poetry, and was a dreamer, whose heart's ambition was to attain military glory. Of magnificent figure, with the physique of a Hercules, and a courage that knew no fear, he was the beau ideal of romance, and the hero of some of the most marvellous adventures that have ever been related. Although King of England for ten years, he spent less than a year in that country. You have learned something of this remarkable knight of the olden time in our history of the Crusades, whither Richard went as one of the most valiant of the heroes who were determined to rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the Saracens.

Hardly had Richard taken the English crown in his strong hands and placed it upon his own head, when he hurried his preparations for a Crusade in conjunction with his friend Philip Augustus of France and the Emperor of Germany, their Crusade being third in point of time. Such expeditions demanded enormous sums of money, and Richard resorted to extreme means to obtain what he required. He compelled the Jews to make him loans, he sold earldoms, lands, and public offices, declaring that if he could find a purchaser he would sell London itself. It was at this time that the King of Scotland secured his freedom by the payment of ten thousand marks.

In the summer of 1190, Richard and the French King set out for the Holy Land. They had not gone far before they quarrelled, for Richard had a most disagreeable temper, and it was hard for any one to get on with him. It is said that in a wrangle with Leopold of Austria the English King delivered a kick which fairly lifted his astounded antagonist off the ground.

As you know, Richard failed in his attempt to capture Jerusalem. He forced a landing with his troops at Acre, and performed many heroic feats of individual valor; but the Sultan Saladin was greater than he. When these two were not fighting each other, they met like brothers, and held many talks and discussions over their respective civilizations. Each trusted fully the honor of the other. When King Richard fell desperately ill of a fever, which none of the English physicians could cure, legend says that Saladin asked the privilege of sending his own medical attendant to him. Some of the King's friends suspected treachery and objected, but Richard insisted, and the visitor was led into the English camp at night, and doctored his royal patient so successfully that Richard was soon himself again. Finally, almost broken-hearted over his failure to conquer the Mahometans, King Richard made a truce with Saladin, and set out to return to his own country.

When the King left England to go on his Crusade, his kingdom was ruled by his justiciars, the first of whom was the Chancellor William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely. He was honest and faithful to his sovereign, but, being a Frenchman, he hated the English just as intensely as they hated him. He was finally removed from office, and the King's brother John-a perfidious

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1001

wretch-was placed at the head of affairs. He began plotting with the King of France, and, as soon as Richard heard of it in Palestine, he started for home.

But the weeks and months passed and not a word came from the expected King. The only explanation was that he had met with death on the road. John was delighted, and lost no time in claiming the throne. Nevertheless, Richard was alive. Various stories have been told to account for his disappearance. His route compelled him to pass through Germany, and he tried to remain unknown, on account of his quarrel with Leopold, who would have been happy to punish him for the aggravating insult he had received at his hands, or rather his foot. The identity of Richard, however, was discovered, some say from the sight of a costly jewel on his finger, and others state that it was on account of the liberal supply of money displayed by his servant in buying food. Be that as it may, Richard was seized by Leopold and sold to the German Emperor Henry VI., who loaded him with irons and thrust him into a castle in the Tyrol. It was said that Blondel, a minstrel who had accompanied Richard to Palestine, set out on a wandering tour through Germany in search of his royal master, and at every castle he approached, sang one of the songs of which the King was fond. At the close of one of those weary days, when he was thus singing at the foot of a tower, he was thrilled by recognizing the voice of his master, who took up the next stanza and sang it through.

All this time, the unnatural brother John was conspiring with the French King, and urging the Emperor to keep Richard in prison, so that John might remain on the throne. But, after more than a year's imprisonment, Richard was set free in February, 1194, on condition of paying a ransom so prodigious that it took one-fourth of the personal property of all the noblemen and most of the jewels and silver plate of the churches. It was an outrageous price to pay for a King who certainly had never been worth a fraction of the sum to England.

When Richard came to his own, the only punishment he inflicted on his brother, who had so basely betrayed him, was to take away his lands and castles. In March, 1199, Richard quarrelled with the Viscount of Limoges over a treasure that had been discovered on the estate of the latter and was claimed by both. While the viscount's castle was being besieged, one of the defenders launched an arrow so well aimed that it pierced the shoulder of the King, who fell, mortally wounded. The castle was soon taken, and Richard ordered all the garrison to be hanged, but commanded that the crossbowman who had. given him his death-wound be brought before him. Looking reproachfully at the young man, the King demanded why he had shot him.

"You killed my father and two brothers," was the defiant reply; “I am

thankful that it was my privilege to kill you, and you may take what revenge you like."

The King was so struck by the words and daring of the youth, that he gave him his forgiveness and ordered him released. After Richard's death, however, the leader of the royal troops caused his assailant to be tortured to death.

You have learned of the great good that was brought to England and the Continent by the Crusades, themselves a series of the greatest follies in which a civilized people ever engaged. The Eastern civilization was far superior in many respects to the rough, uncultured civilization of the West. There were few Latin and no Greek scholars in England, whose people were compelled to admit that those whom they had looked upon as barbarians, were more learned and advanced in the arts and sciences than themselves. The Arabians had translated the classics into their own tongue, and from them England first learned of the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, as well as the elements of arithmetic, geometry, algebra, and astronomy. This infused new life into education, and helped the growth of the universities of Cambridge and Oxford. More important than all was the social and political revolution wrought by the Crusades. The people began to think, and to realize for the first time their wretched condition. King Richard had been obliged to grant charters to towns, and the nobles were compelled to confer similar privileges upon those under them. Immense estates were dissolved, and not only did the common people acquire new rights, but they acquired, at the same time, the spirit to defend and maintain those rights.

Still the civilization of England, as compared with that of later years, was crude and uncouth. An immense forest inclosed London, and the Tower, built by William the Conqueror, was filled with armed men to hold the inhabitants in subjection and to keep off enemies. At night, the streets were lighted by kettles of burning pitch which the watchmen carried on their rounds. When it became dark, the ringing of the curfew bell warned all the taverns to close. The greatest pleasures of the townspeople were bear-fights and bullbaiting. Nearly all were heavy drinkers, and quarrels and fighting were comOften, in the morning, several dead bodies in the alleys or narrow streets told of the affrays of the night before.

mon.

Richard, having no children, was succeeded by his brother John, one of the greatest scoundrels that ever cursed England by his rule. When Henry II. died he had left John dependent on his brothers, and in jest gave him the nickname of “Lackland," which clung to him through life.

Now, the elder brother Geoffrey had left a son named Arthur, and the inhabitants of Anjou, which belonged to the English kings from the time of Henry II., wished to have this boy, instead of his uncle John, as their ruler.