ce, including the
Countesses of Toulouse and Flanders and other noble dames. The costume
of this troop was the most notable thing about them. The gay and
extravagant queen had devoted much time and thought to the devising of a
dress sufficiently showy for herself and her ladies, and, according to
the accounts of the chronicler William of Tyre, to whom we are indebted
for most of the details of her crusading exploits, Eleanor and her
companions presented a gorgeous spectacle. Accompanied by bands of
troubadours and musicians, with much flaunting of gay banners and
glittering of spangles, Queen Eleanor, clad man-fashion, in glittering
spangle armor, and her ladies rode in the van of the army. Their
discarded distaffs these martial ladies sent to recreant knights who had
preferred staying at home to crusading.

The saintly Bernard of Clairvaux, the most powerful religious influence
of his time, one whose inspired preaching could move vast audiences to a
perfect frenzy of religious exaltation, had been induced, almost
compelled, to preach the crusade for that loyal son of the Church, Louis
VII. Saint Bernard himself confessed to serious misgivings about the
righteousness of this crusade, and would not be a second Peter the
Hermit to lead the vast host of the Cross. One can imagine that the
doings of Louis's queen must have filled the soul of Saint Bernard with
misgivings still more serious. Eleanor, indeed, was incapable of
religious feeling of sufficient depth to sympathize with the purer
motives of fanaticism that inspired the best of the crusaders. For her
it was a pleasure jaunt, a glorious opportunity to enjoy all the pomp
and circumstance of being a queen, and at least the show of power.
Louis, perhaps, would have been glad to leave his rather too theatrical
and frivolous consort behind, for the crusade was to him a serious
business; but it is likely that the large contingent of Gascons and
Poitevins, devoted to their troubadour duchess, were hardly so eager
about following the King of France.

The crusade, whose history we need not dwell upon, was like a triumphal
procession as far as Constantinople. To be sure, there were misery and
sickness and death among the hordes of poor camp followers and pilgrims
who had sought the protection of the great army as they journeyed to
that Holy Land whose mere sight, they fancied, would be as a balm to
their seared consciences; but Queen Eleanor and her princesses
experienced n