Henry the younger had only been a few months in rebellion when he died, stricken down by a fever (1183). But the civil war in Aquitaine did not end with his death; it dragged on its path till Geoffrey, his accomplice in the rebellion, was accidentally killed at a tournament three years later (1186). Henry had no issue, but Geoffrey left an infant heir, the unfortunate Arthur of Brittany, whose sad end was to shock the succeeding generation.
The Third Crusade.—The Saladin tithe.
Henry's two rebellious sons being dead, peace was for a time restored in his continental dominions. Men's minds were turned away for a time from civil strife by dire news from the East. The Saracens had just routed the Christian King of Palestine, and recaptured Jerusalem. The work of the First Crusade was undone, and the Holy Sepulchre and the True Cross had fallen back into the hands of the infidels. The nations of the West were profoundly shocked; King Henry, his eldest surviving son Richard, and his great enemy Philip of France, all swore to take the cross and go forth to save the wrecks of the kingdom of Jerusalem from Saladin, the victorious lord of Syria and Egypt. All their baronage vowed to follow them, and the Great Council of England voted for the support of the new crusade a heavy tax, the "Saladin tithe," as it was called, which was to be a tenth of every man's goods and chattels. This was the first impost levied on personal property, that is, property other than land, which was ever raised in England. Previously, the Danegelt and the other taxes that had been raised, were calculated on landed property alone.
Third rebellion of Richard and John.—Death of Henry II.
It would have been well for the King of England if his son and his French neighbour had sailed for the Holy Land in the year that they made their vow. For another and crowning grief was about to fall upon Henry. Richard, now his heir, revolted against him, even as Henry the younger and Geoffrey had done four years before. Like his elder brother, Richard alleged that his father would not give him enough; he complained that the king did not allow him to be crowned as his colleague, and that he made too much of John, the youngest and best loved of his four sons. The ungrateful conduct of Richard broke Henry's heart; though only fifty-six years of age, he began visibly to fail in health and mind. He made little endeavour to resist his son, and allowed him to overrun Anjou and Maine unopposed. Instead of calling out all his energies and appealing to the loyalty of his English and Norman subjects, he cast himself upon his couch and gave himself up to passionate grief. Rather than take arms against Richard, he determined to give him all that he asked. So, rising from, his bed, he dragged himself to Colombières, where he met Richard and the King of France, and swore to grant all they claimed. It was noticed that his bodily weakness was so great that his servants had to hold him on his horse while the interview was taking place. Two days later he expired; the final death-blow that prostrated him was the discovery of the fact that his youngest son, John, whom he had believed to the last to be faithful to him, had secretly aided Richard and joined in the rebellion. For when he swore to pardon all Richard's accomplices, and was given the list of their names, he found that of John set at the head of the catalogue of traitors. "Let things go as they will; I have nothing to care for in the world now," he said; and, turning his face to the wall, gave up his spirit (July 7, 1189).
Character of Henry II.
So died Henry of Anjou, whom after-ages styled Plantagenet. [16] He was an Englishman neither by birth nor by breeding, and the greater part of his reign was spent abroad—two years was the longest continuous stay that he ever made on this side of the Channel. But, foreigner as he was, he was the best king that England had known since Eadgar, or that she was to know till Edward I. That he ended the awful anarchy which had prevailed since the accession of Stephen, was a merit that should never be forgotten. When the feudal danger was at its greatest, he boldly faced it, ended private wars, pulled down illegal castles, and reduced the baronage to its due obedience. And when the land was subdued beneath his hand he ruled it justly, not as a grasping tyrant, but as a wise and merciful master. Among the kings of his day he was conspicuous for two rare virtues, a willingness to pardon and forget, and a determination to stand firm by the letter of his promise. He had his faults—a hasty temper, a far-reaching ambition, a tendency to deal with men as if they were merely counters in the great game of politics; nor was his private life entirely free from blame. But he loved order and justice so well, and gave them in such good measure to his subjects, that his virtues must always outweigh in English minds his occasional lapses from the right path.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] A royal manor near Salisbury.