upright upon Bavieca, and the frame being painted to represent armour, it
looked really as if he were alive. A mournful procession went out at
midnight from the gate towards Castille. First the banner of the Cid was
carried, guarded by five hundred knights; then came one hundred more,
around the body of their lord; and lastly, Ximena followed sorrowfully with
all her company, and three hundred knights in the rear. By the time they
had all passed out the summer night was spent, and it was broad daylight.
Alvar Funez now fell upon the Moors with the forces that remained in
Valencia; and so great was the terror and uproar he caused that they fled
towards the sea, leaving their riches for the spoils of the Christians. The
Moors who had retired to the suburb saw the procession pass, and thought
that their lord had gone forth alive. But when they entered the city from
whence all the Spanish knights had gone, they marvelled at the strange
silence in the streets, until they saw written on the walls in Arabic that
the Cid Campeador was dead. From that day Valencia remained in the power of
the Moors until it was won by King Jayme of Arragon, in the year 1238; but
the city was always known by the name of "Valencia of the Cid."
The body of Ruy Diaz was placed in his ivory chair at the right of the
altar of Saint Peter in the church of Cardena. It was clothed in purple
cloth which had been given to him by the Soldan, and remained thus more
than ten years. When that time had passed it was buried in a vault beside
the grave of Dona Ximena, who only survived him three years. And Bavieca,
his favourite horse, was buried not far from his master, under some trees
in front of the convent of Saint Peter of Cardena.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] Like the Alhambra court in the Crystal Palace.
[8] _Sol_, Spanish for sun.
[9] _Tablas_, in the Spanish tables, probably the game of draughts.
[10] See Southey's "Chronicle."
LOUIS IX., KING OF FRANCE.
The good king Louis the Ninth, commonly called St. Louis, because he led so
holy a life, was born at Poissy, in the year 1215, whilst his grandfather,
Philip Augustus, was still on the throne of France. Poissy was a beautiful
place, just as Fontainebleau is now, where the kings of France used to go
and hunt, and enjoy the sweet fresh air; and the queens passed many happy
days with their little children, away from the cares and the splendour of
the court.
Louis was always of a meek and gentle disposition, truthful and upright.
His mother, Blanche of Castille, watched over him tenderly herself, and
took care to place around him as early as possible the holiest and most
learned men in France, in the hope that through their influence he might
grow up to be a good king. Blanche was a woman of great piety, and she was
very clever and beautiful besides; she had many children, but although
Louis was always her favourite amongst them all, she did not indulge him
either in luxury or pleasure, and used often to say to him, "My son, I love
you more than I can tell; yet I would rather see you lying dead at my feet
than know you were guilty of a mortal sin."
Louis did indeed try earnestly to be good, and to remember the words of
his mother; he was obedient to his instructors, and is said to have
understood Latin well, and to have been versed in the works of the fathers
of the Church, and in the history of the kings who reigned before him; and
that was knowing a great deal, for the times he lived in were called "the
dark ages," because so very little was learnt or known, especially in
Europe. His amusements were hunting and fishing, and playing at chess, but
he did not care for these as he cared for the services of the church,
attending them daily with his little brothers, and loving the holy chants
and hymns he heard there more than any songs of merriment.
Louis was only eleven years old when his father, King Louis the Eighth,
died, after a reign of less than four years. He had then four brothers
younger than himself--Robert, John, Alphonse, and Charles; and one little
sister named Isabel. As he was so very young, his mother, Queen Blanche,
governed his kingdom for him, and she had many troubles to contend with, on
account of the quarrels and revolts of some of the most powerful nobles in
the land. Several of these refused to attend the coronation of Louis, which
took place at Rheims, after he had been knighted, according to the custom
of the time, at Soissons. The ceremony was very solemn; Queen Blanche would
not let it be made an occasion of rejoicing, because her heart was so full
of sorrow for the death of her husband; and the day after she took Louis to
Paris, and began at once to think what would be the best measures for
securing his safety and the welfare of the country.
It was at the siege of Bellesme that Louis gained his first experience in
war, when he was only twelve years of age. The Count de Bretagne, foremost
of the rebellious nobles, had invaded the territory of the king, and was
causing great misery to the country people by laying waste their land and
destroying their villages. To chastise him, and bring him to obedience,
Queen Blanche set off in the depth of winter with her son Louis and only a
few followers, to lay siege to the Castle of Bellesme, where the count had
first set up his standard of rebellion.
The snow lay deep on the ground, and icicles hung from the trees along the
road-side: the cold was intense, and the march was difficult in the short
winter days, but little Louis was as brave as he was gentle, and cared
nothing for the cold and discomfort, nor did he tremble the least at the
idea of the coming affray; his mother had taught him to endure manfully
hardships and pain and fatigue, and to trust in God, whatever danger was at
hand.
The Castle of Bellesme exists no longer; its ruins have long crumbled away:
in those days it was a strong fortress, surrounded by thick walls flanked
with towers. The Count of Bretagne was inside the castle with all the
bravest of his men, and the queen's party made two assaults upon it in
vain. The cold had numbed the energies of the knights and the soldiers in
the camp, and they were very nearly frozen to death. Queen Blanche then
published a decree which promised large rewards to all persons who should
cut down the trees in the forests around, and bring the wood to the camp.
The peasants were soon seen joyfully bringing the wood on their shoulders
and in carts: enormous fires were kindled, and the warmth so quickly
restored the spirits of the besiegers, that before two days had passed, the
greater part of the fortification was thrown down, and the haughty Count de
Bretagne, seeing no hope of succour, was obliged to surrender. Queen
Blanche and her little son treated the garrison with great kindness when
they came out; and a treaty was soon after made, by which it was agreed
that Louis's brother John should marry, when he grew up, the daughter of
the Count de Bretagne.
Whilst Louis was growing out of childhood, and striving day by day to
become more holy in the sight of God, the rebellions of the nobles were
continually breaking out afresh, and had to be put down by force of arms,
or the crown would have lost much of its power. This chapter, however, is
not to be a record of all the disturbances that occurred in France during
the early part of the good king's reign, but rather a description of the
events which brought to light most strikingly his piety, his courage, and
his patience.
In the year 1233 Louis was persuaded by his mother to bestow his hand on
Marguerite, daughter of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence. Raymond had
four daughters, and Marguerite was the most beautiful and talented of them
all. Her sister Eleanor was married soon after to Henry the Third of
England, and another sister, named Beatrice, to Louis's brother Charles,
Count of Anjou.
The royal marriage was celebrated with great magnificence at Sens; and when
Louis was twenty years of age he took the reins of government into his own
hands: nevertheless Queen Blanche continued to influence him by her advice,
and was obeyed by him until her death, on all occasions save one, as will
be seen hereafter.
The peace of the country was not really established until the year 1239,
when some of the quarrelsome nobles had gone on a crusade to the Holy Land.
The enterprise did not succeed; the Christian army was entrapped and
defeated by the Saracens, and Jerusalem became a possession of the Sultan
of Egypt. The king was deeply grieved at the failure; he was always
thinking of the miseries and oppressions the Christians were forced to
endure in the East, and resolved to go and help them as soon as he could
leave his country in prosperity. When the rumour of this was spread in
Palestine, the sheik, or old man of the mountain, singled out the King of
France for his victim, and despatched two of his assassins to Paris,
thinking thus to put an end to all idea of a fresh crusade.
Having boasted, however, of his intended deed before some of the knights
templars, he was told by them that if he put Louis to death, his brothers
would certainly avenge the crime, and draw upon him the ill will of many
nations besides France. The sheik now became as anxious to preserve the
king's life as he had been to take it, and sent off in a great hurry two of
his emirs to the court of France to warn Louis of his danger. The king
received the intelligence calmly, and only instituted another company of
guards, who were armed with maces of brass. But when the assassins could
not be discovered, notwithstanding the marks by which the emirs declared
they would be known, these men hastened to Marseilles, and luckily arrived
there before the Arabs set foot on shore. When they had told them how the
sheik had determined not to take the king's life, they conducted them to
Paris, and all four were received with kindness by Louis, and went back to
the East much impressed with the magnificence of the French court; for
although the king loved neither luxury nor pleasure, his court was always
kept up with dignity and splendour. The Sire de Joinville, who was
twenty-two years in his company, tells us how, at a great festival held at
Saumur, which was called a plenary court, the king wore a coat of blue
samite, a species of satin, with overcoat and mantle of crimson samite,
bordered with ermine, and strangely enough, a cotton cap on his head, which
did not become him at all. His hair, which was fair, he wore short,
according to the custom of the time. At this feast there were at least
three thousand knights present, and so many robes of cloth of gold and of
silk had never been seen before. King Louis, his brothers, and the King of
Navarre sat at one table, Joinville himself carving for them; the queen
mother and her ladies sat at another, and the archbishops and bishops at a
third; and to guard the king's table stood three of the greatest barons in
the land; and to guard them stood thirty knights, in garments of rich
silken stuff; and these again had a retinue of the royal officers behind
them.
During the whole time that the plenary courts were held, the king was
obliged to dine in public, and it was an old custom, that before the
dinner was ended, three heralds at arms, each with a rich cap in his hand,
cried out three times, "Bounty of the most powerful King!" and then threw
gold and silver to the people, so that the poor had their share of the
rejoicing as well as the rich.
The king was seized with a dangerous illness at Pontoise in the year 1244.
This was a very great sorrow for his people, since it was feared that he
would die, and they joined in solemn processions all over the kingdom, and
went to the churches to pray to the Almighty to restore him to health.
Queen Blanche was the saddest of all, and passed her time between the sick
chamber of her son, and the foot of the altar, where she knelt for hours in
silent prayer.
When Louis felt that he was getting weaker, he sent for all the members of
his household, and thanked them for their services; after which he
recommended them to serve God with earnest and faithful hearts. Then he
sank into a lethargy, which those who were watching by his bedside at first
mistook for death. The lethargy lasted several days, and then the king gave
signs of returning life. The first words he spoke after opening his eyes
were these:--"By the grace of God the light of the East has shone upon me
from the height of heaven, and recalled me from the dead." He summoned the
Bishop of Paris to his presence, and required him to affix the cross to his
shoulder, as a sign that he bound himself to go on the crusade.
The sorrow which had been forgotten when the king gave signs of recovery,
now broke out afresh. The two queens, Blanche and Marguerite, threw
themselves on their knees, and implored him with many tears not to go on
the crusade; even the bishops, who stood by, tried to persuade him not to
engage in so difficult an enterprise, but all in vain. Louis would take no
nourishment until the cross was really fastened to his shoulder; and his
people heard of the vow he had taken in gloom and regret, for they thought
if he once set sail for the Holy Land, they would never see him again.
The king did not really recover until several months had passed, and then
he wrote to the Christians in the East to tell them that he was coming to
their aid. But it was a long time yet before he was able to set out,
because he loved his people very dearly, and wanted to provide everything
for their comfort and happiness during his absence, when his mother, Queen
Blanche, was to rule over them in his stead. He persuaded the most
turbulent of the nobles to go with him on the crusade, and when the best
measures had been taken for securing the peace of the kingdom, he made
known that he was ready to redress every injury he had offered, it being
the custom then for all good crusaders to make their peace with God and man
before they embarked in their enterprise.
Louis then went with his brothers, Robert of Artois and Charles of Anjou,
to the church of Saint Denis to receive his pilgrim's scrip and staff, and
the oriflamme, or sacred banner of Saint Denis. This was a banner of
flame-coloured silk, which was always carried before the French armies on
solemn occasions for the encouragement of the soldiers. The king, having
requested all holy persons to pray that his undertaking might prove
successful, came back to Paris, and heard mass at the great church of Notre
Dame, and then went out of the city he was not to behold again for so long,
followed by the clergy, the nobles, and multitudes of the common people.
The crimson and the samite, the gold-embroidered garments with the ermines,
were now laid aside for a plain grey robe trimmed with grey and white fur.
The trappings of the king's horses were no longer adorned with gold, but
the steel of their harness was polished until it shone like silver. Louis
computed before he left France how much his former luxuries had cost him
yearly, and then caused the amount to be regularly distributed to the poor.
At Cluny, Queen Blanche bade her son a long sad farewell: it was the first
time he had ever thwarted her wishes by refusing to give up the crusade,
when she urged that a vow made in a time of extreme weakness was not
binding. His young wife could not bring herself to part with him, and
declared she would follow him to the end of the world.
When all was ready, the king, with his brothers Robert and Charles, Queen
Marguerite, and the young Countess of Anjou, and a vast number of crusaders
of all nations, embarked at Aigues-Mortes, a port on the Mediterranean,
which had been constructed for the occasion. They took the direction of
Cyprus, and the winds being favourable, all the vessels except one, which
was unhappily shipwrecked, reached the island in safety. Here the crusaders
remained during the winter. For two years before they arrived, the king's
people had been bringing wine and various provisions for the army from the
most fertile countries of Europe, and had laid up their store in the
island. The tubs of wine they had piled one upon the other, until they
looked like great barns; and the wheat and the barley lay in heaps in the
fields, green on the outside, where the warm rains falling softly upon them
had made them sprout. The crusaders found an abundant supply of food in
Cyprus, without having recourse to their stores, and when in the spring
they wanted to set out for Egypt, they took off the outer covering of the
heaps, and saw the wheat and the barley beneath, as fresh as if it had just
been cut.
The departure from the island was fixed for Ascension Day in the year 1249.
The crusaders embarked towards evening at the port called Limesson, where
they had landed. The vessels large and small amounted to 1,650, and were
thronged with a vast assembly of people of all callings and nations, 2,800
of them being knights. The next day the king sent a sealed packet into
every vessel, with orders for it to remain unopened until the fleet had set
sail; the purport of this was that they should proceed direct to Damietta.
The wind, however, blew against them, and forced them to return to the
port; and when they had got out to sea again a few days after, a violent
tempest arose from the side of Egypt, and scattered all the vessels. Louis
himself was obliged to go back to the port of Limesson, and found on
arriving there that his fleet was diminished by one hundred and twenty
vessels, and that the number of knights was reduced to seven hundred! But
he would not suffer the followers who remained to him to be cast down, and
on Trinity Sunday they set sail once more, and although in continual dread
of another storm, they went on their way safely, until a sailor who knew
the coasts of Egypt, and served as a guide, warned them that they were
before Damietta, the great stronghold of the Saracens in Egypt. All the
other vessels now crowded around the one which bore the king, who stood up
among his people calm and trustful, encouraging them to persevere for the
love of God, and not to flinch in the moment of danger.
Saleh, the Sultan, was at some distance from Damietta; he was supposed to
be dying, and had confided the care of his army to the emir Facardin. The
Saracens had seen the sea covered with masts and sails by seven o'clock in
the morning, and had rung the bell of their great mosque to spread the
alarm in the city: the Christians heard the sound across the sea in the
clear summer air. Facardin ordered four Corsair vessels to approach the
fleet, but three of these ventured too near, and were overwhelmed by
showers of stones from the larger vessels. The fourth went back to convey
the tidings that the King of France had come with a number of foreign
princes.
At mid-day the fleet of the Christians cast anchor in the roads of
Damietta. The port was full of men-of-war, and the flat country of Egypt
was covered with rich tents, whilst crowds of people on foot and on horse
stood along the shore, sounding their twisted horns, and their great
cymbals, two of which were a sufficient load for an elephant; and making,
as the Sire de Joinville affirms, "a sound horrible to be heard!"
A council was held on board the king's vessel, at which it was resolved to
land the next day, although only a portion of the fleet had as yet arrived
in the roads; but Louis thought that delay would inspire fear, and perhaps
afford the Saracens the opportunity of destroying his army by degrees. So
when it got dark, the crusaders lighted a great number of torches, and kept
watch all night; and they confessed their sins one to another, and prayed
for those they loved, and had left behind in Europe; and as many as had
quarrelled made friends, that they might be ready for death, if it should
meet them in the struggle on the morrow.
At daybreak they lifted anchor, and sailed for the island of Giza, which
was joined to Damietta by a bridge of boats across the river Nile. The king
commanded his people to get down into the flat boats they had brought with
them, because the large vessels could not approach the shore: the boat
Joinville was in soon distanced the one which bore the Oriflamme, and was
first to gain the land.
Suddenly the air was darkened by a flight of arrows from the bows of the
Saracens. Louis, seeing this, gave orders for each man to disembark as he
could, and jumped from his boat into the water, covered as he was by his
armour, with his shield on his breast, and his sword in his hand. The water
was deeper there than elsewhere, and he was immersed up to his shoulders,
but the sight of the Oriflamme safely landed encouraged him in his efforts,
and he got to the shore before any of the others. Although countless swords
and pike points were aimed at him as he landed, the good king did not
forget to kneel down for a moment on the sand, to thank the Almighty for
having preserved him thus far; then, rising, he would have rushed on the
Saracens at once and alone, if his knights, who were now gaining their
footing on shore, had not prevented him.
All the rest now followed; Louis put his people in battle array as they
landed, and ordered an attack to be made on some of the enemy's larger
vessels. Before the day was ended the Christian army had driven the
Saracens from the western shores of the Nile, and had got possession of the
bridge of boats; they would have pursued their foes, but night coming on,
the king sounded a retreat, and encamped on the ground he had conquered.
Meanwhile the poor queen and the Countess of Anjou had been in terrible
anxiety and distress when they watched from their vessel afar the
multitudes rushing into the water, and could not tell whether their
husbands were alive or drowned. And great must have been their joy when the
news was conveyed to him that those they loved so dearly were safe on
shore, and that their efforts, as yet, had been crowned with success.
Early the next morning, which was Sunday, the king was giving orders for
the siege of Damietta, when two Christian captives came to the camp and
told him that the city was deserted. The king could scarcely credit their
words, and sent one of his knights to the spot to see if they were really
true. The knight returned with the same account; the Saracens had gone back
to Damietta in great distress the evening before, and on their arrival had
heard that the Sultan was dead.
The rumour struck dismay into the heart of Facardin, and he only waited to
put the Christian slaves who were in the city to death, and to burn the
bazaars where the provisions were sold, and then he went out at the gates
the same night with his army and the garrison; old men and women, children
and sick persons following in the rear of the craven-hearted troops, until
by daylight the whole city was deserted.
Damietta was now open to the Christians; they had only to cross the bridge
of boats and enter its gates. The king in his thankfulness thought that he
ought not to enter the city as a triumphant warrior, but humbly, and clad
as a pilgrim; and he walked thither barefoot, followed by the King of
Cyprus, who had joined the crusade, the patriarch of Jerusalem, the legate,
and all the bishops and priests who had accompanied the army. A mosque,
where the Saracens had worshipped, was hastily converted into a Christian
church, and a solemn chant of thanksgiving ascended from its altar. The
crusaders had indeed reason to be thankful because Damietta was so strong a
place, protected by a double wall on the side of the Nile, and by a triple
one on the side of the flat country. The king determined to remain there
until the autumn, and thus avoid marching in the great heat, and the danger
which his army would be exposed to from the rising of the Nile, for the
river begins to rise in the month of June, and mounts higher and higher
until September, overflowing the land along its course so that it looks
like a great marsh, and the villages and trees appear like islands above
the water. By November the fields are dry again and covered with a rich
brown slime, and the people then begin to sow their corn. The soil being
so fertile, in the winter months the valley of the Nile presents the
appearance of a beautiful garden; indeed, the natives are obliged sometimes
to mix sand with the loam, or the fruits and vegetables would grow and
ripen too quickly.