ass their
political aggrandizement, he was guilty of atrocious injustice towards
them, and set them a bad example in his own person.

The tidings of Henry's death had no sooner reached Bretagne than the
barons of that country rose with one accord against his government,
banished or massacred his officers, and, sanctioned by the Duchess
Constance, drove Randal de Blondeville and his followers from Bretagne;
he retired to his earldom of Chester, there to brood over his injuries,
and meditate vengeance.

In the mean time, Richard I. ascended the English throne. Soon
afterwards he embarked on his celebrated expedition to the Holy Land,
having previously declared Prince Arthur, the only son of Constance,
heir to all his dominions.[84]

His absence, and that of many of her own turbulent barons and
encroaching neighbors, left to Constance and her harassed dominions a
short interval of profound peace. The historians of that period,
occupied by the warlike exploits of the French and English kings in
Palestine, make but little mention of the domestic events of Europe
during their absence; but it is no slight encomium on the character of
Constance, that Bretagne flourished under her government, and began to
recover from the effects of twenty years of desolating war. The seven
years during which she ruled as an independent sovereign, were not
marked by any events of importance; but in the year 1196 she caused her
son Arthur, then nine years of age, to be acknowledged Duke of Bretagne
by the States, and associated him with herself in all the acts of
government.

There was more of maternal fondness than policy in this measure, and it
cost her dear. Richard, that royal firebrand, had now returned to
England: by the intrigues and representations of Earl Randal, his
attention was turned to Bretagne. He expressed extreme indignation that
Constance should have proclaimed her son Duke of Bretagne, and her
partner in power, without his consent, he being the feudal lord and
natural guardian of the young prince. After some excuses and
representations on the part of Constance, he affected to be pacified,
and a friendly interview was appointed at Pontorson, on the frontiers of
Normandy.

We can hardly reconcile the cruel and perfidious scenes which follow
with those romantic and chivalrous associations which illustrate the
memory of Coeur-de-Lion--the friend of Blondel, and the antagonist of
Saladin. Constance, perfectly unsuspicious of