@ricardusfirst Oh my god!
I got more and more excited as I was reading.
Even though I didn't know this story at first, I just knew immediately that the person arriving would be Richard!
He is just too handsome, seriously, it makes you want to follow him for a lifetime!
TOO HANDSOME!!!😭
February, 1183 in Limousin
The rebellion had begun when Henry, the Young King, threw in his lot with the barons of Aquitaine against their own duke.
Now the Viscount of Limoges, Aimar, had several of the Duke of Aquitaine’s knights trapped inside the church at Gorre in the Limousin. They had barricaded the doors and held out as long as they could, but the end was only a matter of time. No relief was coming. They would either be cut down or slowly starve behind the walls.
Aimar and his men were encamped in the town below. The viscount had just taken a wineskin from the hands of a squire when a shout split the afternoon air.
Every head turned at once.
One of their sentries was galloping toward the camp, yelling that riders were fast approaching. Knowing this seasoned soldier would not have been alarmed unless the riders posed a threat, Aimar whirled and ran for his horse, snatching up his helmet.
By the time he hauled himself into the saddle, the camp had erupted into chaos. Men were shouting for weapons, scrambling to mount, stumbling from tents half armed.
Whores almost inevitably turned up at an army encampment, and some of these women were screaming shrilly even before the riders came into view, clad in chain mail, swords drawn and lances leveled, mounted on horses caked in lather and dust. One glimpse was enough to tell Aimar that they were in for a fierce fight.
One of the lead knights drew Aimar's attention, for he rode ahead of the others.
As he charged through the camp, he met a burning fire in his path and simply leapt it, horse and rider clearing the flames in a single bound rather than breaking stride. Even in that moment, the viscount could not help but admire the horsemanship.
The knight had caught the attention of the leader of his routiers, Arnald, too.
The routier lunged forward, reaching for the knight’s leg. It was a dangerous move, but Arnald had dragged more than one man from the saddle that way. He was a huge fellow, broad as a smith and immensely strong.
For an instant it looked as if he might succeed.
Instead, the knight under attack did not pull back as men usually did; he leaned toward him.
And suddenly blood was spurting everywhere, a red haze before Aimar's eyes.
Arnald reeled backward, his face contorted as he stared in shock at the stump where his hand had been.
The knight's sword was already sweeping down again, a powerful blow that all but decapitated the routier.
Aimar heard the command to retreat and was surprised that the order was coming from his throat, for he'd not made a conscious decision to withdraw. But by then he'd recognized the knight bloodied with Arnald's blood, and his instincts for self-preservation had taken over.
The awareness that they were facing Richard himself banished any desire for battle. He was no coward. But Richard was something else entirely.
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.
The nature of medieval warfare was, whenever possible, to avoid open battle.
A ruler would raise an army, march into enemy territory, lay siege to a castle, or establish a camp within sight of the opposing force. Then came the negotiations. The army itself was often a bargaining chip, a way to force concessions without risking everything in a single afternoon. More often than not, wars were decided through sieges, diplomacy, raids, the destruction of crops and villages, or the capture of strategic towns rather than through great clashes in the field.
Pitched battles were rare because they were dangerous. A king could lose in a few hours what it had taken decades to build.
Henry II is a good example. Across a reign of nearly 35 years, and even including the years before he became king, he fought campaign after campaign, yet never fought a major pitched battle in the way most people imagine medieval warfare. That was the norm. Successful rulers preferred sieges, maneuver, and negotiation to the gamble of open combat.
Which is what makes Richard so remarkable.
In just 10 years as king, Richard fought seven major battles and won every one of them. Seven.
And that number does not include the ambushes, skirmishes, and desperate engagements that filled his career. Those may sound minor on paper, but they were often some of the most dramatic episodes of his life. The action at Ibn Ibrak, for example, was technically an ambush, yet it remains as one of the most
epic and emotional moments of his life.
This is one reason Richard’s reputation endured long after so many other kings faded into the background. Medieval rulers won sieges, negotiated treaties, and secured borders. Richard did those things too. But he also accumulated moments of battlefield glory at a pace almost unmatched by his contemporaries.
He repeatedly chose the most dangerous place on the field and somehow kept winning.
I repeat, he won every battle he fought.
Against Saladin, against Philippe or against
Isaac Komnenos. Richard’s life ended before his victories did. In the end, Richard remains undefeated.
𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐝. On July 5, 1191, Richard was still gravely ill at Acre and yet he still found the way to keep fighting at the front lines.
For nearly two weeks he had been consumed by fever. He was conscious again by July 5, but so weakened that he could barely stand, let alone ride or fight. So he asked to be carried in a bed to the siege lines.
He placed himself where both armies could see him. The sight alone was meant to stiffen the resolve of his own men and remind the defenders that the king they had hoped sickness would remove was still there.
Then he picked up a crossbow.
Despite his condition, Richard began firing at the walls with the same skill that had long made him famous among his soldiers. The chroniclers claim that his aim surpassed even that of many professional arbalesters. Too weak to walk, he nevertheless spent the day shooting at the enemy and directing the assault.
The Gesta Ricardi describes the scene:
“King Richard had not yet completely recovered from his sickness. However, he was eager for action because he was very anxious to capture the city. So he arranged for his forces to storm the city… He had himself carried out on a bed, to discourage the Saracens with his presence and encourage his own people to fight. There he used his crossbow, with which he was very skilled, and killed many by firing bolts at them.”
It is one of those moments that sounds too theatrical to be true: a bedridden king, being carried to the frontlines so he could shoot at the walls of Acre.
And yet it happened just as told straight from the contemporary sources. https://t.co/gWIc0Gcxki
This only applies to those with short term impact. So most people. Historical figures like my boy or Genghis Khan do not get this treatment because they are adopted into humanity’s cultures and identities. So one can end up in a football jersey because he’s been transformed into an idealized figure. It’s been 799 years for Khan and 827 years for my child, they’ve past the mark into immortality, but in fact they appear in your everyday tweet or instagram infographic post, unfortunately.
That’s why it isn’t right to judge historical figures by modern standards, because they’ve done more than anyone living will do, stay in the collective consciousness for the rest of humanity’s existence and be the testament that humans once lived.
I do wonder where’s the line where someone becomes *that* because it’s hard to think of the latest of this type of humans. Queen Victoria? Hitler is only infamous. Maybe Elizabeth II. Cause I’m sure people like Trump will be collectively forgotten in 100 years only to be preserved in books. This is an extremely hard club to get into.
@ricardusfirst Just to clarify, the Japanese word 'Kunshu' doesn't just mean a regular 'lord.' It's a general term for a 'monarch' or 'sovereign.' It's an umbrella term that can be used for anyone from an emperor or a king to a sovereign duke.