King John
On the following day John summoned the leading nobles and commanders who
had accompanied him to France to the great hall of the old castle of
Mirabeau. Besides famous Salisbury, Lords Pembroke, Bigot, and Essex
were in attendance, as well as knights and leading personages in great
number. All awaited the Duke of Brittany with eager interest. They had
heard so much about him since their arrival that many of them were
greatly surprised and had besieged Salisbury with questions. Meanwhile
Salisbury himself had not ventured to see the Duke, as the King had
issued stringent orders that no one should be admitted to him. Arthur
now realized that his fate was in John’s hands, and he was filled with
fear and solicitude. He showed no traces of it, however, when he
appeared in the hall attended by an armed escort. He was in his best
apparel, which had been kept for him by Salisbury. Over a violet silk
doublet he wore a short, gold-embroidered mantle of white satin and a
scarf with the arms of the Plantagenets on it. Only the sword was
lacking to complete the attire of knighthood. With a firm step and erect
head he went directly in front of the King’s seat, bowed respectfully,
lifting his cap and replacing it immediately, as was the right of one of
equal birth. Then he looked about quietly upon the assemblage. The
impression which he made is almost indescribable. Many remembered to
have seen him with King Richard in Rouen and recalled the favor which
his uncle had shown him. Others, who had never seen him, recognized with
great emotion Duke Geoffrey’s face and figure reflected in his son. John
also had observed the likeness, and it greatly disquieted him. A rustle
and low murmurs were heard all over the hall until John spoke, and then
deep silence prevailed.
“It is not our fault, my nephew,” said he, “that I am receiving you
here. It would not have been so had you accepted my invitation.”
“Your invitation, uncle?” replied Arthur, not addressing him by his
royal title. “I know of no invitation except the one to surrender which
your troops sent to our cities.”
“Well,” replied John with a show of irritation, “your mother, instead of
applying to her husband’s family for protection, besought it of Philip
Augustus, King of France.”
“And why was Geoffrey’s widow forced to seek for outside help, except
that her legitimate protectors had become her enemies? No, my uncle, you
cannot justify what has happened, but you can make reparation.”
“What do you mean?” said John.
“You well know my claims,” replied Arthur.
“And I scorn them,” said the King menacingly. “Bethink you. You are a
prisoner. You should be more moderate of speech.”
“Imprisonment cannot make wrong right. It is more likely to add new
wrongs to old ones.”
“Silence,” thundered John. “How does a mere worm, whom I can trample
under my feet, dare to be so bold?”
Arthur’s hand involuntarily sought his missing sword. Blazing with
anger, he exclaimed: “Shame upon you thus to abuse and threaten a
prisoner! Even if you despise the ties of relationship, at least honor
the obligations of knighthood, to which we both belong.” The knights
present loudly applauded these words, occasioning much confusion.
Thereupon John, chagrined as he realized he had gone too far, quietly
observed: “I am the best judge of what is becoming to knighthood. The
honor of the King stands higher still. You may retire, Duke Arthur.”
The King beckoned to the guards and Arthur was led away, taking with him
the unmistakable sympathy of all present.
“You have heard, my lords, how this prisoner defies me,” resumed the
King. A pause followed these words, and lasted until Salisbury came
forward and said: “The Duke spoke the truth; and as it was youthful
impulse which actuated him, I think, and many others with me, that he
had sufficient excuse.”
“Lords Pembroke and Bigot, is that your opinion?” said the King.
Venerable Lord Pembroke calmly replied: “If the grade of kinship alone
entitled him to the succession, Arthur would have the legitimate claim
from his father, Geoffrey, your eldest brother. Nay, King, do not
interrupt. Hear me out. We, the lords of England, recognized you as King
after Richard’s death, though well aware that a nearer heir was living.
But when we elevated you to the throne we took into consideration not
alone the question of inheritance, but the welfare of England. The
fearful struggle after the first Henry’s death, in which rivers of blood
were shed, to decide who should wear the crown, is still fresh in the
minds of the people. Civil war must not again devastate the country; and
yet I most earnestly warn you to treat your nephew, Arthur of Brittany,
with the consideration due to his rank, to honor him in knightly
fashion, and to give him back his dukedom unimpaired. Promise me this, O
King, and receive anew our loyal devotion. Do you endorse my proposal,
noble lords?”
The convincing importance of his statement, as well as the imposing
presence of Lord Pembroke, made a profound impression, and all raised
their hands in assent.
John looked around the circle in a triumphant manner and said in a
conciliatory tone: “I give the promise which you desire unconditionally,
my loving and trusty followers. I am pained that you should have
believed I would not deal with my nephew as becomes his rank, even
without a promise.”
All were, or at least seemed to be, satisfied with the King’s statement.
Salisbury, however, still was suspicious of John’s sincerity. He asked
permission to visit the prisoner again. The King smilingly granted it,
saying: “Go to him to-day, noble Earl, for you must leave with a
detachment of troops in the morning.”
Salisbury made no objection to this, for he did not know that not only
he, but all the nobles who had shown favor toward Arthur, would be sent
away, and that the Duke would be left behind in the King’s power. He was
detained so long by the King upon business matters and friendly
pretences that little time was left for him to make the visit; but at
last he got away, and hurried to the prison. The joy with which Arthur
greeted him made it all the more difficult for the Earl to prepare him
for the approaching separation. When the Duke learned the King’s
intention, he lost his self-control and entreated Salisbury not to leave
him. Vainly the Earl assured him that John had bound himself by a sacred
promise that he would do nothing to harm his nephew. He clung to his
only friend as he sought to tear himself away, crying out in utter
despair, “My last hope departs with you, noble Salisbury.”
In great agitation Salisbury left the unfortunate youth, and the next
day marched out of Mirabeau, filled with gloomy apprehensions and
wishing that he had never entered it and taken Arthur prisoner.
In a few weeks the relations of those who had met in Mirabeau were
radically changed. Queen Eleanor had to remain there alone, though very
reluctantly, as she was detained by a severe illness. It seemed as if
the sight of Arthur’s face had aroused the torments of conscience, for,
from the day when she was forced to deliver him into John’s power she
had grown weak and ill, both in body and mind. As soon as he could make
the arrangements John left Mirabeau, taking his nephew with him. Though
closely guarded, Arthur enjoyed considerable freedom on the road, and
followed the army on horseback. But before they were out of Normandy the
prisoner’s guards suddenly took him away in another direction from that
of the army, and landed him in the castle of Falaise.
In that gloomy castle Arthur experienced all the hardships of
imprisonment and passed his days in hopeless solitude. At the beginning
of winter he was taken to Rouen and confined in a strong tower on the
bank of the Seine. Though joyous and cheerful by nature, he lost all
courage and hope, and fell into utter despair. His young days seemed
like a dream, and as he recalled them he asked himself over and over
again, “What has become of Alan?”
The time which seemed so long to Arthur was passed by Alan in almost
constant toil and hardship. How many dangers, plots, and delays he had
to overcome before he finally reached Paris! He entered upon his mission
for Arthur at once, but it was soon apparent that the task was hopeless.
Where could he look for advice and assistance? King Philip being far
away with his army, Alan was powerless to carry out Arthur’s wishes, and
yet the Princesses were expecting aid from him. He visited Abraham, who
remained steadfast to the Duke; yet the Jew required time to raise the
money and make inquiries just when Alan had to face new dangers at every
turn. When Abraham learned from his relatives that Arthur had left
Rouen, his alarm increased, for he feared the worst if he met John. The
utmost despatch was now necessary, and Abraham showed his willingness to
help Alan in his plans for the Duke’s rescue. “For,” said the Jew, “he
has done me a great favor and has made an asylum for my people. But,
alas, King John persecutes the children of Israel, and has sworn to
extirpate our race.”
Alan advised with Abraham about every move he made, and finally decided
to repair at once to the neighborhood of the Duke; then he arranged to
meet Abraham in Rouen and decide what further steps were necessary in
Arthur’s behalf.