ion of the marvellous relics he brought home
from Holy Land. Those relics were all here, together with the other
costly possessions of the chapel--the crown of thorns, the true cross,
Aaron's rod that budded, the great crown of St. Louis, the head of the
holy lance, one of the nails used in our Lord's crucifixion, the tables
of stone, some of the blood of Christ, the purple robe, and the milk of
the Virgin Mary--all borne in jewelled reliquaries by bishops.

Four cardinals in scarlet robes followed--Givri, Tournon, Le Veneur, and
Chatillon--an uncongenial group, in which the violent persecutor and the
future partisan of the Reformation walked side by side. But the central
point in the entire procession was occupied not by these, but by Jean du
Bellay, Bishop of Paris, bearing aloft a silver cross in which was
enclosed the consecrated wafer of the eucharist, whose title to
adoration it was the grand object of the celebration to vindicate. The
king's three sons--the dauphin, and the Dukes of Orleans and
Angouleme--with a fourth prince of the blood--the Duke of Bourbon
Vendome--held the supports of a magnificent canopy of velvet, sprinkled
with golden fleurs-de-lis, above the bishop and his sacred charge.
Francis himself walked behind him, with a retinue of nobles, officers of
government, judges of parliament, and other civilians closing the line.
The king was naturally the object of universal observation.

Dressed in robes of black velvet lined with costly furs, he devoutly
followed the elevated host, with uncovered head, and with a large waxen
taper in his hands. Several stations had, at great expense, been erected
along the designated route. At each of these the procession halted, and
the Bishop of Paris placed the silver cross with its precious contents
in a niche made to receive it. Then the king, having handed his taper to
the Cardinal of Lorraine at his side, knelt down and reverently
worshipped with joined hands, until a grand anthem in honor of the
sacrament had been intoned. The scene had been well studied, and it made
the desired impression upon the by-standers. "There was no one among the
people," say the registers of the Hotel de Ville in unctuous phrase, "be
he small or great, that did not shed warm tears and pray God in behalf
of the king, whom he beheld performing so devout an act and worthy of
long remembrance. And it is to be believed that there lives not a Jew
nor an infidel who, had he witnessed the exa