The Prince of Darkness (47 page)

Innocent had been made aware of the situation in England. The barons were ready to revolt and if England were allowed to go on much longer under the Interdict with an excommunicated king the wrath of Rome would appear to lose its power. He could not allow the situation to continue so he summoned Stephen Langton, in his eyes Archbishop of Canterbury, and told him that he wished him to go at once to the King of France.

‘John cannot any longer be allowed to reign in England,’ he said. ‘I intend to depose him and I am going to ask the King of France to help me to this end. I know full well that he will be eager to do so.’

Stephen Langton was surprised, for he did not think Innocent wanted to add to Philip’s power, but he saw the Pope’s point of view. John was insolently snapping his fingers at Rome by continuing to accept the Interdict and his excommunication as though they were of little importance to him and making no effort to get them removed.

The Archbishop set out for Paris and no sooner had he left than John’s embassy arrived in Rome with urgent messages from John to the Pope, proclaiming that he would accept Stephen Langton. As a result of this Stephen was hastily recalled to Rome. The Pope now declared his willingness to withdraw the threat to depose John if he ratified his promises.

Philip, meanwhile, had assembled an army with a fleet of ships ready to carry it to England. He was determined to invade and since John was clearly unfit to wear the crown, to take it for himself. No French monarch had ever ruled over England. He had fulfilled his ambition of recapturing Normandy. He had had other successes, but to capture England would make him honoured for ever as a hero, as William the Conqueror had been.

It was amazing how people rallied to John’s banner. Those who had been chary of joining him to fight across the seas felt very differently about their own country. If the French were waiting to attack they would find the English ready for them. They would never accept the French King as theirs. They preferred English John for all his faults. He was able to assemble a good fleet of ships. The Cinque Ports had been true to their promises. The whole country was rallying to John’s banners and he had not felt so confident for a long time.

Instead of the French the Pope’s legate arrived at Dover. He had come hot from Rome with special despatches for the King of England.

The papal legate was Pandulph, a Roman, who had become a clerk of Innocent’s Papal Court and he was accompanied by a Knight of St John named Brother Durandus. John had met them both on a previous occasion when they had come on the
Pope’s business and this time he received them with more warmth than he had previously.

John had discussed with the Marshal the terms which the Pope might be expected to offer and it was William’s advice that it would be wise to accept them even though they might appear somewhat drastic.

In the Marshal’s opinion the barons could not be trusted and although they had rallied to John’s banner at the prospect of a French invasion they were at heart weary of John’s rule and if they felt that it would be better under Philip’s they might decide to change sides. To see the army gathered together, to see the ships ready to fight against those of the French, was a goodly sight. But the Marshal knew the extent of John’s unpopularity and he did not trust those who had assembled to help him. For this reason, it seemed to him that John must if possible make peace with the Pope.

Pandulph’s first words indicated to John how important it was for him to make peace with Rome.

‘On my way to you,’ Pandulph told him, ‘I passed through France and sought an audience with its King. In the name of the Pope I forbade him to attempt the invasion of England until after I had seen you. Much will depend on your attitude now. If you accept the Pope’s terms there will be no French invasion, for the Holy See will not permit it and the King of France would not dare undertake such a hazardous operation in which God would be against him since he has been forbidden by Rome.’

John said: ‘I would know your terms.’

The Marshal had been right when he had said the terms would be harsh. There could be none harsher, for the Pope insisted that John surrender his crown to the Pope who would
then return it to him creating him a fief of the Holy See. The King of England would become the Pope’s vassal.

The Pope’s vassal! How low had he fallen. What would great William the Conqueror say if he was watching from Heaven at this time? The land which he had won and held at great sacrifice to be passed over to Rome and its King become a vassal!

It was a bitter anger which possessed John – not the violent rage which he knew so well. In this anger was sadness – that this state of affairs should have come to pass.

The whole world is against me, he thought.

‘If you do not agree,’ said Pandulph, ‘His Holiness will give Philip permission to invade. He has a mighty army assembled on the other side of the water. The Pope will render him the aid he needs and the King of France will hold the crown of England under Rome.’

John was silent. He had prepared himself to accept Stephen Langton which he must do; he would allow the exiled clergy to return, and he would compensate the Church for the loss it had suffered when he had confiscated much of its lands and goods. But he had not thought to make himself a vassal of Rome.

He talked to William Marshal, a man who was as sad at the prospect as he was himself. But the Marshal believed – and so did John – that to give way to the Pope was the only way out of a dangerous situation.

‘If you do it,’ said William, ‘you will gain certain advantages. Philip may not obey the Pope’s order to withdraw but if he should attempt invasion against the wishes of the Holy Father there will be many who are not eager to follow him. The barons here who are ready to revolt against you will not have the support of the Pope. The Interdict will be lifted and the benefits
of the Church will return to England. Think of it. There will be seemly burial and churching of women and the church doors will be opened once more to the people. You must do it, my lord. It is a sad state of affairs but this is the best way out of our difficulties.’

John said: ‘I often think of the hermit in Corfe Castle.’

‘Ah, the prophecy. When was it to be fulfilled?’

‘On Ascension Day.’

‘Which will soon be upon us.’

The two men looked at each other gravely. Then John spoke. ‘I will do it,’ he said. ‘I will become a vassal of the Pope.’

‘Better that,’ agreed William Marshal, ‘than to become the defeated enemy of the King of France.’

So there followed the ceremony of removing the crown from John’s head which was symbolic of his submission to the Pope and then immediately replacing it to indicate that the Pope had graciously bestowed it on him once more. He was still King of England but he held the crown as the Pope’s vassal which was a matter for rejoicing, said John, for it meant that Holy Rome was the protector of King and country.

John was exultant. He had come well out of his troubles. It was true he had had to accept Stephen Langton but he would make sure that the Archbishop’s claws were clipped when he came to England, and he was no more ready to allow the Church to interfere with the State than any of his predecessors had been, but for a while he could sigh with relief, smile sardonically to think of the army Philip had accumulated with which to invade England, and congratulate himself that he had emerged in triumph from a very alarming situation.

It was time for rejoicing, he told his people. The Interdict was over and the church bells would ring again. There was friendship between England and Rome; there was more than that; there was a great alliance and the Holy See had thrown its protective wings across the country. Let pavilions be erected in the Kentish countryside; let there be singing and dancing in the streets of Dover. Instead of war there was feasting. Instead of a foreign invader their own King was there to rule over them. All was well with England.

The people were always ready for merrymaking. They listened to the church bells ringing and that seemed a very melodious sound; they spoke lovingly of King John who had so adroitly saved them from the French invaders; they danced and sang and there were bonfires on the hills of Kent.

Those who had proclaimed their faith in Peter of Pontefract assured themselves that his prophecy had come true. John had lost his crown by Ascension Day but what Peter had not seen was that he had regained it. Some pointed out that the prophecy had been that John would lose his crown and someone more in God’s favour would wear it. Well, they could even make that fit. The John who had regained the crown was a vassal of the Pope and therefore a changed man. In God’s eyes one under the protection of the Holy Father would be more in God’s favour.

So everyone could be happy and it was easy to be deluded into forgetting the high taxation, the rages of the King which could spell disaster in so many ways to any who displeased him. Just for a day they would give way to merriment and a blind faith in the future.

John was not inclined to forget Peter of Pontefract. The man had caused him a great deal of uneasiness. He had been
infuriated by the manner in which he had stood before him with that fanatical look in his eyes as though he were a messenger from God.

And what would people be saying now? They would twist his prophecy to make it the truth. John had hated the man when he had stood there before him and blatantly stated that his place would be taken by someone more worthy in God’s eyes.

A king should not allow men to talk to him in that way. Peter of Pontefract must not be allowed to live and make more such prophecies. For that was what the man would do, he was sure. And he would carry a certain amount of opinion with him. Such uneasy men should be removed.

He gave orders that Peter should be taken from his dungeon in Corfe, and hanged. But first, as a warning to others who might feel they had the gift of prophecy and through this believed they could plot against the King, he was to be tied to a horse’s tail and dragged to the place of execution where he should be hanged high on a gibbet that all might see the fate in store for any who acted in a similar manner.

The King’s orders were carried out and so fickle were the people that those who had supported Peter and declared that he in truth was a great prophet and a man of God, fearing to offend the King, now reviled him.

Chapter XVII

O
n the other side of the Channel Pandulph was in consultation with Philip of France.

‘You must disband your fleet and your armies,’ he told Philip. ‘Invasion of England is now quite out of the question. England is now a papal fief and to attack England is to attack Rome.’

Philip was furious. He had seen England ripe for invasion, a weak king, dissatisfied barons who at his first success would be ready to desert John for him; and now by this adroit action of John’s in surrendering his crown to the Pope and receiving it back as a vassal, his weak enemy had become a powerful one.

‘It has cost me a great deal of money and months of preparation,’ cried Philip. ‘Was it all of no avail?’

‘You could not hope for success if Rome was against you,’ was the answer.