To the Virgin he made a fervent prayer Invoking for aye her watchful care.

Then to Palestine he turned.

14. Through ten long years the knight pursued His weary pilgrimage; Then buckled he on his armor bright, With heart beating free and light, He hath boune him for the fight, A gallant and unknown knight Withouten heritage.

15. Much they marvelled then to see A warrior, unknown as he, Such deeds of valor do.

They wist he was no mortal wight, But some weird magician sprite, When in the thickest of the fight The Sultan dread he slew.

16. They have broughten him to the christian king With gladness and great welcoming, And honor and praise had he; But his object fell he did obtain, For his mighty enemy he hath slain.

He donned his pilgrim weeds again, And his wanderings pursued.

17. The scorching sun, with a feverish glare, On the burning sands cast radiance clear; When weary and faint the knight drew near, Where stately and tall a castle fair From a green oasis rose.

The cool palms waving in golden light, With music of murmuring fountains bright, Beckoning called the fainting knight To bowers of repose.

18. He pa.s.sed the portals of the hall, And stood 'mong squires and good knights tall, Holding it seemed high festival.

19. A lady beautiful to see, Sat 'neath a gorgeous canopy.

She was queen of that countrie, Lady of generous chivalry, And eke of lowly charity.

The holy Palmers with reverence, Welcomed she to her residence; Gentle and kind was she.

20. But the knight would not be comforted, For restless recollection shed A sadness over all.

In silent mood he wandered Through tower and lofty hall.

21. It fell on a day the Queen with her guest Were seated at the mid-day feast, When entered her favorite page in haste.

In the early morning he went in quest Of eaglets' eyries, and on the crest Of a lofty mountain he found a nest, With golden treasure hid in its breast, Wrapped in a scarlet mantel.

22. No sooner beheld she the page's prize, Than the tears o'erflowed the ladie's eyes.

My true and loyal knight she cries, (The palmer looked on with mute surprise.) Hast thou Sir Isumbras seen?

One moment they gazed in silent survey, The mists of memory rolled away; And locked within his arms she lay-- The lost one found again.

And there was feast and festival; Resounded then through bower and hall, The lute and joyous madrigal; And joustings there were in tournament, And breaking of lances in compliment, To the beauty of ladies bright; Then over the Sultan's fair domain, In peace the knight and lady reign; Till the king in all sincerity, Strove with pious zeal to free From the bonds of Infidelity, _His Paynim lieges hight_.

23. But no one there his cause upheld, Save G.o.d and the Queen, I trow; And were they e'er so valorous, Never could they withstand An armament so numerous, As the unbelievers' band.

24. Then by a chance miraculous, The tide of war was turned.

As they might be sent in our Lady's name, Three knights came p.r.i.c.king o'er the plain, As if the ground they spurned.

Came the first on a lion strong; On a leopard the second was borne-- The third bestrode a unicorn.

Tall men and brave were they; The hosts of the Saracens fled in dismay, And repenting of their disloyalty, Returned they then to their fealty; And the knight and lady peacefully Together with their children, three Restored to them so happily, Reigned in tranquillity, Prosperously and long.

25. They lived and died in good intent; Unto Heaven their souls went.

When that they dead were, Jesus Christ, Heaven's king, Give us aye his blessing, And shield us aye from care.

Rousing herself from the abstraction that had prevented her hearing the song of her page, the queen remarked, "Thy story is somewhat long, and for ourself we would have preferred that the husband had won the holy estate of martyrdom 'neath the sword of the Soldan. But thou hast rhymed it right dextrously, and we opine that the moral of thy lay accords well with the ascetic manners of the north." She extended her wand. The herald then stood forth, and sounding a few notes on a chalumeaux, cried,

"Comes there no cause of Arrets d'amour, Our gracious liege and sovereign before, From lady, knight, or troubadour?"

The flute-like call was thrice repeated, and then a low response to the challenge issued from a mimic grotto, curiously roofed with overhanging vines.

"The minstrel of our sister Petronilla has leave to present her cause before our court," said the queen encouragingly, as the troop of the young princess advanced from the shadow into the clear light, and knelt at the footstool of justice.

"The lady Petronilla," began the Troubadour, "arraigns before the court her recreant knight, Count Rudolph of Vermandois. Cold greeting gives he for her fair looks, scant courtesy for her warm smiles; his ungloved hand returns not the pressure of her slight fingers, and the banderol she sent him flutters not from his gleaming lance." A slight pause followed this accusation, and the herald again stood forth and demanded if any minstrel or Troubadour could say aught in extenuation of the offence of the accused. Not a voice answered, not a harp string stirred. At the third call the page of Eleanor arose, and with a graceful obeisance begged to be heard.

"Rudolph of Vermandois," said he, "witnesseth by me, that since he set lance in rest to do his devoir for the fair Adelais of Champaigne, his eye and smile, and heart and hand, as loyal husband and true knight, are due and devote to her alone."

A general murmur attested the disapprobation of the a.s.sembly at this new and strange defence; for it had already become a proverb in Guienne, that "True love cannot exist between married persons." The importance of the action, however, elicited a brilliant contest among the rival Troubadours, and never was a case more warmly argued, more skilfully enveloped with the subtleties of logic, or more thoroughly transpierced with the sallies of wit, than that which arose from the efforts of the wily granddaughter of Philippa of Toulouse, to fascinate the husband of the granddaughter of Adela, Countess of Blois. The fair jurors finally, like their successors in modern days, rendered their verdict in accordance with preconceived opinions, independent of justice or argument. The defence being thus found invalid, the culprit was put under ban of the court, and all true ladies were forbidden to smile upon him, except by the grace of his slighted lady-love. The fairy camp then adjourned its sitting to receive the royal guests, who were already on the way to meet them. As Eleanor accepted the a.s.sistance of her lover to climb the terraced pathway leading to the castle, she said with her most bewitching smile, "We consign our young sister, Petronilla, to the care of our n.o.ble cousin of Vermandois." The count dissembling his reluctance bowed and offered his hand to the sprightly sorceress, and the queen whispered her sister, "The hawk is hooded, it must be thine to bind his jessies."

CHAPTER II.

Where is the antique glory now become, That while some wont in woman to appear?

Where be the bold achievements done by some?

Where be the battles, where the shield and spear?

And all the conquests which them high did rear Be they all dead, or shall again appear?

SPENSER.

The first of August, 1137, rose upon a brilliant ceremonial. The princely capital of Bordeaux glittered with all the splendor that Guienne, and its dependent fiefs could supply; for on that day the native subjects of Eleanor a.s.sembled to accept the resignation of Duke William, and to give the hand of their liege lady in marriage to the heir of France. Though Eleanor was sufficiently dazzled by the prospect of ruling in the court of Paris, she had the sagacity to accept the proposal of her barons and refuse her consent to the arrangement, till by charter and deed she had secured inviolate the laws and customs of Aquitaine, and the administration of the government to herself alone. Upon the conclusion of the ceremony the duke laid down his robes and insignia of sovereignty, and in presence of his loving subjects and weeping grandchildren, took up the hermit's cowl and staff and departed on his lonely pilgrimage.

The royal cortege set out the following day for the north, resting only at the princ.i.p.al towns, where the young duke and d.u.c.h.ess received the homage of the feudal lords.

At Blois, the Count of Vermandois, who had by circ.u.mstances that seemed to him wholly accidental been forced to give his constant attendance upon the artful Petronilla, embraced once more his beautiful Adelais, and pleading her ill health, obtained permission of the prince to absent himself for a time from court. The disappointed Petronilla could scarcely conceal her chagrin at this unlooked-for interruption in her proceedings, and from that moment conceived the most violent hatred of her innocent rival. On their entrance at Paris, instead of the enthusiastic greeting and splendid festivities which Eleanor had antic.i.p.ated, the bridal party was escorted through silent streets by weeping attendants, who conducted them to the death-bed of Louis VI. The great legislator of France gazed with a look of solemn benignity upon the youthful pair that knelt to crave his parting blessing, and reminding them, that their recent union involved not only their individual happiness, but the peace and prosperity of both the north and the south, added with his expiring breath, "Remember, royalty is a public trust, for the exercise of which a rigorous account will be exacted by Him who has the sole disposal of crowns and of sceptres."

On the conscientious mind of Louis, the words of his dying father made a deep impression; but his thoughtless partner was no sooner crowned Queen of France, than she entered upon her career of folly, exerting all her talents, and exercising all her influence in the exciting games of court intrigue. The impa.s.sioned verse in which Abelard celebrated the beauty and love of the gifted but frail Heloise, furnished employment for Eleanor's Provencal minstrels, and formed the topic of general remark among the minions of the court. She a.s.sisted the persecuted monk in his defence before the Council of Sens, and after his death caused his body to be conveyed to the chapel of the Paraclete, and consigned to the care of the melancholy Heloise. She persuaded Louis that the services of his prime minister Vermandois, were indispensable at Paris, and thus, again, brought that n.o.bleman within the charmed sphere of Petronilla's attractions. She contrived, at the same time, to secure for herself a devoted admirer in the Count of Ponthieu, who became the agent of her slightest wish. Through his gallantry she succeeded in involving the beautiful Adelais in some matters of court scandal, and thus by exciting the jealousy of the Count of Vermandois, and exposing him to the bewitching spells of her sister, she finally persuaded him to divorce his lovely and amiable wife, and espouse the designing Petronilla.

Adelais sought to hide her sorrow and her wrongs in the seclusion of a convent; but her brother, the valiant Count Thibault of Champagne, was not inclined to suffer the indignity in silence. Such, however, was Eleanor's power over the plastic mind of her husband, that the count appealed in vain to the sympathy or justice of the king. Finding that his remonstrance could not reach the royal ear, he presented his cause before the pope, who compelled Vermandois to put away the guilty Petronilla, and take back the injured sister of Champagne. The repudiated wife enraged at her own dishonor, and incensed at the undissembled joy with which Vermandois exchanged her dazzling graces, for the long-regretted charms of the weeping recluse, again had recourse to Eleanor. The queen, not less vindictive than her sister, and more practised in diplomacy, succeeded in fanning an ancient feud between Louis and Count Thibault, into the flame of war. The king invaded Champagne at the head of a large army, and commenced a devastating progress through the province. The town of Vitry, strongly walled and fortified, for a long time resisted the royal forces; but the queen, whose apprehensions of the temperate counsels of Suger, prompted her to accompany her husband upon every occasion, privately commissioned a body of Gascons to set fire to the town at the very moment of its surrender. The flames spread from house to house, and finally extended to the cathedral, and thirteen hundred persons who had taken refuge there, were burned to death. The king stung by the cries of his perishing subjects, exerted himself for their rescue, but in vain; and the horrors of the scene made such a fearful impression on his mind, as seriously to affect his health. The vision of his lamented father, repeating in solemn tones, "Remember, my son, that royalty is a public trust, for the exercise of which a rigorous account will be exacted by Him who has the sole disposal of crowns and of sceptres," haunted his slumbers and destroyed his rest. Queen Eleanor journeyed with him from one holy place to another, to entreat the prayers of pious monks in his behalf, but the dejection of his mind increased to such an extent, that even her insinuating blandishments failed to recall him from his gloomy contemplations. Wearied with fruitless endeavors, she petulantly remarked to Petronilla, who now triumphed in the possession of a new lover, the young Count Maurienne, "Fate has given me the name of queen with the destiny of a nun. Would we were again in our native realm, for I tire of this dull life. Instead of the gay minstrelsy of the sweet southwest, I am jaded with perpetual psalmody, and my attempts to beguile the weary hours with the 'joyous science,' are mocked with the mummery of muttered prayers. I have married a monk rather than a monarch;" and the mortified queen burst into tears.

While this state of feeling subsisted between the conscience-stricken Louis and his discontented consort, news of the fall of Edessa and the conquests of Noureddin reached Europe, and the sagacious Eleanor saw, in the general sympathy which the intelligence excited, the means by which she might make the melancholy of Louis the instrument of her own pleasure.

She forsook at once her gay amus.e.m.e.nts, joined her husband in alms, deeds and prayers, expressed the greatest pity for the misfortunes of their royal cousins, and constantly wished that she might be permitted to lead her brave Provencals to restore the gallant Courtenays to their lost princ.i.p.ality of Edessa. The gracious change in the character of Eleanor delighted the penitent monarch, and he began to listen with interest and pleasure to her oft-repeated suggestion, that a pilgrimage would prove an acceptable penance for the misdeed at Vitry. Animated by a renewed hope, he called a council of the clergy and n.o.bility of his kingdom to deliberate on the propriety of an expedition to the Holy Land, and by their advice despatched deputies to gain the sanction of Pope Eugenius.

The vicar of Christ entered readily into the design, and commissioned the famous St. Bernard, abbot of Clairvaux, to preach the _Second Crusade_.

Louis and his queen, and all their court, attended on the ministry of the holy man, and such crowds flocked to listen to the eloquent saint that no cathedral, however large, could contain them. His auditors were impressed by his sanct.i.ty, persuaded by his enthusiasm, and carried away by his zeal. "The cross!" "The cross!" was echoed from every tongue. Louis and his queen were the first to adopt the holy symbol, and as the mult.i.tudes that pressed forward to follow their pious example soon exhausted the supply already prepared, the reverend orator tore his monkish garment into small pieces and fixed them to the shoulders of his kneeling converts.

Encouraged by his success, St. Bernard pa.s.sed into Germany, and every city and village from Constance to Carinthia responded to the call of war.

Those who understood not even the language which he spoke, were awed by his gestures, and the dignity of his demeanor, and the miracles that accompanied his presence. The mind of the emperor Conrad III. was moved by his startling delineations of the judgment day, when punishment should be inflicted upon the idle, and heavenly rewards showered upon the faithful, and openly professed that the Lord of the Germans knew and would perform his duty to the church.

The romantic purpose of becoming a female crusader now completely occupied the light head of Eleanor, and as she was in the very plenitude of her charms, and possessed sufficient wealth to practise any extravagance, she soon made it the fashion among all the vain sentimentalists of her court.

The absurd arrangements which she made for the campaign, gave little promise of rational conquest. The female recruits sent their useless distaffs and embroidery-frames to all the knights and n.o.bles who had the good sense to suppose that Heaven would be better pleased with their remaining in peace at home, than by their going abroad to destroy their fellow-men; and this ingenious taunt had the desired effect upon the doughty knights, who, fearing a woman's raillery, joined an expedition to Syria to prove their valor. The fair warriors clothed themselves in helmet and hauberk, having golden crosses tastefully embroidered upon the left shoulder; gilded slippers, glittering spurs, and silver-sheathed falchions suspended from the side completed the equipment, and mounted on richly-caparisoned steeds, they formed a brilliant squadron, caricoled about Paris and performed a thousand fantastic follies in public, calling themselves the body-guard of the _Golden-footed Dame_.

CHAPTER III.

A voice, a flute, a dreamy lay, Such as the southern breeze Might waft, at golden fall of day O'er blue transparent seas.

Louis took the cross in 1146, and in the following year, having received from the pope the consecrated banner as a warrior, and the staff and scrip as a pilgrim, set out for the general rendezvous at Mentz with his queen and her grotesque cavalcade. Here they were joined by an immense number of n.o.bles and knights and soldiers, among whom were crusaders from England and the remote islands of the northern sea. After the lapse of half a century, the second crusade, consisting of two hundred thousand people, tracked their way along the banks of the Danube by the whitening bones of those who had fallen victims to the blind fanaticism of the first expedition. Manuel Comnenus, who now sat on the throne of Constantinople, adopted the same policy that had distinguished the councils of his grandfather, Alexius. His envoys, bearing letters filled with flattery and fair speeches, met the advancing warriors, but the imperial guides were instructed to conduct the soldiers of the west by difficult and circuitous routes, and the purveyors had secret orders to furnish them with sacks of flour mixed with chalk and lime. Conrad, who was the brother-in-law of Manuel, was so indignant at this breach of hospitality, that he crossed the Bosphorus without meeting or conferring with the emperor--but the splendid city of Constantinople presented too many attractions to the female adventurers to be pa.s.sed in so hurried a manner.

The wily Comnenus soon perceived that the readiest means to divide the forces of the crusade would be to amuse the fickle Queen of France. All the voluptuous refinements of the Greek court were accordingly put in requisition to detain his unwelcome visitors, and if the avaricious Bohemond was bribed with the contents of a treasure-chamber in the palace, Eleanor might well be excused if her frivolous fancy was captivated by her splendid suite of rooms adorned with all the luxury of eastern magnificence, and the richly-attired slaves that waited her slightest bidding, and when at last they set forward, the Damascene silks, costly jewels, and precious gifts, which Manuel showered upon the finery-loving Amazons, added not a little to the c.u.mbrous baggage with which the thoughtless queen loaded the expedition.

Louis, lulled into security by the flattering a.s.surances of Manuel, had lingered in the Greek empire till the defeat of Conrad at Iconium, when convinced by the report of the discomfited Germans, of the treachery of his royal host, he set forward with his troops along the coast of Asia Minor. They pa.s.sed Thyatira, Sardis, and Philadelphia without accident, defeated the Turks on the banks of the Meander, and arrived in safety at Laodicea. The freaks of Eleanor and her female warriors were the cause of all the misfortunes that afterwards befell the French army. On the second day after leaving Laodicea, their way led up the mountains, by a winding and difficult ascent. The prudent king sent forward the queen and her ladies, escorted by his choicest troops, under the guard of Count Maurienne, charging them to entrench themselves upon the wooded heights that overlooked the valley of Laodicea. Himself followed slowly with the rearguard, enc.u.mbered by the useless baggage, and hara.s.sed by the Arabs.

The Count Maurienne, with Petronilla by his side, rode gallantly up the steep, and halted at the place appointed, but when Eleanor reached the spot she was so attracted by the appearance of an adjacent valley, cooled by waterfalls, and shaded by thickets, which seemed to beckon them on with an inviting grace, that she insisted upon pressing forward, and forming the bivouac there. The Count Maurienne endeavored to dissuade the queen from her purpose, by representing the danger of abandoning the commanding position designated by the king, but opposition only increased her pertinacity, and aided by the light artillery of Petronilla's eyes, she soon brought the discomfited knight to terms. The scene that opened before them as they descended into the valley, was sufficient to charm away all fatigue and fear. The rocky heights at the west, behind which the sun was just sinking, veiled their bold fronts in the misty fringes of the opal clouds; the blue Mediterranean circled the horizon on the south; and far to the east stretched every variety of woodland, meadow, and glade, till the Taurus ridge, melting into the sky, shut out the sands of Syria. The happy party soon entered the valley. The sumpter mules were speedily unloaded, the light spars planted, the white canva.s.s of the tents stretched upon them, and a cold collation spread out for their refreshment. When the repast was finished Eleanor caused her couch to be placed at the door of the tent, so that wild roses nodded at its pillow, and flinging herself upon it, as the brilliant stars of that eastern clime looked down upon her, she exclaimed, "Petronilla, my sister, seems not this like our own dear Provence? I could almost fancy myself once more in the Rose Pavilion."

"Certes," said Petronilla, "and were it not a fitting time and place to hold the festival of our Court of Love? Methinks yon, count," with a mischievous glance at Maurienne, "withstood our entreaties to enter this delightful retreat beyond the limits of gallantry."

"Gra'mercy, fair ladies," said the count, with mock gravity, "that I fear the frowns of this august tribunal more than the displeasure of my royal master, is perhaps my sin, and it is with unfeigned apprehensions that I surrender to the court."