Philip Augustus was saying that his illness was a result of poison and, in view of his relationship with Richard, had half suggested that Richard was behind the attempt to poison him.
I thought the quarrel must have gone very deep.
Philip Augustus was determined to show his anger. He went into Normandy and at Gisors demanded that his sister Alais be returned to him. The Seneschal refused to give her up. I supported him in this. Alais must remain where she was for a time. I did not want more stories spread about her seduction by Henry and her desertion by Richard.
It looked to me as though we might be at war with France and, with Richard far away, that was the last thing I wanted.
However, I was mistaken. Having just returned from what was evidently an exhausting experience and being truly very sick, Philip Augustus had no stomach for war at such a time.
I should have looked elsewhere for trouble.
Messengers came from England with disturbing information. My son John was spreading the fabrication that his brother Richard had no intention of coming home, and as the people could not continue without a king, he, the late King’s son, was ready to be crowned. For this purpose he would need allies. He must have heard of the quarrel between Philip Augustus and Richard, and the French King was just the ally for him. With Richard away and with the French King’s help, it should be an easy matter to take the crown. What revenge for Philip Augustus! What glory for John!
Now I was really worried. I could no longer stay in France. I must go to England with all speed.
It was February—just about the worst time of year to cross the treacherous Channel, but no matter, I must go.
I suffered the journey and made my way to Windsor, where I summoned all the barons and the clergy to come to me.
When they were assembled, I said: “I have information that my son John is gathering together a fleet and an army of mercenaries. His object is to go to France and solicit the help of the French King in gaining the crown. He is ready to give up certain overseas possessions in return for this help; and Philip Augustus is ready to give it. I have heard that he is offering John his daughter Adela in marriage and proposing to give her all Richard’s Continental lands.”
The Council was grave. They did not approve of the King’s absenting himself from his country. He was asking for trouble in doing so. But by now they knew something of John’s character, and the last thing they wanted was for him to usurp the throne. They agreed with me that it must be stopped. The best way to do this was to threaten to seize all John’s English lands the moment he attempted to cross the sea.
Sullen and angry, John knew he dared not leave the country. He went down to his castle of Wallingford to brood over the wrongs he had suffered.
But I knew this would not be the end of his endeavors. I had to be watchful all the time.
I did immediately dispatch a messenger to Richard telling him he must come home. His throne was in danger. We had foiled John once, but we might not be able to do it again. John was obstinate and he longed to get possession of the crown. He was unstable and cruel. It is sad to have to admit this of one’s son but it was true. I was glad that the barons were aware of it.
But we had a mighty enemy in the King of France. His love for Richard had turned sour, and there is never greater hatred than that which has grown out of an old love.
News came in now and then from the Holy Land. Richard was going from success to success. His name was continually mentioned. He was the hero of the Third Crusade. I was sure that it was he and his men, not Philip Augustus and the French, who had taken Acre.
There was talk of a mighty Saracen warrior who it was said was a match for Coeur de Lion. His name was Saladin. There were stories of a meeting between the leaders. Saladin was as outstanding among the Saracens as Richard among the Christians. It was certain that two such men would have the utmost respect for each other.
Richard’s illness persisted. There were bouts of ague and fever. I think they were his real enemies.
Richard and Saladin had come to a point when they must make terms, and Saladin’s brother wanted to marry Joanna. I was outraged at the thought; so, it seemed, was Joanna. But Richard apparently was so impressed by Saladin that it did not occur to him that the proposition was not acceptable. Why should not Christian and Saracen love each other rather than make war? Joanna might convert Malek Adel to Christianity. But what, I asked, if Malek Adel made a Moslem of Joanna?
Inevitably it came to nothing. I could imagine Joanna’s rage at the suggestion.
There had been a truce. Saladin would not surrender Jerusalem, but he allowed the Christians to make pilgrimages to the holy shrines when they wished, and he gave them a strip of the coast between Jaffa and Tyre so that they could travel unmolested.
Many of the crusaders went to Jerusalem and worshipped at the shrines. Richard did not go.
He was reputed to have begged the Lord not to let him set eyes on Jerusalem: he had set out to deliver the Holy City from the enemies of Christianity, and in this he had failed, so he should be denied a sight of it. He had made the way easier for pilgrims, but that was all his campaigning and tremendous expense had been able to achieve. His greatest enemy had been the ague and the fever, from which he suffered still; they had plagued him just when he should have been going into battle.
He respected Saladin, and Saladin respected him, but he had failed in his mission, and he could see there was no use in continuing. It was time to go home.
My relief was intense. So now he would come back and I could hand over the reins of government to him. I need not lie awake wondering what mischief was brewing in John’s mind.
I was an old woman. It was time I had a little rest.
I was planning that Richard should be home for Christmas. I was happy and excited. There should be minstrels and the music he loved. How I longed to see him again.
Berengaria would be with him. Was she pregnant? What joy there would be if she were!
I was very happy.
But Richard did not come home for Christmas.
The weeks passed and still he did not come. I began to realize that something was wrong.
Each day I waited for news. Tension was rising. I knew that John was biding his time. Where was Richard? Why did he not come back home? We had known that he was on his way, but why did he not come?
Something terrible had happened. It was frustrating to live in ignorance. He had just disappeared without trace.
I think that was the most agonizing period of my life. I had seen many tragedies, but this, wrapped in mystery as it was, seemed the hardest to bear.
I needed him. The country needed him. He must return soon or all England, all Normandy and his possessions in France would be thrown into confusion. The people were becoming restive. What sort of king was this to desert his country and go off to fight in other lands? And now the fighting was over, why did he not come home?
Joanna and Berengaria had arrived safely in Rome. They had sailed on the same day as Richard but not in his ship. I could glean nothing from them. They had not seen Richard since they left the Holy Land.
It was the same story whichever way I turned.
Richard had simply disappeared.
Then one day Richard’s chaplain, Anselm, arrived at Court. He had a tale to tell which threw a faint glimmer of light on the mystery. This was the story he told me.