1183.

and ambitious spirits of his sons, who, not contented with rebelling against their father, now warmly prosecuted their enmities against each other. Richard, whom Henry had made master of Gui- A. D. enne, and who had already displayed great marks of valour in humbling his mutinous barons, refused to obey his father's orders in doing homage to his elder brother for that duchy. Young Henry and Geoffrey, uniting their arms, carried war into their brother's dominions; and while the king was endeavouring to compose their differences, he found himself secretly conspired against by all. What the result of this conspiracy might be, is uncertain; for it was defeated by the death of young Henry, who died in the twenty-eighth year of his age, of a fever, at Martel, not without the deepest remorse for his undutiful conduct towards his father.

As this prince left no posterity, Richard was become heir in his room; and he soon discovered the same ardent ambition that had misled his elder brother. He refused to obey his father's commands in giving up Guienne, of which he had been put in possession; and even made preparations to attack his brother Geoffrey, who was possessed of Bretagne. No sooner was this breach made up, at the intercession of the queen, than Geoffrey broke out into violence, and demanded Anjou to be annexed to his dominions of Bretagne. This being refused him, he followed the old undutiful method of procuring redress, fled to the court of France, and prepared to levy an army against his father.

A. D.

1186.

Henry was freed from the danger that threatened him on that quarter, by the death of his son, who was killed in a tournament at Paris. The loss of this prince gave few, except the king himself, any uneasiness, as he was universally hated, and went among the people under the opprobrious name of the Child of Perdition.

But the death of the prince did not wholly remove the cause of his revolt; for Philip Augustus, king of France, disputed his title to the wardship of Arthur, the son of Geoffrey, who was now become duke of Bretagne, upon the death of his father. Some other causes of dissension inflamed the dispute between the two monarchs. Philip had once more debauched Richard from his duty; insisted upon his marriage being completed with Adelais, the sister of Philip; and threatened to inforce his pretensions by a formidable invasion. In In consequence of this claim, another conference was A. D. held between Gisors and Trie, the usual place of meeting, under a vast elm, that is said to have shaded more than an acre. It was in the midst of this conference upon their mutual rights, that a new object of interest was offered to their deliberation, and that quickly bore down all secular considerations before it. The archbishop of Tyre appeared before the assembly in the most miserable habit, and with looks calculated to inspire compassion. He had come from the Holy Land, and had seen the oppressions of the Christians, who were appointed to defend the Holy Sepulchre, and was a witness of the triumph of the infidels. He painted the dis

1188.

tresses of those champions of the cross in the most pathetic manner; he deplored their bravery and their misfortunes. The Christians, about a century before, had attacked and taken Jerusalem; but the Saracens recovered courage after the first torrent of success was past, and being every day re-enforced by fresh supplies, at last conquered by perseverance a band of warriors, who, in common, preferring celibacy to marriage, had not multiplied in the ordinary methods of population. The holy city itself was soon retaken by the victorious arms of Saladin; and all Palestine, except a few maritime towns, was subdued. Nothing now remained of those boasted conquests that had raised the glory, and inflamed the zeal, of the western world; and nothing was to be seen, of what nearly a century before had employed the efforts of all the noblest spirits of Europe to acquire. The western Christians were astonished at receiving this dismal intelligence; the whole audience burst into tears; the two kings laid aside their animosity, and agreed to convert their whole attention to the rescue of Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels. They instantly took the cross; many of their most considerable vassals imitated their example; and as the emperor Frederic I. entered into the same confederacy, it was universally expected that nothing could resist their united endeavours. But it was the fate of Henry to be crossed in his most darling pursuits by his undutiful and ungrateful children.

Richard, who had long wished to have all the glory of such an expedition to himself, and who could not bear to have even his father a partner in his victories, entered into a confederacy with the king of France, who promised to confirm him in those wishes at which he so ardently aspired. He therefore began by making an inroad into the territories of the count of Thoulouse, a vassal of the king of France; and this monarch, in order to retaliate, carried war into the provinces of Berri and Auvergne. Henry, who was apprised of their secret confederacy, nevertheless attempted to make depredations in turn upon the dominions of the French king. Conferences were proposed, attended, and dismissed. At length, Henry found himself obliged to give up all hopes of taking the cross, and compelled to enter upon a war with France, and his eldest son, who were unnaturally leagued against him. He now saw the confederacy daily gaining ground. Ferté-Bernard fell first into the hands A. D. of the enemy; Mans was next taken by assault; Amboise, 1189. Chaumont, and Château de Loire, opened their gates upon the enemy's appearance; Tours was invested; and the king, who had retired to Saumur, and had daily instances of the cowardice and infidelity of his governors, expected the most dismal issue of all his enterprises. While he was in this state of despondency, the duke of Burgundy, the count of Flanders, and archbishop of Rheims, interposed their good offices; and at last a treaty was concluded, in which he submitted to many mortifying concessions. It was agreed that Richard should marry the princess Adelais, and be crowned king of England during the life-time of his father. It was stipulated,

that Henry should pay twenty thousand marks to the king of France, as a compensation for the charges of the war; that his own barons should engage to make him observe this treaty, and, in case of violating it, to join Philip and Richard against him; and that all his vassals who espoused the cause of Richard should receive an indemnity for the offence. These were terms sufficiently humiliating to a prince accustomed to give, not to receive, commands: but what was his resentment, when, upon demanding a list of the barons that were to be thus pardoned, he found his son John, his favourite child, among the number! He had long borne an infirm state of body with calm resignation; he had seen his children rebel without much emotion; he saw his own son his conqueror, himself bereft of his power, reduced to the condition of a fugitive, and almost suppliant in his old age; and all this he endured with tranquillity of temper; but when he saw that child, whose interests always lay next his heart, among the number of those who were in rebellion against him, he could no longer contain his indignation. He broke out into expressions of the utmost despair; cursed the day in which he had received his miserable being; and bestowed on his ungrateful children a malediction which he never after could be prevailed upon to retract. The more his heart was disposed to friendship and affection, the more he resented this barbarous return; and now, not having one corner in his heart where he could look for comfort, or fly for refuge from his conflicting passions, he lost all his former vivacity. A lingering fever, caused by a broken heart, soon after terminated his life and his miseries. He died at the castle of Chinon near Saumur.

His corpse was conveyed by his natural son Geoffrey, who of all his children behaved with duty, to the nunnery of Fontevrault; and next day, while it lay in the abbey church, Richard chancing to enter, was struck with horror at the sight. At his approach the blood was seen to gush out at the mouth and nostrils of the corpse; and this, which without doubt was accidental, was interpreted by the superstition of the times as the most dreadful rebuke. Richard could not endure the sight; he exclaimed, "that he was his father's murderer;" and expressed a strong, though late sense of that undutiful conduct which brought his parent to an untimely grave. Thus died Henry in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and the thirtyfifth of his reign; in the course of which he displayed all the abilities of a politician, all the sagacity of a legislator, and all the magnanimity of a hero. He was of a middle stature, strong and well proportioned; his countenance was lively and engaging; his conversation affable and entertaining; his elocution easy, persuasive, and ever at command. When he could enjoy leisure, he recreated himself either in learned conversation or reading, and he cultivated his natural talents by study above any prince of his time. During his reign all foreign improvements in literature and politeness, in laws and arts, seem to have been, in a good measure, transplanted into England. The little learning of the Saxon priests, which was

confined to church history and legendary tales, was now exchanged for the subtilties of school philosophy. The homely manners of the great were softened by the pomp of chivalry. The people, however, were as yet far from being civilized; and even in their cities, where the social arts were best cultivated, there were amazing instances of barbarity. It was common, for instance, in London, for great numbers, to the amount of a hundred or more, of the sons and relatives of eminent citizens, to form themselves into a confederacy, to plunder and rob their more wealthy neighbours. By these crimes it was become so dangerous to walk the streets at night, that the citizens, after dark, were obliged to continue within doors. A band of these ruffians had one day attacked the house of a rich citizen, with an intention to plunder it. They had already broken through a stone wall with hammers and wedges, and were actually entering the house sword in hand, when the citizen, in complete armour, supported by his servant, appeared in the passage to oppose them. He cut off the right hand of the first robber that entered; and made such a noble resistance, that his neighbours had time to assemble and come to his relief. The man who lost his hand was caught; and was tempted by the promise of a pardon, to reveal his confederates, among whom was one John Senex, esteemed among the richest and the best-born citizens of London. He was convicted by the ordeal trial; and though he offered five hundred marks for his life, the king refused the money, and ordered him to be hanged.

Henry left only two legitimate sons, Richard, who succeeded him, and John, who inherited no territory, and therefore received the surname of Lackland. He left three legitimate daughters, Maud, who was married to the duke of Saxony, Eleanor, married to Alphonso king of Castile, and Joan, to William king of Sicily. He left two natural sons by Rosamond; Richard Longsword, who married the daughter, and heiress of the earl of Salisbury; and Geoffrey, who was afterwards archbishop of York.

CHAPTER X.

RICHARD I. SURNAMED CŒUR DE LION.

A. D. 1189-1199.

RICHARD, who succeeded to the throne without opposition, seemed resolved to discourage future disobedience, by dismissing from his service all those who had assisted him in his former undutiful conduct. Those who had seconded his rebellion, instead of meeting with that trust and honour which they expected, were treated with scorn and neglect. He retained in his service all the loyal adherents of the

late king; and more than once observed, that those who were faithful to one sovereign would probably continue so to another. He instantly, upon his accession, released his mother from confinement; and was profuse in heaping favours upon his brother John, who afterwards made a very indifferent return for his indulgence.

But the king was no way suspicious in his temper; nor did he give much attention to his own security, being more earnestly solicitous of fame. A romantic desire for strange adventures, and an immoderate zeal for the external rites of Christianity, were the ruling passions of the times. By these alone glory was to be acquired; and by these only Richard hoped for glory. The Jews, who had been for some time increasing in the kingdom, were the first who fell a sacrifice to the enthusiastic zeal of the people; and great numbers of them were slaughtered by the citizens of London, upon the very day of the king's coronation. Five hundred of that infatuated people had retired into York Castle for safety; but finding themselves unable to defend the place, they resolved to perish by killing one another, rather than meet the fury of their persecutors. Having taken this gloomy resolution, they first murdered their wives and children; next threw the dead bodies over the wall against their enemies, who attempted to scale it; and then setting fire to the houses, perished in the flames.

This horrid massacre, which was in itself so impolitic and unjust, instead of tarnishing the lustre of this monarch's reign, was then considered as a most splendid commencement of his government; and the people were from thence led to form the most favourable sentiments of his future glory. Nor was it long before he showed himself perfectly fitted to gratify their most romantic desires. Perhaps impelled more by a love of military glory than actuated by superstition, he resolved upon an expedition to the Holy Land, and took every method to raise money for so expensive an undertaking. His father had left him a treasure of above a hundred thousand marks; and this sum he endeavoured to augment by all expedients, however pernicious to the public, or dangerous to royal authority. He set up to sale the revenues and manors of the crown, and several offices of the greatest trust and power. Liberties, charters, castles, and employments, were given to the best bidders. When some of his friends suggested the danger attending this venality, he told them he would sell the city of London itself if he could procure a purchaser. In these times we find but one man who was honest enough to retire from employment when places were become thus ignominious. This was the great lawyer Glanville, who resigned his post of justiciary, and took the cross. Richard was not much displeased at his resignation, as he was able shortly after to sell his employment to Hugh, bishop of Durham, who gave a thousand marks for the office. Thus the king, elated with the hopes of fame, was blind to every other consideration. Numerous exactions were practised upon people of all ranks and stations; menaces, expostulations, promises, were used to frighten the timid, or allure the ava