His opponents, however, were not rid of him yet. The king was now practically out of reach of his remonstrances and appeals for succour;[1580] but the Pope was not. William was a bishop; and the harshness with which he had been treated enabled him now to pose in his turn as a consecrated victim of profane violence. Celestine III. warmly took up his cause; he distinctly acknowledged him as legate, whether with or without a formal renewal of his commission;[1581] and on December 2 he issued a brief addressed to the English bishops, bidding them excommunicate all who had taken part in William’s deposition, and put their lands under interdict till he should be reinstated.[1582] William, as legate, followed this up by excommunicating twenty-six of his chief enemies by name, with the archbishop of Rouen at their head, and, with the Pope’s sanction, threatening to treat John in like manner, if he did not amend before Quinquagesima.[1583] The bishops, however, took no notice of his letters, and the justiciars retorted by sequestrating his see;[1584] they all held him bound by the sentences pronounced against him at Reading and at London for his persecution of Geoffrey of York, and their view was upheld by the suffragans of Rouen, who all treated him as excommunicate.[1585] Geoffrey was now the highest ecclesiastical authority in England; but he was not the man to rule the English Church. He had more than enough to do in ruling his own chief suffragan. As soon as he was enthroned at York,[1586] he summoned Hugh of Durham to come and make his profession of obedience; Hugh, who having been reinstated in his earldom of Northumberland[1587] felt himself again more than a match for his metropolitan, ignored the summons, whereupon Geoffrey excommunicated him.[1588] This did not deter John from keeping Christmas at Howden with the bishop; in consequence of which John himself was for a while treated as excommunicate by his half-brother.[1589] The momentary coalition, formed solely to crush the chancellor, had in fact already split into fragments. The general administration, however, went on satisfactorily under the new justiciar’s direction, and his influence alone—for Eleanor was still on the continent[1590]—sufficed to keep John out of mischief throughout the winter.

Richard’s continental dominions had thus far been at peace—a peace doubly secured by the presence of Eleanor and the absence of Philip of France. Shortly before Christmas 1191, however, Philip returned to his kingdom.[1591] In January 1192 he called the seneschal and barons of Normandy to a conference, and demanded from them, on the strength of a document which he shewed to them as the treaty made between himself and Richard at Messina, the restitution of his sister Adela and her dower-castles in the Vexin, as well as the counties of Eu and Aumale. The seneschal, rightly suspecting the paper to be a forgery, answered that he had no instructions from Richard on the subject, and would give up neither the lands nor the lady.[1592] Philip threatened war, and all Richard’s constables prepared for defence.[1593] Meanwhile, Philip offered to John the investiture of all Richard’s continental dominions, if he would accept Adela’s hand with them.[1594] That John had a wife already was an obstacle which troubled neither the French king nor John himself. He was quite ready to accept the offer; but meanwhile it reached his mother’s ears, and she hurried to England to stop him.[1595] Landing at Portsmouth on Quinquagesima Sunday,[1596] she found him on the point of embarking; the archbishop of Rouen and the other justiciars gladly welcomed her back to her former post of regent, and joined with her in forbidding John to leave the country, under penalty of having all his estates seized in the king’s name.[1597] They then held a series of councils, at Windsor, Oxford, London and Winchester;[1598] in that of London the barons renewed their oath of fealty to the king, but to pacify John they were obliged to do the like to him as heir,[1599] and the immediate consequence was that he persuaded the constables of Windsor and Wallingford to surrender their castles into his hands.[1600] William of Longchamp thought his opportunity had come. He managed to gain Eleanor’s ear and to bribe John;[1601] both connived at his return to Dover, and thence he sent up his demand for restoration to a council gathered in London towards the close of Lent.[1602] It seems plain that he had won the favour of the queen; for the justiciars, whose original purpose in meeting had been to discuss the misdoings of John, now saw themselves obliged to fetch John himself from Wallingford to support them, as they expected, in their resistance to the chancellor’s demands. To their dismay John told them plainly that he was on the point of making alliance with his old enemy for a consideration of seven hundred pounds.[1603] They saw that their only chance was to outbid William. They gave John two thousand marks out of the royal treasury;[1604] Walter of Rouen helped to persuade the queen-mother,[1605] and the chancellor was bidden to depart out of the land.[1606]

Shortly afterwards, two cardinal-legates arrived in France to settle his dispute with the archbishop of Rouen. When they attempted to enter Normandy, the seneschal refused them admittance and shut the gates of Gisors in their faces, pleading that the subjects of an English king were forbidden by ancient custom to admit legates into any part of his dominions without his consent. The legates on this excommunicated the seneschal and laid all Normandy under interdict.[1607] William had done the same to his own diocese before leaving England.[1608] Archbishop Walter, the English justiciars, even the queen-mother, were all at their wits’ end: Philip was openly threatening to invade the Norman duchy; the obstacle which had prevented him until now—the unwillingness of the French barons to attack the territories of a crusader[1609]—would be considerably lessened by the interdict; the only person who could be found in England capable of undertaking a negotiation with the legates was Hugh of Durham; but Hugh declined to go till his own quarrel with his metropolitan was settled,[1610] and this was not accomplished till the middle of October.[1611] Then indeed he went to France, and succeeded in obtaining the removal of the interdict.[1612] But in other quarters the prospect grew no brighter. Aquitaine, held in check for a while by the presence of its duchess, had risen as soon as she was out of reach. Count Ademar of Angoulême marched into Poitou with a large body of horse and foot; taken prisoner by the Poitevins, he appealed to the French king for deliverance.[1613] A revolt of the Gascon barons was with difficulty suppressed by the seneschal, assisted by young Sancho of Navarre,[1614] brother of Richard’s queen; and the victors rashly followed up their success by a raid upon Toulouse, which, though it went unpunished for the moment, could only lead to further mischief.[1615] In England John was still defying the justiciars; and they dared not proceed to extremities with him, for they now saw before them an imminent prospect of having to acknowledge him as their king.

Richard’s adventures in the East lie outside the sphere of English history. The crusade of which he was the chief hero and leader had indirectly an important effect upon English social life; but it was in no sense a national undertaking; every man in the host was, like the king himself, simply a volunteer, not sent out by his country or representing it in any way. Richard’s glory is all his own; to us, the practical interest of the crusade in which he won it consists in the light which it throws upon his character, and on his political relations with the other princes who took part in the enterprise. The story, as it comes out bit by bit, oddly intermingled with the dry details of home affairs, in the English historians of the time, and as it is told at full length in the “Itinerary” composed by one of his fellow-crusaders, reads more like an old wiking-saga than a piece of sober history, and its hero looks more like a comrade of S. Olaf or Harald Hardrada than a contemporary of Philip Augustus. Nothing indeed except Richard’s northman-blood can account for the intense love of the sea, and the consummate seamanship, as sound and practical as it was brilliant and daring, which he displayed on his outward voyage. No sea-king of old ever guided his little squadron of “long keels” more boldly, more skilfully and more successfully through a more overwhelming succession of difficulties and perils than those through which Richard guided his large and splendid fleet on its way from Messina to Acre.[1616] Not one had ever made a conquest at once as rapid, as valuable and as complete as the conquest of Cyprus, which Richard made in a few days, as a mere episode in his voyage, in vengeance for the ill-treatment which some of his ship-wrecked sailors had met with at the hands of the Cypriots and their king.[1617] But it was a mere wiking-conquest; Richard never dreamed of permanently adding this remote island to the list of his dominions; within a few months he sold it to the Templars,[1618] and afterwards, as they failed to take possession, he made it over to the dethroned king of Jerusalem who had helped him to conquer it, Guy of Lusignan.[1619] The same love of adventure for its own sake colours many of his exploits in the Holy Land itself. But there we learn, too, that his character had yet another and a higher aspect. We find in him, side by side with the reckless northern valour, the northern endurance, patience and self-restraint, coupled with a real disinterestedness and a self-sacrificing generosity for which it would be somewhat hard to find a parallel among his forefathers on either side.[1620] Alike in a military, a political and a moral point of view, Richard is the only one among the leaders of the crusading host, except Guy, who comes out of the ordeal with a character not merely unstained, but shining with redoubled lustre. And this alone would almost account for the fact that, before they separated, nearly every one of them, save Guy, had become Richard’s open or secret foe.

Envy of a better man than themselves was however not the sole cause of their hostility. The office of commander-in-chief of the host fell to Richard’s share in consequence of a catastrophe which altered the whole balance of political parties in Europe. That office had been destined for the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, who for more than thirty years had stood as high above all other Christian princes in political capacity, military prowess, and personal nobility of character, as in titular dignity and territorial power. Frederic set out for Palestine as early as May 1189;[1621] he fought his way through the treacheries of the Greek Emperor and the ambushes of the Turkish sultan of Iconium, only to be drowned in crossing a little river in Asia Minor on June 10, 1190.[1622] These tidings probably met Richard on his arrival at Messina in September. There he had to deal with the consequences of another death which had occurred in the previous November, that of his brother-in-law King William of Sicily.[1623] William was childless; after a vain attempt to induce his father-in-law Henry II. to accept the reversion of his crown,[1624] he had bequeathed it to his own young aunt Constance, who was married to Henry of Germany, the Emperor’s eldest son.[1625] It was, however, seized by Tancred, a cousin of the late king.[1626] Richard’s alliance with Tancred, though on the one hand absolutely necessary to secure the co-operation of Sicily for the crusade, was thus on the other a mortal offence to the new king of Germany, who moreover had already a grudge against England upon another ground:—Henry the Lion had in this very summer extorted from him almost at the sword’s point his restoration to his forfeited estates.[1627] Thus when Richard at last reached Acre in June 1191,[1628] he was already in ill odour with the leaders of the German contingent, the Emperor’s brother Duke Frederic of Suabia and his cousin Duke Leopold of Austria.