In the great square stood the companies, armed with their "good-days," and drawn up in deep file along the houses. Deconinck, at the head of the Clothworkers, had his right flank covered with the egg-market; Breydel, with his Butchers, occupied the side toward the Stone street; the other companies were distributed in lesser bodies along the third side of the square. The Lilyards and principal nobles were assembled on a richly decorated scaffolding immediately in front of the town-hall.
At eleven o'clock, the angels who were stationed upon the gatehouse gave the signal of the king and queen's approach, and the royal cavalcade at last passed through the Cathelyne gate into the town.
First rode four heralds on magnificent white horses, from whose trumpets hung the banners of their master, Philip the Fair, with golden lilies on a blue field. They sounded a melodious march as they went, and charmed all hearers with the perfection of their playing.
Some twenty yards after the heralds came the king, Philip the Fair, on a horse of majestic figure and paces. Among all the knights about him there was not one that approached him in beauty of features. His black hair flowed in long waving locks upon his shoulders; his complexion vied with that of any lady for softness and clearness; while its light-brown hue imparted to his countenance an expression of manly vigor. His smile was sweet, and his manner remarkably captivating. Added to this, a lofty stature, well-formed limbs, and easy carriage made him in all externals the most perfect knight of his day; and thence his surname, by which he was known throughout Europe, of Le Bel, or, as we translate it, the Fair. His dress was richly embroidered with gold and silver, yet not overloaded with ornament; it was clear that good taste, and not love of display, had guided the selection. The silvered helmet which glittered on his head bore a large plume, which fell down behind him to his horse's croup.
Beside him rode his consort, the imperious Joanna of Navarre, upon a dun-colored palfrey, her apparel all one blaze of gold, silver, and jewels. A long riding-dress of gold-stuff, secured in front with a lace of silver cord, fell in heavy folds to the ground, and glistened as she went with its thousand ornaments. Both she and her palfrey were so beset with studs, buttons, and tassels of the most costly materials that scarcely a single vacant spot could be perceived upon them.
Arrogance and vanity filled the whole soul of this princess, and it might be seen jn her countenance that the pomp of her entry had filled her heart with pride. Full-blown in insolence, she cast her haughty looks over the conquered people, who filled the windows, and had even climbed upon the roofs of the houses in order to look on at the magnificent show.
On the other side of the king rode his son, Louis Hutin, a young prince of good disposition, and who carried his greatness unassumingly. He regarded these new subjects of his house with a compassionate air; and the eyes of the citizens ever found a gracious smile upon his countenance. Louis possessed all the good qualities of his father, unalloyed by any of the vices that might have been looked for in the son of Joanna of Navarre.
Immediately after the king and queen came their personal attendants—gentlemen of the chamber and ladies of honor; then a numerous cavalcade of nobles, all magnificently arrayed. Among them might be distinguished Enguerrand de Marigny, De Chatillon, St. Pol, De Nesle, De Nogaret, and many others. The royal standard and numerous other banners waved merrily over this princely company.
Last of all came a body of men-at-arms, or heavy cavalry, some three hundred strong, all of them armed from head to foot in steel, and with long lances projecting above their heads. Their heavy chargers, too, were steel-barbed from counter to crupper.
The citizens, every here and there gatheredinto groups, looked on in solemn silence; not a single cry of welcome ascended from all that multitude, no single sign of joy could anywhere be seen. Stung to the soul at the coldness of this reception, Joanna of Navarre was still more irritated at the looks of scorn and hate which she could perceive from time to time were turned upon her.
As soon as the procession reached the marketplace, the two figures of Fame, planted on the pedestals, put their trumpets to their mouths and blew a blast of welcome that resounded throughout the square; upon which the magistrates and other Lilyards (of whom, however, there were but few) raised the cry, "France! France! Long live the king! long live the queen!"
Still more intense was the inward rage of the proud queen, when not a single voice from the people or the companies joined in this cry and all the citizens stood motionless, without giving the slightest sign of respect or pleasure! Still, for the moment she swallowed her wrath, and contrived so to command her features that nothing of what she felt was perceptible on her countenance.
A little on one side of the throne was stationed a group of noble ladies, mounted on the most beautiful palfreys; and all, in honor of the occasion, so bedecked with jewelry that the eye could hardly bear to rest upon them.
Matilda, the fair young daughter of the Lion of Flanders, had her place in the front row, and was the very first that fell under the queen's eye. She was most magnificently attired. A high pointed hat of yellow silk, copiously trimmed with ribbons of red velvet, sat lightly and gracefully upon her head; from under it fell a flowing mantilla of the finest lawn, which, shading her cheeks, covered neck and shoulders, and reached down behind below her waist; while, suspended from its point, and fastened there by a
