The Life of Saint Louis IX: A True Soldier of Christ

“What I have written besides this, I have written to do additional honour to that true saint; for it is through him that a man can best see that from the beginning of his reign to the end of his life no layman of our time spent his whole life in so saintly a manner” (Joinville 23). Thus writes Sir John of Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne and friend of the great saint whom he was referring to: Saint Louis IX. King of France during the Middle Ages from 1226 to 1270, he truly represented his title as “the Most Christian King.” He was noble, trustworthy, pious, and honorable—a fact attributed by everyone who knew him. Besides being the monarch of a great country, St. Louis acquired the roles of a father, an army commander and soldier, a judge, and an architect. With so many duties, a true King would need to take them head-on and only desire to please God in all his thoughts, words, and deeds. And that was the thing that Saint Louis IX did, which made him different from all of the Kings of France. That was what made him a Saint.

On April 25, 1214, Queen Blanche of Castile gave birth to St. Louis, naming him after his father, Louis VIII (Pernoud 65). Though Blanche, a pious woman, trained all her children in virtue, young Louis had a special love for his mother. It is because of her “care and attention in the education of St Louis [that] we are indebted, under God, for the great example of his virtues” (Thurston and Attwater 394). In 1226, tragety struck young Louis, when his father died either from an “epidemic fever” or “from poison, administered to him by Thibault of Champagne” (Fling 80). One can easily imagine how heartbroken the twelve-year-old Saint was when he learned about his father’s death. But Queen Blanche comforted Louis, saying to him: “We must be brave, you and I, for you are now the king—Louis IX, King of France, and the king must not cry. Be brave, my son. Your father loved you tenderly and had great plans for you, and he would not wish you to grieve” (Croft 38-40). Though Louis was soon officially crowned at the coronation ceremony, it would be seemingly impossible for him, being an inexperienced young lad, to govern France at such a tender age. Hence, Queen Blanche governed as the Regent of France. From 1226 to 1234, she was pivotal in keeping France stable.

As Queen Blanche’s regency ended, Louis IX married Margaret of Provence on May 27, 1234. During this blessed marriage, eleven children were born to them: five sons and six daughters (Cruz 411). Louis was a heroic father in many ways. Biographers have recounted the extraordinary verity that St. Louis could sincerely love his mother, wife, and children, without having them govern him once. Furthermore, St. Louis made it clear that he was the head of his family. He properly corrected his wife, disciplined his children, and took time to teach both wife and children the Catholic religion (Hoyt 481; Cruz 412-413; Croft 41-44). In like manner, the regal traits that he displayed as King made France thrive.

The great Catholic historian Hilaire Belloc says of Saint Louis: “he himself observed men with very great wisdom, often silently; and his eyes, which were a little weary even in youth from too much questioning of himself and of the world, and from too much business of fighting of every kind within and without, were always luminous and often smiled” (“Stories” 179; “Miniatures” 161-162). To this we can add that Louis IX was one of the few kings during the Middle Ages who recognized that he must use this kingly power—given to him by God—for the good of his people—not just for himself (Croft 41; Wolff and Hazard 488). Additionally, Louis IX had a great aversion to lying and hypocrisy; he was lauded for his truthfulness, self-control, purity, and holiness (Tanner, Previté-Orton and Brooke 332). Once, some of Louis IX’s nobles complained that he heard two or three Masses each morning. They said that such time would be better spent in managing the affairs of France. After patiently listening until they were all finished, Louis replied: “And if I spent my time at hunting or in the practice of arms, there would be no complaint, I wager, that the time could be better spent. But because I prefer the great Sacrifice you must complain. Know this my lords, and let others know it, that your king loves the company of the King of kings. When you can show me in what I have been neglectful through my Masses, I will hear your complaints” (Croft 41-42). St. Louis was also very devoted to the poor, calling them “the soldiers of the realm and his protectors” (Pernoud 151-152). He invited them into his estate and fed them at his own table. Those who could not cut their own meat had theirs cut by the King himself; he would also give them some money when they left. In addition, Louis built a few hospitals and aided the lepers by feeding them and performing other services for them (Cruz 413-414; Fling 83).

Another distinct character trait of St. Louis was his keen sense of justice. He made sure that justice was meted out to all, shunning the shameful nemesis of nepotism at all times. To illustrate, when Charles of Anjou once owed his brother, Louis IX, an exceedingly large debt, St. Louis demanded that he pay the debt. Although Charles rebelled, Louis IX was unyielding, and Charles finally paid the debt in full (Tanner, Previté-Orton and Brooke 348). In addition, there were many chances for St. Louis to enlarge the Kingdom of France, but he refused to do so because he did not wish to harm Europe at a future date (Hoyt 482). From the many treaties he made, it is clear that he only desired to bring peace to France and eliminate the roots for new wars. As France’s King, he always performed his duties as a national sovereign and as a Catholic very well, always wishing Christendom to be bettered by his deeds (Goyau 369; Thurston and Attwater 394; Lane-Poole 231-232). Truly, St. Louis’ monarchy showed, to a great extent, how much good can result by means of the actions of one good Catholic man (see Figure 1).

Despite Saint Louis’ consistently high moral caliber, his health was rickety. As the authors of The Cambridge Medieval History explain, Louis IX suffered from “chronic attacks of erysipelas which caused him intense pain” (331-332). Early in 1244, Louis IX was assailed by a lethal bout of dysentery and typhoid fever, while he was staying at the abbey of Maubuisson in France. His condition worsened so quickly, that doctors deemed his recovery hopeless.

The chroniclers relate that Blanche had the relics of Christ’s Passion taken to Louis’s bedside, where she prayed aloud: “Lord God! Save the kingdom of France!” Louis had already bidden those near him farewell: “Thus it comes that I, who was most rich and most noble in this world, and exalted above all others by my treasure, my arms, and my alliances, cannot now force grim death or my illness to a truce, were it even for an hour. What then are all these worth?” (Pernoud 230-232).

When the king closed his eyes and his heart stopped beating, the sobbing of women was all that could be heard for a few minutes. Suddenly, the king moaned. Doctors swarmed by his bedside, and were able to force down his mouth a few drops of warm broth. Slowly but surely, St. Louis began to breathe normally and he recovered from his illness (Pernoud 230-232).

All of France confidently believed that God had miraculously preserved St. Louis from the clutches of imminent death. Thankful to God for having safeguarded him, Louis IX wished to do penance for his sins. He did not waste any time, for a day afterwards, he publicly vowed, with a cheerful heart, that he would go on a Crusade to rescue the Holy Lands from the Turks. Three days later, Louis IX still stood by his vow; he even had sewn a cross on his royal uniform. But Blanche did not share her son’s enthusiasm. With many nobles and the Bishop of Paris, she tried to dissuade St. Louis, telling him that he was not being reasonable when he made the vow from his sickbed (Pernoud 235-236). After patiently waiting and listening to these protests, Louis smiled, tore away his newly affixed cross, and acknowledged that he had lost his mind when he was sick. For a few seconds, bishop, queen, and nobles shouted for joy. Yet, what happened next was quite unpredictable. Louis IX put his finger to his lips and, after the crowd quieted, said: “Friends, you will allow I have my wits about me now. My will is free and nothing impaired. So now I would my cross be restored to me. He that is All-knowing be my witness, that I will not touch a bite [of food] till I shall have got it back again” (Pernoud 236). Saint Louis made his resolve, and he was going to stand by it no matter what!

It was provident that St. Louis avowed when he did, for, if Europe did not send aid soon, all of Christian Jerusalem would soon be conquered by the bloodthirsty Turks (“Louis IX” 61). On November 27, 1244, Bishop Galeran of Acre (see Figure 2) came to Paris to tell Louis how much ground the Turks were gaining in the Middle East. Knowing that this was his chance to fulfill his crusading vows, St. Louis told Galeran to communicate to the Pope that he would aid Christendom by leading an army of crusaders against these enemies of Christ. This was the start of the Crusade that would go down in history as the “Seventh Crusade.” Yet, what made Louis IX think that this Crusade would be more successful than past ones? Robert Lee Wolff and Harry W. Hazard (488), along with Sir Frank Marzials (xxxii-xxxiii) all assert that Louis IX was not a timid crusader like Philip Augustus, nor an edgy one like Richard the Lionhearted. This king was ready to set aside all the necessary preparatory time, funds, and strength to the carrying out of a victorious crusade. For four years, then, from 1244 to 1248, Louis gathered troops and supplies for this war. Before he left France on August 25, 1248, Louis IX appeared at the dedication ceremony of the Sainte Chapelle in Paris, where the relics of the Passion—including the Crown of Thorns—were “housed.” When Saint Louis finally left his homeland, leaving Queen Blanche as Regent in his stead, he stopped at Cyprus to gather some more troops. Afterwards, he sailed to Egypt and reached Damietta (see Figure 2) on June 4, 1249 (Riley-Smith 160; Runciman 256). What happened next, occurred rapidly.

The moment that Louis IX arrived at the shoreline of Damietta, a battle against the Turks commenced. Fortunately, for St. Louis, he and his army conquered their enemies without much difficulty. To thank God for this initial success, St. Louis commanded the Te Deum and other hymns of thanksgiving to be sung. He then entered the city, not with the gaudiness of a vanquisher, but with the meekness of a sincerely Christian prince, walking discalced with Queen Margaret and his brothers. St. Louis then decreed his troops to not slay any Turk when it was possible to make him a prisoner. Furthermore, he told his soldiers to not commit any crimes against the citizens of the newly conquered town. To his grief, in spite of his alertness, countless soldiers inflicted disgraceful acts of brutality upon others (Thurston and Attwater 396). Subsequently, St. Louis led his army south, south-west towards Cairo along the Nile River. Of the many skirmishes fought between Louis IX and the Turkish armies, the predominately disastrous one was held on February 8, 1250, on Shrove Tuesday, at Mansourah (See Figure 3). During this battle, because of the rashness and folly of one of St. Louis IX’s brothers, Count Robert of Artois, Robert and his division of three hundred Templars led an attack against the enormous Turkish army by themselves. Not only were these Templars killed, but also one third of Louis IX’s knights died in battle (Duggan 234-6; Lane-Poole 236). After this devastating loss, St. Louis could not progress any further into Egypt. After imploring God for His assistance and guidance, St. Louis retreated towards Damietta. For over a month, King Louis IX’s army dwindled down until, on April 5, 1250, the Turks overly overpowered and overwhelmed the outnumbered Christian army. There was no escape. Soldiers were dying on all sides. When it was rumored that Saint Louis was taken captive, and that the only chance the knights had for saving their king’s life was to surrender unconditionally, they did what they thought was best for France, and for the King whom they all loved. They surrendered (Duggan 237).

During Louis IX’s month-long captivity, he prayed the Divine Office each day with two chaplains. When the Turks threatened him with torture, he replied by saying that they could do what they wished with his body. He was not afraid of death. The Turks were so impressed with his bravery, that they stopped trying to scare him (Thurston and Attwater 397). After he signed a Truce with the Moslems, Louis IX and some of his men were released and retired to Acre. There, Louis wrote a lengthy letter to his people in France in August of 1250. In this letter, Louis wrote about how these Turks did not obey the terms of the Truce. These infidels, besides not releasing all of the King’s soldiers, angered St. Louis further when he learned that they had forced a few hundred of his soldiers “at the point of the sword, like lambs led to slaughter, to abjure the Catholic faith and embrace that of the vile Mahomet[.]” Though Louis IX observed all the terms of the Truce, he lamentably wrote, “we have no certainty of seeing the prisoners released or our property returned” (Joinville 251-253).

Without the Sacraments and a strong faith, one could easily despair in such dire straits. Instead of giving up hope, Louis IX placed his trust in God, Our Lady, and the Saints. Though his crusade was a military defeat, four years later, it was transformed into a diplomatic success. The Seventh Crusade concluded advantageous alliances, and, through it, Louis IX was able to fortify and boost the Christian cities of Syria defenses, such as Acre, Aleppo, Jaffa, and Sayette (“Louis IX”; Joinville 160-176). Even so, despite these alliances, the irate Turks destroyed 115 churches in the Middle East and in Northern Africa (Lane-Poole 241).

Louis IX did not want to leave the Middle East. He would have liked to remain there, but he had to come back to France when, in 1254, he heard that Queen Blanche had just died (Joinville 178-182). Upon his return, St. Louis felt that he needed to renounce his “temporal responsibilities and become a monk” to pay for his past sins (Pernoud 294). Nevertheless, God had other plans for St. Louis; He wanted him to revitalize France and make sure that she lived up to her grand title as “the Eldest Daughter of the Church.” After much prayer, Louis concluded that, only when he and his people were pious Catholics could he go forward with a new crusade against the Turks. He thought that God would not aid the people who fought for Him until they were entitled to His Divine Support (Lloyd 40-41). Accordingly, St. Louis started his reform by increasing his own penances (Riley-Smith 161). For example, he gave up wearing silk clothing and slept on a board covered with a cotton mattress instead of the comfortable, royal feather bed. Louis also put an end to gambling and dice in France, ordered prostitutes to leave her towns (and built centers, such as the House of the Filles-Dieu, where they could live and be reformed), punished those who blasphemed, backed new action in extirpating heresy, and prohibited usury (Lloyd 40-41; Jordan 675).

During this time of true Christian reform, King Louis IX asked Joinville: “Which would you prefer—to be a leper, or to have committed a mortal sin?” Joinville replied by saying he “would rather commit thirty mortal sins than become a leper.” A day later, St. Louis rebuked Joinville, telling him:

You should know that there is no leprosy so ugly as being in mortal sin; for the soul
that is in mortal sin is the likeness of the devil, and that is why no leprosy can be
more revolting. We know well enough that when a man dies he is cured of the
leprosy of his body; but when a man who has committed a mortal sin is dying he
cannot know for certain that in his lifetime his repentance has been sufficient to win
God’s pardon: so it is that he must be very afraid that his leprosy will stay with him
as long as God is in Paradise. Hence I beg you with all my strength, to set your heart,
for the love of God and for my love, to choosing rather that any evil should befall your body ... than that mortal sin should enter into your soul” (Joinville 28-29).

From Louis IX’s actions and words it can be clearly deduced that he neither believed in nor practiced a false sense of tolerance: he knew that to do so would be a great evil. On another note, Louis IX helped build several architectures. One of these, located in Corbeil, held the relics of Christ’s Cross for many years. Louis IX could have ended his days in France, but there was something still bothering him. After being away from the Middle East for almost six years, Louis IX was browbeaten by recalling the sufferings of the Christians there. As a result, he began to wear the cross on his clothing to show others that he aimed to aid these Christians again (Thurston and Attwater 397).

From 1265 to 1269, Sultan Baybars of Tunis conquered the Christian cities of Caesarea, Arsur, Saphet, Jaffa, Antioch, and Nazareth. Clearly, the “Flame of Islam” would not be extinguished if Europe did nothing to stop it from spreading (Thurston and Attwater 397; Lloyd 41-43). One saintly king named Louis IX knew that he could keep quiet no longer. After hearing about the recent success of this Sultan, St. Louis privately informed Pope Clement IV in 1266 about his objective to go on another Crusade. Then, on March 24, 1267, St. Louis publicly made his crusading vows before an assembly of French nobles. Historians would later call this crusade the “Eighth” or “Tunisian Crusade.” Among the contributors to the Crusade included his brother, Count Alphonse of Poitiers, who raised well over 100,000 pounds tournois, mostly from his own domains (Riley-Smith 174). This time, the purpose of Louis’ crusade, as confirmed by Louis’ confessor, Geoffrey of Beaulieu, was to head towards Tunisia and convert the Sultan of Tunis, who was now contemplating baptism (Riley-Smith 175; Duggan 244-245). The King had hoped that if Baybars could be converted, then both his and the Sultan’s army could join forces against the other infidel Turks. In addition, it was commonly believed that Tunisia could be conquered in a relatively short amount of time (Wolff and Hazard 514). All preparations having being made, Louis IX embarked from France on July 1, 1270 (Tanner, Previté-Orton and Brooke 360). Despite the fact that St. Louis was sick when he departed, he did not foresee that he would never return to his kingdom alive.

After a half-moth voyage, Louis IX arrived at Tunisia’s harbor on July 18. As soon as the crusaders had assembled on the seashore, Turkish natives beleaguered them. Though these inhabitants tried to cut off the crusaders from their water supply, the undaunted soldiers of St. Louis IX’s army checked the sorties and arrived at Carthage. They found fresh water, but not Baybars (Wolff and Hazard 515-516). When Louis realized that Baybars had left the city and had headed towards Tunis, he knew he had been “grievously betrayed.” Despite this misfortune, the King courageously commanded his army to follow the Sultan’s trail. However, when the army reached the city, they could find neither water nor food. Hence, they had to bear the onslaught of the unbearable heat and various diseases. Related by most historians, this betrayal was crucial to the Crusade’s failure (Duggan 244-245; Cruz 416-417; Lamb, “The Flame of Islam” 417-418).

At this time, Saint Louis was overcome by malarial sickness and typhus (Wolff and Hazard 398), as were his sons: Philip, John Tristan and another unnamed son. Finding nothing but death at Tunis, St. Louis somehow made it back to Carthage alive. It was upon a hill in this town, “upon the eastern side which overlooks the water below, at a spot just in front of the place where the Saracens had built out of the blocks of Carthaginian ruin a castle of their own, that the King of France lay dying ” (Belloc, “Miniatures” 171-172). The other two sons having died, St. Louis gave his last instructions to Philip, his heir. These are a few of them:

"My dear son, my first precept is to set your heart on the love of God, for without that no man can be saved. Watch that you do not do anything displeasing to God, that is to say, any mortal sin; you should rather suffer any sort of torment than commit a mortal sin. . . . . Fly from and avoid the company of evil men. . . . . Love what will increase your honour and virtue, and hate all evil, wherever it may be. . . . . Let no man be so bold as to utter in your presence any word that induces or incites to sin, or slanderously to speak evil of any behind his back; and do not allow anything disrespectful to God or His saints to be said in your presence. . . . . Work to exterminate all vile sins in your country, and in particular stamp out with all your might vile oaths and heresy" (Joinville 213-216).

On August 24, Louis IX received the Last Sacraments. Early the next morning, he ordered that a bed of ashes be prepared for him to lay and die upon (Belloc, “Miniatures” 176-177). At the hour that Jesus Christ died, St. Louis, in imitation of the God Whom he loved so dearly, repeated His last words in like fashion: “Into thy hands I commend my soul” (Cruz 417). Just when the king’s death was being announced, Charles of Anjou arrived from Sicily. After shedding a tear, Charles immediately decided to abort the crusade. He ratified a treaty with the Turks on All Souls Day and embarked for Sicily with St. Louis’ army on November 18, 1270 (Wolff and Hazard 516). All along the way, the saint’s body was brought back to France in a procession. Crowds gathered and knelt as, “through Italy, the Alps, Lyon, and Cluny,” the King’s coffin passed by. In 1271, on the eve of Pentecost, the saint’s body reached Paris. Soon afterward, a solemn requiem mass was celebrated at the Cathedral of Notre Dame, and his body was laid in the abbey of Saint-Denis, “the tomb of the kings of France” (“Louis IX). Because of the many cures wrought by St. Louis’ intercession, Pope Boniface III canonized this holy king in 1297 and declared him a “Confessor” during the reign of his grandson, King Philip IV (Croft 44; Cruz 417).

“He used his riches to succour the poor, he despised the soft things of life. He loved labour and defended the churches. He established the throne on justice. He caused France to enjoy peace. The Church owes to him her prosperity, and the whole of France the honour wherewith she is surrounded.” Thus, go a few lines from the 14th century “Office of Saint Louis” (qtd. in Tanner, Previté-Orton and Brooke 361). From St. Louis, let us learn, then, that we too can do great things for God and for His Holy Catholic Church if we base our whole life on doing the will of God. Let us ask St. Louis to pray for us, that we may imitate him, who was in every way a true Soldier of Christ!


(Bibliography available on request.)

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The author would appreciate any sincere feed back/criticism. Written in Spring of 2004, Senior Year of Highschool.