"I remember it well, sire," replied the hospitaller, "and a great and glorious blow it was; for, by that simple declaration, that the king could not and ought not to be vassal to any man, and that any feof returning to the crown by what means soever, was no longer a feof, but became domaine of the crown, you re-established at once the distinction between the king and his great feudatories."
"'Twas but a step," replied the monarch; "the next was, Guerin, to declare that all questions of feudal right were referable to our court of peers. The proud Suzerains thought that there they would be their own judges; but they found that I was there the king. But, to be short,--Guerin I have followed willingly the steps that circumstances imposed upon my father. I have freed the commons,--I have raised the clergy,--I have subjected my vassals to my court. So have I broken the feudal hierarchy;--so have I reduced the power of my greater feudatories; and so have I won both their fear and their hatred. It is against that I must guard. The lesser barons love me--the clergy--the burghers;--but that is not enough; I must have one or two of the sovereigns. Then let the rest revolt if they dare! By the Lord that liveth! if they do, I will leave the domaines of the crown to my son, tenfold multiplied from what I found them. But I must have one or two of my princes. Philip of Champagne is one on whom words and honours work more than real benefits. He must be feasted and set on my right-hand. Pierre de Courtney is one whose heart and soul is on chivalry; and he must be won by tournaments and lance-breakings. Many, many others are alike; and while I crush the wasps in my gauntlet, Guerin, I must not fail to spread out some honey to catch the flies." So spake Philip Augustus, with feelings undoubtedly composed of that grand selfishness called ambition; but, at the same time, with those superior powers, both of conception and execution that not only rose above the age, but carried the age along with him.
"I am not one, sire," said the minister, "to deem that great enterprises may not be accomplished with small means; but, in the present penury of the royal treasury, I know not what is to be done. I will see, however, what may be effected amongst your good burghesses of Paris."
"Do so, good bishop!" replied the king, "and in the mean time I will ride forth to the hermit of Vincennes. He is one of those men, Guerin, of whom earth bears so few, who have new thoughts. He seems to have cast off all old ideas and feelings, when he threw from him the corslet and the shield, and took the frock and sandal. Perhaps he may aid us. But, ere I go, I must take good order that every point of ceremony be observed in our banquet: I would not, for one half France, that Philip of Champagne should see a fault or a flaw! I know him well; and he must be my own, if but to oppose to Ferrand of Flanders, who is the falsest vassal that ever king had!"
"I trust that the hermit may suggest the means!" replied Guerin, "and I doubt little that he will; but I beseech you, sire, not to let your blow fall on the heads of the Jews again. The hermit's advice was wise, to punish them for their crimes, and at the same time to enrich the crown of France; but having now returned by your royal permission, and having ever since behaved well and faithfully, they should be assured of protection."
"Fear not, fear not!" replied the king; "they are as safe as my honour can make them." So saying, he turned to prepare for the expedition he proposed.
Strange state of society! when one of the greatest monarchs that France ever possessed was indebted, on many occasions, for the re-establishment of his finances, and for some of his best measures of policy, to an old man living in solitude and abstraction, removed from the scenes and people over whose fate he exercised so extraordinary a control, and evincing, on every occasion, his disinclination to mingle with the affairs of the world.[[11]]
But it is time we should speak more fully of a person whose history and influence on the people amongst whom he lived, strongly developes the character of the age.
CHAPTER IX.
King Philip rode out of Paris attended like the monarch of a great nation; but, pausing at the tower of Vincennes, he left his men-at-arms behind; and, after throwing a brown mantle over his shoulders, and drawing the aumuce,[[12]] or furred hood, round his face, he proceeded through the park on foot, followed only by a single page to open the gate, which led out into the vast forest of St. Mandé. When this task was performed, the attendant, by order of the monarch, suffered him to proceed alone, and waited on the outside of the postern, to admit the king on his return.