Such were the acts and qualities of Louis which impressed his Dominican confessor. They were the qualities of a saint, and would have brought their possessor to a monastery, had not his royal station held him in the world. The Dominican could not know the knightly nature of his royal penitent, and still less reflect it in his Latin of the confessional. For this there was needed the pen of a great gentleman, whose nature enabled him to picture his lord in a book of such high breeding that it were hard to find its fellow. This book is stately with the Sire de Joinville’s consciousness of his position and blood, and stately through the respect he bore his lord—a book with which no one would take a liberty. Yet it is simple in thought and phrase, as written by one who lived through what he tells, and closely knew and dearly loved the king. From it one learns that he who was a saint in his confessor’s eyes was also a monarch from his soul out to his royal manners and occasional royal insistence upon acts which others thought unwise. We also learn to know him as a knightly, hapless soldier of the Cross, who would not waver from his word plighted even to an infidel.
That St. Louis was a veritable knight is the first thing one learns from Joinville. The first part of my book, says that gentleman, tells how the king conducted his life after the way of God and the Church, and to the profit of his realm; the second tells of his “granz chevaleries et de ses granz faiz d’armes.” “The first deed (faiz) whereby ‘il mist son cors en avanture de mort’ was at our arrival before Damietta, where his council was of the opinion, as I have understood, that he ought to remain in his ship until he saw what his knights (sa chevalerie) should do, who made a landing. The reason why they so counselled him was that if he disembarked, and his people should be killed and he with them, the whole affair was lost; while if he remained in his ship he could in his own person renew the attempt to conquer Egypt. And he would credit no one, but leaped into the sea, all armed, his shield hanging from his neck, his lance in hand, and was one of the first upon the beach.”
This is from Joinville’s Introduction. He recommences formally:
“In the name of God the all powerful, I, John, Sire of Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne, cause to be written the life of our sainted king Louis, as I saw and heard of it for the space of six years while I was in his company on the pilgrimage beyond the sea, and since we returned. And before I tell you his great deeds and prowess (chevalerie), I will recount what I saw and heard of his holy words and good precepts, so that they may be found one after the other for the improvement of those who hear.
“This holy man loved God with all his heart, and imitated His works: which was evident in this, that as God died for the love which He bore His people, so he (Louis) put his body in peril several times for the love which he bore his people. The great love which he had for his people appeared in what he said to his eldest son, Louis, when very sick at Fontainebleau: ‘Fair son,’ said he, ‘I beg thee to make thyself loved by the people of thy kingdom; for indeed I should prefer that a Scot from Scotland came and ruled the people of the kingdom well and faithfully, rather than that thou shouldst rule them ill in the sight of all.’”
Joinville continues relating the virtues of the king, and recording his conversations with himself:
“He called me once and said, ‘Seneschal, what is God?’ And I said to him, ‘Sire, it is a being so good that there can be no better.’
“‘Now I ask you,’ said he, ‘which would you choose, to be a leper, or to have committed a mortal sin?’ And I who never lied to him replied that I had rather have committed thirty than be a leper. Afterwards he called me apart and made me sit at his feet and said: ‘Why did you say that to me yesterday?’ And I told him that I would say it again. And he: ‘You speak like a thoughtless trifler; for you should know there is no leprosy so ugly as to be in mortal sin, because the soul in mortal sin is like the devil. This is why there can be no leprosy so ugly. And then, of a truth, when a man dies, he is cured of the leprosy of the body; but when the man who has committed a mortal sin dies, he does not know, nor is it certain, that he has so repented while living, that God has pardoned him; this is why he should have great fear that this leprosy will last as long as God shall be in paradise. So I pray you earnestly that you will train your heart, for the love of God and of me, to wish rather for leprosy or any other bodily evil, rather than that mortal sin should come into your soul.’ He asked me whether I washed the feet of the poor on Holy Tuesday. ‘Sire,’ said I, ‘quel malheur! I will not wash those villains’ feet.’ ‘Truly that was ill said,’ said he; ‘for you should not hold in contempt what God did for our instruction. So I pray you, for the love of God first, and for the love of me, to accustom yourself to wash them.’”
Joinville was some years younger than his king, who loved him well and wished to help him. The king also esteemed Master Robert de Sorbon[686] for the high respect as a preudom in which he was held, and had him eat at his table. One day Master Robert was seated next to Joinville.
“‘Seneschal,’ said the king, smiling, ‘tell me the reasons why a man of wisdom and valour (preudom, prud’homme) is accounted better than a fool.’ Then began the argument between me and Master Robert; and when we had disputed for a time, the king rendered his decision, saying: ‘Master Robert, I should like to have the name of preudom, so be it that I was one, and all the rest I would leave to you; for preudom is such a grand and good thing that it fills the mouth just to pronounce it.’”