The Heart of the Lion (46 page)

Longchamp wrote a letter to the King of Scots asking him if he would support Arthur of Brittany as heir to the throne of England in the event of Richard’s death without heirs. If he would, he would make a pact in Richard’s name, with the King of Scotland. This was the time for if it were known that Scotland supported Arthur that fact must influence a number of people below the Border and they would become accustomed to the idea that Arthur had the prior claim to the throne.

The messenger was sent off but on his way to Scotland he was waylaid and his papers stolen. John’s spies had caught up with him and it was not long before John was reading the message to the King of Scotland asking him to support Arthur’s claim.

John foamed with rage.

‘By God’s eyes and teeth,’ he cried, ‘I’ll kill the Norman with my own hands.’

The Archbishop of Rouen conferred with the Bishop of Lincoln and William the Marshal, that staunch supporter of royalty who had saved Henry II’s life when he had disarmed Richard and indeed had Richard at his mercy; he had spared Richard’s life and had expected to lose his own when Richard came to the throne; but Richard was wise enough to know a good and loyal man when he saw him and guessed that he would serve him as well as he had served his father. In this he had made no mistake.

The fact that the Archbishop of York had been arrested in the name of Longchamp and now he was unmasked as attempting to negotiate with a foreign power with regard to the succession of the throne of England had roused reasonable and worthy men such as the Marshal against him.

In a small chamber at Marlborough Castle these men gathered together with Prince John to discuss what must be done.

William the Marshal said: ‘We have to bear in mind that King Richard gave power to William of Longchamp. What he does, he does in the name of the King and therefore it seems we must act with caution.’

‘Even when he conspires against me?’ cried John.

‘My lord Prince,’ replied the Marshal, ‘it is a matter of his conspiring against the King.’ The Marshal was never one to mince his words. He would speak against the King himself but only in his presence; and he saw it might well be that Longchamp had had secret instructions from Richard to sound the King of Scotland about the succession of Arthur. The news was that he had made a pact with Tancred of Sicily and had offered Tancred’s daughter Arthur as a bridegroom, which was significant.

‘Am I not the King’s brother?’

‘You are,’ answered the Marshal. ‘None could dispute that.’

‘And heir, in the event of the King’s having no issue?’

‘Prince Arthur is the son of your elder brother Geoffrey. It will be a matter for your brother the King to decide.’

John scowled, but he realised how much weight the Marshal carried.

‘It would seem to me,’ said Hugh Nunant, who could always be relied on to support John, ‘that Longchamp has exceeded his powers in arresting Geoffrey of York.’

‘That is true indeed,’ said the Marshal, ‘but he has released him and declares the arrest was made without his knowing.’

‘A likely tale!’ cried John.

‘He released him immediately,’ the Marshal reminded him.

‘When he knew the people were against him and were talking of Becket.’

‘If we but knew the will of the King . . .’ began the Marshal.

Then the Archbishop of Rouen spoke. ‘There is a matter I must lay before you. The King having heard that all was not well in the realm and hearing of the unpopularity of Long-champ sent me to govern with him and if the occasion should arise to depose him and take the reins of Regency into my own hands. I can tell you this: There has been no instruction from the King to prepare the King of Scotland to accept Arthur as his heir. He is newly married. It seems likely that he will get a son of his own.’

‘If a Saracen’s arrow does not get him first,’ murmured John.

William Marshal cried: ‘Is this indeed so? Then my lord Archbishop of Rouen is our Regent and we can indeed proceed against Longchamp. The people have never accepted him gladly. He is unpopular. He has exceeded his powers. We will summon him to meet us at the bridge over the Lodden between Reading and Windsor and there we will ask him to give an account of his actions. Do you agree with this, my lord of Rouen?’

The Archbishop declared that he thought it the wisest way to act.

When Longchamp received the summons he was so terrified that he had to take to his bed. He was too ill, he said, to meet his accusers. It was an alarming discovery to realise that he was not merely facing John and his friends, for whom he had no great respect, but others such as the Archbishop of Rouen and William the Marshal; and the fact that the King had given such special powers to the Archbishop of Rouen was very disconcerting.

He could not evade the meeting entirely and promised to be at the Lodden Bridge the following day. Just as he was about to depart one of his servants came hurrying to him with the news that his enemies were marching on London where they intended to take possession of the Tower. So instead of going to Lodden Bridge, surrounded by his troops, he set out for London. On the road he encountered the soldiers of his enemies and there was a clash but Longchamp and his men managed to fight their way through and proceeded with all speed to London.

They reached the Tower and shut themselves in. He was, after all, Longchamp reminded those about him, custodian of the Tower of London in the King’s name.

For three days he remained in the Tower but could hold out no longer.

His enemies then forced him to give up the keys not only of the Tower but of Windsor Castle. There was no help for it; one false step now could cost him his life. He must get out of England, back to Normandy and there begin to reform his life. He was not to leave England was the order, until the castles had changed hands, but he was determined to get away.

The best method seemed to be to disguise himself as a woman; and this he did. A woman pedlar would attract little attention and the fact that she had goods to sell would be a reason for her travelling.

He set out with two of his faithful servants and counted himself fortunate to reach Dover without mishap. Afraid to go near any town or hamlet they slept under trees and by great good fortune when they reached Dover they found that a ship would shortly be sailing for France.

Longchamp, burying his face in his cape and cowering beneath the skirts and petticoats was congratulating himself that he would soon be able to discard them when a group of fishermen came by.

One among them cried: ‘But see what a fair wench this is! What is she doing sitting here alone? I would fain share her company.’

‘You will go away,’ said Longchamp in a muffled voice.

The fisherman nudged one of his companions. ‘What airs she gives herself, this saucy wench, and what sort of wench is she that travels the country so . . . selling her wares? What wares? Tell me that, wench. Pray don’t play the coy virgin with me for I’ll have none of it.’ He seized the hood and tried to pull it off. Longchamp clung to it in terror. But they were too many for him, for the three companions of the fisherman had joined with him. ‘Such a coy creature must be immediately relieved of her coyness.’ They would every one of them be her tutors.

They were tearing at his clothes. Any moment now and he would be revealed. He could have wept with dismay. Desperately he fought back, but they were too much for him.

‘Why ’tis no maiden then!’ cried the first fisherman. ‘Look you here, what we have. A man . . . in disguise!’

They had made such a noise that others had gathered to look and one of them cried: ‘I know that face. It cannot be!’

‘He has the look of a monkey.’

‘’Tis Longchamp the Norman.’

So the secret was out.

They set three men to guard him while someone went to the castle.

Within an hour he was taken there, a prisoner.

When John heard the story of the amorous fishermen he roared with laughter.

Poor Longchamp! In danger of being raped. And to have got so far and then to be discovered . . . and by a fisherman!

It was the height of indignity. He could picture the ungainly little man.

‘His just deserts,’ he declared. ‘Let him go to France. We have no further use for him here.’

And so at the end of October of that year 1191 Longchamp left England for France.

Chapter XVI

THE RETURN OF ELEANOR

M
eanwhile Philip had returned to France. He had done the wise thing in coming back, he was well aware, but it was necessary to justify himself and he lost no time in doing so.

He smiled cynically as he ruminated on the new state of affairs. How fickle were human relationships, particularly it seemed such as those which had existed between himself and Richard! He had loved Richard passionately when they were young and Richard had been his hostage; now all sorts of emotions had mingled to change that love into hatred. His feeling for Richard was as strong as it had ever been and always would be. Richard obsessed him. He kept going over in his mind how Richard had allied himself with Tancred. How he had been bemused – as Philip expressed it – by Saladin. Wherever Richard was there was drama and excitement and when he was absent life became less colourful. There was an aura about the King of England which attracted not only the King of France but everyone who came into contact with him. It seemed one must either hate him or love him.