PARIS OF SAINT LOUIS
The son of Philip Augustus, Louis VIII, whose accession was celebrated
in Paris with high festivity, reigned for three dismal, unprofitable
years. His wife, Blanche of Castile, reared to a manhood of
conscientious rectitude their son, Louis IX, whose virtues were
recognized by canonization less than thirty years after his death.
It has happened, oddly enough, that although women are forbidden by the
fourteenth century construction of the Salic Law to sit on the throne of
France as sovereigns, no country has been more frequently ruled by
women. Sometimes the queen-mother has acted as regent during the
minority of her son, sometimes the queen has steered the ship of state
while her husband was out of the country on war intent. Isabella of
Hainault, Philip Augustus’s first wife, was regent when her lord went to
the third crusade in 1189; Blanche of Castile governed her son’s kingdom
for ten years (1226-1236); Anne de Beaujeu, daughter of Louis XI, guided
the realm of her brother, Charles VIII, from 1483-1490; Louise de
Savoie ruled (1515) until her son, Francis I came of age, and was again
entrusted with the power when he went upon one of his many military
expeditions; Catherine de Medicis, the mother of three kings--Francis
II, Charles IX and Henry III--began her career as a ruler when her
husband, Henry II, was warring with Germany (1552), continued it
unofficially during the short reign of Francis II, was legal regent
(1560) during the minority of Charles IX, and enjoyed a long continuance
of influence because of his and his brother Henry III’s weakness of
character which she herself had fostered; Marie de Medicis (1610) played
havoc with Henry IV’s reorganized France during the long minority of her
son, Louis XIII; Maria Theresa controlled the kingdom of Louis XIV while
the “Sun King” was carrying war into Holland; Marie Louise was declared
regent when Napoleon left France (1812-1814) to meet the allied forces
of Austria, England, Prussia, Russia, and Sweden; and Eugénie took her
husband’s place when Napoleon III fought against Austria (1859) and
again (1870) when he left his country, never to return to it, during the
ill-advised contest with Prussia.
Blanche of Castile was a person of extraordinary political intelligence,
tact and administrative ability. The years of her son’s minority were
made turbulent by unruly vassals who thought to take advantage of the
inexperience of a woman, yet the queen-regent proved herself able to
cope with every situation that arose. She endeared herself and the young
king to the burgesses by appealing to them for support against the
lords, and the lords realized the worth of the citizens’ friendship. On
one occasion, when the _bourgeois_ of Paris set forth to meet and
protect their young master who was surrounded by foes at some distance
from the city, the nobles, hearing the news, gave up their iniquitous
intentions and went to their homes. Indeed, it was their lack of
coöperation among themselves that enabled Louis all through his reign to
strengthen the royal power at the expense of that of his subjects.
In her treatment of these troublesome lords Blanche was not always
obliged to use such stern measures as force of arms. Her armory was full
of woman’s weapons, for she was handsome and gracious, and her manner
and charm often brought about conclusions which she might not have
reached by argument. In spite of the constant uprisings and conspiracies
with which she had to contend the kingdom as a whole did not degenerate,
and Philip Augustus’s strong foundation was not undermined. More and
more power became centralized in the throne, Louis pursuing from a
single-hearted belief that such a concentration was best for his people,
the policy which his grandfather undertook for ambition’s sake.
Had Louis followed his personal inclinations he would have entered the
religious life. It has been suggested that Blanche encouraged this
spirit in him, not because it would have been possible for him to have
given up his throne, but because, if his interests were involved
elsewhere he would not interfere with his mother’s rule of his kingdom.
Blanche’s failing was jealousy. Jealous even of her own child, she
continued to force her influence upon Louis after he was of age.
Jealousy moved her to interfere between him and his wife, Margaret of
Provence, so that they had to meet by stealth. She even took him from
his wife’s bedside when she was thought to be dying. Naturally such an
attitude did not endear her to her daughter-in-law, and Margaret,
envious perhaps, in her turn became ambitious for power which she was
not competent to wield. Who shall say that Louis had an easy life
between an ambitious mother to whom his dignity did not permit him to
give way, and a wife, finely courageous, but without talents of the
larger sort! Only the fact that he loved both women tenderly could have
given him the wisdom to steer his course straight.
The English king, Henry III, became involved in a quarrel between Louis
and one of his vassals, and invaded France. Louis took the _oriflamme_
from Saint Denis and went against his foes, gaining victory after
victory but using his gain with a moderation and kindness very different
from the custom of the time. After the first hurt to his pride had worn
away Henry was of a mind to be glad to accept Louis’ offer to give back
to him such of his holdings in France as had been captured in the recent
war, provided that Henry renounced others for all time, and admitted
himself the vassal of France for those he still retained.
The ceremony of swearing the oath to Louis took place in the square (now
the Place Dauphine) at the western end of the palace. Amid a great
gathering of nobles and priests both French and English, Henry, dressed
with no sign of his royal state, not even wearing sword, spurs, cape or
head covering, knelt before Louis, laid his hands in his, and made oath,
“Sir, I become your liegeman with mouth and hands, and I swear and
promise you faith and loyalty, and to guard your right according to my
power, and to do fair justice at your summons or the summons of your
bailiff, to the best of my wit.”
Wise as he was in the rearing of his children, just to his people so
that even the quarrelsome lords brought their troubles to his Paris
court, generous to the poor and merciful to the afflicted, Louis was
cruelly harsh to those whom he considered at fault on the score of
religion. Heretics, so-called, he punished with severity; blasphemers he
caused to be branded on the mouth, saying that he himself would consent
to be branded with a hot iron if by that means all profane oaths might
be removed from his realm. “I was full twenty-two years in his company,”
says de Joinville, “and never heard him swear by God nor His Mother nor
His Saints. When he wished to affirm anything he would say ‘Truly that
was so,’ or ‘Truly, that is so.’”
On one occasion when he had commanded the branding of a Paris burgher
the decree was harshly criticised by the people. When these same folk a
little later were praising the king for some good works that he had done
for the city he said that he expected more favor from God for the curses
that his branding order had brought down upon his head than for the
honor that he received for these good works.
Queen Blanche was given to benevolence and during her regency set her
son an example which he willingly followed throughout his life. It was
she who excited his interest in continuing the rebuilding of the Hôtel
Dieu, the hospital which had stood in one guise or another for some
half dozen centuries on the south side of the Cité between the cathedral
and the river. A later annex was built on the left bank of the Seine
adjoining Saint Julien-le-Pauvre, and this section was not demolished
until 1908, although the buildings on the Cité were torn down and the
present Hôtel Dieu on the north of the cathedral was built some forty
years ago.
Louis’ philanthropic leanings included an establishment for the blind,
three hundred (“Quinze-Vingts,” “Fifteen-Twenties”) being sheltered in a
hospice which stood near the present Palais Royal, but is now
established in the eastern part of the town. His interest in learning
moved him to encourage his chaplain, Robert de Sorbon, in the
enlargement of the school named after him, the Sorbonne, which Robert
had undertaken at first for poor students, but which, under royal
patronage, became a renowned theological school. It has always been
independent in attitude, now opposed to the Reformation, now to the
Jesuits, now to the Jansenists. To-day it is the University of Paris,
the building on the Mont Sainte Geneviève being given over to the
faculties of arts and sciences. Here come students from all over the
world to listen to the foremost lecturers of France in a huge edifice
which about a quarter of a century ago replaced one built by Richelieu.
With the generosity which France has always shown in educational
matters all the lectures are free.
The palace on the Cité remained under Louis the heart of the bustling
city of 130,000 people. Here he came after his wedding, and the room
that he occupied was used by many succeeding monarchs on the night after
their first entry into Paris. The king’s library, built as a part of the
palace, was filled with the work of several thousand copyists. Louis
threw the building open to young students as well as to old scholars,
and loved nothing better than to walk about among the young men and
explain their tasks to them. In the palace garden the king used to sit
and administer justice. De Joinville says:
“Sometimes have I seen him, in summer, go to do justice among his
people in the garden of Paris, clothed in a tunic of camlet, a
surcoat of tartan without sleeves, and a mantle of black taffeta
about his neck, his hair well combed, no cap, and a hat of white
peacock’s feathers upon his head. And he would cause a carpet to be
laid down, so that we might sit round him, and all the people who
had any cause to bring before him stood around. And then would he
have their causes settled, as I have told you afore he was wont to
do in the wood of Vincennes.”
Other parts of the palace were built by Saint Louis, notably the vaulted
guard hall in the lower part of the north side. The ancient round towers
belong to the Conciergerie where, during the Revolution, Marie
Antoinette and many others as brave and as innocent went from
imprisonment to death by the guillotine. Queen Blanche gave her name to
an existing room in one of the towers.
In early days the towers must have been an impressive feature of the
building. Their foundations are sunk below the surface of the river, and
where the king’s hall opened on the street at the water level these
massive constructions, now half buried by the quay, rose, tall and
menacing on the island’s shore.
The Tour de l’Horloge, the square tower at the corner, replaces an early
Merovingian tower on the same spot. The oldest public clock in France
still tells the hour from its sculptured canopy, and its bell gave the
left bank signal for the massacre of Saint Bartholomew.
Unable to leave his royal duties for the monastery, as he would have
liked, Louis showed his leaning by the fostering of many religious
houses. Paris was filled with brethren of the various orders, later to
become a doubtful blessing, but now sincere, useful, typical of the
trusting nature of the thirteenth century. Louis sat at their feet in
spirit as he did literally before the great, lecturers of the
University. To the Louvre he added a chapel.
It was to be expected that the Crusades would find an ardent response
in the king. He went twice to the East, the first time to suffer a long
captivity, and the last time to lose his life.
It was through the crusades that Louis became the owner of the Crown of
Thorns whose possession gave him the highest pleasure that his life
knew. Because of it Paris was enriched by one of its most beautiful
buildings. The Emperor Baldwin, it appears, had borrowed a large sum of
money from some merchants of Venice, giving as security the sacred
relic. When he failed to redeem his pledge the merchants sought to
recoup themselves. Louis regarded as a direct gift from Heaven this
opportunity to secure for himself and his kingdom a relic so holy. The
price asked was about $270,000, an enormous sum for that time. The money
was raised, however, a part of it by forced contributions from the Jews,
who had begun to drift back to France because their usefulness made it
expedient to disregard Philip Augustus’s edict of banishment. Messengers
carefully selected for their probity and piety, brought the Crown from
Italy into France. It was encased in a coffer of gold which was set into
another of silver and that in turn into a box of wood.
The king, dressed as a penitent and barefooted, met the messengers at
the town of Sens, about sixty miles from Paris. There he took the
casket into his own hands and walked with it all the way to the city.
So eager were the crowds to see the procession that it could move but at
the slowest pace. The multitude thickened as the city folk came out from
the walls to join in reverencing the treasure. In order that every one
might rest his eyes upon it Louis caused a lofty stand to be erected in
an open spot and there the foremost of the clergy of France took turns
in elevating the Crown for the crowds to see.
At Vincennes, east of Paris, the monks from the Abbey of Saint Denis
joined the escort. When the advance was renewed Louis again bore the
sacred casket which he carried to a spot of safety in the cathedral of
Notre Dame which was at that time just about approaching completion.
From the cathedral Louis removed the relic to the chapel of Saint
Nicholas, attached to the palace, so that it might be under his close
supervision, and then, in an ecstasy of reverence he planned for its
shelter a building which should be “in no wise like the houses of men,”
the Sainte Chapelle. Only royal chapels received the title “Sainte.”
This exquisitely beautiful structure is indeed royal, as it is truly a
chapel, small and without transepts. The lower part contains the crypt
with ogival vaulting which the builder, Pierre de Montereau, the
architect of
[Illustration: THE SAINTE CHAPELLE, ERECTED BY LOUIS IX.]
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE SAINTE CHAPELLE.]
the refectory of Saint Martin-des-Champs, learned, perhaps, from the
Saracens. This part of the church was used for the religious services of
the servants of the palace. It has been restored recently with the vivid
red and blue and gold of its original decoration. Above is the main body
of the chapel, with no entrance except that into the palace whence it
was Louis’s habit to come twice or thrice during each night to prostrate
himself before the altar. The chapel’s solid walls reach not far above a
man’s head, and above them is a glittering mass of gorgeous glass, some
of it the original. At the eastern end a gilded framework supports the
platform to which the king ascended by a tiny staircase on the left side
to show the sacred relic to the devout. Behind him the lower part of the
western window was of plain glass that the people gathered in the
courtyard might have the same privilege as those inside. The gold and
jeweled covering of the relic was seized during the Revolution. The
Crown, cased in glass, is now in the sacristy of Notre Dame.
The chapel’s glass tells the story of the coming of the relic to France
and has portraits of the king and of Queen Blanche. In the outside
carving as well as in the inside decoration Louis’s fleur-de-lis and his
mother’s towers of Castile are repeated. The R of the _rex_ stands
supported by angels. A wealth of loving ornament enriches the western
façade.
At one side a tiny window cut slanting in the thickness of the wall is
the only opening from the chapel into a private room built on to the
outside by Louis XI who feared assassination if he should attend mass
openly.
The _flèche_ now rising from the roof dates from 1853 and is the fourth
of its kind. The second was burned, and the third destroyed in the
Revolution. It is wonderful that the whole building did not meet a
similar fate, for it was used as a storehouse for flour and received no
gentle treatment. To-day, although still a consecrated edifice, but one
service is held in it during the year. That is called the “Red Mass” and
to it go the judiciaries, clad in their scarlet robes, when the courts
open in the autumn, to celebrate the “Mass of the Holy Ghost.”
Louis’ conscientiousness as a sovereign extended even to the business
details of the city of Paris, now so grown that its traffic required
four bridges to knit the island with the right and left banks. The king
established the Parliament of Paris, not a parliament in the English
sense of the word, but a court of justice. A body of watchmen policed
the streets. The guilds and corporations had a carefully developed
organization. Municipal administration was placed under the care of the
Provost of the Merchants and a body of councillors. The king was
represented by the Provost of Paris. This office had so fallen into
disrepute that it was with difficulty that Louis could secure any one to
undertake the responsibility. How he reformed the office so that the
holder became so eager to serve his fellow-citizens that he slept, all
dressed, in the Châtelet, that he might be ready to do his duty at any
hour, DeJoinville describes.
“The provostship of Paris was at that time sold to the citizens of
Paris, or indeed to any one; and those who bought the office upheld
their children and nephews in wrongdoing; and the young folk relied
in their misdoings on those who occupied the provostship. For which
reason the mean people were greatly downtrodden.
“And because of the great injustice that was done, and the great
robberies perpetuated in the provostship, the mean people did not
dare to sojourn in the king’s land, but went and sojourned in other
provostships and other lordships. And the king’s land was so
deserted that when the provost held his court, no more than ten or
twelve people came thereto.
“With all this there were so many malefactors and thieves in Paris
and the country adjoining that all the land was full of them. The
king, who was very diligent to enquire how the mean people were
governed and protected, soon knew the truth of this matter. So he
forbade that the office of provost in Paris should be sold; and he
gave great and good wages to those who henceforth should hold the
said office. And he abolished all the evil customs harmful to the
people; and he caused enquiry to be made throughout the kingdom to
find men who would execute good and strict justice, and not spare
the rich any more than the poor.
“Then was brought to his notice Stephen Boileau, who so maintained
and upheld the office of provost that no malefactor, nor thief, nor
murderer dared to remain in Paris, seeing that if he did, he was
soon hung or exterminated; neither parentage, nor lineage, nor
gold, nor silver could save him. So the king’s land began to amend,
and people resorted thither for the good justice that prevailed.”