This feeling, however, had scarcely come into existence, much less risen to the surface of politics, when Philip Augustus came home from the Crusade at Christmas 1191. It is scarcely probable that any plan of actual conquest had as yet taken shape in Philip’s mind. But the very audacity of the demand which he made upon the credulity of the Norman constables when in the following spring he asked them to believe that Richard had ceded to him not only the whole Vexin, but also the counties of Aumale and Eu—a cession for which there was not a shadow of reason either in past history or in present circumstances, and which if carried into effect would have cut off the Norman communications with Ponthieu and Flanders, and given him at once a foothold upon the Channel and an invaluable coign of vantage for an attempt upon Rouen—seems to indicate that he was already forming some more definite design against the Angevins’ power than the simple system of lying in wait to steal from them any territorial or political advantage that could be stolen with impunity, with which he, like his father, had hitherto been content. The terms of his treaty with John in the following year point still more strongly in the same direction. As the price of John’s investiture with the rest of his brother’s dominions, Philip reserved to himself the whole Norman territory on the right bank of the Seine, except the city of Rouen; on the left bank, nearly half the viscounty of Evreux, including the castles of Vaudreuil, Verneuil and Ivry; and from the older Angevin patrimony, all that was most worth having in Touraine—Tours itself, Azay, Montbazon, Montrichard, Amboise and Loches—besides the transfer of the Angevin fiefs in the Vendômois from the count of Anjou to the count of Blois.[1807] Owing to the disorganized state of Richard’s dominions caused by his captivity, Philip’s endeavours to carry this bargain into effect by conquering Normandy in John’s interest and his own met for a while with considerable success. His first attempt at invasion was indeed repulsed by the Norman barons under the leadership of Earl Robert of Leicester;[1808] but a few weeks later treason opened to him the gates of Gisors and Neaufle; the rest of the Vexin was easily won,[1809] and secured thus against attack in his rear, he marched northward to the capture of Aumale and Eu.[1810] Thence he turned back to besiege Rouen, but soon retreated again into his own territories,[1811] taking Pacy and Ivry on his way.[1812] In July, finding that, according to his own phrase, the Angevin demon was after all to be let loose upon him once more, he thought it advisable to accept Richard’s overtures of peace; and Richard on his part—being still in prison—deemed it wise for the moment to sanction the French king’s recent conquests in Normandy and the liberation of Ademar of Angoulême, and also to let Philip have temporary possession of Loches, Châtillon-sur-Indre, Driencourt and Arques, as pledges for the payment of twenty thousand marks, due within two years of his own release.[1813]

Whether he intended to keep or to break these engagements is practically no matter; for, if he meant to break them, Philip took care to anticipate him. Seven months after the treaty was signed he again crossed the Norman border, took Evreux,[1814] which he handed over to John’s custody,[1815] and marched up by way of Neubourg and Vaudreuil, both of which he captured, to besiege Rouen. Thence, however, he again retired—scared, it may be, by tidings of Richard’s approach—and hurrying back to the southern border laid siege to Verneuil on May 10.[1816] Two days later Richard landed at Barfleur,[1817] and by the end of another fortnight he was encamped at L’Aigle,[1818] within a few miles of Verneuil. His presence there, coupled with the defection of John who had contrived to join him on the road,[1819] and the surprise and slaughter of the French garrison of Evreux by a body of Norman troops,[1820] alarmed Philip so much that on Whitsun Eve, May 28, he again fled into his own dominions.[1821] Richard was busy strengthening the walls of Verneuil when tidings came to him that “the Angevins and Cenomannians” were besieging Montmirail,[1822] a castle on the borders of Perche and Maine, famous as the scene of a stormy conference between Henry II. and S. Thomas. Who the besiegers actually were, or what was the ground of their hostility either to William of Montmirail[1823] or to his overlord King Richard, must remain undecided. It is plain, however, that in Richard’s ears the tidings sounded as a warning of disaffection in his patrimonial dominions. He hurried to the relief of Montmirail, but found it levelled with the ground.[1824] He wasted no time in pursuit of its destroyers, but pushed on direct to Tours, took up his quarters in Châteauneuf,[1825] and shewed his suspicions concerning the origin of the new mischief by driving the canons of S. Martin out of the abbey where they dwelt under the special protection of the French king.[1826] The burghers, on the other hand, made proof of their loyalty by a free-will offering of two thousand marks.[1827] Determined now to redeem his pledges to Philip not with gold but with steel, Richard marched on to Beaulieu,[1828] to join a body of Navarrese and Brabantines, sent by his brother-in-law Sancho of Navarre, in blockading the castle of Loches;[1829] a few days after his arrival, on June 13, it was surrendered by its French garrison.[1830] He was however standing between two fires. Bertrand de Born was again stirring up the south, singing and fighting ostensibly in Richard’s interest against his disaffected neighbours in the Limousin, but in reality kindling into a fresh blaze all the reckless passions and endless feuds which had been smouldering too long for the warrior-poet’s pleasure.[1831] Philip meanwhile was again threatening Rouen;[1832] the Norman archbishop and seneschal attempted to negotiate with him in Richard’s name, but without result;[1833] and at the end of the month he marched southward to meet Richard himself. On July 4 the two kings were within a few miles of each other—Richard at Vendôme, Philip at Fréteval.[1834] What followed is told so diversely by the English and French historians of the time that it seems impossible to reconcile the rival accounts or to decide between them. All that we know for certain is that Philip suddenly struck his tents and withdrew into the territories of the count of Blois; that Richard set off in pursuit, missed Philip himself, but fell at unawares upon the troops who were convoying his baggage towards Blois, routed them, and captured all the French king’s most precious possessions, including his royal seal and the treasury-rolls of the whole kingdom, besides a number of valuable horses, an immense quantity of money and plate, and—what would be scarcely less useful to Richard for political purposes—the charters of agreement between Philip and all the Norman, Angevin and Poitevin rebels who had plotted treason with him and John against their lord.[1835]

The repairing of this disaster gave Philip sufficient occupation for the rest of the year, and Richard was free to march upon the Aquitanian rebels. Sancho of Navarre was already wasting the lands of the ringleaders, Geoffrey of Rancogne and Ademar of Angoulême;[1836] and by July 22 Richard was able to report to his justiciar in England that he was master of all the castles of the Angoumois and all the lands of Geoffrey.[1837] From Angoulême he marched northward again, took measures for the security of Anjou and Maine,[1838] and then returned to Normandy, where he found that his representatives, headed by the chancellor, had just concluded a truce with the French king to last till All Saints’ day[1839]—a proceeding which served him as the pretext for that withdrawal of the seal from William and repudiation of all engagements made under it, which has been mentioned already.[1840] No further movement was however made by either party until the spring. Then the wearisome story of fruitless negotiations alternating with indecisive warfare begins again, and goes on unceasingly for the next four years. Save for an occasional attempt to make a diversion in Berry, the actual fighting between the two kings was confined to the Norman border.[1841] Normandy was the chief object of Philip’s attack, partly no doubt because, owing to its geographical position, he could invade it with more ease and less risk than any other part of Richard’s dominions, but also because it was the key to all the rest. A French conquest of Normandy would sever Richard’s communications not only with Flanders and Germany, but also with England; and the strength of the Angevins in Gaul now rested chiefly upon the support of their island-realm. Neither assailant nor defender, however, was able to gain any decisive advantage in the field. The armed struggle between them was in fact of less importance than the diplomatic rivalry which they carried on side by side with it; and in this, strangely enough, Richard, who had hitherto shewn so little of the far-sighted statecraft and political tact of his race, proved more than a match for his wily antagonist.

That the foes in Richard’s own household should league themselves against him with Philip, as he had done in earlier days against his own father, was, so far as Richard himself is concerned, no more than retributive justice. Philip’s alliance with John had proved a failure; but it was not long before he saw a chance of securing a more useful tool in the person of little Arthur of Britanny. English historians tell us that when Richard and Philip made their treaty at Messina in March 1191 Richard obtained a formal acknowledgement of his rights, as duke of Normandy, to the overlordship of Britanny and the liege homage of its duke.[1842] The text of the treaty of Messina, however, contains not a word on this subject; the agreement, if made at all, must have been drawn up in a separate form; and it seems to have remained a dead letter, like another agreement made at the same place a few months earlier—the treaty with Tancred whereby Richard had engaged to recognize Arthur of Britanny as his successor in default of direct heirs. Although after five years of marriage Queen Berengaria was still childless, no such recognition had yet been made. Richard on his return to Europe probably perceived that Arthur’s succession would be impossible in England, and in Gaul would be fatal to the independence of the Angevin house. Accordingly, he was once more doing all in his power to win the attachment of John; and John, having at length discovered that his own interests could be better served by supporting his brother than by intriguing against him, proved an active and useful ally in the war against Philip.[1843] On the other hand, Richard seems never to have received Arthur’s homage for Britanny; and those who had the control of political affairs in that country were determined that he never should. The dispute between Henry and Philip for the wardship of the two children of Geoffrey and Constance had apparently ended in a compromise. Eleanor, the elder child, was now under the care of her uncle Richard;[1844] but Constance seems to have succeeded in keeping her infant boy out of the reach of both his would-be guardians, and, moreover, in governing her duchy without any reference to either of them, for nearly seven years after the death of her father-in-law King Henry. She had been given in marriage by him, when scarcely twelve months a widow, to Earl Ralf of Chester,[1845] son and successor of Earl Hugh who had been one of the leaders in the revolt of 1173. As the earls of Chester were hereditary viscounts of the Avranchin—the border-district of Normandy and Britanny—this marriage would have furnished an excellent means of securing the Norman hold upon the Breton duchy, if only Ralf himself could have secured a hold upon his wife. In this however he completely failed. Safe in her hereditary dominions, with her boy at her side, and strong in the support of her people rejoicing in their newly-regained independence, Constance apparently set Ralf, Richard and Philip all alike at defiance, till in 1196 Richard summoned her to a conference with himself in Normandy, and she set out to obey the summons. Scarcely had she touched the soil of the Avranchin at Pontorson when she was caught by her husband and imprisoned in his castle of S. James-de-Beuvron.[1846] It is hard not to suspect that Richard and Ralf had plotted the capture between them; for Richard, instead of insisting upon her release, at once renewed his claim to the wardship of Arthur, and prepared to enforce it at the sword’s point. The Bretons first hurried their young duke away to the innermost fastnesses of their wild and desolate country under the care of the bishop of Vannes,[1847] and then, after a vain attempt to liberate his mother, intrusted him to the protection of the king of France,[1848] who of course received him with open arms, and sent him to be educated with his own son.[1849]

Philip had now got the old Angevin patrimony between two fires; but the Bretons were so little accustomed to act in concert even among themselves, far less with any other power, that he found it impossible to make any real use of them as allies either for military or political purposes. The independent warfare which they carried on with Richard across the south-western border of Normandy[1850] had little effect upon that which Richard and Philip were carrying on along its eastern border; and upon the Angevin lands which lay directly between Britanny and France the Breton revolt had no effect at all. To the end of Richard’s life, we hear of no further troubles in Maine or Anjou. Nay more, we hear of no further troubles in Aquitaine. If Philip had in some sense turned Richard’s flank in the west, Richard had turned Philip’s flank far more effectually in the south. The unwonted tranquillity there may indeed have been partly due to the fact that one of the chief sources of disturbance was removed in 1196 by the withdrawal of Bertrand de Born into a monastery;[1851] but it was also in great measure owing to Richard’s quickness in seizing an opportunity which presented itself, in that same eventful year, of forming a lasting alliance with the house of Toulouse. His old enemy Count Raymond V. was dead;[1852] he now offered the hand of his own favourite sister, the still young and handsome Queen Jane of Sicily, to the new Count Raymond VI.;[1853] and thenceforth the eastern frontier of his Aquitanian duchy was as secure under the protection of his sister’s husband as its southern frontier under that of his wife’s brother, the king of Navarre.