A ROYAL VISIT.
THE countenance of the King of France did not belie his heart. He was
sad, and much more dejected than when he was in captivity and chains at
Mansourah, bullied by the Saracens, and threatened with the bernicles.
Nor was there any affectation in his continuing to wear the cross on his
shoulder; as he proved, sixteen years later, when he undertook his
ill-fated expedition to Tunis, and died, on a bed of ashes, amid the
ruins of Carthage, looking up to heaven, and exclaiming with his latest
breath, 'I will enter into Thy house; I will worship in Thy holy
tabernacle!'
Meanwhile the saint-king appeared inconsolable, and refused to be
comforted. Even the affectionate welcome accorded him by his people
failed to dispel his gloom or cheer his soul. Day and night he brooded
over his defeats and disasters, and sighed dolefully as his memory
recalled the humiliation to which, in his person, the cause of
Christianity had been exposed at the hands of the Moslem.
Fortunately, at that time, Henry, King of England, being at Bordeaux,
offered Louis a visit; and the saintly monarch, rousing himself to
welcome his royal brother-in-law, made preparations for his reception.
Moreover, when Henry's approach was announced, Louis mounted and went
forth to meet his guest; and, ere long, the King of England with a
magnificent train appeared in sight.
Henry was considerably older than Louis. Indeed, he had now attained the
age of forty-seven. But his frame was vigorous; he had always enjoyed
robust health; and, as he had taken life easily, time and trouble had
not wrought so much havoc on him as on the French monarch. He was of the
middle height, and compactly built, and would have been accounted
handsome, but that one of his eyelids hung down in such a way as to
conceal part of the eyeball, and rather spoiled a face which otherwise
would have been pleasant to look upon. But, such as his person was,
Henry did not neglect its adornment. He had all a Plantagenet's love of
splendour, and the gorgeousness of his dress was such as to excite the
wonder of his contemporaries. By his right hand rode his spouse, Eleanor
of Provence, sister of the Queen of France, no longer young, but still
preserving, in face and form, much of the beauty and grace which, twenty
years earlier, made the name of the second daughter of Raymond Berenger
celebrated at the courts of Europe.
Behind the King and Queen of England, on a black steed, which he
bestrode with remarkable grace, rode their son, Edward, taller by the
head and shoulders than other tall men, and already, though not out of
his teens, renowned as one of the bravest and handsomest princes in
Christendom. With him was his very juvenile wife, Eleanor of Castille,
whom he had recently espoused at Burgos, and brought over the Pyrenees
to Bordeaux, on his way to England.
But the procession did not stop here; for, as the chronicler tells us,
'the King of England had in his own retinue a thousand handsome horses,
ridden by men of dignity and rank, besides waggons and sumpter cattle,
as well as a large number of choice horses, so that the unusual novelty
of the array caused great astonishment to the French.'
The meeting of the two kings was all that could have been desired by the
most enthusiastic advocate of the French alliance who could have been
found in England; and, 'at sight of one another, they rushed into each
other's arms, and after mutual greeting, entered into conversation.'
Naturally enough, the first subject on which they touched was the
crusade from which Louis had just returned; and the saint-king seemed
relieved to meet with a man to whom he could, without derogating from
his dignity, unbosom his griefs.
'My friend,' said Louis, mournfully, 'you cannot imagine how pleasant
your voice is to my ears; let us enjoy ourselves in talking together,
for never, perhaps, shall we have such an opportunity. In truth,' added
he, as they rode on side by side towards Paris, 'it is no easy matter to
tell how much bitterness of spirit I endured while on my pilgrimage
through love of Christ.'
'I believe it, Louis, my cousin,' said Henry quickly.
'And yet,' continued Louis, 'albeit everything turned against me, I
return thanks to the Most High; for, on reflection, I rejoice more in
the patience which God granted me, than if the whole world were to be
made subject to my rule. And yet, my friend, when I think of all my
mishaps, my heart saddens and my soul is heavy.'
'Cousin,' said Henry, kindly, 'beware of casting yourself into a
life-wearying sorrow; for holy men will tell you that it is the
stepmother of souls, and that it absorbs spiritual joy, and generates
prejudice to the Holy Spirit. Recall to your mind the patience of Job,
the endurance of Eustace.' And Henry proceeded to relate much that he
knew, and much that he did not comprehend, of the history of both, and
how, in the end, God rewarded them.
'My friend,' said Louis, 'if I were the only one to suffer the trouble
and disgrace, and if my sins did not fall on the church universal, I
could bear all with equanimity; but, woe is me, through me the whole of
Christendom is enveloped in confusion and shame.'
'And, cousin,' said Henry, 'I perceive that you still wear the symbol of
the cross on your raiment.'
'I do,' replied Louis, 'because I have not concluded my pilgrimage; I
have only suspended it; therefore bear I the sacred symbol. And you
also, Henry, you have taken the cross, and vowed to fight for the Holy
Sepulchre.'
'Cousin,' answered Henry, gravely, but frankly, 'when I heard that you
were a prisoner in the hands of the Saracens, I did take the cross and
vow to go to the rescue; but now that, by God's grace, you are at
liberty, I cannot but think that it is my duty to remain at home and
minister to the welfare of my subjects.'
'And yet,' urged Louis, 'we are told that he who will not take up his
cross and come with me, is not worthy of me; and I know you, Henry, to
be a man who, albeit you are negligent in punishing Jews and heretics,
are distinguished for attention to the things that belong to your
eternal peace, and by your devotion to the Lord.'
'In truth, cousin,' replied Henry, not sorry perhaps, to leave the
subject of the crusade, 'I am regular, at least, in my religious
exercises; for it is my custom, every day, to hear three masses, with
the notes, and, as I wish to hear more, I assiduously assist at the
celebration of private masses; and when the priest elevates the Host, I
usually hold the hand of the priest and kiss it.'
'Nevertheless, my friend,' remarked Louis, 'I cannot but deem that the
attention ought not always to be devoted to the hearing of masses, but
that we ought to hear sermons as often as possible.'
'Mayhap,' said Henry. 'And yet, by God's help, I would rather see a
friend often than hear of him, even although I should hear nothing
spoken of him but good.'
As the two kings conversed they entered Paris side by side, and the
sight which met the eyes of the English might well, indeed, raise their
admiration. The city, with its squares and bridges and churches and
houses built of gypsum, was splendidly decorated with bowers of leaves
and flowers; many of the mansions were three and four storeys in height,
and the windows were crowded with people of both sexes, gaily dressed,
and excited with the spectacle. Everything wore a holiday guise; and the
citizens and the scholars of the University, especially those of English
birth, suspending their readings and disputations, came forth in crowds,
carrying branches of trees, and attended by bands of music. Everybody
appeared eager to accord the royal guests a hearty welcome; and Louis,
after thanking the scholars for showing his friends so much honour,
turned to Henry.
'My friend,' said he, 'I place Paris at your disposal. Where will you be
pleased to take up your abode? There is my palace in the middle of the
city; or, if you prefer taking up your residence at the Old Temple,
which is more roomy, it shall be so arranged.'
'Verily,' answered Henry, 'I think I must choose the Old Temple; for I
hear it is roomy enough to lodge an army, and my company, as you see, is
somewhat numerous; and there it is my purpose to give a banquet on the
morrow, and I trust that you and your princes and nobles will honour it
with your presence.'
'After which,' said Louis, 'you must come as my guest to my palace. Nay,
nay,' continued he, as Henry sought to excuse himself, 'let it be so:
for it is proper for me to perform all the duties of courtesy and
hospitality. In my own kingdom I am lord,' he added, with a smile; 'and
I will be master in my own house.'
'On my faith,' said Walter Espec to Guy Muschamp, as gallantly the
brothers-in-arms rode in the train of the saint-king, 'this is a great
day for England!'
'In truth it is,' replied Guy, gaily. 'Methinks there are Englishmen
enough in Paris to take the city.'