KING RICHARD'S RETURN TO ENGLAND.
Journeying onward, Blondel and his companion stopped at many castles,
and were everywhere hospitably entertained. Arriving at Vienna they
lingered for some time, hoping there to be able to obtain some
information of the whereabouts of King Richard. Blondel in his songs
artfully introduced allusions to the captive monarch and to the mourning
of all Christendom at the imprisonment of its champion. These allusions
were always well received, and he found that the great bulk of the
nobles of the empire were indignant and ashamed at the conduct of the
emperor in imprisoning his illustrious rival. The secret of his prison
place, however, appeared to have been so well kept that no information
whatever was obtainable.
"We must carry out our original plan," he said at length, "and journey
into the Tyrol. In one of the fortresses there he is most likely to be
confined."
Leaving the capital they wandered up into the mountains for weeks,
visiting one castle after another. It was no easy matter in all cases to
get so near to these prisons as to give a hope that their voice might be
heard within, or an answer received without. More than once crossbow
bolts were shot at them from the walls when they did not obey the
sentinel's challenge and move further away. Generally, however, it was
in the daytime that they sang. Wandering carelessly up, they would sit
down within earshot of the castle, open their wallets, and take out
provisions from their store, and then, having eaten and drunk, Blondel
would produce his lute and sing, as if for his own pleasure. It needed,
however, four visits to each castle before they could be sure that the
captive was not there; for the song had to be sung on each side.
Sometimes they would cheat themselves with the thought that they heard
an answering voice; but it was not until the end of the fourth week,
when singing outside the castle of Diernstein, that a full rich voice,
when Blondel ceased, sang out the second stanza of the poem. With
difficulty Blondel and Cuthbert restrained themselves from an
extravagant exhibition of joy. They knew, however, that men on the
prison wall were watching them as they sat singing, and Blondel, with a
final strain taken from a ballad of a knight who, having discovered the
hiding-place of his lady love, prepared to free her from her oppressors,
shouldered his lute, and they started on their homeward journey.
There was no delay now. At times they sang indeed at castles; but only
when their store was exhausted, for upon these occasions Blondel would
be presented with a handsome goblet or other solid token of the owner's
approval, and the sale of this at the next city would take them far on
their way. They thought it better not to pass through France, as Philip,
they knew, was on the watch to prevent any news of King Richard reaching
England. They therefore again passed through Brabant, and so by ship to
England.
Hearing that Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, one of Richard's vicegerents, was
over in Normandy, and rightly deeming him the most earnest of his
adherents, they at once recrossed the sea, and found the warlike prelate
at Rouen. Greatly delighted was he at hearing that Richard's
hiding-place had been discovered. He at once sent across the news to
England, and ordered it to be published far and wide, and himself
announced it to the barons of Normandy. Then with a gorgeous retinue,
including Cuthbert and Blondel, he started for Vienna, and arriving
there demanded an interview with the emperor.
The news that it was now certain that Richard was imprisoned in a castle
of the emperor had already spread through Europe, and the bishop had
been received everywhere with tokens of sympathy; and so great was the
feeling shown by the counts and barons of the empire that the Emperor
Henry felt that he could no longer refuse to treat for the surrender of
his captive. Therefore he granted the interview which Longchamp
demanded. The English envoy was received by the emperor surrounded by
his nobles. The prelate advanced with great dignity.
"I come," he said, "in the name of the people of England to demand the
restoration of King Richard, most unjustly and unknightly detained a
prisoner in his passage through your dominions."
"King Richard was my foe," the emperor said, "open and secret, and I was
justified in detaining one who is alike my enemy and a scourge to Europe
as a prisoner, when fortune threw him in my hands. I am, however,
willing to put him to a ransom, and will upon the payment of one hundred
and fifty thousand marks allow him to go free."
"I deny your right to detain him or to put him to ransom," the bishop
said. "But as you have the power, so my denial is useless. England is
poor, impoverished with war and by the efforts which she made in the
service of our holy religion. Nevertheless, poor as she is, she will
raise the sum you demand. There is not an Englishman who will not
furnish all he can afford for the rescue of our king. But once again, in
the presence of your nobles, I denounce your conduct as base and
unkingly."
The emperor could with difficulty restrain his passion; but the sight of
the somber visages of his nobles showed that they shared in no slight
degree the feelings which the English envoy had so boldly announced.
"Before, however," the emperor said, "I surrender King Richard, he must
be tried by my peers of many and various crimes of which he is accused.
Should he be found guilty of these, no gold can purchase his release.
Should he, however, be acquitted, then as my word is given so shall it
be."
"Although," the prelate said, "I deny your right to try our king, and
believe that he himself will refuse to accept your jurisdiction, yet I
fear not the result if our lord be left in the hands of the nobles of
the empire and not in yours. I can trust their honor and courtesy."
And turning upon his heel, without another word he quitted the
apartment.
An hour later the bishop and his following took horse and rode with all
speed to the north coast, and thence sailed for England. The news of the
amount of ransom filled the people with consternation; but preparations
were at once made for collecting the sum demanded. Queen Eleanor was
unceasing in her efforts to raise the money for the release of her
favorite son. The nobles contributed their jewels and silver; the people
gave contributions of goods, for money was so scarce in England that few
had the wherewithal to pay in coin. Prince John placed every obstacle in
the way of the collection; but the barons had since their successful
stand obtained the upper hand, and it was by intrigue only that he could
hinder the collection.
In the meantime, popular opinion throughout Europe was strong upon the
side of King Richard. The pope himself wrote to the emperor on his
behalf. The barons of the empire were indignant at the shame placed upon
their country; and the emperor, although he would fain have thrown
further delays in the way, was obliged at last to order the first step
to be taken.
A solemn diet was ordered to assemble at Worms. Here were collected all
the nobles of the empire, and before them King Richard was brought. It
was a grand assembly. Upon a raised throne on the daïs sat the emperor
himself, and beside him and near him were the great feudatories of the
empire, and along the sides of the walls were ranged in long rows the
lesser barons. When the doors were opened and King Richard entered, the
whole assembly, save the emperor, rose in respect to the captive
monarch. Although pale from his long confinement, the proud air of
Richard was in no way abated, and the eyes that had flashed so
fearlessly upon the Saracens looked as sternly down the long lines of
the barons of Germany. Of splendid stature and physique, King Richard
was unquestionably the finest man of his time. He was handsome, with a
frank face, but with a fierce and passionate eye. He wore his mustache
with a short beard and closely-cut whisker. His short curly hair was
cropped closely to his head, upon which he wore a velvet cap with gold
coronet, while a scarlet robe lined with fur fell over his coat of mail,
for the emperor had deemed it imprudent to excite the feeling of the
assembly in favor of the prisoner by depriving him of the symbols of his
rank.
King Richard strode to the place prepared for him, and then turning to
the assembly he said, in a voice which rang through the hall:
"Counts and lords of the Empire of Germany, I, Richard, King of
England, do deny your right to try me. I am a king, and can only be
tried by my peers and by the pope, who is the head of Christendom. I
might refuse to plead, refuse to take any part in this assembly, and
appeal to the pope, who alone has power to punish kings. But I will
waive my rights. I rely upon the honor and probity of the barons of
Germany. I have done no man wrong, and would appear as fearlessly before
an assembly of peasants as before a gathering of barons. Such faults as
I may have, and none are without them, are not such as those with which
I am charged. I have slain many men in anger, but none by treachery.
When Richard of England strikes he strikes in the light of day. He
leaves poison and treachery to his enemies, and I hurl back with
indignation and scorn in the teeth of him who makes them the charges
brought against me."
So saying King Richard took his seat amid a murmur of applause from the
crowded hall.
The trial then commenced. The accusations against Richard were of many
kinds. Chief among them was the murder of Conrad of Montferat; but there
were charges of having brought the Crusade to naught by thwarting the
general plans, by his arrogance in refusing to be bound by the decision
of the other leaders, and by having made a peace contrary to the
interests of the Crusaders. The list was a long one; but the evidence
produced was pitiably weak. Beyond the breath of suspicion, no word of
real evidence connecting him with the murder of Conrad of Montferat was
adduced, and the other charges were supported by no better evidence.
Many of the German barons who had been at the Crusades themselves came
forward to testify to the falsity of these charges, and the fact that
Richard had himself placed Conrad of Montferat upon the throne, and had
no possible interest in his death, was alone more than sufficient to
nullify the vague rumors brought against him. Richard himself in a few a
scornful words disposed of this accusation. The accusation that he,
Richard of England, would stoop to poison a man whom he could have
crushed in an instant was too absurd to be seriously treated.
"I am sure," the king said, "that not one person here believes this idle
tale. That I did not always agree with the other leaders is true; but I
call upon every one here to say whether, had they listened to me and
followed my advice, the Crusade would not have had another ending. Even
after Philip of France had withdrawn; even after I had been deserted by
John of Austria, I led the troops of the Crusaders from every danger and
every difficulty to within sight of the walls of Jerusalem. Had I been
supported with zeal, the holy city would have been ours; but the apathy,
the folly, and the weakness of the leaders brought ruin upon the army.
They thought not of conquering Jerusalem, but of thwarting me; and I
retort upon them the charge of having sacrificed the success of the
Crusade. As to the terms of peace, how were they made? I, with some
fifty knights and one thousand followers, alone remained in the Holy
Land. Who else, I ask, so circumstanced, could have obtained any terms
whatever from Saladin? It was the weight of my arm alone which saved
Jaffa and Acre, and the line of seacoast, to the Cross. And had I
followed the example set me by him of Austria and the Frenchman, not one
foot of the Holy Land would now remain in Christian hands."
The trial was soon over, and without a single dissentient the King of
England was acquitted of all the charges brought against him. But the
money was not yet raised, and King Richard was taken back into the
heart of Germany. At length, by prodigious exertions, half the amount
claimed was collected, and upon the solicitations of the pope and of the
counts of his own empire, the emperor consented to release Richard upon
receipt of this sum, and his royal promise that the remainder should be
made up.
Not as yet, however, were the intrigues at an end. Prince John and King
Philip alike implored the emperor to retain his captive, and offered to
him a larger sum than the ransom if he would still hold him in his
hands. Popular opinion, was, however, too strong. When the news of these
negotiations became bruited abroad the counts of the empire, filled with
indignation, protested against this shame and dishonor being brought
upon the country. The pope threatened him with excommunication; and at
last the emperor, feeling that he would risk his throne did he further
insist, was forced to open the prison gates and let the king free.
Cuthbert, Blondel, and a few other trusty friends were at hand, and
their joy at receiving their long-lost sovereign was indeed intense.
Horses had been provided in readiness, and without a moment's delay the
king started, for even at the last moment it was feared that the emperor
might change his mind. This indeed was the case. The king had not
started many hours, when the arrival of fresh messengers from Philip and
John induced the emperor once more to change his intentions, and a body
of men were sent in pursuit of the king. The latter fortunately made no
stay on the way, but changing horses frequently--for everywhere he was
received with honor and attention--he pushed forward for the coast of
the North Sea, and arrived there two or three hours only before his
oppressors. Fortunately it was night, and taking a boat he embarked
without a moment's delay; and when the emissaries of the emperor arrived
the boat was already out of sight, and in the darkness pursuit was
hopeless.
On landing at Dover, the first to present himself before him was Prince
John, who, in the most abject terms besought pardon for the injuries he
had inflicted. King Richard waved him contemptuously aside.
"Go," he said, "and may I forget your injuries as speedily as you will
forget my pardon."
Then taking horse, he rode on to London, where he was received with the
most lively acclamation by his subjects.
The first step of King Richard was to dispossess all the minions of John
from the castles and lands which had been taken from his faithful
adherents. Some of these resisted; but their fortresses were speedily
stormed. Sir Rudolph was not one of these. Immediately the news of King
Richard's arrival in England reached him, feeling that all was now lost,
he rode to the seacoast, took ship, and passed into France, and
Cuthbert, on his arrival at Evesham, found himself undisputed lord of
the place. He found that the hiding-place of his mother had not been
discovered, and, after a short delay to put matters in train, he,
attended by a gallant retinue, rode into Wiltshire to the castle of Sir
Baldwin of Béthune. Here he found the Lady Margaret safe and sound, and
mightily pleased to see him. She was now seventeen, and offered no
objections whatever to the commands of King Richard that she should at
once bestow her hand upon the Earl of Evesham. By the king's order, the
wedding took place at London, the king himself bestowing the bride upon
his faithful follower, whom we may now leave to the enjoyment of the
fortune and wife he had so valiantly won.
THE END.