Cassell's Illustrated History of England/Volume 1/Chapter 46
CHAPTER XLVI.
Accession of Richard I., Surnamed Cœur-de-Lion, a. d. 1159-Massacre of the Jews—The Third Crusade.
No sooner bad the monks of Fontevrault committed this body of Henry to the grave, than Richard assumed the sovereign authority, and his first acts were marked with all that energy and determination which afterwards distinguished him. He at once gave orders that the person of Stephen of Tours, seneschal of Anjou, and treasurer of Henry, should be seized. This functionary was thrown into a dungeon, where be was confined with irons on his feet and hands, until he had given up to the new king, not only all the treasures of the crown, but also his own property. Richard then called to his councils the advisers of his father, and discarded all those men who had supported his own rebellion, not excepting even his most familiar friends. This policy, which has been attributed by some historians to the repentance of Richard, was more probably the result of profound calculation, and was based upon sound reasoning. The men who were ready to plot against one monarch, when occasion served, or offence was given; while those who had supported the reigning dynasty were the men upon whom the new king might most safely depend.
Messengers were immediately sent to England commanding the release of the Queen Eleanor. On quitting of her prison she was temporarily invested with the office of regent, and during the short period of authority which she thus obtained, she occupied herself in works of mercy and benevolence. The long imprisonment she had undergone appeared to have softened her imperious temper; she listened readily to those who had complaints to lay before her, and pardoned many offenders against the crown.
Richard causing the Gold and Jewels to be weighed in his presence.
Having proceeded to Winchester, where she took possession of the royal treasures, she summoned a great assembly of the barons and ecclesiastics of the country to receive the new monarch and tender him their allegiance. After a delay of two months, Richard crossed the channel, accompanied by his brother John, and landed at Portsmouth. On his arrival at Winchester he caused the gold and jewels of the crown to be weighed in his presence, and an inventory made of them. A similar course was pursued in the cities in which treasures of the late king had been deposited. Richard was absorbed in the project of a grand expedition to the Holy Land, which should reduce the infidel to permanent submission, and place himself on the highest pinnacle of military renown. To this circumstance we may in some degree attribute the fact that the ambitious John permitted his brother to succeed to the throne without any attempt to dispute his right. John probably calculated that in the king's absence the actual sovereignty would devolve upon himself, and that the impetuous Richard might never return from the dangers of the holy war. Apart from these considerations, however, it is doubtful whether the weak temper of John would have permitted him to rebel openly against his powerful and energetic brother.
On the 3rd of September, Richard was crowned at Westminster, and the ceremonial was conducted with great pomp and splendour. The procession along the aisles of the cathedral was headed by the Earl of Albemarle, who carried the crown. Over the head of Richard was a silken canopy, supported by four lances, each of which was held by one of the great barons of the kingdom. The Bishops of Bath and Durham walked beside the king, whose path to the altar was spread with a rich carpet of Tyrian purple. The ceremony was performed by Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Richard took the customary oath to fear God and execute justice. The cloak, or upper clothing, of the king was then taken off, sandals of gold were placed upon his feet, and he was anointed with oil upon the head, breast, and shoulders; afterwards receiving the insignia of his rank from the state officers in attendance. Richard was then led to the altar, where he renewed the vows he had taken; and, lifting with his own hands the crown from off the altar, which he did in token that he received it from God alone, he gave it to the archbishop, who placed it upon his head.
Crown of the 12th Century.
From the Tomb of Richard, at Fontevrault.
The day of the new king's coronation was marked by an event which resulted in an attack upon all the Jews assembled in the city, who were barbarously murdered with their wives and children. In the Middle Ages, while the science of finance was in its infancy, and men had not yet learned to associate together for purposes of trade, the Jews were the principal, if not the only, bankers of Christendom. There were no laws in existence to regulate the interest of money, and their profits were frequently enormous. The wealth which they thus obtained, no less than the obnoxious faith to which they firmly adhered, caused them to become objects of hatred to the people; and this feeling was increased at the date of the new crusade, in consequence of the increased rate of interest they demanded from men who were about to risk their lives in that dangerous journey. During the reign of Henry II. the Jews had enjoyed some degree of protection, and had, accordingly, increased in numbers and wealth. In France, they were less fortunate. On the accession of Philip II. he had issued an edict ordering the banishment of all the Jews from the kingdom, and the confiscation of their property. Hated by the people, the persecuted race had no other hope than in the favour of the prince, and, fearing that Richard might be disposed to follow the example of his ally, the King of France, they determined to secure his protection by presents of great value.
At the coronation of Richard, the chief men of the Jewish race proceeded to Westminster to lay their offerings at his feet. Being apprised of their intention, Richard, who is said to have feared some evil influence[1] from their presence, issued a proclamation, forbidding Jews and women to be present at Westminster on that day, either in the church, where he was to receive the crown, or in the hall, where he was to take dinner. Some of the Jews, however, trusting that the object of their errand would excuse the breach of the royal command, attempted to enter the church among the crowd, and were attacked and beaten by the king's servants. A report was then rapidly circulated among the multitude outside, that the king had delivered up the unbelievers to the vengeance of the people. Headed by some of the lower class of knights and nobles, who were not sorry to get rid of men to whom they owed large sums of money, the crowd surrounded the unhappy Jews, and drove them along the streets with staves and stones, killing many of them before they could reach the doors of their houses. At night the excitement spread throughout the town, and the populace attacked the dwellings of the hated race in every direction. These being strongly barricaded from within, were set on fire by the mob, and all the inmates who were not destroyed in the flames, and who attempted to escape by the doors, were received on the swords of their adversaries.
Statue of Richard I.
in the Choir of York Cathedral.
At the commencement of the riot, the king made some attempt to appease it, by sending the justiciary of the kingdom, Ranulph de Glanville, with other officers, to interpose their authority. They, however, were compelled to fly for their lives, and returned to the king, who seems to have had little real concern about the matter. While the work of carnage was proceeding, he remained seated at the banquet, and he afterwards took no steps to punish the murderers. He, however, issued a proclamation, in which he declared the Jews to be under the protection of the crown, and forbade any man to molest or plunder them.
Allusion has already been made to the expedition known as the Second Crusade, which was headed by Louis VII. of France and the Emperor Conrad of Germany. Although 200,000 persons perished in this crusade, it is by no means to be ranked in importance with those which preceded and followed it. Although preached with all the zeal of the celebrated St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, who was noted equally for eloquence and piety, its acceptance was confined to France and Germany, and it took the character of a great military expedition rather than of a popular movement. The result of the expedition was disastrous, and the princes returned to England with only the scattered remnant of their noble army. The events of this crusade being in themselves comparatively unimportant, and having only an indirect connection with English history, it has not been considered necessary to relate them in detail. The state of affairs in the East, which induced the kings of France and England to determine upon a third crusade, has been referred to in a preceding chapter.
To raise money for the expedition to Palestine, Richard adopted a policy similar to that which, in the reign of Stephen, had so greatly reduced the revenues of the state. He publicly sold the estates of the crown to the highest bidder—towns, castles, and domains. Many rich Normans of low birth thus became possessed of lands which, at the time of the Conquest, had been distributed among the immediate followers of William; and many men of Saxon race availed themselves of the opportunity to recover the houses of their fathers, and, under a quit rent, became the lawful owners of their places of abode. The towns which concluded these bargains became corporations, and were organised under a municipal government. In the reigns of Richard I. and his successors many of these conventions took place, by which the cities of England gradually redeemed themselves from the condition into which they had fallen at the Norman Conquest.[2] In these transactions Richard appears to have been influenced solely by his determination to obtain money; and when some of his courtiers ventured to remonstrate with him, he said that he would sell London itself, if he could find a buyer.[3]
Titles and offices of state were also sold without scruple. Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, purchased the earldom of Northumberland, and also obtained, for a payment of 1,000 marks, the chief justiciarship of the kingdom. It has been already related that, at the time of Richard's accession, this office was held by Ranulph de Glanville, a man of great ability and undoubted probity. One account tells us that Glanville resigned the office for the purpose of joining the crusade; but other historians relate that he was driven from it by the king, who was wiling to obtain money even by the disgrace of an old and valuable servant of the crown. Vacant ecclesiastical benefices were filled up by the appointment of those who could best afford to pay for them. In addition to the sums raised by these measures, Richard obtained 20,000 marks from the King of Scotland, who in return was released from the obligation of servitude to the English crown.
While Richard thus appeared to be making every preparation for the expedition to the Holy Land, he showed no hurry to leave his new kingdom; and Philip of France, with whom he had engaged to join his forces, sent ambassadors to England to announce his intention to depart at the ensuing Easter. Richard then convoked an assembly of the nobles of the kingdom, and declared his intention to proceed to the Holy Land in company with his brother of France. He placed the regency in the hands of William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham; the former of whom succeeded, not long afterwards, in securing the entire authority into his own hands. Prince John was thus deprived of the position which he had calculated would fall to him, and he received, by way of compensation, a pension of 4,000 marks, the territory of Mortaigne in Normandy, and the earldoms of Derby, Nottingham, Gloucester, Somerset, and Lancaster in England. These estates comprised a third part of the kingdom.
Early in the following year (1190) Richard crossed the Channel into Normandy, and soon afterwards a meeting took place between the two kings of France and England, at which they bound themselves to a compact of brotherhood and alliance, each swearing to maintain the life and honour of the other as he would his own. The death of the young Queen of France caused a delay in the departure of the expedition, and it was not until Midsummer that the armies of the two kings assembled for that purpose. The allied forces are said to have numbered 100,000, and having been united on the plains of Vezelai, they marched in company to Lyons. At this point the two kings separated. Philip, who possessed no fleet or seaport town on the Mediterranean, proceeded by land to Genoa, that powerful republic having agreed to furnish a fleet of transports for the convoy of his troops.
Richard was in possession of the powerful fleet built by his father for the voyage to Palestine, as well as of trading vessels which he had himself selected from different seaports, and he, therefore, had no need to make the journey across the Alps. He proceeded from Lyons to Marseilles, where he proposed to embark.
Shield of a Templar.
The fleet, however, had not arrived when the king reached the coast. On leaving England the ships were placed under the care of two bishops and three knights, who received the title of constables. In crossing the Bay of Biscay, they encountered a violent storm, which caused them considerable damage, and at length compelled them to put into the Tagus, where they arrived successively. The King of Portugal was then at war with the Moors, and having obtained the assistance of a body of the Crusaders, he compelled the enemy to retreat. The king, however, soon had reason to dread the presence of his friends almost as much as that of his enemies. The soldiers of the fleet landed at Lisbon, where they indulged, in their customary manner, in plunder and licentiousness. The inhabitants took up arms for the defence of their wives and property, and various encounters, attended with bloodshed, occurred between them and the Crusaders. Sancho, the reigning king, then closed the gates of the town, and made prisoners such of the Crusaders as were within the walls. The English retaliated by seizing any of the Portuguese who came in their way. An agreement was then entered into, by which hostilities were suspended, the prisoners were released, and the Crusaders set sail from Lisbon. The fleet, which now numbered more than one hundred sail, arrived in four weeks at Marseilles, whither it proceeded to Messina.
View of part of the Town of Genoa. From an ancient Engraving.
Meanwhile Richard, whose impetuous nature could ill endure delay, had hired a number of vessels at Marseilles, in which he embarked a body of his troops; and after visiting Genoa, where he met the King of France, he arrived at Naples. It would appear that Cœur-de-Lion was at this time not without some sort of religious feeling, since it is recorded that, during his stay at Naples, he paid a, voluntary act of devotion to the patron saint of that city. Having visited the sanctuary of St. Januirius, he entered a crypt, and told his orisons, surrounded by the bodies of the dead, which were arranged in niches around the walls. Those ghastly figures, dry and shrivelled, were arrayed in their usual dresses, and in the deep gloom of the crypt, appeared as if they were alive.
After having made an excursion through the surrounding neighbourhood, Richard arrived on the shore of the narrow strait which divides Sicily from Calabria, whence he was conveyed to the harbour of Messina. The French king had already arrived, and soon afterwards set sail with the view of continuing his voyage to the East. His ships, however, experienced bad weather, which compelled them to return to the port, and the two kings then arranged to remain there during the winter.
Medals of William I. or William II. of Sicily.
The island of Sicily, which in the preceding century had been conquered by the Norman lords of Apulia and Calabria, then formed, together with a part of lower Italy, a kingdom which was under the control of the Holy See. Not many years before, under the reign of William I., the country had been in a prosperous condition, but now it was weakened by internal dissensions and in no position to offer a successful defence to attacks from without. William II., surnamed the Good, had married Richard's sister Joan, who bore to him no children. Anxious to preserve the succession to his family, he caused his aunt, the Princess Constance, who was the only legitimate member of the family, to be married to Henry, son and heir of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. By securing to her a powerful husband, able to support her claims, the king trusted to overcome that opposition to a female sovereign which was likely to be even greater in Sicily than in other countries of Europe. Constance, at the age of thirty-two, was considerably older than her husband; but her dower was rich, and this, joined to the prospect of the succession, proved attraction sufficient for the young prince. He married her in the year 1186, at Milan. In November, 1189, William the Good died, appointing by his will that his aunt Constance should be his successor. The barons of the kingdom had previously taken an oath of fealty to the princess, but that oath, as well as the will of the king, was entirely disregarded. The nobles were necessarily indisposed to submit to the rule of a foreign prince, and the aggressions of the German emperors in the north of Italy had given good cause for dread of any further increase of their power. Constance and Henry were also out of the country at this critical moment, and the barons, after various disputes among themselves, conferred the crown upon Tancred, Count of Lece, cousin to William the Good, though reputed to be illegitimate by birth. The new king was hailed by the people with acclamation, and was acknowledged by the Pope, Clement II., who sent him the customary benediction. His reign, however, had no sooner commenced, than various conspiracies were formed against him by the barons who had been competitors for the throne, and though he had succeeded in reducing these to submission, he was threatened by Henry, who had now become emperor, and who war preparing a powerful army to support the claims of his wife Constance.
Such was the position of affairs in Sicily at the time of the arrival of the kings of England and of France. Both monarchs were received by Tancred with every token of honour and hospitality; Philip was entertained within the Willis of the city, and Richard took up his quarters in a house without the walls, situated in the midst of a vineyard. On one occasion, when Richard was making an excursion in the neighbourhood of Messina, attended by a single knight, he passed through a village, in which he saw a hawk standing before a cottager's door. According to the laws of the European kings, it was forbidden to yeomen and townspeople to keep that noble bird, which was considered the exclusive property of the great. Richard, with his accustomed carelessness of consequences, took up the poor man's hawk, and carried it away on his wrist. The Sicilian peasant, though under the rule of a Norman conqueror, had not yet learned submission to such treatment as this. Joined by some of his friends, he followed the king, and drawing his knife, attacked him. Richard drew his sword, and for a while he kept the peasants at bay; but the sword broke in his hand, and he was compelled to take to flight. The enraged villagers pursued him closely with sticks and stones, and probably the life of Cœur-de-Lion was saved by his reaching the gates of a priory, in which he took shelter.
Falcons
Flaco sacerFalco palumberiusFalco nivers
After having remained for a very brief period in tranquillity, Richard found in the position of his sister Joan a cause of quarrel with the King of Sicily. At the time of the marriage of that princess with William the Good, a splendid dower had been given to her by her husband, including many towns and cities, and territory of considerable extent. When Tancred ascended the throne, he withheld these broad lands, part of which, however, were occupied by nobles who were in rebellion, and which, therefore, it would not have been easy to deliver up. Richard first demanded that his sister should be sent to him, and when the request was complied with, he sent other messengers requiring the whole of her dower. Without waiting for an answer, the impetuous prince passed over to the Calabrian shore, and seized possession of the castle of Bagnara. Here he left his sister, defended by a body of troops, and returned to Messina. On the borders of the strait, overlooking the English camp, there was a convent of Greek monks, having a strong natural ' position, and capable of being easily fortified. Richard I drove out the monks, and placed in their stead a strong I garrison, who turned the monastery into a fortress, and issued thence on licentious excursions through the town and the neighbourhood. The disorders of the foreigners at length aroused the indignation of the Sicilians, who, jealous of the honour of their wives and daughters, suddenly attacked the English, who were in the city, and at the same time closed the gates of the town. The whole camp speedily took to arms, and assembled without the walls, making a reckless and unorganised assault upon them. Richard having received news of the tumult, mounted his horse and rode hastily among his soldiers, beating them back with a truncheon which he carried in his hand. By exertions of this kind, joined to the influence of his character, he succeeded in restraining his troops, not, however, before some animosities which had arisen between them and the French soldiers had found vent in several partial combats. The kings of France and England held a solemn meeting, at which to arrange against future differences of this kind, as well as to determine upon a peace with the Sicdians. On the hill overlooking a camp a number of the natives were assembled, and, during the conference, they attacked a few stragglers from the Norman camp. Having learnt the cause of the uproar, Richard immediately called his men to arms, drove the Sicilians from the hill, and followed them to the walls of the city, which the English now attacked under the direction of their prince. The troops of Tancred made little resistance against their impetuous assailants; the town was carried by storm, and Richard raised his banner on the walls as though the town had become exclusively his. The jealousy of Philip was excited, and a rupture took place between the two princes, which was only appeased by the town being given into the hands of the Knights Hospitallers and Knights Templars, who were to hold possession of it until the claims of Richard against Tancred had been finally adjusted.
Richard Cœur-de-Lion before the Shrine of St. Januarius.
(See page 214)
In addition to the territories assigned to Joan as a dowry, she was entitled, as Queen of Sicily, to a golden table, twelve feet long, and a foot and a half broad; a golden chair; two golden tressels for supporting the table, twenty-four silver cups, and as many silver dishes. William the Good had left in his will to Henry II. a contribution towards the Holy War in which that prince was proposing to engage. This legacy consisted of a tent of silk to accommodate 200 persons seated, 60,000 measures of wheat, and 60,000 of barley, with 100 armed galleys, equipped and provisioned for two years. Henry II. died before his son-in-law, and, therefore, Richard could prefer no legal claim in right of his father. He nevertheless demanded that all these things should be given up to him, as well as the treasures to which his sister was entitled. An agreement was ultimately entered into, by which a sum of 20,000 gold oncie was paid to Joan, and a further sum of 20,000 oncie to Richard, in satisfaction of their several demands. The legality of Richard's claim was not acknowledged, but the money was paid to him ostensibly on a treaty of marriage, which was concluded between his young nephew Arthur and an infant daughter of Tancred. The payment thus took the form of a dower, and was to be returned in case either of the children died before they reached a marriageable age.
Isaac of Cyprus praying Cœur-de-Lion for the restoration of his Daughter. (See page 220.)
The money of which Richard thus became possessed was lavished with the utmost prodigality. His tastes were magnificent; and the extraordinary fame which he had acquired throughout Europe was due no less to his own gigantic strength and brilliant valour than to the glittering halo of romance which surrounded him, and the splendour with which he dazzled the eyes of his followers. Soldiers of fortune of every country came to offer their swords to Cœur-de-Lion, and were received with welcome and entertainment. Tournaments and spectacles of various kinds succeeded each other; the sounds of mirth and music resounded through the camps; troubadours and jongleurs offered their feats of skill, or songs of war and beauty, secure of a liberal reward. Relying upon his strong arm to replenish his coffers, Richard showered gifts and largesses upon all comers; and, at a great banquet which he gave to the knights of both armies, he sent away each of his guests with a large present of money. Thus, throughout the winter, the soldiers of the north gave themselves up to luxury and pleasure under the sunny sky of Sicily. But Cœur-de-Lion was no mere voluptuary. If, in many respects, he bore a resemblance to the gallant but ill-fated Robert of Normandy, he possessed, at the same time, a degree of intellectual power and energy little inferior to that of William the Conqueror. Amidst the glare of rich banquets and gorgeous spectacles, amidst the tinkling of harps whose strings were attuned to flattery, and the glances of bright eyes, which brought their tribute of admiration to the young prince of the Lion Heart, his ardent nature languished and longed for activity. There was a strong impulsive force within the men of those days, which rendered exertion the only pleasure—ease and rest a punishment not to be endured. Cut off for a time from the excitements of battle, Richard sought occupation in the field of theological controversy and the exercises of religion.
At this time a certain Calabrian monk, named Joachim, Abbot of Curacio, had made himself famous throughout Europe by his writings and preachings against the abuses of the court of Rome. We have already seen how, at intervals during the Middle Ages, some sandalled monk would rise up from obscurity, and, by the mere force of intellect, with no advantages of outward circumstances, would obtain a power over the minds of men, compared to which that of princes was as nothing. This influence was of a purely personal nature, and was attained by the gift of eloquence. The books which Abbot Joachim had written would have availed little—they appealed only to the few who could read them, and to posterity—but the man could speak his thought in the ear of the present. We know little, in these later times, of the meaning of the word eloquence—we apply it to what is written—to thoughts expressed upon inanimate paper—dull and lifeless, as words from the mouth of a statue. The growth of civilisation is unfavourable to eloquence, for civilisation is built up of laws and customs, and the language of the heart defies all law, and pays no deference to expediency. The modern teacher dares not trust his heart. Sermons are written, speeches are prepared, periods carefully rounded, sentiments weighed in the nicest balance—even the tone of the voice, and the motion of the arm—are studied beforehand under a master. The influence attained is exactly commensurate with the means employed, and the listeners find themselves on a level of caution, equally removed from danger on the one hand, or of excellence on the other. But such a level is not the normal condition of the human mind. When, at rare intervals, the torch of enthusiasm is lighted by some earnest man, thousands will burst away to follow the flame, though it lead them to utter destruction. If, in our own day, we have seen many of the intelligent people of this country quitting their homes to seek a Utopia of sensualism among the wilds of the far West—if we have seen them listening to evil counsel, warmly urged, while the voice of the minister of religion fell unheeded on their ears, as that of a paid advocate of virtue—we may understand the influence exercised in earlier times by those whose eloquence derived new force and authority from their sacred calling.
Richard Cœur-de-Lion, like his ancestors, recognised that subtle force of intellect whose influence among men surpassed that of laws or armies. He heard of the fame of the Abbot Joachim, and desired to see him. The king and the monk met together at Messina, where a long theological discussion took place between these strange disputants. Joachim, like all the other clergy of the age, gave his authority in favour of the Crusade. He assumed the gift of inspiration, and, like a prophet of old, told the king to go forth and conquer: the infidel should be scattered before the Christian host, and the banner of the cross be raised once more over the walls of Jerusalem. Those were but the ravings of fanaticism, and were utterly falsified by the event; but their influence, meanwhile, was none the less upon those who listened and regarded the speaker as a prophet. Richard's mind was of higher order, and he is said to have called the monk a vain babbler, whose words were unworthy of attention. It is not probable, however that he expressed such an opinion publicly, for he could not be insensible to the effect of such predictions upon the minds of his soldiers.
Not long after this discussion, Richard rode to the town of Catania, where he had appointed to meet Tancred for the first time. With all the state and magnificence suited to the occasion, the two kings walked in procession to the church, where, forgetting all former differences, they took vows of mutual friendship, and performed their devotions together before the shrine of St. Agatha. On the return of Cœur-de-Lion to Messina, the Sicilian king accompanied him for many miles, and at the moment of parting gave into his hands a letter written by Philip of France, in which Philip proposed to ally himself with Tancred, and to drive the English monarch out of the country.
Some days elapsed before Richard made any use of this communication; but he met Philip with haughtiness and reserve, and frequent disputes took place between them. At length, during one of these altercations, Cœur-de-Lion suddenly produced the letter, and asked whether he know the handwriting. Philip indignantly declared it to be a forgery, and accused Richard of seeking a cause of quarrel, by which means he might break out his contract of marriage with the Princess Alice, Philip's sister. Richard replied calmly that he could not marry the lady Alice, since it was well known that she had born a son to his father, King Henry. This circumstance, if true, was well known to Richard during his father's lifetime, when he had so frequently demanded that his bride should be given up to him—a request which, it is evident, had merely been made as a pretext for rebellion. Richard now offered proofs of what he had alleged, and, whatever may have been the force of these proofs, Philip consented to give up the contest. In the days of chivalry, as now, money was accepted in compensation for breaches of such contracts, and Philip sold the honour of his sister for an annual pension of 2,000 marks for five years. For this sum he gave Richard permission to marry whoever he pleased.[4]
Cœur-de-Lion had already chosen his bride. Some three years before, while staying at the court of Navarre, he had fallen in love with Berengaria, the daughter of the king of that country. The young princess is described as having been very beautiful, of extremely youthful and delicate appearance, presenting in every respect the most striking contrast to the robust frame and gigantic presence of her lover. Their passion seems to have been more romantic and sincere than usually happens in similar cases. It is certain that Richard asked for no dowry with his bride, sought for no political advantages, but merely dispatched his mother. Queen Eleanor, to ask the lady's hand. Such conduct alone might have won the heart of Berengaria, even though she had not been already interested in his favour. Undeterred by the dangers and difficulties of the journey across the Alps, she at once sot out to join her intended husband. The queen and the princess travelled with a suitable escort, and reached Naples in safety. Thence they passed on to the city of Brindisi, where they waited until the French king should have departed to the Holy Land.