RICHARD MADE CAPTIVE.
1192
The returning Crusaders met by a storm.--Richard's sudden change
of course.--His route homeward.--King Richard traveling in
disguise of a pilgrim.--Richard's enemies in Germany.--Fancied
security.--Richard solicits a passport.--Maynard's answer.--The
alarm given.--King Richard's flight through Germany.--Richard
concealed near Vienna.--His messenger.--Torturing the
messenger.--The king a captive.--The archduke imprisons Richard
in Tiernsteign.--The emperor buys the prisoner.
It was now late in the season, and the autumnal gales had begun to
blow. It was but a very short time after the vessels left the port
before so severe a storm came on that the fleet was dispersed, and
many of the vessels were driven upon the neighboring coasts and
destroyed. The Crusaders that had been left in Acre and Jaffa were
rather pleased at this than otherwise. They had been indignant at
Richard and the knights who were with him for having left them, to
return home, and they said now that the storm was a judgment from
Heaven against the men on board the vessels for abandoning their work,
and going away from the Holy Land, and leaving the tomb and the cross
of Christ unredeemed. Some of the ships, it is said, were thrown on
the coasts of Africa, and the seamen and knights, as fast as they
escaped to the shore, were seized and made slaves.
Richard's ship, and also the one in which the queens were embarked,
being stronger and better manned than the others, weathered the gale.
After it was over, the queens' vessel steered for Sicily, where, in
due time, they arrived in safety.
Richard did not intend to trust himself to go to any place where he
was known. Accordingly, as soon as he found himself fairly separated
from all the other vessels, he suddenly changed his course, and turned
northward toward the mouth of the Adriatic Sea. He landed at the
island of Corfu.[G] Here he dismissed his ship, and took three small
galleys instead, to go up to the head of the Adriatic Sea, and thence
to make his way homeward by land through the heart of Germany.
[Footnote G: For the situation of this island, see the map on page
164.]
He probably thought that this was the safest and best course that he
could take. He did not dare to go through France for fear of Philip.
To go all the way by sea, which would require him to sail out through
the Straits of Gibraltar into the Atlantic, would require altogether
too long and dangerous a voyage for so late a season of the year. The
only alternative left was to attempt to pass through Germany; and, as
the German powers were hostile to him, it was not safe for him to
undertake this unless he went in disguise.
So he sailed in the three galleys which he procured in Corfu to the
head of the Adriatic Sea, and landed at a place called Zara. Here he
put on the dress of a pilgrim. He had suffered his hair and beard to
grow long, and this, with the flowing robes of his pilgrim's dress,
and the crosier which he bore in his hand, completed his disguise.
But, though he might make himself _look_ like a pilgrim, he could not
act like one. He was well provided with money, and his mode of
spending it, though it might have been, perhaps, very sparing for a
king, was very lavish for a pilgrim; and the people, as he passed
along, wondered who the party of strangers could be. Partly to account
for the comparative ease and comfort with which he traveled, Richard
pretended that he was a merchant, and, though making his pilgrimage on
foot, was by no means poor.
Richard knew very well that he was incurring a great risk in
attempting to pass through Germany in this way, for the country was
full of his foes. The Emperor of Germany was his special enemy, on
account of his having supported Tancred's cause in Sicily, the
emperor himself, as the husband of the Lady Constance, having been
designated by the former King of Sicily as his successor. Richard's
route led, too, through the dominions of the Archduke of Austria, whom
he had quarreled with and incensed so bitterly in the Holy Land.
Besides this, there were various chieftains in that part of the
country, relatives of Conrad of Montferrat, whom every body believed
that Richard had caused to be murdered.
Richard was thus passing through a country full of enemies, and he
might naturally be supposed to feel some anxiety about the result;
but, instead of proceeding cautiously, and watching against the
dangers that beset him, he went on quite at his ease, believing that
his good fortune would carry him safely through.
He went on for some days, traveling by lonely roads through the
mountains, until at length he approached a large town. The governor of
the town was a man named Maynard, a near relative of Conrad, and it
seems that in some way or other he had learned that Richard was
returning to England, and had reason to suppose that he might endeavor
to pass that way. Richard did not think it prudent to attempt to go
through the town without a passport, so he sent forward a page whom he
had in his party to get one. He gave the page a very valuable ruby
ring to present to the governor, directing him to say that it was a
present from a pilgrim merchant, who, with a priest and a few other
attendants, was traveling through the country, and wished for
permission to go through his town.
The governor took the ring, and after examining it attentively and
observing its value, he said to the page,
"This is not the present of a pilgrim, but of a prince. Tell your
master that I know who he is. He is Richard, King of England.
Nevertheless, he may come and go in peace."
Richard was very much alarmed when the page brought back the message.
That very night he procured horses for himself and one or two others,
and drove on as fast as he could go, leaving the rest of the party
behind. The next day those that were left were all taken prisoners,
and the news was noised abroad over the country that King Richard was
passing through in disguise, and a large reward was offered by the
government for his apprehension. Of course, now every body was on the
watch for him.
The king, however, succeeded in avoiding observation and going on some
distance farther, until at length, at a certain town where he stopped,
he was seen by a knight who had known him in Normandy. The knight at
once recognized him, but would not betray him. On the contrary, he
concealed him for the night, and provided for him a fresh horse the
next day. This horse was a fleet one, so that Richard could gallop
away upon him and make his escape, in case of any sudden surprise.
Here Richard dismissed all his remaining attendants except his page,
and they two set out together.
They traveled three days and three nights, pursuing the most retired
roads that they could find, and not entering any house during all that
time. The only rest that they got was by halting at lonely places by
the road side, in the forests, or among the mountains. In these places
Richard would remain concealed, while the boy went to a village, if
there was any village near, to buy food. He generally got very little,
and sometimes none at all. The horse ate whatever he could find. Thus,
at the end of the three days, they were all nearly starved.
Besides this, they had lost their way, and were now drawing near to
the great city of Vienna, the most dangerous place for Richard to
approach in all the land. He was, however, exhausted with hunger and
fatigue, and from these and other causes he fell sick, so that he
could proceed no farther. So he went into a small village near the
town, and sent the boy in to the market to buy something to eat, and
also to procure some other comforts which he greatly needed. The
people in the town observed the peculiar dress of the boy, and his
foreign air, and their attention was still more excited by noticing
how plentifully he was supplied with money. They asked him who he was.
He said he was the servant of a foreign merchant who was traveling
through the country, and who had been taken sick near by.
The people seemed satisfied with this explanation, and so they let the
boy go.
Richard was so exhausted and so sick that he could not travel again
immediately, and so he had occasion, in a day or two, to send the boy
into town again. This continued for some days, and the curiosity of
the people became more and more awakened. At last they observed about
the page some articles of dress such as were only worn by attendants
upon kings. It is surprising that Richard should have been so
thoughtless as to have allowed him to wear them. But such was his
character. The people finally seized the boy, and the authorities
ordered him to be whipped to make him tell who he was. The boy bore
the pain very heroically, but at length they threatened to put him to
the torture, and, among other things, to cut out his tongue, if he did
not tell. He was so terrified by this that at last he confessed the
truth and told them where they might find the king.
A band of soldiers was immediately sent to seize him. The story is
that Richard, at the time when the soldiers arrived, was in the
kitchen turning the spit to roast the dinner. After surrounding the
house to prevent the possibility of an escape, the soldiers demanded
at the door if King Richard was there. The man answered, "No, not
unless the Templar was he who was turning the spit in the kitchen." So
the soldiers went in to see. The leader exclaimed, "Yes, that is he:
take him!" But Richard seized his sword, and, rushing to a position
where he could defend himself, declared to the soldiers that he would
not surrender to any but their chief. So the soldiers, deeming it
desirable to take him alive, paused until they could send for the
archduke. The archduke had left the Holy Land and returned home some
time before. Richard, however, did not probably know that he was
passing through his dominions.
When the archduke came, Richard, knowing that resistance would be of
no avail, delivered up his sword and became a prisoner.
"You are very fortunate," said Leopold. "In becoming my prisoner, you
ought to consider yourself as having fallen into the hands of a
deliverer rather than an enemy. If you had been taken by any of
Conrad's friends, who are hunting for you every where, you would have
been instantly torn to pieces, they are so indignant against you."
When the archduke had thus secured Richard, he sent him, for safe
keeping, to a castle in the country belonging to one of his barons,
and gave notice to the emperor of what had occurred. The name of the
castle in which Richard was confined was Tiernsteign.
As soon as the emperor heard that Richard was taken he was overjoyed.
He immediately sent to Leopold, the archduke, and claimed the prisoner
as his.
[Illustration: CASTLE AND TOWN OF TIERNSTEIGN.]
"_You_ can not rightfully hold him," said he. "A duke can not
presume to imprison a king; that duty belongs to an emperor."
But the archduke was not willing to give Richard up. A negotiation
was, however, opened, and finally he consented to sell his prisoner
for a large sum of money. The emperor took him away, and what he did
with him for a long time nobody knew.
In the mean while, during the period occupied by the voyage of Richard
up the Adriatic, by his long and slow journey by land, and by the time
of his imprisonment in Tiernsteign, the winter had passed away, and it
was now the spring of 1193.