Chapter XIII - England Under Richard the First, Called the Lion-Heart

by Charles Dickens

　　In the year of our Lord one thousand one hundred and eighty-nine,Richard of the Lion Heart succeeded to the throne of King Henry theSecond, whose paternal heart he had done so much to break. He hadbeen, as we have seen, a rebel from his boyhood; but, the moment hebecame a king against whom others might rebel, he found out thatrebellion was a great wickedness. In the heat of this piousdiscovery, he punished all the leading people who had befriendedhim against his father. He could scarcely have done anything thatwould have been a better instance of his real nature, or a betterwarning to fawners and parasites not to trust in lion-heartedprinces.

　　He likewise put his late father's treasurer in chains, and lockedhim up in a dungeon from which he was not set free until he hadrelinquished, not only all the Crown treasure, but all his ownmoney too. So, Richard certainly got the Lion's share of thewealth of this wretched treasurer, whether he had a Lion's heart ornot.

　　He was crowned King of England, with great pomp, at Westminster:walking to the Cathedral under a silken canopy stretched on thetops of four lances, each carried by a great lord. On the day ofhis coronation, a dreadful murdering of the Jews took place, whichseems to have given great delight to numbers of savage personscalling themselves Christians. The King had issued a proclamationforbidding the Jews (who were generally hated, though they were themost useful merchants in England) to appear at the ceremony; but asthey had assembled in London from all parts, bringing presents toshow their respect for the new Sovereign, some of them ventureddown to Westminster Hall with their gifts; which were very readilyaccepted. It is supposed, now, that some noisy fellow in thecrowd, pretending to be a very delicate Christian, set up a howl atthis, and struck a Jew who was trying to get in at the Hall doorwith his present. A riot arose. The Jews who had got into theHall, were driven forth; and some of the rabble cried out that thenew King had commanded the unbelieving race to be put to death.Thereupon the crowd rushed through the narrow streets of the city,slaughtering all the Jews they met; and when they could find nomore out of doors (on account of their having fled to their houses,and fastened themselves in), they ran madly about, breaking openall the houses where the Jews lived, rushing in and stabbing orspearing them, sometimes even flinging old people and children outof window into blazing fires they had lighted up below. This greatcruelty lasted four-and-twenty hours, and only three men werepunished for it. Even they forfeited their lives not for murderingand robbing the Jews, but for burning the houses of someChristians.

　　King Richard, who was a strong, restless, burly man, with one ideaalways in his head, and that the very troublesome idea of breakingthe heads of other men, was mightily impatient to go on a Crusadeto the Holy Land, with a great army. As great armies could not beraised to go, even to the Holy Land, without a great deal of money,he sold the Crown domains, and even the high offices of State;recklessly appointing noblemen to rule over his English subjects,not because they were fit to govern, but because they could payhigh for the privilege. In this way, and by selling pardons at adear rate and by varieties of avarice and oppression, he scrapedtogether a large treasure. He then appointed two Bishops to takecare of his kingdom in his absence, and gave great powers andpossessions to his brother John, to secure his friendship. Johnwould rather have been made Regent of England; but he was a slyman, and friendly to the expedition; saying to himself, no doubt,'The more fighting, the more chance of my brother being killed; andwhen he is killed, then I become King John!'

　　Before the newly levied army departed from England, the recruitsand the general populace distinguished themselves by astonishingcruelties on the unfortunate Jews: whom, in many large towns, theymurdered by hundreds in the most horrible manner.

　　At York, a large body of Jews took refuge in the Castle, in theabsence of its Governor, after the wives and children of many ofthem had been slain before their eyes. Presently came theGovernor, and demanded admission. 'How can we give it thee, OGovernor!' said the Jews upon the walls, 'when, if we open the gateby so much as the width of a foot, the roaring crowd behind theewill press in and kill us?'

　　Upon this, the unjust Governor became angry, and told the peoplethat he approved of their killing those Jews; and a mischievousmaniac of a friar, dressed all in white, put himself at the head ofthe assault, and they assaulted the Castle for three days.

　　Then said Jocen, the head-Jew (who was a Rabbi or Priest), to therest, 'Brethren, there is no hope for us with the Christians whoare hammering at the gates and walls, and who must soon break in.As we and our wives and children must die, either by Christianhands, or by our own, let it be by our own. Let us destroy by firewhat jewels and other treasure we have here, then fire the castle,and then perish!'

　　A few could not resolve to do this, but the greater part complied.They made a blazing heap of all their valuables, and, when thosewere consumed, set the castle in flames. While the flames roaredand crackled around them, and shooting up into the sky, turned itblood-red, Jocen cut the throat of his beloved wife, and stabbedhimself. All the others who had wives or children, did the likedreadful deed. When the populace broke in, they found (except thetrembling few, cowering in corners, whom they soon killed) onlyheaps of greasy cinders, with here and there something like part ofthe blackened trunk of a burnt tree, but which had lately been ahuman creature, formed by the beneficent hand of the Creator asthey were.

　　After this bad beginning, Richard and his troops went on, in novery good manner, with the Holy Crusade. It was undertaken jointlyby the King of England and his old friend Philip of France. Theycommenced the business by reviewing their forces, to the number ofone hundred thousand men. Afterwards, they severally embarkedtheir troops for Messina, in Sicily, which was appointed as thenext place of meeting.

　　King Richard's sister had married the King of this place, but hewas dead: and his uncle Tancred had usurped the crown, cast theRoyal Widow into prison, and possessed himself of her estates.Richard fiercely demanded his sister's release, the restoration ofher lands, and (according to the Royal custom of the Island) thatshe should have a golden chair, a golden table, four-and-twentysilver cups, and four-and-twenty silver dishes. As he was toopowerful to be successfully resisted, Tancred yielded to hisdemands; and then the French King grew jealous, and complained thatthe English King wanted to be absolute in the Island of Messina andeverywhere else. Richard, however, cared little or nothing forthis complaint; and in consideration of a present of twentythousand pieces of gold, promised his pretty little nephew Arthur,then a child of two years old, in marriage to Tancred's daughter.We shall hear again of pretty little Arthur by-and-by.

　　This Sicilian affair arranged without anybody's brains beingknocked out (which must have rather disappointed him), King Richardtook his sister away, and also a fair lady named Berengaria, withwhom he had fallen in love in France, and whom his mother, QueenEleanor (so long in prison, you remember, but released by Richardon his coming to the Throne), had brought out there to be his wife;and sailed with them for Cyprus.

　　He soon had the pleasure of fighting the King of the Island ofCyprus, for allowing his subjects to pillage some of the Englishtroops who were shipwrecked on the shore; and easily conqueringthis poor monarch, he seized his only daughter, to be a companionto the lady Berengaria, and put the King himself into silverfetters. He then sailed away again with his mother, sister, wife,and the captive princess; and soon arrived before the town of Acre,which the French King with his fleet was besieging from the sea.But the French King was in no triumphant condition, for his armyhad been thinned by the swords of the Saracens, and wasted by theplague; and Saladin, the brave Sultan of the Turks, at the head ofa numerous army, was at that time gallantly defending the placefrom the hills that rise above it.

　　Wherever the united army of Crusaders went, they agreed in fewpoints except in gaming, drinking, and quarrelling, in a mostunholy manner; in debauching the people among whom they tarried,whether they were friends or foes; and in carrying disturbance andruin into quiet places. The French King was jealous of the EnglishKing, and the English King was jealous of the French King, and thedisorderly and violent soldiers of the two nations were jealous ofone another; consequently, the two Kings could not at first agree,even upon a joint assault on Acre; but when they did make up theirquarrel for that purpose, the Saracens promised to yield the town,to give up to the Christians the wood of the Holy Cross, to set atliberty all their Christian captives, and to pay two hundredthousand pieces of gold. All this was to be done within fortydays; but, not being done, King Richard ordered some three thousandSaracen prisoners to be brought out in the front of his camp, andthere, in full view of their own countrymen, to be butchered.

　　The French King had no part in this crime; for he was by that timetravelling homeward with the greater part of his men; beingoffended by the overbearing conduct of the English King; beinganxious to look after his own dominions; and being ill, besides,from the unwholesome air of that hot and sandy country. KingRichard carried on the war without him; and remained in the East,meeting with a variety of adventures, nearly a year and a half.Every night when his army was on the march, and came to a halt, theheralds cried out three times, to remind all the soldiers of thecause in which they were engaged, 'Save the Holy Sepulchre!' andthen all the soldiers knelt and said 'Amen!' Marching orencamping, the army had continually to strive with the hot air ofthe glaring desert, or with the Saracen soldiers animated anddirected by the brave Saladin, or with both together. Sickness anddeath, battle and wounds, were always among them; but through everydifficulty King Richard fought like a giant, and worked like acommon labourer. Long and long after he was quiet in his grave,his terrible battle-axe, with twenty English pounds of Englishsteel in its mighty head, was a legend among the Saracens; and whenall the Saracen and Christian hosts had been dust for many a year,if a Saracen horse started at any object by the wayside, his riderwould exclaim, 'What dost thou fear, Fool? Dost thou think KingRichard is behind it?'

　　No one admired this King's renown for bravery more than Saladinhimself, who was a generous and gallant enemy. When Richard layill of a fever, Saladin sent him fresh fruits from Damascus, andsnow from the mountain-tops. Courtly messages and compliments werefrequently exchanged between them - and then King Richard wouldmount his horse and kill as many Saracens as he could; and Saladinwould mount his, and kill as many Christians as he could. In thisway King Richard fought to his heart's content at Arsoof and atJaffa; and finding himself with nothing exciting to do at Ascalon,except to rebuild, for his own defence, some fortifications therewhich the Saracens had destroyed, he kicked his ally the Duke ofAustria, for being too proud to work at them.

　　The army at last came within sight of the Holy City of Jerusalem;but, being then a mere nest of jealousy, and quarrelling andfighting, soon retired, and agreed with the Saracens upon a trucefor three years, three months, three days, and three hours. Then,the English Christians, protected by the noble Saladin from Saracenrevenge, visited Our Saviour's tomb; and then King Richard embarkedwith a small force at Acre to return home.

　　But he was shipwrecked in the Adriatic Sea, and was fain to passthrough Germany, under an assumed name. Now, there were manypeople in Germany who had served in the Holy Land under that proudDuke of Austria who had been kicked; and some of them, easilyrecognising a man so remarkable as King Richard, carried theirintelligence to the kicked Duke, who straightway took him prisonerat a little inn near Vienna.

　　The Duke's master the Emperor of Germany, and the King of France,were equally delighted to have so troublesome a monarch in safekeeping. Friendships which are founded on a partnership in doingwrong, are never true; and the King of France was now quite asheartily King Richard's foe, as he had ever been his friend in hisunnatural conduct to his father. He monstrously pretended thatKing Richard had designed to poison him in the East; he charged himwith having murdered, there, a man whom he had in truth befriended;he bribed the Emperor of Germany to keep him close prisoner; and,finally, through the plotting of these two princes, Richard wasbrought before the German legislature, charged with the foregoingcrimes, and many others. But he defended himself so well, thatmany of the assembly were moved to tears by his eloquence andearnestness. It was decided that he should be treated, during therest of his captivity, in a manner more becoming his dignity thanhe had been, and that he should be set free on the payment of aheavy ransom. This ransom the English people willingly raised.When Queen Eleanor took it over to Germany, it was at first evadedand refused. But she appealed to the honour of all the princes ofthe German Empire in behalf of her son, and appealed so well thatit was accepted, and the King released. Thereupon, the King ofFrance wrote to Prince John - 'Take care of thyself. The devil isunchained!'

　　Prince John had reason to fear his brother, for he had been atraitor to him in his captivity. He had secretly joined the FrenchKing; had vowed to the English nobles and people that his brotherwas dead; and had vainly tried to seize the crown. He was now inFrance, at a place called Evreux. Being the meanest and basest ofmen, he contrived a mean and base expedient for making himselfacceptable to his brother. He invited the French officers of thegarrison in that town to dinner, murdered them all, and then tookthe fortress. With this recommendation to the good will of a lion-hearted monarch, he hastened to King Richard, fell on his kneesbefore him, and obtained the intercession of Queen Eleanor. 'Iforgive him,' said the King, 'and I hope I may forget the injury hehas done me, as easily as I know he will forget my pardon.'

　　While King Richard was in Sicily, there had been trouble in hisdominions at home: one of the bishops whom he had left in chargethereof, arresting the other; and making, in his pride andambition, as great a show as if he were King himself. But the Kinghearing of it at Messina, and appointing a new Regency, thisLongchamp (for that was his name) had fled to France in a woman'sdress, and had there been encouraged and supported by the FrenchKing. With all these causes of offence against Philip in his mind,King Richard had no sooner been welcomed home by his enthusiasticsubjects with great display and splendour, and had no sooner beencrowned afresh at Winchester, than he resolved to show the FrenchKing that the Devil was unchained indeed, and made war against himwith great fury.

　　There was fresh trouble at home about this time, arising out of thediscontents of the poor people, who complained that they were farmore heavily taxed than the rich, and who found a spirited championin William Fitz-Osbert, called Longbeard. He became the leader ofa secret society, comprising fifty thousand men; he was seized bysurprise; he stabbed the citizen who first laid hands upon him; andretreated, bravely fighting, to a church, which he maintained fourdays, until he was dislodged by fire, and run through the body ashe came out. He was not killed, though; for he was dragged, halfdead, at the tail of a horse to Smithfield, and there hanged.Death was long a favourite remedy for silencing the people'sadvocates; but as we go on with this history, I fancy we shall findthem difficult to make an end of, for all that.

　　The French war, delayed occasionally by a truce, was still inprogress when a certain Lord named Vidomar, Viscount of Limoges,chanced to find in his ground a treasure of ancient coins. As theKing's vassal, he sent the King half of it; but the King claimedthe whole. The lord refused to yield the whole. The King besiegedthe lord in his castle, swore that he would take the castle bystorm, and hang every man of its defenders on the battlements.

　　There was a strange old song in that part of the country, to theeffect that in Limoges an arrow would be made by which King Richardwould die. It may be that Bertrand de Gourdon, a young man who wasone of the defenders of the castle, had often sung it or heard itsung of a winter night, and remembered it when he saw, from hispost upon the ramparts, the King attended only by his chief officerriding below the walls surveying the place. He drew an arrow tothe head, took steady aim, said between his teeth, 'Now I pray Godspeed thee well, arrow!' discharged it, and struck the King in theleft shoulder.

　　Although the wound was not at first considered dangerous, it wassevere enough to cause the King to retire to his tent, and directthe assault to be made without him. The castle was taken; andevery man of its defenders was hanged, as the King had sworn allshould be, except Bertrand de Gourdon, who was reserved until theroyal pleasure respecting him should be known.

　　By that time unskilful treatment had made the wound mortal and theKing knew that he was dying. He directed Bertrand to be broughtinto his tent. The young man was brought there, heavily chained,King Richard looked at him steadily. He looked, as steadily, atthe King.

　　'Knave!' said King Richard. 'What have I done to thee that thoushouldest take my life?'

　　'What hast thou done to me?' replied the young man. 'With thineown hands thou hast killed my father and my two brothers. Myselfthou wouldest have hanged. Let me die now, by any torture thatthou wilt. My comfort is, that no torture can save Thee. Thou toomust die; and, through me, the world is quit of thee!'

　　Again the King looked at the young man steadily. Again the youngman looked steadily at him. Perhaps some remembrance of hisgenerous enemy Saladin, who was not a Christian, came into the mindof the dying King.

　　'Youth!' he said, 'I forgive thee. Go unhurt!' Then, turning tothe chief officer who had been riding in his company when hereceived the wound, King Richard said:

　　'Take off his chains, give him a hundred shillings, and let himdepart.'

　　He sunk down on his couch, and a dark mist seemed in his weakenedeyes to fill the tent wherein he had so often rested, and he died.His age was forty-two; he had reigned ten years. His last commandwas not obeyed; for the chief officer flayed Bertrand de Gourdonalive, and hanged him.

　　There is an old tune yet known - a sorrowful air will sometimesoutlive many generations of strong men, and even last longer thanbattle-axes with twenty pounds of steel in the head - by which thisKing is said to have been discovered in his captivity. Blondel, afavourite Minstrel of King Richard, as the story relates,faithfully seeking his Royal master, went singing it outside thegloomy walls of many foreign fortresses and prisons; until at lasthe heard it echoed from within a dungeon, and knew the voice, andcried out in ecstasy, 'O Richard, O my King!' You may believe it,if you like; it would be easy to believe worse things. Richard washimself a Minstrel and a Poet. If he had not been a Prince too, hemight have been a better man perhaps, and might have gone out ofthe world with less bloodshed and waste of life to answer for.