Chapter VI: The Last Years of Henry II (2)

Meanwhile Richard was eager to start without delay; but his father refused his consent, insisting that their expedition should be made in common. The impatient “Lion-heart,” however, was not to be thus restrained, and in his father’s absence he made all his preparations and wrote to bespeak the aid of his brother-in-law William of Sicily for the voyage which he was determined to begin as soon as the summer should arrive.[1201] But his plans were checked by a fresh rising of the Poitevin barons, headed as usual by the count of Angoulême, Geoffrey of Rancogne and Geoffrey of Lusignan.[1202] This last was the worst offender, having treacherously slain a personal friend of Richard’s.[1203] But, like Richard himself, he had taken the cross; and it was doubtless owing to this protection that, before the summer was over, he was suffered to make his escape to the realm of his hapless brother in Palestine.[1204] The other rebels were scarcely put down when Raymond of Toulouse seized and cruelly maltreated some Poitevin merchants who were passing through his territory. Richard at once avenged this outrage by an armed raid upon the frontier-districts of Toulouse, and presently managed to catch and imprison the count’s chief adviser Peter Seilun, who was said to have instigated the seizure of the merchants. Raymond retaliated by capturing two knights attached to the household of the English king, Robert Poer and Ralf Fraser, on their way back from a pilgrimage to Compostella; and neither Richard’s protest against the sacrilege of keeping pilgrims in prison, nor even the express command of the king of France for their liberation out of reverence to S. James, could induce him to give them up on any condition save the release of Peter Seilun, which Richard firmly refused.[1205] A heavy ransom offered by the two English captives themselves shortly afterwards changed Raymond’s determination;[1206] but this was of course no satisfaction to Richard, and after Whitsuntide he again invaded Toulouse with fire and sword; castle after castle fell into his hands, till at last he began to threaten the capital itself.[1207]

[1201] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 7 (Angl.
Christ. Soc., pp. 102, 103).

[1202] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 34.

[1203] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 54.

[1204] _Itin. Reg. Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 26.

[1205] _Gesta Hen._ (as above), pp. 34, 35. Cf. Rog. Howden
(Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 339, 340. The date of this expedition
of Richard’s against Toulouse seems to have been about April;
see Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.
Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 74.

[1206] Rog. Howden. (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 340.

[1207] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 36. R. Diceto
(Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 55. This last writer says that Richard
took seventeen castles, but he must be counting in those
which had been taken in the spring. The date of this second
expedition comes from Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.
Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 27, who places it between Pentecost
and midsummer. The new editors of Vic and Vaissète, _Hist.
du Languedoc_, vol. vii. p. 22, charge Rigord with false
chronology here, and insist upon following (as they suppose)
that of Will. Armor., who tells us that Richard began his
campaign against Toulouse “modico elapso tempore” after the
Mid-Lenten council at Paris (_Gesta Phil. Aug._, Duchesne,
_Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v. p. 74). If, however, they had
read the English authorities more carefully, they would have
seen that there were really two campaigns, and that while Will.
Armor. speaks of the first, Rigord is speaking of the second.

In Aquitaine even more than elsewhere, the beginning of strife was like the letting-out of water. This time the strife of Richard and Raymond led to the outbursting of a flood which ended by overspreading the whole Angevin dominions and sweeping away Henry Fitz-Empress himself. If Richard’s story was true, neither he nor Raymond was the real originator of the mischief; it was Philip of France who had secretly urged him to the attack;[1208] while another rumour, which Richard was only too ready to believe, accused Henry himself of stirring up the count of Toulouse and the Aquitanian rebels against his son, in order to prevent him from starting on the Crusade.[1209] Little as we can credit such a tale, it is easy to imagine how dexterously Philip would use it to sow dissensions between father and son and entangle the impetuous Richard in a coil such as only the sword could cut. Openly, meanwhile, Philip was taking the part of Toulouse, and peremptorily insisting that Henry should put a stop to his son’s aggressions in that quarter.[1210] Without waiting for Henry’s reply, he marched upon Berry and laid siege to Châteauroux, which surrendered to him on June 16.[1211] It was now Henry’s turn to remonstrate against this breach of truce, all the more flagrant because committed against a brother-crusader. He knew however that nothing but his own presence could make his remonstrances of any avail; sending John over before him, on the night of July 10 he hurried across the sea to Barfleur, and thence went to muster his forces at Alençon.[1212] They consisted of the feudal levies of England and Normandy, and a multitude of Welsh under the command of Ralf de Glanville,[1213] together with some Bretons and Flemish mercenaries,[1214] and apparently some Angevins and Cenomannians.[1215] Henry was however very unwilling to resort to force; his old scruple about making war upon his overlord seems not to have been yet quite extinguished, and moreover he shrank alike from the bloodshed and the expense of war. During some weeks his forces were still kept idle, save for an occasional plundering-raid across the French border.[1216] Philip meanwhile was carrying all before him in Berry, and having conquered nearly the whole district, made a dash upon Auvergne.[1217] Richard seized the opportunity for an attempt to regain Châteauroux, in which however he failed, and was only saved from capture or death by the help of a friendly butcher.[1218] His advance however had been enough to make Philip retire into his own domains.[1219] Soon afterwards the approach of the vintage-season compelled the French king to disband a part of his forces; the remainder, under command of the bishop of Beauvais, went to ravage the Norman frontier-lands. Henry demanded reparation, and threatened to cast off his allegiance in default of it; Philip retorted that he would not cease from the warfare which he had begun till all Berry and the Vexin were in his hands.[1220] At last, in the middle of August, the two kings met in person once more between Gisors and Trie; but the meeting broke up in anger; and when they parted, Philip in his rage cut down the great elm tree under which the conferences between the rulers of France and Normandy had so long been held, vowing that no conference should ever be held there again.[1221]

[1208] Rog. Howden as above. Cf. _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 39.

[1209] R. Diceto as above. Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._,
dist. iii. c. 7 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 103).

[1210] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 36.

[1211] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 55. Gerv. Cant.
(Stubbs), vol. i. p. 432, seems to have confused this siege of
Châteauroux with an earlier one. Cf. Will. Newb., l. iii. c.
25 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 276), Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.
Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 27, and Will. Armor., _Gesta Phil.
Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 74.

[1212] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 40. Cf. Gerv. Cant.
as above, p. 433. R. Diceto (as above) dates the king’s
crossing “circa festum S. Jacobi,” but this is clearly wrong.

[1213] _Gesta Hen._ as above.

[1214] R. Diceto as above.

[1215] Rog. Howden (Stubbs, vol. ii. p. 343) adds some troops
“from his other lands.”

[1216] Gerv. Cant. as above, pp. 433, 434.

[1217] Rigord as above. Will. Armor. as above; _Philipp._, l.
iii. (_ibid._), p. 122. Both these writers however throw some
suspicion upon their account of Philip’s successes by saying
that Henry was flying before him all the while, and was finally
chased back by him into Normandy--which in reality it seems
plain that he had never quitted.

[1218] Gerv. Cant. as above, p. 434.

[1219] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 45.

[1220] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 45, 46.

[1221] According to R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 55, the
conference began on August 16 and lasted three days. The _Gesta
Hen._ as above, p. 47, place it after September 1, but this is
impossible. Will. Armor., _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (Duchesne, _Hist.
Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 74, and _Philipp._, l. iii.
(_ibid._) pp. 123, 124, tells the story of the tree in a very
odd shape. He says the English were sitting comfortably under
its shade, while the French were broiling in the sun, and the
French grew so envious of the more agreeable situation of their
foes that they made a dash at them, put them to flight, and
then cut down the tree, which Henry had caused to be carefully
enclosed, as a sort of symbol of his ownership in the soil. R.
Diceto, however, says that the ground on which the tree stood
was French.

Richard had now rejoined his father,[1222] and at his instigation an attack was made by their united forces upon Mantes, which was occupied by a small French force under William des Barres, lately the commandant of Châteauroux. Richard succeeded in avenging his recent mishap at Châteauroux by taking William prisoner, but he made his escape immediately, and nothing was gained by the expedition.[1223] Richard again went into Berry; Henry lingered on the Norman border, where soon afterwards he received from Philip a demand for another conference. It took place at Châtillon on October 7, but again without result. Philip now followed Richard, who thereupon opened negotiations on his own account, offering to submit his quarrel with Toulouse to the judgement of the French king’s court;[1224] but this also came to nothing. Still the negotiations went on, and Henry’s difficulties were increasing. Chief among them was the want of money to pay his soldiers. His realms had been almost drained for the Saladin tithe; his own treasury was exhausted; his troops, seeing no prospect of either wages or plunder, began to slip away; and at last he was obliged to disband his mercenaries and send his Welsh auxiliaries back to their own country.[1225] Philip meanwhile was secretly in communication with Richard;[1226] and Richard was growing eager to bring matters to a crisis. The insidious whispers of France and Flanders had done their work in his too credulous mind. To the end of his life Richard was but little of a statesman and less of a diplomatist; it is therefore no wonder that he failed on the one hand to fathom the subtle policy of his father, and on the other to see through the wiles of Philip. His fault lay in this--that while Henry’s servants were content to trust him where they could not understand him, his own son was ready to find a ground of suspicion in every word and action of his father’s for which his own intelligence was incapable of accounting, and to credit every calumny reported to him by his father’s enemies. More than a year ago they had contrived, as has been seen, to awaken in his mind an idea that he was in danger of being disinherited in favour of his youngest brother; and it was with a determination to ascertain once for all the extent of this danger that he brought the two kings to a meeting with each other and with himself near Bonmoulins on November 18.[1227]

[1222] Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii. c. 10 (Angl.
Christ. Soc., p. 111), makes them meet before Châteauroux. He
has confused this campaign with that of the previous year.

[1223] Cf. _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 46, with Will. Armor.
_Philipp._, l. iii. (as above), pp. 124–132.

[1224] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 46, 48, 49.

[1225] _Ib._ p. 50. Cf. Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. pp. 434,
435.

[1226] Gerv. Cant. (as above), p. 435.

[1227] _Ibid._ R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 57. _Gesta
Hen._ as above.

The conference lasted three days; and each day the prospect of peace grew fainter.[1228] Philip proposed that all parties should return to the position which they had occupied before taking the cross; Henry was ready to close with this proposition, but Richard rejected it, as it would have compelled him to give up his conquests won from Toulouse and worth a thousand marks or more as demesne lands, in exchange for Châteauroux and a few other castles over which he would have had only a precarious overlordship.[1229] As far as the two kings were concerned, the meeting ended in a simple truce between them, to last till S. Hilary’s day. No sooner however was this settled than Philip offered to restore all his conquests on condition that Henry should cause his subjects to do homage to Richard as his heir, and should allow his marriage with Adela to take place immediately. Henry refused.[1230] The two kings were standing, with Richard and the archbishop of Reims, in the midst of a crowded ring of spectators. Richard himself now suddenly turned to his father, and demanded to be distinctly acknowledged as heir to all his dominions. Henry tried to put him off; he repeated his demand with the same result. “Now,” he exclaimed, “I believe what hitherto seemed to me incredible.” Ungirding his sword, he stretched out his hands to the king of France and offered him his homage and fealty for the whole continental heritage of the Angevin house; an offer which Philip readily accepted, promising in return to give back to Richard his recent conquests in Berry.[1231] Henry drew back, speechless with amazement and consternation; the crowd, seeing the two kings thus separated, rushed in between them, and the duke of Aquitaine rode away in company with the French king, leaving Henry alone with his recollections of all the evils which had come of his eldest son’s alliance with Louis VII., and his forebodings of worse mischief to come from this new alliance with Philip, who, as he well knew, was far more dangerous than Louis had ever been; for he had more brains and even fewer scruples.[1232]

[1228] Gerv. Cant. as above.

[1229] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 58.

[1230] _Ibid._ Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 435. _Gesta
Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 50.

[1231] Gerv. Cant. as above, pp. 435, 436. R. Diceto and _Gesta
Hen._ as above. Cf. Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._,
vol. v.), p. 27, and Gir. Cambr. _De Instr. Princ._, dist. iii.
c. 10 (Angl. Christ. Soc., p. 111).

[1232] Gerv. Cant. as above, p. 436.

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.