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 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 liugering 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 Geof-Characte frey, who of all his children behaved with duty, to the Heinrih 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 fiftyseventh year of his age, and the thirty-fifth 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.

Heinrich Henry left only two legitimate sons, Richard, who Famille 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 opposi-Richard tion, seemed resolved to discourage future disobedience, Masre by dismissing from his service all those who had assist- gelu.›.

ed 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; Dievuden 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.

Richard This horrid massacre, which was in itself so impolizieht tic and unjust, instead of tarnishing the lustre of this mach monarch's reign, was then considered as a most splendid alästina 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 of fices 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