Cameos from English History, from Rollo to Edward II

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  These violent exertions seriously injured Richard's health, and a low fever placed him in great danger, as well as several of his best knights. No command or persuasion could induce the rest to commence any enterprise without him, and the tidings from Europe induced him to conclude a peace, and return home. Malek-el-Afdal came to visit him, and a truce was signed for three years, three months, three weeks, three days, three hours, and three minutes-thus so quaintly arranged in accordance with some astrological views of the Saracens. Ascalon was to be demolished, on condition free access to Jerusalem was allowed to the pilgrims; but Saladin would not restore the piece of the True Cross, as he was resolved not to conduce to what he considered idolatry. Richard sent notice that he was coming back with double his present force to effect the conquest; and the Sultan answered, that if the Holy City was to pass into Frank hands, none could be nobler than those of the Malek Rik. Fever and debility detained Richard a month longer at Joppa, during which time he sent the Bishop of Salisbury to carry his offerings to Jerusalem. The prelate was invited to the presence of Saladin, who spoke in high terms of Richard's courage, but censured his rash exposure of his own life.

  On October 9th, 1193, Coeur de Lion took leave of Palestine, watching with tears its receding shores, as he exclaimed, "O Holy Land! I commend thee and thy people unto God. May He grant me yet to return to aid thee!"

  The return from this Crusade was as disastrous as that from the siege of Troy. David, Earl of Huntingdon, the Scottish King's brother (the Sir Kenneth of the Talisman), who had shared in all Richard's toils and glories, embarked at the same time, but was driven by contrary winds to Alexandria, and there seized and sold as a slave. Some Venetian merchants, discovering his rank, bought him, and brought him to their own city, where he was ransomed by some English merchants, and conducted by them to Flanders; but while sailing for Scotland, another storm wrecked him near the mouth of the Tay, near the town of Dundee, the name of which one tradition declares to be derived from his thankfulness-_Donum Dei_, the Gift of God. He founded a monastery in commemoration of his deliverance.

  The two queens, Berengaria and Joan, were driven by the storm to Sicily, and thence travelled through Italy. At Rome, to their horror, they recognized the jewelled baldric of King Richard exposed for sale; but they could obtain no clue to its history, and great was their dread that he had either perished in the Mediterranean waves, or been cut off by the many foes who beset its coasts.

  His ship had been driven out of its course into the Adriatic, where the pirates of the Dalmatian coast attacked it. He beat them off, and then prevailed on them to take him into their vessel and land him on the coast of Istria, whence he hoped to find his way to his nephew Otho, Count of Saxony, elder brother of Henry, King of Jerusalem. This was the only course that offered much hope of safety, since Italy, France, Austria, and Germany were all hostile, and the rounding Spain was a course seldom attempted; so that it was but a choice of dangers for him to attempt to penetrate to his own domains. Another shipwreck threw him on the coast between Venice and Aquileia; he assumed a disguise, and, calling himself Hugh the Merchant, set out as if in the train of one of his own knights, named Baldwin de Bethune, through the lands of the mountaineers of the Tyrol. The noblesse here were mostly relatives of Conrade of Montferrat; and Philippe Auguste having spread a report that Richard had instigated his murder, it was no safe neighborhood. He sent one of his men to Count Meinhard von Gorby, the first of these, asking for a safe-conduct, and accompanying the request with a gift of a ruby ring. Meinhard, on seeing the ring, exclaimed, "Your master is no merchant. He is Richard of England: but since he is willing to honor me with his gifts, I will leave him to depart in peace."

  However, Meinhard sent intelligence to Frederic of Montferrat, Conrade's brother, through whose domains Richard had next to pass. He sent a Norman knight, called Roger d'Argenton, who was in his service, to seek out the English King; but d'Argenton would not betray his native prince, warned Richard, and told Frederic that it was only Baldwin de Bethune. Not crediting him, the Marquis passed on the intelligence to the Duke of Austria; and Richard, who had left Bethune's suite, and was only accompanied by a page, found every inhabited place unsafe, and wandered about for three days, till hunger, fatigue, and illness drove him to a little village inn at Eedburg.

  Thence he sent his servant to Vienna, a distance of a few miles, to change some gold bezants for the coin of the country. This attracted notice, and the page was carried before a magistrate, and interrogated. He professed to be in the service of a rich merchant who would arrive in a day or two, and, thus escaping, returned to his master, and advised him to hasten away; but Richard was too unwell to proceed, and remained at the inn, doing all in his power to avert suspicion-even attending to the horses, and turning the spit in the kitchen. His precautions were disconcerted; the page, going again to Vienna, imprudently carried in his belt an embroidered hawking-glove, which betrayed its owner to be of high rank; and being again seized and tortured, confessed his master's name and present hiding-place.

  Armed men were immediately sent to surround the inn, and the Mayor of Vienna, entering, found the worn-out pilgrim lying asleep upon his bed, and aroused him with the words, "Hail, King of England! In vain thou disguisest thyself; thy face betrays thee."

  Awakening, the Lion-heart grasped his sword, declaring he would yield it to none but the Duke. The Mayor told him it was well for him that he had fallen into their hands, rather than into those of the Montferrat family; and Leopold, arriving, reproached him for the insult to the Austrian banner, which indeed was far more dishonored by its lord's foul treatment of a crusading pilgrim, than by its fall into the moat of Acre. He was conducted to Vienna, and thence to the lonely Castle of Tierenstein, where he was watched day and night by guards with drawn swords. Leopold sent information of his capture to the Emperor, Henry VI., who bore a grudge to Richard for his alliance with Tancred, who had usurped Sicily from the Empress Constance; he therefore offered a price for the illustrious prisoner, and placed him in the strong Castle of Triefels. Months passed away, and no tidings reached him from without. He deemed himself forgotten in his captivity, and composed an indignant _sirvente_ in his favorite Provencal tongue. The second verse we give in the original, for the sake of being brought so near to the royal troubadour:

  "Or sachen ben, mici hom e mici baron,

  Angles, Norman, Peytavin, et Gascon,

  Qu'yeu non hai ja si pauore compagnon

  Que per ave, lou laissesse en prison.

  Faire reproche, certes yeu voli. Non;

  Mais souis dos hivers prez."

  Or, as it may be rendered in modern French:

  "Or sachent bien, mes hommes, mes barons,

  Anglais, Normands, Poitevins, Gascons,

  Que je n'ai point si pauvre compagnon

  Que pour argent, je le laisse en prison.

  Faire reproche, certes, je ne le veux. Non;

  Mais suis deux hivers pris."

  This melancholy line, "Two winters am I bound," is the burden of the song, closing the recurring rhymes of each stanza. In the next he complains that a captive is without friends or relations, and asks where will be the honor of his people if he dies in captivity. He laments over the French King ravaging his lands and breaking the oaths they had together sworn while he is "_deux hivers pris_," and speaks of two of his beloved troubadour companions by name, as certain to stir up his friends in his cause, and to mourn for his loss while he is "_deux hivers pris_."

  He was right; the troubadours were his most devoted friends; Bertram de Born was bewailing him, and Blondel de Nesle, guided by his faithful heart, sang his King's own favorite lays before each keep and fortress, until the unfinished song was taken up and answered from the windows of the Castle of Triefels.

  The clue was found: Queen Eleanor wrote instantly to the Pope, calling on him to redress the injury offered to a returning pilgrim, yet signed with the Cross, and sent two abbots and the Bishop of Ely to visit him. F
rom them he learnt that his brother John and Philippe of France were using every means to prevent his return; but this gave him the less concern, as he said, "My brother John was never made for conquering kingdoms."

  His ex-chancellor, William Longchamp, who had been expelled from England for tyrannical government, thought to serve his cause by a forgery of a letter in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, purporting to be from the Old Man of the Mountain, exculpating Richard from the murder of Conrade. It ran thus: "To Leopold, Duke of Austria, and to all princes and people of the Christian faith, Greeting. Whereas many kings in countries beyond the seas impute to Richard, King and Lord of England, the death of the Marquis, I swear by Him who reigns eternally, and by the law which we follow, that King Richard had no participation in this murder. Done at our Castle of Shellia, and sealed with our seal, Midseptember, in the year 1503 after Alexander."

  No one thought of inquiring what brought this confession from the father of assassins, or why he chose Alexander for his errand, the letter was deemed conclusive, gave great encouragement to Richard's partisans, and caused many of the French to refuse to take up arms against him.

  Now that his captivity was public, Henry VI. sent for him to Hagenau, where he pleaded his cause before the diet, was allowed more liberty, and promised permission to ransom himself, after performing homage to the Emperor, which probably was required of him to show the subordination of the Royal to the Imperial rank.

  Philippe and John tempted the avarice of Henry by the offer of twice the sum if he would give them the captive, or 20,000 marks for every month that he was detained. However, the free princes of Germany, stirred up by Richard's nephew, the Count of Saxony, were so indignant at their master's conduct, that he could not venture to accept the tempting offer, and on the 28th of February, 1194, he indited this note to his ally, the King of France: "Take care of yourself! The devil is unchained; but I could not help it."

  Philippe forwarded the warning to his accomplice, John, who tried to raise the English to prevent his brother from landing; but they were rejoicing at the return of their own King, and even before his arrival had adjudged John guilty of treason, and sentenced him to lose his manors.

  March 20th, Richard landed at Sandwich, and two days after entered London, among the acclamations of his subjects, who displayed all their wealth to do him honor, and caused the Germans who accompanied him to say that, if their Emperor had guessed at half the riches of England, his ransom would have been doubled.

  John was soon brought to sue for the pardon so generously given, and all ranks vied with each other in raising the ransom. William the Lion of Scotland presented the King with 2,000 marks, and the first instalment was sent to Germany; but before it arrived, Henry VI. was dead, and the Germans were so much ashamed of the transaction, that they returned the money.

  Thus ended the expedition, in which Richard had gained all the glory that valor and generosity could attain, conquered a kingdom and given it away, fought battles with desperate courage and excellent skill, and shown much fortitude and perseverance, but had marred all by his unbridled temper.

  CAMEO XXV. ARTHUR OF BRITTANY. (1187-1206.)

  _Kings of England_.

  1154. Henry II.

  1189. Richard I.

  1199. John.

  _Kings of Scotland_.

  1158. Malcolm IV.

  1165. William.

  _King of France_.

  1180. Philippe II.

  _Emperors of Germany_.

  1152. Friedrich I.

  1191. Henry VI.

  _Popes._

  1183. Clement IV.

  1189. Celestine III.

  1193. Innocent III.

  The son of Geoffrey Plantagenet and Constance, Duchess of Brittany, was born at Nantes, on Easter-day, 1187, six months after the death of his father. He was the first grandson of Henry II., for the graceless young King Henry had died childless. Richard was still unmarried, and the elder child of Geoffrey was a daughter named Eleanor; his birth was, therefore, the subject of universal joy. There was a prophecy of Merlin, that King Arthur should reappear from the realm of the fairy Morgana, who had borne him away in his death-like trance after the battle of Camelford, and, returning in the form of a child, should conquer England from the Saxon race, and restore the splendors of the British Pendragons.

  The Bretons, resolved to see in their infant duke this champion of their glories, overlooked the hated Angevin and Norman blood that flowed in his veins, and insisted on his receiving their beloved name of Arthur. Thanksgivings were poured forth in all the churches in Brittany, and the altars and shrines at the sacred fountains were adorned with wreaths of flowers.

  At the same a time a Welsh bard directed King Henry to cause search to be made at Glastonbury, the true Avallon, for the ancient hero's corpse, which, as old traditions declared, had been buried between two pyramids within the abbey. There, in fact some distance beneath the surface, was found a leaden cross, inscribed with the words, "_Hic jacet sepultus inclytus Rex Arthurus in insula Avallonia_" (Here lies buried the unconquered King Arthur in the isle of Avallon). A little deeper was a coffin, hollowed out of an oak tree, and within lay the bones of the renowned Arthur and his fair Queen Guenever. His form was of gigantic size; there were the marks of ten wounds upon his skull, and by his side was a sword, the mighty Caliburn, or Excalibar, so often celebrated in romances. Guenever's hair was still perfect, to all appearance, and of a beautiful golden color, but it crumbled into dust on exposure to the air. The Bretons greatly resented this discovery, which they chose to term an imposture of Henry's, in order to cast discredit on Merlin's prediction.

  They were, however, in no condition to oppose the grasping monarch; Henry entered Brittany, assembled the States at Nantes, and claimed the guardianship of his grandson's person and domains. They were at first intimidated by his threats, but Constance showed so much spirit, that she obtained the keeping of her son, and the immediate government, though she was not to act without the advice and consent of the King of England, who received the oaths of the barons present. The widowed heiress suffered much persecution from the different suitors for her hand, among whom figured her brother-in-law, John Lackland; and Henry, fearing her marriage with some powerful prince, so tormented her by threats of removing her son from her charge, that he forced her into a marriage with Ranulf de Blondeville, Count of Chester, grandson to an illegitimate son of Henry I., a man of violent, and ambitious temper, and of mean and ungraceful appearance. In a dispute which took place between him and the Count de Perche, in Lincoln Cathedral, the latter contemptuously called him a dwarf. "Sayest thou so?" cried Ranulf; "ere long I shall seem to thee as high as that steeple!"-and his words were fulfilled, when, as Duke of Brittany, he claimed the allegiance of the Count.

  He made himself extremely hated in Brittany by his cruelty and injustice; and no sooner had the news arrived of the death of Henry II., than the people rose with one consent, drove him away, and restored the power to Constance. Richard I. did not interfere in his behalf, and appeared favorable to his nephew Arthur, acknowledging him as heir-presumptive of England, and, when at Messina, betrothing him to the daughter of Tancred, King of Sicily. It was probably in honor of this intended alliance that Richard presented Tancred with the sword Excalibar, which certainly should never have passed out of the possession of the British.

  Constance remained at peace for the present, though Richard's absence left the other territories over which he asserted his power exposed to much disturbance. He had left the government of England in the hands of Hugh, Bishop of Durham (the young Earl), and William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely-a native of Beauvais, who had risen to high favor in the employ first of Geoffrey, the son of Rosamond, Archbishop of York, and was now chancellor, and afterward of Richard. He was an arrogant man, and broke through all restraint, imprisoned his colleague, deprived him of his offices, and forced him to resign his earldom; then, when Richard despatched orders that he should be re-instated, declared that he knew w
hat were the King's private intentions, and should obey no public instructions. He sealed public acts with his own seal instead of the King's, kept a guard of fifteen hundred rapacious and disorderly mercenaries, plundered men of every rank, so that it was said "the knight could not keep his silver belt, the noble his ring, the lady her necklace, nor the Jew his merchandise." He travelled in great state, with a train of minstrels and jesters, who drowned the outcries of the injured people by songs in his praise. Again Richard sent orders to restrain him, but in vain; he only declared them a forgery, and pursued his careless course.

  Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, had sworn not to enter the kingdom for three years, but he now returned; whereupon the chancellor seized him while at mass, and kept him prisoner. John had no love for his half-brother: but this was a good opportunity of overthrowing the chancellor, after such an outrage on the person of an archbishop; and, at the head of the barons and bishops, he forced Longchamp to resign the chancellorship, and promise to give up the keys of the King's castles.

  To avoid yielding the castles, he attempted to escape from England in disguise, and arrived at the seashore of Kent in the dress of an old woman-a gown with large sleeves, a thick veil, and a bundle of linen and ell-wand in his hand. The tide did not serve, and he was forced to seat himself on a stone to wait for his vessel. Here the fisherwomen came up and began to examine his wares, and ask their price; but the English chancellor and bishop understood no English, and only shook his head. Thinking him a crazy woman, they peeped under his veil, and, "spying a great beard under his muffler," raised a shout which brought their husbands to the spot, who, while he vainly tried to explain himself, dragged him in derision through the mud, and shut him up in a cellar. He was, however, released, gave up the keys, and left England.

  Geoffrey became chancellor in his stead, and took possession of the see of York. The next disturbance was caused by the return of Philippe of France, begging Pope Celestine III. to absolve him of his oath to respect Richard's dominions. Celestine refused, and no one was found to second his plans but Richard's own brother John, whom he brought over by promises of securing to him the succession, and bestowing on him the continental fiefs. The English, and with them William the Lion of Scotland and his brother David, maintained the rights of the young Arthur, and matters continued in suspense till Richard's release from his captivity.