Stern and cruel, however, as was the administration of the last eight months of Richard’s reign, it was still part of a salutary discipline. The milder chastenings which Richard’s English subjects had endured from Hubert Walter, the scorpion-lashes with which he chastised them by the hands of Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, were both alike stages in the training which Richard’s predecessor had begun, and whose value they were to learn when left face to face with the personal tyranny of his successor. For nearer at hand than they could dream was the day when English people and Angevin king were to stand face to face indeed, more closely than they had ever stood before. The nine generations of increasing prosperity promised to Fulk the Good were all numbered and fulfilled, and with their fulfilment had come the turn of the tide. The power of the Angevins had reached its destined limit, and had begun to recede again. From the sacred eastern land all trace of it was already swept away; in the west it was, slowly indeed as yet, but none the less surely falling back. Five years were still to pass before the tide should be fairly out; then it was to leave the Good Count’s heir stranded, not on the black rock of Angers, but on the white cliffs of England.

Richard had spent the first half of his reign in fighting for a lost cause in Palestine; he spent the other half in fighting for a losing cause in Gaul. The final result of the long series of conquests and annexations whereby the Angevin counts, from Fulk the Red to Henry Fitz-Empress, had been enlarging their borders for more than two hundred years, had been to bring them into direct geographical contact and political antagonism with an enemy more formidable than any whom they had yet encountered. In their earliest days the king of the French had been their patron; a little later, he had become their tool. Now, he was their sole remaining rival; and ere long he was to be their conqueror. Since the opening of the century, a great change had taken place in the political position of the French Crown; a change which was in a considerable measure due to the yet greater change in the position of the Angevin house. When Louis VI. came to the throne in 1109, he found the so-called “kingdom of France” distributed somewhat as follows. The western half, from the river Somme to the Pyrenees, was divided between four great fiefs—Normandy, Britanny, Anjou and Aquitaine. Four others—Champagne, Burgundy, Auvergne and Toulouse—covered its eastern portion from the river Meuse to the Mediterranean Sea; another, Flanders, occupied its northernmost angle, between the sources of the Meuse, the mouth of the Scheld, and the English Channel. The two lines of great fiefs were separated by an irregular group of smaller territories, amid which lay, distributed in two very unequal portions, the royal domain. Its northern and larger half, severed from Flanders by the little counties of Amiens and Vermandois, was flanked on the east by Champagne and on the north-west by Normandy, while its south-western border was ringed in by the counties of Chartres, Blois and Sancerre, which parted it from Anjou, and which were all linked together with Champagne under the same ruling house. Southward, in the upper valleys of the Loire and the Cher, a much smaller fragment of royal domain, comprising the viscounty of Bourges and the territory afterwards known as the Bourbonnais, lay crowded in between Auvergne, the Aquitanian district of Berry, and the Burgundian counties of Mâcon and Nevers and that of Sancerre, which parted it from the larger royal possessions north of the Loire. The whole domains of the Crown thus covered scarcely more ground than the united counties of Anjou, Touraine and Maine, scarcely so much as the duchy of Normandy. Within these limits, however, Louis VI. had in his twenty-nine years’ reign contrived to establish his absolute authority on so firm a basis that from thenceforth the independence of the Crown was secured. To destroy that of the great feudataries, and to bring them one by one into a subjection as absolute as that of the royal domain itself, was the work which he bequeathed to his successors.

Map VII.

Wagner & Debes’ Geogˡ. Estabᵗ. Leipsic.

London, Macmillan & Co.

We may set aside the temporary annexation of Aquitaine through the marriage of Louis VII. and Eleanor as forming no part of this process of absorption. In the plans of Louis VI. it was doubtless meant to be a very important part; but as a matter of fact, its historical importance proved to be of a wholly different kind. The marriage of Louis and Eleanor contributed to the final acquisition of Guienne and Gascony by the French Crown not a whit more than the marriage of Geoffrey Martel and Agnes had contributed to their acquisition by the house of Anjou. The Parisian king, like his Angevin follower of old, had work to do on his own side of the Loire before he might safely attempt the conquest of the south. By the middle of the century, the map of Gaul had undergone a marked transformation. Its eastern and central portions indeed remained unchanged; but the western half was utterly metamorphosed. Its four great divisions had been virtually swept away, and the whole land had become Angevin. In face of this altered state of things, the remaining powers of northern Gaul were of necessity driven into union, as a counterpoise to this enormous growth of Anjou; and the only possible centre of union, alike in a political and a geographical point of view, was the king of the French. He alone could claim to match in rank and dignity the crowned masters of the west; and under his leadership alone was it possible to face them all along the line from the mouth of the Somme to the source of the Cher with a front as unbroken as their own. The old Angevin march had ceased to be a marchland at all; its original character was now transferred to the counties of Chartres and Blois; while to north and south of these, from Nonancourt to Aumale and along the whole course of the Cher above Vierzon, the royal domain itself was the sole bulwark of north-eastern Gaul against the advancing power of Anjou. To secure Chartres and Blois was the first necessity for the king: but their counts needed his protection even more than he needed their fidelity, for the whole width of his domains parted them from Champagne, where the bulk of their strength lay. Accordingly Louis VII., by the matrimonial alliances which he formed first for his daughters and lastly for himself with the house of Blois and Champagne, easily succeeded in binding them to a community of personal interests with the royal house of France, whereby their subservience to the French Crown was for the future secured. The chain was too strong to be broken by the boyish wilfulness of Philip Augustus; and from the moment of his reconciliation with his mother and uncles in 1180, the whole military and political strength of Blois, Chartres and Champagne may be reckoned at his command as unreservedly as that of his own immediate domains.

Since that time, the royal power had made an important advance to the northward. At the opening of Philip’s reign the dominions of the count of Flanders stretched from the Channel to the borders of Champagne, covered the whole northern frontier of the royal domain, and touched that of Normandy at its junction with Ponthieu. Twelve years later, more than half this territory had passed, either by cession or by conquest, into the hands of the king. Vermandois was given up to him in 1186; and in 1191 the death of the Flemish count Philip made him master of all Flanders south of the river Lys, which had been promised to him as the dowry of his first queen, Elizabeth of Hainaut, niece of the dead count and daughter of his successor.[1805] This was in several respects a most valuable acquisition. Not only did it bring to the Crown a considerable accession of territory, including the whole upper valley of the Somme, the famous fortress of Péronne, and the flourishing towns of Amiens and Arras; but the power of Flanders, which a few years before had threatened to overshadow every other power in northern Gaul, was completely broken; and the effect upon the political position of Normandy was more important still. While Vermandois and Amiens were in Flemish hands, a league between the Flemish count and the ruler of Normandy would at any moment not only place the whole north-western border of France at their mercy, but would enable them to call in the forces of the imperial Crown to a junction which the French king could have no power to hinder, and which must almost certainly lead to his ruin. Now, on the other hand, such a junction was rendered well-nigh impossible; the whole territory between Normandy, Ponthieu and the German border was in the king’s own hands, and all that was left of Flanders lay in almost complete isolation between the Lys and the sea. In fine, as the dukes of Burgundy had for several generations been obedient followers of their royal kinsmen, now that Blois, Champagne and Vermandois were all secured, the power and influence of the French Crown north of the Loire was fully a match in territorial extent for that of the house of Anjou. South of the Loire the balance was less equal. The extensive possessions of the house of S. Gilles may indeed be left out of both scales; their homage for Toulouse was now secured to the dukes of Aquitaine, but it was a mere formality which left them practically still independent of both their rival overlords. It was indeed at the expense of Toulouse that the Angevin rulers of Poitou had made their last conquest, that of the Quercy. But since then the French king, too, had been gaining territory in Aquitaine; and his gains were made at the expense of the Poitevin duke. Richard had found it needful to buy Philip’s assent to his peaceful entrance upon his ancestral heritage after his father’s death by a renunciation of all claims upon Auvergne and a cession of two important lordships in Berry, Graçay and Issoudun.[1806] The sacrifice was trifling in itself, but it was significant. It marked Richard’s own consciousness that a turning-point had come in the career of his house. Hitherto they had gone steadily forward; now it was time to draw back. The aggressive attitude which had been habitual to the counts of Anjou for nearly three hundred years must be dropped at last. Henceforth they were to stand on the defensive in their turn against the advance of the French Crown.

It was not the strength of that advance itself which made it so formidable to Richard; it was the knowledge that, side by side with the process of consolidation in France, there had been and still was going on in the Angevin dominions a process of disintegration which his father had been unable to check, and against which he himself was well-nigh helpless. The French monarchy was built up around one definite centre, a centre round which all the subordinate parts of the structure grouped themselves unquestioningly as a matter of course. Paris and its king, even when his practical authority was at the lowest ebb, had always been in theory the accepted rallying-point of the whole kingdom, the acknowledged head of the body politic, none of whose members had ever dreamed of establishing any other in its place. But the empire of Richard Cœur-de-Lion had no centre; or rather, it had three or four rival ones. In Angevin eyes its centre was Angers; in Norman eyes it was Rouen; to the men of the south, it was Poitiers. Even Henry Fitz-Empress had felt at times the difficulty of fulfilling two such opposite parts as those of duke of Normandy and count of Anjou without rousing the jealous resentment of either country against himself as the representative of the other; while as for Britanny and Aquitaine, he had only been able to keep an uncertain hold over them by sheer force, until Britanny was appeased by the marriage of Constance, and Aquitaine subdued by the vigour of Richard. But for Richard in his father’s place the difficulty was far greater. Chafe as they might against the yoke which bound them together—dispute as they might over their respective shares in their common ruler and their respective claims upon him—neither Angevin nor Norman could fail to recognize his own natural sovereign and national representative in the son of Geoffrey and Matilda. But the chances of this recognition being extended to the next generation expired with the young king. If the two Henrys were strangers in Britanny and in Aquitaine, yet on the banks of the Seine, the Loire and the Mayenne they were felt to be at home. But Richard was at home nowhere, though he was master everywhere, from the Solway to the Pyrenees. His Aquitanian subjects for the most part, if they counted him as a fellow-countryman, counted him none the less as an enemy; his subjects north of Loire counted him as a southern stranger. Normans and Angevins still saw in him, as they had been taught to see in him for the first twenty-six years of his life, the representative not of Hrolf and William or of Fulk the Red and Geoffrey Martel, but simply of his mother’s Poitevin ancestors. The Bretons saw in him the son of their conqueror, asserting his supremacy over them and their young native prince only by the right of the stronger. As Suger had laid it down as an axiom, more than half a century ago, that “Englishmen ought not to rule over Frenchmen nor French over English,” so now we begin to discern growing up in Richard’s continental dominions a feeling that Normans should not rule over Angevins, nor Angevins over Normans, nor either over Bretons and Poitevins, nor Poitevins over any of the rest; and that if one and all must needs submit to the loss of their ancient independence, it would be more natural and less humiliating to lay it down at the feet of the prince who had always been acknowledged in theory as the superior of all alike, the king of the French.