their training in the art of
war. Robert seems to have been of a most inquiring and intelligent
nature, but when he had scarce passed his seventeenth year, Mahaut,
with scant warning, saw this her only son stricken in death just as he
was about to enter the ranks of knighthood. In the archives of Arras,
the Capital of Artois, may be found a discoloured parchment containing
the inventory of the equipment provided for the youthful Robert in
anticipation of his initiation. What sorrow is enshrined in these
faded pages! It is not sorrow for death, but the bitterer sorrow for
something that has never lived, or, rather, that has lived only in the
heart, like spring blossom blighted ere fruiting-time. In the Church
of St. Denis, where modern restoration has but emphasised the
transitoriness and vanity of human glory, there can still be seen the
tomb of this youth, carved soon after his death by Pepin de Huy, and
once painted, as was all such carved work. Even to the mere student it
is interesting as being the only existing monument that can with
certainty be attributed to this celebrated sculptor, and also as
being, in Gothic art, one of the first essays in portraiture in
recumbent figures of the dead, as contrasted with mere effigy. For the
deeper thinker it has even greater significance. Of all the good and
great works that Mahaut conceived and initiated--the churches,
castles, hospitals, which she built and enriched for the glory of God
and the safety and solace of mankind--all have passed away. This
simple tomb alone remains. But its very simplicity is eloquent, for
around it there seems to hover that never-dying spirit of love and
goodness and beauty to which, throughout her life, Mahaut contributed
in such large measure, and which was her real and lasting gift to the
world.

Life as mirrored in the Castle records gives little else than a
pleasing picture of Mahaut's relations with all her dependants, as
well as with those with whom she was connected, whether by ties of
friendship, of politics, or of the common courtesies of life. Her
immediate household was naturally her first care. Twice a year, at
Easter and All Saints, a distribution was made of cloth and furs. Some
of these, fine and costly, were for those in personal attendance on
the Countess, whilst others were in the nature of liveries. Others,
again, of still coarser make, such as Irish serge, with sheep or
rabbit skin for warmth in winter, were given to those