him for years. And secondly, your father will not even discuss it. We’ll be back where we started.’
‘But I get what I want, which is for the King to confirm me as his successor.’
Father Alun smiled benignly at his liege, as if he were a tutor pointing out the obvious to a not very clever pupil.
‘But, my Lord, the succession is yours by right anyway. The King’s confirmation doesn’t add anything to your claim!’
The Lionheart stared at Father Alun with a stunned expression on his face. The priest was right, of course, and the Duke had just realized it.
‘Very well, I concede. That’s why I want you at my elbow today.’
In the course of the negotiations, Father Alun was proved right.
While the Lionheart sat impassively, King Philip outlined the three points that he had secretly agreed with Duke Richard. King Henry listened politely until all the points had been made, then sat for a moment before fixing his gaze on the learned men of God to his left. He roared a torrent of abuse at them, at Philip and at Richard.
It ended with a closing tirade.
‘So you can take that back to the Pope in Rome and tell him to shove it up his holy arse!’
He then turned to his son and spoke to him in a hushed tone, but one laden with bile.
‘As for you, if you ever do another deal that insults your father with this little Capetian upstart from Paris, try to make your treachery a little less obvious!’
With that, King Henry pushed back his chair and stormed out of the gathering with his retinue scurrying in his wake.
Father Alun’s prediction had been accurate; Richard had been embarrassed by his father in front of the man he needed as an ally for the Crusade.
The boiling anger we had witnessed several times before in Richard began to rise. The next morning, the Duke bade farewell to the clerics and thanked them for their patience and understanding. He made his apologies to King Philip and then, before we had gone no more than five paces from Philip’s tent, he issued his orders.
‘We ride to Le Mans; I am going to make my father listen to me for a change.’
I felt compelled to advise him how dangerous such a plan might be.
‘Sire, we have only one conroi; Le Mans is heavily fortified. We would be like a mouse nibbling at a bear.’
‘Then send for the army! We ride within the hour.’
I did as I was bid and sent a messenger to Poitiers to mobilize the army and ride north. I considered pointing out to the Lionheart that the army was in training for Palestine, not for another Plantagenet squabble.
But I thought better of it.
All through the spring of 1189, we harassed the King across Maine and Normandy. He was not prepared to fight his son, nor to concede to him – even though he had only a single conroi of bodyguards. When our army finally arrived from the south, the Duke began to attack the King’s strongholds in the hope that it would force him to fight. We took Tours at the beginning of July, which gave us effective control of the whole of Maine and Normandy, and Philip Augustus joined us shortly afterwards to add to the pressure on the King.
Henry was at his ancestral home at Chinon; his condition had worsened, as had his prospects. He was unable to find any supporters who would come to his aid, all of whom realized that the Plantagenet Empire had reached a watershed in its history.
Eventually, we received a message that the King would meet us at Ballon to discuss terms. Ballon was nearby, only half a day’s ride north of Le Mans. Duke Richard and King Philip prepared for a gathering to settle – at least for the duration of the impending crusade – the ancient feud between the Capetians and the Plantagenets.
The King had chosen Ballon deliberately. It was only a small settlement. The local lord had a hall no bigger than a modest barn, and Henry wanted to be well away from prying eyes – especially from the high and mighty archbishops of his realm, the men he had insulted at La Ferte-Bernard in January.
Hugh of Ballon, an ageing but proud knight who had fought in the Second Great Crusade, and his villagers were in awe of the circumstances. Two kings and a duke who would soon be a king descended on them with all their regal paraphernalia, retainers and military escorts. Hugh had provided food and refreshments, which must have exhausted his stores for the entire year, and gave up his modest hall for the gathering.
When King Henry came in, he was in a sorry state. He needed help to walk and looked like half the man he had been in his prime. His eyes were sunken and the once notorious fire that smouldered in them had gone out.
Even though I was in the service of the Lionheart, I found what came to pass very sad. Duke Richard and King Philip had drawn up a set of draconian requests designed to humiliate the old King and strip him of his power. Father Alun had been unable to persuade them to be less harsh; they were in no mood to compromise. It was like watching an ageing stag being driven out from a mob of deer, facing a forlorn death deep in the forest.
Although it was a fait accompli rather than a negotiation, Father Alun was cast as mediator. The pained expression on his face was plain to see as he presided over the coup de grace. There was no haggling; King Henry agreed to everything that was asked of him. Within less than an hour, Father Alun stood and announced the details of the concord, which the scribes immediately began to commit to vellum.
Let it be known that on this day, 4 July 1189, in the County of Maine, that our Lord, Henry Plantagenet, King of England, Duke of Normandy, Count of Anjou, Count of Maine, Count of Nantes, Lord of Ireland, has agreed with his son, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Aquitaine, Duke of Gascony, and his friend, Philip Augustus Capet, King of the Franks, the following terms:
1. He will pay to the King of the Franks the sum of 20,000 marks.
2. In all things he will submit to the judgement of the King of the Franks.
3. The Princess Alyse will be handed to a guardian nominated by Duke Richard and that when he returns from the Holy Land he will take her hand in marriage.
4. The loyal subjects of King Henry, both here and in England, will swear their allegiance to Duke Richard.
5. The date for the muster for the new Great Crusade to the Holy Land will take place at the Abbey of Vezelay in Burgundy, where St Bernard of Clairvaux launched the Second Great Crusade, and is set for Lent in the year of Our Lord 1190.
Finally, it is acknowledged that should King Henry fail to abide by these terms, all his lords and subjects are to transfer their allegiance to Duke Richard and King Philip.
With the Lord as our witness, so be it.
There were several moments of stunned silence. The look on the face of Hugh of Ballon said it all. His small village had not only been visited by the three most powerful men in western Europe, but he had also witnessed two turning points in history. First, he had seen the humiliation of a man who had ruled the Plantagenet Empire with an iron fist for thirty-five years and the passing of that mantle to a new ruler. And second, he had heard the declaration of the launch of a third Great Crusade to the Holy Land.
King Henry, hunched and in pain, struggled to his feet. As he did so, the Lionheart approached him to receive the Kiss of Peace. The King gave the kiss, but with obvious detestation. When their cheeks met, the old warrior, in a thin, frail voice, whispered in his son’s ear.
‘God grant that I may not die until I have my revenge on you.’
Richard ignored the bile and helped the stewards take his father outside, where a litter stood waiting to take him back to Chinon.
Two days later, Henry was dead, a passing that had been made yet more melancholy by the news that his youngest son, John, had also deserted him.
England and the Plantagenet Empire would have a new King.
