Richard’s next task was to recover control of Aquitaine. He had in 1190 left that country to the joint care of its duchess and of a tried serjeant-at-arms, Peter Bertin, whom he had early in that year made seneschal of Poitou.[1164] In or about 1192, Eleanor being no longer in the duchy, Aimar of Angoulême attacked Poitou “with horse and foot,” but was defeated and taken prisoner by the Poitevins.[1165] About the same time nearly all the barons of Gascony took advantage of the illness of the seneschal of that county to rise in rebellion under the leadership of Count Elias of c. 1192 Périgord[1166] and the viscount of La Marche. The seneschal tried in vain to make terms with them; on recovering his health, however, he attacked Périgord, captured or destroyed nearly all the fortresses of its count, and then dealt in like manner with La Marche, “which he thus brought once for all under the control of the king.” Sancho of Navarre then joined him with eight hundred knights, and their united forces harried the county of Toulouse up to the very gates of its capital city, and spent a night almost under its walls before they went their several ways home.[1167] After 1194 March this Aquitaine seems to have been comparatively quiet till March 1194, when the old arch-troubler of the land, Geoffrey of Rancogne, threw off his allegiance and with June Bernard of Brosse did liege homage to Philip.[1168] In June 1194 Sancho, on his way to join Richard before Loches, led his men through the lands of Rancogne and Angoulême and ravaged them “from one end to the other.”[1169] All this timely help from Navarre resulted in making Richard’s march into Aquitaine after the affair of Fréteval a progress of unbroken triumph. On July 22 the king wrote to his justiciar in England that he had captured Taillebourg, Marcillac, “all the castles and all the land” of Geoffrey of Rancogne, the city and suburb of Angoulême—“which we took in one evening”—and all the castles and lands of its count, with some three hundred knights and forty thousand men-at-arms.[1170] From Verneuil to “Charles’s Cross” he was master once more.[1171]
Negotiations for a truce with France were now again in progress. On July 23 some officers of the two royal households met, by mutual consent of their sovereigns, between Verneuil and Tillières to treat of this matter, and “came to terms.” The only extant account of these terms—a proclamation addressed by the French king’s constable and chamberlain and the dean of S. Martin’s “to all whom it may concern”[1172]—shows them to have been extremely favourable to Philip; and from this fact, together with Richard’s subsequent action, we may probably infer that their acceptance by the English negotiators was merely a blind to restrain Philip from aggression in Normandy while Richard was still occupied in the south. When he returned to Normandy he, according to a contemporary English writer, repudiated them indignantly, and took away the Great Seal from his chancellor, on whom he cast the responsibility for them.[1173] The king’s wrath and the chancellor’s disgrace were, however, alike only momentary; William of Ely retained his office to the end of Richard’s reign; and a month after the conference at which the truce had been arranged Richard himself was sojourning peaceably 1194 within the Royal Domain of France, issuing an ordinance to his subjects in England from Bresle near Beauvais.[1174]
The duration of the truce had been defined as “a year from All Saints’ Day next.”[1175] During this breathing-space Richard’s chief concern was the collecting of money for a renewal of the war. England had been so drained for his ransom that he, or his justiciar who acted for him, did not venture on demanding a “scutage of Normandy” till the following year (1195).[1176] Nor did the king attempt to carry out at this time—if indeed he had momentarily entertained it—the project ascribed to him by Roger of Howden, of annulling all grants made under the existing Great Seal, of course for the purpose of compelling their holders to pay for a renewal of them.[1177] But on his way northward from Aquitaine he had called together at Le Mans “all the magnates under his jurisdiction,” and made them a speech in commendation of the “willing, unbroken, and well-proved fidelity shewn to him by the English in his time of adversity,”[1178] seemingly in contrast to the feeble support which he had received from his Angevin dominions; for we are told that he compelled all his bailiffs in Anjou and Maine to pay him a fine for retaining their offices.[1179] The device which he actually employed at this juncture for obtaining more money from England, though it sowed the seeds of later mischief there, was not likely to provoke discontent nor to inflict any hardship on the people; on August 22 he issued an ordinance authorizing the holding of tournaments in England—from which they had hitherto been rigidly excluded—at certain specified places, on condition that every man who took part in them should make a certain payment to the Crown for a licence, the sum payable being regulated by the rank of the payer.[1180] The Church’s prohibition of tournaments had been renewed in a specially 1194 severe form only a year before; but on the continent it still was, as it always had been, set at defiance. Richard, who had spent the greater part of his life in lands where the mimic warfare of the tourney was regarded almost as part of the necessary education of a gentleman, could not fairly be expected to realize its evil side, and might well count upon its finding among the nobles and knights of his island realm such favour as would make the sale of licences a profitable business for the Crown.
1195
Early in the next year a certain hermit came to the king and said: “Be mindful of the ruin of Sodom, and put away thy unlawful doings; else the vengeance of God will come upon thee.” Five years before, Richard had publicly confessed and done penance for his private sins, seemingly without being urged by anyone. Now he was in a different mood; he resented the admonition as coming from a person of no importance, and could not make up his mind to obey it unless it were enforced by a sign from above. The sign April 4 came on Easter Tuesday when he was struck down by a violent illness. Then he called the clergy around him, confessed and did penance for his sins, and at once set about the amendment of his private life by recalling his wife, whom he had for a long time practically deserted. “Then,” says the chronicler, “God gave him health of body as well as of soul.” He began a practice of rising early to attend Mass “and not leaving the church till the Divine Office was completely ended.”[1181] A famine had for three years past been gradually spreading over western Europe[1182] April and had now reached Normandy; Richard caused a number of poor persons to be fed daily at his court and in the cities, towns, and villages, and multiplied these benefactions as the need increased. He also ordered the making of a large number of chalices for presentation to churches which had sacrificed their holy vessels for his ransom.[1183]
1194
Nov.-Dec.
During the past five months the truce had been very ill kept. In less than two months from its commencement 1194 the homagers of both kings were ravaging each other’s lands,[1184] and Philip proposed to Richard a new expedient for ending their strife: a judicial combat between picked champions, five on either side, to take place in public, “so that the issue should make manifest to the people of both realms what was the mind of the Eternal King as to the rights of the two earthly sovereigns.” This scheme “pleased the king of England greatly, provided that each of the kings should be one of the five combatants on his own side and that they should fight each other on equal terms, armed and equipped alike”[1185]—whereupon the project fell to the ground. According to one English chronicler of the time, the next step taken by some of Richard’s enemies seems to have been an attempt to assassinate him. While he was staying at Chinon, early in 1195, there came to his court certain “Accini”—that is, “Assassins,” followers of “the Old Man of the Mountain”—or persons calling themselves such, to the number of fifteen. Some of them, seeking to approach the king’s person too closely, were arrested, and then stated that the king of France had sent them to kill his rival. Richard delayed passing sentence on them till their companions, who appear to have meanwhile made their escape, should be captured; of the part which they ascribed to Philip in the matter he took no notice.[1186] There the story abruptly ends. Whether these men were really “Assassins” in either sense of the word—whether, if so, they acted on orders from the “Old Man,” or from someone else, or on their own initiative, or what their motives or those of their instigator may have been—there is nothing to show. Their alleged charge against Philip, at any rate, can hardly deserve more consideration from history than it received from Richard.
At the end of June or early in July Richard received from the Emperor a present of “a great golden crown, very precious, as a token of their mutual friendship.” The gift was accompanied by a letter or message, bidding him “by 1194 the fealty which he owed to Henry, and as he cared for his hostages, to invade the French king’s land with an armed force,” and promising that Henry “would send him help sufficient to avenge the injuries done by Philip to both of them.” Richard knew the Emperor too well to be tempted into acting hastily on this mandate. He was aware that Henry “desired above all things to bring the kingdom of France under subjection to the Roman Empire,” and he had no mind to become the cat’s paw in a plot which might result in uniting the forces of Germany and France for his own ruin. He therefore sent his trusty chancellor, Bishop William of Ely, to inquire of the Emperor “in what manner, how much, and where and when” Henry would help him against the French king. Philip, hearing that the bishop was to pass through France, tried to intercept him, but failed, and thereupon sent word July to Richard that the truce was at an end.[1187]
At this moment Christendom suddenly found itself threatened by an urgent peril. The emperor of Morocco, “taking occasion by the dissension between the French and English kings,” invaded Spain, marched into Castille, July 18 defeated its king Alfonso in a great battle, and besieged him in Toledo. The danger to southern Gaul was near enough to alarm both Richard and Philip; and before the end of July they had another conference, at which Richard restored Aloysia to her brother, and a treaty of peace was drawn up.[1188] The draft was, however, fated to be nothing more than a draft. The meeting was held near Vaudreuil, which for the period of the truce had been left in Philip’s hands. The two kings, each with a body of armed followers, seem to have encamped on opposite banks of the river which flows through the valley whence the place took its name. While discussion was in progress Philip, fearing an attack on the fortress, caused its walls to be secretly undermined. Suddenly a part of them fell down. Richard instantly denounced the truce as ended on his side, and with his men dashed across the stream into the 1194 French camp. Philip, anticipating this movement, had already arrayed his followers and was leading them towards the nearest bridge over the Seine, when (according to one account) it broke down, and he and they narrowly escaped drowning. Richard was this time wise enough not to End
July attempt pursuit, and contented himself with capturing some of Philip’s servants who had been left behind in the hasty retreat, and setting to work immediately on the restoration of the recovered fortress[1189] and on preparations for a renewal of hostilities. He was, however, not inclined to begin these last till he had received more definite information from Germany; so another treaty was drafted on September 23, between Issoudun and Charroux,[1190] to be ratified by the two kings on November 8 at Verneuil. Before that date William of Ely returned from Germany, bringing word that the Emperor disapproved of the proposed terms, and was willing to quit-claim to Richard seventeen thousand marks of his ransom, to enable him to recover the territory which he had lost through his imprisonment.[1191] Nevertheless, Nov. 8 Richard went to Verneuil at the appointed date. On his way he was met by the archbishop of Reims with a message purporting to come from Philip, bidding him not to hurry, as the king of France was still engaged in consultation with his ministers. Richard withdrew to his Nov. 9 own quarters and stayed there till the following afternoon; then, resolved to wait no longer, he went to Philip’s quarters and demanded an interview. He was admitted into Philip’s presence, but the bishop of Beauvais spoke for his sovereign: “Our lord the King of France accuses thee of broken faith and perjury, in as much as thou didst plight thy word and swear to come to a conference with him this morning at the third hour, and didst not come; and therefore he defies thee.” Both kings hastened back into their own territories.[1192] Within two days Richard was laying 1194 siege to Arques,[1193] and Philip burning Dieppe.[1194] Richard seems to have quitted his siege for the purpose of trying to intercept the French king on the way back to Paris; but he only succeeded in overtaking a few men of the French rearguard.[1195] He appears to have spent the next few weeks in restoring Vaudreuil.[1196]
While these things were happening in northern Gaul, Mercadier, at the head of his Brabantines, made a dash for Issoudun, destroyed its suburbs, captured the castle, and garrisoned it for Richard.[1197] Thence the mercenaries spread themselves over Berry, and crowned their successes by capturing the count of Auvergne and thus gaining possession of his castles.[1198] Philip, however, proceeded against them in person, recaptured the town of Issoudun, and fired the castle. He thought Richard was too intent on restoring the defences of Normandy to pursue him; but no sooner did the tidings reach Vaudreuil than Richard, “casting all other business aside,” achieved in one day what was reckoned a three days’ ride, and appeared before Issoudun so unexpectedly that he had no difficulty in entering the town.[1199] Reinforcements came up rapidly, and the French, seeing themselves outnumbered, urged their sovereign to make overtures for peace. Richard had arrayed his men for battle and placed himself, as usual, Dec. 5 at their head. Philip rode forward to meet him, and the two kings, on horseback and in armour, parleyed alone together while their followers stood around awaiting the result. At last they were seen to dismount, bare their heads, and exchange the kiss of peace.[1200] According to Philip’s biographer, Richard there and then renewed his homage to Philip.[1201] At any rate, the colloquy ended in an 1194 appointment for another meeting, to take place at Louviers (or as Rigord expresses it, “between Vaudreuil and Gaillon”) on the octave of Epiphany, to make a “final” peace.[1202]