The origin and foundation of this most lovely example of mediæval art is so much a part of S. Louis' life that it may not be out of place to give some account of the Saint's character and habits before proceeding to describe the history of the chapel.
Louis IX. was pious and practical, and inconvenienced his courtiers as much by his punctuality and the assiduity with which he conducted his business, as by his religious duties. These he considered a part of his daily work, hearing all the canonical offices with the same regularity as he attended to the grievances of his subjects. Often, like our own George Herbert, was he found prostrate before the altar wrapped in prayer. Even Gibbon allowed that he united the virtues of a king, a hero, and a man—he might have added those of a just judge and a lawgiver; and Voltaire sums up his character as follows: "Il n'est guère donné à l'homme de pousser la vertu plus loin." When his more worldly friends cavilled at his austerities, he made his case good by retorting: "Si je passais deux fois autant de temps à jouer, ou à courir les bois, pour m'occuper de la chasse, personne n'en parleroit." As in the case of nearly all exceptionally good men, he probably owed everything to the extreme care that his mother had bestowed upon his education—a care which he repaid by a life-long devotion to her memory. Of good Queen Blanche's character we get a glimpse in the following touching anecdote. It is related that one day at Court, the Queen noticed a beautiful youth with long, fair hair, and asking his name, was answered, "Prince Herman, the son of the sainted Elizabeth of Hungary." On hearing this, Queen Blanche rose from her seat, and, gazing at the boy, said to him, "Fair youth, thou hadst a blessed mother; where did she kiss thee?" Whereat Herman, blushing, placed his finger on his forehead between his eyes, and the Queen, reverently pressing her lips upon the spot, looked up to Heaven and breathed the invocation: Sancta Elisabetha, Patrona nostra dulcissima, ora pro nobis. That a mother so imbued with admiration for the sainted Elizabeth should have a son who walked in the Hungarian queen's steps, is not very remarkable in those ages of faith. S. Louis' faith was simple, loving, and inextinguishable; and so it came about that when he heard of the Emperor Baldwin II.'s financial difficulties, he decided to purchase the relics which had been given more than once, it is said, as pledges for temporary loans. The Emperor's letter upon the subject would lead one to suppose that it was an act of generosity to faire passer the relics to S. Louis; but we know that the King paid very handsomely for them. "Je désire," said the emperor, "ardemment de vous faire passer cette précieuse relique à vous, mon cousin, mon seigneur, et mon bienfaiteur, et au royaume de France ma patrie." Other purchasers seem to have been in the field; for S. Louis only obtained, at that time, the Crown of Thorns and some portion of the True Cross. One of his rivals was our Henry III., who in 1247 summoned all his nobles to London to witness the reception of some of the Holy Blood which had been brought from the East in a crystal vase, by one of the Knights Templars. It was sent by the Master of the Templars and Hospitallers, its genuineness being attested by the Patriarch of Jerusalem and the abbots of the Holy Land. On the 13th October, being the feast of S. Edward the Confessor, the King, after prayer and fasting, carried the reliquary from S. Paul's to Westminster, where it was deposited in the Abbey church. The Bishop of Norwich preached, and celebrated mass; and in his sermon took pains to impress upon his hearers that the Holy Blood was more precious even than the True Cross possessed by the King of France—an argument which points to one of the causes of rivalry between the nations during the Middle Ages. Naturally the assembled prelates accorded indulgences to the faithful who should visit the shrine; but this much coveted privilege seems to have caused certain murmurings among some of the assistants; they objected that, whereas our Lord had ascended into Heaven in the body, He could not have left His blood upon the earth. But Robert Grossetête, Bishop of Lincoln, was equal to the occasion, and replied, that Joseph of Arimathea, having saved it from the precious wounds, more especially from the one in His side, had given some of it to Nicodemus, and thus it had been treasured up, and had passed from father to son, until it came into the possession of the Patriarch Robert of Jerusalem. These disputes seem to have been pretty common in those days, in spite of the unquestioning faith of the multitude. In 1357 we read of a squabble which took place between the Dominicans and the Franciscans, one François Baïle of Barcelona affirming that the blood being separated from the Divinity of our Lord was therefore not adorable. Often, indeed, these wranglings became so violent that the Popes were obliged to interfere in order to settle the matter.
The bringing home of the relics reads like a royal pageant. They were carried to Venice by the "Députés de Saint Louis et les ambassadeurs de l'Empire, accompagnés des plus nobles d'entre les Vénitiens. Le convoi mit à la voile dans le tems de Noël, saison où la mer est le plus orageuse. La confidence des Députés éleva leur ame au dessus de la crainte des périls, et elle fut justifiée; ils arrivèrent à Venise sans avoir essuyé de tempêtes. Vatace, Empereur Grec, avait détaché plusieurs galères qui croisoient aux différens détroits où les François devoient passer, pour leur enlever ce précieux butin. Sa vigilance fut trompée; Dieu veilloit sur eux."[1]
"Arrivée à Venise la Relique fut mise en dépôt dans le Trésor de la Chapelle de Saint-Marc. Le roi instruit du succès de la négociation de ses députés, envoya, ainsi que Baudouin, des Ambassadeurs avec l'argent nécessaire pour se l'approprier. De leur côté les Marchands François établis à Venise, plus riches encore des dons de la foi qu'avantagés de la fortune, ouvrirent leur bourse pour payer la somme stipulée. Les Vénitiens auroient bien desiré garder cette Relique, mais retenus par la foi du traité ils la restituèrent quoique à regret."
"Les Ambassadeurs après avoir reconnu les sceaux se mirent en route, et quoique la saison fût pluvieuse ils n'essuyèrent pas une goutte d'eau. Arrivés en Champagne, le Roi partit aussi-tôt pour les joindre. Il étoit accompagné de la Reine, de ses Frères, de l'Archevêque de Sens, de l'Evêque du Puy, et des Seigneurs les plus distingués de sa cour. II rencontra la Relique près de Sens; elle étoit enfermée dans une triple cassette. La première étoit de bois. On l'ouvrit, et on vérifia les sceaux des seigneurs François et du Duc de Venise apposés sur la cassette d'argent dans laquelle se trouva un vase d'or, contenant la Ste.-Couronne. L'ayant découverte on la fit voir à tous les Assistans, qui fondirent en larmes s'imaginant voir réellement Jésus Christ couronné d'épines. Puis le Roi mit son scelle sur la cassette. Tant de précautions écartent assurément tout soupçon d'infidélité."
"Le lendemain la Relique fut portée à Sens dont on avoit tendu toutes les rues. A l'entrée de la Ville, le Roi et le Comte d'Artois, l'aîné de ses Frères, la portèrent sur leurs epaules, les pieds nuds. Le Clergé alla au-devant, et les principaux Seigneurs chargés à leur tour de ce fardeau honorable la placèrent dans l'Eglise Métropolitaine de Saint-Etienne. On se mit ensuite en route pour Paris, où la réception de la Relique se fit avec la plus grande solennité. Tout le Clergé régulier et séculier fut convoqué à cette cérémonie. Les Religieux de Saint-Denis dès la pointe du jour se rendirent à l'endroit qui avoit été indiqué hors de Paris du côté de Vincennes; tous ceux qui assistèrent à cette Procession marchèrent nuds pieds. On avoit dressé un magnifique reposoir près de l'Abbaye Saint-Antoine, où la Châsse fut exposée aux yeux du peuple. Guillaume, Chantre de Saint-Denis, entonna tout ce qui fut chanté pendant la marche et l'Abbé eut place à la droite de l'Autel, avec les Archevêques, Evêques et les autres Abbés, tous en habits pontificaux. Enfin le 18e jour d'Août la Relique arriva, et fut placée au Palais dans la Chapelle de Saint-Nicolas."[2]
A medal was struck to commemorate this event, with the legend: HÆC REGIS REGUM TOTO PRETIOSIOR AURO, and S. Louis kneeling before an altar upon which is the crown of thorns. As to the particular tree of which the crown was composed, there was much difference of opinion. Clement of Alexandria calls it ex rubo, a sort of thicket; other writers a different sort of shrub or bush, called nerprun, or wild plum; and others, the white thorn.
The antiphon used every day in the offices of the Sainte-Chapelle began: Ecce Crux et Corona Spinea Arnia Regis Gloriae tibi commendantur; and the seal consisted of a cross with the crown of thorns intersecting it, and on each side a fleur-de-lys, with the King's crown at the top. Having acquired the holy relics, it was most seemly that a shrine should be constructed wherein they should rest—a shrine worthy the sanctity of such treasures. And so S. Louis commissioned his architect, Pierre de Montereau, to build him a chapel which should be a marvel of lightness and colour, embellished with windows which should glitter like precious stones, and containing a châsse, resplendent with enamels, and gold and silver—a shrine, as it were, within a shrine. That the architect was worthy the confidence of his royal master, the chapel testifies to this day, and Maître Pierre's immortal work remains the most perfect example of 13th century architecture in France; one might say, the most exquisite architectural gem which the world has yet seen, or is ever likely to see.