University of Virginia Library

1. PART 1
SAYINGS AND CUSTOMS OF THE KING

IN the name of Almighty God, I, John, Lord of Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne, do cause to be written the life of our Saint Louis, that which I saw and heard during the space of six years that I was in his company on the pilgrimage over seas and after we returned. And before I tell you of his great deeds and knightliness, I will tell you what I saw and heard of his holy words and good teachings, so that they may be found in sequence, to the edification of those that shall hear them.

The love he bore his people appeared in what he said to his son during a sore sickness he had at Fountainebleau; "Fair son," quoth he, "I pray thee, win the love of the people of thy kingdom. For truly, I would rather that a Scot should come out of Scotland and rule the people of the kingdom well and justly, than that thou shouldst govern them ill-advisedly."

The holy man so loved truth that he would not play even the Saracens false, as hereafter you shall hear.

Touching his mouth he was sober, for never in my life did I hear him discourse of dishes, as many rich men do; but contentedly he ate whatever his cooks set before him. In words he was temperate, for never did I hear him speak ill of others, nor ever hear him name the Devil; the which is not common throughout the kingdom, and thereat, I bow, God is ill pleased. His wine he tempered moderately, according as he saw that the wine could bear it. He asked me in Cyprus: why I put no water to my wine? and I told him; It was the physicians' doing, who told me, that I had a thick head and a cold belly, and that it was not in me to get drunk. And he said: They deceived me; for unless I used myself whilst young to drink it watered, if, when old, I desired to do so, I should then be seized with gouts and stomach complaints and never have my health: whereas, if in old age I were to take my wine neat, I should be drunk every evening, and that it was a passing foul thing for a gallant gentleman to get drunk.

He asked me: Whether I wished to be honoured in this world and win Heaven at my death? "Yea!" said I, "Then," said he, "See that you be not wittingly guilty of any word or deed whereof if all the world knew it you could not acknowledge: So I said; So I did."

He bade me avoid contradicting or disagreeing with anything that anyone said before me, provided there would be no blame nor harm to myself in letting it pass; for that hard words provoke quarrels that are the death of thousands.

He used to say: That we ought so to clothe and care for our bodies that sober men of the world might not deem us over-nice, nor young men deem us slovens. And this reminds me of the father of the present king and the embroidered coats-of-arms that they make nowadays. For I told him, that never in my travels over seas did I see embroidered coats, neither belonging to the king nor to anyone else. And he told me, that he had garments embroidered with his arms such as had cost him eight hundred pounds parisis. And I told him that he would have employed them better, had he given them to God, and had made

his clothes of good taffety as his father was wont to do.[l]

He called me once, and said to me: "You are of such subtile perception in all matters touching religion, that I am afraid to talk to you, and for that reason I have called in these friars here, for I wish to ask you a question." The question was, "Seneschal, what sort of thing is God?" I answered: "Such a good thing, sir, that there is none better." "Well answered indeed," said he "for the very same answer is written in this book that I hold. Next I ask you," said he, "Which would you rather: Be a leper, or have committed a deadly sin?" And I, who never lied to him, replied: That I would rather have committed thirty deadly sins than be a leper. And when the friars were

gone, he called me all alone, and made me sit at his feet, and said to me: "What was that you said to me yesterday?" And I replied: That I still said the same. "You talk like a hasty rattlepate," said he, "For there is no leprosy so foul as deadly sin, seeing that a soul in deadly sin is in the image of the Devil. And truly when a man dies, he is healed of the leprosy of the body, but when a man dies that has committed deadly sin, great fear must he needs have lest such leprosy should endure so long as God shall be in Heaven."

He asked me: Whether I washed the feet of the poor on Maundy Thursday? " Sorrow take it, Sir!" said I " The feet of those wretches will I never wash! " ' Truly," quoth he '` That was ill said; for you should not despise that which God did for our instruction. Wherefor I pray you, for the love of God and of me, that henceforth you will accustom yourself to wash them."

He so loved all manner of God-fearing men, that he bestowed the Constableship of France on my lord Giles le Brun, who was not of the realm of France, because he had a great reputation as a God-fearing man. And truly so I think he was.

There was Master Robert of Sorbonne, [1] whom, because of his high reputation for honour and virtue, the King would have to dine at his table.

It chanced one day, that he and I were next one another at table, and the king reproved us, and said: "Speak aloud," said he, " For your fellows here fancy that you are backbiting them. If your discourse at table be of pleasant matters, then speak aloud, or, if not, then keep silence."

When the King was merry, he would say to me: "Come, seneschal, tell me the reasons why a gallant man is better than a Begouin? " Then would begin the argument between Master Robert and me; and when we had disputed a good while, he would give judgment thus; " Master Robert, I would wish to have the name of a gallant man, provided that I were one, and give you all the rest. For a gallant man is such a great thing and such a fine thing, that the very sound of it fills one's mouth."

He used to say, on the contrary, that it was a bad business to borrow from anyone, for that the restoring was so disagreeable that the very

"R's" in it flayed one's throat, and betokened the Devil's rakes, always dragging back the man who set about restoring his neighbour's property. And the Devil is so cunning about it, that in the case of great usurers and robbers, he wiles them into giving to God that which they ought to restore to its owners. He bade me tell King Tibald from him, that he should beware of the house of Preachers of Provence which he was building, lest all the money he was putting into it should be a clog to his soul; for that wise men during their lifetime should deal with their possessions as executors: to wit, that good executors first of all redress any wrongs done by the dead man, and restore whatever was not his, and the remainder of his wealth they spend in alms.

The holy King was at Corbeuil one Pentecost, where there were four-score knights. After dinner, he came down into a meadow by the chapel, and stood in the gateway, talking to the Count of Brittany, the father of the present Duke, whom God preserve! Thither came Master Robert of Sorbonne, seeking me, and took me by the flap of my cloak, and led me to the King, all the other

knights following us. "Master Robert, what do you want with me? " asked I. "I ask you," said he, " If the King were sitting in this meadow, and you went and sat above him on the bench, would you not be to blame?" I answered: Yes. " Then," said he, "You are just as much to blame in being more richly clad than the King; for you clothe yourself in green and minnever,which the King does not." Said I to him: "Master Robert, I am in no wise to blame, though I do dress in green and minnever; for this dress was handed down to me from my father and mother. But you are to blame, for you are the son of villein parents, and have laid aside their dress, and attired yourself in finer cloth than the King." Then I took hold of the lappet of his surcoat and that of the King's, and said: " Look and see if what I say is true." Thereupon the King set to work to defend Master Robert by words with all his might.

Afterwards, my lord the King called my lord Philip his son, (father to the present King,) and King Tibald, and sat down by the door of his oratory, and put his hand on the ground, and said: " Sit down here close beside me, that we may

not be overheard." "Oh, Sir!" said they, "We should not venture to sit so close to you!" "Seneschal," said he, " Sit you here." which I did, so close to him, that my gown touched his. He made them sit down beyond me, and said to them: It was great ill breeding in you, that are my sons, not to do at once what I bade you, and take care that it never happens again." and they said it should not. Then he told me, that he had called us in order to confess to me, that he had been wrong in defending Master Robert against me. "But," said he, "When I saw him in such confusion, I was obliged to come to his assistance. But all the same do not hold by anything I said in Master Robert's defence; for, as the seneschal says, you should dress well and neatly, so that your wives may love you the better, and your followers esteem you the more."

The holy King strove with all his might, by his conversation, to make me believe firmly in the Christian law. He told me once, that some Albigenses' had come to the Count of Montfort, (who at that time was holding the Albigenses' country for the King) and told him they had come to see the

body of our Lord which had turned to flesh and blood in the priest's hands. "Go and see it, you that disbelieve it," said he, "For as for me, I firmly believe it, according to the teaching of Holy Church. And know, that it is I that shall be the winner," said the Count, "because in this mortal life I believe it; wherefor I shall have a crown in Heaven above the angels, for they see it face to face, and so cannot choose but believe it."

He told me that there was a great conference of clergy and Jews in the monastery of Clugny, and there was a knight, to whom the abbot had given bread out of charity, and he desired the abbot to let him have the first word, and with some difficulty he got permission. Then the knight rose, and leaned upon his crutch, and bade them bring forth the greatest scholar and master among the Jews, and they did so. And he put a question to him as follows: " Master," said he, " I ask you, whether you believe that the Virgin Mary, who carried God in her womb and in her arms, brought forth as a maid, and that she is the Mother of God? " And the Jew replied: That he did not believe a word of it. The knight replied: That he was a great fool to trust

himself inside her monastery and house, when he neither believed in nor loved her; " And truly you shall pay for it" quoth he. And thereupon he lifted up his staff, and smote the Jew behind the ear, and stretched him on the ground. And the Jews took to their heels, carrying their master off with them, all wounded. And that was the end of the conference. Then the abbot came to the knight, and said: That he had acted very foolishly; and the knight replied: That he himself had acted still more foolishly, in calling such a conference; for that there were numbers of Christians there, who by the close of the conference would have gone away infidels, through not seeing through the fallacies of the Jews. " And so I tell you," said the King, " That no one ought to argue with them unless he be a very good scholar; but a layman, if he hear the Christian law defamed, should undertake its defence with the sword alone, and that he should use to run them straight through the body as far in as it will go!"

He governed his dominions on this wise: Every day, he heard his Hours by note, and a Requiem mass without note and afterwards the mass for the

day, or for the saint, (if it fell on a saint's day) by note. Every day he used to rest in his bed after dinner; and when he had slept and rested, then the office for the Dead used to be said in his chamber by himself and one of his chaplains before he heard Vespers. In the evening he heard Complines.

He had arranged his business in such a fashion, that my lord of Nesle and the good Count of Soissons, and we others who were about his person after hearing mass used to go and listen to the Pleas of the Gate (which they call now "Petitions"). And when he came back from the minster, he used to send for us, and would sit down at the foot of his bed and make us sit all round him, and would ask us, whether there were any cases to be despatched that could not be despatched without him, and we named them, and he would send for the parties, and ask them: "Why do you not accept what our officers offer you?" and they would say: " It is very little, Sir." And he would talk to them as follows: " You ought really to take what people are ready to concede." And in this way the holy man laboured with all his might to bring them into the right and reasonable course.

Many a time it chanced in summer, that he would go and sit in the forest of Vincennes, after mass, and all who had business would come and talk with him, without hindrance from ushers or anyone. Then he would ask them with his own lips: " Is there anyone here, that has a suit?" and those that had suits stood up. Then he would say: " Keep silence, all of you; and you shall be dealt with in order." Then he would call up my lord Peter of Fontaines and my lord Geoffrey of Villette, and say to one of them: " Despatch me this suit! " and if, in the speech of those who were speaking on behalf of others, he saw that a point might be better put, he himself would put it for them with his own lips. I have seen him sometimes in summer, when to hear his people's suits, he would come into the gardens of Paris, clad in a camel's-hair coat, with a sleeveless surcoat of tiretaine, a cloak of black taffety round his neck, his hair well combed and without a quoif, and a white swansdown hat upon his head. He would cause a carpet to be spread, that we might sit round him; and all the people who had business before him stood round about, and then he caused their suits to be despatched, —

just as I told you before about the forest of Vincennes.

The King's loyalty may be seen in the affair of my lord of Trie, who sent the saint some letters, which stated, that the King had granted the county of Danmartin in Govelle to the heirs of the Countess of Boulogne, who had died recently. The seal of the letter was broken, so that there was nothing left of the King's seal but half the legs of the figure and the stool on which the King had his feet, and he showed it to all us who were of his council, and asked us to assist him with our counsel. We all declared with one accord, that he was in no wise bound to carry out the terms of the letter. Then he bade John Saracen, his chamberlain, bring him the letter which he had given into his keeping. When he had the letter in his hand, he said to us: " Sirs, look at this seal which I used before I went over seas: it is plain to see, that the impress of the broken seal is exactly like the perfect seal, so that I could not venture in all conscience to withhold the county in question." And thereupon he called my lord Reynold of Trie, and said to him: "I deliver the county to you."