The confrontation of the two Kings took place at Gisors, under an elm tree. It was not the first time the Kings of France and England had met at this spot. The English, who had arrived first at the scene, took up the position in the shade, leaving the hot sun to the French.

I could imagine Henry seizing the smallest advantage gleefully.

Philip asked that the Princess Alais should be given to Richard as his wife and that fealty, throughout the English Court, should be sworn to Richard as the heir to Henry’s dominions.

Henry must have been astonished. It was as though it were Richard who was making the terms. He was in a quandary.

The King of France signed for Richard to come forward.

“Here is your son,” he said. “You will swear to these conditions before him.”

Henry hesitated and Richard went on: “Swear that I shall have my bride. Swear that I shall have the inheritance due to the eldest son.”

There was no way out for Henry. He was trapped. He glared with hatred at his son and began to shout: “No, no I will not do it.”

“So,” said Richard, “I see that what I have heard of you is true.”

He turned his back on his father and approaching the King of France, took off his sword and handed it to him.

In the presence of his father he was offering allegiance to Philip Augustus.

How joyfully the King of France accepted it. Henry could not believe it. How could his son go over so blatantly to the enemy? I could have answered that. “Because, my dear Henry, you have shown so clearly that you are his enemy.”

Philip Augustus, eyes shining with love and gratitude, said he would agree to a truce; the two Kings should meet in a month’s time. Meanwhile Henry could consider his terms.

“Come,” he said to Richard. He gave him back his sword. Richard mounted his horse, and the two of them rode off together.

So Henry had lost another son—if not to death this time, to the King of France.

He went to Saumur for Christmas. It must have been a gloomy one. He would hear reports of the great friendship which existed between Richard and the King of France. They were always in each other’s company and now were planning the crusade they would take together.

The two Kings met again as planned. Philip Augustus implied that he wished for peace because he wanted to give his mind to the proposed crusade. The Holy Land was in danger while they played out their petty quarrels. All he wanted was that Richard should have his bride and be proclaimed heir to his rightful inheritance. The marriage had long been arranged and Richard was Henry’s eldest living son. Philip Augustus was only asking for what was right. There was another point. It would be necessary for John to join the crusade. This was so that he could not be up to mischief while Richard was away.

Henry raged to William Marshal and Geoffrey the Bastard at the insolence of the King of France. They must have been very unhappy—those men who really cared for him.

Henry said he would not agree to the terms, and Alais was to marry John.

Once more the conference ended in failure.

John joined him. Henry was at Le Mans, one of his favorite cities because it contained the tomb of his father, and he had often rested there to visit it.

It was while he was at Le Mans that he heard that Philip Augustus was on his way to attack him. He had given him many chances and still he refused to see reason; so now the French were on the march and with them Henry’s own son, Richard.

“What have I done,” demanded Henry of William Marshal, “that my own son should march against me?”

William Marshal was one of those honest men who could not lie even if it meant saving their lives. “You have tried to rob him of his inheritance,” he said.

Henry must have smiled wryly. One could trust William Marshal to put a finger on the truth. He had tried to rob Richard of his rights because he wanted John, whom he believed to be his only faithful son, to have everything.

How tired he would have felt, how despondent. I never knew why, hating Henry as I did, I could feel sorry for him. The great raging lion, the invincible warrior. How did it feel to be brought to the stage when one’s aging body did not match one’s valiant spirit?

From a high point he would see the French camp and know that his son Richard was there with his enemy.

There was a high wind blowing straight into the French encampment. He had an idea. Fearing he might not be a match for the French and his son Richard, he would attempt other methods to win the battle. If he had fires lighted, the wind would blow them straight at the French camp and might destroy it completely. At worst it would do much harm and impede their advance. All means are fair in war.

He gave the order and the fires were lighted.

It was like a miracle. It was as though God was working on the side of the French against him. For no sooner were the fires lighted than the wind changed, and instead of blowing them into the French camp, they blew back to the town of Le Mans.

He could not believe it. The flames were enveloping the city. He cried out in anguish; then his rage overtook him. He shook his fist at the heavens. Such a disaster could only come from one place. God was against him. God had determined to destroy him.

William Marshal said it was an unusual change in the wind. Such things happened.

“It was deliberate,” shouted Henry. “It was done to plague me. It shows God is not on my side. I have prayed to Him ... worked for Him, and He has deserted me in my hour of need. By His eyes, I will pray no more. I will curse Him who curses me.”

His son Geoffrey was in fear of what would happen next. He implored his father not to blaspheme. They needed God’s help as never before.

“He has deserted me. I will plead with Him no more,” shouted Henry.

Geoffrey was greatly distressed. I think that must have comforted him a little. He had been good to Geoffrey, and Geoffrey had always adored him and had had that attitude toward him for which he had looked in vain from his legitimate sons.

Then came news that the French were preparing to advance. William Marshal urged him to mount his horse for they must retreat at once.

Henry, the great warrior in retreat! The humiliation must have been intolerable to him. Old, tired, sick, the only son left to him, John, about whom he must know he was deluding himself; and thebastard Geoffrey, of course, was the only one on whom he could rely.

Richard told me about an incident which occurred at that time.

Intending to parley with his father, Richard set out with a few men. Unarmed for combat and isolated from his party, suddenly he was halted by a man on a horse who had a lance which he pointed at Richard’s throat.

“It was too late for me to do anything,” said Richard. “He could have killed me. I knew the man. It was William Marshal. I said, ‘You are going to kill me, William Marshal. But see, I am unarmed.’ He paused for a moment, then he said: ‘No, I will not kill you. I will notbe the one to send you to the Devil.’ And with that he slew my horse from under me and rode off. I could only find my men and lead them back to the French camp, thus allowing my father to escape.”

I should always be grateful to William Marshal. I knew he was a good man. He might have considered it his duty to kill the King’s enemy, and Richard at that time was one.

Henry must have known that he was no match for the French. Le Mans was a burned-out town, burned out by his act which made it all the harder to bear. William Marshal and Geoffrey and the others discussed what they should do next. Marshal thought they should make for Normandy, where they would find men to rally to their banner. The King was too tired to make plans. He wanted to know where his son John was; he wanted to discuss with him what was the best thing for them to do.

John could not be found.

“He has gone off to find men to come to our aid,” said Henry. “Soon he will be with us. And then we shall be ready for the enemy when they come.”

There were messengers from the King of France. He wished to parley with Henry once more.

As usual Henry prevaricated. He felt ill and he looked it. I guessed he was too proud to be seen in such a state. No doubt he thought a few days’ rest would be beneficial.

He tried to delay, but Philip Augustus made it clear he would wait no longer. If Henry did not agree to a conference, it would be a matter of all-out war.

So he rode to the meeting. Richard told me about it afterward.

“The King could scarcely sit his horse. William Marshal and Geoffrey rode close to him one on either side. I think it was because they feared he would fall from his horse.”

Philip Augustus’s terms were that Henry must pay homage to him for his lands in France. He, Philip Augustus, and Richard were going on a crusade and as soon as they returned the marriage of Richard and Alais must take place. Richard must be proclaimed heir of all his father’s dominions, and Henry must pay for the cost of the war. If he did not adhere to these conditions, the knights and barons of England were to desert him and join Richard.

“My father was overcome with shame, but there was no alternative. It was either submit or become the prisoner of the King of France. Can you imagine my father a prisoner! He had to accept. The King of France was insistent. He gave me the kiss of peace before all assembled there. We embraced and as his face was close to mine I saw the hatred there. You know how he could not hide his feelings. His lips were close to my ear. He said, ‘I pray God I live long enough to take my revenge on you.’ I took no notice. I thought it better not. And then he went away.”