by Jean Plaidy
They talked together and when the Kings took their leave the attendants were whispering together that the King of France seemed mightily taken with the Queen of Sicily and since he was recently a widower and she a widow, could there be a happy outcome of their meeting?
Settling into his quarters, awaiting the return of the dowry, Richard had discovered that his men were causing a certain amount of discord in Messina. Among the population of Sicily were some of mixed European and Saracen origin; they were a hot-blooded people quickly aroused and ready to fight on the least provocation and they did not like having foreigners on their soil.
Before he had arrived there had been quarrels between the crusaders and the Sicilian natives. Dissension arose for the most trivial reasons. And when the Sicilians realised that King Richard was making arrogant demands to their King, they became more resentful. In such a situation Richard realised that it would be very easy for the men to get out of control. He was determined that this should not be so.
He conferred with Philip. He wanted rigorous discipline. The men must fear their leaders but Philip insisted that as the men were away from their homes and the conditions in which they lived must necessarily be trying there should be a certain amount of leniency.
Richard said that was nonsense and erected a gallows opposite his house.
‘Let all men beware how they conduct themselves,’ he decreed. ‘I shall have no mercy on those who offend my laws.’
People trembled before him. Sicilian babies were frightened by the warning: ‘King Richard will have you if you are not a good child.’ He was called The Lion, and in contrast the French King was given the nickname of The Lamb.
In spite of Richard’s severity trouble continued to break out. The Sicilians complained that the crusaders seduced their wives and daughters and swaggered about the town as though they owned it.
Philip thought they should not linger and that while they did so the men would be restive but Richard refused to think of leaving until he had satisfaction from Tancred. He wanted the dowry or its equivalent in money and treasure and he was going to have it or go to war.
Philip watching the situation shrewdly knew that Eleanor was waiting for the command to come to her son bringing with her Berengaria of Navarre. It was amusing to contemplate how little enthusiasm Richard appeared to have for the marriage. He was far more interested in getting even with Tancred. Of course there was Alice. How was Richard going to break free of the bonds which bound him to Philip’s sister? Philip was well aware that Richard would refuse to marry Alice and he knew why. Who would wish to marry a woman who had been his father’s mistress and borne him a child? But he was affianced to her.
The amusing angle was that although Richard did not want to marry Alice he did not seem eager to marry Berengaria either.
The fact was that Richard did not want to marry.
He would be quite happy to sail away to Acre without Berengaria and . . . with Philip.
When Richard received Tancred’s reply to his demand for the return of his sister’s dowry he was filled with rage, for Tancred quite clearly had no intention of returning the treasures.
‘He must be taught a lesson,’ cried Richard.
Philip who had been with him when Tancred’s reply was delivered urged him not to be rash; but Richard was not one to pause when his anger was aroused. Tancred had defied him and was trying to cheat him out of what he considered was his by right. Tancred therefore must be made to understand that he could not flout the King of England.
Ignoring Philip’s advice, Richard gathered his forces together and took possession of a fort and a monastery. The latter he intended to use as a storehouse; but the operation was to bring home to Tancred and the Sicilians that when Richard of England was not treated with the respect to which he was due that was the time to beware.
Tension was rising. Richard’s crusaders now believed that they were like a conquering army. They swaggered through the market places; there were stories of their forcing their attentions on unwilling women, robbing the Sicilians of their goods and behaving in a manner which was sooner or later going to destroy the peace. They assumed that as they were crusaders on their way to a holy war whatever misdemeanours they were guilty of would be forgiven in the eyes of Heaven because of their cause.
The Sicilians were not, of a nature to accept this conduct uncomplainingly and it was not long before violence broke out. This began with a trivial incident. A party of crusaders walking through the market place saw a woman selling bread. One of them took one of the loaves and when the woman demanded payment refused it. She tried to snatch the bread from him and several of the stall-holders came to her rescue. In a very short time there was a riot. The citizens gathered together against the intruders and armed with sticks and stones began to fight. The crusaders retaliated and soldiers began marching on the city although they had had no orders to do so.
When he saw what was happening Richard tried to call a halt to his army, but they were now determined on conquest and even Richard riding among his men found it difficult to call them to order.
Finally this was achieved but the incensed populace was determined to be revenged and large numbers of them prepared to attack the English camp. Richard placed himself at the head of his troops and drove the people back to the town; but this was not enough for him. These people had dared attempt to menace his soldiers. They must be taught a lesson. He marched into Messina.
The fighting was fierce and during it five of Richard’s knights and twenty men-at-arms were killed. The sight of their men lying dead infuriated the crusaders and they gave vent to their fury. That night they forgot their holy mission entirely; they were soldiers, far from home, determined to satisfy their lustful desires. They stormed the town pillaging, robbing and setting fire to the boats in the port.
When dawn came it was seen that they had set up the English standard on the walls of the city.
When he arose that morning Philip saw the flag and he was angry. Richard went too far. How could the French who had their quarters in the town allow the English to fly their flag in such a manner? It was an admission of their superiority over their allies.
He sent a messenger at once to the Villa Muschet and asked that Richard come to him. It was some time before Richard appeared. Philip marvelled when he saw him. He was fresh and alert; none would have guessed that he had been fighting far into the night. Battle stimulated Richard; there was no doubt of it. It was inactivity which he found hard to endure.
‘This is a sorry state of affairs,’ said Philip.
‘You think so?’
‘I do indeed.’ He slipped his arm through Richard’s and drew him to the window. He pointed to the English standard flying on the city wall. ‘That will not do.’
‘Methinks it does very well. It is an indication to these people that they must not insult me or my people.’
‘It would appear that your soldiers insulted them in the first place.’
‘They were over-sensitive.’
‘We are engaged in a Holy War. We cannot waste lives and money on petty battles such as this.’
‘We need to rest here. We need to refit our ships which have been damaged in the storm. We are engaged in a holy cause and Christians on the way must succour us in friendship. If they do not it is war.’
‘You are always so quick to take offence. Sometimes I think you live for your battles.’
‘I am a soldier, Philip.’
‘It seems sometimes you forget you are a king. That is something I never do. That is why I tell you that standard must come down.’
‘It stays where it is.’
‘Nay, Richard, it comes down.’
‘Tancred has to be shown that I mean what I say. If he does not pay me my dues I will take them. I will subdue the entire island. I shall not allow him to treat me and mine with impunity.’
‘This is no quarrel with Tancred. It is a dispute between your soldiers and the people. They resent them here
and I am not surprised at that. Would you care for foreign soldiery on your lands, swaggering through the market places taking what they wished, insulting the women . . . ?’
‘These people attempted to march on my camp.’
‘Because your men were making life intolerable for them. No matter, take that standard down.’
‘Is that a command?’
‘It is.’
‘And who is the King of France to command the King of England?’
‘I do not command the King of England, but the Duke of Normandy, who has sworn fealty to me as his liege lord.’
‘You are unjust.’
‘Nay, within my rights. Richard, we are together in an enterprise which needs all our skill and courage. Do not try our friendship too far. French troops are stationed here. How can they be content to rest under the English standard?’
‘Because the English placed it there in battle.’
‘A battle which should never have been fought. You are too impetuous, Richard. Have I not always told you so . . . even in the old days?’
Richard turned on his heel. His anger was great and he did not care to be reminded of the days when he had been content to ride with the King of France, to talk with him, to sleep in his bed.
Several of his most trusted counsellors were waiting for him when he returned to the villa. They knew of his visit to the King of France and what must have been its purpose.
‘One thing which would be fatal at this juncture,’ they told him, ‘would be conflict between our men and the French. This there will assuredly be while the English standard floats over the town.’
‘Let there be,’ cried Richard in a passion. ‘I placed that standard there and there it shall remain. Tancred is going to understand that if he does not meet my demands I will take the whole of his island.’
‘All very well, my lord, if it were not for the French. What if Tancred should ask their help and they give it . . . ?’
‘Philip would never fight against me.’
‘He has ordered you to remove the standard, commanding you as King of France to his vassal of Normandy. If you left it there he might be forced to take action to save his face. You have come here not to fight against the French but to stand with them against the Infidel. It was for this cause that the treasure was gathered together.’
Richard was a little sobered and when one of his friends suggested he go to the King of France and see what might be worked out, he agreed.
Philip anxious not to alienate Richard, was ready to be reasonable. He was longing to leave with him for Acre and to get away from Sicily where everything seemed to be going wrong.
He understood how embarrassing it would be for Richard to remove the standard, so he would not ask him to do that. He would suggest that the Golden Lilies of France be placed side by side with it and the two flags together float over the town. As for the keys of the city which were now in Richard’s hands, these should be put in the custody of the impartial Knights of the Temple and every effort should be made to persuade Tancred to return Queen Joanna’s dowry.
This was a reasonable solution, and the shrewdness of the King of France had saved the situation created through the impetuosity of the King of England.
Tancred, realising that he could no longer evade Richard’s demands, suggested that he and Richard meet to discuss this troublesome matter of Joanna’s dowry. The outcome of this meeting was that Tancred admitted to Richard’s right and offered to pay him twenty thousand ounces of gold to compensate him for the goods his sister had brought with her as a bride. This he pointed out would be far more useful to the crusading King than a golden table. Richard agreed to this and the matter was concluded. There was also to be considered the legacy which William had left to the last King Henry and which Richard, as his son and heir, was claiming.
He had a daughter, Tancred said, whom he was anxious to see married well. If Richard could offer her a suitable bridegroom he would add her dowry to the legacy and that would make a considerable amount. In fact for a good husband he was willing to make the legacy up to another twenty thousand ounces of gold.
Forty thousand ounces! Richard’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. He must have those forty thousand ounces!
‘If I should die childless I intend to make my nephew Arthur of Brittany my heir,’ said Richard. ‘He is the next in succession for he is the son of my brother Geoffrey who was older than my brother John; though John was falsely led by my father to believe that he had a right to the throne that is not so while Arthur lives. Arthur – in the event of my dying childless – is my heir and I shall proclaim this. I am agreeable that your daughter shall be affianced to my nephew Arthur.’
Tancred was delighted. He had come well out of his troubles. True he had had to compensate Richard but that was preferable to losing his island. But in doing so he had gained the prospect of a very brilliant marriage for his daughter. She would be Queen of England after Richard’s death if Richard had no children, and he had heard rumours that Richard was not over fond of women. Of course he would doubtless do his duty and marry and then attempt to produce a son. Tancred like everyone else had heard the rumours about Princess Alice of France who was betrothed to him and he knew too that Queen Eleanor was waiting with the Princess Berengaria of Navarre for Richard to summon them.
It was a strange affair. Richard and Philip such dear friends and all the time Richard trying to escape from his betrothal to Philip’s sister and seeming in no hurry to enter into marriage with Berengaria.
There were rumours about Richard’s private life. Tancred hoped they were true, for his great hope now would be to see his daughter Queen of England which she could very well be if Richard died childless.
So the matter of the dowry was settled to Richard’s satisfaction and Richard ordered that all the valuables which his men had taken when they sacked Messina should be returned to their rightful owners. This was done with reluctance by those who had taken possession of the treasures but Richard’s word was law. Philip suggested that he and Richard should meet in public, and there embrace and swear to each other that they would be good friends, that they would not quarrel together nor allow their armies to do so.
This was done with great effect and the tension through Sicily was considerably relaxed, and with the matter of the dowry settled there was only one thing to keep them in Sicily: the weather.
‘We have tarried too long,’ Philip complained. ‘We dare not face the seas now that winter is coming on. We shall have to wait for the spring.’
This was good sense and Richard had to agree with it. There was still no mention of Berengaria who was waiting now at Naples with Eleanor for Richard to send for her. Yet how could he until Philip had agreed to release him from his betrothal to Alice?
As they had delayed so long that they must pass the winter in Sicily, Richard built a fort-like palace of wood which was called Mate Griffon. This meant Kill Greek, a rather unfortunate name as there were several Greeks in Sicily. Here in this wooden palace he lived in great style and it was his pleasure to entertain the King of France there. They gave entertainments for each other and there were only occasional disturbances between the French and English. All knew that by fighting together they displeased their Kings who had become the dearest of friends once more.
The Lion and The Lamb were lying down together, it was said.
There would always be the uncertainty between them though. Richard often thought of Alice and asked himself how he could broach the matter to Philip. Philip too thought of his sister and wondered when Richard would raise the subject of her future. He wanted to discuss his sister with Richard but he knew Richard would ask him to release him from his promise to marry Alice, and although Philip did not wish to refuse Richard any request at the same time he could not allow his sister to be cast aside. It was true she had been the mistress of Richard’s father and possibly borne her lover a child, and no man could be expected to marry her in such circumstances. Yet she was a Pri
ncess of France.
And Berengaria? Philip laughed slyly to think of her waiting and waiting, each day looking for the messenger who did not come, wondering what was happening to her laggard lover who was so slow to claim her as his wife.
‘He is sporting with the King of France, my lady,’ murmured Philip.
It was a situation which amused him. He had contemplated suggesting a marriage with Richard’s sister Joanna, but let that wait. She was a charming woman, but like Richard, he did not want to think of marriage now.
So they vied with each other to give the better entertainments and there was much to occupy them during the waiting months.
Sometimes Philip was overwhelmed by Richard’s brilliance. There has never been such a general, he thought. Any army he commanded would come to victory simply because he was there. But Richard had his weaknesses and while these saddened Philip as a friend, as a rival King he must be grateful for them. Richard’s impetuosity over the Tancred affair could have caused a great deal of trouble and if Richard had not been such a brilliant commander it might have ended in disaster for the English, even disaster to this crusade. Yes in certain ways he was a weak man and never did he show this weakness more clearly than over the affair of the canes.
On a sparkling February day Richard and some of his knights rode out with the French to engage in a mock battle in the meadows outside Messina. This they did with great verve and Richard as usual showed his skill to such advantage that all agreed he was the greatest warrior of the day.
Riding back to Mate Griffon they passed through the town and there they encountered a peasant leading a donkey which was laden with canes.
Richard stopped him and offered to buy the canes and as the peasant dared not refuse he handed them over.
‘Come,’ he cried. ‘Instead of lances we will use canes.’
His opponent was the French knight, William des Barres, noted for his prowess and a worthy adversary for Richard.
They had soon broken their canes on each other but in doing so William des Barres had torn Richard’s cappa which was a kind of riding hood. Richard had inherited the notorious Plantagenet temper and the thought that this Frenchman had dared to tear his garment infuriated him. Angrily he went into the attack and unseated des Barres but in doing so was thrown from his own horse. One of his men immediately brought forward another horse for him but his fury affected his judgement and it seemed that des Barres would have to be declared the victor. To be beaten by a Frenchman who had had the temerity to tear his cappa was too much for Richard. He lay about him furiously at the same time shouting abuse at the Frenchman. Had des Barres been one of his own knights doubtless he would have considered it expedient to allow himself to be beaten. Not so the Frenchman. He continued to fight with all his skill and vigour and for once Richard was in danger of defeat. One of his men came hurrying to his rescue which only angered him the more.