THE REIGN OF SAINT LOUIS
56. The Character and Deeds of the King as Described by Joinville
Louis IX., or St. Louis, as he is commonly called, was the eldest son
of Louis VIII. and a grandson of Philip Augustus. He was born in 1214
and upon the death of his father in 1226 he succeeded to the throne of
France while yet but a boy of twelve. The recent reign of Philip
Augustus (1180-1223) had been a period marked by a great increase in
the royal power and by a corresponding lessening of the independent
authority of the feudal magnates. The accession of a boy-king was
therefore hailed by the discontented nobles as an opportunity to
recover something at least of their lost privileges. It would
doubtless have been such but for the vigilance, ability, and masculine
aggressiveness of the young king's mother, Blanche of Castile. Aided
by the clergy and the loyal party among the nobles, she, in the
capacity of regent, successfully defended her son's interests against
a succession of plots and uprisings, with the result that when Louis
gradually assumed control of affairs in his own name, about 1236, the
realm was in good order and the dangers which once had been so
threatening had all but disappeared. The king's education and moral
training had been well attended to, and he arrived at manhood with
an equipment quite unusual among princes of his day. His reign
extended to 1270 and became in some respects the most notable in all
French history. In fact, whether viewed from the standpoint of his
personal character or his practical achievements, St. Louis is
generally admitted to have been one of the most remarkable sovereigns
of mediaeval Europe. He was famous throughout Christendom for his
piety, justice, wisdom, and ability, being recognized as at once a
devoted monk, a brave knight, and a capable king. In him were blended
two qualities--vigorous activity and proneness to austere
meditation--rarely combined in such measure in one person. His
character may be summed up by saying that he had all the virtues of
his age and few of its vices. No less cynical a critic than Voltaire
has declared that he went as far in goodness as it is possible for a
man to go.
Saint Louis being thus so interesting a character in himself, it is
very fortunate that we have an excellent contemporary biography of
him, from the hand of a friend and companion who knew him well. Sire
de Joinville's _Histoire de Saint Louis_ is a classic of French
literature and in most respects the best piece of biographical writing
that has come down to us from the Middle Ages. Joinville, or more
properly John, lord of Joinville, was born in Champagne, in northern
France, probably in 1225. His family was one of the most distinguished
in Champagne and he himself had all the advantages that could come
from being brought up at the refined court of the count of this
favored district. In 1248, when St. Louis set out on his first
crusading expedition, Joinville, only recently become of age, took the
cross and became a follower of the king, joining him in Cyprus and
there first definitely entering his service. During the next six years
the two were inseparable companions, and even after Joinville, in
1254, retired from the king's service in order to manage his estates
in Champagne he long continued to make frequent visits of a social
character to the court.
Joinville's memoirs of St. Louis were completed about 1309--probably
nine years before the death of the author--and they were first
published soon after the death of Philip the Fair in 1314. They
constitute by far the most important source of information on the
history of France in the middle portion of the thirteenth century.
Joinville had the great advantage of intimate acquaintance and long
association with King Louis and, what is equally important, he seems
to have tried to write in a spirit of perfect fairness and justice. He
was an ardent admirer of Louis, but his biography did not fall into
the tempting channel of mere fulsome and indiscriminate praise.
Moreover, the work is a biography of the only really satisfactory
type; it is not taken up with a bare recital of events in the life of
the individual under consideration, but it has a broad background
drawn from the general historical movements and conditions of the
time. Its most obvious defects arise from the fact that it comprises
largely the reminiscences of an old man, which are never likely to be
entirely accurate or well-balanced. In his dedication of the treatise
to Louis, eldest son of Philip IV., the author relates that it had
been written at the urgent solicitation of the deceased king's widow.
The biography in print makes a good-sized volume and it is possible,
of course, to reproduce here but a few significant passages from it.
But these are perhaps sufficient to show what sort of man the
saint-king really was, and it is just this insight into the character
of the men of the Middle Ages that is most worth getting--and the
hardest thing, as a rule, to get. Incidentally, the extract throws
some light on the methods of warfare employed by the crusaders and the
Turks.
Source--Jean, Sire de Joinville, _Histoire de Saint Louis_.
Text edited by M. Joseph Noel (Natalis de Wailly) and
published by the Societe de l'Histoire de France (Paris,
1868). Translated by James Hutton under title of _Saint Louis,
King of France_ (London, 1868), _passim_.
[Sidenote: The king's birth]
As I have heard him say, he [Saint Louis] was born on the day of
St. Mark the Evangelist,[446] shortly after Easter. On that day the
cross is carried in procession in many places, and in France they
are called black crosses. It was therefore a sort of prophecy of
the great numbers of people who perished in those two crusades,
i.e., in that to Egypt, and in that other, in the course of which
he died at Carthage;[447] for many great sorrows were there on that
account in this world, and many great joys are there now in
Paradise on the part of those who in those two pilgrimages died
true crusaders.
[Sidenote: His early training]
God, in whom he put his trust, preserved him ever from his infancy
to the very last; and especially in his infancy did He preserve him
when he stood in need of help, as you will presently hear. As for
his soul, God preserved it through the pious instructions of his
mother, who taught him to believe in God and to love Him, and
placed about him none but ministers of religion. And she made him,
while he was yet a child, attend to all his prayers and listen to
the sermons on saints' days. He remembered that his mother used
sometimes to tell him that she would rather he were dead than that
he should commit a deadly sin.
[Sidenote: Difficulties at the beginning of his reign]
Sore need of God's help had he in his youth, for his mother, who
came out of Spain, had neither relatives nor friends in all the
realm of France. And because the barons of France saw that the king
was an infant, and the queen, his mother, a foreigner, they made
the count of Boulogne, the king's uncle, their chief, and looked up
to him as their lord.[448] After the king was crowned, some of the
barons asked of the queen to bestow upon them large domains; and
because she would do nothing of the kind all the barons assembled
at Corbei.[449] And the sainted king related to me how neither he
nor his mother, who were at Montlheri,[450] dared to return to
Paris, until the citizens of Paris came, with arms in their hands,
to escort them. He told me, too, that from Montlheri to Paris the
road was filled with people, some with and some without weapons,
and that all cried unto our Lord to give him a long and happy life,
and to defend and preserve him from his enemies....
[Sidenote: Louis takes the cross]
After these things it chanced, as it pleased God, that great
illness fell upon the king at Paris, by which he was brought to
such extremity that one of the women who watched by his side wanted
to draw the sheet over his face, saying that he was dead; but
another woman, who was on the other side of the bed, would not
suffer it, for the soul, she said, had not yet left the body. While
he was listening to the dispute between these two, our Lord wrought
upon him and quickly sent him health; for before that he was dumb,
and could not speak. He demanded that the cross should be given to
him, and it was done. When the queen, his mother, heard that he had
recovered his speech, she exhibited as much joy as could be; but
when she was told by himself that he had taken the cross, she
displayed as much grief as if she had seen him dead.
[Sidenote: Prominent Frenchmen who followed his example]
After the king put on the cross, Robert, count of Artois, Alphonse,
count of Poitiers, Charles, count of Anjou, who was afterwards king
of Sicily--all three brothers of the king--also took the cross; as
likewise did Hugh, duke of Burgundy, William, count of Flanders
(brother to Count Guy of Flanders, the last who died), the good
Hugh, count of Saint Pol, and Monseigneur Walter, his nephew, who
bore himself right manfully beyond seas, and would have been of
great worth had he lived. There was also the count of La Marche,
and Monseigneur Hugh le Brun, his son; the count of Sarrebourg, and
Monseigneur d'Apremont, his brother, in whose company I myself,
John, Seigneur de Joinville, crossed the sea in a ship we
chartered, because we were cousins; and we crossed over in all
twenty knights, nine of whom followed the count of Sarrebourg, and
nine were with me....
The king summoned his barons to Paris, and made them swear to keep
faith and loyalty towards his children if anything happened to
himself on the voyage. He asked the same of me, but I refused to
take any oath, because I was not his vassal....
[Sidenote: Embarking on the Mediterranean]
In the month of August we went on board our ships at the Rock of
Marseilles. The day we embarked the door of the vessel was opened,
and the horses that we were to take with us were led inside. Then
they fastened the door and closed it up tightly, as when one sinks
a cask, because when the ship is at sea the whole of the door is
under water. When the horses were in, our sailing-master called out
to his mariners who were at the prow: "Are you all ready?" And they
replied: "Sir, let the clerks and priests come forward." As soon
as they had come nigh, he shouted to them; "Chant, in God's name!"
And they with one voice chanted, "_Veni, Creator Spiritus._" Then
the master called out to his men: "Set sail, in God's name!" And
they did so. And in a little time the wind struck the sails and
carried us out of sight of land, so that we saw nothing but sea and
sky; and every day the wind bore us farther away from the land
where we were born. And thereby I show you how foolhardy he must be
who would venture to put himself in such peril with other people's
property in his possession, or while in deadly sin; for when you
fall asleep at night you know not but that ere the morning you may
be at the bottom of the sea.
[Sidenote: Preparations made in Cyprus]
When we reached Cyprus, the king was already there, and we found an
immense supply of stores for him, i.e., wine-stores and granaries.
The king's wine-stores consisted of great piles of casks of wine,
which his people had purchased two years before the king's arrival
and placed in an open field near the seashore. They had piled them
one upon the other, so that when seen from the front they looked
like a farmhouse. The wheat and barley had been heaped up in the
middle of the field, and at first sight looked like hills; for the
rain, which had long beaten upon the corn, had caused it to sprout,
so that nothing was seen but green herbage. But when it was desired
to transport it to Egypt, they broke off the outer coating with the
green herbage, and the wheat and barley within were found as fresh
as if they had only just been threshed out.
[Sidenote: An embassy from the Khan]
The king, as I have heard him say, would gladly have pushed on to
Egypt without stopping, had not his barons advised him to wait for
his army, which had not all arrived. While the king was sojourning
in Cyprus, the great Khan of Tartary[451] sent envoys to him, the
bearers of very courteous messages. Among other things, he told him
that he was ready to aid him in conquering the Holy Land and in
delivering Jerusalem out of the hands of the Saracens. The king
received the messengers very graciously, and sent some to the Khan,
who were two years absent before they could return. And with his
messengers the king sent to the Khan a tent fashioned like a
chapel, which cost a large sum of money, for it was made of fine
rich scarlet cloth. And the king, in the hope of drawing the Khan's
people to our faith, caused to be embroidered inside the chapel,
pictures representing the Annunciation of Our Lady, and other
articles of faith. And he sent these things to them by the hands of
two friars, who spoke the Saracen language, to teach and point out
to them what they ought to believe....
[Sidenote: The departure from Cyprus]
As soon as March came round, the king, and, by his command, the
barons and other pilgrims, gave orders that the ships should be
laden with wine and provisions, to be ready to sail when the king
should give the signal. It happened that when everything was ready,
the king and queen withdrew on board their ship on the Friday
before Whitsunday, and the king desired his barons to follow in his
wake straight towards Egypt. On Saturday[452] the king set sail,
and all the other vessels at the same time, which was a fine sight
to behold, for it seemed as if the whole sea, as far as the eye
could reach, was covered with sails, and the number of ships,
great and small, was reckoned at 1,800....[453]
[Sidenote: Decision to proceed against Cairo]
Upon the arrival of the count of Poitiers, the king summoned all
the barons of the army to decide in what direction he should march,
whether towards Alexandria, or towards Babylon.[454] It resulted
that the good Count Peter of Brittany, and most of the barons of
the army, were of the opinion that the king should lay siege to
Alexandria, because that city is possessed of a good port where the
vessels could lie that should bring provisions for the army. To
this the count of Artois was opposed. He said that he could not
advise going anywhere except to Babylon, because that was the chief
town in all the realm of Egypt; he added, that whosoever wished to
kill a serpent outright should crush its head. The king set aside
the advice of his barons, and held to that of his brother.
At the beginning of Advent, the king set out with his army to march
against Babylon, as the count of Artois had counseled him. Not far
from Damietta we came upon a stream of water which issued from the
great river [Nile], and it was resolved that the army should halt
for a day to dam up this branch, so that it might be crossed. The
thing was done easily enough, for the arm was dammed up close to
the great river. At the passage of this stream the sultan sent 500
of his knights, the best mounted in his whole army, to harass the
king's troops, and retard our march.
[Sidenote: A skirmish between the Saracens and the Templars]
On St. Nicholas's day[455] the king gave the order to march and
forbade that any one should be so bold as to sally out upon the
Saracens who were before us. So it chanced that when the army was
in motion to resume the march and the Turks saw that no one would
sally out against them, and learned from their spies that the king
had forbidden it, they became emboldened and attacked the
Templars,[456] who formed the advance-guard. And one of the Turks
hurled to the ground one of the knights of the Temple, right before
the feet of the horse of Reginald de Bichiers, who was at that time
Marshal of the Temple. When the latter saw this, he shouted to the
other brethren: "Have at them, in God's name! I cannot suffer any
more of this." He dashed in his spurs, and all the army did
likewise. Our people's horses were fresh, while those of the Turks
were already worn out. Whence it happened, as I have heard, that
not a Turk escaped, but all perished, several of them having
plunged into the river, where they were drowned....[457]
One evening when we were on duty near the cat castles, they brought
against us an engine called _pierriere_,[458] which they had never
done before, and they placed Greek fire[459] in the sling of the
engine. When Monseigneur Walter de Cureil, the good knight, who
was with me, saw that, he said to us: "Sirs, we are in the greatest
peril we have yet been in; for if they set fire to our towers, and
we remain here, we are dead men, and if we leave our posts which
have been intrusted to us, we are put to shame; and no one can
rescue us from this peril save God. It is therefore my opinion and
my advice to you that each time they discharge the fire at us we
should throw ourselves upon our elbows and knees, and pray our Lord
to bring us out of this danger."
[Sidenote: The Saracens make use of Greek fire]
As soon as they fired we threw ourselves upon our elbows and knees,
as he had counseled us. The first shot they fired came between our
two cat castles, and fell in front of us on the open place which
the army had made for the purpose of damming the river. Our men
whose duty it was to extinguish fires were all ready for it; and
because the Saracens could not aim at them on account of the two
wings of the sheds which the king had erected there, they fired
straight up towards the clouds, so that their darts came down from
above upon the men. The nature of the Greek fire was in this wise,
that it rushed forward as large around as a cask of verjuice,[460]
and the tail of the fire which issued from it was as big as a
large-sized spear. It made such a noise in coming that it seemed as
if it were a thunderbolt from heaven and looked like a dragon
flying through the air. It cast such a brilliant light that in the
camp they could see as clearly as if it were daytime, because of
the light diffused by such a bulk of fire. Three times that night
they discharged the Greek fire at us, and four times they sent it
from the fixed cross-bows. Each time that Our sainted king heard
that they had discharged the Greek fire at us, he dressed himself
on his bed and stretched out his hands towards our Lord, and prayed
with tears: "Fair Sire God, preserve me my people!" And I verily
believe that his prayers stood us in good stead in our hour of
need. That evening, every time the fire fell, he sent one of his
chamberlains to inquire in what state we were and if the fire had
done us any damage. One time when they threw it, it fell close to
the cat castle which Monseigneur de Courtenay's people were
guarding, and struck on the river-bank. Then a knight named
Aubigoiz called to me and said: "Sir, if you do not help us we are
all burnt, for the Saracens have discharged so many of their darts
dipped in Greek fire that there is of them, as it were, a great
blazing hedge coming towards our tower."
We ran forward and hastened thither and found that he spoke the
truth. We extinguished the fire, but before we had done so the
Saracens covered us with the darts they discharged from the other
side of the river.
[Sidenote: Progress of the conflict]
The king's brothers mounted guard on the roof of the cat castles to
fire bolts from cross-bows against the Saracens, and which fell
into their camp. The king had commanded that when the king of
Sicily[461] mounted guard in the daytime at the cat castles, we
were to do so at night. One day when the king of Sicily was keeping
watch, which we should have to do at night, we were in much trouble
of mind because the Saracens had shattered our cat castles. The
Saracens brought out the _pierriere_ in the daytime, which they had
hitherto done only at night, and discharged the Greek fire at our
towers. They had advanced their engines so near to the causeway
which the army had constructed to dam the river that no one dared
to go to the towers, because of the huge stones which the engines
flung upon the road. The consequence was that our two towers were
burned, and the king of Sicily was so enraged about it that he came
near flinging himself into the fire to extinguish it. But if he
were wrathful, I and my knights, for our part, gave thanks to God;
for if we had mounted guard at night, we should all have been
burned....[462]
It came to pass that the sainted king labored so much that the
king of England, his wife, and children, came to France to treat
with him about peace between him and them. The members of his
council were strongly opposed to this peace, and said to him:
[Sidenote: The treaty of Paris, 1259]
"Sire, we greatly marvel that it should be your pleasure to yield
to the king of England such a large portion of your land, which you
and your predecessors have won from him, and obtained through
forfeiture. It seems to us that if you believe you have no right to
it, you do not make fitting restitution to the king of England
unless you restore to him all the conquests which you and your
predecessors have made; but if you believe that you have a right to
it, it seems to us that you are throwing away all that you yield to
him."
To this the sainted king replied after this fashion: "Sirs, I am
certain that the king of England's predecessors lost most justly
the conquests I hold; and the land which I give up to him I do not
give because I am bound either towards himself or his heirs, but to
create love between his children and mine, who are first cousins.
And it seems to me that I am making a good use of what I give to
him, because before he was not my vassal, but now he has to render
homage to me."...[463]
After the king's return from beyond sea, he lived so devoutly that
he never afterwards wore furs of different colors, nor
minnever,[464] nor scarlet cloth, nor gilt stirrups or spurs. His
dress was of camlet[465] and of a dark blue cloth; the linings of
his coverlets and garments were of doeskin or hare-legs.
[Sidenote: The king's personal traits]
When rich men's minstrels entered the hall after the repast,
bringing with them their viols, he waited to hear grace until the
minstrel had finished his chant; then he rose and the priests who
said grace stood before him. When we were at his court in a private
way,[466] he used to sit at the foot of his bed, and when the
Franciscans and Dominicans[467] who were there spoke of a book that
would give him pleasure, he would say to them: "You shall not read
to me, for, after eating, there is no book so pleasant as
_quolibets_,"--that is, that every one should say what he likes.
When men of quality dined with him, he made himself agreeable to
them....
[Sidenote: His primitive method of dispensing justice]
Many a time it happened that in the summer he would go and sit down
in the wood at Vincennes,[468] with his back to an oak, and make us
take our seats around him. And all those who had complaints to make
came to him, without hindrance from ushers or other folk. Then he
asked them with his own lips: "Is there any one here who has a
cause?"[469] Those who had a cause stood up, when he would say to
them: "Silence all, and you shall be dispatched one after the
other." Then he would call Monseigneur de Fontaines, or Monseigneur
Geoffrey de Villette, and would say to one of them: "Dispose of
this case for me." When he saw anything to amend in the words of
those who spoke for others, he would correct it with his own lips.
Sometimes in summer I have seen him, in order to administer justice
to the people, come into the garden of Paris dressed in a camlet
coat, a surcoat of woollen stuff, without sleeves, a mantle of
black taffety around his neck, his hair well combed and without
coif, a hat with white peacock's feathers on his head. Carpets were
spread for us to sit down upon around him, and all the people who
had business to dispatch stood about in front of him. Then he would
have it dispatched in the same manner as I have already described
in the wood of Vincennes.
FOOTNOTES:
[446] April 25, 1215.
[447] Louis started on his first crusade in August, 1248. After a
series of disasters in Egypt he managed to reach the Holy Land, where
he spent nearly four years fortifying the great seaports. He returned
to France in July, 1254. Sixteen years later, in July, 1270, he
started on his second crusade. He had but reached Carthage when he was
suddenly taken ill and compelled to halt the expedition. He died there
August 25, 1270. Louis was as typical a crusader as ever lived, but in
his day men of his kind were few; the great era of crusading
enterprise was past.
[448] This was Philip, son of Philip Augustus. The lands of the count
of Boulogne lay on the coast of the English Channel north of the
Somme.
[449] An important church center about seventy miles north of Paris.
[450] A town a few miles south of Paris.
[451] In the early years of the thirteenth century, an Asiatic
chieftain by the name of Genghis Khan built up a vast empire of Mongol
or Tartar peoples, which for a time stretched all the way from China
to eastern Germany. The rise and westward expansion of this barbarian
power spread alarm throughout Christendom, and with good reason, for
it was with great difficulty that the Tartar sovereigns were prevented
from extending their dominion over Germany and perhaps over all
western Europe. After the first feeling of terror had passed, however,
it began to be considered that possibly the Asiatic conquerors might
yet be made to serve the interests of Christendom. They were not
Mohammedans, and Christian leaders saw an opportunity to turn them
against the Saracen master of the coveted Holy Land. Louis IX.'s
reception of an embassy from Ilchikadai, one of the Tartar khans, or
sovereigns, was only one of several incidents which illustrate the
efforts made in this direction. After this episode the Tartars
advanced rapidly into Syria, taking the important cities of Damascus
and Aleppo; but a great defeat, September 3, 1260, by the sultan Kutuz
at Ain Talut stemmed the tide of invasion and compelled the Tartars to
retire to their northern dominions.
[452] May 21, 1249.
[453] Joinville here gives an account of the first important
undertaking of the crusaders--the capture of Damietta. After this
achievement the king resolved to await the arrival of his brother, the
count of Poitiers, with additional troops. The delay thus occasioned
was nearly half a year in length, i.e., until October.
[454] This was a common designation of Cairo, the Saracen capital of
Egypt.
[455] December 6.
[456] The order of the Templars was founded in 1119 to afford
protection to pilgrims in Palestine. The name was taken from the
temple of Solomon, in Jerusalem, near which the organization's
headquarters were at first established. The Templars, in their early
history, were a military order and they had a prominent part in most
of the crusading movements after their foundation.
[457] At this point Joinville gives an extended description of the
Nile and its numerous mouths. King Louis found himself on the bank of
one of the streams composing the delta, with the sultan's army drawn
up on the other side to prevent the Christians from crossing. Louis
determined to construct an embankment across the stream, so that his
troops might cross and engage in battle with the enemy. To protect the
men engaged in building the embankment, two towers, called cat castles
(because they were in front of two cats, or covered galleries) were
erected. Under cover of these, the work of constructing a passageway
went on, though the Saracens did not cease to shower missiles upon the
laborers.
[458] An instrument intended primarily for the hurling of stones.
[459] Greek fire was made in various ways, but its main ingredients
were sulphur, Persian gum, pitch, petroleum, and oil. It was a highly
inflammable substance and when once ignited could be extinguished only
by the use of vinegar or sand. It was used quite extensively by the
Saracens in their battles with the crusaders, being usually projected
in the form of fire-balls from hollow tubes.
[460] An acid liquor made from sour apples or grapes.
[461] Charles, count of Anjou--a brother of Saint Louis.
[462] Joinville's story of the remainder of the campaign in Egypt is a
long one. Enough has been given to show something of the character of
the conflicts between Saracen and crusader. In the end Louis was
compelled to withdraw his shattered army. He then made his way to the
Holy Land in the hope of better success, but the four years he spent
there were likewise a period of disappointment.
[463] The treaty here referred to is that of Paris, negotiated by
Louis IX. and Henry III. in 1259. By it the English king renounced his
claim to Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and Poitou, while Louis IX.
ceded to Henry the Limousin, Perigord, and part of Saintonge, besides
the reversion of Agenais and Quercy. The territories thus abandoned by
the French were to be annexed to the duchy of Guienne, for which Henry
III. was to render homage to the French king, just as had been
rendered by the English sovereigns before the conquests of Philip
Augustus. Manifestly Louis IX.'s chief motive in yielding possession
of lands he regarded as properly his was to secure peace with England
and to get the homage of the English king for Guienne. For upwards of
half a century the relations of England and France had been strained
by reason of the refusal of Henry III. to recognize the conquests of
Philip Augustus and to render the accustomed homage. The treaty of
Paris was important because it regulated the relations of France and
England to the outbreak of the Hundred Years' War. It undertook to
perpetuate the old division of French soil between the English and
French monarchs--an arrangement always fruitful of discord and
destined, more than anything else, to bring on the great struggle of
the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries between the two nations [see p.
417 ff.].
[464] A fur much esteemed in the Middle Ages. It is not known whether
it was the fur of a single animal or of several kinds combined.
[465] A woven fabric made of camel's hair.
[466] After his retirement from the royal service in 1254 Joinville
frequently made social visits at Louis's court.
[467] On the Franciscans and Dominicans [see p. 360].
[468] To the east from Paris--now a suburb of that city. The chateau
of Vincennes was one of the favorite royal residences.
[469] That is, a case in law.