ouis through his father and through Blanche de
Castille. The Crown of Thorns, indeed, had been in pawn to Venice. Louis
and Blanche went to meet the sacred relic, which was escorted to its
resting place in Paris by great crowds singing hymns and displaying
every mark of the utmost reverence. For the piece of the Cross, bought
three years later, in 1241, the same elaborate ceremonial was observed;
and in the great procession which accompanied Saint Louis as he bore the
Cross on his shoulders through the streets of Paris walked Blanche and
Marguerite, barefooted.

When the Tartar hordes of Ghenghis Khan overran Poland and Hungary, the
whole of Christian Europe trembled with fear and horror. If these
barbarians could not be checked, and they continued to pour in
resistless floods over the land, what was to become of Christendom?
"What shall we do, my son?" cried Blanche; "what will become of us?"
"Fear not, mother," replied the brave king; "let us trust in Heaven."
And then he added that famous pun which all his biographers repeat: "If
these Tartars come upon us, either we shall send them back to Tartarus,
whence they came, or they will send us all to Heaven."

Out of this threatening of the Tartars grew a religious persecution, in
which Blanche took a part not discreditable to her. When things went
wrong in the Middle Ages, it was the fault of the weak and oppressed; if
it was not the witches, it was the Jews who had brought misfortune upon
the land, and who must be punished before God would be pleased again. In
this case it was the Jews, who were accused of lending aid to the
Tartars. The popular odium incurred by this accusation encouraged the
prosecution of an investigation, ordered by Pope Gregory IX., into the
doctrines of the Talmud. France appears to have been the only country
where the investigation was actually made. Several Jewish rabbis were
haled before the court, presided over by Blanche, to explain and answer
for their books. The fairness with which Blanche presided is indeed
remarkable when one remembers the severity of the common judicial
procedure of the time. The chief rabbi, Yehiel, appealed to her several
times against the injustice of being forced to answer certain questions,
and she sustained his plea. When Yehiel complained that, whatever the
court decided, he and his people could not be protected from the blind
rage of the populace, Blanche replied: "Say no more of that. We are
resolved to protect