Louis having recovered his liberty, would not return to France without having tried every means in his power to alleviate the miseries of Palestine, or at least to deliver the Christian prisoners whom the infidels still detained. He went, with seven hundred knights who still remained under his orders, to the Holy Land, and then, rather by conciliation than by force, and by the exercise of a marvellous sagacity, he was enabled to a certain extent to re-establish the prestige of the defenders of the cross. He devoted four years to this good work, and only consented to return to France on hearing of the death of his beloved mother. He re-entered Paris, after an absence of six years (1254), with a wounded and broken spirit, “because,” says the English chronicler, Matthew Paris, “through him disorder had overspread Christendom.” [Illustration: Fig. 109.--The Messengers of the Sultan, having at their head a little old man walking with crutches, come to discuss terms of ransom with the Christian prisoners.--From a miniature in the “Credo de Joinville,” Manuscript of the end of the Thirteenth Century, formerly in the National Library of Paris, but now in England.] Palestine in 1268 had fallen into the deepest misery and desolation; the few towns and strongholds which remained in the hands of the Eastern Christians had been pillaged and sacked by the Mamelukes, who at last took Antioch, where they slew seventeen thousand of the inhabitants, and sold a hundred thousand more into slavery (Fig. 110). These dreadful tidings, which two centuries earlier would have caused a general indignation in Christendom, reached the West without creating much excitement, in the midst of the political troubles which were agitating most of the states of Europe. But since his return to France, St. Louis had worn the cross, if not on his garments, at least in his heart, and had always cherished the hope of realising the dream of his youth. “The cries of the miserable Eastern Christians,” says an old chronicle, “deprived him of rest; and he felt within him a deep anguish of soul and a passionate desire for martyrdom.” [Illustration: Fig. 110.--Plan of Antioch in the Thirteenth Century, with its five gates--of St. Paul, of the Dog, of the Duke, of the Bridge, and of St. George. To the right is Mount Oronte; in the foreground is the sea.--From a Manuscript of the Thirteenth Century, No. 4,939, in the National Library of Paris.]