ST. LOUIS.
AMONG the names of the European princes associated with the history of
the Holy War, that of St. Louis is one of the most renowned. Although
flourishing in a century which produced personages like Frederick,
Emperor of Germany, and our first great Edward, who far excelled him in
genius and prowess--as wise rulers in peace and mighty chiefs in
war--his saintliness, his patience in affliction, his respect for
justice and the rights of his neighbours, entitle him to a high place
among the men of the age which could boast of so many royal heroes. In
order to comprehend the crusade, of which he was leader, it is necessary
to refer briefly to the character and career of the good and pious king,
who, in the midst of disaster and danger, exhibited the courage of a
hero and the resignation of a martyr.
It was on the day of the Festival of St. Mark, in the year 1215, that
Blanche of Castille, wife of the eighth Louis of France, gave birth, at
Poissy, to an heir to the crown, which Hugh Capet had, three centuries
earlier, taken from the feeble heir of Charlemagne. On the death of his
father, Louis, then in his twelfth year, became King of France, at a
time when it required a man with a strong hand to maintain the
privileges of the crown against the great nobles of the kingdom.
Fortunately for the young monarch Providence had blessed him with a
mother, who, whatever her faults and failings--and chroniclers have not
spared her reputation--brought to the terrible task of governing in a
feudal age a high spirit and a strong will, and applied herself
earnestly to the duty of bringing up her son in the way in which he
should walk, and educating him in such a manner as to prepare him for
executing the high functions which he was destined to fulfil. While,
with the aid of her chivalrous admirer, the Count of Champagne, and the
counsel of a cardinal-legate--with whom, by-the-bye, she was accused of
being somewhat too familiar--Blanche of Castille maintained the rights
of the French monarchy against the great vassals of France, she reared
her son with the utmost care. She entrusted his education to excellent
masters, appointed persons eminent for piety to attend to his religious
instruction, and evinced profound anxiety that he should lead a virtuous
and holy life.
'Rather,' she once said, 'would I see my son in his grave, than learn
that he had committed a mortal sin.'
As time passed on, Blanche of Castille had the gratification of finding
that her toil and her anxiety were not in vain. Lotus, indeed, was a
model whom other princes, in their teens, would have done well to copy.
His piety, and his eagerness to do what was right and to avoid what was
wrong, raised the wonder of his contemporaries. He passed much of his
time in devotional exercises, and, when not occupied with religious
duties, ever conducted himself as if with a consciousness that the eye
of his Maker was upon him, and that he would one day have to give a
strict account of all his actions. Every morning he went to hear prayers
chanted, and mass and the service of the day sung; every afternoon he
reclined on his couch, and listened while one of his chaplains repeated
prayers for the dead; and every evening he heard complines.
Nevertheless, Louis did not, like such royal personages as our Henry
VI., allow his religious exercises so wholly to monopolise his time or
attention as to neglect the duties which devolved upon him as king. The
reverse was the case. After arriving at manhood he convinced the world
that he was well qualified to lead men in war, and to govern them in
peace.
It happened that, in the year 1242, Henry King of England, who was
several years older than Louis, became ambitious of regaining the
continental territory wrested from his father, John, by Philip Augustus;
and the Count de la Marche, growing malecontent with the government of
France, formed a confederacy against the throne, and invited Henry to
conduct an army to the Continent. Everything seemed so promising, and
the confederacy so formidable, that Henry, unable to resist the
temptation of recovering Normandy and Anjou, crossed the sea, landed at
Bordeaux, and prepared for hostilities. At first, the confederates were
confident of succeeding in their objects; but, ere long, they discovered
that they had mistaken their position, and the character of the prince
whom they were defying.
In fact, Louis soon proved that he was no 'carpet knight.' Assembling an
army, he buckled on his mail, mounted his charger; and placing himself
at the head of his forces, marched to encounter his enemies. Reaching
the banks of the Charente, he offered the confederates battle, near the
bridge of Taillebourg; but his challenge was not accepted. By this time
the confederates had lost faith in their enterprise; and while De la
Marche was meditating a reconciliation with Louis, Henry, accusing the
count of having deceived, and being about to betray, him, retreated
precipitately, and never drew rein till he reached the village of
Saintonge.
But Louis was unwilling to allow his royal foe to escape so easily. Nor,
indeed, could Henry without reluctance fly from the peril he had
provoked. At all events, on reaching Saintonge, the English turned to
bay, and a battle began. But the odds were overwhelming; and, though the
Anglo-Norman barons fought with characteristic courage, they were
speedily worsted, and under the necessity of making for Bordeaux.
From the day on which this battle was fought, it was no longer doubtful
that Louis was quite able to hold his own; and neither foreign kings nor
continental counts cared to disturb his government or defy his power. In
fact, the fame of the King of France became great throughout
Christendom, and inspired the hopes of the Christians of the East.
Nor was it merely as a warrior that Louis signalised himself among his
contemporaries. At the time when he was attending, with exemplary
regularity, to his religious devotions, and keeping watch over the
security of his dominions, he was devoting himself assiduously to his
duties as sovereign and to the administration of justice.
One day, when Louis was at the castle of Hieros, in Provence, a
Cordelier friar approached.
'Sire,' said the friar, 'I have read of unbelieving princes in the Bible
and other good books; yet I have never read of a kingdom of believers or
unbelievers being ruined, but from want of justice being duly
administered. Now,' continued the friar, 'I perceive the king is going
to France; let him administer justice with care, that our Lord may
suffer him to enjoy his kingdom, and that it may remain in peace and
tranquillity all the days of his life, and that God may not deprive him
of it with shame and dishonour.'
Louis listened attentively to the Cordelier, and the friar's words sank
deep into his mind. From that date he gave much attention to the
administration of justice, and took especial care to prevent the poor
being wronged by their more powerful neighbours. On summer days, after
hearing mass, he was in the habit of repairing to the gardens of his
palace, seating himself on a carpet, and listening to such as wished to
appeal to him; at other times he went to the wood of Vincennes, and
there, sitting under an oak, listened to their statements with
attention and patience. No ceremony was allowed to keep the poor man
from the king's justice-seat.
'Whoever has a complaint to make,' Louis was wont to say, 'let him now
make it;' and when there were several who wished to be heard, he would
add, 'My friends, be silent for awhile, and your causes shall be
despatched one after another.'
When Louis was in his nineteenth year, Blanche of Castille recognised
the expediency of uniting him to a princess worthy of sharing the French
throne, and bethought her of the family of Raymond Berenger, Count of
Provence, one of the most accomplished men in Europe, and whose
countess, Beatrice of Savoy, was even more accomplished than her
husband; Raymond and Beatrice had four daughters, all remarkable for
their wit and beauty, and all destined to be queens. Of these four
daughters, the eldest, Margaret of Provence, who was then thirteen, was
selected as the bride of Louis; and, about two years before her younger
sister, Eleanor, was conducted to England to be espoused by King Henry,
Margaret arrived in Paris, and began to figure as Queen of France.
The two princesses of Provence who had the fortune to form such high
alliances found themselves in very different positions. Eleanor did just
as she pleased, ruled her husband, and acted as if everything in England
had been created for her gratification. Margaret's situation, though
more safe, was much less pleasant. In her husband's palace she could not
boast of being in the enjoyment even of personal liberty. In fact,
Queen Blanche was too fond of power to allow that which she had acquired
to be needlessly imperilled; and, apprehensive that the young queen
should gain too much influence with the king, she deliberately kept the
royal pair separate. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the domestic tyranny
under which they suffered. When Louis and Margaret made royal
progresses, Blanche of Castille took care that her son and
daughter-in-law were lodged in separate houses. Even in cases of
sickness the queen-mother did not relent. On one occasion, when Margaret
was ill and in the utmost danger, Louis stole to her chamber. While he
was there, Blanche entered, and he endeavoured to conceal himself.
Blanche, however, detected him, shook her head, and forcibly pushed him
out of the door.
'Be off, sir,' said she, sternly; 'you have no right here.'
'Madam, madam,' exclaimed Margaret, in despair, 'will you not allow me
to see my husband, either when I am living, or when I am dying?' and the
poor queen fainted away.
It was while the young saint-king and his fair Provencal spouse were
enduring this treatment at the hands of the old queen-mother that events
occurred which fired Louis with the idea of undertaking a crusade, and
gave Margaret an excellent excuse for escaping from the society of the
despotic dowager who had embittered her life, and almost broken her
heart.
One day, when Louis was recovering from the effects of a fever, which
had so thoroughly prostrated him, that at times his attendants believed
he was dead, he ordered a Cross to be stitched to his garments.
'How is this,' asked Blanche of Castille, when she came to visit her son
on his sick bed.
'Madam,' whispered the attendants, 'the king has, out of gratitude for
his recovery, taken the Cross, and vowed to combat the infidel.'
'Alas! alas!' exclaimed Blanche, terrified, 'I am struck as fearfully as
if I had seen him dead.'