John Lackland. Kate Norgate
The officers of the late king’s household had hurried to meet his chosen heir, and now came to John demanding of him a solemn oath that he would carry into effect Richard’s last wishes, and maintain the customs of the Angevin lands. He took the oath, and they then acknowledged him as their lord in Richard’s stead.[242]
The most venerated of English bishops then living, Hugh of Lincoln, had officiated at Richard’s funeral and was still at Fontevraud. John sent an urgent request for his presence at Chinon, welcomed him there with a great show of attachment, and proposed that they should travel to England together. This Hugh declined, but he consented to accompany John for a few days on his journey northward. They set out at once for Saumur, and stopped at Fontevraud to visit the tombs of Henry and Richard. When John knocked at the choir-door for admittance, however, he was told that the abbess was away, and no visitor might enter without her leave. He then asked Hugh to communicate to the sisters, in his name, a promise of benefactions to their house, and a request for their prayers. “You know,” said Hugh, “that I detest all falsehood; I will utter no promises in your name unless I am assured that they will be fulfilled.” John swore that he would more than fulfil them; and the bishop did what he had been asked to do. As they left the church, John drew forth an amulet which hung round his neck and showed it to his companion, saying it had been given to one of his forefathers with a promise from Heaven that whosoever of his race had it in his possession should never lose the fulness of his ancestral dominion. Hugh bade him trust “not in that stone but in the Chief Corner Stone”; and turning round as they came out of the porch, over which was sculptured a representation of the Last Judgement, he led him towards the group on the left of the Judge, and besought him to take heed of the perils attending the responsibility of a ruler during his brief time upon earth. John dragged his monitor across to the other group, saying, “You should rather show me these, whose good example I purpose to follow!” During the three days of his journey in Hugh’s company, indeed, his affectation of piety and humility was so exaggerated that it seems to have rather quickened than allayed Hugh’s distrust of his good intentions.[243] On Easter Day the mask was suddenly dropped. Bishop and count spent the festival (April 18) at Beaufort,[244] probably as the guests of Richard’s widow, Berengaria. John was said to have never communicated since he had been of an age to please himself in such matters; and now all Hugh’s persuasions failed to bring him to the Holy Table. He did, however, attend the high mass on Easter Day, and at the offertory came up to Hugh—who was officiating—with some money in his hand; but instead of presenting the coins he stood looking at them and playing with them till Hugh asked him, “Why do you stand staring thus?” “I am staring at these gold pieces, and thinking that a few days ago, if I had had them, I should have put them not into your hands, but rather into my own purse; however, take them now.” The indignant bishop, “blushing vehemently in John’s stead,” drew back and bade him “throw into the bason what he held, and begone.” John obeyed. Hugh then followed up his rebuke with a sermon on the characters of a good and of a bad prince, and the future reward of each. John, liking neither the matter of the sermon nor its length, thrice attempted to cut it short by a message that he wanted his dinner; Hugh only preached the longer and the more pointedly, and took his leave of John on the following day.[245]
On that day John discovered that he was in a situation of imminent peril. While he had been travelling from the Breton border to Chinon and thence back to Beaufort, Philip had mastered the whole county of Evreux and overrun Maine as far as Le Mans; and a Breton force, with Constance and Arthur at its head, had marched straight upon Angers[246] and won it without striking a blow. City and castle were surrendered at once by Thomas of Furnes, a nephew of the seneschal Robert of Turnham;[247] and on Easter Day a great assembly of barons of Anjou, Touraine and Maine, as well as of Britanny, gave in their adhesion to Arthur as their liege lord and Richard’s lawful heir.[248] The forces thus gathered in the Angevin capital, from which Beaufort was only fifteen miles distant, must have been more than sufficient to overwhelm John, whose suite was evidently a very small one. His only chance was to make for Normandy with all possible speed. Hurrying away from Beaufort on Easter Monday, he reached Le Mans the same night; its citizens received him coldly, its garrison refused to support him, and it was only by slipping away before daybreak on Tuesday that he escaped being caught between two fires. On that very morning {April 20} the Bretons and their new allies entered Le Mans in triumph,[249] and they were soon met there by the French king, to whom Arthur did homage for the counties of Anjou, Touraine and Maine.[250]
Meanwhile, however, John had made his way to Rouen, and there he was safe. Richard on his death-bed had declared that the people of Rouen were the most loyal of all his subjects; they proved their loyalty to his memory by rallying round the successor whom he had chosen for himself, and all Normandy followed their example. “By the election of the nobles and the acclamation of the citizens,”[251] John was proclaimed duke of the Normans, and invested with the symbols of his dukedom in the metropolitan church on Low Sunday, April 25.[252] The ducal crown—a circlet of gold, with gold roses round the top—was placed on his head by Archbishop Walter, and the new-made duke swore before the clergy and people, on the holy Gospels and the relics of saints, that he would maintain inviolate the rights of the Church, do justice, establish good laws, and put down evil customs.[253] The archbishop then girded him with the sword of justice, and presented him with the lance which held among the insignia of a Norman duke the place that belongs to the sceptre among those of a king. A group of John’s familiar friends stood close behind him, audibly mocking at the solemn rites. He chose the moment when the lance was put into his hands to turn round and join in their mockery; and, as he turned, the lance slipped from his careless grasp and fell to the ground.[254]
In after years it was only natural that this incident should be recalled as an omen.[255] The indecent levity which had caused the mishap was in itself ominous enough. Still, however, the Marshal and the Norman and English primates—for Hubert of Canterbury, too, was at Rouen, and fully in accord with the policy of William and Walter—clave to their forlorn hope and persevered in their thankless task. In obedience to John’s orders, Hubert and William now returned to England to assist the justiciar, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, in securing the realm for him.[256] John himself turned southward again to try whether it were possible, now that he had the strength of Normandy at his back, to win the Angevin lands before he went over sea. No sooner had the French and the Bretons withdrawn from Anjou than it was overrun with fire and sword by Richard’s mercenaries, acting under the orders of their captain Mercadier and of Queen Eleanor, who had enlisted them in John’s interests as soon as they had had time to march up from Châlus to the Angevin border. John despatched a body of troops to join them, while he proceeded in person to Le Mans. There he wreaked his vengeance to the full. City and castle fell into his hands; he razed the castle, pulled down the city walls, destroyed the houses capable of defence, and flung the chief citizens into captivity.[257] But the danger in his rear was still too great to allow of his advance farther south. To throw the whole forces of Normandy upon the Angevin lands would have been to leave Normandy itself open to attack from two sides at once, and expose himself to have his own retreat cut off by a new junction between Philip