THE history of Richard Coeur de Lion is a history of the third crusade, and the most memorable one of all. Upon the side of the Mussulmans was Saladin, sultan of Egypt and Syria. Saladin, whose name means “splendor of religion,” was a noble and generous man, and though a Mohammedan, he often evinced a far more humane and commendable spirit than many of his foes, who called themselves Christians. Upon the side of the Mohammedans, as well as that of the Christians, this conflict was regarded as a holy war; for the Christians were fighting to obtain Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulchre, where the body of Jesus Christ was supposed to have lain, while the Mohammedans were just as zealously fighting to retain Jerusalem; and Saladin’s answer to the Christians, when they demanded the surrender of that city was, “Jerusalem never was yours, and we may not without sin give it up to you; for it is the place where the mysteries of our religion were accomplished; and the last one of my soldiers will perish before the Mussulmans renounce conquests made in the name of Mohammed.”

Before the time of Richard the Lion-Hearted, Jerusalem had been conquered by the Christians, and they had set up in it a king. This was in 1099, when the crusaders elected Godfrey de Bouillon as king of Jerusalem. But he reigned but one year and died. In the space of one hundred and seventy-one years, from the coronation of Godfrey de Bouillon as king of Jerusalem in 1099, to the last crusade under Louis IX. of France, in 1270, there were seven crusades which were undertaken by the kings of France and England, the emperors of Germany, the king of Denmark, and various princes of Italy. They all failed in the end of accomplishing the permanent possession of the city of Jerusalem by the Christians; but these various crusades called forth a number of devout and self-sacrificing monks and bishops, and gave occasion for brave and valiant deeds by many knights and kings, and none were so brave, and none became so famous in the annals of these holy wars as Richard I., king of England, called by the Christians Coeur de Lion, the Lion-hearted, on account of his valor, and for the same reason feared among the Mohammedans, and called by them Malek-Rik; and so great a terror did this name become, that when St. Louis, more than fifty years after, led the French to another crusade, they heard the Saracen mothers scolding their children, and threatening them with punishment by the dreadful Malek-Rik, who had never been forgotten. The first of the crusades had been inspired by a zealous monk, called Peter the Hermit. From the earliest days of Christianity, many pious persons had made pilgrimages to Palestine, to visit the graves of saints and other places. After a time, these pilgrimages had been extended to Jerusalem; and that city at length, having fallen into the hands of the Turks, the Christian people were treated with cruelty, and many of the clergy were imprisoned and even killed. Peter the Hermit had been to Jerusalem, and having himself been an eye-witness of the cruelties of the Turks towards the Christians, he obtained permission of the Pope to go to the principal courts in Europe, and exhort all Christian warriors to take up arms against the infidels in the Holy Land. Peter the Hermit walked from court to court, barefoot and clothed in rags. He was listened to as a prophet, and succeeded in inspiring many knights and crowds of people to enlist in what they considered a sacred cause. The symbol of this enlistment was a cross of red stuff sewed to the shoulder of the cloak; hence the name crusade. France was at this time roused to great excitement. The barons sold and pledged their lands to obtain the means of joining the expedition. The Pope promised a full remission of sins to all who assumed the cross; and as the mass of the people were so ignorant in those days that the word of the Pope was held to be as sacred as a voice from heaven, and his blessing or excommunication was regarded by them as powerful enough to raise them to Paradise, or call down upon them everlasting destruction, thousands of wicked persons, whose sins were so many that it would have required years of penance to have gained the much-coveted absolvance from the Pope, eagerly seized upon this method of winning earthly glory, and, as they supposed, heavenly honor. It is said that a crowd of more than a million of persons, including beggars, women and children, soon pledged themselves to this crusade. Three hundred thousand of such a motley company started, with Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless marching at their head. Nearly the entire number fell victims to the fury of their assailants in the countries through which they passed. This company of helpless beggars, women and children, were followed by three hundred thousand fighting men, who had been preparing in the different kingdoms, mostly in France. Of this large host, only a small remnant under Godfrey de Bouillon, arrived at Jerusalem, and captured that city in 1099, and planted the standard of the cross on its walls.

St. Bernard, abbot of Clairvaux, roused the people again for the second crusade, for it was discovered that the Turks had massacred the Christians in Palestine, and that Jerusalem was in danger. King Louis VII. of France, and the emperor Conrad III. of Germany, espoused the cause. Although Louis and Conrad entered the city of Jerusalem and determined upon the siege of Damascus, nothing permanent was accomplished. The siege of Damascus was abandoned, and the crusade-sovereigns returned to their respective kingdoms.

During the forty years’ interval between the end of the second and the beginning of the third crusades, the relative positions of the West and East, Christian Europe and Mussulman Asia, remained much the same. But in 1187, news again reached Europe of repeated disasters to the Christians in Asia. Egypt had become the goal of ambition, and Saladin, the most illustrious as well as the most powerful of Mussulman sovereigns, being sultan of Egypt and Syria, had fought against a Christian army near Tiberias. The oriental chronicles thus describe the conflict: “The Christian army was surrounded by the Saracens, and also, ere long, by the fire, which Saladin had ordered to be set to the dry grass which covered the plain. The flames made their way and spread beneath the feet of men and horses. There the sons of Paradise and the children of fire settled their terrible quarrel. Arrows hurtled in the air like a noisy flight of sparrows, and the blood of warriors dripped upon the ground like rain-water. Hill, plain, and valley were covered with their dead; their banners were stained with dust and blood, their heads were laid low, their limbs scattered, their carcasses piled on a heap like stones.” Four days after the battle of Tiberias in July, 1187, Saladin took possession of St. Jean d’Acre, and in the following September, of Ascalon. In the same month he laid siege to Jerusalem. The Holy City contained at that time, it is said, nearly one hundred thousand Christians, who had fled for safety from all parts of Palestine. Saladin’s taking of Jerusalem is thus described by Guizot. “On approaching its walls, Saladin sent for the principal inhabitants, and said to them, ‘I know as well as you that Jerusalem is the house of God, and I will not have it assaulted if I can get it by peace and love. I will give you thirty thousand byzants of gold if you promise me Jerusalem, and you shall have liberty to go whither you will and do your tillage, to a distance of five miles from the city. And I will have you supplied with such plenty of provisions that in no place on earth shall they be so cheap. You shall have a truce from now to Whitsuntide, and when this time comes, if you see that you may have aid, then hold on. But if not, you shall give up the city, and I will have you conveyed in safety to Christian territory, yourselves and your substance.’ ‘We may not yield up to you a city where died our God,’ answered the envoys, ‘and still less may we sell you.’ The siege lasted fourteen days. After having repulsed several assaults, the inhabitants saw that effectual resistance was impossible, and the commandant of the place, a knight, named Balian d’Ibelin, an old warrior who had been at the battle of Tiberias, returned to Saladin, and asked for the conditions back again which had been at first rejected. Saladin, pointing to his own banner already planted upon several parts of the battlements, answered, ‘It is too late, you surely see that the city is mine.’ ‘Very well, my lord,’ replied the knight, ‘we will ourselves destroy our city, and the mosque of Omar, and the stone of Jacob, and when it is nothing but a heap of ruins, we will sally forth with sword and fire in hand, and not one of us will go to Paradise without having sent ten Mussulmans to hell.’ Saladin understood enthusiasm and respected it, and to have had the destruction of Jerusalem connected with his name would have caused him deep displeasure. He therefore consented to the terms of capitulation demanded of him. The fighting men were permitted to retreat to Tyre or Tripolis, which cities were in the power of the Christians, and the simple inhabitants of Jerusalem had their lives preserved, and permission given them to purchase their freedom on certain conditions; but, as many amongst them could not find the means, Malek-Adhel, the sultan’s brother, and Saladin himself, paid the ransom of several thousands of captives. All Christians, however, with the exception of Greeks and Syrians, had orders to leave Jerusalem within four days. When the day came, all the gates were closed except that of David, by which the people were to go forth, and Saladin, seated upon a throne, saw the Christians defile before him. First came the patriarch, followed by the clergy carrying the sacred vessels and the ornaments of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. After him came Sibylla, queen of Jerusalem, who had remained in the city, whilst her husband, Guy de Lusignan, had been a prisoner at Nablous since the battle of Tiberias. Saladin saluted her respectfully, and spoke to her kindly. He had too great a soul to take pleasure in the humiliation of greatness.” The capture of Jerusalem again roused Europe to arms, but the story of this third crusade will be more fully narrated, as we proceed with the personal history of Richard the Lion-hearted, who became the chief and most illustrious figure in the annals of this third holy war.

Eleanor, the mother of Richard Coeur de Lion, had herself participated in the second crusade. Eleanor’s grandfather was duke of Aquitaine, a rich kingdom in the south of France. His son, the father of Eleanor, had been killed in the first crusade, and the duke of Aquitaine determined to resign his kingdom in favor of his grand-daughter, and marry her to Prince Louis VII., then heir to the throne of France. This was accomplished, and King Louis VI. of France, dying soon after the marriage, Eleanor became queen of France, as well as duchess of Aquitaine. This princess had been well educated for those times, and was even celebrated for her learning, as she possessed the rare accomplishments of being able to read and write, as well as to sing the songs of the Troubadours, which was the fashionable music of the courts. King Louis VII., her husband, was a very pious man, much more fond of devotion than of pleasure, so he determined to go on a crusade, and Queen Eleanor, from a gay love of adventure, resolved to accompany him. Eleanor and her court ladies laid aside their feminine attire, and clothed themselves as Amazons, taking good care, however, to provide a most cumbersome amount of baggage, containing their usual rich costumes and delicate luxuries, which proved so great a burden in transportation that the king remonstrated against such a needless and troublesome excess of useless finery. But the ladies carried their point, and the crusading expedition, which should have been composed of an army of valiant warriors, became an immense train of women and baggage, requiring the constant care of the princes, barons, and knights, many of them reluctant participants, who had been shamed by the taunts of these ladies into joining an expedition which had been organized upon so wild and heedless a plan as to insure only disaster and failure. But the gay ladies exclaimed to any man who dared to express any thoughts of remaining at home, “We will send you our distaffs as presents. We have no longer any use for them, but as you are intending to stay at home and make women of yourselves, we will send them to you, so that you may occupy yourselves with spinning while we are gone.”

Notwithstanding this apparent zeal which Eleanor and her court ladies displayed, their caprices and freaks continued to harass and interfere with the expedition, during the entire crusade, and Queen Eleanor so displeased King Louis by her gay and frivolous conduct, that a long and serious quarrel arose between them, and he declared that he would obtain a divorce from her. But his ministers tried to prevent this, as Eleanor possessed the rich kingdom of Aquitaine in her own right, which would be lost to Louis by a separation. So they returned from the Holy Land to Paris, still as king and queen of France. But in about two years after, Eleanor determined to be divorced from King Louis of France, so that she might marry Prince Henry Plantagenet, who afterwards became Henry II., of England. Prince Henry’s father had received the name Plantagenet from a habit he had of wearing a spray of broom blossom in his cap. The French name for this plant is genet, and so he was nicknamed Plantagenet, and his son Henry II. was the first king in that family, also called the House of Anjou. Although Henry II. was king of England, by his marriage with Eleanor, which took place only a short time after she obtained a divorce from King Louis of France, Henry gained the great dukedom of Aquitaine, and as he already possessed Normandy and Anjou, he really was lord of nearly half of France. He ruled England well, but he cared more for power than what was right, and he often indulged in such exhibitions of fierce rage, that he would roll on the floor and bite the rushes with which it was strewn. At the time of his marriage with Eleanor, Henry was duke of Normandy, and was only twenty years of age, while Eleanor was thirty-two; but she was very much in love with him, and as she could bring him such a rich kingdom, and furnish him men and money to help him secure the crown of England, which was at that time held by King Stephen, whom Henry declared was a usurper, he was willing to accept Eleanor as his wife, although she was nearly twice his own age, and was also the divorced wife of King Louis. Some historians place the blame of the divorce upon Eleanor, some upon Louis; but all unite in condemning her previous conduct, for she occasioned many scandalous remarks by her undignified, unwifely, and even culpable actions. After she became queen of England, however, she changed in this respect, and her after quarrels with Henry were occasioned by her ambitions and his conduct regarding a lady called the Fair Rosamond, who afterwards became a nun in a convent near Oxford. Some historians think that Henry was in reality married to Rosamond before he was persuaded to espouse Eleanor, in order to gain her rich possessions. Though Eleanor had equally wronged her former husband, Louis, she made no excuse for King Henry’s devotion to Rosamond, and when she discovered Henry’s affection for her, she ordered that she should be shut up in a convent out of the way. To this King Henry consented, but the jealousy of the queen against her rival was never abated, and added great bitterness to the other causes of discord between herself and King Henry, which at last broke out in the open rebellion of Queen Eleanor and her sons against the king, so that Henry would often be obliged to raise armies to put down the various disturbances caused by first one son, then another, then all together, encouraged by their mother Eleanor, who however seemed to have inspired more love and devotion in the hearts of her sons than their father. Almost all the early years of the life of Richard were spent in wars which were waged by different members of his father’s family against each other. These wars originated in the quarrels between King Henry and his sons, in respect to the family property. As Henry II. held a great many possessions which he had inherited through his father, grandfather, and his wife Eleanor, he was duke of one country, earl of a second, king of a third, and count of a fourth. Henry had five sons, of whom Richard was the third, and he was born about three years after Eleanor was crowned queen of England, when, upon the death of King Stephen, Henry became king of that country. Henry II. was a generous father, and as his sons became old enough, he gave them provinces of their own. But they were not contented with the portions allotted to them, and demanded more. Sometimes Henry would yield, at other times resist, when the sons would raise armies and rebel against their father, and then would follow the shocking spectacle of husband, wife, and sons, all fighting against each other. These wars continued for many years, the mother usually taking sides with her sons, until King Henry shut her up in a castle, in a sort of imprisonment, where he kept her confined for sixteen years.

It was during the reign of Henry II. that the famous archbishop, Thomas À Becket, was murdered, under the following circumstances: Thomas À Becket had been one of Henry’s most devoted friends and intimate counsellors, and Henry had raised him to the office of Chancellor. Afterwards Henry made Thomas À Becket bishop of Canterbury, but from that time serious differences arose between them. The king made many laws, one being, that if a priest or monk was thought to have committed any crime, he should be tried by civil judges, like other men; whereas Becket, in the name of the church, maintained that the clergy should be tried only by the bishops. This quarrel was so serious that Becket was forced to leave England and take refuge with the king of France. After six years, a half reconciliation took place, and the archbishop of Canterbury returned to England. Thomas À Becket soon again incurred the king’s displeasure, and Henry exclaimed in anger, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” Whereupon four of his knights who had heard this remark, and thought that they would gain power over the king by carrying out this wish, immediately went to Canterbury, and finding the archbishop in the cathedral by the altar, they slew him. At first Henry was secretly glad, but the people and priests considered Thomas a martyr, and raised such an outcry of indignation, that three years after, King Henry went to the cathedral of Canterbury, and in order to show his penitence, he entered barefoot, and kneeling by the tomb of Thomas À Becket, he commanded every priest to strike him with a knotted rope upon his bare back. This he endured as an act of penance for causing the death of the archbishop.

The first important event of Richard’s childhood was his betrothment. When he was about four years of age he was formally affianced to Alice, the child of Louis, king of France. Alice was three years of age. Another of King Louis’ children had been married in the same way to Richard’s eldest brother Henry, and the English king complained that the dowry of the young French princess was not sufficient, and this quarrel was settled by an agreement that King Louis should give his other daughter Alice to Richard, and with her another province. These infant marriages, or betrothments, were made by kings in order to get possession of rich territories, for the father of the husbands became the guardians of the provinces, and received any sum of money agreed upon, which they usually appropriated to their own use. This betrothment of Richard became the cause of future differences between himself and Philip, the brother of Alice, when Richard had become king of England, and Philip king of France. At length, in the midst of one of the frequent wars between the king of England and his sons, his eldest son Henry was taken very sick, and being at the point of death, he sent to his father to obtain his forgiveness, and to beg that he would come to see him. The king, fearing it was only some stratagem to get him into the power of the rebellious young prince, who had often broken his word, did not dare to go, but sent an archbishop to Prince Henry, with a ring as a token of his forgiveness. The poor prince who was really dying, and very penitent for his unfilial conduct, pressed the ring to his dying lips with frantic tears of remorse, and commanded his attendants to lay him upon a bed of ashes, which he had ordered prepared, that he might die there as a sign of his sincere repentance. When King Henry heard of the sad death of his eldest son, he was moved to tears, and releasing his wife Queen Eleanor from her imprisonment, he became reconciled to her for a time. But soon again the family dissensions arose. Prince Geoffrey, the second son of King Henry, was killed in a tournament, and Richard, who had now reached manhood, demanded that his father should give him the Princess Alice in marriage, and with her the lands and money intrusted to his care by the king of France. This King Henry refused to do. Some said, because he wished to keep the rich lands himself; others said, because he himself loved the Princess Alice, and that he was determined to seek a divorce from Queen Eleanor, so that he might marry the young princess. Whatever was his motive, King Henry refused to have Richard’s marriage with Alice consummated, and kept the princess shut up in a castle. Whereupon Richard rebelled against his father, and persuaded his younger brother John to espouse his cause. Of course Eleanor took sides with her sons, so she was again shut up in a castle by King Henry, and Richard and John set off for Paris and gained the support of Philip II., of France, who was now king, as Louis was dead. King Henry had determined to divide his kingdom, and as John was his favorite as well as youngest, he resolved to have him crowned king of England, leaving his French possessions to Richard. Whereupon Richard carried off his young brother, and with the help of Philip, raised an army to fight against his father. In this war King Henry, who was now old and broken-spirited by his many sorrows, was so far defeated that he was obliged to submit to negotiations for peace. While the terms were being arranged, King Henry fell very ill, and when the articles of treaty were brought to his bedside, he found that the name of his youngest son John, his darling, who had never rebelled against him before, now headed the list of the princes, barons, and nobles who had gone over to Richard’s side. This quite broke his heart, and he exclaimed with tears, “Is it possible that John, the child of my heart, he whom I have cherished more than all the rest, and for love of whom I have drawn down on my own head all these troubles, has verily betrayed me? Then,” said he, falling back helplessly upon the bed, “let everything go on as it will, I care no longer for myself, nor for anything else in the world.” The king grew more and more excited, until at last he died in a raving delirium, cursing his rebellious children with his last breath. Thus Richard I. became king of England when he was about thirty-two years of age. The sad death of his father occasioned some remorse in the heart of Richard, and he joined in the funeral solemnities. King Henry had died in Normandy, and was buried in an abbey there.

King Richard now sent at once to England, and ordered the release of his mother Queen Eleanor, and invested her with power to act as regent there, while he himself remained in Normandy to secure his French possessions. Queen Eleanor was regent in England for two months, and employed her power in a very beneficent manner. Her imprisonment and sorrows had no doubt disposed her to kindness towards others, and remorse for her past evil deeds prompted her to many acts of mercy.

King Richard now arranged with King Philip of France, to go upon a crusade. Richard was brave, though he was not a good man. His greatest delight was in fighting, and as his claims to his own kingdom were now undisputed, he was eager to enter into a campaign in the Holy Land. His brother Prince John was very willing that Richard should go, and made no claims to any of the provinces of his father, for he hoped that Richard would be killed in the Holy War, and thus the rich kingdoms of England and Normandy would fall to him. Though Richard was brave, he was neither wise nor provident in the administration of his government. His one absorbing idea was how to gain fresh glory as a valiant knight in the war with the Saracens, and he levied heavy taxes upon all his dominions to raise the necessary funds required for the equipment of his army.

These Holy Wars were very costly expeditions. The princes, barons, and knights required very expensive armor, and rich trappings for their horses, and ships were to be bought and equipped, arms and ammunition provided, and large supplies of food purchased. Though the pretense was religious zeal in going out to fight for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, the real motive which animated most of the participants in the several crusades, was love of glory and display.

Upon King Richard’s arrival in England, he proceeded at once to Winchester, where his father had kept his treasures. Richard found here a large sum of money, rich plate, and precious gems of great value. These he placed under the care of trusty officers.

The former adherents of Richard, when he was a prince rebelling against the lawful king his father, now supposed that they would be held by him in high esteem. But in this they were greatly disappointed. King Richard was wise enough to know that those who had aided his rebellions, might likewise aid others against his own supremacy. So he retained his father’s officers and experienced men of state.

The day upon which the coronation of Richard I. was celebrated by a very magnificent ceremony in Westminster Abbey, has become historical not only on that account, but in consequence of a great massacre of the Jews, which resulted from a riot that broke out in Westminster and London immediately after the crowning of the king. The Jews had been persecuted by all the Christian nations of Europe, and the people imagined that they were serving the cause of religion in oppressing them, as they were considered little better than infidels and heathen. As Philip had banished the Jews from France, and confiscated their property, the Jews in England determined to send a delegation to conciliate Richard’s favor, and they accordingly came to Westminster at the time of his coronation, bearing rich presents. As Richard had commanded that no Jew or woman should be present at this ceremony, when the Jewish deputation came in and offered their presents amongst the rest, there was loud murmuring throughout the crowd.

King Richard gladly accepted their rich gifts, but as a Jew was attempting to enter at the gate, a bystander cried out, “Here comes a Jew!” and struck him a blow. Others now assailed him, and as he was escaping, bruised and bleeding, the cry was raised that the Jews were expelled by the king’s orders, and as a riot was now raised in the streets, which became a bloody fight between Jews and Christians, the rumor went forth that the king had ordered all the Jews to be killed. The mob instantly attempted to carry out this supposed order, and Jews were murdered everywhere, in the streets, in their homes; and when they barricaded their dwellings, the mob set fire to them, and men, women, and children perished in the flames.

The king and his nobles were meanwhile feasting in the great banqueting-hall at Westminster, and for a time took no notice of the disturbance. At length officers were sent to suppress the mob, but it was too late. The enfuriated people paid no attention to the few soldiers sent to quell them, and only rested from their bloody work, from sheer exhaustion, about two o’clock the next day.

A few of the men engaged in the riot were afterwards brought to trial and punished, but King Richard found that so many of his chief men were implicated, that he let the matter drop, only issuing an edict, forbidding the Jews to be injured any more.

King Richard now entered upon his preparations for the crusade, with intense zeal. His great need was money, and he seemed to think that the sacred cause was an excuse for most unkingly measures. Richard was endowed with a sort of reckless lion-like courage, which led him to look upon fighting as a sport, and as he had no one to fight at home, he espoused eagerly any pretense of a sacred cause which would give him the pleasure of killing as many men as he pleased, and thereby winning not disapprobation from the world, but loud plaudits for bravery, and zealous devotion to a holy enterprise. Strange delusion! That men should go forth to murder, rob, and devastate the land in the name of the meek and lowly Christ. Only ignorance and superstition could allow the human soul to be so infatuated with not only false, but most atrociously wicked, ideas, which were in entire opposition to the teachings of the Divine Leader whom they professed to follow.

In securing money for the crusade, King Richard resorted to many very questionable expedients. He proceeded to sell the royal domains which he had inherited from his father, and in this manner disposed of castles, fortresses, and towns to the highest bidder. When remonstrated with for thus diminishing the crown property, he replied, “I would sell the city of London itself, if I could find a purchaser rich enough to buy it.”

Richard also sold high offices and titles of honor; and the historians state that King Richard’s presence-chamber became a regular place of trade, where castles, titles, offices, and honors were for sale, to whomsoever would give the best bargain. But the most disreputable manner of raising money was by imposing fines as a punishment for crimes, and then endeavoring to fix crimes upon the wealthy, so that they would be obliged to pay large sums to free themselves. Lastly, Richard sold the nominal regency of England to two wealthy courtiers, one a bishop, the other an earl. Or if he did not sell it to them outright, he arranged that they were to receive the power, and were to give him a large sum of money. He, however, stipulated that his brother John and his mother should have their share of influence in deciding upon measures concerning the government.

Notwithstanding Richard’s quarrels with his father, regarding his marriage with the Princess Alice when he became king, Richard seemed in no hurry to fulfil his engagement, and even determined to set it aside altogether, for he had met and loved a Spanish princess named Berengaria. But, lest this should cause a fresh quarrel with Philip, the brother of Alice, Richard resolved to keep his plans a secret. So he sent his mother Queen Eleanor to Spain to secure Berengaria for his wife, and Eleanor having been successful in her mission, the two ladies, with a train of barons and knights, set out for Italy, where Richard intended to meet them.

Meanwhile, the two kings, Philip and Richard, had continued their preparations for the crusade. As Philip had no ships of his own, he made arrangements with the republic of Genoa to furnish him with ships, and so he departed for that place. Richard, having a large fleet, which he had sent round to Marseilles with orders to await him there, marched his army across France by land. So little reliance did either Philip or Richard place in each other, that neither of them would have thought it safe to leave his own dominions unless the other had been going also. They made a final treaty of alliance before starting, that they would defend the life and honor of the other upon all occasions; that neither would desert the other in time of danger; and that they would respect the dominions of each other.

When King Richard reached Marseilles, he found that his fleet had not arrived. It had been delayed by a storm. Richard, not waiting for his fleet, hired ten large vessels and twenty galleys, and embarked with a portion of his forces, leaving orders for the remainder to follow in the fleet, and to meet him at Messina, in Sicily.

Joanna, the sister of King Richard, had married the king of Sicily. He was now dead, and the throne had been seized by one Tancred, and Joanna had been shut up in a castle. King Richard determined to redress his sister’s wrongs, and after arriving at Genoa, where he found Philip, Richard set out on his way to Messina, stopping at Ostia, Naples, and Salerno, by the way. Having arrived at Messina, where Philip had also landed, Richard, having met his own fleet on the Italian side of the strait, entered the harbor with his ships and galleys fully manned and gayly decorated, while musicians were stationed on the decks, to blow trumpets and horns as the fleet sailed along the shore. The Sicilians were quite alarmed to behold such a formidable host of foreign soldiers, and his allies, the French, did not like this grand display any better, for Philip had arrived with disabled ships, and immediately began to be very jealous of the growing fame of King Richard. Philip determined to leave Messina as speedily as possible, and proceed on his way towards the Holy Land, but having attempted it, and encountered a severe storm, he was obliged to turn back again. As winter had now set in, both kings found that they must remain there until spring. As soon as Richard landed his troops at Messina, he formed a great encampment on the seashore near the town, and then sent an embassy to Tancred, demanding Joanna’s release. Tancred, awed by Richard’s power, immediately complied with this demand, and Joanna being safely out of the power of her enemy, Richard forthwith attacked the city of Messina, and having captured it, Tancred made peace with Richard upon the following terms:—

Richard had a nephew about two years of age, named Arthur. Tancred had an infant daughter. So it was agreed 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 to receive this money as guardian of his nephew, and also twenty thousand pieces of gold besides, in full settlement of all claims of Joanna.

This treaty was drawn up in due form and signed, and sent for safe keeping to the Pope at Rome, and Richard having received the money, began immediately to lavish it in costly presents to the barons and knights in both armies, which gave King Philip cause for suspicions, as he thought Richard was endeavoring to buy the allegiance of his troops, and soon an open quarrel occurred between the two sovereigns. Richard’s use of this trust money demonstrates the small regard he had for the just rights and claims of others. But the distrust which existed between Richard and Philip was no longer concealed. Tancred showed Richard a letter, which was said to have been written by Philip, in which Richard was bitterly denounced as a treacherous foe. Richard indignantly showed this letter to Philip, who denied having written it, and the two kings were soon in a hot dispute. Philip then declared that Richard was endeavoring to break his engagement with his sister Alice. Whereupon Richard retorted that he would never marry her.

The matter was finally settled by a compromise. Richard promised to pay a large sum of money to Philip, who agreed to relinquish all claims on the part of Alice. So Philip sailed away in March, and Richard selected from his fleet a few of his most splendid galleys, and with a chosen company of knights and barons, proceeded to the port in Italy, where Berengaria was staying, under the care of Joanna, Queen Eleanor having returned to England; and King Richard conducted the ladies to Messina. It being the season of Lent, the marriage was still postponed; and Joanna and Berengaria were provided with a strong and well-manned ship, and sailed with the expedition; it being the purpose of Richard to land at some port, after Lent, where the marriage ceremony would be performed. King Richard’s fleet consisted of nearly two hundred vessels. There were thirteen great ships, and over fifty galleys, besides a large number of smaller vessels. Richard sailed at the head of his fleet, in a splendid galley, called the Sea-Cutter. This fine fleet sailed out of the harbor with flying banners, affording the Sicilians an imposing spectacle.

But storms overtook this brilliant array of ships, and soon the fleet was dispersed. Some of the vessels were driven to Rhodes; others took refuge in Cyprus. Richard’s galley went to Rhodes; but the ship containing Berengaria and Joanna was swept onward by the gale to the mouth of the harbor of Limesol, the principal port of Cyprus. The king of Cyprus, in accordance with the custom of those times, had seized upon the wrecks of several vessels belonging to Richard’s fleet; and the commander of the ship in which the princess and queen had sailed, feared to land, lest some harm should come to the royal ladies.

After the storm, Richard set out with his part of the fleet, to find the missing vessels; and having arrived before Cyprus, he found the galley of Berengaria and Joanna safe, but learned that the king of Cyprus had seized upon several of his wrecked vessels, and claimed them as his prize. This was a common practice at that time, and the king of Cyprus had acted in accordance with a customary law, which, though a violation of the real rights of property, gave a person the liberty to confiscate wrecked vessels or goods. In later times, this law was annulled, but the king of Cyprus had the law upon his side; notwithstanding, Richard immediately prepared for war, for he was only too glad to find some pretext for attacking and capturing the fair isle of Cyprus. Richard’s assault upon Limesol was successful; and King Richard, having signaled the galley of Joanna to advance, the whole army landed, and the ladies were lodged in one of the most magnificent of the palaces of the king of Cyprus. The daughter of the king of Cyprus was very beautiful, and was greatly terrified when she was brought into the presence of her father’s conqueror. Richard gave her as an attendant to Berengaria, and sent the defeated king of Cyprus to Tripoli, in Syria, where he was shut up in a dungeon, and secured with chains, which, however, in honor of his rank, were made of silver, overlaid with gold. But what mattered it to the poor imprisoned monarch that his galling chains were of costly metals, when he was shut up in a gloomy dungeon, and his daughter a prisoner in the hands of his enemy?

This poor king died in captivity, broken-hearted, four years after. Now, at last, the marriage of King Richard and Berengaria was celebrated with royal splendor. After the marriage ceremony, there was a coronation, when Richard was crowned king of Cyprus, and Berengaria as queen of both England and Cyprus.

The appearance of King Richard and Berengaria on this occasion was very striking. King Richard wore a rose-colored satin tunic, which was fastened by a jeweled belt about his waist. Over this was a mantle of striped silver tissue, brocaded with silver half-moons. He wore also a costly sword; the blade was of Damascus steel, the hilt of gold, and the scabbard was of silver, richly engraved. On his head was a scarlet bonnet, brocaded in gold, with figures of animals. He carried in his hand a truncheon, which was a sort of sceptre, very elaborately adorned. He was tall and well-formed, with yellow curls and a bright complexion; and when mounted upon his magnificent charger, he appeared a perfect model of military and manly grace. This horse was named Faunelle, and became quite a historical character, acquiring great fame by his strength and courage, and by the marvellous sagacity he displayed in the various battles in which he was engaged with his master. His trappings were very rich; the bit, stirrups, and all the metallic mountings of the saddle and bridle were of gold, and the crupper was adorned with two golden lions. The costume of Queen Berengaria was equally magnificent. The veil was fastened to her head by a royal diadem, resplendent with gold and gems, and was surmounted by a fleur de lis, with so much foliage added to it that it had the appearance of being a double crown, symbolizing her double queenship, both of England and Cyprus.

The chief landing-point for expeditions of crusaders to the Holy Land was Acre, called also St. Jean d’Acre. It received its name from a military order, known as the Knights of St. John, who founded a monastery there for the safety and entertainment of pilgrims. This place was at this time in the hands of the Saracens; and Philip, the French king, who arrived before Richard, had in vain tried to capture it. King Richard, having left Cyprus, together with his bride and sister, proceeded on his way to join Philip at Acre; but he met with one adventure which is worthy of note. In sailing along, his fleet fell in with a ship of large size. Richard ordered his galleys to press on, as the ship seemed to be endeavoring to escape. As they came nearer, they perceived that the strange ship was filled with Saracens. King Richard thereupon ordered his men to board the ship and capture it. The Saracens, feeling that escape was hopeless, scuttled the ship, determined to sink with her rather than fall into the hands of the Christians. Then a dreadful combat ensued. Each side fought with ferocious energy; for although the Saracens expected to die, they were resolved to first wreak their fury upon their foes. The Saracens employed Greek fire, which was a celebrated means of warfare in those days. It was some kind of combustible matter, which was set on fire and thrown at the enemy. Nothing could extinguish it, and besides the great heat it produced, it threw forth dense volumes of poisonous and stifling gases, which soon suffocated those near by. It was thrown on the ends of darts and arrows, and even water did not extinguish it; so that the sea all around this Saracen ship was a mass of lurid flames. Although many of Richard’s men were killed, the Saracen ship was captured before it had time to sink, and the Christians, rushing on board, transferred to their own vessels nearly all of its valuable cargo. But their treatment of their Saracen foes was barbarous in the extreme. They killed and threw into the sea all but about thirty-five men out of twelve or fifteen hundred. These were saved, not from humanity, but in the hope of securing large sums for their ransom. King Richard afterwards defended this brutal conduct by declaring that they had found on board the Saracen ship large jars filled with poisonous snakes, which the infidels were about taking to Acre, to let them loose near the crusaders’ camp.

When Richard’s fleet arrived at Acre, the crusaders encamped there were much encouraged; for their situation was getting very critical, and they had accomplished little or nothing.

The crusaders were not as well disciplined as the Saracen army, which was united under the command of the valiant and powerful Saladin. Among the Christians there were constant quarrels, caused by the petty jealousies and hostilities of the knights and barons. There was one great wrangling over the title of King of Jerusalem, which, although it was an empty title (for the city was still in the hands of the Saracens), there were many claimants for; and each one of them intrigued incessantly to gain partisans to his side. A short time after Richard landed with his bride and army at Acre, fresh quarrels arose between the two kings; and so serious was the difference, that when Philip planned an assault, Richard would not assist him; and when Richard, likewise, made an attack, Philip refused to aid. So that neither assault was successful against their common foe, while large numbers of their own men were killed.

Although the allies failed to capture Acre by assault, the town was at length obliged to surrender to the Christians on account of the famine, which caused such distress that the Saracens entered into negotiations for surrender, which were as follows: “The city was to be surrendered to the allied armies, and all the arms, ammunition, military stores, and property of all kinds which it contained, were to be forfeited to the conquerors. The troops and the people of the town were to be allowed to go free on payment of a ransom. The ransom by which the besieged purchased their lives and liberty was to be made up as follows: The wood of the cross on which Christ was crucified, which was alleged to be in Saladin’s possession, was to be restored. Saladin was to set at liberty the Christian captives which he had taken in the course of the war from the various armies of crusaders, and which he now held as prisoners. The number of these prisoners was about fifteen hundred. Saladin was to pay two hundred thousand pieces of gold. Richard was to retain a large body of men—it was said that there were five thousand in all—consisting of soldiers of the garrison, or inhabitants of the town, as hostages for the fulfilment of these conditions. These men were to be kept forty days, or, if at the end of that time Saladin had not fulfilled the conditions of the surrender, they were all to be put to death.”

Saladin was not within the city, but was encamped with his army upon the surrounding mountains; and finding that he could not aid the besieged inhabitants, he agreed to these overbearing terms, which King Philip had in vain tried to make more honorable. Although the treaty had been made in the names of both the kings, Richard entered the city as the conqueror, assigning to Philip a secondary place; and having taken possession, Richard established himself and Berengaria in the principal palace, leaving Philip to secure quarters as best he might. Richard also enraged the archduke of Austria, who was also one of the crusaders, by pulling down the banner of the duke, which he had ventured to place on one of the towers.

Now, again, the disputes regarding the title of the King of Jerusalem were renewed. Two knights, Guy of Lusignan and Conrad of Montferrat, claimed this title, and Philip and Richard espoused opposite sides, Philip agreeing to help Conrad’s claims, and Richard taking part with Guy. This occasioned so much hard feeling that Philip, who had been sick, announced that he was too ill to remain longer in such an unhealthy climate; and leaving ten thousand French troops under the command of the duke of Burgundy, King Philip returned to France.

We now come to the barbarous massacre of the five thousand Saracen prisoners, by the orders of King Richard, which shocking deed has left a dark blot upon the fame of Richard, even though he gloried in the act and considered it a proof of his zeal in the cause of Christ. The writers of those days praised it, and maintained that, as the Saracens were the enemies of God, whoever killed them did God service. How they could be so blinded by ignorance and superstition we cannot understand; and it appears very amazing that the religion of love which Jesus of Nazareth preached, by his words and his example, could have been so misunderstood by the perverted minds of men; that such a diabolical spirit of ferocious brutality could be esteemed as commendable worship of Almighty God.

The time which had been agreed upon for Saladin to comply with the stipulations of the surrender of Acre having expired, Richard ordered the five thousand prisoners, which he held as hostages, to be brutally beheaded; and a false rumor having been raised, that Saladin had put to death his Christian prisoners, the soldiers of Richard were easily infuriated to be willing to execute this barbarous order. In the face of Saladin’s humane treatment of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, when he captured that city, Mussulman though he was, this shocking barbarity of the crusading army, while calling themselves Christians, was an atrocious crime, which no plea of supposed zeal or ignorant superstition can excuse.

Saladin and his army were now retreating towards Jerusalem, which city was his chief point to defend. Richard, having repaired the walls of Acre, and placed a garrison to hold it, proceeded with thirty thousand men in pursuit of the Saracens. The recovery of the Holy Sepulchre was the great object of the crusaders. All their efforts were considered of no avail, if they failed to accomplish this important end. Richard’s army were to follow the sea-shore to Jaffa, which was a port nearly opposite Jerusalem. This band of crusaders presented a brilliant appearance. The knights wore costly armor, and were mounted on horses richly caparisoned. Some of the horses were protected like their riders, with armor of steel. The columns were preceded by trumpeters and bearers of flags and banners, with very gorgeous decorations. When the expedition halted at night, heralds passed through the several camps, to the sound of trumpets, and at a signal all the soldiers knelt, and the heralds exclaimed, “God save the Holy Sepulchre!” and all the soldiers shouted, “Amen.”

Thus the Christian army advanced to Jaffa. The two armies, Christian and Saracen, then met on a plain near the seashore, called Azotus. Saladin commenced the attack upon the wing of Richard’s army, composed of the French troops under the command of the duke of Burgundy. They resisted and drove the Saracens back. Then Richard gave the signal for a charge, and rode forward at the head of his troops, mounted on his famous charger, and flourishing his heavy battle-axe. This axe was a ponderous weapon. Richard had ordered it made before leaving England, and it was so immense that few men could lift it. But as Richard Coeur de Lion was a man of marvellous strength, he wielded this huge weapon with prodigious force. When it came down upon the head of a steel-clad knight, on his horse, it often crushed both man and steed to the ground. The darts and javelins of the Mohammedans glanced off from King Richard’s steel armor, without inflicting any wound, while Saracen after Saracen was felled to the earth by the blows from his ponderous battle-axe.

It was not long before Saladin’s army was flying in all directions, pursued by the crusaders. After this battle Richard established his army in Jaffa. In the meantime Saladin was collecting forces for a more vigorous resistance. Historians have condemned this inactivity of Richard’s army for so many weeks at Jaffa, thus enabling Saladin to rally his men and become more determined in his defence. During the time while Richard’s army was resting and feasting at Jaffa, King Richard and Saladin entered upon several negotiations, which were carried on through Saphadin, the brother of Saladin, who was provided with a safe conduct through the enemies’ lines. One of these propositions was that Richard and Saladin should cease hostilities and become allies, and that their difficulties should be settled by a marriage between Joanna, Richard’s sister, the ex-queen of Sicily, and Saphadin, the brother of Saladin. But this, and all other propositions, at length came to naught, and in November, Richard advanced with his army as far as Bethany, with a forlorn hope that they might find themselves strong enough to attack Jerusalem. But this hope was vain. Richard’s men were dying from sickness and famine, caused by a large amount of their provisions being spoiled by the fall rains which had now set in, and many of the discouraged soldiers deserted. These losses so thinned King Richard’s ranks, that he was obliged to retreat to Acre. While they were at Bethany, a band of crusaders had ascended a mountain overlooking Jerusalem. King Richard was asked to come and see the holy city in the distance. “No,” said he, covering his face with his cloak, “those who are not worthy of conquering Jerusalem should not look upon it.”

While at Acre, Richard learned that Saladin was besieging Jaffa. The historian Guizot thus describes the rescue of Jaffa from the Saracens:—

“When King Richard arrived at Jaffa, the crescent already shone upon the walls; but a priest who had cast himself into the water in front of the royal vessel told Richard that he could yet save the garrison, although the town was already in the hands of the enemy. The ship had not yet reached the landing-stage, and already the king was in the water, which reached to his shoulders, and was uttering the war-cry ‘St. George!’ The infidels, who were then plundering the city, took fright, and three thousand men fled, pursued by four or five knights of the cross. The little corps of Christians intrenched themselves behind planks of wood, and tuns; ten tents held the whole of the army. Day had scarcely dawned, when a soldier flew to Richard’s bedside. ‘O king, we are dead men!’ he cried; ‘the enemy is upon us.’ The king sprang up from his bed, scarcely allowing himself time to buckle on his armor, and omitting his helmet and shield. ‘Silence!’ he said to the bearer of the bad news, ‘or I will kill you.’ Seventeen knights had gathered round Coeur de Lion, kneeling on the ground, and holding their lances; in their midst were some archers, accompanied by attendants who were recharging their arquebuses. The king was standing in the midst. The Saracens endeavored in vain to overawe this heroic little band; not one of them stirred. At length, under a shower of arrows, the knights sprang on their horses, and swept the plain before them. They entered Jaffa towards evening, and drove the Mussulmans from it. From the time of daybreak Richard had not ceased for a moment to deal out his blows, and the skin of his hand adhered to the handle of his battle-axe.”

Still more graphically do the old chronicles thus describe this battle:—

“Where the fight was fiercest there rode King Richard, and the Turks fell beneath his flashing sword. Then the galley-men, fearing for their lives, left the battle and took refuge in their boats, and the Turks thought to seize the town while the army was fighting in the field. But the king, taking with him but two knights and two crossbowmen, entered the town and dispersed the Turks who had entered, and set sentinels to guard it, and then, hasting to the galleys, gathered together the men, and encouraging them with his words, brought them back to the fight. And as he led them to the field, he fell upon the enemy so fiercely, that he cut his way all alone into the midst of the ranks, and they gave way before him. But they closed around him, and he was left alone, and at that sight our men feared greatly. But alone in the midst of his enemies he remained unmoved, and all as they approached him were cut down like corn before the sickle. And there rode against him a great admiral, distinguished above all the rest by his rich caparisons, and with bold arrogance assayed to attack him, but the king with one blow of his sword cut off his head and shoulder and right arm. Then the Turks fled in terror at the sight, and the king returned to his men, and lo! the king was stuck all over with javelins, like the spines of a hedgehog, and the trappings of his horse with arrows. The battle lasted that day from the rising to the setting sun, but the Turks returned to Saladin, and he mocked his men, and asked them where was Malek-Rik, whom they had promised to bring him. But one of them answered, ‘There is no knight on earth like Malek-Rik; nay, nor ever was from the beginning of the world.’”

King Richard’s forces were now so weakened, that he found it would be hopeless to endeavor to take Jerusalem. The Archduke Leopold, of Austria, had left the army with his men and gone home. This was caused by a quarrel between himself and King Richard. Saladin having left Ascalon, Richard hastened to repair its fortifications. In order to encourage his soldiers, he himself carried stones to the workers, urging the archduke to do the same. “I am not the son of a mason,” replied the Austrian, haughtily. Whereupon, Richard, in anger, struck him a blow in the face, which indignity so enraged the archduke, that he immediately took his forces and returned to Austria.

Another event occurred at this time, the blame of which some historians lay upon King Richard. Conrad of Montferrat, one of the claimants to the title of King of Jerusalem, was murdered by two emissaries, sent by the “Old Man of the Mountain,” who was a famous chieftain, living with his band of bold robbers among the mountains. The men under this chieftain were trained to obey without any dissent the commands given by their leader. A story was spread abroad that these men were hired by King Richard to kill Conrad. The friends of Richard declared, however, that it was caused by a quarrel between Conrad and the Old Man of the Mountain.

Two incidents are related of Saladin’s generosity towards Richard, his foe. At one time King Richard was very sick with fever, and Saladin supplied him with cooling drinks and fresh fruits, thus kindly ministering to the comfort of his sick enemy. At another time, during a battle with the Saracens, Saladin beheld King Richard standing on a little knoll, surrounded by his knights. “Why is he on foot?” asked Saladin, for Richard’s famous charter had been killed that day in the battle. “The king of England should not fight on foot, like a common soldier,” exclaimed Saladin, and forthwith he sent Richard a splendid horse as a present. When the steed was brought to the king, one of his knights mounted him to try his speed. Whereupon, the intelligent animal immediately turned and ran with his rider to the camp of the Saracens. Saladin was so chagrined at this unlooked-for occurrence, and fearing lest Richard should imagine his kindly present had only been sent as a treacherous stratagem, immediately placed the Christian knight upon a more gentle horse, and sent with him a still handsomer charger, as a present to the English king, which Richard gladly received.

Disquieting news now reached King Richard from England. His brother John, aided by Philip of France, had deposed the chancellor, and caused himself to be made governor-general of the kingdom. Under these circumstances, and the hopelessness of capturing Jerusalem, King Richard concluded a truce with Saladin, giving up Ascalon to him, but keeping Jaffa, Tyre, and the fortresses along the coast, and promising to refrain from any hostilities during a period of three years, three months, three weeks, three days, and three hours. “Then I will come back,” said Richard, “with double the men that I now possess, and will reconquer Jerusalem.” Saladin answered: “that if the Holy City was to fall into the hands of the Christians, no one was more worthy of conquering it than Malek-Rik.”

On the 9th of October, 1192, Richard Coeur de Lion left Palestine to return to his own kingdom. The queens embarked first in their vessel, followed soon after by Richard in his war-ship. As the shore of the Holy Land was receding from view, Richard gazed upon it from the deck of his galley; and stretching out his arms towards it, exclaimed,—

“Most holy land, farewell! I commend thee to God’s keeping and care. May He give me life and health to return and rescue thee from the hands of the infidels.”

A storm soon arose, and the vessels of King Richard’s fleet were separated. The queens arrived safely in Sicily, but King Richard was driven to the Island of Corfu. Here he hired three small vessels to take him to the head of the Adriatic Sea, and then he endeavored to cross through Germany by land. He assumed the garb of a merchant, lest his many enemies should discover him. Thus he travelled through the mountains of the Tyrol. But having sent a ring with a messenger to the governor of Goritz, seeking a passport, the governor exclaimed, “This ring belongs to no merchant, but only to the king of England.”

Thus was King Richard discovered; and he was seized by his old enemy, Duke Leopold of Austria, and put into prison. Which event, coming to the knowledge of the emperor of Germany, he himself claimed the illustrious captive, saying, “A duke cannot possibly keep a king.”

So King Richard was shut up in the castle of Trifels by the emperor, where he languished for two years. Meanwhile neither his wife nor mother could obtain any trace of him; and even after his brother John learned that Richard was imprisoned by the emperor of Germany, he joined King Philip of France in making propositions to the German emperor, promising to pay him large sums of money if he would keep the king of England in prison. The place of King Richard’s imprisonment was said to have been discovered by a celebrated troubadour named Blondel, who had known Richard in Palestine, and was now travelling through Germany. As he went along in front of the castle where Richard was confined, he was singing one of the troubadour songs. When he had finished one stanza, King Richard, who knew the song, sang the next verse through the bars of his prison window. Blondel recognized the voice, and perceiving that Richard was a prisoner, he made all speed to go to England and inform King Richard’s friends of his sad situation. It is said that the first news Berengaria received of Richard’s fate was by seeing a jewelled belt offered for sale in Rome. This belt she recognized as one which King Richard wore when he left Acre. But upon inquiry, she could only learn that Richard was somewhere in Germany. The news that King Richard Coeur de Lion was a prisoner in Germany roused great excitement in England and in Rome. The Pope excommunicated Duke Leopold for having seized Richard, and threatened to excommunicate the emperor if he did not release him. Finally the emperor agreed to set the king of England free upon the payment of a certain sum of money, two-thirds of which were to be received before the king should be released. At length, in February, 1194, about two years after Richard was first imprisoned, the first payment was made, and King Richard Coeur de Lion was allowed to go free; and he arrived in England in March, when the people gave him a magnificent reception. As soon as Richard had arranged his affairs, he determined to be crowned a second time as king of England, lest the two years of his captivity might have weakened his claims. He was accordingly recrowned with the greatest pomp and splendor. At the request of his mother he pardoned his brother John, saying, “I hope that I shall as easily forget the injuries he has done me as he will forget my forbearance in pardoning him.” But Richard treated Berengaria with great unkindness and open neglect, until he was suddenly seized with a severe illness, which so alarmed him that he called for a great number of monks and priests, and began to confess his sins, vowing, if God would spare his life, he would abandon his profligate and wicked habits, and treat his wife with kindness. He recovered, and he so far kept his vows as to send for his wife, and become, outwardly at least, reconciled to her. But the fault was all on his side; for poor Berengaria had given him no cause for his cruel treatment of her. The reign of Richard Coeur de Lion was soon to end, however, and the cause was one which shed neither glory nor honor upon his fame. A rich treasure had been found by one of his vassals, the viscount of Limoges. Richard at once claimed it, and the viscount sent him half. But Richard determined to secure the whole of it, and accordingly went to the castle of Chaluz, where the treasure was, and laid siege to the place. It was well defended, but provisions becoming short, the garrison wished to capitulate. “No,” said Richard, “I will take your place by storm, and cause you all to be hanged on the walls.”

While King Richard was examining the point of attack, a young archer, named Bertrand de Gourdon, shot an arrow at the king, and wounded him upon the shoulder. The town was taken and all the garrison were hung. King Richard’s wound, through the unskilful handling of the surgeons, proved to be fatal. As he was dying he sent for Gourdon. “Wretch!” said Richard to the archer, “what had I done to you that you should have attempted my life?”

“You have put my father and two brothers to death,” said Bertrand, “and you wanted to hang me.”

The dying king, at last struck with remorse for his many cruel deeds, said, “I forgive you,” and he ordered the chains of the archer to be removed, and that he should receive one hundred shillings. This humane command, however, was not obeyed, and Bertrand was flayed alive. Richard Coeur de Lion died on the 6th of April, 1199, at the age of forty-two, and was buried, according to his request, at the foot of the grave of Henry II., his father, in Fontevraud Abbey. The figures in stone of the father, mother, and son, who quarrelled so much while living, all lie now on one monument. Richard Coeur de Lion was well called the Lion-Hearted. His glory consisted in his reckless and brutal ferocity. He pretended to be the champion and defender of the cause of Christ, but he used the sacred name of Christianity only as a means of gratifying his own wild ambitions and his inhuman thirst for blood. Though he won the fame of a brave and valorous knight, his savage barbarity and reckless cruelties tarnished all the brightness of his glory, and brought disgrace and dishonor upon the sacred cause of true religion, of which he pretended to be the most zealous upholder.