King Richard I of England (r. 1189-1199), as depicted outside the Palace of Westminster in London. Thanks to Sir Walter Scott (and Errol Flynn), Richard is widely regarded with affection as a strong, soldierly King commanding great loyalty, and the undeserving victim of conspiracies hatched by his brother ‘bad’ King John. Charles Dickens, however, paints him as a King who cared little for England, persecuted her Jews, slew prisoners of war in cold blood, and broke faith with lovers, friends and political allies. The truth, as usual, lies somewhere in between.
Part 1 of 2
KING Richard I of England gained his nickname of ‘Lionheart’ in the Holy Land, fighting to liberate Jerusalem from the ruling Muslims.* In this he narrowly failed, but returned to his estates in France (he rarely spent time in England) in 1194 a hero, having conquered Cyprus, defeated his arch-enemy Saladin in battle,* and been expensively ransomed out of the hands of a disgruntled former ally, Leopold of Austria.*
Five years later, the Lionheart’s legendary soldiering was concentrated on the French town of Limoges, whose lord, Viscount Aimar, had risen in revolt against him. Here, Richard was definitely not a hero: a popular ballad in the taverns boasted that he would be slain by an arrow from that city.
But Richard cared nothing for songs. As he besieged the rebellious Count’s modest château, he walked beneath the battlements openly, laughing at the peasants who shot wildly from above – until one day, a bolt from a Limoges crossbow found Richard’s shoulder by the neck.
This account is based in part on the ‘Chronica’ (Annals) of Roger of Howden, a Yorkshireman in Henry II’s diplomatic service who in 1190 joined Henry’s son, now King Richard I, on the Third Crusade (1189-1192). A year later Roger came back in the company of King Philip II of France, who like Leopold of Austria had fallen out with the ‘Lionheart’. Roger regarded Richard with awe, but very little affection.
At the Battle of Arsuf on September 7th, 1191. Arsuf is the Arabic name for Apollonia, an ancient city just north of modern Tel Aviv, that had become part of the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1101.
Richard was kept at Dürnstein Castle in Austria, then moved to Trifels Castle in the Rhineland Palatinate, under the guard of Holy Roman Emperor Henry VI, who demanded 150,000 marks – at least twice the crown’s annual income – for his release. Richard returned home on February 4th, 1194, after his mother, Eleanor, had raised the money through tax, sale of lands, and confiscations. Richard’s brother John, who was busily working with King Philip of France to usurp Richard’s throne, had offered Henry 80,000 to keep him until the autumn.
Précis
After King Richard I returned from the Third Crusade, having earned the nickname ‘Lionheart’, he was called upon to put down a rebellion in the French town Limoges, then under his rule. Local bards prophesied that he would meet his doom from a Limoges arrow, but Richard scorned their songs, until he was wounded by a bolt from a crossbow. (60 / 60 words)
Part Two
The tomb of King Richard I of England, in Fontevraud Abbey, France. Some of his remains were interred in the Château de Châlus Chabrol near Limoges in Haute-Vienne, where he died on April 6th, 1199, aged 41. That famous ‘lion heart’ was buried in Rouen. But the rest of his body lies in Fontevraud Abbey, next to his sister-in-law Isabella, wife of King John, and at the foot of the tomb of his father, King Henry II.
RICHARD retired to his tent unconcerned; meanwhile the castle was taken, and every rebel hanged – except Richard’s assailant, a mere boy named Bertrand, who was dragged to the king’s bedside.*
By now Richard’s wound was gangrenous, and his mighty frame crumbling. “What harm have I done you?” he demanded pettishly. “None,” was Bertrand’s reply, “but murdering my father and my two brothers. So slay me too,” he taunted, baring his neck; “nothing can rob me of my victory!”
There was a long pause. Then to the would-be martyr’s disappointment, “Live on!” the King commanded. “And thank me every morning for the sunrise. May my example give hope to those vanquished today!” He also promised Bertrand a hundred shillings.*
But the King’s chief officer, Mercardier, knew nothing of this, and
had Bertrand hanged; for the conqueror of Saladin never recovered from
Bertrand’s arrow, and died on April 6th, 1199, prompting Roger of
Howden’s epitaph,
‘In this man’s death
The Lion was slain by the ant.’
Charles Dickens and Roger of Howden name him Bertrand or Bertram, but several other names have been given to Richard’s nemesis by chroniclers. How much of the story is true remains debatable, though Richard did die at the Château de Châlus Chabrol near Limoges, of a wound from a crossbow bolt that turned septic.
Dickens wonders whether the King remembered the time when Saladin sent fruits and snows to cool his fever as he lay in his tent after Arsuf. “Perhaps some remembrance of his generous enemy Saladin, who was not a Christian, came into the mind of the dying King.”
Précis
After crushing the revolt with brutal efficiency, Richard turned to the young man who had wounded him. The wound had turned gangrenous, and Richard knew he was dying, but still pardoned his murderer, much to that would-be martyr’s disappointment. Nonetheless, Richard did die, and it was said that England’s Lion had been slain by a French ant. (57 / 60 words)
