His third folly was that, when he saw the land across the sea, the Holy Land, which God had so often praised, in that He called it “the land flowing with milk and honey,” and the most excellent of all lands, it displeased him, and he said that the God of the Jews had not seen his own lands, namely, the Terra di Lavoro, Calabria, Sicily and Apulia. Otherwise, He would not so often have praised the land that He promised and gave to the Jews....
His fourth folly was that he often sent a certain Nicholas, against his will, to the bottom of the Faro, and many times he returned. But Frederick wanted to discover whether or not he had really gone to the bottom and returned, so he threw his golden cup in the sea, where he thought it was deepest. And Nicholas plunged in, found the cup, and brought it to him, which astonished the emperor. But when Frederick wanted to send him back once again, Nicholas said, “Do not send me there again at any price, for the sea is so troubled in its depths, that if you send me I shall never return.” The emperor sent him nevertheless, and he never returned. For at the times of tempests there are great fishes in the depths of the sea and also, as Nicholas himself reported, rocks and many wrecked ships....
Moreover, Frederick had other superstitions and curiosities and curses and incredulities and perversities and abuses, concerning which I have written in another chronicle.... For he was an Epicurean, and so whatever could be found in divine Scripture by him and by his wise men, which seemed to show that there is no other life after death, he found it all, for example, the words of the Psalms: “You will destroy them and you will not rebuild them” and the saying, “Their sepulchres will be their homes forever.” ...
The sixth curiosity and folly of Frederick, as I have said in my other chronicle, was that at a certain luncheon he had two men very well beaten, and then sent one of them to sleep and the other to hunt, and on the following evening, he had them defecate in his presence, because he wanted to know which of them had digested the better. And it was decided by the doctors that he who had slept had enjoyed the better digestion.
The seventh and last of his curiosities and follies was that, as I have also written in my other chronicle, when he was in a certain palace on a certain day, he asked Michael Scot, his astrologer, how far he was from the sky, and the astrologer told him how far it seemed to him. Then the emperor took him to other parts of the kingdom, as if for the sake of travel, and he remained for many months. Meanwhile, Frederick had ordered the architects or carpenters to lower the hall of the palace in such a way that no one could detect it. And thus it was done. When after many days, the emperor was staying in the same palace with his astrologer, as if beginning in another way, he asked him whether he was still as far from the sky as he had said the other time. After he had made his computation, the astrologer said that either the sky had been raised or certainly the earth had been lowered. And then the emperor knew that the astrologer spoke truly. I know and I have heard many other follies of Frederick, which for the sake of brevity I do not mention, and because it bores me to relate so many of his follies, and also because I hasten to speak of other things.
From Chronicle, F. Bernini, ed.; trans. M.M.M.
A Saintly King
JEAN DE JOINVILLE
Thirteenth century
HIS VIRTUES
IN THE name of God Almighty, I, John, Lord of Joinville, seneschal of Champagne, dictate the life of our holy King Lewis; that which I saw and heard by the space of six years that I was in his company on pilgrimage oversea, and that which I saw and heard after we returned. And before I tell you of his great deeds, and of his prowess, I will tell you what I saw and heard of his good teachings and of his holy words, so that these may be found here set in order for the edifying of those who shall hear thereof.
This holy man loved God with all his heart, and followed Him in His acts; and this appeared in that, as God died for the love He bore His people, so did the king put his body in peril, and that several times, for the love he bore to his people; and such peril he might well have avoided, as you shall be told hereafter.
The great love that he bore to his people appeared in what he said during a very sore sickness that he had at Fontainebleau, unto my lord Lewis, his eldest son. “Fair son,” he said, “I pray thee to make thyself beloved of the people of thy kingdom; for truly I would rather that a Scot should come out of Scotland and govern the people of the kingdom well and equitably than that thou shouldest govern it ill in the sight of all men.” The holy king so loved truth, that, as you shall hear hereafter, he would never consent to lie to the Saracens as to any covenant that he had made with them.
Of his mouth he was so sober, that on no day of my life did I ever hear him order special meats, as many rich men are wont to do; but he ate patiently whatever his cooks had made ready and was set before him. In his words he was temperate; for on no day of my life did I ever hear him speak evil of any one; nor did I ever hear him name the Devil—which name is very commonly spoken throughout the kingdom, whereby God, as I believe, is not well pleased.
He put water into his wine by measure, according as he saw that the strength of the wine would suffer it. At Cyprus he asked me why I put no water into my wine; and I said this was by order of the physicians, who told me I had a large head and a cold stomach, so that I could not get drunk. And he answered that they deceived me; for if I did not learn to put water into my wine in my youth, and wished to do so in my old age, gout and diseases of the stomach would take hold upon me, and I should never be in health; and if I drank pure wine in my old age, I should get drunk every night, and that it was too foul a thing for a brave man to get drunk.
He asked me if I wished to be honoured in this world, and to go into paradise at my death? And I said, “Yes.” And he said, “Keep yourself then from knowingly doing or saying anything which, if the whole world heard thereof, you would be ashamed to acknowledge, saying ‘I did this,’ or ‘I said that.” ’ He told me to beware not to contradict or impugn anything that was said before me—unless indeed silence would be a sin or to my own hurt—because hard words often move to quarrelling, wherein men by the thousand have found death.
He said that men ought to clothe and arm their bodies in such wise that men of worth and age would never say, this man has done too much, nor young men say, this man has done too little. And I repeated this saying to the father of the king that now is, when speaking of the embroidered coats of arms that are made nowadays; and I told him that never, during our voyage oversea, had I seen embroidered coats, either belonging to the king or to anyone else. And the king that now is told me that he had such suits, with arms embroidered, as had cost him eight hundred pounds parasis. And I told him he would have employed the money to better purpose if he had given it to God, and had had his suits made of good taffeta (satin) ornamented with his arms, as his father had done....
He so loved all manner of people who had faith in God and loved Him, that he gave the constableship of France to my lord Giles Le Brun, who was not of the kingdom of France, because men held him in so great repute for his faith and for love to God. And verily I believe that his good repute was well deserved.
He caused Master Robert of Sorbon to eat at his table, because of the great repute in which he was held as a man of uprightness and worth. One day it chanced that Master Robert was eating at my side, and we were talking to one another. The king took us up, and said: “Speak out, for your companions think you are speaking ill of them. If you talk at table of things that can give us pleasure, speak out, and, if not, hold your peace.”
When the king would be mirthful he would say to me: “Seneschal, tell me the reasons why a man of uprightness and worth [prud‘homme] is better than a friar?” Then would begin a discussion between me and Master Robert. When we had disputed for a long while, the king would give sentence and speak thus: “Master Robert, willingly would I bear the title of upright and worthy [prud’homme] provided I were such in reality —and all the rest you might have. For uprightness and worth are such great things a
nd such good things that even to name them fills the mouth pleasantly.”
On the contrary, he said it was an evil thing to take other people’s goods. “For,” said he, “to restore is a thing so grievous, that even in the speaking the word ‘restore’ scratches the throat by reason of the r’s that are in it, and these r’s are like so many rakes with which the Devil would draw to himself those who wish to ’restore’ what they have taken from others. And very subtly does the Devil do this; for he works on great usurers and great robbers in such sort that they give to God what they ought to ‘restore’ to men.” ...
The rule of his land was so arranged that every day he heard the hours sung, and a requiem mass without song; and then, if it was convenient, the mass of the day, or of the saint, with song. Every day he rested in his bed after having eaten, and when he had slept and rested, he said, privily in his chamber—he and one of his chaplains together—the office for the dead; and after he heard vespers. At night he heard complines.
A grey friar [Franciscan] came to him at the castle of Hyères, there where we disembarked; and said in his sermon, for the king’s instruction, that he had read the Bible, and the books pertaining to heathen princes, and that he had never found, either among believers or misbelievers, that a kingdom had been lost, or had changed lords, save there had first been failure of justice. “Therefore let the king, who is going into France, take good heed,” said he, “that he do justice well and speedily among his people, so that our Lord suffer his kingdom to remain in peace all the days of his life.” It is said that the right worthy man who thus instructed the king lies buried at Marseilles, where our Lord, for his sake, performs many a fine miracle. He would never consent to remain with the king, however much the king might urge it, for more than a single day.
The king forgat not the teaching of the friar, but ruled his land very loyally and godly, as you shall hear. He had so arranged that my lord of Nesle, and the good count of Soissons, and all of us who were about him, should go, after we had heard our masses, and hear the pleadings at the gate which is now called the Gate of Requests.
And when he came back from church, he would send for us and sit at the foot of his bed, and make us all sit round him, and ask if there were any whose cases could not be settled save by himself in person. And we named the litigants; and he would then send for such and ask, “Why do you not accept what our people offer?” and they would make reply, “Sire, because they offer us very little.” Then would he say, “You would do well to accept what is proposed, as our people desire.” And the saintly man endeavoured thus, with all his power, to bring them into a straight path and a reasonable.
Ofttimes it happened that he would go, after his mass, and seat himself in the wood of Vincennes, and lean against an oak, and make us sit round him. And all those who had any cause in hand came and spoke to him, without hindrance of usher, or of any other person. Then would he ask, out of his own mouth, “Is there any one who has a cause in hand?” And those who had a cause in hand stood up. Then would he say, “Keep silence all, and you shall be heard in turn, one after the other.” Then he would call my lord Peter of Fontaines and my lord Geoffry of Villette, and say to one of them, “Settle me this cause.”
And when he saw that there was anything to amend in the words of those who spoke on his behalf, or in the words of those who spoke on behalf of any other person, he would himself, out of his own mouth, amend what they had said. Sometimes have I seen him, in summer, go to do justice among his people in the garden of Paris, clothed in a tunic of camlet, a surcoat of tartan without sleeves, and a mantle of black taffeta about his neck, his hair well combed, no cap, and a hat of white peacock’s feathers upon his head. And he would cause a carpet to be laid down, so that we might sit round him, and all the people who had any cause to bring before him stood around. And then would he have their causes settled, as I have told you afore he was wont to do in the wood of Vincennes....
THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER
To Sayette came news to the king that his mother was dead. He made such lamentation that, for two days, no one could speak to him. After that he sent one of the varlets of his chamber to summon me. When I came before him in his chamber, where he was alone, and he saw me, he stretched out his arms, and said, “Ah, seneschal, I have lost my mother!” “Sire,” said I, “I do not marvel at that, since she had to die; but I do marvel that you, who are a wise man, should have made such great mourning; for you know what the sage says: that whatever grief a man may have in his heart, none should appear on his countenance, because he who shows his grief causes his enemies to rejoice and afflicts his friends.” He caused many fine services to be held for the queen overseas; and afterwards sent to France a chest full of letters to the churches, asking them to pray for her.
My lady Mary of Vertus, a very good lady and a saintly woman, came to tell me that the queen was making great lamentation, and asked me to go to her and comfort her. And when I came there, I found her weeping; and I told her that he spake sooth who said that none should put faith in woman. “For,” said I, “she that is dead is the woman that you most hated, and yet you are showing such sorrow.” And she told me it was not for the queen that she was weeping, but because of the king’s sorrow in the mourning that he made, and because of her daughter, afterwards the queen of Navarre, who had remained in men’s keeping.
The unldndness that the queen Blanche showed to the queen Margaret was such that she would not suffer, in so far as she could help it, that her son should be in his wife’s company, except at night when he went to sleep with her. The palace where the king and his queen liked most to dwell was at Pontoise, because there the king’s chamber was above and the queen’s chamber below; and they had so arranged matters between them that they held their converse in a turning staircase that went from the one chamber to the other; and they had further arranged that when the ushers saw the queen Blanche coming to her son’s chamber, they struck the door with their rods, and the king would come running into his chamber so that his mother might find him there; and the ushers of Queen Margaret’s chamber did the same when Queen Blanche went thither, so that she might find Queen Margaret there.
Once the king was by his wife’s side, and she was in great peril of death, being hurt for a child that she had borne. Queen Blanche came thither, and took her son by the hand, and said, “Come away; you have nothing to do here!” When Queen Margaret saw that the mother was leading her son away, she cried, “Alas! whether dead or alive, you will not suffer me to see my lord!” Then she fainted, and they thought she was dead; and the king, who thought she was dying, turned back; and with great trouble they brought her round....
THE HORROR OF ST. LEWIS FOR ALL BLASPHEMY
The king so loved God and His sweet Mother that he caused all those to be grievously punished who were convinced of speaking of Them evilly or lightly, or with a profane oath. Thus I saw him cause a goldsmith, at Caesarea, to be bound to a ladder, in his drawers and shirt, with a pig’s gut and haslet round his neck, and in such quantity that they reached up to his nose. I heard tell that, since I came from overseas, he caused, on this account, a citizen of Paris to be burned in the nose and lip; but this I did not myself witness. And the saintly king was used to say: “I would consent to be branded with a hot iron on condition that all profane oaths were removed out of my realm.”
I was full twenty-two years in his company, and never heard him swear by God, nor His Mother, nor His saints. When he wished to affirm anything, he would say: “Truly that was so,” or “Truly that is so.”
Never did I hear him name the Devil, unless the name came in some book, where it was right that it should come, or in the life of the saints where the book made mention thereof. And great shame it is to the realm of France, and to the king who suffers it, that scarcely can anyone speak without saying, “May the Devil take it!” And it is a great sin of speech to devote to the Devil men or women who were given to God as soon as they were baptized. In the house of Joinville wh
osoever speaks such a word receives a buffet or pummel, and bad language is nearly outrooted....
THE DEATH OF ST. LEWIS
When the good king had so taught his son, my lord Philip, the infirmity that was upon him began to grow apace; and he asked for the sacraments of Holy Church, and received them, being clear of thought and of sound understanding, as appeared duly, for when they anointed him with oil and said the seven psalms, he repeated the verses in turn.
And I heard my lord, the count of Alençon, his son, tell that when the king came near to death he called upon the saints to help and succour him, and especially upon my lord St. James, saying St. James’s orison, which begins, “Esto, Domine,” that is to say, “O God, be the sanctifier and guardian of thy people.” Then he called to his aid my lord St. Denis of France, saying St. Denis’s urison, which is to this effect: “Lord God, grant that we may despise the prosperity of this world, and not stand in fear of any adversity.”
And I then heard my lord of Alençon—on whom God have mercy!—relate how his father called on my lady St. Geneviève. After that, the saintly king caused himself to be laid on a bed covered with ashes, and put his hands across his breast, and, looking towards heaven, rendered up his spirit to our Creator; and it was at the same hour that the Son of God died upon the cross for the world’s salvation.
A piteous thing, and worthy of tears, is the death of this saintly prince, who kept and guarded his realm so holily, and loyally, and gave alms there so largely, and set therein so many fair foundations. And like as the scribe who, writing his book, illuminates it with gold and azure, so did the said king illuminate his realm with the fair abbeys that he built, and the great number of almshouses, and the houses for Preachers and Franciscans, and other religious orders, as named above.
The Portable Medieval Reader Page 33