And this was the terrible coronation scene which signalized the investiture of Richard with the crown and the royal robes of England.



CHAPTER VI.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUSADE.

1189

Richard was thirty-two years of age at his accession.—His ardent desires for distinction in crusades.—Motives of the crusaders.—A strange delusion.—The preparations.—Navies.—Armies.—Accoutrements.—Customs of old times.—Richard's reckless course.—Richard sold lands, offices, and titles of honor.—Extortion under pretense of public justice.—Creating a regency.—Richard's regents.—John's acquiescence.—The time for sailing appointed.—Richard crosses the Channel.—Fears of treachery.—The treaty of alliance between Richard and Philip.—Completion of the preparations.

At the time of his accession to the throne, Richard, as has already been remarked, was about thirty-two years of age. On the following page you have a portrait of him, with the crown upon his head.

This portrait is taken from a sculpture on his tomb, and is undoubtedly a good representation of him as he appeared when he was alive.



The first thing that Richard turned his attention to, when he found himself securely seated on his throne, was the preparation for a crusade. It had been the height of his ambition for a long time to lead a crusade. It was undoubtedly through the influence of his mother, and of her early conversations with him, that he imbibed his extraordinary eagerness to seek adventures in the Holy Land. She had been a crusader herself during her first marriage, as has already been related in this volume, and she had undoubtedly, in Richard's early life, entertained him with a thousand stories of what she had seen, and of the romantic adventures which she had met with there. These stories, and the various conversations which arose out of them, kindled Richard's youthful imagination with ardent desires to go and distinguish himself on the same field. These desires had been greatly increased as Richard grew up to manhood by observing the exalted military glory to which successful crusaders attained. And then, besides this, Richard was endued with a sort of reckless and lion-like courage, which led him to look upon danger as a sport, and made him long for a field where there were plenty of enemies to fight, and enemies so abhorred by the whole Christian world that he could indulge in the excitement of hatred and rage against them without any restraint whatever. He could there satiate himself, too, with the luxury of killing men without any misgiving of conscience, or, at least, without any condemnation on the part of his fellow-men, for it was understood throughout Christendom that the crimes committed against the Saracens in the Holy Land were committed in the name of Christ. What a strange delusion! To think of honoring the memory of the meek and lowly Jesus by utterly disregarding his peaceful precepts and his loving and gentle example, and going forth in thousands to the work of murder, rapine, and devastation, in order to get possession of his tomb.

* * * * *

In preparing for the crusade, the first and most important thing to be attended to, in Richard's view, was the raising of money. A great deal of money would be required, as has already been intimated, to fit out the expedition on the magnificent scale which Richard intended. There was a fleet of ships to be built and equipped, and stores of provisions to be put on board. There were armies to be levied and paid, and immense expenses were to be incurred in the manufacture of arms and ammunition. The armor and the arms used in those days, especially those worn by knights and noblemen, and the caparisons of the horses, were extremely costly. The armor was fashioned with great labor and skill out of plates or rings of steel, and the helmets, and the bucklers, and the swords, and all the military trappings of the horses and horsemen, being fashioned altogether by hand, required great labor and skill in the artisan who made them; and then, moreover, it was customary to decorate them very profusely with embroidery, and gold, and gems. At the present day, men display their wealth in the costliness of their houses, and the gorgeousness and luxury of the furniture which they contain. It is not considered in good taste—except for ladies—to make a display of wealth upon the person. In those days, however, the reverse was the case. The knights and barons lived in the rudest stone castles, dark and frowning without, and meagerly furnished and comfortless within, while all the means of display which the owners possessed were lavished in arming and decorating themselves and their horses magnificently for the field of battle.

For all these things Richard knew that he should require a large sum of money, and he proceeded at once to carry into effect the most wasteful and reckless measures for obtaining it. His father, Henry the Second, had in various ways acquired a great many estates in different parts of the kingdom, which estates he had added to the royal domains. These Richard at once proceeded to sell to whomsoever would give the most for them. In this manner he disposed of a great number of castles, fortresses, and towns, so as greatly to diminish the value of the crown property. The purchasers of this property, if they had not money enough of their own to pay for what they bought, would borrow of the Jews. Some of the king's counselors remonstrated with him against this wasteful policy, but he replied that he needed money so much for the crusade, that, if necessary, he would sell the city of London itself to raise it, if he could only find a man rich enough to be the purchaser.

After having raised as much money as he could by the sale of the royal lands, the next resource to which Richard turned was the sale of public offices and titles of honor. He looked about the country for wealthy men, and he offered them severally high office on condition of their paying large sums of money into the treasury as a consideration for them. He sold titles of nobility, too, in the same way. If any man who was not rich held a high or important office, he would find some pretext for removing him, and then would offer the office for sale. One of the historians of those times says that at this period Richard's presence-chamber became a regular place of trade—like the counting-room of a merchant or an exchange—where every thing that could be derived from the bounty of the crown or bestowed by the royal prerogative was offered for sale in open market to the man who would give the best bargain for it.

Another of the modes which the king adopted for raising money, and in some respects the worst of all, was to impose fines as a punishment for crime, and then, in order to make the fines produce as much as possible, every imaginable pretext was resorted to to charge wealthy persons with offenses, with a view of exacting large sums from them as the penalty. It was said that a great officer of state was charged with some offense, and was put in prison and not released until he had paid a fine of three thousand pounds.

One of the worst of these cases was that of his half-brother Geoffrey, the son of Rosamond. Geoffrey had been appointed Archbishop of York in accordance with the wish that his father Henry had expressed on his death-bed. Richard pretended to be displeased with this. Perhaps he wished to have had that office to dispose of like the rest. At any rate, he exacted a very large sum from Geoffrey as the condition on which he would "grant him his peace," as he termed it, and Geoffrey paid the money.

When, by these and other similar means, Richard had raised all that he could in England, he prepared to cross the Channel into Normandy, in order to see what more he could do there. Before he went, however, he had first to make arrangements for a regency to govern England while he should be away. This is always the custom in monarchical countries. Whenever, for any reason, the true sovereign can not personally exercise the supreme power, whether from minority, insanity, long-continued sickness, or protracted absence from the realm, a regency, as it is called, is created to govern the kingdom in his stead. The person appointed to act as regent is usually some near relation of the king. Richard's brother John hoped to be made regent, but this did not suit Richard's views, for he wished to make this office the means, as all the others had been, of raising money, and John had no money to give. For the same reason, he could not appoint his mother, who in other respects would have been a very suitable person. So Richard contrived a sort of middle course. He sold the nominal regency to two wealthy courtiers, whom he associated together for the purpose. One was a bishop, and the other was an earl. It may, perhaps, be too much to say that he directly sold them the office, but, at any rate, he appointed them jointly to it, and under the arrangement that was made he received a large sum of money. He, however, stipulated that John, and also his mother, should have a large share of influence in deciding upon all the measures of the government. John would have been by no means satisfied with this divided and uncertain share of power were it not that he was so desirous of favoring the expedition in every possible way, in hopes that if Richard could once get to the Holy Land he would soon perish there, and that then he should be king altogether. It was of comparatively little consequence who was regent in the mean time. So he resolved to make no objection to any plan that the king might propose.

Richard was now ready to cross to Normandy; but just before he went there came a deputation from Philip to consult with him in respect to the plans of the crusade, and to fix upon the time for setting out. The time proposed by Philip was the latter part of March. It was now late in the fall. It would not be safe to set out before March on account of the inclemency of the season, and Richard supposed that he should have ample time to complete his preparations by the time that Philip named. So both parties agreed to it, and they took a solemn oath on both sides that they would all be ready without fail.

Soon after this Richard took leave of his friends, and, accompanied by a long retinue of earls, barons, knights, and other adventurers who were to accompany him to the Holy Land, he left England, and crossed the Channel to Normandy.

In such cases as this there are always a great many last words to be said and a great many last arrangements to be made, and Richard found it necessary to see his mother and his brother John again before finally taking his departure from Europe. So he sent for them to come to Normandy, and there another great council of state was held, at which every thing in relation to the internal affairs of his dominions was finally arranged. There was still one other danger to be guarded against, and that was some treachery on the part of Philip himself. So little reliance did these valiant champions of Christianity place in each other in those days, that both Richard and Philip, in joining together to form this expedition, had many misgivings and suspicions in respect to each other's honesty. Undoubtedly neither of them would have thought it safe to leave his dominions and go on a crusade unless the other had been going too. The one left behind would have been sure to have found some pretext, during the absence of his neighbor, to invade his dominions and plunder him of some of his possessions. This was one reason why the two kings had agreed to go together; and now, as an additional safeguard, they made a formal treaty of alliance and fraternity, in which they bound themselves by the most solemn oaths to stand by each other, and to be faithful and true to each other to the last. They agreed that each would defend the life and honor of the other on all occasions; that neither would desert the other in the hour of danger; and that, in respect to the dominions that they were respectively to leave behind them, neither would form any designs against the other, but that Philip would cherish and protect the rights of Richard even as he would protect his own city of Paris, and that Richard would do the like by Philip, even as he would protect his own city of Rouen.

It is a curious circumstance that in this treaty Richard should name Rouen, and not London, as his principal capital. It confirms what is known in many other ways, that the kings of this line, reigning over both Normandy and England, considered Normandy as the chief centre of their power, and England as subordinate. It may be, however, that one reason why Rouen was named in this instance may have been because it was nearer to the dominions of the King of France, and so better known to him.

This treaty was signed in February, and the preparations were now nearly complete for setting forth on the expedition in March, at the appointed time.



CHAPTER VII.

THE EMBARKATION.

1190

The plan of embarking the troops.—The English fleet.—The French forces.—Richard's rules.—The origin of tarring and feathering.—Command of the fleet.—The fleet dispersed by a storm.—A delay in Lisbon.—The rendezvous at Vezelai.—Devastation by the armies.—Richard goes to the East in advance of his fleet.—The rendezvous at Messina.—Joanna.—Richard's visit.—King Richard's excursions.—Ostia.—A quarrel.—Why Richard quarreled with the bishop.—Naples and Vesuvius.—The crypt.—Salerno.—Richard's visit there.—The fleet.—Richard pursuing his journey along the coast of the Mediterranean.—Richard's tyrannical disposition.—Stealing the falcon.—Richard flees to a priory to escape the peasants.

The plan which Richard had formed for conveying his expedition to the Holy Land was to embark it on board a fleet of ships which he was sending round to Marseilles for this purpose, with orders to await him there. Marseilles is in the south of France, not far from the Mediterranean Sea. Richard might have embarked his troops in the English Channel; but that, as the reader will see from looking on the map of Europe, would require them to take a long sea voyage around the coasts of France and Spain, and through the Straits of Gibraltar. Richard thought it best to avoid this long circuit for his troops, and so he sent the ships round, with no more men on board than necessary to manoeuvre them, while he marched his army across France by land.

As for Philip, he had no ships of his own. England was a maritime country, and had long possessed a fleet. This fleet had been very much increased by the exertions of Henry the Second, Richard's father, who had built several new ships, some of them of very large size, expressly for the purpose of transporting troops to Palestine. Henry himself did not live to execute his plans, and so he left his ships for Richard.

France, on the other hand, was not then a maritime country. Most of the harbors on the northern coast belonged to Normandy, and even at the south the ports did not belong to the King of France. Philip, therefore, had no fleet of his own, but he had made arrangements with the republic of Genoa to furnish him with ships, and so his plan was to march over the mountains to that city and embark there, while Richard should go south to Marseilles.

Richard drew up a curious set of rules and regulations for the government of this fleet while it was making the passage. Some of the rules were the following:

1. That if any man killed another, the murderer was to be lashed to the dead body and buried alive with it, if the murder was committed in port or on the land. If the crime was committed at sea, then the two bodies, bound together as before, were to be launched overboard.

2. If any man, with a knife or with any other weapon, struck another so as to draw blood, then he was to be punished by being ducked three times over head and ears by being let down from the yard-arm of the ship into the sea.

3. For all sorts of profane and abusive language, the punishment was a fine of an ounce of silver for each offense.

4. Any man convicted of theft, or "pickerie" as it was called, was to have his head shaved and hot pitch poured over it, and upon that the feathers of some pillow or cushion were to be shaken. The offender was then to be turned ashore on the first land that the ship might reach, and there be abandoned to his fate.

The penalty named in this last article is the first instance in which any account of the punishment of tarring and feathering is mentioned, and this is supposed to be the origin of that extraordinary and very cruel mode of punishment.

The king put the fleet under the command of three grand officers of his court, and he commanded all his seamen and marines to obey them strictly in all things, as they would obey the king himself if he had been on board.

The fleet met with a great variety of adventures on its way to Marseilles. It had not proceeded far before a great tempest arose, and scattered the ships in every direction. At last, a considerable number of them succeeded in making their way, in a disabled condition, into the Tagus, in order to seek succor in Lisbon. The King of Portugal was at this time at war with the Moors, who had come over from Africa and invaded his dominions. He proposed to the Crusaders on board the ships to wait a little while, and assist him in fighting the Moors. "They are as great infidels," said he, "as any that you will find in the Holy Land." The commanders of the fleet acceded to this proposal, but the crews, when they were landed, soon made so many riots in Lisbon, and involved themselves in such frequent and bloody affrays with the people of the city, that the King of Portugal was soon eager to send them away; so, in due time, they embarked again, in order to continue their voyage.

In the mean time, while the fleet was thus going round by sea, Richard and Philip were engaged in assembling their forces and making preparation to march by land. The two armies, when finally organized, came together at a place of rendezvous called Vezelai, where there were great plains suitable for the camping-ground of a great military force. Vezelai was on the road to Lyons, and the armies, after they had met, marched in company to the latter city. The number of troops assembled was very great. The united army amounted, it is said, to one hundred thousand men. This was a very large force for those days. The great difficulty was to find provision for them from day to day during the march. Supplies of provisions for such a host can not be carried far, so that armies are obliged to live on the produce of the country that they march through, which is collected for this purpose by foragers from day to day. The allied armies, as they moved slowly on, impoverished and distressed the whole country through which they passed, by devouring every thing that the people had in store. At length, after marching together for some time, they came to the place where the roads separated, and King Philip turned off to the left in order to proceed through the passes of the Alps toward Genoa, while Richard and his hosts proceeded southward toward Marseilles.

When he reached Marseilles, Richard found that his fleet had not arrived. The delay was occasioned by the storm, and the subsequent detention of the crews at Lisbon. And yet this was very long after the time originally appointed for the sailing of the expedition. The time first appointed was the last of March; but Philip could not go at that time, on account of the death of his queen, which took place just before the appointed period. Nor was Richard himself ready. It was not until the thirtieth of August that the fleet arrived at Marseilles.

When Richard found that the fleet had not come he was greatly disappointed. He had no means of knowing when to expect it, for there were no postal or other communications across the country in those days, as now, by which tidings could be conveyed to him. He waited eight days very impatiently, and then concluded to go on himself toward the East, and leave orders for the fleet to follow him. So he hired ten large vessels and twenty galleys of the merchants of Marseilles, and in these he embarked a portion of his forces, leaving the rest to come in the great fleet when it should arrive. They were to proceed to Messina in Sicily, where Richard was to join them. With the vessels that he had hired he proceeded along the coast to Genoa, where he found Philip, the French king, who had arrived there safely before him by land.

From Marseilles to Genoa the course lies toward the northeast along the coast of France. Thence, in going toward Messina, it turns toward the southeast, and follows the coast of Italy. The route may be traced very easily on any map of modern Europe. The reason why Messina had been appointed as the great intermediate rendezvous of the fleet was two-fold. In the first place, it was a convenient port for this purpose, being a good harbor, and being favorably situated about midway of the voyage. Then, besides, Richard had a sister residing there. Her name was Joanna. She had married the king of the country. Her husband had died, it is true, and she was, at that time in some sense retired from public life. She was, indeed, in some distress, for the throne had been seized by a certain Tancred, who was her enemy, and, as she maintained, not the rightful successor of her husband. So Richard resolved, in stopping at Messina, to inquire into and redress his sister's wrongs; or, rather, he thought the occasion offered him a favorable opportunity to interfere in the affairs of Sicily, and to lord it over the government and people there in his usual arrogant and domineering manner.

After waiting a short time at Genoa, Richard set sail again in one of his small vessels, and proceeded to the southward along the coast of Italy. He touched at several places on the coast, in order to visit celebrated cities or other places of interest. He sailed up the River Arno, which you will find, on the map, flowing into the Gulf of Genoa a little to the northward of Leghorn. There are two renowned cities on this river, which are very much visited by tourists and travelers of the present day, Florence and Pisa. Pisa is near the mouth of the river. Florence is much farther inland. Richard sailed up as far as Pisa. After visiting that city, he returned again to the mouth of the river, and then proceeded on his way down the coast until he came to the Tiber, and entered that river. He landed at Ostia, a small port near the mouth of it—the port, in fact, of Rome. One reason why he landed at Ostia was that the galley in which he was making the voyage required some repairs, and this was a convenient place for making them.

Perhaps, too, it was his intention to visit Rome; but while at Ostia he became involved in a quarrel with the bishop that resided there, which led him at length to leave Ostia abruptly, and to refuse to go to Rome. The cause of the quarrel was the bishop's asking him to pay some money that he owed the Pope. In all the Catholic countries of Europe, in those days, there were certain taxes and fees that were collected for the Pope, the income from which was of great importance in making up the papal revenues. Now Richard, in his eagerness to secure all the money he could obtain in England to supply his wants for the crusade, had appropriated to his own use certain of these church funds, and the bishop now called upon him to reimburse them. This application, as might have been expected, made Richard extremely angry. He assailed the bishop with the most violent and abusive language, and charged all sorts of corruption and wickedness against the papal government itself. These charges may have been true, but the occasion of being called upon to pay a debt was not the proper time for making them. To make the faults or misconduct of others, whether real or pretended, an excuse for not rendering them their just dues, is a very base proceeding.

As soon as Richard's galley was repaired, he embarked on board of it in a rage, and sailed away. The next point at which he landed was Naples.

Richard was greatly delighted with the city of Naples, which, rising as it does from the shores of an enchanting bay, and near the base of the volcano Vesuvius, has long been celebrated for the romantic beauty of its situation. Richard remained at Naples several days. There is an account of his going, while there, to perform his devotions in the crypt of a church. The crypt is a subterranean apartment beneath the church, the floors above it, as well as the pillars and walls of the church, being supported by immense piers and arches, which give the crypt the appearance of a dungeon. The place is commonly used for tombs and places of sepulture for the dead. In the crypt where Richard worshiped at Naples, the dead bodies were arranged in niches all around the walls. They were dressed as they had been when alive, and their countenances, dry and shriveled, were exposed to view, presenting a ghastly and horrid spectacle. It was such means as these that were resorted to, in the Middle Ages, for making religious impressions on the minds of men.

After spending some days in Naples, Richard concluded that he would continue his route; but, instead of embarking at once on board his galley, he determined to go across the mountains by land to Salerno, which town lies on the sea-coast at some distance south of Naples. By looking at any map of Italy, you will observe that a great promontory puts out into the sea just below Naples, forming the Gulf of Salerno on the south side of it. The pass through the mountains which Richard followed led across the neck of this promontory. His galley, together with the other galleys that accompanied him, he sent round by water. There was a great deal to interest him at Salerno, for it was a place where many parties of crusaders, Normans among the rest, had landed before, and they had built churches and monasteries, and founded institutions of learning there, all of which Richard was much interested in visiting.

He accordingly remained in Salerno several days, until at length his fleet of galleys, which had come round from Naples by sea, arrived. Richard, however, in the mean time, had found traveling by land so agreeable, that he concluded to continue his journey in that way, leaving his fleet to sail down the coast, keeping all the time as near as possible to the shore. The king himself rode on upon the land, accompanied by a very small troop of attendants. His way led him sometimes among the mountains of the interior, and sometimes near the margin of the shore. At some points, where the road approached so near to the cliffs as to afford a good view of the sea, the fleet of galleys were to be seen in the offing prosperously pursuing their voyage.



The king went on in this way till he reached Calabria, which is the country situated in the southern portion of Italy. The roads here were very bad, and as the autumn was now coming on, many of the streams became so swollen with rains that it was difficult sometimes for him to proceed on his way. At one time, while he was thus journeying, he became involved in a difficulty with a party of peasants which was extremely discreditable to him, and exhibits his character in a very unfavorable light. It seems that he was traveling by an obscure country road, in company with only a single attendant, when he happened to pass by a village, where he was told a peasant lived who had a very fine hunting hawk or falcon. Hunting by means of these hawks was a common amusement of the knights and nobles of those days; and Richard, when he heard about this hawk, said that a plain countryman had no business with such a bird. He declared that he would go to his house and take it away from him. This act, so characteristic of the despotic arrogance which marked Richard's character, shows that the reckless ferocity for which he was so renowned was not softened or alleviated by any true and genuine nobleness or generosity. For a rich and powerful king thus to rob a poor, helpless peasant, and on such a pretext too, was as base a deed as we can well conceive a royal personage to perform.

Richard at once proceeded to carry his design into execution. He went into the peasant's house, and having, under some pretext or other, got possession of the falcon, he began to ride away with the bird on his wrist. The peasant called out to him to give him back his bird. Richard paid no attention to him, but rode on. The peasant then called for help, and other villagers joining him, they followed the king, each one having seized in the mean time such weapons as came most readily to hand. They surrounded the king in order to take the falcon away, while he attempted to beat them off with his sword. Pretty soon he broke his sword by a blow which he struck at one of the peasants, and then he was in a great measure defenseless. His only safety now was in flight. He contrived to force his way through the circle that surrounded him, and began to gallop away, followed by his attendant. At length he succeeded in reaching a priory, where he was received and protected from farther danger, having, in the mean time, given up the falcon. When the excitement had subsided he resumed his journey, and at length, without any farther adventures, reached the coast at the point nearest to Sicily. Here he passed the night in a tent, which he pitched upon the rocks on the shore, waiting for arrangements to be made on the next day for his public entrance into the harbor of Messina, which lay just opposite to him, across the narrow strait that here separates the island of Sicily from the main land.



CHAPTER VIII.

KING RICHARD AT MESSINA.

1190

The triumphal entry into Messina.—The jealousy of the Sicilians and the envy of the French.—The winter sets in upon Richard and Philip in Sicily.—Winter quarters.—Tancred.—His history.—William of Sicily.—Constance.—Oath of allegiance.—Joanna's estates in the promontory of Mont Gargano.—Tancred seizing the power.—A good pretext for war.—Richard's demand.—Tancred's response.—Reprisals.—Fortifying a monastery.—Soldiers' troubles.—The army provokes a riot in Messina.—The intense excitement.—The conference broken up.—Richard's uncontrollable passion.—The attack on Messina.—Contest between Philip and Richard.—A reconciliation.—Fortifying.—Richard brings Tancred to terms.—What Richard required of Tancred.—The final conditions of peace.—King Richard's league with ancred.—The treaty signed.—Royal trustees are not always faithful.—Extravagance of Richard's court.—Spring approaching.—Repairing the fleet.—Battering-rams.—Modern ordnance.—The methods of war in ancient times.—Catapultas.—Ballistas.—Maginalls.—The religious observances of tyrants.—Richard's penitence and penance.—Was he sincere?

Although Richard came down to the Italian shore, opposite to Messina, almost unattended and alone, and under circumstances so ignoble—fugitive as he was from a party of peasants whom he had incensed by an act of petty robbery—he yet made his entry at last into the town itself with a great display of pomp and parade. He remained on the Italian side of the strait, after he arrived on the shore, until he had sent over to Messina, and informed the officers of his fleet, which, by the way, had already arrived there, that he had come. The whole fleet immediately got ready, and came over to the Italian side to take Richard on board and escort him over. Richard entered the harbor with his fleet as if he were a conqueror returning home. The ships and galleys were all fully manned and gayly decorated, and Richard arranged such a number of musicians on the decks of them to blow trumpets and horns as the fleet sailed along the shores and entered the harbor that the air was filled with the echoes of them, and the whole country was called out by the sound. The Sicilians were quite alarmed to see so formidable a host of foreign soldiers coming among them; and even their allies, the French, were not pleased. Philip began to be jealous of Richard's superior power, and to be alarmed at his assuming and arrogant demeanor. Philip had arrived in Messina some time before this, but his fleet, which was originally an inferior one, having consisted of such vessels only as he could hire at Genoa, had been greatly injured by storms during the passage, so that he had reached Messina in a very crippled condition. And now to see Richard coming in apparently so much his superior, and with so evident a disposition to make a parade of his superiority, made him anxious and uneasy.

The same feeling manifested itself, too, among his troops, and this to such a degree as to threaten to break out into open quarrels between the soldiers of the two armies.

"It will never answer," thought Philip, "for us both to remain long at Messina; so I will set out again myself as soon as I possibly can."

Indeed, there was another very decisive reason for Philip's soon continuing his voyage, and that was the necessity of diminishing the number of soldiers now at Messina on account of the difficulty of finding sustenance for them all. Philip accordingly made all haste to refit his fleet and to sail away; but he was again unfortunate. He encountered another storm, and was obliged to put back again, and before he could be ready a second time the winter set in, and he was obliged to give up all hope of leaving Sicily until the spring.

The two kings had foreseen this difficulty, and had earnestly endeavored to avoid it by making all their arrangements in the first instance for setting out from England and France in March, which was the earliest possible season for navigating the Mediterranean safely with such vessels as they had in those days. But this plan the reader will recollect had been frustrated by the death of Philip's queen, and the delays attendant upon that event, as well as other delays arising from other causes, and it was past midsummer before the expedition was ready to take its departure. The kings had still hoped to have reached the Holy Land before winter, but now they found themselves stopped on the way, and Philip, with many misgivings in respect to the result, prepared to make the best arrangements that he could for putting his men into winter quarters.

Richard did in the end become involved in difficulties with Philip and with the French troops, but the most serious affair which occupied his attention was a very extraordinary quarrel which he instigated between himself and the king of the country. The name of this king was Tancred.

The kingdom of Sicily in those days included not merely the island of Sicily, but also nearly all the southern part of Italy—all that part, namely, which forms the foot and ankle of Italy, as seen upon the map. It has already been said that Richard's sister Joanna some years ago married the king of this country. The name of the king whom Joanna married was William, and he was now dead. Tancred was his successor, though not the regular and rightful heir. In order that the reader may understand the nature of the quarrel which broke out between Tancred and Richard, it is necessary to explain how it happened that Tancred succeeded to the throne.

If William, Joanna's husband, had had a son, he would have been the rightful successor; but William had no children, and some time before his death he gave up all expectation of ever having any, so he began to look around and consider who should be his heir.

He fixed his mind upon a lady, the Princess Constance, who was his cousin and his nearest relative. She would have been the heir had it not been that the usages of the realm did not allow a woman to reign. There was another relative of William, a young man named Tancred. For some reasons, William was very unwilling that Tancred should succeed him. He knew, however, that the people would be extremely averse to receive Constance as their sovereign instead of Tancred, on account of her being a woman; but he thought that he might obviate this objection in some degree by arranging a marriage for her with some powerful prince. This he finally succeeded in doing. The prince whom he chose was a son of the Emperor of Germany. His name was Henry. Constance was married to him, and after her marriage she left Sicily and went home with her husband. William then assembled all his barons, and made them take an oath of allegiance to Constance and Henry, as rightful sovereigns after his decease. Supposing every thing to be thus amicably arranged, he settled himself quietly in his capital, the city of Palermo, intending to live there in peace with his wife for the remainder of his days.

When he married Joanna, he had given her, for her dower, a large territory of rich estates in Italy. These estates were all together, and comprised what is called the promontory of Mont Gargano. You will see this promontory represented on any map of Italy by a small projection on the heel, or, rather, a little way above the heel of the foot, on the eastern side of the peninsula. It is nearly opposite to Naples. This territory was large, and contained, besides a number of valuable landed estates, several castles, with lakes and forests adjoining; also two monasteries, with their pastures, woods, and vineyards, and several beautiful lakes. These estates, and all the income from them, were secured to Joanna forever.

Not very long after William had completed his arrangements for the succession, he died unexpectedly, while Constance was away from the kingdom, at home with her husband. Immediately a great number of competitors started up and claimed the crown. Among them was Tancred. Tancred took the field, and, after a desperate contest with his rivals, at length carried the day. He considered Joanna, the queen dowager, as his enemy, and either confiscated her estates or allowed others to seize them. He then took her with him to Palermo, where, as Richard was led to believe, he kept her a prisoner. All these things happened a few months only before Richard arrived in Messina.

Palermo, as you will see from any map of Sicily, lies near the northwest corner of Sicily, and Messina near the northeast. In consequence of these occurrences, it happened that when Richard landed in Sicily he found his sister, the wife of the former king of the country, a widow and a prisoner, and her estates confiscated, while a person whom he considered a usurper was on the throne. A better state of things to furnish him with a pretext for aggressions on the country or the people he could not possibly have desired.

As soon as he had landed his troops, he formed a great encampment for them on the sea-shore, outside the town. The place of the encampment was bordered at one extremity by the suburbs of the town, and at the other extremity was a monastery built on a height. As soon as Richard had established himself here, he sent a delegation to Tancred at Palermo, demanding that he should release Joanna and send her to him. Tancred denied that Joanna had been imprisoned at all, and, at any rate, he immediately acceded to her brother's demand that she should be sent to him. He placed her on board one of his own royal galleys, and caused her to be conveyed in it, with a very honorable escort, to Messina, and there delivered up to Richard's care.

In respect to the dower which Richard had demanded that he should restore, Tancred commenced giving some explanations in regard to it, but Richard was too impatient to listen to them. "We will not wait," said he to his sister, "to hear any talking on the subject; we will go and take possession of the territory ourselves."

So he embarked a part of his army on board some ships and transported them across the Straits, and, landing on the Italian shore, he seized a castle and a portion of territory surrounding it. He put a strong garrison in the castle, and gave the command of it to Joanna, while he went back to Messina to strengthen the position of the remainder of his army there. He thought that the monastery which flanked his encampment on the side farthest from the town would make a good fortress if he had possession of it, and that, if well fortified, it would strengthen very much the defenses of his encampment in case Tancred should attempt to molest him. So he at once took possession of it. He turned the monks out of doors, removed all the sacred implements and emblems, and turned the buildings into a fortress. He put in a garrison of soldiers to guard it, and filled the rooms which the monks had been accustomed to use for their studies and their prayers with stores of arms and ammunition brought in from the ships, and with other apparatus of war. His object was to be ready to meet Tancred, at a moment's warning, if he should attempt to attack him.

Soon after this a very serious difficulty broke out between the soldiers of the army and the people of Messina. There is almost always difficulty between the soldiers of an army and the people of any town near which the army is encamped. The soldiers, brutal in their passions, and standing in awe of none but their own officers, are often exceedingly violent and unjust in their demeanor toward unarmed and helpless citizens, and the citizens, though they usually endure very long and very patiently, sometimes become aroused to resentment and retaliation at last. In this case, parties of Richard's soldiers went into Messina, and behaved so outrageously toward the inhabitants, and especially toward the young women, that the indignation of the husbands and fathers was excited to the highest degree. The soldiers were attacked in the streets. Several of them were killed. The rest fled, and were pursued by the crowd of citizens to the gates. Those that escaped went to the camp, breathless with excitement and burning with rage, and called upon all their fellow-soldiers to join them and revenge their wrongs. A great riot was created, and bands of furious men, hastily collected together, advanced toward the city, brandishing their arms and uttering furious cries, determined to break through the gates and kill every body that they could find. Richard heard of the danger just in time to mount his horse and ride to the gates of the city, and there to head off the soldiers and drive them back; but they were so furious that, for a time, they would not hear him, but still pressed on. He was obliged to ride in among them, and actually beat them back with his truncheon, before he could compel them to give up their design.

The next day a meeting of the chief officers in the two armies, with the chief magistrates and some of the principal citizens of Messina, was held, to consider what to do to settle this dispute, and to prevent future outbreaks of this character. But the state of excitement between the two parties was too great to be settled yet in any amicable manner. While the conference was proceeding, a great crowd of people from the town collected on a rising ground just above the place where the conference was sitting. They said they only came as spectators. Richard alleged, on the other hand, that they were preparing to attack the conference. At any rate, they were excited and angry, and assumed a very threatening attitude. Some Normans who approached them got into an altercation with them, and at length one of the Normans was killed, and the rest cried out, "To arms!" The conference broke up in confusion. Richard rushed to the camp and called out his men. He was in a state of fury. Philip did all in his power to allay the storm and to prevent a combat, and when he found that Richard would not listen to him, he declared that he had a great mind to join with the Sicilians and fight him. This, however, he did not do, but contented himself with doing all he could to calm the excitement of his angry ally. But Richard was not to be controlled. He rushed on, at the head of his troops, up the hill to the ground where the Sicilians were assembled. He attacked them furiously. They were, to some extent, armed, but they were not organized, and, of course, they could not stand against the charge of the soldiers. They fled in confusion toward the city. Richard and his troops followed them, killing as many of them as they could in the pursuit. The Sicilians crowded into the city and shut the gates. Of course, the whole town was now alarmed, and all the people that could fight were marshaled on the walls and at the gates to defend themselves.

Richard retired for a brief period till he could bring on a larger force, and then made a grand attack on the walls. Several of his officers and soldiers were killed by darts and arrows from the battlements, but at length the walls were taken by storm, the gates were opened, and Richard marched in at the head of his troops. When the people were entirely subdued, Richard hung out his flag on a high tower in token that he had taken full and formal possession of Tancred's capital.

Philip remonstrated against this very strongly, but Richard declared that, now that he had got possession of Messina, he would keep possession until Tancred came to terms with him in respect to his sister Joanna. Philip insisted that he should not do this, but threatened to break off the alliance unless Richard would give up the town. Finally the matter was compromised by Richard agreeing that he would take down the flag and withdraw from the town himself, and for the present put it under the government of certain knights that he and Philip should jointly appoint for this purpose.

After the excitement of this affair had a little subsided, Richard and Philip began to consider how unwise it was for them to quarrel with each other, engaged as they were together in an enterprise of such magnitude and of so much hazard, and one in which it was impossible for them to hope to succeed, unless they continued united, and so they became reconciled, or, at least, pretended to be so, and made new vows of eternal friendship and brotherhood.

Still, notwithstanding these protestations, Richard went on lording it over the Sicilians in the most high-handed manner. Some nobles of high rank were so indignant at these proceedings that they left the town. Richard immediately confiscated their estates and converted the proceeds to his own use. He proceeded to fortify his encampment more and more. The monastery which he had forcibly taken from the monks he turned into a complete castle. He made battlements on the walls, and surrounded the whole with a moat. He also built another castle on the hills commanding the town. He acted, in a word, in all respects as if he considered himself master of the country. He did not consult Philip at all in respect to any of these proceedings, and he paid no attention to the remonstrances that Philip from time to time addressed to him. Philip was exceedingly angry, but he did not see what he could do.

Tancred, too, began to be very much alarmed. He wished to know of Richard what it was that he demanded in respect to Joanna. Richard said he would consider and let him know. In a short time he made known his terms as follows. He said that Tancred must restore to his sister all the territories which, as he alleged, had belonged to her, and also give her "a golden chair, a golden table twelve feet long and a foot and a half broad, two golden supports for the same, four silver cups, and four silver dishes." He pretended that, by a custom of the realm, she was entitled to these things. He also demanded for himself a very large contribution toward the armament and equipment for the crusade. It seems that at one period during the lifetime of William, Joanna's husband, her father, King Henry of England, was planning a crusade, and that William, by a will which he made at that time—so at least Richard maintained—had bequeathed a large contribution toward the necessary means for fitting it out. The items were these:

1. Sixty thousand measures of wheat.

2. The same quantity of barley.

3. A fleet of a thousand armed galleys, equipped and provisioned for two years.

4. A silken tent large enough to accommodate two hundred knights sitting at a banquet.

These particulars show on how great a scale these military expeditions for conquering the Holy Land were conducted in those days, the above list being only a complimentary contribution to one of them by a friend of the leader of it.

Richard now maintained that, though his father Henry had died without going on the crusade, still he himself was going, and that he, being the son, and consequently the representative and heir of Henry, was, as such, entitled to receive the bequest; so he called upon Tancred to pay it.

After much negotiation, the dispute was settled by Richard's waiving these claims, and arranging the matter on a new and different basis. He had a nephew named Arthur. Arthur was yet very young, being only about two years old; and as Richard had no children of his own, Arthur was his presumptive heir. Tancred had a daughter, yet an infant. Now it was finally proposed that Arthur and this young daughter of Tancred should be affianced, and that Tancred should pay to Richard twenty thousand pieces of gold as her dowry! Richard was, of course, to take this money as the guardian and trustee of his nephew, and he was to engage that, if any thing should occur hereafter to prevent the marriage from taking place, he would refund the money. Tancred was also to pay Richard twenty thousand pieces of gold besides, in full settlement of all claims in behalf of Joanna. These terms were finally agreed to on both sides.

Richard also entered into a league, offensive and defensive, with Tancred, agreeing to assist him in maintaining his position as King of Sicily against all his enemies. This is a very important circumstance to be remembered, for the chief of Tancred's enemies was the Emperor Henry of Germany, the prince who had married Constance, as has been already related. Henry's father had died, and he had become Emperor of Germany himself, and he now claimed Sicily as the inheritance of Constance his wife, according to the will of King William, Joanna's husband. Tancred, he maintained, was a usurper, and, of course, now Richard, by his league, offensive and defensive, with Tancred, made himself Henry's enemy. This led him into serious difficulty with Henry at a subsequent period, as we shall by-and-by see.

The treaty between Richard and Tancred was drawn up in due form and duly executed, and it was sent for safe keeping to Rome, and there deposited with the Pope. Tancred paid Richard the money, and he immediately began to squander it in the most lavish and extravagant manner. He expended the infant princess's dower, which he held in trust for Arthur, as freely as he did the other money. Indeed, this was a very common way, in those days, for great kings to raise money. If they had a young son or heir, no matter how young he was, they would contract to give him in marriage to the little daughter of some other potentate on condition of receiving some town, or castle, or province, or large sum of money as dower. The idea was, of course, that they were to take this dower in charge for the young prince, to keep it for him until he should become old enough to be actually married, but in reality they would take possession of the property themselves, and convert it at once to their own use.

Richard himself had been affianced in this way in his infancy to Alice, the daughter of the then reigning King of France, and the sister of Philip, and his father, King Henry the Second, had received and appropriated the dowry.

Indeed, in this case, both the sums of money that Richard received from Tancred were paid to Richard in trust, or, at least, ought to have been so regarded, the one amount being for Arthur, and the other for Joanna. Richard himself, in his own name, had no claims on Tancred whatever; but as soon as the money came into his hands, he began to expend it in the most profuse and lavish manner. He adopted a very extravagant and ostentatious style of living. He made costly presents to the barons, and knights, and officers of the armies, including the French army as well as his own, and gave them most magnificent entertainments. Philip thought that he did this to secure popularity, and that the presents which he made to the French knights and nobles were designed to entice them away from their allegiance and fidelity to him, their lawful sovereign. At Christmas he gave a splendid entertainment, to which he invited every person of the rank of a knight or a gentleman in both armies, and at the close of the feast he made a donation in money to each of the guests, the sum being different in different cases, according to the rank and station of the person who received it.

The king, having thus at last settled his quarrels and established himself in something like peace in Sicily, began to turn his attention toward the preparations for the spring. Of course, his intention was, as soon as the spring should open, to set sail with his fleet and army, and proceed toward the Holy Land. He now caused all his ships to be examined with a view to ascertain what repairs they needed. Some had been injured by the storms which they had encountered on the way from Marseilles or by accidents of the sea. Others had become worm-eaten and leaky by lying in port. Richard caused them all to be put thoroughly in repair. He also caused a number of battering engines to be constructed of timber which his men hauled from the forests around the base of Mount AEtna. These engines were for assailing the walls of the towns and fortresses in the Holy Land.

In modern times walls are always attacked with mortars and cannon. The ordnance of the present day will throw shot and shells of prodigious weight two or three miles, and these tremendous missiles strike against the walls of a fortress with such force as in a short time to batter them down, no matter how strong and thick they may be. But in those days gunpowder was not in use, and the principal means of breaking down a wall was by the battering-ram, which consisted of a heavy beam of wood, hung by a rope or chain from a massive frame, and then swung against the gate or wall which it was intended to break through. In the engraving you see such a ram suspended from the frame, with men at work below, impelling it against a gateway.



Sometimes these battering-rams were very large and heavy, and the men drew them back and forth, in striking the wall with them, by means of ropes. There are accounts of some battering-rams which weighed forty or fifty tons, and required fifteen hundred men to work them.

The men, of course, were very much exposed while engaged in this operation, for the people whom they were besieging would gather on the walls above, and shoot spears, darts, and arrows at them, and throw down stones and other missiles, as you see in the engraving.



Then, besides the battering-ram, which, though very efficient against walls, was of no service against men, there were other engines made in those days which were designed to throw stones or monstrous darts. These last were, of course, designed to operate against bodies of men. They were made in various forms, and were called catapultas, ballistas, maginalls, and by other such names. The force with which they operated consisted of springs made by elastic bars of wood, twisted ropes, and other such contrivances.



Some were for throwing stones, others for monstrous darts. Of course, these engines required for their construction heavy frames of sound timber. Richard did not expect to find such timber in the Holy Land, nor did he wish to consume the time after he should arrive in making them; so he employed the winter in constructing a great number of these engines, and in packing them, in parts, on board his galleys.

Richard performed a great religious ceremony, too, while he was at Sicily this winter, as a part of the preparation which he deemed it necessary to make for the campaign. It is a remarkable fact that every great military freebooter that has organized an armed gang of men to go forth, and rob and murder his fellow-men, in any age of the world, has considered some great religious performance necessary at the outset of the work, to prepare the minds of his soldiers for it, and to give them the necessary resolution and confidence in it. It was so with Alexander. It was so with Xerxes and with Darius. It was so with Pyrrhus. It is so substantially at the present day, when, in all wars, each side makes itself the champion of heaven in the contest, and causes Te Deums to be chanted in their respective churches, now on this side and now on that, in pretended gratitude to God for their alternate victories.

Richard called a grand convention of all the prelates and monks that were with his army, and performed a solemn act of worship. A part of the performance consisted of his kneeling personally before the priests, confessing his sins and the wicked life that he had led, and making very fervent promises to sin no more, and then, after submitting to the penances which they enjoined upon him, receiving from them pardon and absolution. After the enactment of this solemnity, the soldiers felt far more safe and strong in going forth to the work which lay before them in the Holy Land than before.

Nor is it certain that in this act Richard was wholly hypocritical and insincere. The human heart is a mansion of many chambers, and a religious sentiment, in no small degree conscientious and honest, though hollow and mistaken, may have strong possession of some of them, while others are filled to overflowing with the dear and besetting sins, whatever they are, by which the general conduct of the man is controlled.



CHAPTER IX.

BERENGARIA.

1190

Richard's betrothal to Berengaria—The obstacles which prevented the marriage of Richard and Alice.—The first acquaintance of Richard and the Princess Berengaria.—The fame of Berengaria.—Her accomplishments.—Eleanora sent to King Sancho to ask his daughter in marriage.—Berengaria's acceptance.—The expedition to meet Richard.—Berengaria at Brindisi with Joanna.—The friendship between Joanna and Berengaria.—Tancred receives a letter from Philip.—Treachery.—Philip's letter to Tancred.—Richard's opinion of it.—The etiquette of dueling.—Richard charges the letter upon Philip.—Philip's reply.—Richard's declaration.—Richard and Philip compromise their quarrel.—Re-embarkation.—Preparations for the marriage.—Richard escorting Philip.—Why the wedding was postponed.—Richard puts Joanna and Berengaria in charge of Stephen.—The vow to conquer Acre.—Richard's present to Tancred.

While Richard was in the kingdom of Sicily during this memorable winter, he made a new contract of marriage. The lady was a Spanish princess named Berengaria. The circumstances of this betrothment were somewhat extraordinary.

The reader will recollect that he had been betrothed in his earliest youth to Alice, an infant princess of France. His father had thrown him in, as it were, as a sort of makeweight, in arranging some compromise with the King of France for the settlement of a quarrel, and also to obtain the dower of the young princess for his own use. This dower consisted of various castles and estates, which were immediately put into the hands of Henry, Richard's father, and which he continued to hold as long as he lived, using and enjoying the rents and revenues from them as his own property. When Richard grew old enough to claim his bride, Henry, under whose custody and charge she had been placed, would not give her up to him; and long and serious quarrels arose between the father and the son on this account, as has already been related in this volume. The most obvious reason for which Henry might be supposed unwilling to give up Alice to her affianced husband, when he became old enough to be married to her, was, that he wished to retain longer the use of the castles and estates that constituted her dowry. But, in addition to this, it was surmised by many that he had actually fallen in love with her himself, and that he was determined that Richard should not have her at all. Richard himself believed, or pretended to believe, that this was the case. He was consequently very angry, and he justified himself in the wars and rebellions that he raised against his father during the lifetime of the king by this great wrong which he alleged that his father had done him. On the other hand, many persons supposed that Richard did not really wish to marry Alice, and that he only made the fact of his father's withholding her from him a pretext for his unnatural hostility, the real ends and aims of which were objects altogether different.

However this may be, when Henry died, and there was no longer any thing in the way of his marriage, he showed no desire to consummate it. Alice's father, too, had died, and Philip, the present King of France, and Richard's ally, was her brother. Philip called upon Richard from time to time to complete the marriage, but Richard found various pretexts for postponing it, and thus the matter stood when the expedition for the Holy Land set sail from Marseilles.

The next reason why Richard did not now wish to carry his marriage with Alice into effect was that, in the mean time, while his father had been withholding Alice from him, he had seen and fallen in love with another lady, the Princess Berengaria. Richard first saw Berengaria several years before, at a time when he was with his mother in Aquitaine, during the life of his father. The first time that he saw her was at a grand tournament which was celebrated in her native city in Spain, and which Richard went to attend. The families had been well acquainted with each other before, though, until the tournament, Richard had never seen Berengaria. Richard had, however, known one of her brothers from his boyhood, and they had always been very great friends. The father of Berengaria, too, Sancho the Wise, King of Navarre, had always been a warm friend of Eleanora, Richard's mother, and in the course of the difficulties and quarrels that took place between her and her husband, as related in the early chapters of this volume, he had rendered her very valuable services. Still, Richard never saw Berengaria until she had grown up to womanhood.

He, however, felt a strong desire to see her, for she was quite celebrated for her beauty and her accomplishments. The accomplishments in which she excelled were chiefly music and poetry. Richard himself was greatly interested in these arts, especially in the songs of the Troubadours, whose performances always formed a very important part of the entertainment at the feasts and tournaments, and other great public celebrations of those days.

When Richard came to see Berengaria, he fell deeply in love with her. But he could not seek her hand in marriage on account of his engagement with Alice. To have given up Alice, and to have entered instead into an engagement with her, would have involved both him and his mother, and all the family of Berengaria too, in a fierce quarrel with the King of France, the father of Alice, and also with his own father. These were too serious consequences for him to brave while he was still only a prince, and nominally under his father's authority. So he did nothing openly, though a strong secret attachment sprang up between him and Berengaria, and all desire ever to make Alice his wife gradually disappeared.

At length, when his father died, and Richard became King of England, he felt at once that the power was now in his own hands, and that he would do as he liked in respect to his marriage. Alice's father, too, had died, and her brother Philip was now king, and he was not likely to feel so strong an interest in resenting any supposed slight to his sister as her father would have been. Richard determined, therefore, to give up Alice altogether, and ask Berengaria to be his wife. So, while he was engaged in England in making his preparations for the crusade, and when he was nearly ready to set out, he sent his mother, Eleanora, to Navarre to ask Berengaria in marriage of her father, King Sancho. He did not, however, give Philip any notice of this change in his plans, not wishing to embarrass the alliance that he and Philip were forming with any unnecessary difficulties which might interfere with the success of it, and retard the preparations for the crusade. So, while his mother had gone to Spain to secure Berengaria for him as his wife, he himself, in England and Normandy, went on with his preparations for the crusade in connection with Philip, just as if the original engagement with Alice was going regularly on.

Eleanora was very successful in her mission. Sancho, Berengaria's father, was very much pleased with so magnificent an offer as that of the hand of Richard, Duke of Normandy and King of England, for his daughter. Berengaria herself made no objection. Eleanora said that her son had not been able to come himself and claim his bride, on account of the necessity that he was under of accompanying his army to the East, but she said that he would stop at Messina, and she proposed that Berengaria should put herself under her protection, and go and join him there.

Berengaria was a lady of an ardent and romantic temperament, and nothing could please her better than such a proposal as this. She very readily acceded to it, and her father was very willing to intrust her to the charge of Eleanora. So the two ladies, with a proper train of barons, knights, and other attendants, set out together. They crossed the Pyrenees into France, and then, after traversing France, they passed over the Alps into Italy. Thence they continued their journey down the Italian coast by land, as Richard had done by water, until at last they arrived at a place called Brindisi, which is on the coast of Italy, not far from Messina. Here they halted, and sent word to Richard to inform him of their arrival.

Eleanora thought that Berengaria could not go any farther with propriety, for her engagement with Richard was not yet made public. Indeed, the betrothal of Richard with Alice still remained nominally in force, and a serious difficulty was to be apprehended with Philip so soon as the new plans which Richard had formed should be announced to him.

Eleanora said that she could not remain long in Italy, but must return to Normandy very soon, without waiting for Richard to prepare the way for receiving his bride. So she left Berengaria under the charge of Joanna, who, being her own—that is, Eleanora's—daughter, was a very proper person to be the young lady's protector. Joanna and Berengaria immediately conceived a strong attachment for each other, and they lived together in a very happy manner. Joanna was glad to have for a companion so charming a young lady, and one of so high a rank, and Berengaria, on the other hand, was much pleased to be placed under the charge of so kind a protector. Joanna, too, having long lived in Sicily, could give Berengaria a great deal of interesting intelligence about the country and the people, and could answer all the thousand questions which she asked about what she heard and saw in the new world, as it were, into which she had been ushered.

The two ladies lived, of course, in very close seclusion, but they lived so lovingly together that one of the writers of the day, in a ballad that he wrote, compared them to two birds in a cage. Speaking of Eleanora, he says, in the quaint old English of the day,

"She beleft Berengere At Richard's costage. Queen Joanne held her dear; They lived as doves in a cage."

The arrival of Berengaria at Brindisi took place in the spring of the year, when the time was drawing nigh for the fleets and armaments to sail for the East. As yet, Philip knew nothing of Richard's plans in respect to this new marriage, but the time had now arrived when Richard perceived that they could no longer be concealed. Philip entertained suspicions that something wrong was going on, though he did not know exactly what. His suspicions made him watchful and jealous, and at last they led to a curious train of circumstances, which brought matters to a crisis very suddenly.

It seems that at one time, when Richard was paying a visit to Tancred, the King of Sicily, Tancred showed him a letter which he said he had received from the French king. In this letter, Philip—if, indeed, Philip really wrote it—endeavored to excite Tancred's enmity against Richard. It was just after the treaty between Tancred and Richard had been formed, as related in the last chapter. The letter said that Richard was a treacherous man, in whom no reliance could be placed; that he had no intention of keeping the treaty that he had made, but was laying a scheme for attacking Tancred in his Sicilian dominions; and, finally, it closed with an offer on the part of the writer to assist Tancred in driving Richard and all his followers out of the island.

When Richard read this letter, he was at first in a dreadful rage, and he broke out into an explosion of the most violent, profane, and passionate language that can be conceived. Presently he looked at the letter again, and on reperusing it, and carefully considering its contents, he declared that he did not believe that Philip ever wrote it. It was a stratagem of Tancred's, he thought, designed to promote a quarrel between Richard and his ally. Tancred assured him that Philip did write the letter, or, at least, that it was brought to him as from Philip by the Duke of Burgundy, one of his principal officers.

"You may ask the Duke of Burgundy," said he, "and if he denies it, I will challenge him to a duel through one of my barons."

It was necessary that the parties to a duel, in those days, should be of equal rank, so that, if a king had a quarrel with a nobleman of another nation, he could only send one of his own noblemen of the same rank to be his representative in the combat. But this proposal of sending another man to risk his life in maintaining the cause of his king on a question of veracity, in which the person so sent had no interest whatever, illustrates very curiously the ideas of those chivalrous times.

Richard did not go to the Duke of Burgundy, but, taking the letter which Tancred had shown him, he waited until he found a good opportunity, and then showed it to Philip. The two kings often fell into altercations and disputes in their interviews with each other, and it was in one of these that Richard produced the letter, offering it by way of recrimination to some charges or accusations which Philip was making against him. Philip denied having written the letter. It was a forgery, he said, and he believed that Richard himself was the author of it.

"You are trying every way you can," said he, "to find pretexts for quarreling with me, and this is one of your devices. I know what you are aiming at: you wish to quarrel with me so as to find some excuse for breaking off your marriage with my sister, whom you are bound by a most solemn oath to marry. But of this you may be sure, that if you abandon her and take any other wife, you will find me, as long as you live, your most determined and mortal enemy."

This declaration aroused Richard's temper, and brought the affair at once to a crisis. Richard declared to Philip that he never would marry his sister.

"My father," said he, "kept her from me for many years because he loved her himself, and she returned his love, and now I will never have any thing to do with her. I am ready to prove to you the truth of what I say."

So Richard brought forward what he called the proofs of the very intimate relations which had subsisted between Alice and his father. Whether there was any thing genuine or conclusive in these proofs is not known. At all events, they made a very deep and painful impression on Philip. The disclosure was, as one of the writers of those times says, "like a nail driven directly through his heart."

After a while, the two kings concluded to settle the difficulty by a sort of compromise. Philip agreed to give up all claims on the part of Alice to Richard in consideration of a sum of money which Richard was to pay. Richard was to pay two thousand marks[D] a year for five years, and was on that condition to be allowed to marry any one he chose. He was also to restore to Philip the fortresses and estates which had been conveyed to his father as Alice's dowry at the time of her betrothment to Richard in her infancy.

[Footnote D: The mark is about three dollars.]

This agreement, being thus made, was confirmed by a great profusion of oaths, sworn with all solemnity, and the affair was considered as settled.

Still, Richard seems to have been a little disinclined to bring out Berengaria at once from her retreat, and let Philip know suddenly how far his arrangements for marrying another lady had gone; so he concluded to wait, before publicly announcing his intended marriage, until Philip should have sailed for the East. Philip was now, indeed, nearly ready to go; his fleet and his armament, being smaller than Richard's, could be dispatched earlier; so Richard devoted himself very earnestly to the work of facilitating and hastening his ally's departure, determining that immediately afterward he would bring forward his bride and celebrate his marriage.

It is not, however, certain that he kept his intended marriage with Berengaria an absolute secret from Philip. There would be no longer any special necessity for this after the treaty that had been made. But, notwithstanding this agreement, it is not to be supposed that the new marriage would be a very agreeable subject for Philip to contemplate, or that it would be otherwise than very awkward for him to be present on the occasion of the celebration of it; so Richard decided that, on all accounts, it was best to postpone the ceremony until after Philip had gone.

Philip sailed the very last of March. Richard selected from his fleet a few of his most splendid galleys, and with these, filled with a chosen company of knights and barons, he accompanied Philip as he left the harbor, and sailed with him down the Straits of Messina, with trumpets sounding, and flags and banners waving in the air. As soon as Philip's fleet reached the open sea, Richard took leave, and set out with his galleys on his return; but, instead of going back to Messina, he made the best of his way to the port in Italy where Berengaria and Joanna were lodging, and there took the ladies, who were all ready, expecting him, and embarking them on board a very elegantly adorned galley which he had prepared for them, he conducted them to Messina.

Richard would now probably have been immediately married, but it was in the season of Lent, and, according to the ideas of those times, it would be in some sense a desecration of that holy season of fasting to celebrate any such joyous ceremony as a wedding in it; and it would not do very well to postpone the sailing of the fleet until after the season of Lent should have expired, for the time had already fully arrived when it ought to sail, and Philip, with his division of the allied force, had already gone; so he concluded to put off his marriage till they should reach the next place at which the expedition should land.

Berengaria consented to this, and it was arranged that she was to accompany the expedition when it should sail, and that at the next place of landing, which it was expected would be the island of Rhodes, the marriage ceremony should be performed.

As it was not considered quite proper, however, under these circumstances, that the princess should sail in the same ship with Richard, a very strong and excellent ship was provided for her special use, and that of Joanna who was to accompany her, and it was arranged that she should sail from the port just before the main body of the fleet were ready to commence the voyage. The ship in which the ladies and their suite were conveyed was placed under the command of a brave and faithful knight named Stephen of Turnham, and the two princesses were committed to his special charge.

But, although Richard's regard for the sacred season of Lent would not allow of his celebrating the marriage, he made a grand celebration in honor of his betrothment to Berengaria before he sailed. At this celebration he instituted an order of twenty-four knights. These knights bound themselves in a fraternity with the king, and took a solemn oath that they would scale the walls of Acre when they reached the Holy Land. Acre was one of the strongest and most important fortresses in that country, and one which they were intending first to attack.

Also, before he went away, Richard made King Tancred a farewell present of a very valuable antique sword, which had been found, he said, by his father in the tomb of a famous old English knight who had lived some centuries before.



CHAPTER X.

THE CAMPAIGN IN CYPRUS.

1190

The expedition is at last ready to sail from Sicily.—The grand spectacle of the embarkation at Messina.—The order of sailing.—Trenc-le-mer.—The storm.—Navigation in the twelfth century.—Limesol in Cyprus.—The wrecked ships.—King Richard's seal.—The wreckers.—Isaac Comnenus.—Law and justice.—Law is not the creator, but the protector of property.—Joanna's inquiries for her brother.—An alarm.—A retreat.—Richard's vessel appears.—Richard's indignation on meeting Joanna's vessel.—Richard's contest with King Isaac Comnenus.—The history of the law of wrecks.—Richard having landed, Isaac asks a truce.—Negotiating.—Richard was a Norman, not an Englishman.—Preparing for war.—King Richard's battle-axe.—The conquest of Limesol.—Signaling for the queen's galley.—The terms of peace which Richard offered to Isaac.—How Richard faithlessly took King Isaac a prisoner.—King Richard subjugates Cyprus.—The miserable death of King Isaac.—Richard's wedding at last.—A coronation.—The king's accoutrement.—Favelle.—The appearance of Berengaria.—

The time at length fully arrived for the departure of the English fleet from Sicily for the purpose of continuing the voyage to the Holy Land. Besides the delay which had been occasioned to Richard by circumstances connected with his marriage, he had waited also a short time for some store-ships to arrive from England with ammunition and supplies. When the store-ships at length came, the day for the sailing was immediately appointed, the tents were struck, the encampment abandoned, and the troops embarked on board the ships of the fleet.

The Sicilians were all greatly excited, as the sailing of the fleet drew nigh, with anticipations of the splendor of the spectacle. The harbor was filled with ships of every form and size, and the movements connected with the embarkation of the troops on board of them, the striking of the tents, the packing up of furniture and goods, the hurrying of men to and fro, the crowding at the landings, the rapid transit of boats back and forth between the ships and the shore, and all the other scenes and incidents usually attendant on the embarkation of a great army, occupied the attention of the people of the country, and filled them with excitement and pleasure. It is highly probable, too, that their pleasure was increased by the prospect that they were soon to be relieved from the presence of such troublesome and unmanageable visitors.

Never was a finer spectacle witnessed than that which was displayed by the sailing of the fleet, when the day for the departure of it at length arrived. The squadron consisted of nearly two hundred vessels in all. There were thirteen great ships, corresponding to what are called ships of the line of modern times. Then there were over fifty galleys. These were constructed so as to be propelled either by oars or by sails. Of course, when the wind was favorable, the sails would be used; but in case of calms, or of adverse winds blowing off from the land when the vessels were entering port, or of currents drifting them into danger, then the oars could be brought into requisition. In addition to these ships and galleys, there were about a hundred vessels used as transports for the conveyance of provisions, stores, tents, and tent equipage, ammunition of all kinds, including the frames of the military engines which Richard had caused to be constructed in Sicily, and all the other supplies required for the use of a great army. Besides these there were a great many other smaller vessels, which were used as tenders, lighters, and for other such purposes, making a total number of nearly two hundred. In the order of sailing, the transports followed the ships and galleys, which were more properly the ships of war, and which led the van, in order the better to meet any danger which might appear, and the more effectually to protect the convoy from it.

Richard sailed at the head of his fleet in a splendid galley, which was appropriated to his special use. The name of it was the Sea Cutter.[E] There was a huge lantern hoisted in the stern of Richard's galley, in order that the rest of the fleet could see and follow her in the night.

[Footnote E: Trenc-le-mer, literally, Cut the sea.]



The day of sailing was very fine, and the spectacle, witnessed by the Sicilians on shore, who watched the progress of it from every projecting point and headland as it moved majestically out of the harbor, was extremely grand. For some time the voyage went on very prosperously, but at length the sky gradually became overcast, and the wind began to blow, and finally a great storm came on before the ships had time to seek any shelter. In those days there was no mariner's compass, and of course, in a storm, when the sun and stars were concealed, there was nothing to be done but for the ship to grope her way through the haze and rain for any land which might be near. The violence of the wind and the raging of the sea was in this case so great that the fleet was soon dispersed, and the vessels were driven northward and eastward toward certain islands which lie in that part of the Mediterranean, off the coasts of Asia Minor. The three principal of these islands, as you will see by the opposite map, are Candia, Rhodes, and Cyprus, Cyprus lying farther toward the east.

The ships came very near being wrecked on the coast of Crete, but they escaped and were driven onward over the sea, until at length a large portion of them found refuge at Rhodes. Others were driven on toward Cyprus. Richard's galley was among those that found refuge at Rhodes; but, unfortunately, the one in which Berengaria and Joanna were borne did not succeed in making a port there, but was swept onward by the gale, and, in company with one or two others, was driven to the mouth of the harbor of Limesol, which is the principal port of Cyprus, and is situated on the south side of the island. The galley in which the queen and the princess were embarked, being probably of superior construction to the others, and better manned, succeeded in weathering the point and getting round into the harbor, but two or three other galleys which were with them struck and were wrecked. One of these ships was a very important one. It contained the chancellor who bore Richard's great seal, besides a number of other knights and crusaders of high rank, and many valuable goods. The seal was an object of great value. Every king had his own seal, which was used to authenticate his public acts. The one which belonged to Richard is represented in the following engraving.

As soon as the news of these wrecks spread into the island, the people came down in great numbers, and took possession of every thing of value which was cast upon the shore as property forfeited to the king of the country. The name of this king was Isaac Comnenus.

He claimed that all wrecks cast upon his shores were his property. That was the law of the land; it was, in fact, the law of a great many countries in those days, especially of such as had maritime coasts bordering on navigable waters that were specially exposed to storms.



Thus, in seizing the wreck of Richard's vessels, King Isaac had the law on his side, and all those who, in their theory of government, hold it as a principle that law is the foundation of property, and that what the law makes right is right, must admit that he had justice on his side too. For my part, it seems clear that the right of property is anterior to all law, and independent of it. I think that the province of law is not to create property, but to protect it, and that it may, instead of protecting it, become the greatest violator of it. This law providing for the confiscation of property cast in wrecks upon a shore, and its forfeiture to the sovereign of the territory, is one of the most striking instances of aggression made by law on the natural and indefeasible rights of man.

In regard to the galley which contained the queens, that having escaped shipwreck, and having safely anchored in the harbor, the king had no pretext for molesting it in any way. He learned by some means that Queen Joanna was on board the galley; so he sent two boats down with a messenger, to inquire whether her majesty would be pleased to land.

Stephen of Turnham, the knight who had command of the queen's galley, thought it not safe to go on shore, for by doing so Joanna and Berengaria would put themselves entirely in King Isaac's power; and though it was true that Isaac and the people of Cyprus over whom he ruled were Christians, yet they were of the Greek Church, while Richard and the English were Roman, and these two churches were almost as hostile to each other as the Christians and the Turks. Stephen, however, communicated the message from Isaac to Joanna, and asked her majesty's pleasure thereupon. She sent back word to the messengers that she did not wish to land. She had only come into the harbor, she said, to see if she could learn any tidings of her brother; she had been separated from him by a great storm at sea, which had broken up and dispersed the fleet, and she wished to know whether any thing had been seen of him, or of any of his vessels, from the shores of that island.

The messengers replied that they did not know any thing about it, and so the boats returned back to the town. Soon after this the company on board the galley saw some armed vessels coming down the harbor toward them. They were alarmed at this sight, and immediately got every thing ready for setting off at a moment's notice to withdraw from the harbor. It turned out that the king himself was on board one of the galleys that was coming down, and this vessel was allowed to come near enough for the king to communicate with the people on board Joanna's galley. After some ordinary questions had been asked and answered, the king, observing that a lady of high rank was standing on the deck with Joanna, asked who it was. They answered that it was the Princess of Navarre, who was going to be married to Richard. In the reply which the king made to this intelligence Stephen of Turnham thought he saw such indications of hostility that he deemed it most prudent to retire; so the anchor was raised, and the order was given to the oarsmen, who had already been stationed at their oars, to "give way," and the oarsmen pulled vigorously at the oars. The galley was immediately taken out into the offing. The King of Cyprus did not pursue her; so she anchored there quietly, the storm having now nearly subsided. Stephen resolved to wait there for a time, hoping that in some way or other he might soon receive intelligence from Richard.

Nor was he disappointed. Richard, whose galley, together with the principal portion of the fleet, had been driven farther to the eastward, had found refuge at Rhodes, and he set off, as soon as the storm abated, in pursuit of the missing vessels. He took with him a sufficient force to render to the vessels, if he should find them, such assistance or protection as might be necessary. At length he reached Cyprus, and, on entering the bay, there he beheld the galley of Joanna and Berengaria riding safely at anchor in the offing. The sea had not yet gone down, and the vessel was rolling and tossing on the waves in a fearful manner. Richard was greatly enraged at beholding this spectacle, for he at once inferred, by seeing the vessel in this uncomfortable situation outside the harbor, that some difficulty with the authorities had occurred which prevented her seeking refuge and protection within. Accordingly, as soon as he came near, he leaped into a boat, although burdened as he was with heavy armor of steel, which was a difficult and somewhat dangerous operation, and ordered himself to be rowed immediately on board.

When he arrived, after the first greetings were over, he was informed by Stephen that three of the vessels of his fleet had been wrecked on the coast; that Isaac, the king, had seized them as his lawful prize; and that, at that very time, men that he had sent for this purpose were plundering the wrecks. Stephen also said that he had at first gone into the harbor with his galley, but that the indications of an unfriendly feeling on the part of the king were so decided that he did not dare to stay, and he had been compelled to come out into the offing.

On hearing these things Richard was greatly enraged. He sent a messenger on shore to the king to demand peremptorily that he should at once leave off plundering the wrecks of the English ships, and that he should deliver up to Richard again all the goods that had already been taken. To this demand Isaac replied that whatever goods the sea cast upon the shores of his island were his property, according to the law of the land, and that he should take them without asking leave of any body.

When Richard heard this answer, he was rather pleased than displeased with it, for it gave him, what he always wanted wherever he went, a pretext for quarreling. He said that the goods which Isaac obtained in that way he would find would cost him pretty dear, and he immediately prepared for war.

In this transaction there is no question that the King of Cyprus, though wholly wrong, and guilty of a real and inexcusable violation of the rights of property, had yet the law on his side. It was one of those cases, of which innumerable examples have existed in all ages of the world, where an act which is virtually the robbing of one man by another is authorized by law, and is protected by legal sanctions. This rule—confiscating property wrecked—was the general law of Europe at this time, and Richard, of all men, might have considered himself estopped from objecting to it by the fact that it was the law in England as well as every where else. By the ancient common law of England, all wrecks of every kind became the property of the king. The severity of the rule had been slightly mitigated a few reigns before Richard's day by a statute which declared that if any living thing escaped from the wreck, even were it so much as a dog or a cat, that circumstance saved the property from confiscation, and preserved the claim of the owner to it. With this modification, the law stood in England until a very late period, that all goods thrown from wrecks upon the shores became the property of the crown, and it was not until comparatively quite a recent period that an English judge decided that such a principle, being contrary to justice and common sense, was not law; and now wrecked property is restored to whomsoever can prove himself to be the owner, on his paying for the expense and trouble of saving it.

On receiving the demand which Richard sent him, the King of Cyprus, anticipating difficulty, drew up his galleys in order of battle across the harbor, and marched troops down to commanding positions on the shore, wherever he thought there might be any danger that Richard would attempt to land. Richard very soon brought up his forces and advanced to attack him. Isaac's troops retreated as Richard advanced. Finally they were driven back without much actual contest into the town, and Richard then brought his squadron up into harbor and landed. Isaac, seeing how much stronger Richard was than he, did not attempt any serious resistance, but retired to the citadel. From the citadel he sent out a flag of truce demanding a parley.

Richard granted the request, and an interview took place, but it led to no result. Richard found that Isaac was not yet absolutely subdued. He still asserted his rights, and complained of the gross wrong which Richard was perpetrating in invading his dominions, and seeking a quarrel with him without cause; but the effect was like that of the lamb attempting to resist or recriminate the wolf, which, far from bringing the aggressor to reason, only awakens more strongly his ferocity and rage. Richard turned toward his attendants, and, uttering a profane exclamation, said that Isaac talked like a fool of a Briton.

It is mentioned as a remarkable circumstance by the historians that Richard spoke these words in English, and it is said that this was the only time in the course of his life that he ever used that language. It may seem very strange to the reader that an English king should not ordinarily use the English language. But, strictly speaking, Richard was not an English king. He was a Norman king. The whole dynasty to which he belonged were Norman French in all their relations. Normandy they regarded as the chief seat of their empire. There were their principal cities—there their most splendid palaces. There they lived and reigned, with occasional excursions for comparatively brief periods across the Channel. They considered England much as the present English sovereigns do Ireland, namely, as a conquered country, which had become a possession and a dependency upon the crown, but not in any sense the seat of empire, and they utterly despised the native inhabitants. In view of these facts, the wonder that Richard, the King of England, never spoke the English tongue at once disappears.

The conference broke up, and both sides prepared for war. Isaac, finding that he was not strong enough to resist such a horde of invaders as Richard brought with him, withdrew from his capital and retired to a fortress among the mountains. Richard then easily took possession of the town. A moderate force had been left to protect it; but Richard, promising his troops plenty of booty when they should get into it, led the way, waving his battle-axe in the air.

This battle-axe was a very famous weapon. It was one which Richard had caused to be made for himself before leaving England, and it was the wonder of the army on account of its size and weight. The object of a battle-axe was to break through the steel armor with which the knights and warriors of those days were accustomed to cover themselves, and which was proof against all ordinary blows. Now Richard was a man of prodigious personal strength, and, when fitting out his expedition in England, he caused an unusually large and heavy battle-axe to be made for himself, by way of showing his men what he could do in swinging a heavy weapon. The head of this axe, or hammer, as perhaps it might more properly have been called, weighed twenty pounds, and most marvelous stories were told of the prodigious force of the blow that Richard could strike with it. When it came down on the head of a steel-clad knight on his horse, it broke through every thing, they said, and crushed man and horse both to the ground.