It took a long time to raise all this money, and various embarra.s.sments were created in the course of the transaction by the emperor"s bad faith, for he changed his terms from time to time, demanding more and more as he found that the interest which the people of England took in the case would bear. At last, however, in February, 1194, about two years after Richard was first imprisoned, a sufficient sum arrived to make up the first payment, and Richard was set free.
After meeting with various adventures on his journey home, he arrived on the English coast about the middle of March.
The people of the country were filled with joy at hearing of his return, and they gave him a magnificent reception. One of the German barons who came home with him said, when he saw the enthusiasm of the people, that if the emperor had known how much interested in his fate the people of England were, he would not have let him off with so small a ransom.
John was, of course, in great terror when he heard that Richard was coming home. He abandoned every thing and fled to Normandy. Richard issued a decree that if he did not come back and give himself up within forty days, his estates should all be confiscated. John was thrown into a state of great perplexity by this, and did not know what to do.
As soon as Richard had arranged his affairs a little in England, he determined to be crowned again anew, as if his two years of captivity had broken the continuity of his reign. Accordingly, a new coronation was arranged, and it was celebrated, as the first one had been, with the greatest pomp and splendor.
After this Richard determined to proceed to Normandy, with a view of there making war upon Philip and punishing him for his treachery. On his landing in Normandy, John came to him in a most abject and submissive manner, and, throwing himself at his feet, begged his forgiveness. Eleanora joined him in the pet.i.tion. Richard said that, out of regard to his mother"s wishes, he would pardon him.
"And I hope," said he, "that I shall as easily forget the injuries he has done me as he will forget my forbearance in pardoning him."
Poor Berengaria was very illy rewarded for the devotion which she had manifested to her husband"s interests, and for the efforts she had made to secure his release. She had come home from Rome a short time before her husband arrived, but he, when he came, manifested no interest in rejoining her. Instead of that, he connected himself with a number of wicked a.s.sociates, both male and female, whom he had known before he went to the Holy Land, and lived a life of open profligacy with them, leaving Berengaria to pine in neglect, alone and forsaken.
She was almost heart-broken to be thus abandoned, and several of the princ.i.p.al ecclesiastics of the kingdom remonstrated very strongly with Richard for this wicked conduct. But these remonstrances were of no avail. Richard abandoned himself more and more to drunkenness and profligacy, until at length his character became truly infamous.
One day in 1195, when he was hunting in the forest of Normandy, he was met by a hermit, who boldly expostulated with him on account of the wickedness of his life. The hermit told him that, by the course he was pursuing, he was grievously offending G.o.d, and that, unless he stopped short in his course and repented of his sins, he was doomed to be brought very soon to a miserable end by a special judgment from heaven.
The king pretended not to pay much attention to this prophecy, but not long afterward he was suddenly seized with a severe illness, and then he became exceedingly alarmed. He sent for all the monks and priests within ten miles around to come to him, and began to confess his sins with apparently very deep compunction for them, and begged them to pray for G.o.d"s forgiveness. He promised them solemnly that, if G.o.d would spare his life, he would return to Berengaria, and thenceforth be a true and faithful husband to her as long as he lived.
He recovered from his sickness, and he so far kept the vows which he had made as to seek a reconciliation with Berengaria, and to live with her afterward, ostensibly at least, on good terms.
For three years after this Richard was engaged in wars with Philip chiefly on the frontiers between France and Normandy. At last, in the midst of this contest, he suddenly came to his death under circ.u.mstances of a remarkable character. He had heard that a peasant in the territory of one of his barons, named Videmar, in plowing in the field, had come upon a trap-door in the ground which covered and concealed the entrance to a cave, and that, on going down into the cave, he had found a number of golden statues, with vases full of diamonds, and other treasures, and that the whole had been taken out and carried to the Castle Chaluz, belonging to Videmar. Richard immediately proceeded to Videmar, and demanded that the treasures should be given up to him as the sovereign. Videmar replied that the rumor which had been spread was false; that nothing had been found but a pot of old Roman coins, which Richard was welcome to have, if he desired them. Richard replied that he did not believe that story; and that, unless Videmar delivered up the statues and jewels, he would storm the castle. Videmar repeated that he had no statues and jewels, and so Richard brought up his troops and opened the siege.
During the siege, a knight named Bertrand de Gordon, standing on the wall, and seeing Richard on the ground below in a position where he thought he could reach him with an arrow, drew his bow and took aim.
As he shot it he prayed to G.o.d to speed it well. The arrow struck Richard in the shoulder. In trying to draw it out they broke the shaft, thus leaving the barb in the wound. Richard was borne to his tent, and a surgeon was sent for to cut out the barb. This made the wound greater, and in a short time inflammation set in, mortification ensued, and death drew nigh. When he found that all was over with him, and that his end had come, he was overwhelmed with remorse, and he died at length in anguish and despair.
His death took place in the spring of 1199. He had reigned over England ten years, though not one of these years had he spent in that kingdom.
Berengaria lived afterward for thirty years.
King Richard the First is known in history as the lion-hearted, and well did he deserve the name. It is characteristic of the lion to be fierce, reckless, and cruel, intent only in pursuing the aims which his own lordly and impetuous appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions demand, without the least regard to any rights of others that he may trample under foot, or to the sufferings that he may inflict on the innocent and helpless. This was Richard"s character precisely, and he was proud of it. His glory consisted in his reckless and brutal ferocity. He pretended to be the champion and defender of the cause of Christ, but it is hardly possible to conceive of a character more completely antagonistic than his to the just, gentle, and forgiving spirit which the precepts of Jesus are calculated to form.
THE END.