1194–1199.

The political history of England during the four years which

followed Richard’s departure over sea is simply the history of the

administration of Hubert Walter. Richard never again interfered in

the concerns of his island realm, save for the purpose of obtaining

money from it; and even the method whereby the money was to be raised

he left, like all other details of administration, wholly to the

justiciar’s discretion. Hubert in fact, as justiciar and archbishop,

wielded during these years a power even more absolute than that

which William of Longchamp had wielded during the king’s absence on

crusade. But Richard’s second experiment in governing England by deputy

succeeded far otherwise than the first. It was, indeed, attended with

far less risk; for the king himself was never really out of reach, and

could at any moment have returned to take up the reins of government

in person, had there been any need to do so. Moreover, the man whom he

now left as viceroy had far other qualifications for the office than

William of Longchamp.

Hubert Walter had been trained under the greatest constitutional lawyer

and most successful administrator of the age, Ralf de Glanville. He

was nephew to Ralf’s wife,[1695] and had been a clerk or chaplain

in Ralf’s household until 1186, when he was appointed dean of

York.[1696] A few months later he was one of five persons nominated

by the York chapter in answer to a royal mandate for election to the

vacant see.[1697] King Henry, however, refused all five, and Hubert

remained dean of York for three years longer. He seems to have held,

besides his deanery, an office at court, either as protonotary or

as vice-chancellor under Geoffrey; for during the last few months

of Henry’s life he is found in Maine attending upon the king,

and apparently charged with the keeping of the royal seal.[1698]

Consecrated to Salisbury by Archbishop Baldwin on October 22,

1189,[1699] he immediately afterwards set out with him for Palestine;

there he won universal esteem by the zeal and ability with which he

exerted himself to relieve the wants of the poorer crusaders;[1700] on

Baldwin’s death Hubert virtually succeeded to his place as the chief

spiritual authority in the host;[1701] and after Richard’s arrival

he made himself no less useful as the king’s best adviser and most

trusty diplomatic agent in Palestine.[1702] It was Hubert who headed

in Richard’s stead the first body of pilgrims whom the Turks admitted

to visit the Holy Sepulchre;[1703] and it seems to have been he, too,

who led back the English host from Palestine to Europe after Richard’s

departure. He hastened as early as possible to visit the king in his

captivity;[1704] and Richard lost no time in sending him to England

to be made archbishop, and to help the justiciars in collecting the

ransom.[1705] They had refused the help of William of Longchamp,

but they could not reject that of Hubert; for they knew that, as a

contemporary historian says, “the king had no one so like-minded with

himself, whose fidelity, prudence and honesty he had proved in so

many changes of fortune.”[1706] Hubert was one of the commissioners

appointed to have the custody of the ransom;[1707] and there can be

little doubt that the scheme by which it was raised was in part at

least devised by his financial genius, and carried into execution by

his energy and skill--qualities which he displayed no less effectively

in dealing with the revolt which was finally quelled by the return of

Richard himself.

[1695] Hubert’s mother and Ralf’s wife were sisters; cf. the

Glanville family history in Dugdale, _Monast. Angl._, vol. vi.

pt. i., p. 380, and the foundation-charter of Arklow, given by

Hubert’s brother Theobald, _ib._ pt. ii. p. 1128. Hubert and

his brothers seem to have been brought up by their aunt and her

husband; Hubert, when dean of York, founded a Premonstratensian

house at West Dereham “pro salute aniniæ meæ, et patris, et

matris meæ, et domini Ranulphi de Glanvillâ, et dominæ Bertriæ

uxoris ipsius, qui nos nutrierunt.” _Ib._ vol. vi. pt. ii. p.

899.

[1696] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. i. 360. Rog. Howden

(Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 310.

[1697] _Gesta Hen._ as above, p. 352.

[1698] See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iv. pref. p. xli. note 1.

[1699] R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 71.

[1700] _Itin. Reg. Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 134–137. _Gesta Ric._

(Stubbs), p. 145.

[1701] R. Diceto as above, p. 88. The Patriarch Heraclius

had become discredited in the eyes of all the right-minded

crusaders by his share in the divorce and remarriage of Queen

Isabel, which broke Baldwin’s heart.

[1702] Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 29 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 378).

[1703] _Ibid._ _Itin. Reg. Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 437, 438.

[1704] Will. Newb. as above, c. 33 (p. 388). Cf. Rog. Howden

(Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 209.

[1705] Will. Newb., l. iv. c. 33 (Howlett, vol. i. p. 388). Cf.

Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. pp. 516, 517.

[1706] Will. Newb. as above.

[1707] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 212.

Hubert entered upon his vice-royalty--for it was nothing less--under

more favourable conditions than William of Longchamp. He came to it

not as an upstart stranger, but as an Englishman already of high

personal and official standing, thoroughly familiar and thoroughly in

sympathy with the people whom he had to govern, intimately acquainted

with the principles and the details of the system which he was called

upon to administer; his qualifications were well known, and they were

universally acknowledged. Moreover, there was now no one capable of

heading any serious opposition to his authority, at least in secular

affairs. William of Longchamp was still chancellor; but like the

royal master to whose side he clave for the rest of his life, he had

left England for ever. From John there was also nothing to fear. His

intended trial never took place, for he threw himself at Richard’s

feet at the first opportunity, and was personally forgiven; but the

king was wise enough to leave untouched the sentence of forfeiture

passed by the justiciar, and to keep his brother at his own side,

a dependent upon his royal bounty, for nearly twelve months;[1708]

and then he restored to him nothing but the counties of Mortain and

Gloucester and the honour of Eye, but without their castles, giving

him in compensation for the latter and for his other estates a yearly

pension of eight thousand pounds Angevin.[1709] Even John’s capacities

for mischief-making were so far paralyzed by this arrangement that he

seems to have made no further attempt to meddle in English politics so

long as Richard lived. The one man in whom Hubert saw, or fancied he

saw, a possible rival on personal and ecclesiastical grounds, he swept

roughly out of his path. The two primates had already quarrelled over

the privileges of their respective sees, and nothing but the king’s

presence had availed to keep peace between them.[1710] The northern one

had been at feud with his own chapter ever since his appointment, and

they were now prosecuting an appeal against him at Rome. In June 1194,

backed, it can hardly be doubted, by Hubert’s influence, they obtained

from the Pope a sentence which practically condemned Geoffrey without

trial;[1711] and before these tidings reached England in September,

a committee of royal justices, sent by Hubert to deal with the case

in its temporal aspect, had already punished Geoffrey’s refusal to

acknowledge their jurisdiction by confiscating all his archiepiscopal

estates except Ripon.[1712] He went over sea and appealed to the

king, but in vain;[1713] and for the next five years there was again

but one primate in the land. One northern bishop, however, was still

ready to defy Hubert as he had defied William of Longchamp and his

own metropolitan. When the newly appointed sheriff of Northumberland,

Hugh Bardulf, sought to enter upon his office shortly after Richard’s

departure, he found that Hugh of Durham had already made a fresh

bargain with the king, whereby he was to retain the county on a

payment of two thousand marks. He tried, however, as before, to evade

the necessity of payment, and was in consequence forcibly disseized

by Richard’s orders.[1714] Still he was unwilling to give up the

game; and in the spring of 1195 he made another attempt to regain

the territorial influence in the north which Geoffrey’s fall seemed

to have placed again within his reach. The story went in Yorkshire

that he actually succeeded in once more obtaining from Richard--of

course on Richard’s usual terms--a commission as co-justiciar with

Hubert.[1715] Such a commission can hardly have been given otherwise

than in mockery; yet the aged bishop, untaught by all his experience

of the king’s shifty ways, once again set out from York, where he

had just been excommunicating some of Geoffrey’s partizans,[1716] to

publish his supposed triumph in London. Sickness, however, overtook him

on the way; from Doncaster he was compelled to turn back to his old

refuge at Howden, and there on March 3 he died.[1717] His palatinate

was of course taken into the custody of the royal justiciars.[1718] A

fortnight later Celestine III. sent to Archbishop Hubert a commission

as legate for all England;[1719] and thenceforth he was undisputed

ruler alike in Church and state.

[1708] Cf. Rog. Howden as above, pp. 252 and 286, and also R.

Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 64.

[1709] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 286.

[1710] _Ib._ pp. 246, 247, 250; vol. iv. pref. pp. lix, lx.

[1711] _Ib._ vol. iii. pp. 272, 273, 278–286; vol. iv. pref.

pp. lxii, lxiv.

[1712] _Ib._ vol. iii. pp. 261, 262; vol. iv. pref pp. lxi,

lxii.

[1713] Richard in November ordered his restoration, but the

order was not carried out; the brothers went on quarrelling,

and next year Richard again declared the archiepiscopal estates

forfeited, and this time finally. _Ib._ vol. iii. pp. 273, 287;

vol. iv. pref. pp. lxiv, lxix.

[1714] _Ib._ vol. iii. pp. 260, 261; cf. p. 249.

[1715] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 10 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 438,

439).

[1716] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 284.

[1717] _Ibid._ Will. Newb. as above (p. 439).

[1718] Rog. Howden as above, p. 285.

[1719] Dated March 18 [1195]. _Ib._ pp. 290–293. R. Diceto

(Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 125–127.

Like most of the higher clergy of Henry’s later years, Hubert was

distinctly more of a statesman than a churchman. His pontificate left

no mark on the English Church; as primate, his chief occupation was

to quarrel with his chapter. No scruples such as had moved Archbishop

Thomas to resign the chancellorship, or had made even Bishop Roger

of Salisbury seek a papal dispensation before he would venture to

undertake a lay office,[1720] held back Hubert Walter from uniting in

his own person the justiciarship and the primacy of all England. He

was, however, a statesman of the best school of the time, steeped in

the traditions of constitutional and administrative reform which had

grown up during Henry’s later years under the inspiration of the king

himself and the direction of Ralf de Glanville. The task of developing

their policy, therefore, could not have fallen to more competent

hands; and as Richard was totally destitute of his father’s business

capacities, it was well that Hubert was left to fulfil it according to

his own judgement and on his own sole responsibility for nearly four

years.

[1720] Will. Malm. _Gesta Reg._, l. v. c. 408 (Hardy, p. 637).

The justiciar’s first act after his sovereign’s departure was to

despatch the judges itinerant upon their annual visitation-tour with

a commission[1721] which struck the key-note of his future policy.

It was the note which had been struck by Henry II. in the Assizes

of Clarendon and Northampton; but the new commission shewed a great

advance in the developement of the principles which those measures

embodied. The jurisdiction of the justices is defined with greater

fulness and extended over a much wider sphere. The “pleas of the

Crown” with which they are empowered to deal include, besides those

formerly recognized under this head, such various matters as the

number and condition of churches in the king’s gift,[1722] escheats,

wardships and marriages;[1723] forgers[1724] and defaulters;[1725]

the harbouring of malefactors;[1726] the arrears of the ransom;[1727]

the use of false measures;[1728] the debts of the murdered Jews; the

fines due from their slayers,[1729] from the adherents of John, and

from his debtors, as well as from his own forfeited property;[1730]

the disposal of the chattels of dead usurers, and also of crusaders

who had died before setting out on their pilgrimage;[1731] and the

taking of recognitions under the Great Assize concerning land worth

not more than five pounds a year.[1732] In all these proceedings the

chief object evidently was to procure money for the royal treasury; a

tallage which the judges were also directed to assess upon all cities,

towns and royal demesnes[1733] being deemed insufficient to supply its

needs. The details of this multifarious business are however of less

historical importance than the method employed for its transaction.

Every item of it was to be dealt with on the presentment of what may

now be called the “grand jury”--the jury of sworn recognitors in

every shire, whose functions, hitherto confined to the presentment of

criminals, were thus extended to all branches of judicial work. This

growth in the importance of the jury was marked by the introduction

of a new ordinance for its constitution. The Assizes of Clarendon and

Northampton simply ordered that the jury should consist of twelve

lawful men of every hundred and four of every township, without

specifying how they were to be selected. Most probably they were

nominated by the sheriff.[1734] The recognitors employed in the civil

process known as the Great Assize, however, were from the first

appointed in a special manner prescribed in the Assize itself. Four

knights of the shire were summoned by the sheriff, and these four

elected the twelve recognitors.[1735] By the “Form of proceeding in

the pleas of the Crown” delivered to the justices-errant in 1194,

this method of election was applied to the jury of presentment in

all cases, with a modification which removed the choice yet one step

further from the mere nomination of the sheriff. Four knights were

first to be chosen out of the whole shire; these were to elect two

out of every hundred or wapentake, and these two were to choose ten

others, who with them constituted the legal twelve.[1736] Whether or

not the choice of the first four was actually, as seems most probable,

transferred from the sheriff to the body of the freeholders assembled

in the county-court,[1737] still this enactment shews a distinct

advance in the principles of election and representation, as opposed

to that of mere nomination by a royal officer. Another step in the

same direction was the appointment of three knights and a clerk to be

“elected in every shire to keep the pleas of the Crown.”[1738] This

was the origin of the office afterwards known as that of coroner. It

had the effect of depriving the sheriff of a considerable part of his

judicial functions; and his importance was at the same time yet further

limited by an order that no sheriff should act as justiciar in his own

shire, nor in any shire which he had held at any time since the king’s

first crowning.[1739] The difficulty of checking the abuse of power in

the hands of the sheriffs, which Henry had been unable to overcome,

had certainly not been lessened by Richard’s way of distributing the

sheriffdoms in his earlier years. It had indeed become so serious

that in this very year either the new justiciar, or possibly the king

himself, proposed an inquisition similar to that made by Henry in

1170, into the administration of all servants of the Crown, whether

justices, sheriffs, constables, or foresters, since the beginning of

the reign. When the king was gone, however, it seems to have been

felt that such an undertaking would add too heavily to the labours of

the judges-errant; and the inquiry was accordingly postponed for an

indefinite time by the archbishop’s orders.[1740]

[1721] “Forma qualiter procedendum est in placitis Coronæ

Regis.” Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 262–267; Stubbs,

_Select Charters_, pp. 259–263.

[1722] _Forma procedendi_, c. 4 (Stubbs, _Select Charters_, p.

259).

[1723] _Ib._ cc. 3, 5, 6, 23 (pp. 259, 260, 261).

[1724] _Ib._ c. 8 (p. 260).

[1725] _Ib._ c. 19 (as above).

[1726] _Ib._ c. 7 (as above).

[1727] _Ib._ c. 10 (as above).

[1728] _Ib._ c. 16 (as above). Richard had at the beginning of

his reign caused all weights and measures to be reduced to one

standard; Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._ (Luard), vol. ii. p. 351.

[1729] _Forma proced._, c. 9 (as above).

[1730] _Ib._ cc. 11–14 (as above).

[1731] _Ib._ cc. 15, 17 (as above).

[1732] _Ib._ c. 18 (as above).

[1733] _Ib._ c. 22 (p. 261).

[1734] Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iv. pref. pp. xcvi, xcvii.

[1735] R. Glanville, _De Legg. Angl._, l. xiii. c. 3.

[1736] _Forma proced._, introductory chap., Stubbs, _Select

Charters_, p. 259; Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 262.

[1737] Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, as above, pp. xcvii–xcix.

[1738] _Forma proced._, c. 20 (Stubbs, _Select Charters_, p.

260).

[1739] _Ib._ c. 21 (as above).

[1740] _Ib._ c. 25 (p. 263).

The principle of co-operation between the government and the people

for maintaining order and peace, which underlies all Henry’s reforming

measures, and of which the new regulations for election of the

grand jury are a further recognition, was again enunciated yet more

distinctly in the following year. An edict was published requiring

every man above the age of fifteen years to take an oath that he would

do all that in him lay for the preservation of the king’s peace; that

he would neither be a thief or robber, nor a receiver or accomplice of

such persons, but would do his utmost to denounce and deliver them to

the sheriff, would join to the uttermost of his power in the pursuit of

malefactors when hue and cry was raised against them, and would deliver

up to the sheriff all persons who should have failed to perform their

share in this duty.[1741] The obligation binding upon every member

of the state to lend his aid for the punishment of offences against

its peace had been declared, in words which are almost echoed in this

edict, as long ago as the reign of Cnut.[1742] The difficulty of

enforcing it caused by the disorganized condition of society which had

grown up during the civil war was probably the reason which led Henry,

in framing his Assizes of Clarendon and Northampton, at once to define

it more narrowly and to lay the responsibility of its execution upon a

smaller body of men specially appointed for the purpose in every shire.

The completeness of organization which the system introduced by these

Assizes had now attained, however, gave scope for a wider application

of the principle through one of those revivals of older custom in which

the enduring character of our ancient national institutions and their

capacity for adaptation to the most diverse conditions of national

life are so often and so strikingly displayed. The edict of 1195 forms

a link between the usage of Cnut’s day and that of modern times. It

directed that the oath should be taken before knights assigned for the

purpose in every shire; out of the office thus created there seems to

have grown that of conservators of the peace; and this again developed

in the fourteenth century into that of justices of the peace, which has

retained an unbroken existence down to our own age.[1743]

[1741] _Edictum Regium._ Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp.

299, 300; Stubbs, _Select Charters_, p. 264.

[1742] “And we will that every man above xii years make oath

that he will neither be a thief nor cognizant of theft.” Cnut,

Secular Dooms, c. 21, Stubbs, _Select Charters_, p. 74.

[1743] Stubbs, _Select Charters_, p. 263; _Constit. Hist._,

vol. i. p. 507; pref. to Rog. Howden, vol. iv. pp. c, ci.

The same year was marked by the only important ecclesiastical act of

Hubert’s pontificate. Having received in the spring his commission

as legate, he made use of it to hold a visitation of the northern

province--now, by Geoffrey’s absence and Hugh of Puiset’s death,

deprived of both its chief pastors--and a council in York minster at

which fifteen canons were passed[1744] to remedy the general relaxation

of Church discipline which had been growing ever since Thomas’s flight.

At the close of the year Hubert was again at York, upon a different

errand: the negotiation of a fresh treaty with Scotland, on the basis

of a marriage between the Scot king’s eldest daughter and Richard’s

nephew Otto of Saxony.[1745] The marriage never took place, but the

alliance of which it was to be the pledge lasted throughout Richard’s

reign; and it is a noteworthy proof at once of the growth of friendly

relations between the two countries, and of the success of Hubert’s

recent ordinance for the preservation of peace and order in England,

that in the following year a similar edict, evidently modelled upon the

English one, was issued in Scotland by William the Lion.[1746]

[1744] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 293–298. Cf. R.

Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 146–148, and Will. Newb., l. v.

c. 12 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 442).

[1745] William the Lion had been sick almost to death, and

having no son, had proposed to leave his crown to his eldest

daughter, under the protection of Richard, whose nephew he

wished her to marry. The opposition of his barons, and the

restoration of his own health, caused him to drop the scheme of

bequest (Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 298, 299). That of

the marriage however was still pursued, and accepted by Hubert

in Richard’s name, on somewhat singular conditions: Lothian, as

the bride’s dowry, was to be given over to Richard’s custody,

while Northumberland and the county of Carlisle were to be

settled upon Otto and made over to the keeping of the king of

Scots. The negotiation, however, dragged on for a year, and

was again checked by the hope of an heir to the Scottish crown

(_ib._ p. 308); and the fulfilment of this hope in August 1198

led to its abandonment. _Ib._ vol. iv. p. 54.

[1746] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 33. He says William

issued his proclamation “de bono sumens exemplum.”

Neither the renewal of order in the Church, nor the securing

of the external tranquillity of the realm by alliance with its

neighbour-states, nor the organization of justice and police within

its own borders, was however the most laborious part of Hubert’s task.

One thing only was required of him by his royal master; but that was

precisely the one thing which cost him the most trouble to obtain.

From a country which must, as it seems, have been almost drained of

its financial resources over and over again during the last ten years,

he was perpetually called upon to extract supplies of money such as

had never been furnished before to any English king. That he contrived

to meet Richard’s ceaseless demands year after year without either

plunging the nation into helpless misery or provoking it to open

revolt, is the strongest proof not only of his financial genius and

tact, but also of the increase in material prosperity and national

contentment which had been fostered by Henry’s rule, and of the success

of Hubert’s own efforts in carrying out the policy which Henry had

begun. By Michaelmas 1194 it seems that the whole of the complicated

accounts for the ransom, including the carucage imposed in the

spring, were closed.[1747] In the same year the country had borne the

additional burthen of a tallage upon the towns. This, however, added

to the sums raised by sales of office during the king’s visit and to

the proceeds of the judges’ visitation, failed to satisfy the wants of

Richard. He therefore resorted to two other methods of raising money,

both apparently of his own devising, and both harmonizing very ill with

the constitutional policy of his justiciar. Save during the disorderly

reign of Stephen, the practice of tournaments had been hitherto

unknown in England. Both Henry I. and Henry II. were too serious and

practical-minded to encourage vain shews of any kind, far less to

countenance the reckless waste of energy and the useless risk of life

and limb which these entertainments involved, which had moved Pope

after Pope to denounce them as perilous alike to body and soul,[1748]

and, in spite of a characteristic protest from Thomas Becket, to

exclude those who were slain in them from the privileges of Christian

burial.[1749] The Church had indeed been unable to check this obnoxious

practice in Gaul; backed, however, by the authority of the Crown, she

had as yet succeeded in keeping it out of England. But in 1194 a fresh

prohibition, issued by Pope Celestine in the previous year,[1750] was

met by Richard with a direct defiance. On August 20 he issued a license

for the holding of tournaments in England, on condition that every man

who took part in them should pay to the Crown a specified sum, varying

according to his rank. Five places were appointed where tournaments

might be held, and no one was allowed to enter the lists until he

had paid for his license.[1751] The collection of this new item of

revenue was evidently looked upon as an important matter, for it was

intrusted to the justiciar’s brother Theobald Walter.[1752] Whatever

may have been Hubert’s share in this measure, he was clearly in no way

responsible for the other and yet more desperate expedient to which

Richard, almost at the same time, resorted for the replenishment of his

treasury. On pretext of a quarrel with his chancellor, he took away the

seal from him, ordered another to be made, and declared all acts passed

under the old one to be null and void, till they should have been

brought to him for confirmation:[1753] in other words, till they should

have been paid for a second time.

[1747] See Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iv. pref. pp.

lxxxii–lxxxiv and notes.

[1748] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 4 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 422, 423).

[1749] Ep. xxiv., Robertson, _Becket_, vol. v. p. 36.

[1750] Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 56.

[1751] Writ in Rymer, as above, p. 65, and in Stubbs, _R.

Diceto_, vol. ii., app. to pref. pp. lxxx, lxxxi; this latter

copy is dated August 22. Cf. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p.

268, Will. Newb., l. v. c. 4 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 422, 423),

and R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 120.

[1752] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 268.

[1753] _Ib._ p. 267. Cf. R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 93. Rog.

Howden’s very confused account of the seals is made clear by

Bishop Stubbs, _Constit. Hist._, vol. i. p. 506 note.

In the following spring a fit of characteristic Angevin

penitence--fervent and absorbing while it lasted, but passing away all

too soon--moved the king to make some amends for his extortions as well

as for his other sins; he began to replace the church-plate which had

been given up for his ransom;[1754] no fresh tax was imposed till late

in the year, and then it was only a scutage of the usual amount--twenty

shillings on the knight’s fee--for the war in Normandy.[1755] Next

year, however, the king’s mood again changed. He was now resolved to

carry into effect, with or without Hubert’s assent, the inquiry into

the financial administration which Hubert had postponed in 1194. For

this purpose he sent over to England Robert, abbot of S. Stephen’s at

Caen, who, notwithstanding his monastic profession, had acquired great

experience as a clerk of the Norman exchequer, and seems to have there

enjoyed a high reputation for knowledge and skill in all matters of

finance.[1756] The abbot, accompanied by the bishop-elect of Durham,

Philip of Poitiers,[1757] reached London in Lent 1196, and demanded

Hubert’s co-operation in fulfilling the royal orders. The justiciar,

though displeased and hurt, had no choice but to comply, and an order

was issued in the king’s name bidding all sheriffs and officers of the

Crown be ready to give an account of their stewardship in London on

a certain day--apparently the day of the usual Exchequer-meeting in

Easter-week.[1758] Before Easter came, the abbot of Caen himself was

gone to his last account; he was seized with illness while dining with

Archbishop Hubert on Passion Sunday, and five days later he died.[1759]

The intended inquisition never took place; but the mere proposal to

conduct it thus through the medium of a stranger from over sea was

a direct slight offered to the justiciar by the king;[1760] and it

coincided with a disturbance which warned Hubert of a possible danger

to his authority from another quarter.

[1754] Rog. Howden as above, p. 290. Cf. _Itin. Reg. Ric._

(Stubbs), pp. 449, 450.

[1755] See Madox, _Hist. Exch._, vol. i. pp. 637, 638. That it

was imposed late in the year seems implied by so much of it not

being accounted for till the next year; see Stubbs, pref. to

Rog. Howden, vol. iv. p. lxxxviii and note 3.

[1756] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 19 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 464). Cf.

Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 5.

[1757] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 5. He seems to imply

that Philip shared in the abbot’s commission; but he evidently

made no attempt to act upon it after Robert’s death.

[1758] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 19 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 465).

[1759] Rog. Howden as above. “Nec cum eis quos evocaverat post

Pascha positurus, sed ante Pascha rationem superno Judici de

propriis actibus redditurus.” Will. Newb. as above.

[1760] On April 15, four days after the abbot’s death, Richard

wrote a sort of apology to the justiciar. See Stubbs, _R.

Diceto_, vol. ii. app. to pref. pp. lxxix, lxxx.

Strive as he might to equalize the burthens of taxation, he could

not prevent them from pressing upon the poorer classes with a

severity which grew at last well-nigh intolerable. The grievance was

felt most keenly in London. The substitution of the “commune” for

the older shire-organization of London in 1191 was a step towards

municipal unity, and thus indirectly towards local independence and

self-government; but it had done nothing for the poorer class of

citizens. It had placed the entire control of civic administration,

including the regulation of trade and the assessment of taxes, in the

hands of a governing body consisting of a mayor and aldermen, one of

whom presided over each of the wards into which the whole city was

divided, the head of them all being the mayor.[1761] This corporation

was the representative of the merchant-gild, which had thus absorbed

into itself all the powers and privileges of the earlier ruling

class of territorial magnates, in addition to its own. As might be

expected, the rule of this newly-established oligarchy over the mass

of its unenfranchized fellow-citizens was at least as oppressive as

that of the sheriffs and “barons of the city” which had preceded it;

and it was less willingly borne, owing to the jealousy which always

existed between the craftsmen and the merchant-gild. As the taxes

grew more burthensome year by year, a suspicion began to spread

that they were purposely assessed in such a manner as to spare the

well-filled pockets of the assessors, and wring an unfair proportion

of the required total from the hard-earned savings of the poor.[1762]

Whether the injustice was intentional or not, the grievance seems to

have been a real one; and it soon found a spokesman and a champion.

William Fitz-Osbert--“William with the Long Beard,” as he was commonly

called--was by birth a member of the ruling class in the city.[1763]

He seems to have shared with a goldsmith named Geoffrey the leadership

of a band of London citizens who in 1190 formed part of the crusading

fleet, and did good service, not indeed, so far as we know, in Holy

Land, but like their brethren forty-three years earlier, in helping

to drive the Moors out of Portugal.[1764] Since his return, whether

fired by genuine zeal for the cause of the oppressed, or, as some of

his contemporaries thought, moved by the hope of acquiring power and

influence which he found unattainable by other means,[1765] he had

severed himself from his natural associates in the city to become the

preacher and leader of another sort of crusade, for the deliverance

of the poorer classes from the tyranny of their wealthy rulers. At

every meeting of the governing body he withstood his fellow-aldermen

to the face, remonstrating continually against their corrupt fiscal

administration. They could not silence and dared not expel him,

for they knew that his whispers were stirring up the craftsmen;

and although the rumour that he had more than fifty thousand sworn

followers at his back must have been an exaggeration, yet there could

be no doubt of the existence of a conspiracy sufficiently formidable

to excuse, if not to justify, the terror of the civic rulers.[1766]

When after a visit to Normandy William began openly to boast of the

king’s favour and support, the justiciar thought it time to interfere.

He called the citizens together, endeavoured to allay their discontent

by reasonings and remonstrances, and persuaded them to give hostages

for their good behaviour.[1767] William however set his authority at

defiance. Day after day, in the streets and open spaces of the city,

and at last even in S. Paul’s itself,[1768] this bold preacher with the

tall stately form, singular aspect and eloquent tongue gathered round

him a crowd of eager listeners to whom he proclaimed himself as the

“king and saviour of the poor.” One of his audience afterwards reported

to a writer of the time his exposition of a text from Isaiah: “With joy

shall ye draw water out of the wells of the Saviour.”[1769] “I,” said

William, “am the saviour of the poor. Ye poor who have felt the heavy

hand of the rich, ye shall draw from my wells the water of wholesome

doctrine, and that with joy, for the time of your visitation is at

hand. For I will divide the waters from the waters. The people are the

waters; and I will divide the humble and faithful people from the proud

and perfidious people. I will divide the elect from the reprobate, as

light from darkness.”[1770]

[1761] In the _Liber de Antiquis Legibus_ (a chronicle of the

mayors and sheriffs of London, compiled in 1274, and edited

by Mr. Stapleton for the Camden Soc.), p. 1, the first mayor,

Henry Fitz-Aylwine, is said to have been appointed “anno gratie

Mº centesimo lxxxviii, anno primo regni Regis Ricardi;” and

the document known as Fitz-Aylwine’s Assize (_ib._ p. 206)

purports to have been issued “Anno Domini Mº Cº lxxxix,

scilicet primo anno regni illustris Regis Ricardi, existente

tunc Henrico filio Aylewini Maiore, qui fuit primus Maiorum

Londoniarum.” On this however Bishop Stubbs remarks: “It is

improbable that London had a recognized mayor before 1191,

in which year the communa was established ... and there is

I believe no mention of such an official in a record until

some three years later.” Introd. to _Annales Londonienses_

(“Chronicles of Ed. I. and Ed. II.”), p. xxxi.

[1762] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 5. Mat. Paris, _Chron.

Maj._ (Luard), vol. ii. p. 418. Will. Newb., l. v. c. 20

(Howlett, vol. ii. p. 466).

[1763] “Willelmus cum Barbâ,” Rog. Howden as above, pp. 5,

6; “agnomen habens a barbâ prolixâ,” Will. Newb. (as above);

“cognomento cum-Barbâ,” “dictus Barbatus vel Barba,” Mat.

Paris (as above), pp. 418, 419. Will. Newb. thinks he wore the

unusual appendage simply to make himself conspicuous; Mat.

Paris explains “cujus genus avitum ob indignationem Normannorum

radere barbam contempsit,” on which see Freeman, _Norm. Conq._,

vol. v. p. 900.

[1764] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), pp. 116–118.

[1765] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 5, 6, and Mat. Paris,

_Chron. Maj._ (Luard), vol. ii. pp. 418, 419, represent the

former view; Will. Newb., l. v. c. 20 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp.

467, 468), and R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 143, the latter.

[1766] Will. Newb. as above (p. 468).

[1767] _Ib._ (pp. 468, 469).

[1768] R. Diceto as above.

[1769] “Of salvation,” A. V.; “de fontibus Salvatoris,” Vulg.

Is. xii. 3.

[1770] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 20 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 469).

Powerless to deal with these assemblies within the city, Hubert

determined at least to check the spread of such teaching as this,

and issued orders that any citizen of the lower class found outside

the walls should be arrested as an enemy to king and kingdom. Some

chapmen from London were accordingly arrested at Mid-Lent at Stamford

fair.[1771] A day or two afterwards--the justiciar’s fears being

perhaps quickened by the arrival of the abbot of Caen, which William

might easily interpret as the effect of his own remonstrances with the

king--an attempt was made to call William himself to account for his

seditious proceedings. The bearer of the summons found him surrounded

by such a formidable array of followers that he dared not execute

his commission, and a forcible arrest was decided on. Guided by two

citizens who undertook to catch him at unawares, a party of armed men

was sent to seize him;[1772] one of the guides was felled with a blow

of a hatchet by William himself, the other was slain by his friends;

William, with a few adherents, took sanctuary in the church of S.

Mary-at-Bow. The justiciar, after surrounding the church with soldiers,

ordered it to be set on fire,[1773] and William, driven out by the

smoke and the flames, was stabbed on the threshold by the son of the

man whom he had killed an hour before.[1774] The wound however was

not immediately fatal; the soldiers seized him and carried him to the

Tower for trial before the justiciars, who at once condemned him to

death; he was stripped, tied to a horse’s tail, thus dragged through

the city, and hanged with eight of his adherents.[1775] The rest of

the malcontents were so overawed by this spectacle that they at once

made complete submission.[1776] The justiciar had triumphed; but his

triumph was dearly bought at the cost of what little still remained

to him of personal popularity and ecclesiastical repute. The common

people persisted in reverencing William Longbeard as a martyr;[1777]

the clergy were horrified at the sacrilege involved in the violation

of the right of sanctuary and the firing of a church, a sacrilege all

the more unpardonable because committed by an archbishop; while his

own chapter seized upon it as the crowning charge in the already long

indictment which they were preparing against their primate.[1778]

Thus overwhelmed with obloquy on all sides, Hubert in disgust for a

moment threw up the justiciarship, but resumed it as soon as he was

once more assured of Richard’s confidence.[1779] For two more years

he toiled on at his thankless task. The budget of 1196 was made up

by the safe expedient of another scutage.[1780] Next year the sole

legislative act ventured upon by the justiciar was an attempt to

enforce uniformity of weights and measures throughout the kingdom by

means of an Assize,[1781] whose provisions however turned out to be

so impracticable that, like a similar ordinance issued earlier in the

reign, it seems to have remained inoperative, and six years later was

abolished altogether.[1782] In the autumn Hubert went over to Normandy,

where he was occupied for some weeks in diplomatic business for the

king.[1783] A month after his return the crisis came.

[1771] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 6.

[1772] Will. Newb. as above (p. 470).

[1773] _Ibid._ Rog. Howden as above; Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._

(Luard) vol. ii. p. 419. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 143,

makes William himself fire the church, but this seems nonsense,

as he clearly had no intention of dying in it.

[1774] Will. Newb. as above. Cf. Rog. Howden as above.

[1775] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 20 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 471) says

nine. Eight is the number given by Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol.

iv. p. 6. Cf. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 143; Gerv. Cant.

(Stubbs), vol. i. pp. 533, 534; and Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._

(Luard), vol. ii. p. 419. Gervase calls the place of execution

“ad ulmos,” Mat. Paris “ad Ulmetum” [“the Elms in Smithfield”

notes Mr. Luard in the margin]. R. Diceto calls it Tyburn;

the other writers give it no name at all. We are indebted

to Gervase (as above, p. 533) for the date of this affair;

Saturday, April 6--the day before the abbot of Caen fell sick;

see above, p. 344.

[1776] Rog. Howden and R. Diceto, as above.

[1777] See Will. Newb. as above, c. 21 (pp. 471, 472). Mat.

Paris (as above) heartily shared in their opinion.

[1778] Rog. Howden as above, p. 48.

[1779] _Ib._ pp. 12, 13.

[1780] Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iv. pref. p. lxxxviii and

note 3. Madox, _Hist. Exch._, vol. i. pp. 637, 638.

[1781] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 33, 34.

[1782] _Ib._ p. 172. Stubbs, _Constit. Hist._, vol. i. p. 509.

[1783] R. Diceto as above, p. 158. Gerv. Cant. as above, pp.

544, 545. The dates do not exactly agree.

Richard, at the height of his struggle with Philip of France, found

himself short not only of money but of men,[1784] at any rate of men

whom he could trust. He called upon Hubert to send him over from

England either a force of three hundred knights to serve him at their

own charges for a year, or a sum which would enable him to enlist the

same number of mercenaries for the same period, at the rate of three

English shillings a day.[1785] For some reason or other it seems

that Hubert, somewhat unwisely, at once decided to ignore the second

alternative; in a great council held at Oxford on December 7[1786] he

simply proposed, in his own name and that of his colleagues in the

government, that the barons of England, among whom the bishops were to

be reckoned, should come to the rescue of their distressed sovereign by

supplying him with three hundred knights to serve him at their own cost

for a year. Hubert himself, in his character of archbishop, declared

his readiness to take his share of the burthen; so did the bishop of

London, Richard Fitz-Nigel the treasurer. The bishop of Lincoln, Hugh

of Avalon, was then asked for his assent. “O ye wise and noble men here

present,” said the Burgundian saint, “ye know that I came to this land

as a stranger, and from the simplicity of a hermit’s life was raised

to the office of a bishop. When therefore my inexperience was called

to rule over the church of our Lady, I set myself carefully to learn

its customs and privileges, its duties and burthens; and for thirteen

years I have not strayed from the path marked out by my predecessors,

in preserving the one and fulfilling the other. I know that the church

of Lincoln is bound to do the king military service, but only in this

land; outside the boundaries of England she owes him no such thing.

Wherefore I deem it meeter for me to go back to my native land and my

hermit’s cell, rather than, while holding a bishopric here, to bring

upon my church the loss of her ancient immunities and the infliction of

unwonted burthens.”[1787]

[1784] _Magna Vita S. Hugonis_ (Dimock), p. 248.

[1785] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 40.

[1786] Cf. Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 549, and _Mag. Vita

S. Hug._ (Dimock), p. 251.

[1787] _Mag. Vita S. Hug._ (Dimock), pp. 249, 250.

Hugh of Lincoln was the universally-acknowledged leader of the English

Church in all matters of religion and morals; he had exercised in Henry

II.’s later years such an influence over the king as no one, except

perhaps Thomas Becket, had ever possessed; the whole Church and nation

reverenced him as it had never reverenced any man since the death of S.

Anselm. When he took up the position of Thomas and Anselm as a champion

of constitutional liberty, the victory was sure. Strangely enough, his

action seems to have taken the primate completely by surprise. For a

moment Hubert stood speechless; then he turned to Bishop Herbert of

Salisbury, and with quivering lips asked what he was minded to do for

the king’s assistance. As a son of Richard of Ilchester and a kinsman

of the great ministerial house founded by Roger of Salisbury,[1788]

Herbert represented the traditions of an old and venerated political

school, as Hugh represented those of the best school of ecclesiastics.

The statesman’s reply was an echo of the saint’s: “It seems to me that,

without grievous wrong to my church, I can neither do nor say aught but

what I have heard from my lord of Lincoln.” The justiciar, hurling a

torrent of reproaches at Hugh, broke up the assembly, and wrote to the

king that his plan had been foiled through Hugh’s opposition.[1789]

Richard in a fury ordered the property of the two recalcitrant bishops

to be confiscated; in the case of Salisbury this was done, but no

Englishman dared lay a finger on anything belonging to the saint of

Lincoln, “for they feared his curse like death itself.” In vain did

the king reiterate his command, till at last his own officers begged

Hugh to put an end to the scandal by making his peace, for their sakes

if not for his own; Hugh therefore went to seek Richard in Normandy,

and literally forced him into a reconciliation on S. Augustine’s day.

Herbert, on the other hand, had to purchase his restoration at a

heavy price;[1790] but the king and his justiciar were none the less

completely beaten. The death of Rees Ap-Griffith and a dispute between

his sons for the succession in South Wales gave Hubert an opportunity

of renewing his fading laurels by a brilliant expedition to the Welsh

marches, where he succeeded in restoring tranquillity and securing

the border-fortresses for the king.[1791] He had however scarcely had

time to recover from his political defeat before he was overwhelmed by

the bursting of an ecclesiastical storm which had long been hanging

over his head. Pope Celestine died on January 8, 1198. On the morrow

the cardinals elected as his successor a young deacon named Lothar,

who took the name of Innocent III., and began at once to sweep away

the abuses of the Roman court and to vindicate the rights of his see

against the Roman aristocracy with a promptness and vigour which were

an earnest of his whole future career.[1792] The monks of Canterbury

lost no time in sending to the new Pope their list of grievances

against their primate; and at the head of the list they set a charge

which, in the eyes of such a pontiff as Innocent, could admit of no

defence. Hubert, said they, had violated the duties and the dignity

of his order by becoming the king’s justiciar, acting as a judge in

cases of life and death, and so entangling himself in worldly business

that he was incapable of paying due attention to the government of

the Church. Innocent immediately wrote to the king, charging him, if

he valued his soul’s health, not to suffer either the archbishop of

Canterbury or any other priest to continue in any secular office;

and at the same time he solemnly forbade the acceptance of any such

office by any bishop or priest throughout the whole Church. Discredited

as Hubert now was in the eyes of all parties, he had no choice but

to resign, and this time Richard had no choice but to accept his

resignation.[1793]

[1788] On Herbert’s antecedents and connexions see Stubbs,

_Rog. Howden_, vol. iv. pref. p. xci, note 4.

[1789] _Mag. Vita S. Hug._ (Dimock), p. 250. Cf. the brief

account in Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 40.

[1790] _Mag. Vita S. Hug._ (Dimock), p. 251.

[1791] On Rees’s death his two sons quarrelled over the

succession, and Hubert had to go to the “fines Gwalliæ” and

make peace between them. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p.

21. At Christmas he was at Hereford, where he took the castle

into his own hands, turning out its custodians and putting in

new ones, “ad opus regis”; he did the same at Bridgenorth and

Ludlow. _Ib._ p. 35. See also Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p.

543, Gerald’s letter to Hubert after his victory, and Hubert’s

reply: Gir. Cambr. _De Rebus a se gestis_, l. iii. cc. 5, 6

(Brewer, vol. i. pp. 96–102).

[1792] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 41–44.

[1793] _Ib._ pp. 47, 48.

The last few months of his justiciarship were however occupied with the

projection, if not the execution, of a measure of great constitutional

importance. Early in the spring he had, in his master’s name, laid upon

England a carucage to the amount of five shillings upon every carucate

or ploughland. The great increase in the rate of taxation, as compared

with that of 1194, was not unjustifiable; for since that year the

socage-tenants, on whom the impost fell, had paid no direct taxes at

all, while two scutages had been exacted from the tenants-in-chivalry.

But a far more important change was made in the assessment of the new

impost. Until now, the carucate, like the hide, had been a term of

elastic significance. It represented, as the literal meaning of the

word implied, the extent of land which could be cultivated by a single

plough; and this of course varied in different parts of the country

according to the nature of the soil, and the number and strength of

the plough-team. In general, however, a hundred acres seem to have

been reckoned as the average extent both of the carucate and of the

hide. In order to avoid the endless complications and disputes which

under the old system had made the assessment of the land-tax a matter

of almost more trouble than profit, Hubert Walter adopted this average

as a fixed standard, and ordered that henceforth, for purposes of

taxation, the word “carucate” should represent a hundred acres. It

followed as a necessary consequence that the whole arable land of

England must be re-measured. The old customary reckoning of hides,

based upon the Domesday survey, would no longer answer its purpose:

the venerable rate-book which had been in use for more than a hundred

years, partially superseded since 1168 by the Black Book of the

Exchequer, was now to be superseded entirely. Hubert therefore issued

in the king’s name a commission for what was virtually a new Domesday

survey. Into every shire he sent a clerk and a knight, who, together

with the sheriff and certain lawful men chosen out of the shire, were,

after swearing that they would do the king’s business faithfully, to

summon before them the stewards of the barons of the county, the lord

or bailiff of every township and the reeve and four lawful men of the

same, whether free or villein, and two lawful knights of the hundred;

these persons were to declare upon oath what ploughlands there were in

every township--how many in demesne, how many in villenage, how many

in alms, and who was responsible for these last. The carucates thus

ascertained were noted in a roll of which four copies were kept, one

by each of the two royal commissioners, one by the sheriff, and the

other divided among the stewards of the local barons. The collection

of the money was intrusted to two lawful knights and the bailiff of

every hundred; these were responsible for it to the sheriff; and the

sheriff had to see that it agreed with his roll, and to pay it into

the Exchequer. Stern penalties were denounced against witnesses,

whether free or villein, who should be detected in trying to deceive

the commissioners. No land was to be exempted from the tax, except the

free estates belonging to the parish churches, and lands held of the

king by serjeanty or special service; even these last, however, were

to be included in the survey, and their holders were required to come

and prove their excuses at its conclusion, in London at the octave of

Pentecost.[1794]

[1794] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 46, 47.

This was Hubert’s last great administrative act, and it had a far

more important significance than he himself probably knew. In form,

the application of the process of jury-inquest to the assessment of

an impost on the land was only a return to the precedent of Domesday

itself. In reality, however, it was something much more important

than this. The jury-inquest had been introduced by the Conqueror in

1086 under exceptional circumstances, and for an exceptional purpose

which could be attained by no other means. So far as its original

use was concerned, the precedent had remained a wholly isolated one

for more than a hundred years. But during those years the principle

which lay at the root of the jury-inquest had made its way into every

branch of legal, fiscal and judicial administration. It had been

applied to the purposes of private litigation by the Great Assize,

to the determination of individual liability to military duty by the

Assize of Arms, to the assessment of taxation on personal property

by the ordinance of the Saladin tithe; it had penetrated the whole

system of criminal procedure through the Assizes of Clarendon and

Northampton; and it had gained a yet fuller recognition in the

judicial ordinances of 1194. Viewed in this light, its application

to the assessment of taxation on real property was another highly

important step in the extension of its sphere of work. But this was

not all. The chief value of the jury-system lay in its employment

of the machinery of local representation and election, whereby it

was a means of training the people to the exercise of constitutional

self-government. The commission of 1198 shews that, although doubtless

neither rulers nor people were conscious of the fact, this training

had now advanced within measurable distance of its completion. The

machinery of the new survey was not identical with that used in 1086.

The taxpayers were represented, not only by the witnesses on whose

recognition the assessment was based, but by the “lawful men chosen

out of the shire” who took their place side by side with the king’s

officers as commissioners for the assessment, and by the bailiff and

two knights of the hundred who were charged with the collection of

the money. The representative principle had now reached its furthest

developement in the financial administration of the shire. Its next

advance must inevitably result in giving to the taxpayers a share in

the determination, first of the amount of the impost, and then of the

purposes to which it should be applied, by admitting them, however

partially and indirectly, to a voice in the great council of the

nation.[1795]

[1795] On this “Great Carucage” see Stubbs, _Constit. Hist._,

vol. i. pp. 510, 511, and pref. to Rog. Howden, vol. iv. pp.

xci–xcv.

We must not credit Hubert Walter with views so lofty or so far-reaching

as these. The chief aim of his policy doubtless was to get for his

master as much money as he could, although he would only do it by

what he regarded as just and constitutional methods. Unluckily the

commissioners’ report is lost, and there is not even any proof that

it was ever presented; for before Whitsuntide the new Pope’s views

had become known, and on July 11 a royal writ announced Hubert’s

retirement from the justiciarship and the appointment of Geoffrey

Fitz-Peter in his stead.[1796] Like Hubert, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter came

of a family which had long been engaged in administrative work. His

elder brother Simon had in Henry’s early years filled the various

offices of sheriff, justice-in-eyre, and king’s marshal.[1797] Geoffrey

himself had been sheriff of Northampton throughout the last five years

of Henry’s reign, and had during the same period acted occasionally

as an ordinary justice of assize, and more frequently as a judge of

the forest-court.[1798] In 1189 Richard appointed him one of the

assistant-justiciars, and in this capacity he supported Walter of Rouen

in the affair of William of Longchamp’s deposition.[1799] In the early

days of William’s rule, however, Geoffrey had made use of the latter’s

influence to secure for himself the whole English inheritance of the

earl of Essex, William de Mandeville, upon which his wife had a distant

claim.[1800] Such a man was likely to be controlled by fewer scruples,

as well as hampered by fewer external restraints, than those which had

beset the justiciar-archbishop; and in truth, before the year was out,

both clergy and people had cause to regret the change of ministers.

Some of the religious orders refused to pay their share of the

carucage; their refusal was met by a royal edict declaring the whole

body of clergy, secular as well as monastic, incapable of claiming

redress for any wrongs inflicted on them by the laity, while for any

injury done by a clerk or a monk to a layman satisfaction was exacted

to the uttermost farthing. The archbishop of Canterbury could hardly

have published what was virtually a decree of outlawry against his own

order; the new justiciar published it seemingly without hesitation,

and the recalcitrant monks were compelled to submit.[1801] This act

was followed by a renewal of the decree requiring all charters granted

under the king’s old seal to be brought up for confirmation under

the new one[1802]--a step which seems to imply that Richard’s former

command to this effect had not been very strictly enforced by Hubert.

Meanwhile three justices-errant, acting on a set of instructions

modelled upon those of 1194, were holding pleas of the Crown in the

northern shires;[1803] “so that,” says King Henry’s old chaplain Roger

of Howden, “with these and other vexations, just or unjust, all England

from sea to sea was reduced to penury. And these things were not yet

ended when another kind of torment was added to confound the men of

the kingdom, through the justices of the forest,” who were sent out

all over England to hold a great forest-assize, which was virtually a

renewal of that issued by Henry in 1184.[1804]

[1796] Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 71.

[1797] He was sheriff of Northamptonshire, Bedfordshire and

Buckinghamshire from 1156 till 1160, and of Northamptonshire

again from Michaelmas 1163 till Easter 1170. See the list of

sheriffs in index to Eyton’s _Itin. Hen. II._, pp. 337, 339. He

appears as marshal in 1165 (Madox, _Form. Angl._, p. xix), and

as justice-errant in Bedfordshire, A.D. 1163, in the story of

Philip de Broi (above, p. 21).

[1798] Eyton, _Itin. Hen. II._, list of sheriffs, p. 339; _ib._

pp. 265, 273, 281, 291, 298. Pipe Roll I. Ric. I. (Hunter)

_passim_.

[1799] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 16, 28, 96, 153.

[1800] Stubbs, _Rog. Howden_, vol. iii., pref. p. xlviii, note

6.

[1801] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 66.

[1802] _Ibid._ Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._ (Luard), vol. ii. p.

451. Ann. Waverl. a. 1198 (Luard, _Ann. Monast._, vol. ii. p.

251).

[1803] Instructions in Rog. Howden (as above), pp. 61, 62. The

judges were Hugh Bardulf, Roger Arundel and Geoffrey Hacket;

they held pleas in Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire,

Yorkshire, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Cumberland and

Lancashire.

[1804] Rog. Howden (as above), pp. 62–66.

Stern and cruel, however, as was the administration of the last eight

months of Richard’s reign, it was still part of a salutary discipline.

The milder chastenings which Richard’s English subjects had endured

from Hubert Walter, the scorpion-lashes with which he chastised them

by the hands of Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, were both alike stages in the

training which Richard’s predecessor had begun, and whose value they

were to learn when left face to face with the personal tyranny of his

successor. For nearer at hand than they could dream was the day when

English people and Angevin king were to stand face to face indeed,

more closely than they had ever stood before. The nine generations of

increasing prosperity promised to Fulk the Good were all numbered and

fulfilled, and with their fulfilment had come the turn of the tide.

The power of the Angevins had reached its destined limit, and had

begun to recede again. From the sacred eastern land all trace of it was

already swept away; in the west it was, slowly indeed as yet, but none

the less surely falling back. Five years were still to pass before the

tide should be fairly out; then it was to leave the Good Count’s heir

stranded, not on the black rock of Angers, but on the white cliffs of

England.

Richard had spent the first half of his reign in fighting for a lost

cause in Palestine; he spent the other half in fighting for a losing

cause in Gaul. The final result of the long series of conquests

and annexations whereby the Angevin counts, from Fulk the Red to

Henry Fitz-Empress, had been enlarging their borders for more than

two hundred years, had been to bring them into direct geographical

contact and political antagonism with an enemy more formidable than

any whom they had yet encountered. In their earliest days the king

of the French had been their patron; a little later, he had become

their tool. Now, he was their sole remaining rival; and ere long he

was to be their conqueror. Since the opening of the century, a great

change had taken place in the political position of the French Crown;

a change which was in a considerable measure due to the yet greater

change in the position of the Angevin house. When Louis VI. came to the

throne in 1109, he found the so-called “kingdom of France” distributed

somewhat as follows. The western half, from the river Somme to the

Pyrenees, was divided between four great fiefs--Normandy, Britanny,

Anjou and Aquitaine. Four others--Champagne, Burgundy, Auvergne and

Toulouse--covered its eastern portion from the river Meuse to the

Mediterranean Sea; another, Flanders, occupied its northernmost angle,

between the sources of the Meuse, the mouth of the Scheld, and the

English Channel. The two lines of great fiefs were separated by an

irregular group of smaller territories, amid which lay, distributed in

two very unequal portions, the royal domain. Its northern and larger

half, severed from Flanders by the little counties of Amiens and

Vermandois, was flanked on the east by Champagne and on the north-west

by Normandy, while its south-western border was ringed in by the

counties of Chartres, Blois and Sancerre, which parted it from Anjou,

and which were all linked together with Champagne under the same ruling

house. Southward, in the upper valleys of the Loire and the Cher, a

much smaller fragment of royal domain, comprising the viscounty of

Bourges and the territory afterwards known as the Bourbonnais, lay

crowded in between Auvergne, the Aquitanian district of Berry, and the

Burgundian counties of Mâcon and Nevers and that of Sancerre, which

parted it from the larger royal possessions north of the Loire. The

whole domains of the Crown thus covered scarcely more ground than the

united counties of Anjou, Touraine and Maine, scarcely so much as the

duchy of Normandy. Within these limits, however, Louis VI. had in his

twenty-nine years’ reign contrived to establish his absolute authority

on so firm a basis that from thenceforth the independence of the Crown

was secured. To destroy that of the great feudataries, and to bring

them one by one into a subjection as absolute as that of the royal

domain itself, was the work which he bequeathed to his successors.

[Illustration: Map VII.

FRANCE AND THE ANGEVIN DOMINIONS.

To illustrate the wars of Richard and John with Philip Augustus.

Key: _Royal Domain of Philip. A. D. 1194._

Wagner & Debes’ Geogˡ. Estabᵗ. Leipsic. London, Macmillan & Co.

]

We may set aside the temporary annexation of Aquitaine through the

marriage of Louis VII. and Eleanor as forming no part of this process

of absorption. In the plans of Louis VI. it was doubtless meant to be a

very important part; but as a matter of fact, its historical importance

proved to be of a wholly different kind. The marriage of Louis and

Eleanor contributed to the final acquisition of Guienne and Gascony

by the French Crown not a whit more than the marriage of Geoffrey

Martel and Agnes had contributed to their acquisition by the house of

Anjou. The Parisian king, like his Angevin follower of old, had work

to do on his own side of the Loire before he might safely attempt

the conquest of the south. By the middle of the century, the map of

Gaul had undergone a marked transformation. Its eastern and central

portions indeed remained unchanged; but the western half was utterly

metamorphosed. Its four great divisions had been virtually swept away,

and the whole land had become Angevin. In face of this altered state

of things, the remaining powers of northern Gaul were of necessity

driven into union, as a counterpoise to this enormous growth of Anjou;

and the only possible centre of union, alike in a political and a

geographical point of view, was the king of the French. He alone could

claim to match in rank and dignity the crowned masters of the west;

and under his leadership alone was it possible to face them all along

the line from the mouth of the Somme to the source of the Cher with a

front as unbroken as their own. The old Angevin march had ceased to

be a marchland at all; its original character was now transferred to

the counties of Chartres and Blois; while to north and south of these,

from Nonancourt to Aumale and along the whole course of the Cher above

Vierzon, the royal domain itself was the sole bulwark of north-eastern

Gaul against the advancing power of Anjou. To secure Chartres and Blois

was the first necessity for the king: but their counts needed his

protection even more than he needed their fidelity, for the whole width

of his domains parted them from Champagne, where the bulk of their

strength lay. Accordingly Louis VII., by the matrimonial alliances

which he formed first for his daughters and lastly for himself with the

house of Blois and Champagne, easily succeeded in binding them to a

community of personal interests with the royal house of France, whereby

their subservience to the French Crown was for the future secured. The

chain was too strong to be broken by the boyish wilfulness of Philip

Augustus; and from the moment of his reconciliation with his mother and

uncles in 1180, the whole military and political strength of Blois,

Chartres and Champagne may be reckoned at his command as unreservedly

as that of his own immediate domains.

Since that time, the royal power had made an important advance to the

northward. At the opening of Philip’s reign the dominions of the count

of Flanders stretched from the Channel to the borders of Champagne,

covered the whole northern frontier of the royal domain, and touched

that of Normandy at its junction with Ponthieu. Twelve years later,

more than half this territory had passed, either by cession or by

conquest, into the hands of the king. Vermandois was given up to him

in 1186; and in 1191 the death of the Flemish count Philip made him

master of all Flanders south of the river Lys, which had been promised

to him as the dowry of his first queen, Elizabeth of Hainaut, niece

of the dead count and daughter of his successor.[1805] This was in

several respects a most valuable acquisition. Not only did it bring to

the Crown a considerable accession of territory, including the whole

upper valley of the Somme, the famous fortress of Péronne, and the

flourishing towns of Amiens and Arras; but the power of Flanders, which

a few years before had threatened to overshadow every other power in

northern Gaul, was completely broken; and the effect upon the political

position of Normandy was more important still. While Vermandois and

Amiens were in Flemish hands, a league between the Flemish count and

the ruler of Normandy would at any moment not only place the whole

north-western border of France at their mercy, but would enable them to

call in the forces of the imperial Crown to a junction which the French

king could have no power to hinder, and which must almost certainly

lead to his ruin. Now, on the other hand, such a junction was rendered

well-nigh impossible; the whole territory between Normandy, Ponthieu

and the German border was in the king’s own hands, and all that was

left of Flanders lay in almost complete isolation between the Lys and

the sea. In fine, as the dukes of Burgundy had for several generations

been obedient followers of their royal kinsmen, now that Blois,

Champagne and Vermandois were all secured, the power and influence of

the French Crown north of the Loire was fully a match in territorial

extent for that of the house of Anjou. South of the Loire the balance

was less equal. The extensive possessions of the house of S. Gilles may

indeed be left out of both scales; their homage for Toulouse was now

secured to the dukes of Aquitaine, but it was a mere formality which

left them practically still independent of both their rival overlords.

It was indeed at the expense of Toulouse that the Angevin rulers of

Poitou had made their last conquest, that of the Quercy. But since

then the French king, too, had been gaining territory in Aquitaine; and

his gains were made at the expense of the Poitevin duke. Richard had

found it needful to buy Philip’s assent to his peaceful entrance upon

his ancestral heritage after his father’s death by a renunciation of

all claims upon Auvergne and a cession of two important lordships in

Berry, Graçay and Issoudun.[1806] The sacrifice was trifling in itself,

but it was significant. It marked Richard’s own consciousness that a

turning-point had come in the career of his house. Hitherto they had

gone steadily forward; now it was time to draw back. The aggressive

attitude which had been habitual to the counts of Anjou for nearly

three hundred years must be dropped at last. Henceforth they were to

stand on the defensive in their turn against the advance of the French

Crown.

[1805] See above, p. 234, note 7{1115}.

[1806] Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.) p.

29. Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 75.

It was not the strength of that advance itself which made it so

formidable to Richard; it was the knowledge that, side by side with

the process of consolidation in France, there had been and still was

going on in the Angevin dominions a process of disintegration which

his father had been unable to check, and against which he himself

was well-nigh helpless. The French monarchy was built up around one

definite centre, a centre round which all the subordinate parts of the

structure grouped themselves unquestioningly as a matter of course.

Paris and its king, even when his practical authority was at the

lowest ebb, had always been in theory the accepted rallying-point of

the whole kingdom, the acknowledged head of the body politic, none of

whose members had ever dreamed of establishing any other in its place.

But the empire of Richard Cœur-de-Lion had no centre; or rather, it

had three or four rival ones. In Angevin eyes its centre was Angers;

in Norman eyes it was Rouen; to the men of the south, it was Poitiers.

Even Henry Fitz-Empress had felt at times the difficulty of fulfilling

two such opposite parts as those of duke of Normandy and count of

Anjou without rousing the jealous resentment of either country against

himself as the representative of the other; while as for Britanny

and Aquitaine, he had only been able to keep an uncertain hold over

them by sheer force, until Britanny was appeased by the marriage of

Constance, and Aquitaine subdued by the vigour of Richard. But for

Richard in his father’s place the difficulty was far greater. Chafe

as they might against the yoke which bound them together--dispute as

they might over their respective shares in their common ruler and their

respective claims upon him--neither Angevin nor Norman could fail to

recognize his own natural sovereign and national representative in

the son of Geoffrey and Matilda. But the chances of this recognition

being extended to the next generation expired with the young king.

If the two Henrys were strangers in Britanny and in Aquitaine, yet

on the banks of the Seine, the Loire and the Mayenne they were felt

to be at home. But Richard was at home nowhere, though he was master

everywhere, from the Solway to the Pyrenees. His Aquitanian subjects

for the most part, if they counted him as a fellow-countryman, counted

him none the less as an enemy; his subjects north of Loire counted him

as a southern stranger. Normans and Angevins still saw in him, as they

had been taught to see in him for the first twenty-six years of his

life, the representative not of Hrolf and William or of Fulk the Red

and Geoffrey Martel, but simply of his mother’s Poitevin ancestors.

The Bretons saw in him the son of their conqueror, asserting his

supremacy over them and their young native prince only by the right

of the stronger. As Suger had laid it down as an axiom, more than

half a century ago, that “Englishmen ought not to rule over Frenchmen

nor French over English,” so now we begin to discern growing up in

Richard’s continental dominions a feeling that Normans should not rule

over Angevins, nor Angevins over Normans, nor either over Bretons and

Poitevins, nor Poitevins over any of the rest; and that if one and all

must needs submit to the loss of their ancient independence, it would

be more natural and less humiliating to lay it down at the feet of the

prince who had always been acknowledged in theory as the superior of

all alike, the king of the French.

This feeling, however, had scarcely come into existence, much less

risen to the surface of politics, when Philip Augustus came home from

the Crusade at Christmas 1191. It is scarcely probable that any plan

of actual conquest had as yet taken shape in Philip’s mind. But the

very audacity of the demand which he made upon the credulity of the

Norman constables when in the following spring he asked them to believe

that Richard had ceded to him not only the whole Vexin, but also the

counties of Aumale and Eu--a cession for which there was not a shadow

of reason either in past history or in present circumstances, and which

if carried into effect would have cut off the Norman communications

with Ponthieu and Flanders, and given him at once a foothold upon

the Channel and an invaluable coign of vantage for an attempt upon

Rouen--seems to indicate that he was already forming some more definite

design against the Angevins’ power than the simple system of lying

in wait to steal from them any territorial or political advantage

that could be stolen with impunity, with which he, like his father,

had hitherto been content. The terms of his treaty with John in the

following year point still more strongly in the same direction. As the

price of John’s investiture with the rest of his brother’s dominions,

Philip reserved to himself the whole Norman territory on the right bank

of the Seine, except the city of Rouen; on the left bank, nearly half

the viscounty of Evreux, including the castles of Vaudreuil, Verneuil

and Ivry; and from the older Angevin patrimony, all that was most

worth having in Touraine--Tours itself, Azay, Montbazon, Montrichard,

Amboise and Loches--besides the transfer of the Angevin fiefs in

the Vendômois from the count of Anjou to the count of Blois.[1807]

Owing to the disorganized state of Richard’s dominions caused by his

captivity, Philip’s endeavours to carry this bargain into effect by

conquering Normandy in John’s interest and his own met for a while

with considerable success. His first attempt at invasion was indeed

repulsed by the Norman barons under the leadership of Earl Robert of

Leicester;[1808] but a few weeks later treason opened to him the gates

of Gisors and Neaufle; the rest of the Vexin was easily won,[1809] and

secured thus against attack in his rear, he marched northward to the

capture of Aumale and Eu.[1810] Thence he turned back to besiege Rouen,

but soon retreated again into his own territories,[1811] taking Pacy

and Ivry on his way.[1812] In July, finding that, according to his own

phrase, the Angevin demon was after all to be let loose upon him once

more, he thought it advisable to accept Richard’s overtures of peace;

and Richard on his part--being still in prison--deemed it wise for the

moment to sanction the French king’s recent conquests in Normandy and

the liberation of Ademar of Angoulême, and also to let Philip have

temporary possession of Loches, Châtillon-sur-Indre, Driencourt and

Arques, as pledges for the payment of twenty thousand marks, due within

two years of his own release.[1813]

[1807] Treaty in Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 57.

[1808] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 205.

[1809] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 206. Will. Newb., l.

iv. c. 34 (Howlett, vol. i. pp. 389, 390). Rigord (Duchesne,

_Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 36. Will. Armor. _Gesta

Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 77.

[1810] Will. Newb. as above (p. 390).

[1811] _Ibid._ Rog. Howden, as above. Cf. Chron. Rothom., a.

1193 (Labbe, _Nova Biblioth._, vol. i. p. 369).

[1812] Will. Newb. as above.

[1813] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 217–220. These were apparently

the twenty thousand marks promised in 1189 and not yet paid.

Whether he intended to keep or to break these engagements is

practically no matter; for, if he meant to break them, Philip took care

to anticipate him. Seven months after the treaty was signed he again

crossed the Norman border, took Evreux,[1814] which he handed over to

John’s custody,[1815] and marched up by way of Neubourg and Vaudreuil,

both of which he captured, to besiege Rouen. Thence, however, he again

retired--scared, it may be, by tidings of Richard’s approach--and

hurrying back to the southern border laid siege to Verneuil on May

10.[1816] Two days later Richard landed at Barfleur,[1817] and by the

end of another fortnight he was encamped at L’Aigle,[1818] within a

few miles of Verneuil. His presence there, coupled with the defection

of John who had contrived to join him on the road,[1819] and the

surprise and slaughter of the French garrison of Evreux by a body

of Norman troops,[1820] alarmed Philip so much that on Whitsun Eve,

May 28, he again fled into his own dominions.[1821] Richard was busy

strengthening the walls of Verneuil when tidings came to him that “the

Angevins and Cenomannians” were besieging Montmirail,[1822] a castle

on the borders of Perche and Maine, famous as the scene of a stormy

conference between Henry II. and S. Thomas. Who the besiegers actually

were, or what was the ground of their hostility either to William

of Montmirail[1823] or to his overlord King Richard, must remain

undecided. It is plain, however, that in Richard’s ears the tidings

sounded as a warning of disaffection in his patrimonial dominions.

He hurried to the relief of Montmirail, but found it levelled with

the ground.[1824] He wasted no time in pursuit of its destroyers, but

pushed on direct to Tours, took up his quarters in Châteauneuf,[1825]

and shewed his suspicions concerning the origin of the new mischief by

driving the canons of S. Martin out of the abbey where they dwelt under

the special protection of the French king.[1826] The burghers, on the

other hand, made proof of their loyalty by a free-will offering of two

thousand marks.[1827] Determined now to redeem his pledges to Philip

not with gold but with steel, Richard marched on to Beaulieu,[1828] to

join a body of Navarrese and Brabantines, sent by his brother-in-law

Sancho of Navarre, in blockading the castle of Loches;[1829] a few

days after his arrival, on June 13, it was surrendered by its French

garrison.[1830] He was however standing between two fires. Bertrand de

Born was again stirring up the south, singing and fighting ostensibly

in Richard’s interest against his disaffected neighbours in the

Limousin, but in reality kindling into a fresh blaze all the reckless

passions and endless feuds which had been smouldering too long for the

warrior-poet’s pleasure.[1831] Philip meanwhile was again threatening

Rouen;[1832] the Norman archbishop and seneschal attempted to negotiate

with him in Richard’s name, but without result;[1833] and at the end of

the month he marched southward to meet Richard himself. On July 4 the

two kings were within a few miles of each other--Richard at Vendôme,

Philip at Fréteval.[1834] What followed is told so diversely by the

English and French historians of the time that it seems impossible

to reconcile the rival accounts or to decide between them. All that

we know for certain is that Philip suddenly struck his tents and

withdrew into the territories of the count of Blois; that Richard set

off in pursuit, missed Philip himself, but fell at unawares upon the

troops who were convoying his baggage towards Blois, routed them, and

captured all the French king’s most precious possessions, including

his royal seal and the treasury-rolls of the whole kingdom, besides

a number of valuable horses, an immense quantity of money and plate,

and--what would be scarcely less useful to Richard for political

purposes--the charters of agreement between Philip and all the Norman,

Angevin and Poitevin rebels who had plotted treason with him and John

against their lord.[1835]

[1814] Will. Newb. as above, c. 40 (p. 403). Rigord (as above),

p. 37. Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ as above; _Philipp._, l.

iv. (_ibid._) p. 143.

[1815] Will. Armor. _Philipp._ as above.

[1816] Rigord as above. Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ as

above. Cf. _Philipp._ as above; Rog. Howden (as above), pp.

251, 252; R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 114, 115; and Will.

Newb., l. v. c. 2 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 418). The date of the

siege of Verneuil comes from Rog. Howden.

[1817] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 251. R. Diceto

(Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 114.

[1818] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 2 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 418).

[1819] Rog. Howden (as above), p. 252. R. Diceto, as above,

says they met “apud Bruis.”

[1820] This is all that Rigord says about the disaster

(Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v. p. 37). In the

hands of the poet William of Armorica it becomes a horrible

romance, wherein John, as commandant of Evreux, invites the

unsuspecting Frenchmen to a banquet, and then brings in his

“armed Englishmen” to massacre them (_Philipp._, l. iv.,

_ib._ p. 143; _Gesta Phil. Aug._, _ib._ p. 77). John has so

many undoubted crimes to answer for that it probably seemed

a mere trifle to add one more to the list, but for that very

reason one cannot admit it on the sole testimony of the

poet-historiographer. The English writers say nothing of the

whole matter.

[1821] Rog. Howden and Will. Newb. as above. R. Diceto (as

above), p. 115. Cf. Rigord and Will. Armor. as above.

[1822] “Andegavenses et Cenomannenses” says Rog. Howden as

above. R. Diceto (as above), p. 116, has “Andegavenses” only;

the Chron. S. Albin. a. 1192 (Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 49), has

“Andegavenses et alii.”

[1823] William “Gohet” as R. Diceto calls him; _i.e._ (see

Bishop Stubbs’s note, _ibid._), “William of Perche Gouet,

Goeth, or le petit Perche.”

[1824] Rog. Howden as above. R. Diceto as above, p. 117. Cf.

Chron. S. Albin. a. 1192 (as above).

[1825] R. Diceto as above.

[1826] Rigord (Duchesne), _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v. p.

38.

[1827] “Dono spontaneo,” Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p.

252; “nullâ coactione præmissâ,” R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii.

p. 117. The “burgenses” in question, as appears from R. Diceto,

were those of Châteauneuf, not the _cives_ of Tours proper.

[1828] R. Diceto as above.

[1829] Rog. Howden (as above), pp. 252, 253.

[1830] _Ib._ p. 253 (with the date). R. Diceto as above. Cf.

Chron. S. Albin. a. 1192 (Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 49).

[1831] Clédat, _Bert. de Born_, pp. 83, 84.

[1832] Rog. Howden as above, p. 253. R. Diceto, p. 116.

[1833] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 253–255.

[1834] R. Diceto as above.

[1835] Cf. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 255, 256; R.

Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 117, 118; Will. Newb., l. v.

c. 2 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 419); Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist.

Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 38; Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil.

Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 77; _Philipp._, l. iv. (_ibid._), p. 144;

and Chron. S. Albin. a. 1192 (Marchegay, _Eglises_, p. 49).

Rog. Howden alone mentions the charters, and Will. Armor. the

treasury-rolls and seal.

The repairing of this disaster gave Philip sufficient occupation

for the rest of the year, and Richard was free to march upon the

Aquitanian rebels. Sancho of Navarre was already wasting the lands of

the ringleaders, Geoffrey of Rancogne and Ademar of Angoulême;[1836]

and by July 22 Richard was able to report to his justiciar in England

that he was master of all the castles of the Angoumois and all the

lands of Geoffrey.[1837] From Angoulême he marched northward again,

took measures for the security of Anjou and Maine,[1838] and then

returned to Normandy, where he found that his representatives, headed

by the chancellor, had just concluded a truce with the French king

to last till All Saints’ day[1839]--a proceeding which served him

as the pretext for that withdrawal of the seal from William and

repudiation of all engagements made under it, which has been mentioned

already.[1840] No further movement was however made by either party

until the spring. Then the wearisome story of fruitless negotiations

alternating with indecisive warfare begins again, and goes on

unceasingly for the next four years. Save for an occasional attempt to

make a diversion in Berry, the actual fighting between the two kings

was confined to the Norman border.[1841] Normandy was the chief object

of Philip’s attack, partly no doubt because, owing to its geographical

position, he could invade it with more ease and less risk than any

other part of Richard’s dominions, but also because it was the key

to all the rest. A French conquest of Normandy would sever Richard’s

communications not only with Flanders and Germany, but also with

England; and the strength of the Angevins in Gaul now rested chiefly

upon the support of their island-realm. Neither assailant nor defender,

however, was able to gain any decisive advantage in the field. The

armed struggle between them was in fact of less importance than the

diplomatic rivalry which they carried on side by side with it; and in

this, strangely enough, Richard, who had hitherto shewn so little of

the far-sighted statecraft and political tact of his race, proved more

than a match for his wily antagonist.

[1836] R. Diceto as above, p. 117. Will. Newb. as above.

[1837] Letter of Richard to Hubert Walter (date, Angoulême,

July 22) in Rog. Howden as above, pp. 256, 257. Cf. R. Diceto

as above, pp. 118, 119. Will. Newb. as above (p. 420).

[1838] “Rediit in Andegaviam, et redemit omnes baillivos suos,

id est, ad redemptionem coegit. Similiter fecit in Cenomanniâ.”

Rog. Howden as above, p. 267. At Le Mans “convocavit magnates

omnes suæ jurisdictioni subpositos,” and apparently tried to

shame them into more active loyalty--or more liberal gifts--by

eulogy of their English brethren: “ubi fidem Anglorum in

adversitate suâ semper sibi gratiosam, integram et probabilem

plurimum commendavit.” R. Diceto as above, p. 119.

[1839] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 257–260. Cf. R. Diceto as

above, p. 120, and Will. Newb., l. v. c. 3 (as above). This

last gives a wrong date; that of the document in Rog. Howden is

July 23.

[1840] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 267. See above, p.

343.

[1841] It may be followed in Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii.

pp. 301–305, vol. iv. pp. 3–7, 14, 16, 19–21, 24, 54–61, 68,

78–81; Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), pp.

38–40, 42; Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), pp. 78,

79; _Philipp._, l. v. (_ib._), pp. 146–154.

That the foes in Richard’s own household should league themselves

against him with Philip, as he had done in earlier days against his

own father, was, so far as Richard himself is concerned, no more than

retributive justice. Philip’s alliance with John had proved a failure;

but it was not long before he saw a chance of securing a more useful

tool in the person of little Arthur of Britanny. English historians

tell us that when Richard and Philip made their treaty at Messina in

March 1191 Richard obtained a formal acknowledgement of his rights,

as duke of Normandy, to the overlordship of Britanny and the liege

homage of its duke.[1842] The text of the treaty of Messina, however,

contains not a word on this subject; the agreement, if made at all,

must have been drawn up in a separate form; and it seems to have

remained a dead letter, like another agreement made at the same place a

few months earlier--the treaty with Tancred whereby Richard had engaged

to recognize Arthur of Britanny as his successor in default of direct

heirs. Although after five years of marriage Queen Berengaria was

still childless, no such recognition had yet been made. Richard on his

return to Europe probably perceived that Arthur’s succession would be

impossible in England, and in Gaul would be fatal to the independence

of the Angevin house. Accordingly, he was once more doing all in

his power to win the attachment of John; and John, having at length

discovered that his own interests could be better served by supporting

his brother than by intriguing against him, proved an active and useful

ally in the war against Philip.[1843] On the other hand, Richard seems

never to have received Arthur’s homage for Britanny; and those who had

the control of political affairs in that country were determined that

he never should. The dispute between Henry and Philip for the wardship

of the two children of Geoffrey and Constance had apparently ended in

a compromise. Eleanor, the elder child, was now under the care of her

uncle Richard;[1844] but Constance seems to have succeeded in keeping

her infant boy out of the reach of both his would-be guardians, and,

moreover, in governing her duchy without any reference to either of

them, for nearly seven years after the death of her father-in-law King

Henry. She had been given in marriage by him, when scarcely twelve

months a widow, to Earl Ralf of Chester,[1845] son and successor of

Earl Hugh who had been one of the leaders in the revolt of 1173. As

the earls of Chester were hereditary viscounts of the Avranchin--the

border-district of Normandy and Britanny--this marriage would have

furnished an excellent means of securing the Norman hold upon the

Breton duchy, if only Ralf himself could have secured a hold upon his

wife. In this however he completely failed. Safe in her hereditary

dominions, with her boy at her side, and strong in the support of

her people rejoicing in their newly-regained independence, Constance

apparently set Ralf, Richard and Philip all alike at defiance, till in

1196 Richard summoned her to a conference with himself in Normandy,

and she set out to obey the summons. Scarcely had she touched the soil

of the Avranchin at Pontorson when she was caught by her husband and

imprisoned in his castle of S. James-de-Beuvron.[1846] It is hard not

to suspect that Richard and Ralf had plotted the capture between them;

for Richard, instead of insisting upon her release, at once renewed

his claim to the wardship of Arthur, and prepared to enforce it at

the sword’s point. The Bretons first hurried their young duke away to

the innermost fastnesses of their wild and desolate country under the

care of the bishop of Vannes,[1847] and then, after a vain attempt to

liberate his mother, intrusted him to the protection of the king of

France,[1848] who of course received him with open arms, and sent him

to be educated with his own son.[1849]

[1842] _Gesta Ric._ (Stubbs), p. 161. Rog. Howden (Stubbs),

vol. iii. pp. 99, 100.

[1843] See _e.g._ Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 5, 16, 60;

Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 38;

Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._), p. 77.

[1844] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. pp. 275, 278.

[1845] _Gesta Hen._ (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 29.

[1846] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 7.

[1847] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. v. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 149. Will. Newb., l. v. c. 18 (Howlett,

vol. ii. pp. 463, 464).

[1848] Rog. Howden as above.

[1849] Will. Armor. as above.

Philip had now got the old Angevin patrimony between two fires; but

the Bretons were so little accustomed to act in concert even among

themselves, far less with any other power, that he found it impossible

to make any real use of them as allies either for military or political

purposes. The independent warfare which they carried on with Richard

across the south-western border of Normandy[1850] had little effect

upon that which Richard and Philip were carrying on along its eastern

border; and upon the Angevin lands which lay directly between Britanny

and France the Breton revolt had no effect at all. To the end of

Richard’s life, we hear of no further troubles in Maine or Anjou.

Nay more, we hear of no further troubles in Aquitaine. If Philip

had in some sense turned Richard’s flank in the west, Richard had

turned Philip’s flank far more effectually in the south. The unwonted

tranquillity there may indeed have been partly due to the fact that

one of the chief sources of disturbance was removed in 1196 by the

withdrawal of Bertrand de Born into a monastery;[1851] but it was also

in great measure owing to Richard’s quickness in seizing an opportunity

which presented itself, in that same eventful year, of forming a

lasting alliance with the house of Toulouse. His old enemy Count

Raymond V. was dead;[1852] he now offered the hand of his own favourite

sister, the still young and handsome Queen Jane of Sicily, to the new

Count Raymond VI.;[1853] and thenceforth the eastern frontier of his

Aquitanian duchy was as secure under the protection of his sister’s

husband as its southern frontier under that of his wife’s brother, the

king of Navarre.

[1850] Will. Newb. as above, c. 30 (p. 491). Rog. Howden as

above.

[1851] Clédat, _Bert. de Born_, p. 92.

[1852] In 1194, according to Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 38.

[1853] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 13. Will. Newb., l. v.

c. 30 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 491). R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p.

70.

Nor were Richard’s alliances confined within the boundaries of Gaul.

His year of captivity in Germany had not been all wasted time. When

he parted from his imperial jailor in the spring of 1194, they were,

at any rate in outward semblance, close political allies; and at the

same time Richard had succeeded in gaining over his bitterest foe,

Leopold of Austria, by an offer of his niece Eleanor of Britanny as

wife to Leopold’s son.[1854] The marriage-contract was however not

yet executed when the Austrian duke met with a fatal accident and

died in agony, owning with his last breath that his miserable end was

a just retribution for his conduct towards the English king.[1855]

The impression made by this event deepened the feeling of respect and

awe which the captive lion had already contrived to inspire in the

princes of the Empire. Meanwhile Henry VI. had made himself master

of Sicily;[1856] and now the old dream by which the German Emperors

never quite ceased to be haunted, the dream of re-asserting their

imperial supremacy over Gaul, was beginning to shape itself anew in

his brain. In the summer of 1195 he sent to Richard a golden crown

and a message charging him, on his plighted faith to the Emperor and

on the very lives of his hostages, to invade the French kingdom at

once, and promising him the support and co-operation of the imperial

forces. Richard, suspecting a trap, despatched William of Longchamp

to inquire into the exact nature, extent and security of Henry’s

promised assistance; Philip vainly tried to intercept the envoy as he

passed through the royal domains;[1857] and the negotiations proved

so far effectual that Henry remitted seventeen thousand marks out of

the ransom, as a contribution to Richard’s expenses in his struggle

with Philip.[1858] When, on Michaelmas Eve 1197, Henry VI. died,[1859]

the use of that homage on Richard’s part which his English subjects

had resented so bitterly was made apparent to them at last. While the

English king was holding his Christmas court at Rouen there came to him

an embassy from the princes of Germany, summoning him, as chief among

the lay members of the Empire[1860] by virtue of his investiture with

the kingdom of Arles, to take part with them in the election of a new

Emperor at Cöln on February 22.[1861] Richard himself could not venture

to leave Gaul; but the issue proved that his presence at Cöln was not

needed to secure his interests there. He wished that the imperial crown

should be given to his nephew Duke Henry of Saxony, eldest son and

successor of Henry the Lion. This scheme, however, when laid before the

other electors by the envoys whom he sent to represent him at Cöln,

was rejected on account of the duke’s absence in Holy Land.[1862] The

representatives of the English king then proposed Henry’s brother

Otto, for whom Richard had long been vainly endeavouring to find

satisfactory provision on either side of the sea,[1863] and who seems

really to have been his favourite nephew. The result was that, on the

appointed day, Otto was elected Emperor of the Romans,[1864] and on

July 12 he was crowned king of the Germans at Aachen by the archbishop

of Cöln.[1865]

[1854] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 273. See above, p.

325.

[1855] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 276, 277. R. Diceto (Stubbs),

vol. ii. p. 124. Will. Newb. as above, c. 8 (pp. 431–434). R.

Coggeshall (Stevenson), pp. 65, 66.

[1856] In the autumn of 1194. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii.

pp. 268–270. Cf. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 123, 124.

[1857] Rog. Howden (as above), pp. 300, 301.

[1858] _Ib._ pp. 303, 304.

[1859] _Ib._ vol. iv. p. 31.

[1860] “Sicut præcipuum membrum imperii.” _Ib._ p. 37.

[1861] _Ibid._

[1862] _Ib._ pp. 37, 38.

[1863] He appointed him earl of York in 1190, but as the grant

was made after the king left England, some of the Yorkshire

folk doubted its genuineness, and Otto never succeeded in

obtaining possession. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 86.

The elaborate scheme for his endowment in the north, projected

in 1195, has already been mentioned (above, p. 341). This

having also failed, Richard in 1196 gave him the investiture

of Poitou. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 7; cf. _ib._ vol.

iii. p. 86, and R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 70.

[1864] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 37–39. R. Diceto

(Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 163.

[1865] R. Diceto as above.

For a moment, at the mere prospect of beholding a grandson of Henry

Fitz-Empress seated upon the imperial throne of the west, there had

flashed across the mind of at least one friend of the Angevin house

a fancy that the world-wide dominion which seemed to be passing away

from the heirs of Fulk the Good was to be renewed for yet one more

generation.[1866] There was indeed an opposition party in Germany,

who set up a rival Emperor in the person of Philip of Suabia, a

brother of Henry VI.;[1867] and he at once made common cause with

his French namesake.[1868] This Suabian alliance, however, and the

support of the count of Ponthieu--purchased two years before with the

hand of the unhappy Adela, whom Richard had at last restored to her

brother[1869]--could not much avail Philip Augustus against such a

league as was now gathering around the English king. The vast sums

which Hubert Walter had been sending, year after year, to his royal

master over sea were bringing a goodly interest at last. Flanders,

Britanny, Champagne, had all been secretly detached from the French

alliance and bought over to the service of Richard;[1870] the Flemish

count had already drawn Philip into a war in which he narrowly escaped

being made prisoner;[1871] and in the summer of 1198, when the imperial

election was over, not only Baldwin of Flanders, Reginald of Boulogne,

Baldwin of Guines, Henry of Louvain, Everard of Brienne, Geoffrey of

Perche and Raymond of Toulouse, but even the young count Louis of

Blois and the boy-duke Arthur of Britanny himself, one and all leagued

themselves in an offensive and defensive alliance with Richard against

the French king.[1872] The immediate consequence was that Philip

begged Hubert Walter, who being just released from his justiciarship

had rejoined his sovereign in Normandy, to make peace for him with

Richard; and he even went so far as to offer the surrender of all

the Norman castles which he had won, except Gisors. Richard however

would listen to no terms in which his allies were not included.[1873]

At last, in November, a truce was made, to last till the usual term,

S. Hilary’s day.[1874] When it expired the two kings held a colloquy

on the Seine between Vernon and Les Andelys, Richard in a boat on

the river, Philip on horseback on the shore;[1875] this meeting was

followed by another, where, by the mediation of a cardinal-legate,

Peter of Capua, who had lately arrived in Gaul, they were persuaded to

prolong their truce for five years.[1876]

[Illustration: Plan VII.

LES ANDELYS AND CHATEAU-GAILLARD.

(From Deville, “Histoire du Château-Gaillard”)

Wagner & Debes’ Geogˡ. Estabᵗ. Leipsic. London, Macmillan & Co.

]

[1866] R. Diceto tells the story of the prophecy made to Fulk

the Good in two places; in the _Abbreviationes Historiarum_

(Stubbs, vol. i. p. 149) and in the _Opuscula_ (vol. ii. pp.

267, 268). In the latter place he adds: “Quod quondam probavit

regnum Jerosolimitanum; quod adhuc ostendit regnum Anglorum;

quod suo tempore declarabit Romanum imperium.” This, as Bishop

Stubbs notes, “looks like an anticipation of the election

of Otto IV. to the empire.... As Bishop Longchamp died in

1197, before which date we must suppose MS. R to have been

written” [the MS. from which the _Opuscula_ are printed, and

which begins with a dedication to William of Longchamp], “it

can scarcely be a prophecy after the event.” As William of

Longchamp died January 31, 1197 (R. Diceto, vol. ii. p. 150;

February 1 according to Gerv. Cant., Stubbs, vol. i. p. 543),

it seems indeed to shew that the possibility of one or other

of Richard’s nephews becoming Emperor at the next vacancy was

already in contemplation more than eight months before the

death of Henry VI. Or was Ralf dreaming rather of a transfer of

the imperial crown to Richard himself? for it is to be observed

that Otto can be included within the “nine generations” only

by excluding from them Fulk the Good himself; but this mode of

computing would fail if applied to the eastern branch of the

Angevin house, where it would give only eight generations, so

that we can hardly suppose it to have been adopted by Ralf.

According to R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 88, and Gerv. Cant.

as above, p. 545, a party among the electors actually did

choose Richard, and--much more strangely--another party chose

Philip of France.

[1867] Rog. Howden as above, p. 39.

[1868] Treaty in Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 70; date,

June 29 [1197].

[1869] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iii. p. 303. Rigord

(Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 38. Will.

Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (_ibid._) p. 77.

[1870] Cf. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 19, R. Coggeshall

(Stevenson), p. 77, and Will. Newb., l. v. c. 32 (Howlett, vol.

ii. p. 495). Richard’s treaty with Flanders is in R. Diceto

(Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 152, 153, and Rymer, as above, pp. 67,

68; it has no date, but as R. Diceto (as above, p. 158) tells

us that it was drawn up by Hubert Walter, and also that Hubert

was in Gaul from September 14 (or 28, according to Gerv. Cant.,

Stubbs, vol. i. p. 574) to November 8 [1197], it must fall in

that interval.

[1871] Rog. Howden as above, pp. 20, 21. Will. Newb. as above.

R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), pp. 77, 78.

[1872] Rog. Howden as above, p. 54.

[1873] _Ib._ p. 61.

[1874] _Ib._ p. 68.

[1875] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 79, 80.

[1876] _Ib._ p. 80. Rigord (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._,

vol. v.), p. 42.

Yet all the while, there lurked in Richard’s heart a misgiving that,

in the last resort, his diplomacy would prove to have been in vain;

that, strive as he might to turn away the tide of war from his own

borders by stirring up north and east and south to overwhelm the Crown

of France, still, after all, the day must come when the Angevins would

have to stake their political existence solely upon their own military

resources, and to stand at bay, unaided, unsupported, alone, behind

whatever bulwark they might be able to devise by their own military

genius. It was the genius and the foresight of Richard himself which

insured that when the crisis came, the bulwark was ready, even though

it were doomed to prove unavailing in the end. The last and mightiest

of the many mighty fortresses reared by Angevin hands since the first

great builder of the race had begun his castle-building in the Loire

valley was the Château-Gaillard, the “saucy castle” of Richard the

Lion-heart. He “fixed its site where the Seine bends suddenly at

Gaillon in a great semicircle to the north, and where the valley of

Les Andelys breaks the line of the chalk cliffs along its banks. Blue

masses of woodland crown the distant hills; within the river curve

lies a dull reach of flat meadow, round which the Seine, broken with

green islets and dappled with the grey and blue of the sky, flashes

like a silver bow on its way to Rouen.”[1877] Some three-quarters of a

league from the right bank of the river, in a valley opening upon it

from the eastward and watered by the little stream of Gambon, stood

the town of Andely. Between the town and the river stretched a lake,

or rather perhaps a marsh,[1878] through which the Gambon and another

lesser rivulet descending from the hills to the north of Andely found

their way by two separate issues into the Seine, nearly opposite two

islets, of which the larger and more northerly was known as the Isle

of Andely.[1879] The space enclosed between the three rivers and the

marsh seems to have been a tract of waste land, occupied only by a

toll-house for the collection of dues from the vessels passing up and

down the Seine[1880]--dues which formed one of the most important items

in the revenue of the archbishop of Rouen, to whom Andely and its

neighbourhood belonged.[1881] Over against this spot, on the southern

bank of the Gambon, in the angle formed by its junction with the Seine,

a mass of limestone crag rose abruptly to the height of three hundred

feet. Its western side, almost perpendicular, looked down upon the

great river, the northern, scarcely less steep, over the Gambon and

the lake beyond; to the north-east and south-west its rocky slopes

died down into deep ravines, and only a narrow neck of land at its

south-eastern extremity connected it with the lofty plateau covered

with a dense woodland known as the Forest of Andely, which stretches

along the eastern side of the Seine valley between Andely and Gaillon.

One glance at the site was enough to rivet a soldier’s gaze. If,

instead of the metropolitan church of Normandy, a lay baron had owned

the soil of Andely, we may be sure that long ago that lofty brow would

have received its fitting crown; if the power of Fulk the Builder had

reached to the banks of the Seine, we may doubt whether the anathemas

of the Norman primate would not have availed as little to wrest such a

spot from his grasp as those of the archbishop of Tours had availed to

wrest from him the site of Montrichard. But a greater castle-builder

than Fulk Nerra himself was the architect of Château-Gaillard.

[1877] I copy Mr. Green’s picture, _Hist. of the English

People_, vol. i. p. 187.

[1878] Now dried up. See Deville, _Hist. du Château-Gaillard_,

pp. 27, 28.

[1879] “Est locus Andelii qui nunc habet insula nomen.” Will.

Armor. _Philipp._, l. vii. v. 29 (Deville, _Château-Gaillard_,

p. 126; Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v. p. 169).

[1880] See a charter of Archbishop Malger (11th century) and

one of Pope Eugene III., a. 1148, quoted in Deville as above,

p. 26, note 2.

[1881] The archbishops seem to have looked upon Andely as

their most profitable territorial possession; Rotrou called it

his “unicum vivendi subsidium” (Rotr. Ep. xxiv., _Rer. Gall.

Scriptt._, vol. xvi. p. 632); Walter called it “patrimonium

ecclesiæ solum et unicum” (R. Diceto, Stubbs, vol. ii. p. 148).

Richard’s historical connexion with the “rock of Andely” has its

ill-omened beginning in a ghastly story of the fate of three French

prisoners whom he flung from its summit into the ravine below, in

vengeance for the slaughter of some Welsh auxiliaries who had been

surprised and cut to pieces by the French king’s troops in the

neighbouring valley.[1882] By the opening of 1196, however, he had

devised for it a more honourable use. In a treaty with Philip, drawn

up in January of that year, the fief of Andely was made the subject of

special provisions whereby it was reserved as a sort of neutral zone

between the territories of the two kings, and a significant clause was

added: “Andely shall not be fortified.”[1883] As by the same treaty the

older bulwarks of Normandy--Nonancourt, Ivry, Pacy, Vernon, Gaillon,

Neufmarché, Gisors--were resigned into Philip’s hands, this clause,

if strictly fulfilled, would have left the Seine without a barrier

and Rouen at the mercy of the French king. The agreement in short,

like all those which bore the signatures of Philip and Richard, was

made only to be broken; both parties broke it without delay; and while

Philip was forming his league with the Bretons for the ruin of Anjou,

Richard was tracing out in the valley of the Gambon and on the rock of

Andely the plan of a line of fortifications which were to interpose

an insurmountable barrier between his Norman capital and the French

invader. His first act was to seize the Isle of Andely.[1884] Here he

built a lofty octagonal tower, encircled by a ditch and rampart, and

threw a bridge over the river from each side of the island, linking it

thus to either shore.[1885] On the right, beyond the eastern bridge, he

traced out the walls of a new town, which took the name of the New or

the Lesser Andely,[1886] a secure stronghold whose artificial defences

of ramparts and towers were surrounded by the further protection of the

lake on its eastern side, the Seine on the west, and the two lesser

rivers to north and south, a bridge spanning each of these two little

streams forming the sole means of access from the mainland.[1887]

The southern bridge, that over the Gambon, linked this New Andely

with the foot of the rock which was to be crowned with the mightiest

work of all. Richard began by digging out to a yet greater depth the

ravines which parted this rock from the surrounding heights, so as to

make it wholly inaccessible save by the one connecting isthmus at its

south-eastern extremity. On its summit, which formed a plateau some six

hundred feet in length and two hundred in breadth at the widest part,

he reared a triple fortress. The outer ward consisted of a triangular

enclosure; its apex, facing the isthmus already mentioned, was crowned

by a large round tower,[1888] with walls ten feet in thickness; the

extremities of its base were strengthened by similar towers, and two

smaller ones broke the line of the connecting curtain-wall. This

was surrounded by a ditch dug in the rock to a depth of more than

forty feet, and having a perpendicular counterscarp. Fronting the

base of this outer fortress across the ditch on its north-western

side was a rampart surmounted by a wall ninety feet long and eight

feet thick, also flanked by two round towers; from these a similar

wall ran all round the edges of the plateau, where the steep sides

of the rock itself took the place of rampart and ditch. The wall on

the south-west side--the river-front--was broken by another tower,

cylindrical without, octagonal within; and its northern extremity

was protected by two mighty rectangular bastions. Close against one

of these stood a round tower, which served as the base of a third

enclosure, the heart and citadel of the whole fortress. Two-thirds

of its elliptical outline, on the east and south, were formed by a

succession of semicircular bastions, or segments of towers, seventeen

in number, each parted from its neighbour by scarcely more than

two feet of curtain-wall--an arrangement apparently imitated from the

fortress of Cherbourg, which was accounted the greatest marvel of

military architecture in Normandy, until its fame was eclipsed by that

of Richard’s work.[1889] This portion of the enclosure was built upon

a rampart formed by the excavation of a ditch about fifteen to twenty

feet in width; the counterscarp, like that of the outer ditches, was

perpendicular; and a series of casemates cut in the rock ran along on

this side for a distance of about eighty feet. On the western side of

the citadel stood the keep, a mighty circular tower, with walls of

the thickness of twelve feet, terminating at an angle of twenty feet

in depth where it projected into the enclosure; it had two or perhaps

three stages,[1890] and was lighted by two great arched windows, whence

the eye could range at will over the wooded hills and dales of the

Vexin, or the winding course of the river broadening onward to Rouen.

Behind the keep was placed the principal dwelling-house, and under this

a staircase cut out of the rock gave access to an underground passage

leading to some outworks and a tower near the foot of the hill, whence

a wall was carried down to the river-bank, just beyond the northern

extremity of a long narrow island known as the “isle of the Three

Kings”--doubtless from some one of the many meetings held in this

district by Louis VII. or Philip Augustus and the two Henrys.[1891] The

river itself was barred by a double stockade, crossing its bed from

shore to shore.[1892]

[Illustration: Plan VIII.

CHATEAU-GAILLARD

(From Deville, “Histoire du Château-Gaillard”).

Wagner & Debes’ Geogˡ. Estabᵗ. Leipsic. London, Macmillan & Co.

]

[1882] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. v. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 151.

[1883] Treaty in Rymer, _Fœdera_, vol. i. p. 66. For date see

Rigord (Duchesne as above), p. 39.

[1884] Letter of Walter of Rouen (a. 1196), R. Diceto (Stubbs),

vol. ii. pp. 148, 149. Cf. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p.

14, and Will. Newb., l. v. c. 34 (Howlett, vol. ii. p. 499).

[1885] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. vii. vv. 29–43 (Deville,

_Château-Gaillard_, p. 126; Duchesne as above, p. 169).

[1886] A poet of the thirteenth century, William Guiart, calls

it “le Nouvel-Andeli.” It is known now as “le Petit-Andely.”

Deville as above, p. 26.

[1887] Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._ (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 81. Deville, _Château-Gaillard_, p. 27.

[1888] Now known as “tour de la Monnaie.” Deville as above, p.

30, note 1.

[1889] See Deville, _Château-Gaillard_, p. 34, and the passage

there quoted from _Hist. Gaufr. Ducis_ (Marchegay, _Comtes

d’Anjou_, p. 300).

[1890] See Deville as above, p. 38, note 2.

[1891] _Ib._ p. 36. The island is now joined to the mainland;

_ib._ note 1.

[1892] For description see Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._

(Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 81;

_Philipp._, l. vii. vv. 48–85 (_ib._ pp. 169, 170; Deville as

above, pp. 126, 127), and Deville as above, pp. 25–40.

All this work was accomplished within a single year.[1893] Richard,

who had watched over its progress with unremitting care, broke into

an ecstasy of delight at its completion; he called his barons to see

“how fair a child was his, this child but a twelvemonth old”;[1894]

he called it his “saucy castle,” “Château-Gaillard,”[1895] and the

name which he thus gave it in jest soon replaced in popular speech

its more formal title of “the Castle on the Rock of Andely.”[1896]

The hardness of the rock out of which the fortifications were hewn

was not the sole obstacle against which the royal builder had had to

contend. Richard had no more thought than Fulk Nerra would have had of

asking the primate’s leave before beginning to build upon his land;

the work therefore was no sooner begun than Archbishop Walter lifted

up his protest against it; obtaining no redress, he laid Normandy

under interdict and carried his complaint in person to the Pope.[1897]

Richard at once sent envoys to appeal against the interdict and make

arrangements for the settlement of the dispute.[1898] Meanwhile,

however, he pushed on the building without delay. Like Fulk of old,

the seeming wrath of Heaven moved him as little as that of its earthly

representatives; a rain of blood which fell upon the workmen and

the king himself, though it scared all beside, failed to shake his

determination; “if an angel had come down out of the sky to bid him

stay his hand, he would have got no answer but a curse.”[1899] He

had now, however, made his peace with the Church; in the spring of

1197 he offered to the archbishop an exchange of land on terms highly

advantageous to the metropolitan see; and on this condition the Pope

raised the interdict in May of the same year.[1900] The exchange was

carried through on October 16,[1901] and ratified by John in a separate

charter, a step which seems to indicate that John was now recognized as

his brother’s heir.[1902]

[1893] That is, the castle on the rock, built 1197–1198. See

the story of the rain of blood in May 1198 (R. Diceto, Stubbs,

vol. ii. p. 162), which fixes its completion after that date.

The tower on the island and the Nouvel-Andely were the work of

the previous year, 1196–1197.

[1894] “Ecce quam pulcra filia unius anni!” J. Bromton,

Twysden, _X. Scriptt._, col. 1276.

[1895] “Totamque munitionem illam vocavit Gaillardum, quod

sonat in Gallico petulantiam.” Will. Armor. _Gesta Phil. Aug._

(Duchesne, _Hist. Franc. Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 81.

[1896] “Castrum” or “castellum de Rupe Andeleii” or

“Andeliaci,” it is called in the charters of Richard and John.

The first document in which it appears as “Château-Gaillard” is

a charter of S. Louis, “actum in Castro nostro Gaillard,” A.D.

1261; Deville, _Château-Gaillard_, p. 40. Will. Armor. however

uses the name, and other writers soon begin to copy him.

[1897] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 14. Cf. Will. Newb.,

l. v. c. 28 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 487, 488), R. Coggeshall

(Stevenson), p. 70, and Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs), vol. i. p. 544.

[1898] The envoys were William of Longchamp, William bishop of

Lisieux and Philip elect of Durham; Rog. Howden (as above), pp.

16, 17. They must have started early in 1197, for William of

Longchamp died on the journey, at Poitiers, on January 31 or

February 1; see above, p. 373, note 4{1866}.

[1899] Will. Newb., l. v. c. 34 (as above, p. 500). This is

William’s last sentence. R. Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. p. 162,

also tells of the portent, and gives its date, May 8, 1198.

[1900] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. pp. 17–19. Will. Newb.,

l. v. c. 34 (Howlett, vol. ii. pp. 499, 500).

[1901] Richard’s charter, of which Deville gives a fac-simile

in his _Château-Gaillard_, p. 18, and a printed copy in his

“pièces justificatives,” _ib._ pp. 113–118, is also in R.

Diceto (Stubbs), vol. ii. pp. 154–156. According to this last

writer (_ib._ pp. 158, 159), and Gerv. Cant. (Stubbs, vol. i.

p. 544), the settlement was due to the mediation of Archbishop

Hubert.

[1902] See Deville, as above, pp. 21, 22. John’s charter is in

the “pièces justificatives,” _ib._ pp. 119–123.

It was probably about the same time that the treaty with Flanders, the

corner-stone of the league which Richard was forming against the king

of France, was signed within the walls of the new fortress.[1903] Yet,

as has been already seen, the coalition was not fully organized till

late in the following summer; and even then the complicated weapon hung

fire. Want of money seems to have been Richard’s chief difficulty, now

as ever--a difficulty which after Hubert Walter’s defeat in the council

at Oxford and his resignation in the following July must have seemed

well-nigh insurmountable. At last, however, in the spring of 1199, a

ray of hope came from a quarter where it was wholly unexpected. Richard

was leading his mercenaries through Poitou to check the viscount of

Limoges and the count of Angoulême in a renewal of their treasonable

designs[1904] when he was met by rumours of a marvellous discovery

at Châlus in the Limousin. A peasant working on the land of Achard,

the lord of Châlus, was said to have turned up with his plough a

treasure[1905] which popular imagination pictured as nothing less than

“an emperor with his wife, sons and daughters, all of pure gold, and

seated round a golden table.”[1906] In vain did Achard seek to keep

his secret and his prize to himself. Treasure-trove was a right of the

overlord, and it seems to have been at once claimed by the viscount

Ademar of Limoges, as Achard’s immediate superior. His claim, however,

had to give way to that of his own overlord, King Richard; but when

he sent to the king the share which he had himself wrung from Achard,

Richard indignantly rejected it, vowing that he would have all. This

Achard and Ademar both refused, and the king laid siege to Châlus.[1907]

[1903] R. Diceto (as above), p. 153.

[1904] Rog. Howden as above, p. 80, says merely that Richard

was on his way to Poitou. R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 94,

says he was marching against the viscount of Limoges, to

punish him for a treasonable alliance with the French king.

The writer of the _Mag. Vita S. Hug._ (Dimock), p. 280, says

“expeditionem direxerat adversus comitem Engolismensem”; and

that Angoulême had some share in the matter appears also from

the confused story of Gerv. Cant. (as above), pp. 592, 593, who

makes Richard receive his death-wound while besieging “castrum

comitis Engolismi, quod Nantrum erat appellatum.” A joint

rebellion of the lords of Limoges and Angoulême would be very

natural, for they were half-brothers. On the other hand, the

two men were very likely to be confounded by historians, for

they both bore the same name, Ademar. See above, p. 220 and

note 3{1035}.

[1905] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. v. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 155. Rigord (_ib._ p. 42) describes the

finder as a soldier.

[1906] “Qui posteris, quo tempore fuerant, certam dabant

memoriam,” adds Rigord (as above), p. 43. Is it possible that

the thing can have been a real relic of some of the old Gothic

kings of Aquitania?

[1907] This seems to be the only way of reconciling the

different accounts in Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 82,

Rigord (as above), p. 42, Will. Armor. as above, and R.

Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 94.

This place, not far from the western border of the Limousin, is now

represented by two villages, known conjointly as Châlus-Chabrol, and

built upon the summits of two low hills, at whose foot winds the

little stream of Tardoire. Each hill is crowned by a round tower of

late twelfth-century work; the lower one is traditionally said to be

the keep of the fortress besieged by Richard with all his forces at

Mid-Lent 1199.[1908] In vain did Achard, who was utterly unprepared

to stand a siege, protest his innocence and offer to submit to the

judgement of the French king’s court, as supreme alike over the duke

of Aquitaine and over his vassals; in vain did he beg for a truce

till the holy season should be past; in vain, when the outworks were

almost wholly destroyed and the keep itself undermined,[1909] did he

ask leave to surrender with the honours of war for himself and his men.

Richard was inexorable; he swore that he would hang them all.[1910]

With the courage that is born of despair, Achard, accompanied by six

knights and nine serving-men, retired into the keep, determined to hold

it until death.[1911] All that day--Friday, March 26[1912]--Richard

and his lieutenant Mercadier, the captain of his mercenaries,[1913]

prowled vainly round the walls, seeking for a point at which they

could assault them with safety.[1914] Their sappers were all the while

undermining the tower.[1915] Its defenders, finding themselves short

of missiles, began throwing down beams of wood and fragments of the

broken battlements at the miners’ heads.[1916] They were equally short

of defensive arms; one of the little band stood for more than half the

day upon a turret, with nothing but a frying-pan for a shield against

the bolts which flew whistling all around him, yet failed to drive him

from his post.[1917] At last the moment came for which he had been

waiting so long and so bravely. Just as Richard, unarmed save for his

iron head-piece, paused within bow-shot of the turret, this man caught

sight of an arrow which had been shot at himself from the besieging

ranks--seemingly, indeed, by Richard’s own hand--and had stuck

harmlessly in a crevice of the wall within his reach. He snatched it

out, fitted it to his cross-bow, and aimed at the king.[1918] Richard

saw the movement and greeted it with a shout of defiant applause; he

failed to shelter himself under his buckler; the arrow struck him on

the left shoulder, just below the joint of the neck, and glancing

downwards penetrated deep into his side.[1919] He made light of the

wound,[1920] gave strict orders to Mercadier to press the assault with

redoubled vigour,[1921] and rode back to his tent as if nothing was

amiss.[1922] There he rashly tried to pull out the arrow with his own

hand.[1923] The wood broke off, the iron barb remained fixed in the

wound; a surgeon attached to the staff of Mercadier was sent for, and

endeavoured to cut it out; unluckily, Richard was fat like his father,

and the iron, buried deep in his flesh, was so difficult to reach that

the injuries caused by the operator’s knife proved more dangerous

than that which had been inflicted by the shaft of the hostile

crossbow-man.[1924] The wounded side grew more swollen and inflamed day

by day; the patient’s constitutional restlessness, aggravated as it

was by pain, made matters worse;[1925] and at last mortification set

in.[1926]

[1908] Will. Armor. (as above) says the treasure was discovered

_after_ Mid-Lent. But Rog. Howden (as above, p. 84), Gerv.

Cant. (Stubbs, vol. i. p. 593), R. Coggeshall (Stevenson,

p. 95), and the Ann. of Margam, Winton. and Waverl. a. 1199

(Luard, _Ann. Monast._, vol. i. p. 24, vol. ii. pp. 71, 251),

all tell us that Richard received his death-wound on March

26--Friday, the morrow of Mid-Lent--and R. Coggeshall adds that

this was the third day of the siege, which must therefore have

begun on Wednesday, March 24.

[1909] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. v. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 155.

[1910] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 82. Cf. Gerv. Cant.

(Stubbs), vol. i. p. 593.

[1911] Will. Armor. as above.

[1912] See above, p. 382, note 4{1908}.

[1913] On this man’s history see an article by H.

Géraud--“Mercadier; les Routiers au xiiiᵉ siècle”--in

_Bibl. de l’Ecole des Chartes_, ser. i. vol. iii. pp. 417

_et seq._ The writers of his own time call him “Marcadeus,”

“Mercaderius,” in every possible variety of spelling; in a

charter of his own, printed by Géraud (as above, p. 444),

his style is “ego Merchaderius”; it seems best therefore

to adopt the form “Mercadier,” which Géraud uses. He was a

Provençal by birth (Mat. Paris, _Chron. Maj._, Luard, vol. ii.

p. 421). He makes his first historical appearance in 1183,

in Richard’s service, amid the disorders in Aquitaine after

the death of the young king (Geoff. Vigeois, l. ii. c. 25,

Labbe, _Nova Biblioth._, vol. ii. p. 340). He reappears by

Richard’s side at Vendôme in 1194 (Rog. Howden, Stubbs, vol.

iii. p. 256); about this time Richard endowed him with the

lands of Bainac in Périgord (see his own charter, a. 1195, as

referred to above, and Géraud’s comments, _ib._ pp. 423–427).

He played a considerable part in Richard’s wars with Philip

(see authorities collected by Géraud, as above, pp. 428–431),

remained, as we shall see, with Richard till his death, and

afterwards helped Eleanor to regain Anjou for John. He was

slain at Bordeaux in April 1200 (Rog. Howden, Stubbs, vol. iv.

p. 114).

[1914] Rog. Howden (as above), p. 82.

[1915] R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 94.

[1916] _Ibid._ Will. Armor. as above.

[1917] R. Coggeshall, p. 95.

[1918] Will. Armor. _Philipp._, l. v. (Duchesne, _Hist. Franc.

Scriptt._, vol. v.), p. 156. Cf. Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv.

p. 82.

[1919] “Percussitque regem super humerum sinistrum juxta colli

spondilia, sicque arcuato vulnere telum dilapsum est deorsum

ac lateri sinistro immersum.” R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p.

95. See also the briefer accounts of the scene and the wound

in Rog. Howden and Will. Armor. as above, and Gerv. Cant.

(Stubbs), vol. i. p. 593.

[1920] R. Coggeshall as above.

[1921] Rog. Howden as above.

[1922] _Ibid._ R. Coggeshall as above.

[1923] R. Coggeshall as above. Rog. Howden (as above), p. 83,

lays the blame of this unskilful operation upon the doctor.

[1924] Rog. Howden and R. Coggeshall as above.

[1925] The English writers--Rog. Howden and R. Coggeshall--try

to shift the blame of their king’s death as much as possible

upon the foreign surgeon. Will. Armor. (as above) attributes

it wholly to Richard’s disregard of the doctor’s orders; and

even R. Coggeshall (Stevenson, p. 96) is obliged to add at

last “rege ... præcepta medicorum non curante.” Rog. Wendover.

(Coxe), vol. iii. p. 135, says the arrow was poisoned, but this

seems to be only an inference from the result.

[1926] R. Coggeshall as above.

Then Richard, face to face with death, came to his better self once

more, and prepared calmly and bravely for his end. Until then he had

suffered no one to enter the chamber where he lay save four barons

whom he specially trusted, lest the report of his sickness should be

bruited about,[1927] to discourage his friends or to rejoice his foes.

Now, he summoned all of his followers who were within reach to witness

his solemn bequest of all his dominions to his brother John, and made

them swear fealty to John as his successor.[1928] He wrote to his

mother, who was at Fontevraud, requesting her to come to him;[1929] he

bequeathed his jewels to his nephew King Otto, and a fourth part of

his treasures to be distributed among his servants and the poor.[1930]

By this time Châlus was taken and its garrison hung, according to

his earlier orders--all save the man who had shot him, and who had

apparently been reserved for his special judgement. Richard ordered the

man to be brought before him. “What have I done to thee,” he asked him,

“that thou shouldest slay me?” “Thou hast slain my father and two of my

brothers with thine own hand, and thou wouldst fain have killed me too.

Avenge thyself upon me as thou wilt; I will gladly endure the greatest

torments which thou canst devise, since I have seen thee upon thy

death-bed.” “I forgive thee,” answered Richard, and he bade the guards

loose him and let him go free with a gift of a hundred shillings.[1931]

The story went that Richard had not communicated for nearly seven

years, because he could not put himself in charity with Philip.[1932]

Now, on the eleventh day after his wound--April 6, the Tuesday in

Passion-week[1933]--he made his confession to one of his chaplains,

and received the Holy Communion. His soul being thus at peace, he gave

directions for the disposal of his body. It was to be embalmed; the

brain and some of the internal organs were to be buried in the ancient

Poitevin abbey of Charroux; the heart was to be deposited in the

Norman capital, where it had always found a loyal response; the corpse

itself was to be laid, in token of penitence, at his father’s feet

in the abbey-church of Fontevraud.[1934] Lastly, he received extreme

unction; and then, “as the day drew to its close, his day of life also

came to its end.”[1935] His friends buried him as he had wished. S.

Hugh of Lincoln, now at Angers on his way to protest against a fresh

spoliation of his episcopal property, came to seal his forgiveness

by performing the last rites of the Church over this second grave

at Fontevraud,[1936] where another Angevin king was thus “shrouded

among the shrouded women”--his own mother, doubtless, in their

midst.[1937] He was laid to sleep in the robes which he had worn on his

last crowning-day in England, five years before.[1938] His heart was

enclosed in a gold and silver casket, carried to Rouen, and solemnly

deposited by the clergy among the holy relics in their cathedral

church;[1939] and men saw in its unusual size[1940] a fit token of the

mighty spirit of him whom Normandy never ceased to venerate as Richard

Cœur-de-Lion.

[1927] R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 96.

[1928] Rog. Howden (Stubbs), vol. iv. p. 83. And this, although

he and John had parted on bad terms shortly before. R.

Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 99. _Mag. Vita S. Hug._ (Dimock), p.

287.

[1929] R. Coggeshall (Stevenson), p. 96.

[1930] Rog. Howden as above.

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