unquestionable as his loyalty. As Richard’s most intimate companion, confidential secretary, and political adviser in foreign affairs, William was in his right place; but he was by no means equally well fitted to be Richard’s representative in the supreme government and administration of England. He had the primary disqualification of being a total stranger to the land, its people and its ways. Most likely he had never set foot in England till he came thither with Richard in 1189; he was ignorant of the English tongue;[1413] his new surroundings were thoroughly distasteful to him; and as he was by no means of a cautious or conciliatory temper, he expressed his contempt and dislike of them in a way which was resented not only by the people, but even by men whose origin and natural speech were scarcely more English than his own.[1414] He had in short every qualification for becoming an extremely unpopular man, and he behaved as if he desired no other destiny. The nation at large soon learned to return his aversion and to detest him as a disagreeable stranger; his colleagues in the administration despised him as an upstart interloper; the justiciar, in particular, keenly resented his own virtual subordination to one whom he naturally regarded as his inferior in every way.[1415] It was sound policy on Richard’s part to place a check upon Hugh of Durham; and it was not unnatural that he should select his chancellor for that purpose. The seven happiest years of Henry Fitz-Empress had been the years during which another chancellor had wielded a power almost as great as that which Richard intrusted to William of Longchamp. But, on the other hand, any one except Richard might have seen at a glance that of all statesmen living, William of Longchamp was well-nigh the least fitted to reproduce the career of Thomas of London.

[1403] Cf. Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 11, with the horrible caricature in Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. ii. c. 19 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 420).

[1404] Pipe Roll 2 Hen. II. (Hunter), p. 51.

[1405] _Mag. Rot. Scacc. Norm._ (Stapleton), vol. i. p. 74. Cf. Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii. pref. p. xxxviii.

[1406] Letter of Hugh of Nonant, in _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 216 (also in Rog. Howden, Stubbs, vol. iii. p. 142). Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. ii. c. 18 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 418).

[1407] _Mag. Rot. Scacc. Norm._ (Stapleton), vol. i. p. 74. Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii. pref. pp. xxxviii, xxxix and notes.

[1408] Stubbs, as above, pp. xxxix, xl.

[1409] Gir. Cambr. as above, c. 1 (p. 388).

[1410] _Ibid._ Cf. c. 19 (pp. 420, 421). It does not seem to be known exactly who William’s mother was; but she brought to her husband in dower a knight’s fee in Herefordshire under Hugh de Lacy. See _Lib. Nig. Scacc._ (Hearne), p. 155, and Stubbs, as above, p. xxxviii, note 4.

[1411] Gir. Cambr. as above, c. 19 (p. 421).

[1412] Ric. Devizes (Stevenson), p. 6.

[1413] Letter of Hugh of Nonant in _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 219.

[1414] See Gir. Cambr. _Vita Galfr._, l. ii. c. 19 (Brewer, vol. iv. p. 424).

[1415] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 101. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 29.