The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [21]
His upbringing could never be completely eradicated. Even I, with all my wiles, could not do that. But I did not give up hope.
It was a glittering ceremony which took place in the cathedral at Poitiers when Louis and I were consecrated as Duke and Duchess of Aquitaine.
Afterward we went back to the castle for a banquet, and we were feasting merrily when Suger came into the hall.
He strode to where Louis was seated and fell on his knees.
Louis rose to his feet and I saw his color fade. He knew what this meant.
“Long live the King,” said Suger, kissing Louis’s hand.
Poor Louis! He had only just become accustomed to a wife and now a crown was being thrust at him—neither of these had he wanted, although he was becoming reconciled to his wife. The unwelcome crown was going to weigh heavily on his head.
As for myself, a great triumph was rising in me.
I had just been proclaimed Duchess of Aquitaine and now I had become Queen of France.
Queen of France
PARIS IS A FASCINATING city. I have never known one like it. When I knew it, it stood on a crowded island in the River Seine. Parts of the wall which the Romans had built around it remained, and where it had fallen away steps had been made down to the river, making a landing-place for the numerous craft. Two bridges connected the Ile de la Cit with the banks of the Seine and that extension of the city which was fast expanding.
The island city seemed to be divided into two parts—the west dominated by the Court and the east by the Church in which rose the gray walls of the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The eastern streets were full of churchmen, and those on the west side housed knights and barons. The sound of bells was ever present. Every little byway was crowded and boats of all description filled the river. Students flocked to the place to hear the monk Peter Abelard who had arrived in Paris to preach; there were scholars from many countries eager to hear him.
I had never seen such a motley crowd. There were quarters where the tanners lived—butchers, bakers and tradesmen of all kinds. They filled the streets, rubbing shoulders with the prelates and gentlemen of the Court. It was a city of vitality. Young students sat about in taverns talking of Life; traders shouted their wares. They joked with each other; they abused each other; everything was there—except silence.
Intrigued as I was, I felt homesick for Poitiers and Bordeaux.
I did my best to make the Court similar to those I had known all my life. I had brought many followers with me; I had my minstrels and my poets. I wanted to re-create the Courts of Love in Paris—and this with a King who was almost a recluse and a mother-in-law who disapproved of everything I did.
I was so sure of myself. My friends were there. I was frivolous; I was pleasure-loving and my success with Louis made me feel omnipotent. He was very much in love with me and I found I could bring him to my point of view with the utmost ease because he wanted so much to please me. I could have my own way with him and considering the difference in our natures, that was certainly an achievement.
I was gentle with him in those days. I suppose that was how I achieved my hold over him. I was often impatient with his pious ways. There were times when he seemed to be trying to turn the Court into a monastery.
He was constantly at church. He used to pray for what seemed like hours at night when I lay shivering in my bed waiting for him. I took a venomous delight in contemplating how cold he must be kneeling on the floor. But of course people like that enjoyed discomfort; they took a delight in it because they felt it must be good.
I enjoyed riding through the streets of Paris, for the people cheered us. When they considered what I had brought to France, they must have thought Louis had made a good choice.
But I had my trials—chief of which in the beginning was my mother-in-law, Adelaide of Savoy, and of course the Abbot Suger was always there in the background casting a shadow over any form of pleasure.