The Christmas of 1462 found Henry and his Queen at Almazon; and thither came messengers from Barcelona with their tale of rebellion and the fixed resolution they had made never to submit to King John’s yoke. Instead the citizens offered their allegiance to Castile, imploring help and support in the struggle before them. Henry had been unmoved by Blanche’s appeal, for he knew the difficulties of an invasion of Navarre, but the present project flattered his vanity. He would merely dispatch a few troops to Barcelona, as few as he could under the circumstances, and the Catalans in return would gain him, at best an important harbour on the Mediterranean, at worst would act as a thorn in the side of his ambitious neighbour. He graciously consented therefore to send 2500 horse, under the leadership of one of the Beaumonts, as earnest of his good intentions; but almost before this force had reached Barcelona, those intentions had already changed, and he had agreed to the mediation of the King of France in the disputes between him and the King of Aragon. Louis XI., “the universal spider,” as Chastellain called him, had been spreading his web of diplomacy over the southern peninsula. By the Treaty of Olito, signed by him and King John in April, 1462, he had promised to lend that monarch seven hundred lances, with archers, artillery, and ammunition, in return for two hundred thousand gold crowns to be paid him on the reduction of Barcelona. Whether he would ever receive this sum was perhaps a doubtful matter; but Louis had accepted the pledge of the border counties of Roussillon and Cerdagne, that commanded the eastern Pyrenees, should the money fail, and would have been more annoyed than pleased by prompt repayment. According to his own calculations he stood to gain in either case; and in the meantime he was well content to increase his influence by posing as the arbiter of Spanish politics. After a preliminary conference at Bayonne, it was arranged that the Kings of Castile and France should meet for a final discussion of the proposed terms of peace on the banks of the Bidassoa, the boundary between their two territories. It is a scene that Philip de Commines’ pen has made for ever memorable; for though he himself was not present he drew his vivid account from distinguished eye-witnesses on both sides. Through his medium and that of the Spanish chroniclers we can see the showy luxury of the Castilian Court, the splendour of the Moorish guards by whom Henry was surrounded, the favourite Beltran de La Cueva in his boat, with its sail of cloth-of-gold dipping before the wind, his very boots as he stepped on shore glittering with precious stones. Such was the model to whom Castilian chivalry looked, the man, who with the Archbishop of Toledo and the Marquis of Villena dictated to their master his every word.