RICHARD I. AND JOHN.
1189-1216.
When Henry of Anjou died broken-hearted at Chinon, his eldest surviving
son Richard succeeded him in all his vast dominions, save in the duchy
of Brittany, which fell to the child Arthur, the son of Richard's
brother Geoffrey. John, the late king's youngest-born, received a fit
reward for his treachery to his father in losing the appanage that had
been destined for him. He did not obtain any independent principality
of his own, but Richard made him Earl of Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, and
Somerset.
From the moment of his accession the new king began to busy himself
with preparations for going to the Crusade. He had taken the Cross
in 1187, and his penitence for lingering in Europe and troubling his
father, when he should have been over-seas fulfilling his vow, seems to
have had a real influence upon him. But the mere love of adventure must
be allowed to have had a far larger share in turning his steps to the
East. Richard had the habits and instincts of a turbulent feudal baron,
not those of a king. He had spent his life up to this time in petty
wars with his father, his brothers, and his vassals in Aquitaine; such
an existence pleased him well, and he dreamed of more exciting warfare
on a larger stage in the lands of the Infidel, as the highest ambition
that he could conceive.
[Sidenote: =Preparations for the Crusade.--Sale of lands and offices.=]
The moment that he had been crowned, Richard set to work to scrape
together every penny that he could procure, in order to provide against
the expenses of the forthcoming Crusade. He began by selling every
office and dignity that was vacant, with a gross disregard for the
interests of the crown and the welfare of his subjects. He took £3000
from William Longchamp, the haughty and quarrelsome Bishop of Ely, and
appointed him both Chancellor and Justiciar; that is, he made regent in
his absence the most unsuitable man that could have been found. He sold
the earldom of Northumberland to Hugh, Bishop of Durham, for £1000. A
still greater bargain was obtained by William, King of Scotland, who
for the sum of 10,000 marks (£6666) was let off the homage to the crown
of England, which Henry II. had imposed upon him after the battle of
Alnwick. Richard jestingly said that "he would have sold London itself
if he could have found a rich enough buyer." But every town that wanted
a charter, every baron who coveted a slice of crown land, every knight
who wished to be made a sheriff, obtained the desired object at a cheap
rate.
[Sidenote: =The Jews in England.--Outbreak of persecution.=]
Richard's reign began with an outburst of turbulence which illustrated
his careless governance well enough. Among the many classes of subjects
to whom his father had given peace and protection was the Jewish colony
in England, a body which had been rapidly growing in numbers as England
recovered from its ills under Henry's firm hand. The Jews were much
hated by their neighbours, partly as rivals in trade of the native
merchant, and as usurers who lent money at exorbitant interest, but
most of all because of their race and religion. But they had settled
under the king's protection, and in return for the heavy tribute which
they paid him, obtained security for their life and goods. They were
often called the "king's property," because he kept the right of taxing
and managing them entirely in his own hands.
At Richard's coronation a deputation of Jewish elders came to bear him
a gift. They were set upon by the king's foreign servants and cruelly
beaten, in mere fanatical spite. The news spread, and on a false rumour
that the king had approved the deed, the London mob rose and sacked
the Jews' quarter. Nor was this all; the excitement spread over all
England, and at Norwich, Stamford, Lincoln, York, and other places,
there were riots in which many Jews were slain. At the last-named city
a fearful tragedy occurred; all the Jews of York took refuge in the
castle, and when they were beset by a howling mob who cried for their
blood, they by common consent slew their wives and children, and then
set fire to the castle and burnt themselves, rather than fall into the
hands of their enemies. No adequate punishment was ever inflicted for
these disgraceful riots; even at York only a fine was imposed on the
town.
[Sidenote: =The third Crusade.--Quarrel of Richard and Philip of
France.=]
Richard left England in December, 1189, and, after raising additional
forces and stores of money in his continental dominions, sailed from
Marseilles for the East. Richard was one of three sovereign princes
who engaged in the third Crusade; the other two were the Emperor
Frederic Barbarossa and Philip Augustus, King of France. The emperor
led the troops of Germany by the land route through Constantinople and
Asia Minor, but Richard and Philip had wisely resolved to go by sea.
Frederic lost three-fourths of his army in forcing his way through the
Turkish sultanate in Asia Minor, and was accidentally drowned himself
ere he crossed the borders of Syria. Only a small remnant of the German
host ever reached the Holy Land. Richard and Philip fared much better,
and gained the Levant in safety, after halting in Sicily for the winter
of 1190-91. It was during their stay at Messina that the two kings
became bitter personal enemies; in his father's time Richard had been
the friend of the French, and he did not realize for some time the
fact that in succeeding to Henry's dominions he had also succeeded to
the jealous hatred which Philip nourished for his over-great vassal,
the Duke of Aquitaine and Normandy. But in Sicily Richard detected the
French king plotting and intriguing against him, and for the future
regarded him as a secret enemy, and viewed all his acts with suspicion.
[Sidenote: =Richard conquers Cyprus.=]
If we were relating the personal acts of Richard rather than the
history of England, there would be much to tell of his feats in
the East. He began by subduing the isle of Cyprus, whose ruler,
Isaac Comnenus--a rebel against the Emperor of Constantinople--had
ill-treated the shipwrecked crews of some English vessels. After
conquering the whole island, he took formal possession of it, and with
great pomp married there his affianced bride, Berengaria of Navarre,
who had come out from Europe to join him. He then sailed for the Holy
Land, and landed near Acre, in the centre of the seat of war.
[Sidenote: =Capture of Acre, 1191.=]
Acre was at this moment beset by those of the Crusaders who had arrived
before Richard. But their camp was itself being besieged by a great
Saracen host under Sultan Saladin, who had raised all the levies of
Syria, Mesopotamia, and Egypt, to relieve the beleaguered city. The
landing of the hosts of England and France soon turned the tide of war,
and ere long Acre fell. Richard earned and obtained the whole credit
of the success by his energy and courage, while his rival Philip, by
his jealous bickering with the English, merited a name for disloyalty
and lukewarm zeal. It must be confessed that Richard won himself many
enemies by his haughtiness and hasty temper; not only did he quarrel
with Philip, but he mortally offended Leopold of Babenberg, the Duke of
Austria. The German had planted his banner upon the walls of Acre as if
he had taken the town himself, and Richard had it hewn down and cast
into the ditch.
[Sidenote: =Return of Philip.--Richard fails to reach Jerusalem.=]
Less than three weeks after Acre fell, the King of France suddenly
announced his intention of returning home, though nothing had yet been
done to defeat Saladin or recapture Jerusalem. He left part of his army
behind him under the Duke of Burgundy, and sailed off, after making a
vain promise that he would not molest Richard's dominions so long as he
was at the Crusade.
Thus left to himself, Richard led the crusading host southward along
the coast, and defeated Saladin at a pitched battle at Arsouf. He
forced his way to within a few miles of Jerusalem, but, before
attacking it, turned back to secure himself a base on the sea, through
which he could get stores and provisions from his ships. He took
Ascalon, therefore, and garrisoned it, and afterwards captured many
neighbouring forts, and intercepted a great caravan which was bringing
arms and stores for Saladin across the desert from Egypt. But when
he wished to start again for Jerusalem, dissensions broke out in the
crusading camp. The subject of dispute was the succession to the throne
of Jerusalem. Richard supported Guy of Lusignan, one of his Poitevin
vassals, while the French and the bulk of the other Crusaders wished
to elect an Italian prince, Conrad of Montferrat. The quarrel kept
the army idle till the hot season of 1092 arrived, and endured till
Conrad was slain by a Saracen fanatic; then Richard moved forward, but
when he had arrived within four hours' march of Jerusalem, the French
portion of the army, worn out by thirst and exhaustion, refused to
advance any further. Richard was forced to fall back when at the very
goal, and refused even to look upon the Holy City. "My eyes shall never
behold it, if my arm may not reconquer it," he cried, and, muffling his
face in his cloak, he turned back towards the coast.
[Sidenote: =Richard leaves Palestine.=]
After defeating the Saracens in another fight near Jaffa, Richard
patched up a truce for three years with Saladin, and resolved to return
home. It was obvious that with thinned ranks and disloyal allies he
could not retake Jerusalem, and he had received such news from England
as to the doings of his brother John and his neighbour King Philip,
that he was anxious to get home as soon as possible. So he made terms
with the sultan, by which Acre and the other places that he had
conquered were left to the Christians, and permission was given them to
make pilgrimages to Jerusalem without let or hindrance. Then, without
waiting for his fleet or his army, he started off in wild haste on a
private ship, intending to land at Venice and make his way overland
through Germany, for he could not trust himself in France after the
news that he had just received (1193).
[Sidenote: =Richard imprisoned in Germany.=]
But more haste proved less speed, in this as in so many other cases.
Richard's ship was wrecked in the Adriatic, and he had to land at
Ragusa. His path took him through the duchy of Leopold of Austria,
whom he had so grievously offended at the siege of Acre. Although he
was travelling in disguise, he was recognized at Vienna, and promptly
cast into prison by the revengeful duke. After keeping him awhile in
chains, Leopold sold him to his suzerain, the Emperor Henry VI. That
monarch, being thus placed by chance in possession of the person of
a sovereign with whom he was not at war, had the meanness to trump
up charges against Richard in order to have some excuse for making
him pay a ransom. So he accused his captive of having murdered Conrad
of Montferrat, of having unjustly deprived the rebel Isaac of Cyprus
of his realm, and of having insulted Leopold the Austrian. He was in
prison more than a year, and no one in England knew what had become of
him, since he had been travelling disguised and almost alone when he
was taken.
[Sidenote: =Discontent and intrigues in England.=]
Meanwhile, during the three years of Richard's absence England had
been much disturbed. William Longchamp, the haughty and tactless
bishop whom he had left behind him as Justiciar, made himself so much
disliked by his pride, his despotism, and his violence that there
was a general rising against him. The king's brother John, the Earl
of Cornwall, put himself at the head of the malcontents, and began
seizing all the royal castles on which he could lay hands. Longchamp
was at last forced to resign his place and fled over-sea, hardly
escaping the fury of the people at Dover, where he was caught in the
disguise of a huckster-woman and nearly pulled to pieces. His place as
Justiciar was taken by Archbishop Walter of Rouen, whom Richard sent
home from the Crusade for the purpose. Walter was a prudent and able
man, but found a hard task before him, for Earl John was set on making
himself a party in England, and aimed at the crown. When the news of
Richard's captivity reached London, John openly avowed his intention,
and allied himself with Philip of France. That prince had begun to
intrigue against the King of England the moment that he got back from
the Crusade. He had a claim on the Vexin, a district on the Norman
border, which he had once ceded to Henry II. on the understanding that
it should be the dowry of a French princess whom Richard was to marry.
As the marriage had never taken place, and the English king had chosen
another bride, Philip had much show of reason on his side. But he aimed
not only at recovering the Vexin, but at winning as much of his absent
neighbour's land as he could seize. With this object he offered to
support Earl John in his attempt to seize the English throne, in return
for some territorial gains. John was ready enough to agree, did homage
to him, and gave him up the Vexin and the city of Tours. Meanwhile they
both sent secret messages to the Emperor Henry, to beg him to detain
Richard in prison as long as possible.
[Sidenote: =Richard's ransom.=]
But Henry thought more of screwing money out of his prisoner than of
keeping him for ever in his grasp. He offered to release Richard on
receiving the enormous ransom of 150,000 marks (£100,000). It was a
huge sum for England to raise, but so anxious was the nation to get
back its king, that no hesitation was made in accepting the bargain.
Meanwhile John and Philip, knowing that their enemy would soon be
loose, were stirred up to hasty action. Philip raised his host and
attacked Normandy, but was beaten off with loss from Rouen. John hired
mercenary soldiers, gathered his friends, and seized a number of the
royal castles in England. But only a small number of discontented
barons backed him, and he was held in check by the loyal majority, led
by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Hubert Walter, who put himself at the
head of the king's party. Even while this civil war was in progress,
the money for Richard's ransom was being raised, by the imposition of a
crushing tax of "one-fourth on all movable goods, and twenty shillings
on every knight's fee."
[Sidenote: =Return of Richard.=]
In the spring of 1194 the emperor gave Richard his liberty, after
receiving the stipulated sum and making his prisoner swear an oath of
homage to him for his kingdom of England. But this preposterous vow
of allegiance was not taken seriously by Richard or by England, being
wrung by force from a helpless captive. On reaching England, the king
put himself at the head of the army which was operating against the
rebels, and took Nottingham and Tickhill, the two last strongholds
which held out. John himself fled over-sea; some months later he was
pardoned by his long-suffering brother.
Thus Richard was once more a free man, and in full possession of
his realm. There was much in the state of England that required the
master's eye, but the king was far more set on punishing his neighbour,
King Philip, than on attending to the wants of his subjects. After
appointing new officials to take charge of the kingdom, and raising
great sums of money, he hurried over to Normandy to plunge into
hostilities with the French.
[Sidenote: =War with France.--Taxation and discontent.=]
England never saw Richard again; indeed, in the whole course of his
ten years' reign, he only spent seven months on this side of the
channel. His heart was always in France, where he had been bred up, and
not in England, though he had been born in the palace of Beaumont, in
Oxford, not fifty yards from the spot where these lines are written.
The remaining six years of Richard's reign were entirely occupied in
fruitless and weary border wars with the French king. It was a war of
sieges and skirmishes, not of great battles. Richard held his own,
in spite of the rebellions stirred up by Philip among his vassals
in Aquitaine; but he did not succeed in crushing his adversary, as
might have been expected from his superior military skill. In England
the struggle was only felt through the heavy taxation which the king
imposed on the land, to keep up his large mercenary army over-sea.
Archbishop Hubert Walter ruled as Justiciar with considerable wisdom
and success, and as long as Richard was sent the money that he craved,
he left the realm to itself. Hubert's rule was not altogether a quiet
one, but the very troubles that arose against him show the growing
strength of national feeling and liberty in England. In 1198, the
Great Council, headed by Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, refused the king's
newest and most exorbitant schemes of taxation, and Hubert could not
force them to pay. London in the same year was disturbed by a great
democratic rising of the poorer citizens, headed by one William
Fitz-Osbert, called Longbeard, who rose in riot to compel the aldermen
to readjust the taxes of the city, and the Justiciar had to take arms
to put it down. Fitz-Osbert fortified himself in Bow Church, but was
wounded, taken, and hung.
[Sidenote: =Death of Richard.=]
An obscure and unworthy end was reserved for the restless and reckless
son of the great Henry. He heard that Widomar, Viscount of Limoges, one
of his vassals in Aquitaine, had found a great treasure-trove of gold,
and bade him give it up. The viscount would not surrender all his find,
so Richard laid siege to his castle of Chaluz. The place was taken, but
while directing the attack the king received a wound from a crossbow
bolt in his shoulder. His unskilful surgeons could not cure him, the
wound gangrened, and Richard saw that his days were numbered. When the
castle fell, Bertrand de Gourdon, the archer who had discharged the
fatal bolt, was sought out and brought to his bedside. "What had I done
that you should deal thus with me?" asked the king. "You slew my father
and my two brothers with your own hands," replied the soldier, "and now
I am ready to bear any torture since I know that you have to die." The
fierce answer touched a chord to which Richard could respond. He bade
his officers send the man away unharmed, but Mercadet, the chief among
his mercenary captains, kept Gourdon in bonds till the king breathed
his last, and then flayed him alive (April 6, 1199).
[Sidenote: =Rule of the Justiciar.--Coroners.=]
Of all the kings who ever ruled in this land Richard cared least for
England, and paid least attention to its needs. But his reign was not
therefore one that was harmful to his realm. The yoke of an absent
king, even if he be a spendthrift, is not so hard as that of a tyrant
who dwells at home, and England has known much worse days than those
of the later years of Richard Coeur de Lion. His ministers kept up the
traditions of the administration of Henry II., and ruled the land with
law and order, duly summoning the Great Council, assessing taxation
with its aid, and levying it with as little oppression as they could,
through agents selected by the nation. One considerable advance in
the direction of liberty was granted by Richard, when he allowed the
shire-moots to choose for themselves "_coroners_," officials who were
to take charge of the royal prerogatives in the counties in place of
the sheriff; they were to investigate such matters as murder, riot, or
injury to the king's lands or revenues, and the other offences which
were called "the pleas of the crown." Thus an officer chosen by the
people was substituted for one chosen by the crown, a great advantage
to those who were to come under his hand. The "coroner" still survives
in England, but all his duties save that of inquiring into cases of
suspicious death have long been stripped from him.
[Sidenote: =John and Arthur of Brittany.--War in France.=]
Richard the Lion-hearted left two male kinsmen to dispute about his
vast dominions. These were Arthur of Brittany, the son of his next
brother Geoffrey, and John of Cornwall, his false and turbulent
youngest brother. The English Great Council chose John as king without
any hesitation; they would not take Arthur, a mere boy of twelve, who
had never been seen in England; they preferred John in spite of his
great and obvious faults. But in the continental dominions of Richard
there was no such unanimity: the unruly barons of Anjou and Aquitaine
thought they would gain through having a powerless boy to reign over
them, rather than the unscrupulous and grasping Earl John. If it
had not been for the old queen dowager, Eleanor of Aquitaine, who
came forward to defend her best-loved son's claims, and to persuade
her Gascon vassals to adhere to his cause, John would never have
obtained any hold on the continent. By Eleanor's aid he triumphed for
a moment, but baron after baron rose against him, using Arthur's name
as his pretence, and civil war never ceased from the moment of John's
accession. Philip of France, who now, as always, had his own ends to
serve, feigned to espouse the cause of Arthur, and acknowledged him as
his uncle's heir alike in Normandy, Anjou, and Aquitaine. Thus the war
between France and England, which had dragged on through the reign of
Richard, continued in a new form all through the time of John. There
was a partial pacification in 1200, when Philip was bought off from
Arthur's cause by the cession of the county of Evreux; but he took arms
again in 1202, on the flimsy pretext that John, as Duke of Normandy,
refused to plead in French law courts against his own vassals.
[Sidenote: =Character and policy of John.=]
Philip was induced to resume the struggle mainly because of his rival's
growing unpopularity in all parts of his dominion. As king, John
displayed on a larger scale all the faults that he had shown before his
accession. All the vices of the Angevin house reached their highest
development in him; he was as hot-tempered as his father, as false as
his mother, as ungrateful as his brother Henry, as cruel, extravagant,
and reckless as his brother Richard. His own special characteristic
was a crooked and short-sighted cunning, which brought him through
the troubles of one moment only to involve him in deeper vexations in
the next. His reign in England had begun with heavy taxation for the
French war. He had irritated the baronage by divorcing his wife Hawise,
the heiress of the great earldom of Gloucester, without any cause or
reason. Then he had carried off by violence Isabella of Angoulême from
her affianced husband, the Count of La Marche, one of his greatest
vassals in Aquitaine, and married her in spite of the threats of the
Church.
[Sidenote: =Murder of Arthur of Brittany.=]
It was Count Hugh of La Marche who in revenge led the next rising of
the unruly French vassals of John. He sent for Arthur of Brittany,
who came to his aid with a great band of King Philip's knights, and
together they invaded Aquitaine and laid siege to Mirebeau, where lay
the old Queen Eleanor, John's one trusty supporter in the south. Roused
by the news of his mother's danger, the King of England made a hasty
dash on Mirebeau, surprised the rebel camp, and captured Arthur of
Brittany with all his chief supporters. This success was fated to be
his ruin, for when he found his nephew in his hands, John could not
resist the temptation to murder him. After keeping him in prison for
some months, he had him secretly slain in the castle of Rouen (April,
1203). The poor lad had only just reached the age of sixteen when he
was thus cut off.
[Sidenote: =Loss of John's continental dominions.=]
Arthur's murder profoundly shocked John's subjects on both sides of the
sea, but it was absolutely fatal to his cause in France. His rebellious
subjects, unable to use Arthur's name against their master any longer,
threw themselves into the hands of the King of France, and took him
as their direct lord and sovereign. Philip went through a solemn form
of summoning John, as Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, to present
himself at Paris, and there be tried for slaying his nephew. When John
failed--as was natural--to appear, he was condemned in his absence, and
adjudged to have forfeited all the fiefs that he held from the French
crown.
To give effect to his sentence, Philip invaded Normandy and began to
lay siege to its fortresses. John crossed to Normandy, but did not
take the field; his conduct was so strange that men thought that some
infatuation from heaven had fallen upon him as a judgment for having
slain his nephew. He lay at Rouen for many months, giving great feasts,
and boasting that when he chose he would drive King Philip out of the
duchy. But, instead of sallying out to make his vaunts good, he quietly
looked on, while Philip took town after town with little resistance.
The Normans did not love John, and fought feebly or not at all. Only
Château Gaillard, a great castle which Richard I. had built to guard
the valley of the lower Seine, made any serious defence. Instead of
opposing the enemy, John fled from Normandy and took refuge in England.
After his departure, Rouen and the remaining cities of the duchy
threw open their gates to the French. In the following year Philip
pursued his victorious career, and completed the conquest of Anjou and
Touraine. In 1206 he fell upon Aquitaine, and conquered Poitou and
Northern Guienne. Only the great ports of Bordeaux and La Rochelle,
with the southern half of Guienne, remained true to John.
Thus passed away, not only the great but ephemeral continental empire
which Henry II. had built up, but also the Norman duchy itself, whose
fortunes had been united to those of England for nearly a century and
a half. For the future the Plantagenet kings owned only a corner of
southern France, and were no longer great continental sovereigns. The
monarch's loss was the nation's gain. England's kings were no longer
foreigners; they did not spend half their time abroad, or devote their
whole energy to schemes of aggrandisement in France. The Anglo-Norman
barons, too, were compelled to become wholly English, since their
estates over-sea fell into the hands of the enemy and passed away
from them. In this way John's cruelty and shiftlessness did more for
England's good than the wisdom and strength of his father.
But in the mean while John, being deprived of his continental
dominions, was constrained to reside in England, and proved a most
undesirable neighbour to his unhappy subjects. After an unsuccessful
attempt to reconquer Poitou in 1206, he made peace with King Philip,
on such terms as he could obtain. Bordeaux and the duchy of Guienne
remained with him, but he was compelled to acquiesce in the loss of all
his other provinces.
[Sidenote: =Quarrel with Innocent III.--Stephen Langton.=]
John was barely quit of his disastrous French war when he became
involved in a quarrel with the papacy, of which the issue was even
more disgraceful than that of his strife with King Philip. In 1205
died Archbishop Hubert Walter, who had served King Richard so well
as Justiciar. In ordinary times his successor would have been duly
nominated by the king and elected by the monks of Canterbury, who
formed the cathedral chapter of that see. But John was in evil plight
at the time; he was universally disliked, and the clergy all over
Europe were being spurred on by the example of the bold and arrogant
Pope Innocent III. to assert new and unheard-of claims and privileges.
When the news of Hubert's death was brought, a majority of the monks
of Canterbury met in secret conclave and elected Reginald, their
sub-prior, as archbishop, without asking the king's leave. Reginald
at once started off for Rome to get his appointment confirmed by Pope
Innocent. When John heard what had been done, he came to Canterbury in
great wrath, and by threats and menaces compelled the monks to proceed
to a second election, and to chose his favourite, John de Grey, Bishop
of Norwich, to fill Hubert Walter's place. He then sent an embassy to
Rome to submit this election to the Pope. But Innocent III. would have
neither Reginald nor John for archbishop; he said that the first had
been secretly and illegally chosen, while the second had been imposed
on the chapter by force and threats. Then he took the unprecedented
step of appointing to the see himself; he made the representatives
of both John and Reginald come before him, and frightened or cajoled
them into accepting his nominee, Stephen Langton, a worthy and learned
English cardinal who resided with him at Rome. Langton was personally
all that could be desired, but it was a flagrantly illegal usurpation
that the Pope should impose him on the English king and nation without
their consent.
[Sidenote: =The interdict.=]
John was driven to fury by this arrogant claim of the Pope. He refused
to accept the nomination, or to allow Langton to enter England. In
return Innocent laid an interdict on the realm, suspending on his own
authority the celebration of divine service, closing the churches, and
even prohibiting the dead from being buried in consecrated ground. If
the English Church had stood by the king and refused to take notice
of this harsh decree, it would have been of little effect. But the
clergy always followed the Pope; they looked upon themselves as a
great international guild depending on the Roman see, and disregarded
all their rights and sympathies as Englishmen. The majority of the
bishops published the interdict, and bade their flocks observe it. Many
of them, fearing John's inevitable wrath, fled over-sea the moment
that they had promulgated the sentence (1208). They were wise to do
so, for the king raged furiously against the whole body of clergy; he
exiled the monks of Canterbury, seized the estates and revenues of the
absconding bishops, and declared that, till the interdict was removed,
all ecclesiastical persons should be outside the pale of the law. They
should not be allowed to appear in the courts, and no one who molested
them should be punished. John set the example of seizing clerical
property himself, and many of his courtiers and officers followed his
lead.
[Sidenote: =The Pope deposes John.=]
Thus began a long struggle between the power of the Pope and that
of the king. For five years it continued, to the great misery of
England, for the nation was deeply religious, and felt most keenly the
deprivation of all its spiritual privileges. Yet for a long time the
people stood by the king, for it was generally felt that the Pope's
arbitrary conduct was indefensible. John himself cared nought for
papal censures, as long as nothing more than spiritual pressure was
brought to bear on him. He filled his coffers with Church money, and
laughed at the interdict. But presently Innocent found a more effective
way of bending the king's will. He proclaimed that he would depose John
for contumacy, and give his kingdom to another. The mandate to drive
him out was entrusted to John's old and active foe, Philip of France,
who at once began to prepare a great fleet and army in Normandy (1213).
[Sidenote: =John's surrender.=]
The English barons and people were more angered than frightened, and
a great army mustered on Barham Down, in Kent, to oppose the French
landing. But the king himself was much cowed by the Pope's threat. He
knew that he was disliked and despised by his subjects, and he did not
trust them in the hour of danger. Instead of fighting the quarrel out,
he made secret proffers of submission. So the Pope's envoy, Pandulf,
came to Dover, and received John's abject surrender. Not only did he
agree to acknowledge Langton as archbishop, and to restore all the
lands and revenues of which he had robbed the Church, but he stooped to
win Innocent's favour by doing homage to him, and declaring the kingdom
of England a fief of the Holy See. He gave his crown into Pandulf's
hands, and then took it back from him as a gift from the Pope. In
return the papal mandate to Philip was withdrawn, and Pandulf bade the
French king dismiss his fleet and army, and cease to make war on the
vassal of the Church (May, 1213).
John's gift of the English crown to the Pope had been done secretly and
privately, without any summoning or consulting of the Great Council;
it had been accomplished behind the back of the nation. When it became
known, the baronage and the people were alike disgusted at the king's
grovelling submission. He had induced them to suffer untold miseries in
his cause, and had then left them in the lurch and surrendered all that
they had been fighting for.
[Sidenote: =Destruction of the French fleet.=]
For the moment, however, John's intrigue had its success. The papal
approval was withdrawn from the King of France, and--what was of more
importance--an English fleet under William Longsword, the Earl of
Salisbury fell upon the French invasion-flotilla as it lay in the
Port of Damme, and took or sunk well-nigh every vessel. The king was
free from danger again, and talked of taking the offensive against the
French and crushing his enemy Philip.
[Sidenote: =The baronage and Archbishop Langton.=]
The last act of John's troubled reign was now beginning. While the king
was dreaming of nothing but war in France, the nation was preparing
to put a stop to his erratic and tyrannical rule by armed force. When
Archbishop Langton was received in England, he proved himself no mere
creature of the Pope, but a good Englishman. One of his first acts
was to propose to the baronage, at a great assembly in St. Paul's
Cathedral, that the king should be asked to ratify and reissue the
charter that his great-grandfather Henry I. had granted to the English
people, binding himself to abstain from all vexatious and oppressive
customs, and abide by the ancient customs of the realm. This proposal
was accepted at once by the great majority of the barons as the wisest
and most constitutional means of bringing pressure on the king.
[Sidenote: =Invasion of France.--Defeat and return of John.=]
John meanwhile had called out the whole military force of the nation
for an invasion of France. But all the barons of the North refused to
follow him, and so great was the discontent of the English that he had
mainly to depend on foreign mercenaries. He staked all his fortunes on
the ensuing campaign, believing that if he could reconquer his lost
continental dominions, he would afterwards win his way to complete
control in England. His schemes were very far-reaching: Philip was to
be attacked from north and south at once; while John was to land in
Poitou and march on the Loire, a great confederacy of John's allies
were to assail France from the north. This league was headed by John's
nephew, Otho of Saxony, who claimed the title of emperor, but had
been withstood in Germany by competitors whom Philip of France had
supported. In revenge Otho gathered a North-German army, supported
by the Dukes of Brabant and Holland, and the Counts of Boulogne and
Flanders. John sent a mercenary force under the Earl of Salisbury to
join him, and the combined host entered France and met King Philip at
Bouvines, near Lille. John had trusted that his own attack on southern
France would have distracted the French king's attention, but Philip
left him almost unopposed, and gathered the whole force of France to
oppose the Germans and Flemings. While John was overrunning Poitou and
storming Angers, Philip was crushing his confederates. At the battle
of Bouvines the combined army was scattered to the winds; the emperor
was put to flight, and the Earl of Salisbury and the Count of Boulogne
captured (July 27, 1214). Otho of Saxony was ruined by the fight, and
never raised his head again; nor did any German host invade France for
the next three hundred years. John, though he had not been present at
the fight, was as effectually crushed as Otho. Free from danger from
the north, the French king turned upon him, and drove him out of his
ephemeral conquests in Poitou, so that he had to return to England
completely foiled and beaten.
[Sidenote: =The barons take up arms.=]
But in England John had now to face his angry baronage. When he came
home in wrath, and began to threaten to punish every man who had not
followed him to the invasion of France, the barons drew together
and prepared for armed resistance. In earlier days we have seen the
English nobility withstanding the king in the cause of feudal anarchy.
In the time of Stephen or of Henry II., the crown had represented
the interests of the nation, and the barons those of their own class
alone. It was then for England's good that the king should succeed in
establishing a strong central government by putting down his turbulent
vassals. But now things were changed. Henry II. had made the crown so
strong that the nation was in far greater danger of misgovernment by
a tyrannical king than of anarchy under a mob of feudal chiefs. The
barons did not any longer represent themselves alone; they were closely
allied both with the Church and with the people for the defence of the
common rights of all three against a grasping and unscrupulous monarch.
In the present struggle the baronage were headed by the Archbishop of
Canterbury, their wisest counsellor, and they were everywhere supported
both by the towns and by the smaller freemen of the whole realm.
We shall see that in the oncoming struggle they demanded, not new
privileges for themselves, but law and liberty for every subject of the
English crown.
The first meeting of the barons was held at Bury St. Edmunds, in
November, 1214: it was attended mainly by the lords of the North; the
majority of the nobility had not yet moved. They formulated their
demand that the king should give England a charter of liberties, drew
up a list of the points which were to be insisted on, and determined
to go in arms to the king at Christmas to lay their requests before
him. John was seriously frightened; he asked the Pope's aid, took the
vows of a crusader in order to get the sympathy of the Church on his
side, and collected an army of mercenaries. But when he sounded the
intentions of those of his vassals who had not yet taken arms, he found
that one and all approved of the demands of the insurgent barons, and
refused to aid him against them.
[Sidenote: =Meeting at Runnymede.=]
John was always lacking in moral courage; instead of taking the field
at the head of his mercenaries, he began to treat with the rebels,
resolved to grant all they asked, and then to bide his time and
repudiate his promises at the earliest possible opportunity. So befell
the famous meeting at Runnymede, where the king solemnly swore to grant
all the provisions of the "Great Charter," which had been drawn up for
his signature by Archbishop Langton and a committee composed of an
equal number of the insurgent barons and of those who had not taken up
arms.
[Sidenote: =The Great Charter.=]
The Great Charter was signed on the 15th of June, 1215, in the presence
of the archbishop, the whole of the baronage, and a vast assembly of
all ranks. It is a document of sixty-three clauses, of which many were
quite trivial and related to purely personal or local grievances. But
the important part of its provisions may be summed up under six heads.
Firstly, the king promises that "the English Church shall be
free"--free, that is, from violent interference in the election of its
prelates, and from illegal taxation.
Secondly, the feudal rights of the king over his tenants-in-chief are
defined. He is only to raise the customary "aids" and dues, and their
amount is laid down. His rights of wardship over widows and orphans are
stated and limited. In a similar way the tenants-in-chief promise to
exercise only these same rights over their own vassals.
Thirdly, there is to be no taxation without the consent of the Great
Council--the first indication of the control of Parliament over the
national revenues.
Fourthly, the administration of justice is to be strengthened and
purified. No one is to be tried or punished more than once for the same
offence. No one is to be imprisoned on the king's private fiat, but if
arrested he must be at once put on trial, and that before a jury of
his peers. Fines for every sort of offence are to be fixed and made
proportionate to the crime, not to the king's idea of the amount he
could extract from the criminal.
Fifthly, the king is not to put foreigners, ignorant of the laws of
England, in any judicial or administrative post, and he is at once to
dismiss all his foreign mercenary troops.
Sixthly, the city of London, and all other cities which enjoy rights
and privileges under earlier royal charters, are to be fully confirmed
in them.
The Great Charter then plunges into a mass of smaller grievances, where
we need not follow it. But it ends with a most peculiar and important
clause, which shows how little the baronage trusted the king. A body of
twenty-five guardians of the Charter is appointed, who undertake to see
that the king carries it out, and they are authorized to constrain him
to observe it by force of arms if he swerves from his plighted word.
These guardians include seven earls, fourteen barons, three sons of
great lords whose fathers still survived, and the Mayor of London.
The character of _Magna Carta_ is very noticeable; it is rather
unsystematic in shape, being mainly composed of a list of grievances
which are to be remedied. It does not purport to be a full statement of
the English constitution, but only a recapitulation of the points on
which the king had violated it. But it is not merely a check on John's
evil doings, but a solemn engagement between the king, the barons,
the Church, and the people that each shall respect the rights of the
other. Wherever it is stated that the king is to abstain from using
any particular malpractice against his vassals, it is also added that
his vassals will on their part never use that same form of oppression
against their own tenants. Thus it guarantees the rights of the small
man against the great, no less than those of the great man against the
king. It is in this respect that the Charter differs from many grants
of privileges exacted by foreign nobles from foreign kings. Abroad the
barons often curbed the royal power, but they did it for their own
selfish ends alone, not for the common good of the nation.
[Sidenote: =John's faithlessness.--Attitude of the Pope.=]
John had signed the Charter in a moment of fear and depression of
spirits. He did not intend to observe it a moment longer than he could
help, and called its provisions "mere foolishness." When the barons
dispersed, he violated his engagements by gathering another great horde
of mercenaries, and sent to Rome to his suzerain Innocent III., to get
absolution from the oath he had sworn. As he had once utilized the
nation against the Pope, so he would now utilize the Pope against the
nation.
[Sidenote: =Civil war.=]
Innocent, who cared nothing for the rights or wrongs of England,
resolved to support his obedient vassal. He censured Archbishop Langton
for siding with the barons, and summoned him to Rome to answer for his
conduct. He freed the king from his oath, and he swore that he would
excommunicate any man who took arms against him. But John had taught
his barons to despise ecclesiastical thunders. They flew to arms, and
war broke out. The king at first had the advantage; his mercenaries
were all at hand, and the barons were scattered and unorganized. The
king took Rochester, and hung the garrison who held out against him,
and then started northward, harrying the land with fire and sword as
far as Berwick.
[Sidenote: =Lewis of France elected king by the barons.=]
Provoked beyond endurance, the majority of the barons swore that they
would cast away John and all his house. They declared him deposed,
and resolved to choose a new king. But they made a great mistake in
their choice, for they offered the crown to Lewis, the Prince-royal
of France, who had married Blanche, one of John's nieces. Any other
candidate would have been better, for Lewis was the son of King Philip,
the great enemy of England, and by calling him in, the barons seemed to
be allying themselves with the national foe. Many who would have gladly
served against John in another cause, refused to take arms in that of
the Frenchman (1216).
[Sidenote: =Lewis in England.--Death of John.=]
Meanwhile Prince Lewis landed in Kent, was received into London, and
became master of all eastern England. But he soon found that he was the
king of a faction, not of the whole nation. Many of the barons joined
John rather than serve a foreigner; many more remained neutral. The
whole realm was divided; here and there castles and towns held out
against the new king, and in especial the seamen and merchants of the
Cinque Ports refused to open their gates to a Frenchman. John resolved
to try the ordeal of battle; he took Lincoln, and marched southward.
But while his army was crossing the sea-marshes of the Wash it was
overtaken by a high tide, and all his baggage and treasure, with many
of his men, were swept away. John himself escaped with difficulty,
and fell ill next day, of rage and grief and overexertion, as is most
probable, though contemporary writers thought he had been poisoned. To
the great benefit of England, he died within a week of his seizure, at
Newark Castle (October 19, 1216). No man had a good word to say for
him; cruel, perjured, rash and cowardly by turns, an evil-liver, a
treacherous son and brother, he was loathed by every one who knew him.