RICHARD 
 
 VCKUR JDE I.IOJY, 
 
 AN 
 
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Richard Cceur de Lion. 
 
 Richard L surnamed, from his uncom- 
 mon bravery, Cocur dt Lion, or the Lion- 
 hearted, was the second son of Henry 
 If, king England. At that time the 
 kings of England were possessed of many 
 provinces which are now under the domi- 
 nion of France ; and during the life of his 
 father, Richard was invested with the go- 
 vernment and dukedoms of Guienne and 
 Poitere. Shortly afterwards, by the death 
 of his elder brother, he became immediate 
 successor to the English throne. 
 
 But Richard, whose ambition and rest- 
 less courage ever prompted him to warlike 
 deeds, was not content with these honours 
 alone. To be the heir apparent of the crown 
 did not satisfy his ardent temper. He 
 longed to add to that dignity the glory of a 
 conqueror. He panted for martial fame. 
 
4 
 
 RICH AH D 
 
 and to secure the Holy Land from the ty- 
 ranny and oppressions or the Saracens, was 
 the object to which he boldly aspired. 
 
 Nearly a hundred years before all the no- 
 blest spirits of Europe had been inflamed 
 with the same zeal in the same cause, and 
 uniting' their victorious arms, they had res- 
 cued Jerusalem andalmosl]the whole of Pa- 
 lestine from the dominion of the Infidels. 
 
 But, after the first torrent of success was 
 past, and the Christian princes had retired 
 to Europe from the scene of conquest, the 
 Saracens recovered courage, and trium- 
 phed in their turn; they were a raceof war- 
 riors, and by perseverance and unwearied 
 efforts, they at length retook Jerusalem, 
 and not only subdued the Christians, but 
 treated them with oppression and cruelty. 
 
 The European world heard of the pro- 
 gress of the Saracens with indignation 
 and dismay. — Nothing now remained of 
 the wasted conquQ$t$ of the Christian he- 
 
CvCE XT R DK LION. 
 
 5 
 
 roes over Palestine. But the undaunted 
 spirit of those heroes had descended to 
 their successors, and Henry king of Eng- 
 land, the king of France, and the emperor 
 Frederic, entered into a convention, to 
 unite their powers once more to rescue 
 Jerusalem from the hands of the Infidels. 
 
 The ambition of the young prince 
 Richard, however, rendered their plans 
 abortive. He wished to have the glory of 
 such a conquest entirely to himself, and 
 could not bear to have even his father a 
 partner in his victories. 
 
 The king of France greatly helped to 
 seduce the prince from his duty, by promis- 
 ing to assist him in his enterprises, and the 
 unfortunate king of England was obliged 
 first to take up arms against France, and 
 his eldest son thus unfortunately leagued 
 against him, and afterwards to make the 
 most humiliating nml painful concessions 
 
6 
 
 RICHARD 
 
 in order to save his kingdom from being 
 wrested from his hands. 
 
 The lofty monarch, hitherto accustomed 
 to command, was now reduced to the pain- 
 ful necessity of submitting to the hard con- 
 ditions imposed on him by his enemies ; 
 namely of paying a sum of money to the 
 king of- France, and allowing his son 
 Richard to be immediately crowned king 
 of England. 
 
 But even these mortifying conditions 
 gave less pain to the unfortunate Henry 
 than the discovery he made, that his son 
 John (the younger brother of Richard) 
 was of the league against him. 
 
 The persecuted king had long borne an 
 infirm state of health with resignation ; 
 he had seen his own son become his con- 
 queror ; himself bereft of his power, re- 
 duced to the condition of a fugitive, and 
 suppliant ; and all these afflictions he had 
 endured with tranquility of temper.— But 
 
ca:uR DE LION, 7 
 
 when he beheld John, his favourite child 
 among the number of those who were in 
 rebellion against him, he broke out into 
 expressions of the utmost grief and de- 
 spair, and bestowed on his ungrateful 
 children, a malediction he never afterwards 
 could be prevailed on to retract. A lin- 
 gering fever, and a broken heart, soon ter- 
 minated the life and miseries of the ill- 
 fated monarch. He died at the castle of 
 Chinon near Saumcr, having reigned in 
 England thirty-five years. 
 
 Richard, w hose ambitious thirst of glory 
 had draw n him aside from the duty he owed 
 to his king and parent, beheld the death 
 of his father with the greatest anguish and 
 remorse. He hastened to the Abbey Church 
 of Fontrevault, where the corpse of the 
 king had been conveyed, and exclaiming 
 that he w r as the murderer of his father, 
 he threw himself on the ground, and lu* 
 
 A 4 
 
8 
 
 hiciiarb 
 
 mented his past conduct with tears of un- 
 feigned sorrow and contrition. 
 
 .Nor did Richard upon his elevation to 
 the throne, amidst the pomp and splendour 
 which surrounded him, forbear to testify 
 the strong sense he entertained of his past 
 errors. lie neglected no opportunity of 
 doing honour to the memory of the late 
 king, and as the surest mark of his repent- 
 ance, he dismissed from his service all 
 those who had encouraged or assisted him 
 Li his undutiful conduct. 
 
 The persons who had seconded his re- 
 bellion, instead of being rewarded with 
 wealth, honours, and lofty stations, as they 
 expected to be, w ere driven from the court 
 with ignominy, or treated with scorn and 
 neglect ; while those servants and adhe- 
 rents, who had remained faithfully and 
 loyally attached to the late king in all his 
 reverses of fortune, were taken by Richard 
 into his immediate favour and protection. 
 
CCEUR DE LION*. 
 
 9 
 
 Thus the youthful monarchy by these 
 public testimonies of repentance for the 
 errors of his past conduct, expiated his 
 offences, and endeared himself to the 
 hearts of his subjects. 
 
 The king had made but one exception, 
 when he cast off the abettors of his former 
 errors, and that was in favour of his brother 
 John — an exception that fraternal affec- 
 tion might not only excuse but justify. He 
 was profuse in the favours he heaped upon 
 John, but that selfish and narrow-minded 
 prince made a most ungrateful return to 
 the munificent affection of his brother. 
 
 Richard, however, was no way suspicious 
 in his temper, nor did he pay much atten- 
 tion to his own security ; military ardour, 
 the desire of fame, were the cherished pro- 
 pensities of his mind. A romantic desire 
 for strange adventures, an intolerant zeal 
 for the external rights of Christianity, and 
 
 A O 
 
10 
 
 II I CHARD 
 
 an enthusiastic admiration of the pomp of 
 chi valry, were the ruling passions of the 
 age in which he lived ; and the bold, the 
 enterprising, the warlike temper of the 
 monarch, but too well accorded with the 
 temper of the times. 
 
 Scarcely was Richard seated on his 
 throne, w hen he determined upon an ex- 
 pedition to the Holy Land, resolving to 
 revive the glory of the English name, and 
 make the enemies of Christianitv tremble. 
 
 His father had left a large sum of money 
 in the royal treasury, and this sum Rich- 
 ard endeavoured to augment by every 
 means in his power. 
 
 Numerous expedients were tried to pro- 
 cure money from people of all ranks and 
 stations ; and menances or promises fright- 
 rned the timid, or allured the avaricious 
 into compliance. Meanwhile, Richald, 
 dazzled with the hopes of fame, and pant- 
 ing to lead his troops to victory, was blind 
 
€<EUR DC LION. 
 
 11 
 
 to -everv other consideration , and his infa- 
 tuated subjects willingly impoverished 
 themselves to gratify the aspiring wishes 
 of their monarch, — They applauded this 
 splendid commencement of his reign, and 
 predicted the future glory of his career. 
 
 At length Richard having completed his 
 preparations, set out for the Holy Land, 
 whither he was impelled by repeated mes- 
 sages from the king of France, who was 
 ready to embark in the same enterprise. 
 
 The first place of rendezvous for the two 
 armies of England and France, was the 
 plain of Vazelay, on the borders of Bur- 
 gundy, where, when the French and Eng- 
 lish monarchs arrived, they found their 
 armies amounting to a hundred thousand 
 fighting men; these were all ardent in the 
 cause, the chosen flower of the military of 
 both dominions, and well provided with 
 all the implements and accoutrements of 
 
n i C H A R X) 
 
 war ; while the English and French mo~ 
 narchs presaged the most unlimited suc- 
 cess from the strength of their armies., and 
 the eagerness of their troops in the cause. 
 
 In the presence of their assemhled sol- 
 diers, the two kings entered into the most 
 solemn engagements of mutual support, 
 and having determined to conduct their 
 armies by sea to the Holy Land , they part- 
 ed, one for Genoa, and the other for Mar- 
 seilles, in order to meet the fleets that were 
 to attend them at their respective stations. 
 
 Scarcely had both fleets put to sea, when 
 a violent storm arose, which compelled 
 them to take shelter in the port of M essina, 
 the capital of Sicily ; and the season being 
 already too far advanced to permit them, 
 to relit the vessels for sea, both armies 
 were under the necessity of remaining 
 there during the winter. 
 
 Richard took up his quarters in the su- 
 burbs of Messina; but Philip stationed his 
 
CCEUH BE LION\ 1 
 
 troops in the tow r n, and lived in habits of 
 intimacy with the Sicilian king. 
 
 It is now unknown whether it was owing 
 to the secret intrigues of the French king, 
 or some haught y and arbitary measures on 
 the part of Richard, that a violent quarrel 
 soon arose between the Sicilians and the 
 English ; but certain it is, that the inhabi- 
 tants of Messina took occasion to treat the 
 English with great insolence : they shut 
 the gates of their city against them, man- 
 ned their walls, and breathed nothing but 
 invectives and defiance. 
 
 Richard, with more prudence and cau- 
 tion than misrht have been expected from 
 his impetuous and ardent temper, sought 
 by every means in his power to avoid com- 
 ing to an absolute rupture with the Mes- 
 sinese, and endeavoured to use the medi- 
 ation of Philip to compromise the quarrel; 
 but while he was engaged in this praise- 
 worthy and peaceable negotiation, a party 
 
RICHARD 
 
 of Sicilians one day suddenly issued from 
 the town, and attacked the English with 
 great fury. 
 
 This outrage was sufficient to rouse the 
 anger and vengeance of the intrepid and 
 war-like Richard. He instantly summoned 
 his troops, attacked the city, and in a short 
 time, with his own hand, he planted the 
 standard of England upon the ramparts 
 of Messina. 
 
 Philip, who considered Messina as his 
 quarters, exclaimed loudly against the con- 
 duct of Richard, and ordered some of his 
 troops to advance, and tear down the En- 
 glish flag from the walls. Richard would 
 not suffer the French soldiers to approach, 
 but sent for answer to the angry monarch, 
 that he would himself remove the stan- 
 dard, at the request of his associate ; but 
 that no power on earth should compel him 
 so to do. 
 
 From this hour, jealousy, distrust, and 
 
COGUtt DE LION . 15 
 
 suspicion, took place of the harmony that 
 had previously subsisted between the al* 
 lied monarchs. Numberless disputes fol- 
 lowed, which the Sicilian king took con- 
 siderable pains to inflame and protract, 
 However, after an interval spent in al- 
 ternate debate and reconciliation, they 
 settled all controversies, entered into new 
 engagements, and set sail in their respec- 
 tive fleets for the Hoi v Land, where it was 
 the ^ood fortune ot the French to arrive 
 before the English, for Richard's fleet 
 again encountered a tempest, and two of 
 the ships were driven upon the coast of 
 the island of Cyprus. 
 
 Isaac, who was then prince of that 
 country, inhumanly pillaged the ships 
 that were stranded, and threw the seamen 
 and soldiers into prison. 
 
 But Richard took ample vengeance for 
 that injury. He landed his troops, defeat- 
 ed the tyrant, and took the island into his 
 
16 RICHARD 
 
 own possession. It was there that he was 
 betrothed to Matilda, daughter of the 
 king of Navarre, a lady who bore so me- 
 morable a share in his subsequent misfor- 
 tunes. 
 
 Upon the arrival of Richard with his 
 army in Palestine, the two kings seemed 
 to have buried their animosities, and to 
 think only of the common cause liy 
 thus acting in concert, daily advantages 
 were Grained. In foesieedus the city of 
 Acra, while the one made the attack, the 
 other guarded the trenches; and this duty 
 they performed each day alternately; in 
 consequence of which, the garrison, after 
 an obstinate resistance, were compelled to 
 surrender. 
 
 It could not, however, fail soon to be 
 perceived by the French monarch, that 
 the English were rapidly gaining the as- 
 cendancy. The bold intripid spirit of 
 Richard ever prompting him to deeds of 
 
GCEUll BE LION. 
 
 17 
 
 valour, Hourly increased his popularity 
 among the soldiers of both armies ; ahd 
 Philip, equally unable to endure the supe- 
 riority of his rival, as to lay claim to it by 
 any prominent merits of his own, suddenly 
 announced his resolution of returning to 
 France. He pleaded a bad state of health 
 as an excuse for his unexpected desertion, 
 and to give a colour to his friendly pro- 
 fessions of regard towards Richard, he left 
 him ten thousand of his troops. 
 
 Richard, now the sole conductor of the 
 war, was at the very summit of his wishes. 
 Gratified ambition gave him new ardour 
 for conquest, and un sated with glory, he 
 went triumphantly from victory to victory. 
 
 Saladin, the most renowned of all the 
 Saracen monarchs, prepared to oppose the 
 progress of the English arms, and took the 
 field with an immense, and hitherto invin- 
 cible army, consisting of 300,000 men. 
 
 This was a day equal to Richard's 
 
18 
 
 RICHARD 
 
 hopes, — this an enemy worthy his highest 
 ambition. 
 
 The English were victorious.— At first 
 the attack of the Saracens was so fierce,, 
 and they came pouring on in such multi- 
 tudes, that the wings of the English army 
 gave way. Richard seeing the disorder* 
 and threatened defeat of his troops, led on 
 the main body in person, and restored the 
 battle. The Saracens fled in the utmost 
 confusion, and forty thousand of their 
 j numbers perished on the field of battle. 
 
 Richard was now within sijrht of Jeru- 
 salem, the object of his long and ardent 
 expectations. But at this glorious junc- 
 ture, he first learned to know how fleeting 
 as are the triumphs of ambition, and was 
 forced to make an estimate of the dreadful 
 cost of his multiplied victories. 
 Hi His army wasted with famine, exhausted 
 
 i by fatigues, and deplorably reduced in 
 I numbers, Mere neither able nor willing 
 
1 
 
 I 
 
CCEUR BE LIOxV. IQ 
 
 any longer to follow the footsteps, or se- 
 cond the views of their leader. Richard 
 therefore, however reluctant to abandon 
 'bis career of conquest, was obligor to offer 
 terms of accomodation to Saladin, and a 
 
 i 
 
 cassation of hostilities during three years, 
 n as concluded on. 
 
 Richard) having thus concluded his 
 expedition with more glory to himself 
 1 lum advantage to his people, after station- 
 ing his troops in the garrisoned towns he 
 |iad possessed himself of, began to think 
 >f returning to England. 
 
 But he was at a loss how to proceed 
 hither. lie was perfectly aware that the 
 ting of France was now his decided ene- 
 ny> and he determined to avoid putting 
 :imself in his power; he, therefore, with 
 
 few domestics, took shipping for Italy, 
 ike winds and the waves seemed con- 
 to be unpropitious to the mo- 
 : arch's designs. He was once more 
 
20 RICHARD 
 
 wrecked near Aquilia, and with difficulty 
 saved his life. 
 
 Richard^ now divested not only of the 
 splendid train of a conqueror, but even of 
 any attendants, become a solitary traveller, 
 and foreboding the dangers that awaited 
 him, put on the disguise of a pilgrim, in- 
 tending privately to make his way through 
 Germany. Unfortunately, the monarch 
 was not endowed with that cautious, self- 
 
 "V. 
 
 denying, and forbearing temper, that could 
 adapt his mien, and manners, to his dis- 
 guise ; and very shortly his real quality 
 became suspected. 
 
 The governor of Istria pursued him, in 
 order to take him prisoner ; but Richard 
 escaped his pursuit, and quitting the direct 
 road, he proceeded to Vienna, where in 
 despite of the late w arning he had re- 
 ceived, his incautious liberalities, and his 
 princely munificence, again betrayed the 
 
COwH £E LION. 21 
 
 gallant monarch, and conqueror of Sala- 
 din, under the homely garb of a pilgrim. 
 
 He was arrested at Vienna by Leopold 
 duke of Austria, imprisoned, and loaded 
 with fetters, to the disgrace of honour and 
 humanity. 
 
 Leopold had served under Richard in 
 Palestine, and was instigated to this base 
 and cruel outrage, by some harsh expres* 
 sion the king had used towards him at the 
 seie e of A era. 
 
 The emperor of Germany, another nar- 
 row-minded potentate, who hated and en- 
 vied the renown of the English monarch, 
 no sooner heard of Richard's being in 
 custody, than he ordered the prisoner to be 
 delivered to him, and rewarded the duke 
 Leopold's treachery w ith a large sum of 
 money. 
 
 The emperor secretly removed his cap- 
 tive to a remote fortress, where the king of 
 England, who had long filled the world 
 
IU£ HARD 
 
 with his fame, now languished in a dim- 
 geon, loaded with chains, and siifferifig 
 all the insults and mortifications that ma* 
 lieious tyranny could invent. 
 
 In those times there was so little inter- 
 course between different nations, that the 
 English knew not what was become of their 
 warlike and beloved monarch. The people 
 lamented him unceasingly, but prince 
 John, who had the government of the 
 kingdom entrusted to him in Richard** 
 absence, basely sought to possess himself 
 of the throne, and took no one step to- 
 wards unravelling the mvsterv that con- 
 cealed the fate of his king and brother. 
 
 But not thus supine, base, and de^ene- 
 rate, was the princess Matilda, the beloved 
 and affianced bride of the unfortunate mo- 
 narch, 
 
 The amiable princess suspecting that 
 her roval lover had been treacherously" 
 ensnared by some of the German princes, 
 
CGEUR BE LION. 
 
 23 
 
 secretly left the court of the king her fa- 
 ther, and in the habit of a poor minstrel 
 boy, she wandered through Germany in 
 search of Richard's prison. 
 
 Man}- a weary mile she traversed, while 
 dangers, terrors, and disappointment, fol- 
 lowed her steps. Her delicate frame, 
 nurtured in all the comforts, elegancies, 
 and luxurious enjoyments of her station, 
 was now exposed to the warfare of ele- 
 ments. The princess, before whom the 
 nobles of the land had bowed in respect- 
 ful homage, i\ow disguised in the lowly 
 garb of poverty, patiently endured the 
 scornful taunts or neglect of the rich, or 
 the rude familiarities of the humble. 
 
 Ever studious not to betray her mission 
 by any appearances above the lowly pre- 
 tensions of a wandering minstrel, she was 
 content to eat the homeliest fare of the 
 cottagers, and to lie on a bed of straw. 
 
 In this manner did the princess pass 
 
9 i T; TCH All.D 
 
 from fortress to castle, and from castle to 
 fortress, till chance at length happily con- 
 ducted her steps to the gloomy towers 
 which held the conqueror of the Saracens 
 an inglorious captive : an unusual and 
 scrupulous exactness in all the military 
 duties of the little garrison stationed there, 
 gave the princess reason to hcheve she had 
 at length obtained her object. 
 
 In a small village near the caslle, the 
 pretended minstrel now took up her abode, 
 She won the good will of the Dcasants 
 by her sin^jng. and tier skill on the harp, 
 and they vied with each other who should 
 be most kind and hospitable to the poor 
 minstrel. 
 
 w herf the labours of the davwere ended, 
 and the cottagers were gathered in groupes 
 under the shade of their trees to enjoy the 
 <*ool breeze of evening, their conversation 
 often ran upon the prisoner so closely 
 guarded in the neighbouring fortress. Every 
 
CGEUR BE LION. <25 
 
 peasant had a different hero for his tale; 
 some called liim a Moor, some a Turk, and 
 each was positive in maintaining; his own 
 belief, but none of them, save the attentive 
 Matilda, even suspected the captive to be 
 the warlike Richard Caur dc 1/wil 
 
 The minstrel now daily approached 
 nearer and nearer to the ramparts of die 
 castle. At first she was rudely and se- 
 verely repulsed by the centinels on duty : 
 but her perseverence, her gentle, timid 
 manners, and above all, the sweet and 
 plaintive strains that she issued from her 
 harp, softened the rigid severity of the sol- 
 diers, and the poor harmless minstrel boy 
 Nvas frequently allowed to approach, and 
 retire, unheeded. 
 
 At length the attention of the governor 
 of the fortress was attracted by the song of 
 the humble minstrel; she was then per- 
 mitted to pass the gates, and sit with a. 
 throbbing heart, yet careless mien, upon 
 
26 
 
 RI CH Alt 13 
 
 the ramparts, near the windows of the 
 governor's apartment, touching her harp 
 with a skilful, though trembling hand. 
 
 Having become as it were a sort of de- 
 pendent at the fortress, and now passing 
 and repassing without exciting more than 
 common notice, Matilda wandred through 
 the courts of the castle daily, repeating a 
 plaintive song, and listening with anxious 
 wishes,for the answering voice of Richard. 
 
 This song, so often, so anxiously repeat- 
 ed, was composed by Richard himself,who 
 had taught his mistress to play and sing 
 the air, in the happy hours of their first 
 intercourse. 
 
 At length when the hopes of the prin* 
 cess was almost vanquished by disappoint- 
 ment and despair, she one day repeated 
 the first stanza of her song near a narrow 
 grating which admitted light into a sub- 
 terranean passage and presently was an- 
 swered by the king from within. 
 
€ CEUR DE LION 
 
 27 
 
 The transports of her joy had nearly 
 overwhelmed Matilda. Fearing that her 
 imagination had deceived her, trembling 
 and palpitating, she again essayed the 
 verse, and again the melodious voice of 
 Richard echoed back the strain. 
 
 The noble minded princess, worthy to 
 be the bride of a hero, now convinced that 
 die had discovered the prison of her royal 
 lover, had the prudence immediately to 
 withdraw from the castle, lest the violence 
 of her emotions should betray her to the 
 observation of the governor. 
 
 She felt that every moment she lingered 
 gear its walls, was an added weight to the 
 sufferings of the captive, and with that 
 unabated Urmness, and self command, 
 upon which the success of all great and 
 virtuous enterprises must depend, she 
 denied herself the satisfaction of as:ain 
 approaching the grate of Richard's dun* 
 geon. Her single arm she knew was insuf- 
 
28 HI C II ATI D 
 
 fieicnt to rescue the inspired monarch, 
 she, therefore, hastened With impatient 
 steps, to summon the friends of Richard to 
 unite their efforts for his deliverance. 
 
 It was thus by the unexampled courage, 
 constancy, and persevering affection of 
 Matilda, princess of Navarre, that the 
 English werefirst informed of the sufferings 
 anci captivity of their beloved monarch. 
 
 The people testified their regard for him 
 by violent clamours of grief and despair. 
 The clergy considered him as a sufferer in 
 the cause of the church, and all mouths 
 were filled with the nobleness of his ac- 
 tions, and the greatness of his fall. 
 
 But while these testified the sinceritv of 
 their sorrow, there were some that secretly 
 exulted in his disaster. Of this number 
 was the king of France, and his own bro- 
 ther John, who trampling upon every tie of 
 kindred loyalty, duty, and gratitude, sud- 
 denly went to France, and held a confer- 
 
CCEUR DE LION. 2Q 
 
 ence with Philip, wherein it was agreed to 
 make the captivity of Richard perpetual; 
 and that the prince John should ascend 
 the English throne. 
 
 Having concluded upon the terms of 
 this treaty , John returned to England, and 
 upon his arrival in London, claimed the 
 throne as being heir to his brother, of 
 » whose death he pretended to have received 
 certain intelligence. But the traitor" 
 views were frustrated. His claim was re- 
 jected by the nobles and the people, and 
 he was compelled to retire to the protec- 
 tion of the king of France, whose alliance 
 he openly acknowledged. 
 
 The emperor now convened the German 
 princes, and in order to justify his own 
 barbarous proceedings,he accusedRichard 
 of a number of crimes and misdemeanors; 
 among which were, his affront to duke 
 Leopold, and his having basely betrayed 
 the cause of the Christian arms, by entering 
 
30 
 
 RICHARD 
 
 into a truce with Saladin, and leaving 
 Jerusalem in the hands of the infidels. 
 
 Richard , whose lofty spirit, their cruel 
 indignities had not been able to subdue, 
 answered these charges in a manner so 
 firm and so just, that the emperor was dis- 
 graced in the eyes of all Europe, and see- 
 ing he could no longer make any decent 
 pretext for detaining his prisoner, he of- 
 fered the king of England his liberty, upon 
 paying a ransom of a hundred and fifty 
 thousand marks — a sum amounting to 
 three hundred thousand pounds. 
 
 No sooner were the terms of the king's 
 ransom known in England, than the ar- 
 dour of the people was inflamed to the 
 greatest eagerness. Voluntary contribu- 
 tions poured in from every quarter to pur- 
 chase the freedom of the king; the churches 
 and monasteries sold their plate ; the bi- 
 shops, abbots, and nobles, paid a fourth of 
 their annual income, and the necessary sum 
 
CCEUIt BE LION. 
 
 31 
 
 being thus speedilyamassed,proper persons 
 immediately set out with it to Germany. 
 
 While the English were thus piously em- 
 ployed in preparing for the ransom of their 
 king, Philip of France was entirely occu- 
 pied in endeavouring to prolong Richard's 
 captivity. He offered to marry the empe- 
 ror's daughter, and give him a sum equal 
 to the ransom, if he would only detain his 
 prisoner one year more in captivity. 
 
 The emperor was very willing to sacrifice 
 every consideration of honour and justice, 
 but he feared the resentment of the Ger- 
 man princes. He continued thus fluctu- 
 ating; between his fears and avarice, till 
 the day fixed for the king's deliverance 
 arrived. Richard's deliverance from cap- 
 tivity was performed at Mentz with great 
 ceremony, .in presence of all the German 
 nobility. 
 
 Butno sooner \ras his captive freed, than 
 the most malignant passions filled the 
 
It I C II A R D 
 
 emperor's breast. He could not endure 
 to see one he had made his enemy re- 
 stored to felicity, nor could he bear to lose 
 the rewards the king of France was will- 
 ing to bestow for his detention. 
 
 Plis former fears were swallowed up by 
 the dictates of his malice and avarice, and 
 lie gave peremptory orders that Richard 
 should be pursued, seized, and brought 
 back to his dungeon. Happily, Richard, 
 aware of the possibility of such treachery, 
 unusually cautious, had not lost one mo- 
 ment in getting on board a vessel, and 
 was out of sight of land before his pur* 
 suers had reached the coast. 
 
 Nothing could surpass the rapturous joy 
 of the English upon seeing their monarch 
 return after all his achievements and suf- 
 ferings. He made a triumphal entry into 
 London ; and such was the profusion of 
 wealth and splendor exhibited by the citi- 
 zens on this occasion^ that the German 
 
CCEUR DE LION. 
 
 lords who attended the king-, were heard 
 to remark to each other., that if the empe- 
 ror had known the affluence of the English, 
 he would not so easily have parted with 
 their king. 
 
 The day after Richard landed in Eng- 
 land, his faithless brother John came to 
 make submission ; and threw himself at 
 the monarch's feet. The king could not 
 forbear to express some resentment against 
 a prince who had acted so base and cruel 
 a part towards him, but being implored to 
 receive him again into favour, " Well,, I 
 forgive him," said the king ; c< and I wish 
 I may as easily forget his offences, as he 
 will forget my pardon." 
 
 This generous condescension was not 
 thrown away upon prince John, who from 
 that time remained faithfully attached to 
 his brother, and did him signal services in 
 the war which followed with Trance. 
 
 Richard, after his return from captivity, 
 
34 
 
 HICHARB 
 
 was not tardy in seeking to avenge himself 
 of the perfidious and cruel conduct of the 
 French king. A war followed with France, 
 in which both parties were inflamed by 
 their animosity to acts of insult-, oppres- 
 sion, and revenge. 
 
 The fruitless contest between France 
 and. England, was suddenly terminated by 
 the death of Richard, which happened 
 in the following manner. One Aymaiv 
 viscount of Limoees, and a vassal of the 
 crown, had talcen possession of a treasure 
 which was found by one of his peasants in 
 digging a field. Of this treasure Avinar 
 sent a small part to the king, and kept the 
 remainder to himself. But Richard, as 
 superior Lord, was entitled to the whole; 
 and the necessary expences of the war 
 having drained his supplies, he determined 
 to enforce his right, and possess himself 
 of the treasure which Avmar steadily rt 
 fused to deliver up. 
 
C(£UR BE LION. 35 
 
 The king attacked the castle of Chalus, 
 where he learned the treasure was deposit- 
 ed, and on the fourth day of the seige , as 
 he was riding round the walls to observe 
 where the assault might be given with the 
 fairest hopes of success, he was aimed at 
 by one Bertram de Gourd on, a French 
 archer, from the castle, and pierced by 
 an arrow in the shoulder. 
 
 The wound was not in itself dangerous., 
 but an unskilful surgeon 'endeavouring to 
 disengage the arrow from the flesh, so 
 tore and irritated the wound, that it mor- 
 tified with fatal symptoms. 
 
 Richard, when he found his death in- 
 evitable, made a will, in which he be- 
 queathed the crown to his brother John, 
 and also his jewek and treasures, except 
 a fourth part to be distributed among his 
 servants. 
 
 He soon after commanded that the 
 archer who shot him should be brought 
 
3-6 III CHARD CGEUR DE LION. 
 
 into liis presence, and demanded what Hi- 
 jury he had ever done to him, that he 
 should have desired to take away his lifer 
 • — The archer answered with solemn intre- 
 pidity, u You killed my father and my two 
 brothers. I am now in your power. Inflict 
 your torments on me ! I will endure them 
 with pleasure, since I have the consolation 
 of having destroyed a tyrant." 
 
 Richard, struck with the answer,ordercd 
 the soldier to be presented with one hun- 
 dred shillings, and to be set at liberty: and 
 shortly afterwards the monarch expired. 
 
 Thus died the warlike Richard Coeur 
 de Lion, in the tenth year of his reign, 
 and the forty-second year of his age*; 
 
 TIJE END 
 
 Printed by 7 t Dirrevu St. A 
 
2 A IQ/^Qi