For military and political reasons alike Philip did not want to fight with Richard. He knew that Richard would be compelled ere long to make a friend of him, for nothing but his friendship could enable Richard to secure his rights as Henry’s heir; and Richard himself now saw that until those rights were secured it was impossible for him to venture on leaving Europe. He therefore resolved on bringing matters to a crisis. At his suggestion the two kings arranged to meet again on November 18 at Bonmoulins.[307] Meanwhile, as an English writer says, he “was reconciled to” Philip—which probably means that he made, and Philip accepted, an apology for what had occurred at Châtillon—and “endeavoured to soften the mind of the French king, that in him he might find at least some solace if his own father should altogether fail him.”[308] Accordingly he had a private interview with Philip before the formal conference, and went to the place of meeting in his company, “for the sake,” so he told his father, “of concord and peace.”[309] Philip opened the colloquy with a proposal that all the results of the fighting since a certain event—which is stated as “the taking of the Cross,” but seems to have been really the agreement at Gisors on March 10, 1186—should be wiped out, he himself setting the example of restitution, “and after this, all things should continue as they were before” the specified date. This Richard opposed; “it seemed to him unmeet that he should by the acceptance of these terms be compelled to restore Cahors and its whole county, and many other places forming part of his domain, which were worth a thousand marks a year or more, in exchange for Châteauroux and Issoudun and Graçay which were not ducal domains, but merely underfiefs.”[310] Philip’s proposal and Richard’s answer may have 1188 been arranged between them beforehand, and may have been merely intended to prepare the way for the introduction of the crucial question which Richard was determined to bring, with Philip’s help, to a decisive issue once for all. He now asked his father for an explicit recognition, to be confirmed by an oath, of his rights as heir. Furthermore, as such a recognition would, so far as Henry’s continental territories were concerned, be ineffectual without Philip’s sanction as overlord, and as it was now clearly understood that Philip’s sanction depended on the marriage of Aloysia, her hitherto reluctant bridegroom at last made up his mind to the sacrifice and asked his father to give him at once the bride who was lawfully his, “and the kingdom”—that is, the assurance of succession to the Crown. In these requests he was supported by Philip.[311] Henry answered “that he 1188 would on no account do this in existing circumstances, since he would appear to be acting under constraint rather than of his own free will.”[312] Richard persisted in his entreaties, but in vain. At last he exclaimed: “Now what I hitherto could not believe looks to me like truth.” Ungirding his sword, he turned to the French king and, “imploring his aid that he might not be deprived of his due rights,” did homage to him[313] as his “man” for the whole continental dominions of the Angevin house and swore fealty to him against all men, saving Henry’s right of tenure for life and the fidelity due from son to father.[314] Philip responded by promising that Châteauroux, Issoudun, and all the other castles, lands, and fiefs which he had taken from Henry in former wars should be restored to Richard.[315] Henry was, it seems, too thunderstruck to say or do anything except consent without more ado to a truce with Philip till S. Hilary’s day.[316]
“Thus began the quarrel that never was fought out,”[317] says a contemporary poet of the fateful conference at Bonmoulins. The meeting had been held, according to custom, in the open air and in public, the two kings and Richard, with the Archbishop of Reims, standing in the middle of a wide and dense circle of their followers and other spectators. To some of these the symbolical action which accompanied homage must have been visible; and when the central group broke up and father, son, and lord paramount were seen to move away, each in a different direction, “all men marvelled.”[318] Richard’s homage to Philip was an act of filial undutifulness, since it was done in opposition to the known wishes of his father; but it involved no further breach of duty, if he really intended—and there 1188 is nothing to show that he did not, at that time, intend—to abide by the saving clause which reserved his father’s rights. Fairly interpreted with that clause, the homage would be merely prospective in its effect; and some prospective measure of this kind had been made almost necessary as a matter of self-protection on Richard’s part, by the conduct of both Henry and Philip. We cannot tell precisely to what it was that Richard alluded in the words which he spoke immediately before the homage; but it can only have been one, or both, of two things: the sinister rumours about Henry and Aloysia, and the suggestion that Henry aimed at making John his heir instead of Richard. As to the truth or falsehood of the former charge against Henry we have no means of judging; but of the truth of the latter charge it is impossible to doubt. The anathema said to have been pronounced by the Legate Henry of Albano against Richard as a disturber of the peace which the pope was anxious to secure for the furtherance of the Crusade[319] might have fallen more justly upon Richard’s father; perhaps, too, not less justly upon their overlord.
Richard had no sooner set out for Poitou than his father sent messengers to recall him; but it was too late.[320] Either for the same purpose, or to secure, if possible, some of the fortresses of Aquitaine,[321] Henry himself went as far south as Le Dorat in La Marche; there, however, he “did nothing”;[322] and indeed nothing could be done till the truce expired. It had been agreed at Bonmoulins that the two kings should 1189 then, on January 13 (1189) meet again to discuss terms for a lasting peace. When the time came, Henry on the plea of illness postponed the meeting, first till Candlemas, and then till after Easter.[323] This was too much for the patience of either Philip or Richard. Philip, it is said, had already promised that he would assist Richard in any attempt to gain possession of Henry’s continental dominions.[324] Accordingly, after the expiration of the truce he and Richard 1189 made a joint raid across Henry’s borders.[325] Henry in alarm sent the Archbishop of Canterbury to confer with Richard; but Richard had now come to regard with distrust every messenger and every message from his father, and curtly refused to give Baldwin an audience.[326] His confidence in Philip was—justly enough—not much greater; when Henry sought to renew negotiations with France, his envoys found Richard’s chancellor, William of Longchamp, at the French king’s side, placed there on purpose to prevent any betrayal by Philip of the interests of the count of Poitou; and William’s diplomacy proved more than a match for theirs.[327] After Easter the long delayed meeting of the kings took place at La Ferté-Bernard;[328] this was followed during the next five or six weeks by several conferences between Henry and Richard, “but it was all lost labour.”[329] Another legate, John of Anagni, was now endeavouring to reconcile the kings,[330] and had succeeded in obtaining from both of them an undertaking to stand to his judgement and that of four archbishops, two from Philip’s realm and two from Henry’s.[331] Accordingly, in Whitsun week Henry, Philip, Richard, the legate, and the four assistant arbitrators all met together near La Ferté-Bernard.[332] Philip set forth his demands for himself and for Richard: that Aloysia should be given to Richard to wife, that some security should be granted to Richard for his succession to the kingdom of England after his father’s death, and that John should take the Cross and join the Crusade;[333] if these conditions were granted, Philip offered to restore all that he had taken from Henry during the current year and the preceding one.[334] Richard made 1189 the same demands in his own behalf, “saying that he himself would in no wise go to Jerusalem unless John went with him.”[335] The suspicion which had evidently prompted these demands was amply justified by Henry’s reply. He “said that he would never do this; but he offered, if the French king would consent, to give Aloysia with all the things aforesaid, more fully and completely than Philip asked”—not to Richard, but to John.[336] The writer who reports this offer of Henry’s does not explicitly mention security for Richard’s succession to the English Crown as one of the conditions demanded by Philip and Richard; he says they asked Henry to “cause the men of his lands to swear fealty to Richard.”[337] Even if the lands here meant were only the English king’s continental territories, Henry in refusing to do any of the things asked of him for Richard and proposing to do all and more than all of them for John was clearly proposing nothing less than a complete disinheritance, so far at least as those territories were concerned, of the elder brother in favour of the younger one. What Richard had suspected and feared, what Philip had, to some extent at least, known to be in Henry’s mind ever since the truce of Châteauroux, if not earlier still, was thus confirmed by Henry’s own lips. Philip had doubtless indirectly encouraged Henry in this insane project, so long as it suited his own interest to play off the father and the elder son one against the other; but he was far too practical to have ever intended giving it his serious support; and he now at once refused to sanction it.[338] He seems to have expected, reasonably enough, that the legate would uphold him in his refusal; but instead of this, John of Anagni threatened to lay all France under Interdict if its king did not come to a full agreement with the king of England. Philip retorted that he did not fear, and would not heed, a sentence without basis in either equity or law, and that the legate had been bribed with English gold. The meeting broke up in hopeless discord.[339]
If ever a father set at nought the precept “Provoke not 1189 your children to wrath,” Henry had done so by his conduct towards Richard, not merely on one or two isolated occasions, but persistently through a course of years. And if any circumstances are conceivable in which a son might be, not indeed justified, but in some degree excused for taking forcible measures against his father, in such a case Richard stood now. Neither he nor Philip could possibly acquiesce in the scheme which Henry had just proposed; and it was clear that Henry would not be induced to renounce that scheme by any persuasion, nor even by intimidation unless it were something more than verbal. Both parties had come to the conference “with horses and arms,”[340] and the main body of Henry’s available forces was quartered in and around Le Mans. While he rode slowly back towards that city, Philip attacked the castle of La Ferté; its constable made a brave defence, but was obliged to surrender. Philip then advanced to Ballon, which he reached just after Henry had quitted it, and at once “took it, no man gainsaying him.”[341] In a few days most of the castles around Le Mans on the north and east—Bonnétable, Beaumont, Montfort—were likewise occupied by his troops. But it was not to him that they had surrendered. Richard was with him; and the castellans “all round about” showed their disapproval of Henry’s scheme for altering the Angevin succession by voluntarily delivering up their castles to the count of Poitou.[342]
On June 12 the allies surprised Le Mans; their troops forced an entrance into the lower town, the fire kindled to keep them out of the city set it ablaze, and Henry fled.[343] There was a hot pursuit; Richard was among the foremost, but it seems that he had taken no part in the assault, and now only wished to prevent by his presence any personal violence to his father, for he was clad only in a doublet and an iron headpiece and carried no arms at all. Some of his men, however, outstripped him, and before he could overtake them were skirmishing with Henry’s rearguard, one of whom, William des Roches, had just unhorsed a knight of Richard’s household when the count came spurring up and shouted: “William! you waste time in folly; mend your speed, ride on!” At the sound of that voice another of the little band covering the king’s retreat turned round and spurred his horse straight at Richard, and the heir of the Angevin empire suddenly found his life at the mercy of one who was already known as the most accomplished warrior of his day, William the Marshal. So close was the encounter that Richard caught hold of his assailant’s lance and by sheer strength of arm turned it aside, shouting: “By God’s Feet, Marshal, slay me not! it were an ill deed, for I am wholly unarmed.” But the thrust had not been meant for him, and its aim was only momentarily diverted. “Nay! may the devil slay you, for so will not I,” answered the Marshal as he recovered control of his weapon and plunged it into the body of Richard’s horse.[344] The animal instantly fell dead, dragging its rider with it to the ground; knights and men-at-arms crowded anxiously to the spot, and when Richard had struggled to his feet he bade them proceed no further—“You have spoiled everything; you are a set of distracted fools!”[345]
Three weeks later father and son met once more, and for the last time. From Le Mans the allies moved eastward 1189 along the borders of Maine and the Vendômois, and thence into Touraine as far as Amboise; castle after castle surrendering to them without resistance. Henry had at first gone northward, but changed his course, and while they were thus occupied he made his way back, with a very small escort, to Chinon.[346] Negotiations were resumed; but the French king now saw his opportunity for an unparalleled display of his sovereign authority as lord paramount, and he resolved to be satisfied with nothing less than a surrender of the whole continental possessions of the Angevin house into his hands, to be restored or re-distributed at his own pleasure.[347] On July 1 he laid siege to Tours; on July 3 he took it by assault. Next day (July 4), at Colombières, Henry made the required surrender.[348] This done, Philip formally made him a new grant of the surrendered lands and received his homage for them on new conditions. One of these conditions was for the sole benefit of Philip; it was a fine of twenty thousand marks to be paid to him by Henry. The others concerned Richard. One related to Aloysia; another bound Henry to make all his barons, insular and continental, swear fealty to his rightful heir. No baron or knight who in this war had withdrawn from Henry’s service and joined Richard was to return to the former within a month of Mid-Lent next, at which date the two kings and Richard were to set out all together on the Crusade. All Henry’s barons were to swear that if he broke his plighted word with regard to anything in the agreement they would support Philip and Richard against him; and it seems that Philip and Richard, while restoring all their other conquests, were to retain either Tours, Le Mans, and the castles of Château-du-Loir and Trou, or Gisors, Pacy, and Nonancourt, “until all the things above determined by the king of France should be fulfilled.”[349]
The meeting between the two kings at which this extraordinary arrangement took place was held in the open air. So far as we can gather, Richard was either a silent spectator or was not actually present, though he was certainly close at hand. After its conclusion he went to his father’s lodging in the house of the Knights Templars at Ballan, hard by Colombières,[350] to receive, according to agreement, the kiss of peace. He did receive it, but as he turned to depart he heard his father mutter: “The Lord grant that I may not die till I have had my revenge of thee!”[351] The words were the half delirious utterance of a sick man whose brain was on fire with fever and, still more, with shame at the public degradation he had just gone through, and with disappointment at the failure of his most cherished scheme; although the worst detail connected with that failure did not become known to him till some hours later, when he received the list of the followers who had deserted him. Then he learned that John had anticipated the issue of the struggle and secured for himself the protection of the party whose success he saw to be a foregone conclusion, by pledging his allegiance to Richard.[352]
The triumph of Philip Augustus was for the moment complete. He had successfully asserted and exercised his sovereign authority over the greatest of his vassals, the vassal who was, no less than himself, a crowned and anointed king, and whose lands comprised, besides the island realm, more than two-thirds of the realm of France. The succession to all those lands, including England, had been, or seemed to have been, determined at Philip’s bidding. He was, or seemed to be, master of both Henry and Richard. But his triumph was only momentary. Within three days the convention of Colombières was a mere piece of waste parchment, for Henry of England was dead.