The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [172]
Louis saw the wisdom of this. There was nothing else he could do. He was a man of faith. He believed that his son’s life would now be spared.
In order to impress Louis with his friendship—and perhaps fearing that he might have heard rumors about Alais and himself—Henry took Louis to visit churches, where, I have no doubt, there was more praying; he also showed him the treasury vaults and begged him to take some precious object as a mark of the amity between them. How amused I should have been! If I had been Louis, I should have selected the most valuable object I could find, for I knew how Henry hated to lose anything of value. I believe he would have regretted the gesture as soon as he had made it. But there was little malice in Louis. He had never been interested in earthly possessions and took the smallest object he could find.
Louis declined further hospitality and declared he was sufficiently rested to make the journey back across the sea and return to his son for he was sure Thomas Becket would not have failed him and that God would have answered his prayers by now.
And sure enough, when he returned to France, he found that Philip Augustus had completely recovered. Everyone was sure that his return to health had begun at that moment when Louis was on his knees at the tomb of the martyr.
It was a miracle.
It was of great importance now to go ahead with the coronation. My son Henry was at the French Court with Marguerite. He would be dismayed at the recovery of Philip Augustus, which had put the French crown out of his reach. I hoped he was not foolish enough to show it.
Before anything else there had to be a thanksgiving service at St. Denis. The whole French nation must show its gratitude for the heir’s return to health.
My son was to ride beside the King of France in the procession. Louis had been delighted by the show of friendship which had been given him in England and the fact that the King had prayed with him so earnestly for the recovery of Philip Augustus when the latter’s death could have brought such power to his own son. Louis’s faith in human nature was almost equal to his faith in God. It was nave of him, but rather lovable in a way, and there was so little that was lovable about Louis that I wanted to remember it.
There was an incident during the journey to the abbey.
Louis had been looking ill apparently soon after his return. His wan looks had been commented on, and as they came near the abbey, one of the knights near to him saw him sway sidewards. He was just in time to catch him before he fell. He was carried back to the castle and the doctors were sent for. They diagnosed a seizure and thought he had not long to live.
Louis was paralyzed in his arm and leg, but he did not die immediately.
Now the coronation of Philip Augustus was very necessary. Louis sent for the Count of Flanders and put the care of his son in his hands. The Count of Flanders had been one of those who had joined with young Henry against his father. I wondered what my husband thought to see him in such a position, guiding the new King of France, for with Louis incapacitated, that was what Philip Augustus would soon be. So poor sick Louis—unwise as ever—chose the Count of Flanders to guide his son through the coronation and after. My son with his wife Marguerite was present at this impressive occasion. What bitterness he must have been feeling! I knew my son well. He had come very close to winning the crown, and Thomas Becket had intervened.
The old King had undoubtedly shortened his life by crossing the seas to get assistance.
So Philip Augustus went to Rheims while his father was in bed, and the boy’s uncle, who was his mother’s brother and Archbishop of Rheims, crowned him.
Louis would be praying, of course, for his son’s welfare. In his mind he would see it all: his son-in-law Henry holding the crown which his brother-in-law would place on his son’s head, and the Count of Flanders carrying the golden sword.
And there he lay in his bed, a broken man, worn out by