How this great influence over the young King was acquired the old manuscripts do not tell us. The first time we hear of Bertran in history is in connection with the quarrels between Richard, at that time Count of Poitou, and his unruly barons in the south of France. Amongst these Bertran de Born took a prominent position. His worldly possessions were of comparatively small importance, but his fame as a poet, his personal valour, his indomitable fierceness and love of war made up for this want, and qualified him for the part of ringleader and prime intellectual mover of the rebellious party. A cause of quarrel between such an overlord as Richard and such a vassal as Bertran may easily be imagined; but beyond these public grounds of mutual animosity there seems to have been some personal grudge between them. The manuscripts speak of a lady in whose heart the troubadour supplanted his princely rival, and in addition to this fact—perhaps in consequence of it—we hear of Richard’s hostile interference in his adversary’s private concerns. Bertran de Born had a brother, Constantine by name, with whom he shared the possession of Castle Autafort. He is described by the manuscripts as ‘a good knight, but not a man to trouble himself much about valour or honour.’ A man of this kind stood little chance of holding his own against our troubadour, and internal evidence strongly points towards the latter as the aggressor in the endless quarrels between the two brothers. This, however, Bertran’s biographer does not acknowledge. He goes on to say that Constantine ‘hated Bertran at all seasons, and wished well to those who wished ill to Bertran, and he took from him the Castle of Autafort, which belonged to them both in common. But Sir Bertran soon recovered it, and drove his brother from all his possessions.’ At this juncture Richard interfered in favour of Constantine. Together with Aimar, Viscount of Limoges, and other powerful barons, he invaded Bertran’s domains, which soon became the scene of atrocities such as are the usual concomitants of civil feud. Castle Autafort itself was threatened, but its master remained undaunted. In a powerful _sirventes_ he hurls defiance at his enemies. A war-song more recklessly bold, more graphically real, has seldom been heard. Let the reader judge. ‘All day long,’ Bertran says, ‘I fight, and am at work, to make a thrust at them and defend myself, for they are laying waste my land and burning my crops; they pull up my trees by the root and mix my corn with the straw. Cowards and brave men are my enemies. I constantly disunite and sow hatred amongst the barons, and then remould and join them together again, and try to give them brave hearts and strong; but I am a fool for my trouble, for they are made of base metal.’