The History of Chivalry; Or, Knighthood and Its Times, Volume 2 (of 2)
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Title: The History of Chivalry; Or, Knighthood and Its Times, Volume 2 (of 2)
Author: Charles Mills
Release date: June 17, 2012 [eBook #40022]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF CHIVALRY; OR, KNIGHTHOOD AND ITS TIMES, VOLUME 2 (OF 2) ***
The History of Chivalry
or
Knighthood and its times.
By CHARLES MILLS, Esqr.
Author of the History of the Crusades
IN TWO VOLUMES
Vol: II.
[Illustration: Engraved by A. Le Petit
from a sketch by R. H. Sievier.]
London.
Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown and Green.
MDCCCXXV.
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
Page
CHAP. I. STATE OF CHIVALRY IN ENGLAND DURING THE REIGN OF
EDWARD THE THIRD.
Tournaments ... The Round Table ... Order of the Garter ...
Courtesy of Edward ... Prevalence of chivalric taste among all
classes ... English archers ... The Black Prince ... Story of the
king's chivalry ... England regarded as the seat of honour ...
Instance of this ... Chivalric heroes in this reign ... The
gestes and prowesses of Sir Walter Manny ... Chivalric vow of Sir
Walter ... He fights for the love of his lady ... His rescue of
two brother knights ... Instance of his joyous adventurousness
... His gallantry before Auberoche ... His filial piety ... Story
of chivalric manners ... The gentle disposition of Manny ... His
importance at Edward's court ... His remarkable sagacity ... His
liberality ... His death in 1372 ... Buried in the Charter-House
... Heroism of Sir James Audley ... His generosity ... Memoir of
Sir John Chandos ... His gallantry to ladies ... Amusing instance
of the pride of knighthood ... The importance of his counsel at
Poictiers ... His exploits in Brittany ... And in Spain ... Is
made a knight banneret ... Quits the Black Prince ... But returns
... The remarkable generousness of his conduct to Lord Pembroke
... The last circumstance of his life ... General grief at his
death 1
CHAP. II. PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN GREAT BRITAIN, FROM THE REIGN
OF RICHARD II. TO THAT OF HENRY VIII.
Complaints of the unchivalric state of Richard's court ...
Influence of chivalry on the national character ... Scottish
chivalry ... Chivalric kindness of Robert Bruce ... Mutual
chivalry between the Scotch and English courts ... French
knights' opinions of Scottish chivalry ... Courtesies between
English and Scottish knights ... Chivalric battle of Otterbourn
... Hotspur and the Douglas ... A cavaleresque story ... Reign of
Henry IV. ... Chivalric parley between him and the Duke of
Orleans ... Henry's unchivalric conduct at Shrewsbury ... Henry
V. ... Knights of the Bath ... Henry's love of chivalric books
... His chivalric bearing ... Commencement of the decline of
chivalry ... The civil wars injured chivalry ... Caxton's
lamentation ... He exaggerates the evil ... Many gallant English
knights ... Character of Henry VIII. with reference to chivalry
... Tournaments in his reign ... Field of the cloth of gold ...
Introduction of Italian literature favoured romance ...
Popularity of chivalric literature ... English knights continued
to break lances for ladies' love ... State of Scottish chivalry
at this period ... James IV. ... Chivalric circumstances at
Flodden Field 64
CHAP. III. THE LAST YEARS OF CHIVALRY IN ENGLAND.
The chivalric feelings of the nation supported by Spenser ... and
by Sir Philip Sidney ... Allusions to Sidney's life ...
particularly his kindly consideration ... Chivalric politeness of
the age of Elizabeth ... The Earl of Oxford ... Tilts in
Greenwich Park ... Sir Henry Lee ... Chivalry reflected in the
popular amusements ... Change of manners ... Reign of James the
First ... Tournaments ceased on Prince Henry's death ... Life of
Lord Herbert of Cherbury ... Chivalric fame of his family ... His
character ... His inferiority to the knights of yore ... Decline
of chivalric education ... Important change in knighthood by the
parliament of Charles the First ... Application of chivalric
honours to men of civil station ... Knights made in the field ...
Carpet knights ... Knights of the Bath ... Full account of the
ancient ceremonies of creating knights of the Bath 125
CHAP. IV. PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN FRANCE.
Chivalry in baronial castles ... Chivalry injured by religious
wars ... Beneficial influence of poetry and romance ... Chivalric
brilliancy of the fourteenth century ... Brittany ... Du Guesclin
... Romantic character of his early years ... His knightly
conduct at Rennes ... Gallantry at Cochetel ... Political
consequences of his chivalry ... He leads an army into Spain ...
And changes the fortunes of that kingdom ... Battle of Navaret
... Du Guesclin prisoner ... Treatment of him by the Black Prince
... Ransomed ... Is made Constable of France ... Recovers the
power of the French monarchy ... Companionship in arms between Du
Guesclin and Olivier De Clisson ... Du Guesclin's death before
Randon ... His character ... Decline of chivalry ... Proof of it
... Little chivalry in the second series of French and English
wars ... Combats of pages ... Further Decay of chivalry ...
Abuses in conferring knighthood ... Burgundy ... Its chivalry ...
The romantic nature of the Burgundian tournaments ... Last gleams
of chivalry in France ... Life of Bayard ... Francis I. ...
Extinction of chivalry 168
CHAP. V. PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN SPAIN.
General nature of Spanish chivalry ... Religion and heroism ...
Gallantry ... Blending of Spanish and Oriental manners ... Its
beneficial tendencies ... Peculiarities of Spanish chivalry ...
Forms of knighthood ... Various ranks of knights ... Spanish
poetry ... Heroes of chivalry ... Pelayo ... Bernardo del Carpio
... And incidentally of Charlemagne's expedition into Spain ...
The life of the Cid ... His early ferocious heroism ... Singular
marriage ... Enters the service of King Ferdinand ... The Cid's
chivalric gallantry ... He is knighted ... Death of King
Ferdinand ... The Cid becomes the knight of Sancho, king of
Castile ... Mixture of evil and good in the Cid's character ...
Supports the king in his injustice ... The Cid's romantic heroism
... Sancho's further injustice opposed by him ... Death of Sancho
... Instance of the Cid's virtuous boldness ... Character of
Alfonso, successor of Sancho ... Story of his chivalric bearing
... The Cid's second marriage ... Is banished from Alfonso's
court ... Becomes the ally of the Moors ... But recalled ... Is
banished again ... Singular story of the Cid's unknightly
meanness ... Fortunes of the Cid during his exile ... The Cid's
chivalric nobleness and generosity ... Is recalled by Alfonso ...
The Cid captures Toledo ... and Valentia ... Story of Spanish
manners ... The Cid's unjust conduct to the Moors ... The
unchivalric character of the Cid's wife and daughters ... The Cid
recalled by Alfonso ... The marriages of his daughters ... Basely
treated by their husbands ... Cortez at Toledo to decide the
cause ... Picture of ancient manners ... Death of the Cid ... His
character ... Fate of his good horse ... Spanish chivalry after
his death ... Gallantry of a knight ... The merits of missals
decided by battle ... Passage of arms at Orbigo ... Knights
travel and joust for ladies' love ... Extinction of Spanish
chivalry 230
CHAP. VI. PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN GERMANY AND ITALY.
Chivalry did not affect the public history of Germany ... Its
influence on Imperial manners ... Intolerance and cruelty of
German knights ... Their harshness to their squires ... Avarice
of the Germans ... Little influence of German chivalry ... A
remarkable exception to this ... A female tournament ...
Maximilian, the only chivalric emperor of Germany ... Joust
between him and a French knight ... Edict of Frederic III.
destroyed chivalry ... CHIVALRY IN ITALY: ... Lombards carried
chivalry thither ... Stories of chivalric gallantry ... But
little martial chivalry in Italy ... Condottieri ... Chivalry in
the north ... Italians excellent armourers but bad knights ...
Chivalry in the south ... Curious circumstances attending
knighthood at Naples ... Mode of creating knights in Italy
generally ... Political use of knighthood ... Chivalric
literature ... Chivalric sports 303
CHAP. VII. ON THE MERITS AND EFFECTS OF CHIVALRY 341
THE HISTORY OF CHIVALRY.
CHAP. I.
STATE OF CHIVALRY IN ENGLAND DURING THE REIGN OF EDWARD THE THIRD.
_Tournaments ... The Round Table ... Order of the Garter ... Courtesy
of Edward ... Prevalence of chivalric Taste among all Classes ...
English Archers ... The Black Prince ... Story of the King's Chivalry
... England regarded as the Seat of Honour ... Instance of this ...
Chivalric Heroes in this Reign ... The Gestes and Prowesses of Sir
Walter Manny ... Chivalric Vow of Sir Walter ... He fights for the
Love of his Lady ... His Rescue of Two Brother Knights ... Instance of
his joyous Adventurousness ... His Gallantry before Auberoche ... His
filial Piety ... Story of chivalric Manners ... The Gentle Disposition
of Manny ... His Importance at Edward's Court ... His remarkable
Sagacity ... His Liberality ... His Death in 1372 ... Buried in the
Charter-House ... Heroism of Sir James Audley ... His Generosity ...
Memoir of Sir John Chandos ... His Gallantry to Ladies ... Amusing
Instance of the Pride of Knighthood ... The Importance of his Counsel
at Poictiers ... His Exploits in Brittany ... And in Spain ... Is made
a Knight Banneret ... Quits the Black Prince ... But returns ... The
remarkable Generousness of his Conduct to Lord Pembroke ... The last
Circumstance of his Life ... General Grief at his Death._
[Sidenote: Tournaments.]
The sun of English chivalry reached its meridian in the reign of Edward
III., for the King and the nobles all were knightly, and the image of
their character was reflected in the minds of the people.[1] Tournaments
and jousts, for the amusement and in honour of the ladies, were the
universal fashion of the time. In little more than one year, chivalric
solemnities were held with unparalleled magnificence at Litchfield, Bury,
Guildford, Eltham, Canterbury, and twice at Windsor.[2] The gay character
of Edward and his court was pleasingly displayed in the spring of the year
1359, three years after the battle of Poictiers. A solemn tournament of
three days' duration was proclaimed in London, and the lord mayor,
sheriffs, and aldermen, proposed to keep the field against all comers. The
time arrived, the martial games were held, and all the honor of arms
appeared to be of right due to the officers of the city. The victors then
threw aside their shields and surcoats impressed with the city's bearings,
removed their beavers, and King Edward, the Black Prince, the Princes
Lionel, John, and Edmund, and nineteen noble barons, were recognised.[3]
[Sidenote: The round table.]
[Sidenote: Order of the Garter.]
The round table at Kenilworth already mentioned was not a solitary
instance of the love of romantic grandeur and gallantry among the people
of England. Mortimer kept a round table of knights in Wales professedly in
imitation of Arthur,[4] And afterwards Edward III. endeavoured to realise
the golden imaginations of fable which had assigned one hundred and fifty
knights as the complement of Arthur's chivalry.[5] We are assured that the
round table which Edward established at Windsor in 1344 described a
circumference of six hundred feet: but it is more interesting to know,
that the nobility and knighthood of France, Germany, Spain, and other
countries flocked to England on the invitation of the King, and that the
chivalric bands at Windsor were graced by the presence of Queen Philippa
and three hundred English ladies, who, in honour of the friendly union of
knights, were all arrayed in splendid dresses of one form and fashion, and
looked like the sisters of a military order. Policy was mixed with
chivalric pride in Edward's plan; for he wished to retain in his service
some of the foreign knights who repaired to the tournament at Windsor. But
his intention to strengthen his chivalry was defeated by his rival Philip
of Valois, who established also a round table, to which the cavaliers of
the Continent could more easily repair than to that of Edward.[6] The
knights of France were expressly forbidden by their king to attend the
festivities of the round table at Windsor. The English monarch found, too,
that he could not secure the attachment of stranger knights. That great
chivalric principle, the companionship in weal or woe of men forming one
society, was never regarded by them. Edward's table at Windsor was
surrounded by gay cavaliers, who talked and sang of war and love, and then
merrily returned to their own country full of courtesy to their royal host
for his gallant bearing, but not disposed to renounce the chivalric
associations of their native land. Edward then changed his design, and
wished to establish an order of merit, that so "true nobility, after long
and hazardous adventures, should not enviously be deprived of that honour,
which it hath really deserved, and that active and hardy youth might not
want a spur in the profession of virtue, which is to be esteemed glorious
and eternal."[7] He accordingly assembled the nobility and knighthood of
his realm, and showed them his intention of forming an especial
brotherhood of knights, to be called Knights of the blue Garter, and of
ordaining that a feast should be kept yearly at Windsor, on Saint George's
day. The barons and cavaliers of England joyously agreed to his pleasure;
for they were animated by this encouragement to military feats, and they
saw that great amity and love would grow and increase among them.
Twenty-five of the most valiant men of the kingdom were then chosen.[8]
The most noble order of Saint George, named the Garter, had, therefore,
its origin in romance, in the wish to restore the chivalric dignity and
splendour of ancient Britain. That view was afterwards blended with
objects of policy which also were soon abandoned, and a fraternity of
companions in arms was established for the promotion of chivalric honour.
But though gallantry did not, as is commonly thought, actually found the
order, yet perhaps it caused the union to receive the last clause of its
title. Froissart describes the passion of Edward for the Countess of
Salisbury, but is altogether silent on the story of her garter, a silence
decisive of the incorrectness of the vulgar tale; for Froissart was
intimately acquainted with the court of the English king, and his
attention was always awake to circumstances of a gallant and romantic
nature. It was quite in the spirit of those days for a band to be regarded
as an excellent symbol of the friendly union which ought to exist between
the knights companions; and if love had not been a chief feature in
chivalry, the order might have been only called the Order of the Band.
But gallantly came in, and claimed some share of chivalric honours. Ages
of fastidious delicacy would have thought of a zone or girdle, but our
simple minded ancestors regarded the garter as the wished for symbol. The
well known motto of the Garter (_Honi soit qui mal y pense_) seems to
apply, as Sir Walter Scott conjectures, to the misrepresentations which
the French monarch might throw out respecting the order of the Garter, as
he had already done concerning the festival of the round table.[9]
On the collar of the order something should be said. Warton appears to
think that the earliest collar worn by the knights of the Garter was a
duplication of the letter S, in allusion to the initial letter of the fair
lady's name who, he supposes, gave rise to the fraternity of the most
noble order of the Garter. But in truth no evidence exists that originally
the members of the order wore any collar at all as knights of the Garter,
though they certainly wore golden collars in their character of knights
bachelors and knights banneret.
The favourite badge of the Lancastrian family was the letter S. sometimes
single, and sometimes double, and the golden collar of esses became in
time the general collar of English knights, and the silver collar of esses
was worn by squires. The letter S. was the initial letter of the sentence,
"_Soveigne vous de moy_." This was a very favourite motto in the
fourteenth century, and was afterwards frequently introduced into collars
which were formed of the fleur-de-souvenance, the forget-me-not of modern
times. Whether at any period the golden collar of esses distinguished the
knights of the Garter we know not. The collar worn in the present days,
composed of garters with the image of Saint George dependent thereon,
cannot be traced higher than the reign of Henry VIII.
The order was founded in honour of God, the Virgin Mary, Saint George the
Martyr, and Saint Edward, king and confessor. The two saints were regarded
as the particular patrons of the knights companions. The person that our
ancestors understood by the name Saint George is a point of doubt. Some
modern writers have called him a sufferer in the persecutions of
Diocletian, and others the flagitious George of Cappadocia, the Arian
successor of Athanasius in the archbishoprick of Alexandria.[10] It is
equally difficult to discover how the saint became invested with military
glory. But, leaving such questions to martyrologists and legend-makers, it
is sufficient for our purpose to observe that a person called Saint George
was in very early ages regarded as the tutelary saint of England, and
became therefore very naturally one of the heads of the new military
order. His brother-protector Saint Edward soon fell from his lofty
station: but at the time concerning which I am writing he was high in
fame, for Edward III. was wont to invoke both him and the other
patron-saint with perfect impartiality; and when he was cutting his way
through a press of knights, one stroke of his sword was accompanied by the
exclamation, "Ha, Saint Edward," and another by the cry, "Ha, Saint
George."
[Sidenote: Courtesy of Edward.]
To pursue, however, the general course of the chivalry of our Edward III.
Nothing could be more beautiful than his courtesy on all occasions. It was
particularly shown in his treatment of the hostages of the French king for
the due performance of the treaty of Bretigny. He commanded his officers
to deport themselves to those lords and their company courteously and
favourably; and, accordingly, the French strangers sported without peril
in London at their pleasure, and the great lords went hunting and hawking,
and rode over the country, and visited ladies and damsels, without any
control, so courteous and amiable was the King of England to them.[11]
During all the tournaments that were held in his reign, he permitted his
French, Scotch, and other prisoners, to share in the games, and sometimes
he even furnished them with tourneying harness out of the royal
armoury.[12]
[Sidenote: Prevalence of chivalric taste among all classes.]
The taste for chivalry among classes of people apparently little
susceptible of its influence may be learned from the masquerading
tournament of Edward; for knightly games must have been well known to the
citizens of London, or the proclamation would not have been issued, that
the lord mayor, aided by the court of aldermen and the sheriffs, would, on
a certain day, hold a solemn tournament. The same taste was proved some
years before, when the Black Prince entered London, with King John of
France as his prisoner. The outsides of the houses were covered with
hangings, wrought over with battles in tapestry, and the citizens exposed,
in their shops, windows, and balconies, an incredible quantity of bows and
arrows, shields, helmets, corselets, breast and back pieces, coats of
mail, gauntlets, umbraces, swords, spears, battle-axes, armour for horses,
and other armour.[13] It is also curious to notice, that on the evening
preceding Candlemas-day, in the year 1377, one hundred and thirty citizens
of London, for the entertainment of the young prince, Richard, son of the
nation's idol, the Black Prince, rode, disguised as knights, from Newgate
to Kennington, where the court resided, attended with an innumerable
multitude, bearing waxen torches, and playing various instruments of
music.[14]
As the principal wars of Edward's time were waged with a chivalric people,
the circumstances which surrounded them favoured the developement of the
chivalric qualities of the English character. I shall not repeat the
political events of our glorious contests with France, nor describe, for
the thousandth time, the battles of Cressy and Poictiers: but it may be
mentioned, that the admirable marshalling of Edward's force on the field
of Cressy was a high proof of his chivalric sageness, and mainly
contributed to his victory over the forces of the King of France.
[Sidenote: English archers.]
The battles of Cressy and Poictiers, however, were not entirely gained by
the chivalry of England: the bow was a most important weapon in the
English army. It had characterised the Normans, and been mainly
instrumental in winning for them the battle of Hastings. It was afterwards
used by the small landholder, the tenant in soccage, and the general mass
of the people, while the lance was the weapon of the lord and the knight.
The bow was the emblem of freedom, and the pre-eminence of our archers
shows that the political condition of England was superior, in the
fourteenth century, to that of any continental nation.[15]
The arrow was of the remarkable length of a cloth-yard. The expression in
the old ballad of Chevy-Chase,
"An arrow of a cloth-yard long
Up to the head drew he,"
marks the usage of our early ancestors; and that sentence of Lear, in
Shakspeare's play, "Draw me a clothier's yard," shows that in the
sixteenth century the national character had not been lost. It was
fostered by every proper means: by royal command archery was practised in
towns on holidays, after church; while coits, cock-fighting, and
amusements with the ball, were strictly prohibited. Other nations drew the
bow with strength of arm, but Englishmen with their whole vigour: they
laid their body in the bow[16], as an old writer has forcibly expressed
the usage; and when in amusement they were exercising their skill,
eleven-score yards was the least distance at which the mark was set up. No
one could better shoot an arrow than a yeoman in the days of Edward III.:
they were the most powerful attendants which our knights could boast of.
"A yeoman had he, and servants no mo,
At that time, for him lust to ride so;
And he was clad in coat and hood of green.
A sheaf of peacocks' arwes bright and keen
Under his belt he bare full thriftily.
Well coude he dress his takel yemanly.
His arwes drooped not with feathers lowe,
And in his hand he bare a mighty bowe.
A not-hed[17] had he with a brown visage.
Of wood-craft coude he well all the usage.
Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer,
And by his side a sword and a bokeler;
And on that other side a gay dagger,
Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spere;
A Cristofere on his breast of silver shene;
An horn he bare, the baudrick was of green.
A forster was he, soothly as I guess."[18]
The reader scarcely needs to be informed that the loss of the battle of
Cressy by the French began with the confusion among the Genoese cross-bow
men. The English archers then stepped forth one pace, and, as Froissart
says, let fly their arrows so wholly, and so thick, that it seemed snow
was piercing through heads, arms, and breasts. The French cavaliers rushed
in to slay the Genoese for their cowardice, but the sharp arrows of the
English slew them, and their horses too. The chivalry of the Black Prince
decided the victory: the Earls of Flanders and Alençon broke through his
archers, but deeper they could not penetrate; and in the personal conflict
of the chivalries of the two nations, the English were conquerors.[19]
At the battle of Poictiers the English archers threw the French cavalry
into confusion, by slaying the unmailed horses. True to say, as Froissart
observes, the archers did their company that day great advantage; for when
the Black Prince descended the hill on which he had posted himself, the
archers were mingled with his chivalry, in true knightly fashion, and shot
so closely together, that none durst come within danger.[20]
[Sidenote: The Black Prince.]
The well-known conduct of the Black Prince to his prisoner, King John,
after the battle,--his waiting on him at table, saying that he was not
sufficient to sit at the board with so great a man as the King,--his
riding through London to the Savoy, the French monarch mounted on a white
and superbly-equipped war-horse, while the Prince rode by his side on a
little black palfrey,--all this beautiful deportment proceeded from the
modesty, the self-abasement of true chivalry, and from that kindly
consideration which one knight always showed to his brother in arms.[21]
There were many circumstances in Edward's wars amply deserving of notice,
as illustrative of national and personal character, but which have been
passed over altogether, or but slightly regarded, by the general
historians of England; some of whom, in their anxiety for chronological
exactness, and others in their desire to make the matter in hand merely
illustrative of a few political principles, have very ingeniously
contrived to strip their subject of all its splendor, interest, and
variety.
[Sidenote: Story of the king's chivalry.]
Three years after the battle of Cressy had given the town of Calais to the
English, the Lord Geffray Charney, of France, endeavoured to regain it, by
bribing the governor, Amery de Puy, a Lombard. Edward, hearing of the
treaty, sent for his officer from Calais to Westminster. When the King saw
him, he took him apart, and said, "Thou knowest well I have given thee in
keeping the thing in the world I love best next my wife and children,
namely, the town and castle of Calais; and thou hast sold it to the
Frenchmen; wherefore thou deservest to die."
Then the Lombard kneeled down, and said, "Noble King, I cry you mercy: it
is true what you say; but, Sir, the bargain may well be broken, for as yet
I have received never a penny."
The King, who had warmly loved the governor, replied, "Amery, I will that
thou goest forward in thy bargain, and the day that thou appointest to
deliver the town, let me have knowledge thereof before; and on this
condition I forgive thee thy trespass."
Accordingly Amery returned to Calais, and continued the negotiation with
Lord Geffray Charney. It was finally agreed between them that the
surrender of Calais should take place on the night of the new year; and
the governor, faithful to his allegiance, communicated the progress of the
plot to Edward. The King immediately rode from London to Dover, with three
hundred men-at-arms, and six hundred archers, and, crossing the sea, he
reached Calais in the evening, and secretly lodged his men in the chambers
and towers of the castle. He did not wish to head the emprise himself; and
selecting Sir Walter Manny from his gallant band, as the prowest
chevalier, he told him that he and his son, the Prince, would fight under
his banner.
When the time for surrendering Calais approached, the Lord Geffray, having
heard from Amery that matters were ripe, advanced from Arras, and sent
before him twelve knights, and an hundred men-at-arms, to take possession
of the castle. Amery admitted them over the bridge of the postern,
receiving, at the same time, a bag containing twenty thousand crowns, the
price of his treachery. He led the soldiers towards the donjon of the
castle; and immediately King Edward and an hundred men, with swords and
axes, furiously poured from it, shouting the war-cry, "Manny, Manny, to
the rescue!" The Frenchmen were panic-struck by this wild sweep of war,
and incontinently yielded themselves prisoners. Edward advanced to the
Boulogne gate, where he found the Lord Geffray, who was anxiously
expecting it to be opened; and his companions were driving away the
tedious moments, by supposing that Amery, like a subtle and suspicious
Lombard, was busy in counting his crowns.
The cry, "Manny to the rescue!" disturbed their jocularity, and grasping
their swords they saw a band of armed men issuing from the gate. In an
instant the King, the Black Prince, the Staffords, the Suffolks, the
Salisburys, the Beauchamps, the Berkeleys, all the pride and flower of
English chivalry stood before them. The Frenchmen did not decline the
combat; and it was chivalrously maintained till a winter's return of morn.
The English were finally victors. Of the single combats in which the
cavaliers signalised their valiancy, the fiercest occurred between the
King and the Lord Eustace of Rybamount, a strong and hardy knight. Twice
was Edward struck on his knees; but at last Eustace was worsted; and he
yielded his sword to the King, saying, not knowing his royal quality, "Sir
Knight, I yield me your prisoner."
The King treated his captives like brethren in arms, giving them a noble
entertainment, and sitting at the table with them, while the Prince, the
lords, and the knights of England, acted as attendants. After supper, and
when the tables were removed, the King talked a while with his own
knights, and then conversed with the Frenchmen. He gently reproved the
Lord Geffray of Charney for an enterprise so unworthy of nobility and
knighthood; and then going to Sir Eustace of Rybamont, he said to him,
with all the fine frank joyousness of chivalry, "Sir Eustace, you are the
knight in the world that I have seen most valiantly assail his enemies and
defend himself; and I have never found a knight that ever gave me so much
ado body to body as you have done this day, and therefore I give you the
prize above all the knights of my own court." The King thereupon took from
his head a chaplet of pearls, fair, goodly, and rich, and presented it to
the knight, with the remark, "Sir Eustace, I give you this chaplet, for
the best doer in arms this day of either party, and I desire you to wear
it this year for the love of me. I know that you are fresh and amorous,
and oftentimes among ladies and damsels. Say wheresoever you go that I
gave it you; and I free you from prison, and renounce your ransom.
To-morrow, if it so please you, you shall depart."[22]
Here chivalry appeared in all its generousness, elegance, and refinement.
How beautifully contrasted is Edward's deportment to Sir Eustace de
Rybamont with his feelings towards Eustace de St. Pierre and his five
fellow-burgesses, three years before, at the surrender of Calais to the
English. Edward had no sympathy with their magnanimous devotion of
themselves to save the lives of their fellow-citizens; no consideration of
knightly mercy softened his mind; and it was only the supplication of his
queen, who was in a state to move the sternest soul to grant her wishes,
that restored his better nature. Before Edward's chivalry, however, be
generally and finally condemned, let it be remembered that his severe
losses of his own men had sorely grieved his mind against the people of
Calais, and that at the commencement of the siege, when the captain of the
town had driven from its gates all the poor and impotent, Edward not only
granted them a free passage through his army, but gave them meat and drink
and money.[23]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: England regarded as the seat of honor.]
The court of the English king was regarded as the very judgment-seat of
honour; an opinion of which a very curious proof exists. In the year 1350,
a fierce war raged between the Soldan of Babylon and Constantine, King of
Armenia; the former invading the dominions of the Armenian prince with
vast and numerous armies, and the latter endeavouring, by the united
strength of his own subjects, and the Cypriots and Rhodians, to repel the
violence of the heathen invaders, or at least to arrest their progress,
which then began to threaten all Christendom. Among the many great men
who, together with the Christian princes, were engaged in this holy war,
were a Cypriot knight named John de Visconti, a relation of the King of
Cyprus, and a knight of France called Thomas de la Marche, bastard-brother
to John de Valois, the French king. Both these knights held high commands
in the Christian army. From certain information, or from jealousy, John
de Visconti charged the bastard of France with treason; with having
agreed, in consideration of a certain sum of gold to be paid unto him
beforehand, in part of a greater sum to be paid afterwards, to betray the
Christian army to the Turk. Thomas de la Marche, with all the confidence
of virtue, boldly denied the charge; it was repeated, and again flung back
in the accuser's face; opprobrious epithets were interchanged, and a
challenge to mortal combat was given and accepted. The friends of the two
knights, dreading the displeasure of the King of Cyprus and the King of
France, and fearing that the consequences of a duel might be felt among
themselves, compelled John de Visconti and Thomas de la Marche to agree to
stand to the award which should be determined by the confederates in
council. The judgment was, that they should carry letters importing their
cause fully and clearly from the said Christian princes unto King Edward
of England, and to submit themselves to be tried by combat before him, as
the most worthy and honorable prince in all Christendom; they swearing to
remain as perfect friends until that time.
Soon afterwards, they set sail for England, where they arrived in the
beginning of September, and forthwith presented unto King Edward, in the
names of the kings of Armenia and Cyprus and the rest of the princes and
captains of the Christians, their letters, which contained a narrative of
the whole dispute, and the conclusion, that the matter should be
determined by combat before him as their judge. In the presence of the
King and his court, Sir John de Visconti accused Sir Thomas de la Marche
of his treasonable intent and purpose, challenging to prove it upon his
body, and thereupon flinging down his gauntlet. Sir Thomas boldly took it
up, and accepted the challenge in proof of his innocency. King Edward
having read the letters, and seriously considered the whole matter,
appointed a day for the decision of their quarrel in close field within
the lists at his palace of Westminster.
On the day appointed they met accordingly, armed at all points, on
horseback, the King, the Prince of Wales, and the whole court of England
being spectators. Presently, upon sound of trumpet, a most gallant combat
commenced between the two stranger knights. Both their spears were broken
into splinters upon each other's shield, yet neither of them was cast from
his saddle. Instantaneously, and, as it were, by mutual consent, they
alighted, and drawing their good swords, renewed the combat on foot, till
having with equal valour and discretion fought a considerable while, both
their weapons became useless, and they were obliged to come to close
grapple, and at length by wrestling both fell locked together, still
contending for the victory. It was gained by Sir Thomas de la Marche, by
means which, though lawful in the duel, would not have been permitted in
the courtly joust and tournament. He had armed the joints of his gauntlet
with sharp pricks of steel called gadlings, and he struck them with such
force and frequency through the small distant bars of his antagonist's
visor, that Visconti was compelled to call for mercy. The King thereupon
threw down his warder, the marshal cried Ho! and the combat ceased. Edward
adjudged the victory to the Frenchman, declaring that the vanquished was
at his mercy, agreeably to the laws of arms.[24]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Chivalric heroes of Edward's time.]
The court of Edward and his son was as chivalric as that of Arthur, and of
much more interesting contemplation, from the pleasure of finding that the
beauties of the chivalric character were not imaginary. If the Round Table
boasted its Sir Tristram and its Sir Launcelot of the Lake, the order of
the Garter possessed its Sir Walter Manny and its Sir John Chandos, whose
lives were so brilliant and glorious that the golden age of chivalry seems
not like the golden age of nations, a poet's dream.
[Sidenote: The gestes and prowesses of Sir Walter Manny.]
[Sidenote: Chivalric vow of Sir Walter.]
In the suite of Philippa, daughter of the Count of Hainault, when in the
year 1327 she came to England to be married to Edward III., was a
gentleman of baronial rank, named Walter of Manny[25]; and it was not
thought that he lost any quality of his birth by serving at her table as
her carver.[26] He had been educated as a cavalier, and his military
accomplishments were soon noticed by Edward.[27] He was knighted, and the
ceremony was splendid, the dresses being selected from the royal
wardrobe.[28] When the chance of a war with France was freely talked of in
London, and every man's mind was filled with hopes of honor, Sir Walter
vowed before dames and lords of the court, that he would be the first
knight to enter the enemy's territory[29], and win either town or castle,
and do some deeds of arms. He then went to Flanders, and on the defiances
being declared between the French and English nations, he got together
about forty spears, and, by riding through Brabant night and day, he soon
reached Hainault. Mortaigne was, he heard, in the realm of France; and
passing with the utmost speed through the wood of Blaton, he arrived at
the wished for town before the sun arose, and by good chance he found the
wicket of the gate open. Leaving a few of his company to keep the
entrance, he went into the high street with his pennon before him, and
reached the castle. He was then espied by the watch, who blew his horn,
and shouted "Treason, treason!" It would have been the extreme of rashness
for such a little troop as that of Sir Walter to have attempted to storm
the castle. They therefore contented themselves with setting fire to some
houses, and then quitted the town; and thus that noble and gentle knight
Sir Walter Manny performed the vow which he had made to the dames and
lords of England.[30]
[Sidenote: He fights for the love of his lady.]
Afterwards, (in the year 1342,) being high in favour with Edward, he was
sent into Brittany, with a proud display of knights and archers, to aid
the Countess of Mountfort, at that time besieged in her castle by the
French. He was not long before he made a sally on the enemy, and with such
effect, that he destroyed all their great engines of assault. The French
knights, not anticipating so bold a measure, lay at some distance from
their machines; but they soon advanced in formidable numbers. The English
and Bretons retreated, however, fairly and easily, though the French
pursued them with infuriate violence. It would not have been knightly for
Sir Walter to have left the field without having right valiantly acquitted
himself; and he exclaimed, "Let me never be beloved by my lady, unless I
have a course with one of these followers."[31] He then set his spear in
its rest, and so did many of his companions. They ran at the first comers.
Then legs were seen turned upwards, knights were taken and rescued, and
many rare deeds of arms were done by both parties. Afterwards the English
slowly retired to the castle, and the French to their tents.[32]
[Sidenote: His rescue of two brother-knights.]
Sir Walter, in all his measures of succour to the Countess of Brittany,
showed himself one of the prowest knights of the age; but no act of his
valor was so interesting as his rescue of two brother-knights, whom an
uncourteous cavalier, called Sir Loyes of Spain, had condemned to
death.[33] Sir Walter said to his companions, "It would be great honor for
us if we could deliver out of danger yonder two knights; and even if we
should fail when we put it in adventure, yet King Edward, our master, will
thank us, and so will all other noble men. At least, it shall be said, how
we did our utmost. A man should peril his body to save the lives of two
such valiant knights."
So generous an emprise was willingly undertaken: the greatest part of his
force attacked the enemy's camp, while Sir Walter himself, with a chosen
band, went round to the quarter where, by the custom of war, the prisoners
were kept. He found there the two knights, and he immediately set them
upon good steeds, which he had brought with him for their use, and,
shaking them by the hand, he made them gallop to a place of
safety.[34]--The object of his expedition into France, namely, the succour
of the Countess of Montfort, being accomplished[35], Sir Walter recrossed
the seas, and went to London.
[Sidenote: Instance of his joyous adventurousness.]
In the year 1344 he was dispatched into Gascony with the Earl of Derby and
Lancaster, the Earl of Pembroke, and other noble peers of England, as one
of the marshals of the host. Manny inspired and directed every enterprise.
From the reports of his spies regarding Bergerac, he thought the place was
pregnable. Being one day at dinner with the Earl of Derby, he exclaimed,
with a cup of rich Gascon wine in his hand, "If we were good men-of-arms,
we should drink this evening with the French lords in Bergerac." This bold
and manly sentiment was loudly applauded by his brother-knights: tables
and benches were overthrown in their haste to quit the hall and don their
harness, and in a few moments they bestrode their noble steeds. The Earl
of Derby was right joyous at the sight of the gallant assemblage, and
crying, "Let us ride to our enemies in the name of God and Saint George,"
banners were displayed, and the English cavaliers urged their horses to
speed. They soon reached the fortress of Bergerac. The pleasant wish of
Sir Walter was not realised; for night closed upon the combatants, without
their drinking the wines of Gascony together. All the next day was spent,
likewise, in manoeuvres, and in jousts _à l'outrance_, and in the evening
the French men-at-arms stole away from Bergerac. The common people sent
their submissions to the Earl of Derby, who saying, "He that mercy
desireth mercy ought to have," made them swear faith and homage to the
King of England.[36]
[Sidenote: His gallantry before Auberoche.]
No circumstance in this war was of more importance than the relief of the
castle of Auberoche, then beleaguered by the French. The Earl of Derby had
with him only three hundred spears, and six hundred archers, the rest of
his force being dispersed over the country. The French could count about
ten or twelve thousand; but the English, undismayed by numbers, thought it
was a great disgrace to abandon their friends in Auberoche. The Earl of
Derby and his knights were then in a wood, two little leagues from
Auberoche; and while waiting for the Earl of Pembroke, they left their
horses to pasture.
While they were loitering in the fields, in this state of restlessness,
Sir Walter Manny said to his companions, "Let us leap on our horses, and
wend our way under the covert of this wood till we arrive at the side
which joins the Frenchmen's host; and then let us put our spurs into our
horses, and cry our cries. Our enemy will then be at supper, and, not
expecting us, you shall see them so discomfited, that they shall not be
able to preserve any array." A scheme so adventurous was readily embraced:
every man mounted his horse; and the troop coasted the wood till they came
near the French, who were going to supper, and some, indeed, were already
seated at the tables. The scene of festivity was broken up when the
English displayed their banners and pennons, and dashed their spurs into
their horses, and raising the cry, "A Derby, a Derby!" rushed among them,
overthrowing tents and pavilions. When the French recovered from their
astonishment, they mounted their steeds, and rode into the field in
military array; but there they found the English archers ready to receive
them, and those bold yeomen shot so fiercely that they slew many men and
horses. On the other side of the castle there was a noble display of
French chivalry; and the Englishmen, having overcome those who were near
the tents, dashed boldly among them. Many noble deeds of arms were done,
knights were taken and rescued, and the English cause triumphed; for the
knights of the castle had armed themselves, and now issued forth, and
rushed into the thickest of the press. Then the Englishmen entered into
Auberoche; and the Earl of Derby gave a supper to the earls and viscounts
who were prisoners, and to many of the knights and squires, lauding God,
at the same time, that a thousand of his own nation had overcome many
thousands of their enemies, and had rescued the town of Auberoche, and
saved their companions that were within, who, in all likelihood, would
have been taken within two days.
The next morning, at sunrise, the Earl of Pembroke reached the castle with
his company of three hundred spears, and four thousand archers; and his
personal chivalry was mortified that so fine a deed of knighthood had
been done without him; and he said to the Earl of Derby, "Certainly,
cousin, you have shown me great uncourtesy to fight with our enemies
without me. You sent for me, and might have been sure I would not fail to
come."
"Fair cousin," quoth the Earl of Derby, "we greatly desired to have had
you with us: we tarried all day till it was far past noon, and when we saw
that you did not come, we did not dare to abide any longer; for if our
enemies had known of our coming, they would have had great advantage over
us, but now we have the advantage over them." The Earl of Pembroke was
well contented with this fair reply, and gallantly fought with his brother
noble during the remainder of the war.[37]
[Sidenote: His filial piety.]
We need not describe Sir Walter's feats of arms before La Reole, besieged
by the Earl of Derby; but when the town surrendered, a little circumstance
occurred beautifully illustrative of the character of our knight. His
father had been murdered near that place, as he was making a pilgrimage to
the shrine of St. James, in Spain, and had been buried in a little chapel
in the field which then was without the town of La Reole, but was inclosed
within the walls when the Earl of Derby conquered it. Sir Walter enquired
if there was any one who could show him his father's tomb, offering an
hundred crowns for his knowlege and labour. A man, grey and bent with age,
went to the knight and declared, "Sir, I think I can bring you near the
place where your father was buried." Manny then, in his joy at the
promise, answered, "If your words be true, I will keep covenant, and
more."
The townsman led him to the place of sepulture; and they found a little
tomb of marble which the servants of the deceased pilgrim had respectfully
lain over him. The old man, pointing to it, exclaimed, "Sir, under that
tomb lies your father." Then the Lord of Manny read the scripture on the
tomb, which was in Latin[38]; and finding that his guide had declared the
truth, he gave him his reward. He afterwards caused the bones of his
father to be taken up, and removed to Valenciennes, in the county of
Hainault. There his obsequies were right sacredly performed: the helmet,
the sword, the gauntlet, the spurs, and the tabard, were hung over his
grave, and as long as the family of Manny lived in that country, sad and
solemn priests yearly chanted masses for his soul.[39]
[Sidenote: Story of chivalric manners.]
Sir Walter so manfully defended the castle of Aguillon, that the Duke of
Normandy was compelled to raise the siege. The battle of Cressy had just
been fought, and our knight was anxious to visit his sovereign, Edward. He
fell into communication with a cavalier of Normandy, who was his prisoner,
and demanded of him what money he would pay for his ransom. The knight
answered, he would gladly give three thousand crowns.
"Well," quoth Sir Walter, "I surely know that you are a kinsman to the
Duke of Normandy, and so warmly beloved by him, that, were I to press you,
I wot in sooth he would gladly pay ten thousand crowns; but I shall deal
otherwise with you. You shall go to the Duke, your lord, upon your faith
and promise, and get a safe-conduct for myself and twenty of my companions
to ride through France to Calais, paying courteously for all our expences;
and if you can procure this from the Duke, or the King, I will willingly
remit your ransom, for I greatly desire to see the King my master. If you
cannot do this, return hither in a month, and consider yourself as my
prisoner."
The knight was well contented, and went to Paris to the Duke, his lord;
and having obtained the passport, he returned with it to Sir Walter, who
acquitted him of his ransom. Manny commenced his journey, and proceeded
safely till he reached Orleans, where he was seized by the officers of the
King of France and taken to Paris.
This circumstance was reported to the Duke of Normandy, who went to the
King, his father, and entreated him, for the honour of chivalry, to
release Sir Walter. He was for a long while inexorable, for he wished to
destroy him whom he called his greatest foe; but, at last, good counsel
prevailed with him, and Manny was delivered out of prison. He dined with
the French monarch, who deported himself with knightly generosity. He
entertained the Englishman right nobly, and gave him a distinguished seat
on the dais. He also presented to him jewels to the value of a thousand
florins; which Sir Walter received, only upon the condition of having
liberty to return them, if his master, the King of England, did not
approve of his retaining them; and the French king declared that he spoke
like a noble knight.
Sir Walter then recommenced his journey, and soon reached Calais. Edward
welcomed him; but when he heard of the presents, he said, "Sir Walter, you
have hitherto truly served us, and shall continue to do so, we trust.
Return the gifts to King Philip; you have no cause to keep them: thank
God! we have enough for ourselves and for you; and we intend to do much
good to you for the service you have rendered us."
Sir Walter immediately gave those jewels to a cousin of his, named Sir
Mansac, and said, "Ride into France, to the King, and commend me to him,
and say, that I thank him a thousand times for his gift; but as it is not
the pleasure of the King my master that I should keep it, I send it to him
again."
Sir Mansac, therefore, rode to Paris, and had his royal audience. The King
would not accept the jewels, but pressed them upon the knight, who, less
conscientious than his cousin, thanked His Grace, and was not disposed to
say nay.[40]
[Sidenote: The gentle disposition of Manny.]
Sir Walter remained with his sovereign during the memorable siege of
Calais; and when the inhabitants proposed to capitulate, it was his
counsel that swayed with Edward to offer mercy to the town, on the
surrender of six of its chief burgesses, instead of requiring general
submission. Though Eustace de St. Pierre and his noble companions were
saved by the tears and entreaties of Philippa, yet it was that gentle
knight, Sir Walter Manny, who first endeavoured to turn aside the fierce
wrath of the King. "Noble Sir," said he, "refrain your courage. You have
the reputation of nobleness; therefore do not any thing that can blemish
your renown. Every man will say it is great cruelty to put to death such
honest persons, who, from their own noble feelings, to save their
companions, have placed themselves in your power."[41]
[Sidenote: His importance at Edward's court.]
Sir Walter lost nothing of Edward's consideration by this contradiction of
his humour. But he continued in such favour, that he was permitted to
marry a lady related to the royal family[42]: he was invested with the
Garter; and was summoned to parliament among the barons of England, from
the twenty-first to the forty-fourth year of Edward's reign.[43] He was
among the English lords who signed the treaty of Bretigny in the year
1360; and I regret that he was one of Edward's council who advised the
sending of succours to the Black Prince, when he was about to assist
Peter the Cruel. It is more pleasing to contemplate our cavalier on the
battle-plain than in the hall of deliberation. He was, to the height, a
sage and imaginative soldier; skilful as well as brave in battle.
[Sidenote: His remarkable sagacity.]
When the war between England and France was renewed, in the year 1369, the
Duke of Lancaster (late Earl of Derby) prevented the Duke of Burgundy's
descent upon the English shores, by landing a small army at Calais, and
ravaging the country near Boulogne. The Duke of Burgundy commanded the
heights of Tournehem: the English were in the neighbourhood, and a battle
was daily expected. It was feared, rather than desired, by the English;
for their handful of men were opposed by more than four thousand French
knights. The Duke of Burgundy could not engage without the King's
permission; but the policy of Charles forbad a battle, and the Duke then
desired leave to retire: the King consented. One night, fires were
lighted, and there was an unwonted stir amidst the French camp. Such of
the English as were near it were rouzed from sleep. They awoke the Lord
Robert Namur, who immediately armed himself, and, preceded by a man
bearing his banner, went to the tent of the Duke of Lancaster, who had
been already disturbed. The English lords, one by one, drew about the
Duke, ranging themselves, from the force of habit, fair and softly in
battle-order, without any noise or light, and placing the archers in such
a form as to be ready to receive an attack by the French. No attack was,
however, made; and, after waiting two hours, the Duke consulted with his
lords. It was the sage opinion of Manny that the French had fled, and he
advised Lancaster to pursue them. But the Duke declined this course; for
he said he never could believe that so many valiant men-of-arms and noble
knights would so shamefully depart. As soon as morning arose, it was
discovered, however, that the French camp was deserted; and the Duke of
Lancaster repented that he had not followed the counsel of his experienced
friend.
[Sidenote: His liberality.]
Such was Sir Walter Manny; gallant, hardy, adventurous, and sage.
Something still was wanting to the beautiful perfection of his character;
for courtesy to the ladies, and bravery and skill in the field, did not of
themselves constitute the preux chevalier. Liberality was the graceful
ornament of the knightly character; and the charitable annals of the city
of London place this crown on the brow of our noble representative of
English chivalry.
During a plague in England, in the year 1348, London and its vicinity were
the chief places of suffering; and as no church-yard could contain the
victims, the Bishop of London bought a piece of ground called _No Man's
Land_[44], and consecrated it for burials. In the next year, Sir Walter
Manny materially added to the charities of the bishop; for he purchased,
and caused to be consecrated to the same object, thirteen acres and one
rod of ground adjoining to No Man's Land, and lying in a place called
Spittle Croft, because it belonged to St. Bartholomew's hospital. In the
very year of the purchase, the purpose seemed accomplished, for (according
to certain charters of Edward III. and an inscription on the cross
remaining in Stow's time,) fifty thousand people were buried there. Sir
Walter built a chapel in the cemetery; and, in the year 1371, he founded
an house of Carthusian monks, by the appellation of the Salutation of the
Mother of God, to advance charity, and administer the consolations of
religion.[45]
[Sidenote: His death in 1372.]
[Sidenote: Buried in the Charter-house.]
The last circumstance of his tale shall be told in the fitting strain of
Froissart. "That same season (1372) died the gentle knight, Sir Walter
Manny, in the city of London, whereof all the barons of England were right
sorry, for the truth and good counsel that they had always seen and heard
in him. He was buried, with great solemnity, in the monastery of the
Charter-house, near London; and at the day of his obsequy there were
present the King and all his children, and all the prelates, barons, and
knights of England. His possessions, both in England and beyond the sea,
fell to the Earl of Pembroke, who had married the Lady Anne, his daughter
and heir."[46]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Heroism of Sir James Audley.]
Among the flower of Edward's chivalry, Sir James Audley must be mentioned;
not, indeed, that a detailed history of his exploits would be interesting;
but there was one series of circumstances in his life honourable to his
name and the chivalric character, and distinct and peculiar from every
thing else in the manners of other ages.
Immediately before the battle of Poictiers Sir James said to the Black
Prince, "Sir, I have always truly served my Lord your father, and you
also, and I shall do so as long as I live; and, to prove my disposition, I
once made a vow that the first battle wherein either the King, your
father, or any of his sons, should be engaged, I would be one of the first
setters on, or I would die in the endeavour. Therefore, I request your
Grace, in reward for any service that ever I did to the King your father,
or to you, that you would give me licence to depart from you, in order
that I may accomplish my vow."
The Prince accorded to his desire; and, taking him by the hand, exclaimed,
"Sir James, may God give you this day grace to be the prowest knight of
all my host."
Audley then departed, and set himself in front of the English battles,
accompanied only by four squires, who had sworn never to desert him.
He was anticipated in his gallant purpose by the Lord Eustace
Damberticourt, whose chivalry was inspired by the lady Juliana[47], but he
continued in the front of the battle, performing marvels of arms. He lost
no valuable moments in taking prisoners, but when he had disarmed one
adversary he pressed forwards to another. He was severely hurt, both in
the body and in the face; and, at the conclusion of the mêlèe, his four
squires took him out of the battle, and, laying him under a hedge, they
bound up his wounds.
Edward soon enquired after the fate of his gallant friend; and Sir James,
expressing his joy that his Prince should think of so poor a knight as he
was, called eight of his servants, and made them bear him in a litter to
the royal tent.
The Prince took him in his arms, and, embracing him with true fraternal
affection, said, "Sir James, I ought greatly to honour you, for your
valiantness this day has passed the renown of us all."
"Sir," answered the knight, with true chivalric modesty, "you say as it
pleaseth you. I would it were so; but if I have this day advanced myself
to serve you, and to accomplish my vow, no prowess ought to be reputed to
me."
"Sir James," replied the Prince, "I and all my knights consider you as the
best doer in arms this day; and, in order that you may the better pursue
these wars, I retain you for ever as my knight, with five hundred marks of
yearly revenue."
[Sidenote: His generosity.]
Sir James, after expressing his thanks, was taken back to his tent. He
then called the four squires before him, and resigned to them the
Prince's gift, saying, it was to their valiantness that he owed it. The
Prince soon heard of this noble action, and, sending for him, enquired why
he renounced his kindness. Sir James craved pardon for his conduct, but
affirmed he could do no otherwise; for his squires had that day several
times saved his life, and enabled him to accomplish his vow. Edward's
nobleness disdained any feeling of personal offence; and, in generous
emulation of his friend's liberality, he made in his favour a new grant,
more valuable than the former one.[48]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Memoir of Sir John Chandos.]
[Sidenote: His gallantry to ladies.]
But of all the bold and protruding characters of the court of Edward III.,
none was more distinguished for the greatness and variety of his exploits
than that sage and valiant knight, Sir John Chandos. He was the descendant
of a Norman family, attached to William the Conqueror, and which had been
renowned in every age of its history.[49] While only a squire, he
accompanied Edward III. in his first war in France; and, at the siege of
Cambray, he amazed the prowest knights by the goodly feats of arms done
between him and a squire of Vermandois. At the battle of Vironfosse,
immediately afterwards, he was stationed near the person of his sovereign,
and, for his valour on that occasion, he received knighthood from the
royal sword.[50] Like his friend, Sir Walter Manny, he was gentle, as well
as valiant; and it was Chandos that, with another cavalier, saved the
ladies of the castle of Poys from the brutal assaults of the rabble.[51]
He was in the van, with the Black Prince, at the battle of Cressy; and, at
the battle of Poictiers, he never quitted his side.
[Sidenote: Amusing instance of the pride of knighthood.]
On the day that preceded this last great event an amusing proof occurred
of the pride of knighthood, regarding armorial bearings. Sir John Chandos,
on the part of the English, and the Lord of Claremont for the French, had
been reconnoitering the other's forces; and, as they returned to their
respective hosts, they met, and were mutually astonished that each bore
the same armorial emblem.
The Lord of Claremont exclaimed, "Chandos, how long have you taken on you
to bear my device?"
"Nay, you bear mine," replied the English knight; "for it is mine as well
as yours."
"I deny that" observed the Lord of Claremont; "and were it not for the
truce that this day is between us, I would prove immediately that you have
no right to bear my device."
"Sir," rejoined Chandos, with the calmness of truth and bravery, "you
shall find me to-morrow ready to prove it is mine, as well as yours."
Claremont passionately closed the conference by saying, "these are common
words of you Englishmen; for you can invent nothing new; but you take for
your own whatever you see handsome belonging to others."[52]
[Sidenote: The importance of his counsel at Poictiers.]
At the battle of Poictiers the counsel of Chandos was important to the
fate of the day: for when the English archers had thrown the French into
confusion, he said to the Black Prince, "Sir, take your horse and ride
forth; this day is yours. Let us press forwards to the French king's
battle, for there lies the stress of the matter. I think, verily, by his
valiantness, he will not fly. I trust, by the grace of God and St.
George, that we shall take him; and, Sir, I heard you say that this day I
should see you a good knight." It was this advice which guided the courage
of Edward, and the victory was England's.
[Sidenote: His exploits in Brittany,]
Nothing remarkable is related of Chandos for nine years after the battle
of Poictiers. In 1365 he was the hero and counsellor of the Earl of
Mountfort in his war with the Earl of Blois. Mountfort took no measures
which were not of his suggestion, or met not with his judgment. Chandos
was a valiant as well as a sage knight; for at the battle of Auray his
mighty curtal-axe battered many a helm of the French. The fate of this
battle fixed his friend of Mountfort in the dukedom of Britany; and in the
opinion of the French lords, knights, and squires, the victory had been
gained by the skill and high prowess of Chandos.[53]
[Sidenote: and in Spain.]
He was seneschal of Aquitain, and of all those countries secured to the
English by the treaty of Bretigny. Together with Sir Thomas Phelton, he
was summoned into Angouleme to advise the Black Prince regarding the
affairs of Spain. The deposed king had arrived at Bourdeaux; and Edward,
resolving to assist him, sought to fortify his determination by the
judgment of his friends. Chandos and his counsel earnestly endeavoured to
change his resolve. When, indeed, no considerations could shake the
purpose of the Black Prince, our knight accompanied him into Spain, his
duties to his liege lord demanding his military service.
[Sidenote: Is made a knight banneret.]
Before the battle of Navaret he took the rank and title of knight
banneret. When the sun arose on that memorable day, it was a great beauty
to behold the battles or divisions of the Black Prince's army and their
brilliant harness glittering with its beams. The hostile forces slowly
approached each other. Edward with a brief train of knights ascended a
small hill, and clearly saw their enemy marching straight towards them.
The Prince was then followed by his army; and when they had reached the
other side of the hill they formed themselves in dense array, and each man
buckled on anew his armour and dressed his spear.
Sir John Chandos advanced in front of the battles with his banner uncased
in his hand. He presented it to the Prince, saying, "Sir, behold, here is
my banner. I require you to display it abroad, and give me leave this day
to raise it, for, Sir, I thank God and you, I possess land and heritage
sufficient to maintain it withal."
The Prince and King Peter took between their hands the banner, which was
blazoned with a sharp stake gules, on a field argent, and after having
cut off the end to make it square they spread it abroad; and the Prince
delivered it to Chandos, saying, "Sir John, behold your banner, and God
send you joy, and honor, and strength, to preserve it!"
Chandos bowed, and after thanking the Prince, he went back to his own
company, and said, "Sirs, behold my banner and yours, keep it as your
own."
They took it and were right joyful thereof, declaring that, by the
pleasure of God and St. George, they would keep and defend it to the
utmost of their power.
The banner was then placed in the hands of a worthy English squire, called
William Allestry, who bore it that day, and acquitted himself right nobly.
In that battle, Chandos counselled the Duke of Lancaster as sagely as at
the battle of Poictiers he had counselled Edward. He performed also
wonders in arms, for he was a great and mighty knight, and well formed of
all his limbs; but he adventured himself so far that he was closed in
among his enemies, and at length pressed to the earth. A Spaniard of
gigantic stature fell upon him with dreadful force; but Sir John drew a
knife from his bosom, which he recollected he had about him, and struck
his foeman so fiercely in the back and on the sides, that he wounded him
to death as he lay on him. Sir John turned him over, and rose quickly on
his feet, and his men-at-arms at that time joined him, they having with
much difficulty broken through the press when they saw him felled.[54]
[Sidenote: Quits the Black Prince;]
[Sidenote: but returns.]
Chandos had not succeeded in dissuading the Prince of Wales from his
Spanish war, and he failed also in withdrawing him from the more fatal
project of taxing, beyond usage, his French dominions. Finding him
resolved in his purpose, and not wishing to bear any blame or reproach
about the matter, Sir John took his leave of the Prince, and made his
excuse to go into Normandy to visit the land of St. Saviour le Viscount,
whereof he was lord, for he had not been there for several years. When the
war so fatal to England's power in France broke out, the Black Prince
wrote to Chandos to join him without delay. Sir John immediately went to
Angouleme, and his liege lord joyfully received him. He was made Seneschal
of Poictou at the request of the barons and knights of that country.
[Sidenote: The remarkable generousness of his conduct to Lord Pembroke.]
His deeds of arms equalled his former fame; but it was his chivalric
generosity that was most striking, and the circumstances which accompanied
the appearance of that feature of his character are very interesting. He
wished the Earl of Pembroke, who was in garrison at Mortaygne, to
accompany him in an enterprise into the French territory. The Earl was
well content to have ridden forth; but some of the knights of his counsel
broke his purpose, and said, "Sir, you are but young, and your nobleness
is to come; and if you put yourself into the company of Sir John Chandos,
he shall have the reputation and voice of it, for you will be regarded
only as his companion; therefore, Sir, it is better for you, since you are
a great lord, that you perform your enterprises by yourself, and let Sir
John Chandos perform his; for in comparison with your estate, he is but a
knight bachelor."
The Earl of Pembroke accordingly excused himself; and Sir John Chandos,
unaided by him, went into Anjou, accompanied by three hundred spears of
knights and squires, and two hundred archers. He achieved all his
emprises; and hearing at last that Sir Louis of Sancerre, the Marshal of
France, with a great number of men of war, was at Hay in Touraine, he
wished to cope with him; but as his own force was inadequate to so great
an exploit, he sent word of his intention to the Earl of Pembroke,
desiring him to repair with his soldiers to Chatelterault.
Chandos the herald took the message; but the Earl by counsel of his
knights again refused. The herald repaired to Sir John at Chatelterault,
and the enterprise was broken up in consequence of the presumption and
pride of the Earl of Pembroke: Chandos gave leave to most of his company
to depart, and he himself went to Poictiers. Some of his men joined the
Earl of Pembroke; who, at the head of three hundred knights and squires,
committed great destruction in Anjou, and returned with immense booty into
Poictou.
The Frenchmen, thinking it a more easy chevisance to discomfit him than
Sir John Chandos, assembled seven hundred soldiers from all the garrisons
in the country, and Sir Louis of Sancerre took the command. The Earl of
Pembroke heard nothing of the enemy, and not having the vigilance of Sir
John Chandos he took no pains to enquire. The English were one day
reposing in a village called Puirenon, in the territory of Poictou, when
suddenly the Frenchmen came into the town, their spears in their rests,
crying their cry, "Our Lady of Sancerre, for the Marshal of France." The
English were dressing their horses, and preparing their suppers, when they
were thus unexpectedly assailed. Several were killed, all the plunder was
retaken, many prisoners were made, and the Earl of Pembroke and some of
his knights and archers saved themselves in a preceptory of the Templars.
The Frenchmen assaulted it gallantly, and it was as gallantly defended,
till night put an end to the assault.
The English were so severely straitened for provisions, that they knew
they must speedily surrender, unless Chandos came to their succour. A
squire, who professed to know the country, offered to go to Sir John, and
he accordingly left the fortress when the French had retired to rest. But
he soon lost his road, and did not recover it till morning.
At day-break the French renewed their assaults, and mounted the walls with
pavesses to defend their heads from the missiles of the English. The Earl
of Pembroke and his little band fought so bravely, from morning until
noon, that the French were obliged to desist, and to resort to the
uncavalierlike mode of worsting their gallant foes by sending to the
neighbouring villages for pikes and mattocks, that they might undermine
and break down the wall.
Then the Earl of Pembroke called a squire to him, and said, "Friend, take
my courser, and issue out at the back postern, and ride straight to
Poictiers, and show Sir John Chandos the state and danger we are in; and
recommend me to him by this token," added the Earl, taking a ring from his
finger: "deliver it to him, for Sir John knows it well."
The squire took the ring, and immediately mounting his courser, fled
through the postern, thinking he should achieve great honor if he could
reach Sir John Chandos.
The first squire having lost so much time in the confusion of the night
did not arrive at Poictiers till nine in the morning. He found Sir John at
mass; and, in consequence of the importance of his message, he disturbed
his devotions.
Chandos's feelings had been severely offended by the pride and presumption
of the Earl of Pembroke, and he was in no great haste to relieve him. He
heard the mass out. The tables were then arranged for the noon repast.
The servants, among whom the message of the squire had been bruited,
enquired of Sir John if he would go to dinner. He replied, "Yes; if it
were ready."
He went into the hall, and knights and squires brought him water. While he
was washing, the second squire from the Earl of Pembroke, pale, weary, and
travel-soiled, entered the hall, and knelt before him, and took the ring
out of his purse, and said, "Right dear Sir, the Earl of Pembroke
recommends himself to you by this token, and heartily desires your
assistance in relieving him from his present danger at Puirenon."
Chandos took the ring; but instead of calling his friends to arm, he
coldly observed, that it would be difficult to assist the Earl if the
affair were such as the squire had represented it. "Let us go to dinner,"
said he; and accordingly the knights sat down.
The first course was eaten in silence, for Chandos was thoughtful, and the
minds of his friends were not idle.
In the middle of the second course, when the generous wine of France had
roused his better nature, he started from a reverie, and with a smile of
pride and generousness exclaimed, "Sirs, the Earl of Pembroke is a noble
man, and of great lineage: he is son of my natural lord the King of
England, for he hath married his daughter, and in every thing he is
companion to the Earl of Cambridge. He hath required me to come, to him,
and I ought to consent to his desire."
Then thrusting the table from him, and rising to the full height of his
fine martial figure, he cried, "Gallant knights, I will ride to Puirenon."
This noble and generous resolve found an echo in the heart of every one
that was present. The trumpets sounded, the knights hastily donned their
armour, and saddled the first horses they could meet with; and in a few
moments the court-yard glittered with more than two hundred spears. They
rode apace towards Puirenon; but news of their approach reached the
vigilant French in sufficient time for them to abandon the siege, and
effect their retreat with their prisoners and booty.
The Earl of Pembroke soon found that the terror of the name of Chandos had
scared the foe, and he proposed to his companions to ride towards
Poictiers and meet their deliverers. They accordingly left the village in
a right pleasant mood, some on foot, others on horses, and many a gallant
steed carried double that day. They had not ridden a league before they
met Sir John Chandos and his company, who much to their regret heard of
the retreat of the French. The two parties rode in company for the space
of three leagues, holding merry converse on deeds of arms. They then
departed, Chandos returning to Poictiers, and the Earl of Pembroke to
Mortaygne.[55]
[Sidenote: The last curious circumstances of his life.]
Our knight's career of glory approached its close. By the treachery of a
monk, the abbey of St. Salvyn, seven leagues from Poictiers, fell into the
possession of the French, who all that year, 1371, had been harassing the
English territories. Chandos was deeply mortified at the loss of the
abbey, it being within the scope of his seneschalship. To recover it by
chivalric skill, or to bring his enemies to fair and manly battle, seemed
equally impossible, and his high spirit was wounded at these insults to
his military abilities. On the last day of December he made an
unsuccessful attempt to recover the abbey; and when he returned to the
town of Chauvigny, he dismissed two-thirds of his troops, knights of
Poictou and England. Sir Thomas Percy, with thirty spears, had his leave
to go in quest of adventures. His own mind was too ill at rest for him to
indulge in mere chivalric exercises; and after he had wished them good
speed he went back into the house full of melancholy thoughts. He would
not retire to rest though the night was far advanced; but he remained in
the kitchen warming himself by the fire, his servants endeavouring by
their jests and tales to banish his uneasiness.
Before daylight a man with the haste and anxiety of the bearer of news of
import came into the house.
"The Frenchmen are riding abroad," said he to Sir John.
"How knowest thou that?"
"I left St. Salvyn with them," was the answer.
"Which way did they ride?" demanded Chandos.
"Their exact course I wot not," replied his informant; "but I saw them on
the high road to Poictiers."
"What Frenchmen?" required Sir John.
"Sir Louis of St. Julian, and Carnot the Breton."
"Well," quoth Chandos, "I care not: I have no mind to ride forth to-night:
it may happen that they may be encountered, though I am not there."
The conversation closed here, but Chandos could not dismiss the subject
from his mind. He mused upon what he had heard, and hope gradually broke
through the gloom of his disappointment.
He then told his knights he would ride to Poictiers, and they joyfully
caparisoned their horses.
Chandos and forty spears left Chauvigny before daylight, and getting into
the Frenchmen's course, they soon overtook them near the bridge of Lusac.
They were on foot, preparing to attack Sir Thomas Percy and his little
band, who had posted themselves on the other side of the bridge.
Before the Frenchmen and Bretons had arranged their plan of assault, they
heard the trampling of Chandos's war-horses, and turning round they saw
his dreadful banner displayed. He approached within three furlongs of the
bridge and had a parley with them. He reproached them for their robberies
and acts of violence in the country whereof he was seneschal.
"It is more than a year and a half," he continued, "that I have set all my
aim to find and encounter you, and now, I thank God, I see you and speak
to you. It shall soon be known who is prowest, you or I. You have often
vaunted your desire to meet me; now you may see me before you.--I am John
Chandos: regard me well," he thundered in their ears, his countenance
darkening as he spoke.
At that moment an English squire was struck to the earth by the lance of a
Breton. The generous nature of Chandos was rouzed at this ungallant act;
and, in a tone of mingled expostulation and reproof, he cried to his own
company, "Sirs, how is it that you suffer this squire thus to be slain? A
foot, a foot!"
He dismounted, and so did all his band, and they advanced against the
French. His banner, with the escutcheon above his arms, was carried before
him, and some of his men-at-arms surrounded it. Chandos missed his steps,
for the ground was slippery from the hoar-frost of the morning, and in his
impatience for battle he entangled his feet in the folds of his surcoat.
He fell just as he reached his enemy; and as he was rising, the lance of a
French squire entered his flesh, under the left eye, between the nose and
the forehead. Chandos could not see to ward off the stroke; for, some
years before, he had lost the sight of that eye, while hunting the hart in
the country round Bourdeaux: unhappily, too, his helmet was without the
defence of its vizor.
He fell upon the earth, and rolled over two or three times, from the pain
of the wound, but he never spoke again.
The French endeavoured to seize him; but his uncle, Sir Edward Clifford,
bestrode the body, and defended it so valorously, that soon none dared to
approach him.
[Sidenote: Grief at his death.]
The barons and knights of Poictou were conquerors, and when the confusion
was hushed, they flocked round their outstretched friend and seneschal.
They wept, they wrung their hands, they tore their hair, and gave way to
every violent expression of grief. They called him the flower of chivalry,
and lamented the hour when the lance was forged which had brought him into
peril of death.
He heard and understood them well, but was unable to reply. His servants
then unarmed him; and, laying him upon a pavesse, or large shield, they
bore him gently to the neighbouring fortress of Mortimer.
He died on the following day; and a cavalier more courteous, and more
worthily adorned with noble virtues and high qualities, never adorned the
English chivalry. He was, in sooth, as gallant a knight as ever laid lance
in rest.
The Prince of Wales, the Earl of Cambridge, the Earl of Pembroke, and,
indeed, all the English barons and knights then in Guienne, lamented his
fate, as the loss of all the English dominions in France; and many right
noble and valiant knights of France mourned the death of a generous foe,
and they wished he had been made prisoner; for they said he was so sage
and imaginative that he would have planned a peace between the two
nations.[56]
Chandos was never married. All the estates which he had won by his valour
went to his three sisters.
CHAP. II.
PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN GREAT BRITAIN,
FROM THE REIGN OF RICHARD II. TO THAT OF HENRY VIII.
_Complaints of the unchivalric State of Richard's Court ... Influence
of Chivalry on the national Character ... Scottish Chivalry ...
Chivalric Kindness of Robert Bruce ... Mutual Chivalry between the
Scotch and English Courts ... French Knights' Opinions of Scottish
Chivalry ... Courtesies between English and Scottish Knights ...
Chivalric Battle of Otterbourn ... Hotspur and the Douglas ... A
cavaleresque Story ... Reign of Henry IV. ... Chivalric Parley between
him and the Duke of Orleans ... Henry's unchivalric Conduct at
Shrewsbury ... Henry V. ... Knights of the Bath ... Henry's Love of
chivalric Books ... His chivalric Bearing ... Commencement of the
Decline of Chivalry ... The Civil Wars injured Chivalry ... Caxton's
Lamentation ... He exaggerates the Evil ... Many gallant English
Knights ... Character of Henry VIII. with Reference to Chivalry ...
Tournaments in his Reign ... Field of the Cloth of Gold ...
Introduction of Italian Literature favoured Romance ... Popularity of
Chivalric Literature ... English Knights continued to break Lances for
Ladies' Love ... State of Scottish Chivalry at this Period ... James
IV. ... Chivalric Circumstances at Flodden Field._
In the reign of Richard II. the splendor of England's chivalry was
clouded. That monarch had neither spirit nor ambition to recover the
possessions which had been wrested from the crown during the illness of
his father, the Black Prince, and the imbecility of his grandfather,
Edward III.; for though the war with France nominally continued, yet he
gave few occasions for his knights to break their lances with the French.
Not that England enjoyed a state of perfect peace, but the wars in France
and Portugal had no brilliant results, for the English knights were no
longer guided by the sageness of Chandos, or the gallantry of Prince
Edward.
[Sidenote: Complaints of the unchivalric state of Richard's court.]
England was menaced with invasion by Charles VI. of France; but the
project died away, and nothing gave greater offence to the people than the
want of spirit in the court, in not revenging itself for the insult. A
comparison was immediately instituted between the present and the
preceding reign. Where were those great enterprises, it was asked, which
distinguished the days of King Edward III.? where could be found the
valiant men who had fought with the Prince, his son? In those days England
was feared, and was reputed as possessing the flower of Christian
chivalry; but now no man speaks of her, now there are no wars but such as
are made on poor men's purses, and thereto every one is inclined.[57]
[Sidenote: Influence of chivalry on the national character.]
The expensive wars of England with France were productive of mighty
consequences to the English constitution. An application for redress of
grievances always met the demand of supplies, and public liberty
benefitted by the costly ambition of the crown. The wars did not spring
from chivalry, and we cannot, therefore, ascribe to that bright source any
general political advantages which resulted from them: but chivalry gave
the tone to the manner in which they were waged; hers were all the
humanities of the contest; hers was, at least, half the distinction (for
we must remember the bow was as formidable as the lance) of establishing
the glory of the country; of giving her that proud character for martial
prowess, which has outlived her brief and feeble tenure of the territorial
consequences of victory.
Richard II. did not emulate the martial fame of his father. His neglect of
the warriors of the former reign was not among the slightest causes of
that disaffection which ultimately ruined him. One of the public
grievances, as stated to the throne by the House of Commons, was that the
chivalry of the country had been discountenanced and disgraced, and that
the growth of vice had consequently increased.[58]
Richard was a voluptuous prince; the splendour of chivalry hung over his
court; his tilts and tournaments were unusually magnificent; but the
martial and, therefore, the chief spring of knighthood was wanting. A
warlike sovereign could have found rich materials among his people for
ambitious enterprises. The increasing wealth of the nation, arising from
its improving commerce, displayed itself in luxuries; and the aspiring
commonalty imitated the chivalric courtesies of the great. It marks the
state of manners, that the splendid tapestries of the citizens represented
the martial achievements of Edward III.[59]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Scottish chivalry.]
The names of the Douglas and the Percy were so highly distinguished in the
fourteenth century, that the reign of Richard II. is a fit place for some
notices of northern chivalry. The battle of Bannockburn proved that, in
gallantry and generosity, the essentials of knighthood, the Scots were as
noble as the cavaliers of the south; and there was a fine wildness of
imagination among the people which was suitable to the romantic genius of
chivalry.[60] But those of Scotland's heroes whose lives are known to us
were patriots rather than cavaliers, the circumstances of the times in
which they lived inflaming them with different passions than those which
knighthood could inspire.
[Sidenote: Chivalric kindness of Robert Bruce.]
Sometimes, however, the stern virtues of patriotism were graced and
softened by chivalric courtesy. Perhaps the most pleasing instance of this
occurred in the conduct of Robert Bruce, in the year 1317, when he was
assisting his brother, Edward Bruce, to subjugate Ireland; and I will not
injure the story by telling it in any other way than in the simple and
beautiful strain of the poet:
"The king has heard a woman cry,
He asked, what that was in hy?[61]
It is the layndar[62], Sir, said ane,
That her child-ill[63] right now has ta'en,
And must leave now behind us here,
Therefore she makes an evil cheer.[64]
The king said, "Certes, it were pity
That she in that point left should be,
For certes, I trow there is no man
That he no will rue[65] a woman than."
His hosts all then arrested he,
And gert a tent soon stintit[66] be;
And gert her gang in hastily,
And other women to be her by.
While she was delivered he bade,
And syne forth on his ways rade.
And how she forth should carried be,
Or he forth fure[67] ordained he.
This was a full great courtesy,
That swilk a king and so mighty,
Gert his men dwell on this manner,
But for a poor lavender."[68]
The Bruce, book xi. l. 270.
At the court of the Scottish kings, knighthood was always regarded as a
distinction worthy of the highest ambition. Its objects were the same as
in other countries,--the defence of the church, protection of the
helpless, and generosity to woman. The form of the chivalric oath has been
preserved, and it presents us with a curious picture of ancient manners:
1. I shall fortify and defend the Christian religion to the uttermost
of my power.
2. I shall be loyal and true to my sovereign lord the king; to all
orders of chivalry, and to the noble office of arms.
3. I shall fortify and defend justice at my power; and that without
favour or enmity.
4. I shall never flee from my sovereign lord the king; nor from his
lieutenants, in time of affray or battle.
5. I shall defend my native land from all aliens and strangers.
6. I shall defend the just action and quarrel of all ladies of honour,
of all true and friendless widows, of orphans, and of maidens of good
fame.
7. I shall do diligence, wheresoever I hear that there are any
murderers, traitors, or masterful robbers, who oppress the king's
lieges and poor people, to bring them to the law at my power.
8. I shall maintain and uphold the noble state of chivalry, with
horse, armour, and other knightly habiliments, and shall help and
succour those of the same order, at my power, if they have need.
9. I shall enquire and seek to have the knowledge and understanding of
all the articles and points contained in the book of chivalry. All
these promises to observe, keep, and fulfil, I oblige myself: so help
me God by my own hand, and by God himself.[69]
[Sidenote: Mutual chivalry between the Scotch and English courts.]
Chivalric honours formed sometimes a bond of connection between the
Scottish and the English sovereigns. When Prince Henry (afterwards King
Henry II.) arrived at the age of sixteen years, his father Geoffry sent
him through England with a numerous and splendid retinue into Scotland, to
receive the honour of knighthood from his mother's uncle, King David. The
ceremony was performed with great pomp, in the midst of a prodigious
concourse of the English, Scottish, and Norman nobility; and the Prince
spent about eight months in the court of Scotland, perfecting himself in
military exercises.[70]
A few years afterwards chivalric honors were conferred by Henry II. of
England upon Malcolm II. But the granting of knighthood was not regarded
as a matter of mere courtesy. When the kings met at Carlisle, in 1158, the
previous cession of the northern provinces by Malcolm to Henry gave rise
to such heats and feuds, that the Scottish monarch departed without
receiving the honour he desired. In the next year, however, Henry, by
excellent address, persuaded Malcolm to accompany him to France for the
recovery of Tholouse, which he claimed as part of the inheritance of
Eleanor his queen; and the honor which Henry had refused in the last year
to give him at Carlisle, he now conferred upon him at Tours in France, in
the course of his return from the Tholouse expedition.[71]
In 1249 when King Alexander III. repaired from Scotland to York to be
married to the Princess Margaret, daughter of Henry III. of England, the
ceremonies of chivalry preceded those of marriage. Alexander received the
ensigns of knighthood from the King of England on Christmas day, and the
hand of his bride on the following morning.[72] Tournaments were
occasionally held at the Scottish court, and strangers were courteously
received.[73] Knights from Scotland are frequently mentioned in the old
chronicles as having won the prize in the chivalric festivals in France
and England. In the wars of the Scots with Edward III. no circumstances of
a character peculiarly knightly can be selected; and in the intervals of
truce chivalry could not, as in the wars between England and France, give
the guise of friendship to occasional intercourse. In the year 1341, a
time of peace, Edward passed some time in Scotland. Tournaments and jousts
formed the occupation of the strangers and the natives; but neither party
regarded the gentle rules of the tourney, and two Scottish knights and one
English knight were killed.[74]
[Sidenote: French knights' opinions of Scottish chivalry.]
Nothing could contribute more powerfully to the advancement of chivalry in
the north than the frequent intercourse between the Scots and the French.
The latter people, however, would not always acknowlege the chivalric
character of their allies. In the year 1385, a troop of French knights
joined the Scottish king; and they soon were grieved that they had ever
left their own country. They complained to their leader Sir John of
Vienne of their unhappy lot. They had no tapestried halls and goodly
castles as in France; and instead of soft beds their couches were as hard
as the ground.
Sir John was a true son of chivalry; and he said to them, "Sirs, it
behoves us to suffer a little, and to speak fair since we are in the
perils of war. Let us take in cheerfulness that which we find. We cannot
always be at Paris, Dijon, Beaune, or at Chalons. It behoveth them that
live in the world thinking to have honour, to suffer poverty as well as to
enjoy wealth."
The reader of English history remembers that Richard II. invaded Scotland;
that at the same time the Scots ravaged Cumberland and Westmorland; and
that each army boasted that the destruction it had committed was fully as
dreadful as the havoc made by the other. It is more curious to notice the
trait of manners which general historians have altogether omitted, that
when the French knights returned home, they complained that they had never
passed through so painful an enterprise. Not that they regarded the
perilous mêlée, but it was because they returned without horse or harness,
poor and feeble. They wished that the French king, would unite with the
English king, and go into Scotland and destroy that realm for ever. The
Scots were an evil people, traitors, and altogether foolish in feats of
war.[75]
English knights always more rejoiced when the trumpet summoned them to
France than to Scotland. The rich wines, the fine country, the superior
chivalry of the French were preferred before the poverty and bleakness of
the north. When the English knights went to Scotland they were obliged to
carry provisions with them; and also horses' shoes and harness, the
country not furnishing iron or leather.[76]
[Sidenote: Courtesies between English and Scottish knights.]
The wars between England and Scotland, though fierce and sanguinary,
admitted the display of the liberal feelings of chivalry. "Englishmen on
the one party, and Scots on the other," says Froissart, "are good men of
war; for when they meet there is a hard fight without sparing. There is
no pause between them as long as spears, swords, axes, or daggers will
endure. When one party hath obtained the victory, they then glorify so in
their deeds of arms and are so joyful, that such as are taken are ransomed
ere they go out of the field; so that shortly each of them is so content
with the other, that at their departing they will say courteously, God
thank you."[77]
[Sidenote: Chivalric battle of Otterbourn, 21st July, 1388.]
These remarks of Froissart, so interesting because so characteristic of
manners, prelude the most chivalric battle that ever was fought between
Scotland and England. Other battles were decided either by the bow or by
that general military skill which was not peculiar to chivalry; but the
battle of Otterbourn was a knightly mêlée, and was as truly chivalric as
an encounter of cavaliers in the tournament. In the reign of Richard II.
of England, and a few years after the circumstances in his time already
alluded to, the Scots commanded by James Earl Douglas, taking advantage of
the troubles between the King and his parliament, poured upon the south.
When they were sated with plunder and destruction, they rested at
Newcastle, near the English force which the Earl of Northumberland and
other border-chieftains had hastily levied.
[Sidenote: Hotspur and the Douglas.]
The Earl's two sons were young and lusty knights, and ever foremost at the
barriers to skirmish. Many proper feats of arms were done and achieved.
The fighting was hand to hand. The noblest encounter was that which
occurred between the Earl Douglas and Sir Henry Percy, surnamed
Hotspur.[78] The Scot won the pennon of his foeman; and in the triumph of
his victory he exclaimed that he would carry it to Scotland, and set it on
high on his castle of Dalkeith, that it might be seen afar off.
Percy indignantly replied, that Douglas should not pass the border without
being met in a manner which would give him no cause for boasting.
With equal spirit the Earl Douglas invited him that night to his lodging
to seek for his pennon.
The Scots then retired, and kept careful watch, lest the taunts of their
leader should urge the Englishmen to make an attack. Percy's spirit burned
to efface his reproach, but he was counselled into calmness.
The Scots then dislodged, seemingly resolved to return with all haste to
their own country. But Otterbourn arrested their steps. The castle
resisted the assault; and the capture of it would have been of such little
value to them that most of the Scotch knights wished that the enterprise
should be abandoned.
Douglas commanded, however, that the assault should be persevered in, and
he was entirely influenced by his chivalric feelings. He contended that
the very difficulty of the enterprise was the reason of undertaking it;
and he wished not to be too far from Sir Henry Percy, lest that gallant
knight should not be able to do his devoir in redeeming his pledge of
winning the pennon of his arms again.
Hotspur was not altogether that impatient spirit which poetry has
described him. He longed, indeed, to follow the Douglas, and redeem his
badge of honor; but the sage knights of the country, and such as were well
expert in arms, spoke against his opinion, and said to him, "Sir, there
fortuneth in war oftentimes many losses. If the Earl of Douglas has won
your pennon, he bought it dear, for he came to the gate to seek it, and
was well beaten: another day you shall win as much of him and more. Sir,
we say this because we know well that all the power of Scotland is abroad
in the fields; and if we issue forth and are not strong enough to fight
with them, (and perchance they have made this skirmish with us to draw us
out of the town,) they may soon enclose us, and do with us what they will.
It is better to lose a pennon than two or three hundred knights and
squires, and put all the country to adventure."
By such words as these Hotspur and his brother were refrained from their
purpose; for like sage and imaginative knights they would do nothing
against counsel.
Soon afterwards it was discovered that the whole amount of the Scottish
force did not exceed three thousand men. Hotspur's heart leapt for joy at
the prospect of glory which this news opened to him; and, like a true son
of chivalry, he cried to his friends; "Sirs, let us spring upon our
horses, for by the faith I owe unto God, and to my lord my father, I will
go and seek my pennon, and dislodge the Scots this same night."
Incontinently knights and squires donned their helms and cuirasses, and
vaulted on their war-steeds. They rode more than apace to Otterbourn, and
reached the Scottish camp by night. They far outnumbered their foemen, but
the numerical was not the physical strength, for the English were
forespent with travel, while the Scots were fresh and well rested.
The hostile banners waved in the night-breeze, and the bright moon, which
had been more wont to look upon the loves than the wars of chivalry,
lighted up the Scottish camp. A battle ensued of as valiant a character as
any recorded in the pages of history; for there was neither knight nor
squire but that did his devoir and fought hand to hand. The English dashed
upon their foemen with such spirit, that their charge would have been
irresistible, if Douglas, who was of great heart and high of enterprise,
had not taken his axe in both his hands, and supported his retreating
band. At length he was encountered by three spears at once, and borne
perforce to the earth. One of his companions, a gallant knight, and a
chaplain who fought on that occasion like a valiant man of arms with a
good axe in his hands, skirmished about the Earl as he lay, and kept the
press from him.[79]
When it was known that Douglas had fallen, some of his knights ran with
breathless anxiety to the spot and asked him how he sped. "Right evil,
cousins," quoth the Earl; "but, thank God, very few of my ancestors have
died in their beds. But I require you to avenge my death, for I feel my
heart fainting within me. Raise my banner, but do not declare my case to
any one; for my enemies would rejoice, and my friends be discomforted, to
hear that I had been wounded to death."
In a moment the proud ensign of his chivalry waved once again over the
Scottish knights, and each gallant man-at-arms cheered his companion's
heart by crying the war-cry of the Douglas. The Percys were made
prisoners, Hotspur[80] by the Earl Montgomery, and Sir Ralph by Sir John
Maxwell. Finally, the Scottish chivalry prevailed, and they remained
masters of the field.[81]
Nothing could be more gallant than the demeanor of the Scots. They wished
to take alive Thomas Felton, an English squire, whose valour excited their
admiration; but, like a true hero, he submitted to be slain rather than to
be vanquished.
The Scots, when the Englishmen yielded, were courteous, and set them to
their ransom; and every man said to his prisoner, "Sir, go and unarm you,
and take your ease;" and they lived together as if they had been brethren.
[Sidenote: A chivalric story.]
Among the circumstances connected with the battle, none is more
interesting than this:--When the fate of the night was decided, Sir
Matthew Redman, an Englishman, and governor of Berwick, spurred his horse
from the field, but was hotly pursued by the Scottish knight, Sir James
Lindsay, and he could not escape, for his panting charger fell under him.
Lindsay dismounted, and the two knights fought well and chivalrously, the
Scotsman with his axe (the favorite weapon of the nation), and the English
knight with his sword. The axe prevailed, and Redman surrendered himself,
rescue or no rescue. He wished to go to Newcastle, and his master (for
such, as we have often seen, was the title of a knight who held another
captive,) permitted him to depart, on his pledging his word of chivalry,
that within three weeks he would meet him at Edinburgh. The knights then
separated; but as Lindsay was returning to the Scottish host, priding
himself on his success, he was surrounded by the Bishop of Durham and a
numerous troop. Some hours before, they had marched purposely to the
succour of Percy; but the clangour of the mêlée had terrified them into a
retreat. They possessed sufficient bravery, however, to take a single and
battle-worn knight. He was led to Newcastle, where he met Sir Matthew
Redman; and these two gallant cavaliers dined right merrily together, and,
after quaffing many a cup of rich wine, to the honour and health of their
mistresses, they arranged with the bishop the conditions of each other's
liberation.[82]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Reign of Henry IV. Chivalric parley between him and the Duke of
Orleans.]
The reign of Henry IV. of England was not altogether void of chivalric
interest. While Duke of Lancaster he had chosen Louis, Duke of Orleans,
for his brother in chivalry. Each had promised to the other that they
would live in the warmest affection of true friendship. Each vowed to be a
friend and well-wisher to the friends and well-wishers of the other, and
an enemy to his enemies, as became the honour and reputation of both; and
that at all times, and in all places, they would by words and deeds assist
each other in the defence of his person, honour, and estate. These
chivalric engagements between the two Dukes had been made known to the
world in an instrument called a letter of alliance, dated the 17th of
June, 1396.
The friendship lasted during the remainder of the reign of Richard II.;
but the deposition of that monarch was so odious a circumstance, in the
eyes of the court of France, the daughter of whose sovereign Richard had
married, that although no open rupture of the existing truce between the
two nations took place, yet many high-spirited French noblemen made
private war upon the English king.
The Duke of Orleans, his sworn brother in arms, challenged Henry IV. to
meet him at any place he chose in France, each of them being accompanied
by one hundred knights and squires, of name and arms without reproach, and
to combat together till one of the parties should surrender.
Henry declined the challenge, alleging, as his reasons, the public truce
between the two countries, to which the Duke of Orleans was a party, and
the particular treaty of alliance between themselves. That treaty,
however, he now annulled, and threw aside thenceforth all love and
affection towards the Duke. He declared that it would be unworthy of his
high rank to accept the challenge of any one of inferior dignity to
himself, nor had any of his royal progenitors ever employed his arms with
one hundred or more persons, in such a cause: but whenever he should think
it convenient to visit his possessions on the French side of the sea,
accompanied by such numbers of persons as he thought proper, the Duke of
Orleans might assemble as many persons as he should judge expedient, to
acquire honour in the accomplishing of all his courageous desires; and he
should not depart without being satisfied in a combat between themselves;
which mode of terminating their dispute was preferable to any other that
might occasion the effusion of more Christian blood.
The Duke of Orleans replied that the public truce had been violated by
Henry himself, when he made war upon Richard the ally of France. With
respect to the articles of friendship between themselves, the allies of
the king of France had been excepted from their provisions, and therefore
either party was left to his choice of conduct regarding the deportment of
the other to any of their allies. On the subject of a remark of Henry that
no knight of whatever rank he might be, ought to request a deed of arms,
until he should have returned any articles of alliance that might exist
between himself and the challenged person, Louis satirically enquired
whether Henry had rendered to his lord, King Richard, the oath of fidelity
he had made to him, before he had proceeded in the manner he had done
against his person. The Duke insinuated that Richard's death had been
compassed by Henry, and then enquired how the King could suffer that noble
lady, the Queen of England, to return to France so desolate after the
death of her husband, despoiled of her portion and dower. The man who
sought to gain honour was always the defender and guardian of the rights
of widows and damsels of virtuous life, such as the niece of the Duke of
Orleans was known to lead; and as he was so nearly related to her,
acquitting himself towards God and towards her as a relation, he replied,
that to avoid effusion of blood he would cheerfully meet him in single
combat.
In reply to this letter Henry observed, that when public affairs had
called him from France to England, Louis had promised him aid, and that
therefore the Duke could not in justice comment on the late revolution:
but that with respect to Richard personally, he, Henry, now king, denied
most warmly and solemnly that his death had been occasioned by his order
or consent. He declared it to be false, and said it would be false each
time that Louis uttered it; and this he was ready to prove, through the
grace of God, in personal combat. He repelled the charge of cruelty to
Isabella; contending that, on the contrary, he had ever shown kindness and
friendship to her, and wishing that Louis had never acted with greater
rigour, unkindness, or cruelty towards any lady or damsel than he had done
to her.
But the proposed combat never took place; nor can it be inferred that
either party was very sincere in his challenge, for the ambassadors of
Henry at the court of France often complained of the conduct of Louis, but
Louis never reiterated his challenge, and no satisfaction was rendered,
the King and council waiving the matter entirely, and coldly stating that
they would always continue firm to the engagements which they had made
with England.[83]
[Sidenote: Henry's unchivalric conduct at Shrewsbury.]
In another event, the most important event of his reign, the conduct of
Henry was most decidedly unchivalric. When at the battle of Shrewsbury
(July 21. 1403,) the banners advanced, and the air was rent with the
war-cries "Saint George!" and "Esperance Percy!" the archers on either
side drew their tough bow-strings with such murderous energy, that the
several lines of knights and men-at-arms with difficulty maintained their
ground.
In this moment of peril, when the stoutest hearts quailed, the gallant
Hotspur, and Archibald Earl Douglas[84], with a small band of brothers in
arms, started from their host, and throwing their warlike shields before
them, rushed, amidst an iron shower, into the very centre, the best
defended part, of the royal army. Their battle-axes and good swords made
fearful havoc among the King's guards, the standard of England was trodden
under foot, and the Earl of Stafford and that "dear and true industrious
friend" of the King, Sir Robert Blunt, who were armed in the royal guise,
were slain.[85] Hotspur sought in vain for the King; for when His Grace
observed the Percies sweeping across the field, he had followed the
prudent counsel of the Earl of Dunbar, and changing his armour for that of
a common knight, he repaired to another part of the plain.
The Prince of Wales displayed more bravery than his father, and he was
wounded while maintaining his position.
Hotspur now formed his little band into a dense array, and endeavoured to
retire to his line of knights. But while he was fighting with all the
courage of his high chivalry, a random arrow brought him to the earth. His
death was almost instantaneous; and the event was viewed through either
army with the various feelings of joy and woe. He had been the inspiring
soul of his own host, and his fall was the signal for their dispersion.
The character of courage can scarcely be denied to Henry IV., but it was
not graced by any of the lofty daring of chivalry. An Edward would have
braved the fiercest danger, he would never have thrown aside the insignia
of his rank, and clothing some noble friends in the royal habiliments have
left them to perish in his stead. The conduct of Henry might have been
royal, but it certainly was not chivalric.[86]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Henry V.]
[Sidenote: Knights of the Bath.]
The glories of chivalry seemed to be revived in the reign of Harry
Monmouth. His coronation was accompanied by a large creation of a class of
knights, whose peculiar nature I have not yet expressed. In early ages of
English history there seems to have been two descriptions of cavaliers,
the Knights of the Sword, and the Knights of the Bath. The former were
made both in times of war and peace, the latter only at coronations, royal
marriages, and other festive occasions. The dubbing with the sword was the
simple ceremony of creating knights of the one class; but most of the
forms of chivalry were used in the investiture of those of the other: and
as the Bath was a very remarkable part of the ceremony, and the
exhortation to the performance of chivalric duties was delivered to the
knight while he was in it, the knights so created were reputed knights of
the Bath.
The Knights of the Sword, or Knights Bachelors, were created by the
sheriffs of counties, by virtue of letters from the king commanding his
officers to knight those persons, who, in consequence of their landed
estates, were worthy of the honour; but when the other class was to be
enlarged, the king selected a certain number of the young nobility and
gentry, and he himself assisted at the ceremony.
Knights of the Bath always took precedence of knights bachelors; and as
the superiority of knights of the Garter was shown by the circumstance,
that on the installation of a knight there was a creation of knights of
the Bath, so on any other occasion when knights of the Bath were made,
there was, in honor of the circumstance, a creation of knights of the
Sword.
The exact time when this distinction was first made between knights of the
Bath and knights of the Sword has eluded the investigation of antiquaries,
nor does it deserve a lengthened enquiry. It may be marked in the reign of
Henry IV.[87], and was probably of earlier origin; and at the coronation
of his son this feature of our ancient manners was fully displayed.
The King, with a noble and numerous train of lords spiritual and temporal,
left his palace at Kingston-upon-Thames, and rode at a soft pace towards
London. He was met and greeted by a countless throng of earls, barons,
knights, squires, and other men of landed estate and consideration; and as
he approached the city, a solemn procession of its clergy, and a gorgeous
train of its merchants and tradesmen, hailed his approach. The King was
conducted with every mark of honour to the Tower, where about fifty
gallant young gentlemen of noble birth were waiting in expectation of
receiving the honour of knighthood from the King, on occasion of the
august ceremony of his coronation. The sovereign feasted his lords in the
Tower; and these young candidates for chivalry, in testimony that they
should not be compellable at any future time to perform the like service
in the habit of esquires, served up the dishes at this royal festival
according to the usage of chivalry in England; and immediately after the
entertainment they retired to an apartment where dukes, earls, barons, and
honourable knights, as their counsellors or directors, instructed them
upon their behaviour, when they should become knights of the venerable
order of the Bath.
The young candidates, according to custom, went into the baths prepared
severally for them, performing their vigils and the other rites and
exercises of chivalric practice. Much of the night was passed in watching
and prayer, the rest they slept away in rich golden beds. They arose on
the first appearance of the next morning's dawn; and, after giving their
beds to the domestic servants of the King's household, as their customary
fee, they proceeded to hear mass. Their devotions concluded, they clad
themselves in rich silk mantles, to whose left shoulders were attached a
double cordon or strings of white silk, from which white tassels were
pendent. This addition to the mantle was not regarded as a decoration, but
a badge of gentle shame, which the knight was obliged to wear until some
high emprise had been achieved by him. The proud calls of his knighthood
were remissible, however, by his lady-love; for a fair and noble damsel
could remove this stigma from his shoulder, at her own sweet will; for
there were no limits to woman's power in the glorious days of
chivalry.[88]
The young soldiers mounted noble war-steeds and rode to the gate of the
royal palace, where, dismounting, each of them was supported by two
knights, and conducted with all proper marks of honour and respect into
the presence of the King, who, sitting in royal magnificence, the throne
being surrounded with the great officers of state, promoted them severally
to the honour of knighthood. A great festival was then given in their
honour, and they were permitted to sit down in their rich silk mantles in
the King's presence; but they were not allowed to taste any part of the
entertainment; for it was a feature in the simple manners of our
ancestors, that new made knights like new made wives ought to be
scrupulously modest and abstemious.[89]
After the royal feast was done, the young cavaliers, divesting themselves
of their mantles, put on rich robes ornamented with ensigns of dependence
on the King. The next day, when the King rode to Westminster in much state
and solemn order, all these young knights whom he had just honoured with
the order of chivalry preceded him, riding with noble chevisance through
the middle of the city; and so splendid was their appearance that the
spectators (observes the old chronicler) seemed inebriated with joy.[90]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Henry's love of chivalric books.]
It is a pleasing and convincing proof of the chivalric spirit of Harry
Monmouth, that he commanded Lydgate to translate into English the
Destruction of Troy, in order that the public mind might be restored to
its ancient military tone. He wished that the remembrance of the valiant
dead should live, that the worthiness and prowess of the old chivalry and
true knighthood should be remembered again.[91] Accordingly, the youth of
England were on fire, and honour's thought reigned solely in the breast of
every man.
"They sell the pasture now to buy the horse;
Following the mirror of all Christian kings,
With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now sits Expectation in the air,
And hides a sword, from heels unto the point,
With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets,
Promis'd to Harry and his followers."[92]
[Sidenote: His chivalric bearing.]
Certainly the march to Calais (after the taking of Harfleur) was never
exceeded in heroic bravery by any imaginary exploit in romance. The
attenuated condition of his army forbad all immediate prosecution of his
ambitious aspirations for the French crown; but a direct return to England
did not accord with his high and courageous spirit; and, treating the soil
of France as if it were his own, he resolved to march to Calais. He
professed neither desire nor fear to meet his enemies; and he pursued his
march with firm and grave steps, openly declaring to the French heralds
the destination of his course. Political objects were suspended, but he
secretly wished to raise the chivalric character of his people; and he had
numbers and vigour yet remaining to have a joust to the utterance with his
enemies. As at Poictiers so at Agincourt, the yeomen divided with the
knights of England the glory of the conquest: but the battle of Agincourt
was in itself more heroic, for the English themselves were the assailants,
instead of, as in the former battle, waiting the attack.
Henry's disdain of the wish of having more men from England,--his noble
cry, "Banners, advance!" when his few thousands were ranged against all
the proud chivalry of France,--his rendering himself conspicuous by his
crown, his armour, and his splendid tunic,--his knighting some brave Welsh
soldiers, his personal defenders, even as they lay expiring;--these
circumstances, vouched for, as they are, by the most faithful chroniclers,
apparently belong to the romance rather than to the history of chivalry.
After the battle he was as courteous[93] to his noble prisoners as the
Black Prince had been on a similar occasion; and there was something very
beautiful in his not permitting his battered helmet, with its royal crown,
to be exhibited, during the customary show at his public entrance into
London.[94]
[Sidenote: Commencement of the decline of chivalry.]
Henry V. was the last of our chivalric kings. Though he revived the fame
of Edward III. and the Black Prince, yet immediately after his reign the
glories of English chivalry began to wane.
In our subsequent wars in France, indeed, there were among our nobility
many knightly spirits,--the Warwicks, the Talbots, the Suffolks, the
Salisburys, all worthy to have been the paladins of Charlemagne, the
knights of Arthur's Round Table. But they went not with the character of
the age; they opposed, rather than reflected it. Chivalry was no longer a
national feature in our wars when there was no sovereign to fan the flame.
[Sidenote: The civil wars.]
[Sidenote: Caxton's lamentation.]
Henry VI. was a devotee, and Edward IV. a voluptuary. The civil wars in
England operated as fatally upon the noble order of knighthood as the
civil wars in France had done in that country. In those contests, far
fiercer than national hostilities, there was a ruthlessness of spirit that
mocked the gentle influences of chivalry. Accordingly it was asked, in the
time of Edward IV., "How many knights are there now in England that have
the use and exercise of a knight? that is to say, that he knoweth his
horse, and his horse him, ready to a point to have all things that
belongeth to a knight; a horse that is according and broken after its
kind, his armour and harness meet and fitting."[95] "I would," continues
the father of English printing, "it pleased our sovereign lord that twice
or thrice in a year he would cry jousts of peace, to the end that every
knight should have horse and harness, and also the use and craft of a
knight; and also to tourney, one against one, or two against two, and the
best to have a prize, a diamond or jewel. The exercises of chivalry are
not used and honoured as they were in ancient time, when the noble acts of
the knights of England that used chivalry were renowned through the
universal world. O ye knights of England, where is the custom and usage of
noble chivalry? What do ye now but go to the bains and play at dice? Alas!
what do ye but sleep and take ease, and are all disordered from chivalry?
Leave this, leave it, and read the noble volumes of St. Graal, of
Launcelot, of Tristrem, of Galaod, of Perceval, of Perceforest, of Gawayn,
and many more. There shall ye see manhood, courtesy, and gentilness."[96]
To this testimony of the decline of chivalry must be added the important
fact that in 1439 people petitioned parliament for liberty to commute by
a pecuniary fine the obligation to receive knighthood. This change of
manners did not occur, as is generally supposed, in consequence of the use
of gunpowder; for during the civil wars in England artillery was seldom
and but partially used in the field, and, except at the great battle of
Tewkesbury, in the year 1471, that arm of power had no effect on the
general issue of battles. The cavalry and infantry were arranged in the
old system: the lance was the weapon of those of gentle birth, while the
bow and the bill were used by people of inferior state. Comines, who wrote
about the close of the fifteenth century, says, that the archers formed
the main strength of a battle.[97]
[Sidenote: He exaggerates the evil.]
Though the civil wars had injured, they had not altogether destroyed the
spirit of chivalry. There was yet enough of it remaining among the people
to have borne its old shape and appearance, if England had once more been
possessed of a Black Prince or a Harry Monmouth. But we had no such
sovereign; and the increasing use of gunpowder effectually prevented the
return of chivalric customs in battle. The feelings of a nation are
reflected in its literature; and we find that the taste of the English
people was altogether in favour of romances and histories of chivalry, as
Caxton's various publications prove. The declamation of Caxton against the
degeneracy of the age, which has been already cited, must not be
interpreted literally in all its points. Romance writers, like moralists,
had before praised the past at the expence of the present times. So early
as the thirteenth century, Thomas of Erceldoune, called the Rhymer, had
bewailed the depravity of his contemporaries, and had likened the
degeneracy of his age to the change which the approaching winter must
produce upon the appearance of the fields and groves.
"This semly somers day,
In winter it is nought sen:
This greves (groves), waxen al gray,
That in her time were grene;
So dos this world I say,
Y wis and nought at wene;
The gode bene al oway,
That our elders have bene
To abide."[98]
Caxton's mind was full of the high interest of chivalry, and it was very
natural of him to lament that the same enthusiasm did not warm the hearts
of others. But he must have considered the feelings of chivalry as
dormant, and not extinct, or he would never have addressed the public in
the manner he did at the close of his preface to his edition of the
romances relating to Arthur and the knights of the Round Table. He printed
the work, he says, "to the intent that noble men may see and learn the
noble acts of chivalry, the gentle and virtuous deeds that some knights
used in those days, by which they came to honour, and how they that were
vicious were punished, and oft put to shame and rebuke, humbly beseeching
all noble lords and ladies, with all other estates of what estate or
degree they be of, that shall see and read in this said book and work,
that they take the good and honest acts in their remembrance, and to
follow the same. Wherein they shall find many joyous and pleasant
histories, and many noble and renowned acts of humanity, gentleness, and
chivalry. For herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity,
friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate,
virtue, and sin. Do after the good and leave the evil, and it shall bring
you to good fame and renommée."
[Sidenote: Many gallant English knights.]
His question, how many knights of England were there in England that had
the use and exercise of chivalry, could have been answered by many
accomplished cavaliers. The King, at the very time when Caxton wrote, was
giving licences to his subjects to progress into foreign countries, and
perform feats of arms; and foreign princes, barons, and knights, came into
England, under royal protection, to grace our tilts and tournaments.[99]
Every marriage, and other interesting circumstances in the lives of the
nobility, was celebrated by knightly shows in honour of arms and of the
ladies.
[Sidenote: Character of Henry VIII. with reference to chivalry.]
The forms of chivalry appeared more splendid than before, as chivalry
approached its downfall. Henry VII., the least warlike of our sovereigns,
created knights with remarkable brilliancy of ceremony; and the jousts and
tournaments in the days of his son and successor would have graced the
best ages of chivalry. But Henry VIII. had none of the virtues of a true
knight, and his conduct to his wives was any thing but chivalric.[100] He
displayed his great strength and activity of person in the tournament,
because that amusement was one of English custom, but he would as readily
have engaged in any other exercise more strictly gymnastic. He affected,
however, to joust from true feelings of knighthood; for he used on these
occasions to wear on his head a lady's sleeve full of diamonds. He was as
famous for his tournaments as Edward III. had been for his battles. In
many of the early years of his reign he was perpetually breaking spears,
or fighting at barriers with a two-handed sword, and to his rank, if not
to his skill, the prize was generally adjudged. But his skill was
sometimes undoubted; for, like the knights of old, he occasionally fought
in disguise[101], and yet conquered; and he encountered, with similar
success, men of other countries who, for various reasons of affairs or
pleasure, travelled to England.
The jousts and tournaments in the days of Henry VIII. are extremely
interesting, as reflecting a state of manners different from those of
earlier times. Tournaments were no longer simple representations of
chivalry, but splendid pageants were united to them.
[Sidenote: Tournaments in his reign.]
In June, 1512 a solemn tournament was kept at Greenwich, the King and Sir
Charles Brandon undertaking to abide all comers. To this goodly show the
ladies were the first that approached, dressed in white and red silk, and
seated upon horses, the colours of whose trappings corresponded with those
of the ladies' dresses. A fountain curiously made of russet satin, having
eight mouths spouting water, then followed. Within this piece of splendour
and ingenuity sat a knight armed at all points. The next person in the
procession was a lady covered with black silk dropped with fine silver,
riding on a courser barded in a similar manner. A knight in a horse-litter
then followed. When the fountain arrived at the tilting ground, the ladies
rode round the lists, and so did the fountain, and the knight within the
litter. Two goodly coursers caparisoned for the jousts then were
introduced. The two knights left the fountain and the litter and mounted
them, the surprised spectators beholding the King and Sir Charles Brandon.
The challenge to all comers was then proclaimed by the heralds; and while
the trumpets were sounding all the inspiring notes of chivalry, at one end
of the lists entered Sir Thomas Knevet in a castle of coal black, and over
the castle was written 'The dolorous Castle.' The Earl of Essex, the Lord
Howard, and other knights splendidly attired, then pricked into the
lists, and with Sir Thomas encountered the King and Sir Charles Brandon.
The details of the tournament have not been recorded; the chronicler
contenting himself with observing, that the King broke most spears, and
that the prize fell to his lot.[102]
Henry displayed his joy at the birth of his son, Prince Arthur, by a
solemn tournament. The court removed from Richmond to Westminster. The
King himself determined to tourney, and he selected four knights to aid
him. He styled himself "Cure Loial," the Lord William Earl of Devonshire
was called "Bon Voloire," Sir Thomas Knevet, "Bon Espoir," and Sir Edward
Nevill chose for his tourneying name "Valiant Desire." These four noble
spirits were called "Les quatre chevaliers de la forrest Salvigne." Their
names were written upon a goodly table, which was suspended from a tree,
curiously wrought, the knights engaging to run at the tilt against all
comers. Accordingly, by the prescribed time, a court in the palace was
prepared for the games, and the Queen and her ladies were conducted to a
gallery richly hung inside with cloth of gold, and on the outside with
cloth of arras. A pageant preceded the sports of chivalry. It is
described as representing a forest, with rocks, hills, and vales, with
trees, herbs, and flowers, made of green velvet, damask and silk. Six men
clad as foresters stood at different parts; and in the midst of the forest
was a castle apparently made of gold, and before the gate sat a gentleman
splendidly apparelled, weaving a garland of roses for the prize. The
spectators imagined that the pageant was drawn into the court by a lion
and an antelope, who were led by men in the guise of savages. When the
pageant rested before the Queen, the foresters blew their horns, and from
different parts of the forest the four knights issued armed at all points
and mounted on their war-steeds. Each knight carried his lance, a plume of
feathers surmounted his crest, and his name was embroidered on the bases
of gold which covered his horse. At the moment of these knights starting
from the forest, and the court resounding with the noise of drums and
trumpets, the Earl of Essex, the Lord Thomas Howard, and many other
nobles, entered the court, and then the jousts commenced. But who deserved
best that day the historian has not mentioned. The next afternoon the
Queen repaired to her gallery; and instead of the King and his aids being
introduced in a pageant, they entered the court under splendid pavilions
of cloths of gold and velvet. On the other side of the lists Sir Charles
Brandon entered in the guise of a recluse or religious person, his horse
being also caparisoned in the simplest form. No drum or other sound of
minstrelsy ushered his approach; but he slowly and silently advanced to
the Queen, and presented to her a writing, whose effect was, that if she
pleased he would tourney in her presence, but if it suited her not, he
would depart as he came. The Queen smiled and bowed assent; and Sir
Charles, retiring to one end of the lists, threw aside the disguise of his
splendid armour. The young Henry Guilford, enclosed in a device or a
pageant made like a castle or turret, then approached the Queen, and
obtained her leave to engage in the tilt. Next appeared the Marquis Dorset
and Sir Thomas Bullen, like two pilgrims from Saint James, in tabards of
black velvet, with palmers' hats on their helmets, with long Jacobs'
staves in their hands, their horse-trappings of black velvet, the harness
of men and steeds being set with scallop shells of fine gold and strips of
black velvet, every strip being also adorned with golden scallop shells.
Next came the Lord Henry of Buckingham, Sir Giles Capell, and many other
knights. The sports then commenced, and as on the preceding day the King
won the prize. In the evening the ambassadors and the nobility supped with
the royal family, and after the banquet the King with the Queen and lords
and ladies entered the white-hall of the palace. Songs, dancing, and
minstrels, succeeded, and in the midst of the merriment the King retired
unseen. Soon afterwards the trumpets at the end of the hall began to
sound, and a pageant upon wheels was brought in. A gentleman richly
attired descended from it, and approaching the Queen in a supplicatory
attitude, told her that in a garden of pleasure there was an arbour of
gold wherein were lords and ladies much desirous to show pastime to the
Queen and court, if they might be permitted so to do. The Queen replied,
that she was very desirous to see them and their pastime. A cloth of arras
was therefore drawn from the front of the pageant, and rich
representations of nature saluted the eye. Six ladies, dressed with more
bravery than the dull chronicler can describe, were seen in the arbour,
supported by the King and five gallant knights. The whole scene appeared
one blaze of gold. After the applause which this splendour elicited had
subsided, the lords and ladies descended from the pageant, the minstrels
sounded their music of gaiety, and the whole court mixed in the dance. And
the people, too, had their amusement; for some portion of the simplicity
of ancient times remained, and royalty was not thought to lose any thing
of its dignity by being presented to the public eye. The pageant was
conveyed to the end of the palace, there to tarry till the dances were
finished, and so to have received the lords and ladies again; but suddenly
the rude and joyous people ran to it, and tore and rent and spoilt it; and
the Lord Steward and his officers, seeing that they could not drive them
away without a conflict and disturbance, suffered the pageant to be
destroyed.[103]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Field of the cloth of gold.]
The field of the cloth of gold has been so often described in works of
ready access, that I should not be warranted in attempting to picture
again its gay and sparkling scene. But some of its circumstances have not
been sufficiently noticed; and they are so expressive of the chivalric
feelings of the time that a history of chivalry would be imperfect without
a description of them.
The whole ceremonial of the meeting between Henry VIII. and Francis I. was
regulated by Cardinal Wolsey,
"One certes, that promised no element
In such a business."
And the principle which guided this right reverend cardinal of York was
political subtlety, and not knightly liberality. The English sojourned at
Guisnes, the French at Ardres. On the morning of the first royal
interview, the two kings and their numerous followers left their
respective pavilions at the signal of a gun fired at Guisnes, and returned
from Ardres. They slowly measured the way to the intermediate plain in the
silence of apprehension; for the cardinal's ungenerous suspicions had
spread through either host. Once each party halted, expecting an attack;
and when the noise which occasioned the alarm died away, the procession
recommenced its course, confident that the fears of the other side were
greater than their own. The kings met, and so anxious were they to display
their feelings of friendship that they embraced on horseback. They then
dismounted, and having renewed their caresses, they went into a pavilion
of golden cloth; nor did they separate till dinner and familiar
conversation had frozen the etiquette imposed on their manners by the
cardinal.
The next morning the two Queens interchanged visits, and spent some hours
in dancing and other amusements. These interchanges of courtesies warmed
the minds of the two sovereigns to chivalric generousness. One morning
Francis rode to Guisnes with scarcely any attendance. He walked through
the English guard, who drew back in astonishment, and he did not stop
till he reached the chamber where his brother-monarch lay asleep. Francis
soon awoke him; and Henry, immediately comprehending his motives,
declared, in the spirit and language of chivalry, that he yielded himself
his prisoner, and plighted his faith. He then threw round Francis's neck a
collar of great value, and Francis gave him a bracelet of superior worth,
each king entreating the other to wear the gift for his sake. The two
monarchs then became brothers in arms; and with twelve companions
undertook to deliver all persons at jousts, tourney, and barriers.
The chivalric exercises continued for five days, in the presence of the
two queens and the nobility of England and France. French and English
knights were the only part of the chivalry of Europe who answered the
challenge: for chivalry could not then, as in former days, smooth down
personal heats and feuds; and therefore no subject of the wide extended
empire of Charles V. appeared on the field of the cloth of gold. The only
weapons used were spears; but they were impelled with such vigour, as to
be so often broken, that the spectators' eyes were scared with splinters.
Each day the challengers varied their harness and devices, and each day
the two kings ran together so valiantly that the beholders had great
joy.[104]
"Each following day
Became the last day's master, till the next
Made former wonders it's. * * *
* * * * * * * The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them; him in eye,
Still him in praise: and, being present both,
'Twas said, they saw but one; and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns
(For so they phrase 'em) by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story,
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believed."[105]
[Sidenote: Introduction of Italian literature favoured romance.]
There was a considerable portion of chivalry among the nobility of Henry
VIII. In some respects, however, it partook more of the romance of the
Troubadour than the genuine character of knighthood: for the tale that
Lord Surrey travelled from court to court proclaiming the peerless beauty
of his lady-love, and challenging all gainsayers to a joust _à l'outrance_
is totally void of truth[106]; and it only appears that his Lordship
fostered for the fair Geraldine a sentimental affection without distinct
views. It was altogether a poet's dream; and the Italian muse, who was at
that time worshipped in England, favoured such fond imaginings.
[Sidenote: Popularity of chivalric literature.]
Much of the literature of the time was chivalric. Every noble spirit loved
the Knight's Tale of Chaucer. The French and Spanish stories of warriors
and dames were transfused into English; as was the fine Chronicle of
Froissart by Lord Berners at the command of the King; and the vigorous,
rich, and picturesque style of our language in those days was admirably
adapted for a history of the most brilliant age of knighthood. That the
spirit of chivalry was not extinct in the reign of Henry VIII. is evident
from this work of Lord Berners, for the ordinary diction of the day was
used; and it was to the full as expressive of the gallantry and grace of
the olden time as the original work itself.
[Sidenote: Chivalric education of nobility.]
The education of our English gentry was nearly as chivalric then as at any
previous period of our history. Boys were sent to school to learn to read
at four years of age. At six they were taught languages and the first
principles of manners: from ten to twelve dancing and music were added to
their accomplishments, and politeness was particularly encouraged. At
fourteen they were initiated into the sports of the field which prepared
them for the ruder exercise of arms. At sixteen they were taught to joust,
to fight at the barriers, to manage the war-horse, to assail castles, to
support the weight of armour, and to contend in feats of arms with their
companions. And there their education terminated.[107] When they went to
battle they demeaned themselves worthy of their education.
[Sidenote: English knights continued to break lances for ladies' love.]
In all the military expeditions of the English on the Continent, the
soldiers of either army were continually challenging each other to break a
lance for their ladies' sake. Sir John Wallop, in his march with a British
army to Landrecy, in the year 1543, went to the town of Terouenne, and,
recollecting that the commandant was an old acquaintance, he addressed him
in the true spirit of chivalry, that if there were any gentlemen under his
charge willing to break a lance for their ladies' sake, six gentlemen
should be sent from the English army to meet them. The challenge was
accepted, the jousts were held, and, after this fine old chivalric mode of
displaying his friendship, Sir John Wallop held on his course to
Landrecy.[108]
[Sidenote: State of Scottish chivalry at this period.]
[Sidenote: James IV.]
The early part of the sixteenth century forms a very interesting æra of
British chivalry; for it introduces to our notice James IV. of Scotland, a
hero both of knighthood and romance. He was as expert and graceful in
tournaments and jousts as any cavalier who was the theme of history or
poetry. On occasion of his marriage with Margaret of England, his
chivalric shows were splendid beyond example. He was wont to personate
King Arthur, or to take the title and appearance of an imaginary
creature, called the Savage Knight. His tilt-yards reflected the glories
of the last king of the Britons, and the knights of the Round Table, or
represented a wild and romantic country, with Highlanders clad in savage
dresses guarding the barriers. Like a knight of the bye-gone time, he was
a pilgrim as well as a soldier, and we will hope, for the purity of
earlier days of chivalry, that his heroic predecessors did not often, like
himself, turn aside from their pious peregrinations to wander amidst the
bowers of castles, with ladies fair.
The romantic gallantry of his disposition was so well known, that cooler
politicians used it to the purposes of their ambition. The French king,
Louis XII., was abandoned by most of his allies, and was anxious to renew
the ancient alliance of France with Scotland: yet England and Scotland
were at that time at peace, and the two countries appeared to be united in
friendship by the marriage of James with Margaret, the King of England's
sister. But Louis knew the character of the man whose aid he required, and
he played upon it with admirable dexterity. In 1504, he sent, as his
ambassador to the Scottish court, Bernard Stuart, Lord of Aubigny, one of
the most distinguished cavaliers of France. This envoy admirably supported
the objects of his master: he soon won the affections of James, and his
discourses on wars and tournaments disposed the King to love the chivalric
French.
A few years afterwards Louis, still continuing to play on his chivalric
feelings, made his wife, Anne of Britanny, choose James for her knight and
champion, to protect her from all her enemies. The idea of winning by this
scheme the Scottish King to the purposes of France originated with Andrew
Forman, Bishop of Moray, the Scottish ambassador at Paris, who, to promote
his own aggrandisement, would have sacrificed king and country.[109] The
agent of the scheme was La Motte, the French ambassador at Edinburgh, who
was as skilful as his martial predecessor, the Lord of Aubigny, in
flattering James to his ruin. He presented him letters from the French
Queen, wherein, taking the style of a high-born damsel in distress, she
termed him her knight, and, assuring him she had suffered much blame in
defence of his honor, she beseeched him to advance but three steps into
the English territory with his army, for the sake of his mistress. These
letters were accompanied by a present of 14,000 crowns, and a ring from
her own finger.[110] The chivalry and vanity of James were rouzed by
these appeals, and he became the willing tool of French ambition.
The circumstances which succeeded his allying himself with France fall not
within my province to detail. The battle of Flodden Field was their crown
and conclusion; and although there was nothing chivalric in the battle
itself, yet a few matters which preceded it come within my subject.
Indeed, in the times regarding which I am writing, chivalry was no longer
a national distinction, and therefore cannot be marked in public affairs;
its lights fell only upon a few individuals.
[Sidenote: Chivalric circumstances at Flodden.]
On the fifth of September, the Earl of Surrey[111], who commanded the
English forces, dispatched a herald from Alnwick to the Scottish camp,
offering James battle on a particular day, (Friday, the 9th of September,
1513,) and James, like a gallant knight, accepted the challenge. He then
removed his camp from Ford[112], and took a strong position on the ridge
of Flodden hill, "one of the last and lowest eminences detached from the
ridge of Cheviot." On the sixth the English reached Wooller-haugh, a place
within three miles of the Scottish camp, and, observing the admirable
position of the foe, the Earl of Surrey formed a scheme which, he hoped,
would make them relinquish their advantage. Knowing the King's undaunted
courage, and high sense of honour, he wrote a letter, subscribed by
himself and all the great men in his army, reproaching him for having
changed his ground, after he had accepted the offer of battle, and
challenging him to descend, like a brave and honourable prince, into the
spacious vale of Millfield, that lay between the two armies, and there
decide the quarrel on fair and equal terms.[113] This scheme failed; for
James was not at that moment so ridiculously romantic as to forego an
advantage which his skill had obtained; and he only replied that he should
expect the English on the day appointed for battle. Surrey would have been
mad to have attacked him in his present position; and he, therefore, on
the morning of the 8th of September, formed his army into marching order,
crossed the Till near Wooller, progressed towards Berwick, and rested at
Barmore wood. The Scottish nobles apprehended that it was the intention of
the English to plunder the fertile country of the Merse; and they
therefore importuned James to march to the defence of his own dominions:
but the King declined, alleging that his honour was engaged to remain in
his present station until the morrow, which was the appointed time for
battle. On that morrow Surrey directed his course to the Tweed; but,
suddenly changing his line of march, he repassed the Till at the bridge of
Twissel. Before the army had entirely passed, Robert Borthwick, the
commander of James's artillery, entreated the permission of his sovereign
to destroy the bridge, and thus break the enemy's force; but the King gave
a stern denial, declaring that he wished to have all his enemies before
him, and to fight them fairly.[114] By this fatal folly James lost all the
advantages of his position; for the English formed behind him, and Flodden
was open and accessible to them. If personal bravery, independent of
sageness, had been the character of a knight, James deserved all chivalric
honours; for, disdaining the counsel to behold the battle afar off, he
mingled boldly in the thickest of the press. The field was won by the
English archers; but James did not live to repent the enthusiasm of his
chivalry, which had cost his country so much blood, for he was killed
within a lance's length of Lord Surrey. The romantic chivalry of James was
deeply injurious to Scotland. She had, in his reign, attained a
considerable eminence of national prosperity, but the defeat at Flodden
hurled her from her station. The country was "left a prey to foreign
influence and intrigue, which continued till it ceased to form a separate
kingdom: her finances were exhausted, her leaders corrupted, her dignity
degraded, her commerce and her agriculture neglected."[115]
CHAP. III.
THE LAST YEARS OF CHIVALRY IN ENGLAND.
_The Chivalric Feelings of the Nation supported by Spenser ... and by
Sir Philip Sidney ... Allusions to Sidney's Life ... particularly his
kindly Consideration ... Chivalric Politeness of the Age of Elizabeth
... The Earl of Oxford ... Tilts in Greenwich Park ... Sir Henry Lee
... Chivalry reflected in the popular Amusements ... Change of Manners
... Reign of James the First ... Tournaments ceased, on Prince Henry's
Death ... Life of Lord Herbert of Cherbury ... Chivalric Fame of his
Family ... His Character ... His Inferiority to the Knights of yore
... Decline of Chivalric Education ... Important Change in Knighthood
by the Parliament of Charles the First ... Application of Chivalric
Honors to Men of civil Station ... Knights made in the Field ...
Carpet Knights ... Knights of the Bath ... Full Account of the Ancient
Ceremonies of creating Knights of the Bath._
[Sidenote: The chivalric feelings of the nation supported by Spenser,]
The reigns of Edward VI. and Mary present nothing to our purpose; but the
Elizabethan age is fraught with interest. Our continued intercourse with
Italy promoted anew the love for romance and allegory which religious
controversy had for some years been gradually stifling. Though classical
literature had revived in Italy, the muse of chivalry was most fondly
worshipped, and the mind delighted to wander amidst the enchanted garden
of Armida. Our well-travelled ancestors brought home with them the love
for romantic poetry and allegory; and Spenser's genius, influenced by the
prevailing taste of his day, chose Ariosto for his model, and painted the
wild adventures of heroes and ladies. Chivalry was the supposed perfection
of man's moral nature; and the English poet, therefore, described the
chief private virtues exemplified in the conduct of knights: it being his
wish, as he expressed his mind to Sir Walter Raleigh, to fashion a
gentleman or noble person in valorous and gentle discipline. His principal
hero, he in whom the image of a brave knight was perfected in the twelve
moral virtues, was King Arthur; and the poet freely used the circumstances
and sentiments in the romances relating to that British hero, and also the
other popular tales of chivalry.
[Sidenote: and Sir Philip Sidney.]
If poetry nourished the love of valorous knighthood, learning was equally
its friend; and when Spenser addressed Sidney as the noble and virtuous
gentleman, and most worthy of all titles of learning and chivalry, he
spoke the feeling of his age, that the accomplishments of the mind were
best displayed in martial demeanour. At the birth of Sidney, as Ben
Jonson says, all the muses met. In reading the Arcadia, it is impossible
to separate the author from the work, or to think that he has not poured
forth all those imaginings of his fancy which his heart had marked for its
own. He has pourtrayed knights and damsels valiant and gentle, placing all
their fond aspirations of happiness in a rural life, and despising the
pageantry of courts for the deep harmonies of nature. But Sidney's mind
was chivalric as well as romantic; and he was so fond of reverting to the
fabled ages of his country, that it was his intention to turn all the
stories of the Arcadia into the admired legends of Arthur and his
knights.[116] To modern taste the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney presents no
charms: yet, by a singular contradiction, the author, who was the
personification of his book, is regarded as the model of perfection.
"The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd,
The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay."[117]
The popularity, however, of the Arcadia, in the Elizabethan age[118], and
the high reputation of the author, showed the sympathy of the world in
those days for the romance of chivalry.
[Sidenote: Allusions to his life.]
The few circumstances in the brief life of Sidney are too well known for
me to be justified in detailing them: but I may remind my readers that he
was born at Penshurst in Kent, in the year 1544; that he was accomplished
in literature and chivalry by study and travel; that he was a courtier of
Elizabeth, and yet could oppose her dearest fancies, if they were hostile
to the interests of his country; that his opposition to her projected
union with Anjou was spirited and well reasoned; that his love for his
sister and his wife was the softening grace of that desire for chivalric
valour which carried him with his uncle the Earl of Leicester to the
plains of Flanders, in the year 1586; and when he received his mortal
wound before the town of Zutphen, that he resigned a cup of water to the
poor soldier whose lot he thought was more distressing than his own. His
courage, his gallantry, and grace were his best known qualities, and
those for which England and, indeed, Europe, lamented his death. His
funeral in St. Paul's was a national one, the first instance in our
history of honours of that description; and for many months afterwards not
an individual in the court or city appeared in public, except in a garment
of black:--in such high account were chivalric virtues held in the days of
Elizabeth.
[Sidenote: Particularly his kindly consideration.]
One feature of his character but little noticed by modern writers was very
remarkable in those days, and will be better valued now than it was then.
All who enjoyed the hospitality of Penshurst were equal in the
consideration of the host: there were no odious distinctions of rank or
fortune; "the dishes did not grow coarser as they receded from the head of
the table," and no huge salt-cellar divided the noble from the ignoble
guests.[119]
[Sidenote: Chivalric politeness of the age of Elizabeth.]
[Sidenote: The Earl of Oxford.]
The polite gracefulness of Sidney was not rare in his time; and there was
not a courtier, who, if placed in similar circumstances to those of Sir
Walter Raleigh, that would not have cast his handsome plush cloak in the
mire to serve for the Queen, as a foot-cloth. Tournaments as well masks
were the amusements of the age. The prize was always delivered by
Elizabeth who never thought that age could deprive her of the privileges
of beauty. Edward Vere Earl of Oxford was more skilful in these manly
exercises of chivalry than all the other courtiers, even than Sidney, who,
like a magnanimous knight, was eloquent in his praise.
"Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance,
Guided so well that I obtained the prize,
Both by the judgment of the English eyes,
And of some sent from that sweet en'my France:
Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance,
Townsfolks my strength; a daintier judge applies
His praise to sleight, which from good use doth rise:
Some lucky wits impute it but to chance,
Others, because of both sides I do take
My blood from them who did excel in this,
Think nature me a man of arms did make.
How far they shoot awry! The true cause is,
STELLA look'd on, and from her heavenly face
Sent forth the beams which made so fair my race."
Astrophel and Stella, st. 41.
The friendship of Sidney for him for awhile was the only circumstance
which we know to his honour, and it implies the possession of virtuous
qualities in the Earl. A considerable portion of coxcombry belonged to
most of Elizabeth's courtiers; and the noble Lord in question was
distinguished according to Stow, for introducing into this country
embroidered and perfumed gloves.
[Sidenote: Tilts in Greenwich Park.]
The Queen's band of gentlemen-pensioners formed a perfect illustration of
the chivalric principle of the dignity of obedience, for it was the
highest ambition of the nobility to be enrolled among them. Their tilts in
Greenwich Park would have done honour to the brightest days of chivalry.
But still more select were the knights-tilters, a fraternity founded on
the gallant resolve of Sir Henry Lee to appear in the royal tilt-yard on
the anniversary of the Queen's birth in honour of Her Majesty. Some of
these knights were preux chevaliers indeed. The Queen's glove accidentally
dropped from her hand during a tournament, and the Earl of Cumberland had
the good fortune to recover it. Fancying herself some dame of chivalry,
she desired the Earl to retain it; and he with a gallant spirit, regarding
it as the favour of a lady, had it set in diamonds, and always wore it on
festival occasions in the high crowned hats which had superseded the
helmet. For so polite was the court of Elizabeth, that
'Ne any there doth brave or valiant seem,
Unless that same gay mistress' badge he wear.'[120]
[Sidenote: Sir Henry Lee.]
From 1571 to 1590 Sir Henry Lee was the Queen's champion; and being then
worn down with age and infirmity, he resigned his office to the Earl of
Cumberland. The ceremony is admirably expressive of the romantic feeling
of the time and the vanity of Elizabeth. It was partly a mask and partly a
chivalric show. On the 17th of November, 1590, Sir Henry Lee and the Earl,
having performed their services in arms, presented themselves to the Queen
at the foot of the stairs under her gallery-window in the tilt-yard,
Westminster, where Her Majesty was seated, surrounded by the French
ambassador, her ladies, and the chief nobility. Soft music then saluted
the ears of the Queen, and one of the royal singers chaunted these lines:
"My golden locks time hath to silver turn'd,
(Oh time too swift, and swiftness never ceasing!)
My youth 'gainst age, and age at youth hath spurn'd;
But spurn'd in vain, youth waneth by increasing:
Beauty, strength, and youth, flowers fading been,
Duty, faith, and love, are roots, and evergreen.
"My helmet now shall make a hive for bees;
And lovers' songs shall turn to holy psalms:
A man at arms must now sit on his knees,
And feed on prayers that are old age's alms.
And so from court to cottage I depart:
My saint is sure of mine unspotted heart.
"And when I sadly sit in homely cell,
I'll teach my swains this carol for a song:
'Blest be the hearts that think my sovereign well:
Curs'd be the souls that think to do her wrong.'
Goddess! vouchsafe this aged man his right,
To be your beadsman now that was your knight."
A pageant of a temple of the vestal virgins rose out of the earth. Certain
rich gifts were taken from the altar by the attending virgins, and with a
votive tablet, inscribed "To Eliza," was presented to the Queen. Sir Henry
Lee offered his armour before a crowned pillar at the temple-gate, and
then presented the Earl of Cumberland to the Queen, humbly beseeching her
to accept him as her knight to continue the yearly exercises. Her Majesty
having accepted this offer, the aged knight armed the Earl and mounted him
on his horse. He threw over his own person a gown of black velvet, and
covered his head in lieu of a helmet with a bonnet of the country
fashion.[121]
[Sidenote: Chivalry reflected in the popular amusements.]
The popular amusements of England corresponded with those of the court. "I
remember at Mile-end-Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn, I was Sir Dagonet
in Arthur's show," is the avowal of Master Shallow; and thus while
tournaments were held by the court and nobility, other classes of society
diverted themselves with scenic representations of the ancient chivalry.
The recreations of the common people at Christmas and bridals, an author
of the time assures us, consisted in hearing minstrels sing or recite
stories of old times, as the tale of Sir Topas, the Reportes of Bevis of
Southampton, Guy of Warwick, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough, and
other old romances or historical rhymes. And in another place the same
author speaks of companies that were desirous to hear of old adventures,
and valiances of noble knights in times past.[122] The domestic amusements
of the age are thus enumerated by Burton: "The ordinary recreations which
we have in winter are cards, tables and dice, shovel-board, chess-play,
the philosopher's game, small trunks, balliards, music, masks, singing,
dancing, ule games, catches, purposes, questions; _merry tales of errant
knights_, kings, queens, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfs, thieves,
fairies, goblins, friars, witches, and the rest."[123]
[Sidenote: Change of manners.]
In one respect, however, manners underwent a great and distinct change. In
a former chapter, it was mentioned that the Italians invented the long and
pointed sword; and it seems from many scattered allusions to customs in
works of continental history, that it gradually superseded the use of the
broader weapons of knighthood. In Elizabeth's reign the foreign or Italian
rapier was a very favorite weapon. "Sword-and-buckler fight begins to grow
out of use," is the lament of a character in an old comedy. "I am sorry
for it. I shall never see good manhood again. If it be once gone, this
poking fight of rapier and dagger will come up, then a tall man, and a
good sword-and-buckler man will be spitted like a cat or rabbit."[124] The
allusions to this state of manners are more marked and numerous in Ben
Jonson's "Every Man in his Humour," but with that comedy my readers are of
course familiar.
[Sidenote: Reign of James I.]
[Sidenote: Tournaments ceased on Prince Henry's death.]
For some of the early years of James I, tournaments divided with masks the
favour of the court. As soon as Prince Henry reached his sixteenth year,
he put himself forth in a more heroic manner than was usual with princes
of his time, by tiltings, barriers, and other exercises on horseback, the
martial discipline of gentle peace.[125] After his death chivalric sports
fell quite out of fashion.
"Shields and swords
Cobwebb'd and rusty; not a helm affords
A spark of lustre, which were wont to give
Light to the world, and make the nation live."[126]
This was the lamentation of Ben Jonson; and another poet thus describes,
in the person of Britannia, the feelings of the nation:
"Alas! who now shall grace my tournaments,
Or honour me with deeds of chivalry?
What shall become of all my merriments,
My ceremonies, shows of heraldry,
And other rites?"[127]
Military exercises being entirely disused, the mask, with its enchantments
of music, poetry, painting, and dancing, was the only amusement of the
court and nobility.
[Sidenote: Life of Lord Cherbury.]
And now in these last days of chivalry in England a very singular
character appeared upon the scene. This was Edward Herbert, afterwards
Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was born at Eaton, in Shropshire, in the
year 1581. His family were of the class of gentry, and had for many years
executed various royal offices of military trust. His grandfather was a
staunch royalist in the days of Edward VI., and Queen Mary; and he gained
fortune, as well as fame: for it appears that his share of plunder in the
wars in the north, and of the forfeited estates of rebels, was the
foundation of the family wealth.
[Sidenote: Chivalric fame of his family.]
The valour of the Herberts rivalled that of the romantic heroes of
chivalry. Edward has proudly reverted to his great-great grandfather, Sir
Richard Herbert of Colebrook, as an incomparable hero, who twice passed
through a great army of northern men alone, with his pole-axe in his hand,
and returned without any mortal hurt. The courage which had been formerly
displayed in the battle-field was, as times degenerated, reserved for
private wrongs, and the patriot sank into the duellist. At the close of
his life, Edward recollected, with pleasure, that one of his brothers had
carried with him to the grave the scars of twenty-four wounds, many of
them the results of private brawls. Another brother was gentleman of the
King's chamber, and the famous master of the revels; and he, too, had
given several proofs of his courage in duels.
The infancy of Edward was so sickly that his friends did not think fit to
teach him his alphabet till he was seven years old. He would have us
believe, however, that he was wise though not early schooled; for when an
infant he understood what was said by others, yet he forebore to speak,
lest he should utter something that was imperfect or impertinent. When he
began to talk, one of the first enquiries he made was how he had come into
the world. He told his nurse, keeper, and others, that he found himself
here indeed, but from what cause or beginning, or by what means, he could
not imagine. The nurse stared, and other people wondered at this
precocious wisdom; and when he reflected upon the matter in after life he
was happy in the thought, that as he found himself in possession of this
life, without knowing any thing of the pangs and throes his mother
suffered, when doubtless they no less afflicted him than her, so he hoped
that his soul would pass to a better life than this, without being
sensible of the anguish his body would feel in death.[128]
He won the acquaintance of the learned languages, and other branches of
juvenile literature, with great ease; and when at the age of twelve he
was sent to Oxford, he tells us that he disputed at his first coming in
logic, and made in Greek the exercises required in his college oftener
than in Latin. He married at the age of fifteen, and then applied himself
more vigorously than ever to study, particularly the continental
languages: but to fence and to ride the great horse were his principal
ambition, for such were the exercises in which the chivalry of his time
were educated,--and he aspired to fame in every pursuit. From the same
feeling of vanity that urged him to publish his deistical dogmas, he
complacently says of himself that no man understood the use of his weapon
better than himself, or had more dexterously availed himself thereof on
all occasions.[129]
In the year 1600, he removed with his wife and mother from
Montgomery-castle (the seat of his ancestors) to London, and, prompted by
curiosity rather than ambition, he went to court; and as it was the manner
of those times for all men to kneel down before the Queen, he was likewise
upon his knees in the Presence Chamber, when she passed by to the chapel
at Whitehall. As soon as she saw him, she stopped, and, swearing her usual
oath, demanded, "Who is this?" Upon being made acquainted with his name
and circumstances, the Queen looked attentively upon him, and again
giving emphasis to her feelings by an oath, she said that it was a pity he
was married so young, and thereupon gave him her hand twice to kiss, both
times patting him on the cheek. He was made knight of the Bath by James
I.; and with his usual vanity declares that his person was amazingly
commended by the lords and ladies who attended the ceremony. The most
handsome lady of the court pledged her honour for his, and then the
strings of silk and gold were taken from his arm. These strings, as I have
already mentioned, were worn by all the knights till they had achieved
some high deed of arms, or till some lady of honour took them off, and
fastened them on her sleeve, saying that she would answer her friend would
prove a good knight. Like all other knights of the Bath he swore to do
justice to the uttermost of his power, particularly to ladies and
gentlewomen wronged in their honour, if they demanded assistance.
Soon after this circumstance, he was wearied both of literary and domestic
pursuits, and he resolved to travel in foreign countries. His skill in
fencing was now to be brought into play; for he tells us that in France,
in his time, there was scarcely any man thought worthy regard who had not
killed another in a duel.[130] He went to Paris, and was hospitably
entertained at the neighbouring castle of Merlon, by Henry de Montmorenci,
second son of the great Constable Anne de Montmorenci.
An occasion for exercising his fantastic chivalry soon presented itself. A
French cavalier snatched a riband from the bonnet of a young lady, and
fastened it to his own hat-band. He refused to return it, and the injured
damsel asked the English knight to get it restored to her. He accordingly
advanced to the Frenchman, courteously, with his hat in his hand, and
desired him to restore the riband. Meeting only with a rude denial, he
replied he would make him restore it by force. The Frenchman ran away; but
finding himself closely pursued, he turned round to the young lady, and
was about to restore her the top-knot, when Sir Edward seized his arm, and
said to her, "It was I that gave it."--"Pardon me," quoth she, "it is he
that gives it me." Sir Edward observed, "I will not contradict you; but if
he presumes to say that I did not constrain him to give it, I will fight
with him." No reply was made, and the French gentleman conducted the lady
back to the castle. Sir Edward was very anxious for a duel, but none took
place; and he was obliged to please his conscience with the reflection,
that he had acted agreeably to the oath which he took when inaugurated a
knight of the Bath.[131]
On three other occasions, he sported his chivalry in the cause of the
ladies; but the stories of these affairs are poor and uninteresting after
his most delectable behaviour in the Montmorenci garden.
For many years Sir Edward lived in the court or the camp, in France or
England, seldom visiting his wife in Montgomeryshire, and more frequently
busied in private brawls (but his challenges never ripened into duels)
than engaged in philosophical meditation.
In the year 1614, while he was in the service of the Prince of Orange, a
trumpeter came from the hostile (the Spanish) army to his with a
challenge,--that if any cavalier would fight a single combat for the sake
of his mistress, a Spanish knight would meet him. The Prince allowed Sir
Edward to accept the challenge. Accordingly a trumpeter was sent to the
Spanish army with the answer, that if the challenger were a knight without
reproach, Sir Edward Herbert would answer him with such weapons as they
should agree upon. But before this herald could deliver his charge,
another Spanish trumpeter reached the camp of the Prince of Orange,
declaring that the challenge had been given without the consent of the
Marquis of Spinola (the commander), who would not permit it. This appeared
strange to the Prince and Sir Edward; and on their thinking that the
Spaniards might object to the duel taking place in the camp of the
challenged, as it was originally proposed, Sir Edward resolved to go to
the enemy, and give him his choice of place. He accordingly went; but
Spinola would not suffer the duel to be fought. A noble entertainment
greeted the Englishman, the Marquis condescending to present to his guest
the best of the meat which his carver offered to himself. He expressed no
anger that the challenges had been given; for he politely asked his guest
of what disease Sir Francis Vere had died. Sir Edward told him, because he
had nothing to do. Spinola replied, in allusion to the idleness of the
campaign, "And it is enough to kill a General;" and thus impliedly
excused any impatient sallies of his young soldiers.
Sir Henry Wotton, the ambassador of the King of England, having mediated a
peace between the Prince of Orange and the Spaniards, our knight proceeded
on his travels through Germany and Italy. He complimented a nun upon her
singing, while all the other Englishmen present were delighted into
silence: but he was always ready to speak as well as to fight for the
honour of the knighthood of the Bath. "Die whensoever you will," said he
to the young lady, "you need change neither voice nor face to be an
angel!" These words, he assures us, were fatal, for she died shortly
afterwards.
He went to Florence, and was more pleased with a nail, which was at one
end iron and the other gold, than by all the glories of painting and
sculpture with which the Etrurian Athens was then fresh and redolent. He
sojourned for some time at Rome, but hastily left the city when the Pope
was about to bless him. This refusal of an old man's benediction proceeded
from the vanity of his character. Though perfectly indifferent to
Christianity, when he entered Rome he ostentatiously said to the master of
the English college, that he came not to the city to study controversies,
but to view its antiquities; and if, without scandal to the religion in
which he had been born and educated, he might take this liberty, he would
gladly spend some time there. A decorous submission to the usages of Rome
would not have gained him the world's talk; and, therefore, he hastily
quitted the Consistory when the blessing was about to be given, knowing
that such a bold act of contempt on the religion of the place would be
bruited every where.
The remainder of his adventures on the Continent is not worthy of record.
He returned to England; and, in 1616, he was sent to France as the English
ambassador. Previously to his setting off, he engaged to fight a duel,
though the day fixed for the circumstance was Sunday; but when he arrived
at Paris on a Saturday night, he refused to accept an invitation of the
Spanish ambassador for an interview the next morning, because Sunday was a
day, which, as he alleged, he wholly gave to devotion. The spirit of
duelling was far more powerful in his mind than the love of conformity to
religious decencies; but it cost him nothing; indeed, it only aggrandised
his importance to decline the visit of the Spanish ambassador on a Sunday.
He remained some time in France, maintaining the honour of his country on
all occasions; particularly with reference to the mighty question,
whether his coachman, or that of the Spanish ambassador, should take
precedence.
Sir Edward was instructed by his court to mediate between Louis XIII. and
his Protestant subjects; but, instead of conducting the affair with
coolness and political sagacity, he quarrelled with Luines, the minister
of the French king. Complaints of his conduct were sent to England, and he
was recalled. The death of the offended statesman happened soon
afterwards, and Herbert was again dispatched to France.
The next remarkable event in his life was the publication of his book "_De
Veritate_," whose object it was to show the all-sufficiency of natural
religion. But he, who denied the necessity of a revelation to the human
race, of matters concerning their eternal salvation, fancied that Heaven
expressly revealed to him its will that his book should be published. Such
are the inconsistencies of infidelity!
"A godless regent trembling at a star!"
His amusing auto-biography ends with an account of a noise from heaven,
when he prayed for a sign of the Divine will, whether or not he should
print his book.
Not many other circumstances of his life are on record. He was raised to
the Irish peerage in 1625, and, afterwards, was created an English baron,
by the title of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, in Shropshire. He published
another Latin work, in support of the cause of infidelity, and then gave
to the world his History of the Reign of Henry VIII.; a book which has
been always characterised, by writers who have never read a line of it, as
a master-piece of historic biography; and if gross partiality for his
hero, profound ignorance of human nature, imperfect acquaintance with his
subject, and a pedantic style, constitute the excellence of
memoir-writing, Lord Herbert is an author of the first class.
Though he had been raised to the peerage by the Stuarts, yet in the days
of Charles I. we find him on the side of the parliament. Montgomery-castle
was demolished by the King's troops, and the parliament made him a
pecuniary compensation. He removed to London, died in 1648, and was buried
in St. Giles's.
[Sidenote: His character.]
[Sidenote: His inferiority to the knights of yore.]
Such was Lord Herbert of Cherbury. His life may be placed in opposition
to, rather than in harmony with, the heroes of early chivalric times. He
had their courage, it is true, but he had none of their dignity and
nobleness, none of their manly grace; and there was a fantastic trifling
in his conduct, which their elevated natures would have scorned. He was no
Christian knight: the superstition of the Chandos's and Mannys, gross as
it was, is not so offensive to the moral sense as the craft and subtlety
of Lord Cherbury's intellect, which refined Christianity into deism. We
can admire the heroes of the days of Edward III., placing their swords'
points on the Gospels, and vowing to defend the truth to the utterance;
but how absurd was the fanaticism, and contemptible the vanity, of him who
expected that Heaven would declare its will that he should deliver to the
world the vain chimeras of his imagination!
[Sidenote: Decline of chivalric education.]
The history of English chivalry is now fast drawing to a close. We may
mark the state of the system of chivalric education in the castles of the
nobility. Every great lord, as his ancestors had been, was still attended
by several of the inferior nobility and gentry, and such service was not
accounted dishonourable. The boys were, as of old, called pages, though
perhaps the age for this title somewhat stepped beyond the ancient limit.
But this was not the only change in that class of the chivalry of England.
In former days pages had been the attendants of the great in the
amusements of the chace and the baronial hall; and had sometimes shared,
with the squire, the more perilous duties of the battle-plain. In the
course of time, as the frame of society became more settled, the arts of
peace smoothed the stern fierceness of chivalry, and the page was the
honorary servant of the lord or his lady, in the proud ceremonial of
nobility, and never mixed in war. He continued to be a person of gentle
birth, and his dress was splendid; circumstances extremely favourable to
that singular state of manners which permitted a woman, without any loss
of her good name, to follow him she admired in the disguise of a gentle
page, and gradually to win his affections by the deep devotion of her
love. Poetry may have adorned such instances of passion, for the subject
is full of interest and pathos; but the poets in the best days of English
verse so frequently copied from the world around them, that we cannot but
believe they drew also in this instance from nature. This form of manners
was romantic; but it certainly was not chivalric: for in pure days of
chivalry the knights, and not the damsels, were the wooers.--But every
thing was changed or degraded.
The general state of the page in the last days of chivalry may be
collected from one of the dramas of Ben Jonson, where Lovel, a complete
gentleman, a soldier, and a scholar, is desirous to take as his page the
son of Lord Frampul, who was disguised as the host of the Light Heart Inn
at Barnet:
"_Lov._ A fine child!
You will not part with him, mine host?
"_Host._ Who told you
I would not.
"_Lov._ I but ask you.
"_Host._ And I answer,
To whom? for what?
"_Lov._ To me, to be my page.
"_Host._ I know no mischief yet the child hath done,
To deserve such a destiny.
"_Lov._ Why?
"_Host._ * * * * * *
Trust me I had rather
Take a fair halter, wash my hands, and hang him
Myself, make a clean riddance of him, than----
"_Lov._ What?
"_Host._ Than damn him to that desperate course of life.
"_Lov._ Call you that desperate, which by a line
Of institution, from our ancestors,
Hath been derived down to us, and received
In a succession, for the noblest way
Of breeding up our youth, in letters, arms,
Fair mien, discourses, civil exercise,
And all the blazon of a gentleman?
Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence,
To move his body gracefuller, to speak
His language purer, or to tune his mind
Or manners, more to the harmony of nature,
Than in these nurseries of nobility?
"_Host._ Ay that was when the nursery's self was noble.
And only virtue made it, not the market,
That titles were not vented at the drum,
Or common outcry, goodness gave the greatness,
And greatness worship: every house became
An academy of honour, and those parts
We see departed, in the practice now,
Quite from the institution."[132]
Something must be abated from this censure, for the speaker was a
disappointed man, and therefore querulous. But whatever might have been
the education of the page, the character itself was lost in the political
convulsions in the time of Charles I. So many of the old institutions of
England were then destroyed, that we need not be surprised that the one
should not escape, which had long survived its purpose and occasion. At
the restoration of the monarchy the ancient court-ceremonial was revived,
and therefore the page was a royal officer: but he is scarcely ever
mentioned in the subsequent private history of the country; and his duties
at the court were altogether personal though gentilitial, and had no
reference at all to military affairs.
The military features of chivalry had been rudely marred in the wars
between the houses of York and Lancaster, and by the days of James I. not
a lineament remained. The graceful sports of chivalry had been sustained
by the bold and vigorous Henry VIII., and romance could not but be
pleasing to a maiden queen. With Prince Henry the tournament died.
Mightier questions than those which knighthood could resolve were before
the world; and there was nothing in the bearing of the friends of Charles
I., misnamed Cavaliers, to which the character of chivalric can be
applied.
[Sidenote: Important change in knighthood by parliament of Charles I.]
The reign of Charles I. is, however, in one respect a memorable epoch in
the history of English knighthood. By the ancient constitution, as we saw
in the last chapter, the King had the power of compelling his vassals to
be knighted. In all ages, however, whether of the high power, or the
decline of chivalry, many persons, considering the duties and charges of
the honour, had been wont to commute it by a fine; and this custom had
often whetted the avarice of monarchs. Elizabeth was the last of our
sovereigns who enriched her exchequer by receiving these commutations.
Charles I. endeavoured to augment his revenue by similar means; but the
spirit of the age was hostile to his claim; and, certainly, as the
military system had changed, it was absurd and unjust that the burden
should survive the benefit of the ancient system. The people triumphed,
and Charles conceded a prerogative which was only known as a means of
public oppression. By a statute passed in the sixteenth year of his reign
(cap. 20.) the right of compelling men to receive knighthood was
abolished.
[Sidenote: Application of chivalric honours to men of civil station.]
One branch of English chivalry, namely, knighthood as connected with
property, knighthood as the external symbol of feudalism, was thus put an
end to. But knighthood still continued as an honourable distinction. In
this, the most interesting part of the subject, a great change had taken
place: but it is impossible to mark the exact time of its occurring. We
only know that even in the time of the Lancastrian princes knights could
not, of their own free will, add new members to the order of chivalry, and
that link of honourable equality, which used to bind all men of gentle
birth in one state, was broken. The whole power of creating knights was
usurped by the crown. The first step, which apparently led to this
usurpation, was made even in the purest age of chivalry, the reign of our
Edward III.: for at that time civil merit was rewarded by chivalric
distinctions. The judges of the courts of law were dignified with
knighthood.[133]
In the subsequent reigns of the Lancastrian princes, it seems to have been
regarded as a well established custom, that men who deserved highly of the
commonwealth should be honoured with some title above the state of a
simple gentleman. Chivalry, as the great fountain of honour, was again
resorted to, and the title of esquire was drawn forth. It was then applied
to sheriffs of counties, serjeants-at-law, and other men of station; and
afterwards courtesy added it to the names of the eldest sons of peers, of
knights, and many others. The honour, like the rest of the chivalric
honours, was personal, not hereditary, and in strictness could be enjoyed
only by virtue of creation, or as a dignity appurtenant to an office. The
mode of creation was copied from the investiture of a knight. The person
who was to be admitted into the squirehood of the country knelt before his
sovereign, who, placing a silver collar of scollop shells mixed with esses
round his neck, cried, "Arise, Sir Esquire, and may God make thee a good
man."[134]
[Sidenote: Knights made in the field.]
This right of conferring chivalric honours upon persons of civil station
was exercised by the sovereigns only, and it furnished the pretence of
their assuming the right of judging upon what occasions it should be
conferred on men whose profession was war. The custom of creating knights
in the field of battle by the general in command prevailed in England so
late as the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Robert, the second son of Sir Henry
Sidney, and brother of the famous Sir Philip, was knighted by Leicester,
for his chivalric deportment at the battle of Zutphen. Essex, while
commanding in Spain and Ireland, distributed chivalric honours with such
profusion, that the Queen, who was always jealous of her power, made his
conduct, on this subject, the matter of one of the articles of accusation
against him.
[Sidenote: Carpet knights.]
Knighthood, when conferred in the field, was ever held as a very
honourable distinction. When men, who were undistinguished by valour[135],
were raised to chivalric rank, they were called Carpet Knights, as we are
taught by the old ceremonials; and society always used the expression
contemptuously, as we learn from our dramatists, who are as good witnesses
for the customs of their times as romancers had been for those of earlier
days. "He is knight, dubbed with unhacked rapier, and on carpet
consideration," is the character which Sir Toby Belch gives of his friend
Sir Andrew Aguecheek. In a passage of surpassing beauty Fletcher has
described the characters of the chivalric and the carpet knight.
"Oh the brave dames
Of warlike Genoa! They had eyes to see
The inward man, and only from his worth,
Courage, and conquests, the blind archer knew
To head his shafts, or light his quenched torch;
They were proof against him else! No carpet knight
That spent his youth in groves or pleasant bowers,
Or stretching on a couch his lazy limbs,
Sung to his lute such soft and pleasing notes
As Ovid nor Anacreon ever knew,
Could work on them, nor once bewitch'd their sense;
Though he came so perfum'd, as he had robb'd
Sabea or Arabia of their wealth,
And stor'd it in one suit."[136]
The order of knighthood was indeed wretchedly degraded in the days of
James I., if we can allow any truth to the remarks of Osborne. "At this
time the honour of knighthood, which antiquity reserved sacred, as the
cheapest and readiest jewel to present virtue with, was promiscuously laid
on any head belonging to the yeomanry (made addle through pride, and a
contempt of their ancestors' pedigree,) that had but a court friend, or
money to purchase the favour of the meanest, able to bring him into an
outward room when the King, the fountain of honour, came down, and was
uninterrupted by other business; in which case, it was then usual for him
to grant a commission for the chamberlain, or some other lord to do it."
[Sidenote: Knights of the Bath.]
The carpet, or ordinary knights, must not be confounded with knights of
the Bath, though both classes were knights of peace. Knights of the Bath
had always precedence of knights-bachelors, without any regard to dates of
creation. The knights of the Bath were men of rank and station, or
distinguished for military qualities. They were created by our sovereign
at their coronations, or on other great occasions, from the time of Henry
V., when I last adverted to the subject, to so late a period as the reign
of Charles II., who before he was crowned created sixty-eight knights of
the Bath. When queens were sovereigns a commission was granted to a
nobleman to create knights; and the commission of Queen Elizabeth to the
Earl of Arundel is so rich in thought, and dignified in style, that I
cannot resist the pleasure of transcribing it. After the usual
salutations, "To all men," the Queen declares as follows: "Whereas, we,
minding to proceed to the solemnity of our coronation in such and like
honourable sort as in the coronation of our progenitors hath been
accustomed, and as to our estate and dignity appertaineth, have, both for
the more adornment of the feast of our said coronation, and for the
nobility of blood, good service, and other good qualities, of many our
servants and other subjects, resolved to call certain of them to the order
of knighthood. We let you wete, that for the special trust and confidence
which we have reposed in our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin
and counsellor, Henry Earl of Arundel, Lord Steward of our household, we
have appointed, and by these presents do appoint and authorise him for us,
and in our name, and by our authority, not only to do and exercise every
thing and things to be done and exercised in our behalf, for the full
making of those knights of the Bath, whom we have caused to be specially
called for that purpose, but also to make and ordain such and so many
other persons knights, within the time of two days next ensuing the date
hereof, as by us shall be named, or by himself shall be thought meet, so
that he exceed not in the whole the number of thirty," &c.[137]
[Sidenote: Full account of the ancient ceremonies of creating them.]
The ceremonies of creating those knights furnishes us with such an
accurate picture of the manners of our ancestors, that, though I have
touched upon the subject before, I shall, without apology, describe its
minutest features. When an esquire came to court to receive the order of
knighthood, in time of peace, after the custom of England, he was
worshipfully received by the officers of the court, the steward, or
chamberlain, if they were at the palace, or else by the marshals and
ushers. Two esquires, sage, and well nourished in courtesy, and expert in
deeds of knighthood, were assigned as his teachers and governors. If he
arrived in the morning, he was to serve the King with water at dinner, or
else to place a dish of the first course upon the table; and this was his
farewell to his personal duties of esquire. His governors then led him to
his chamber, where he remained alone till the evening, when they sent a
barber to him, who prepared his bath. Water was not yet put into it, but
the esquire was, who sat, wrapped in white cloths and mantles, while his
beard was shaved, and his head rounded. All this being done, the governors
went to the King, and said to him, "Most mighty Prince, our Sovereign
Lord, it waxeth nigh unto the even, and our master is ready in the bath."
The King then commanded his chamberlain to take into the chamber of him
who was to be made knight the prowest and wisest knights about the court,
in order that they might instruct and counsel the esquire, touching the
order of knighthood.
The chamberlain, preceded by minstrels singing and dancing, and
accompanied by the chosen cavaliers, went to the door of the esquire's
room. When the governors heard the sound of minstrelsy, they stripped
their master, and left him naked in the bath. The music ceased, and the
chamberlain and his knights entered the room. After paying much worship
and courtesy to each other, he to whom precedence was allowed advanced to
the bath, and, kneeling down, whispered these words in the ear of the
esquire: "Right dear brother, may this order bring great honour and
worship unto you; and I pray that Almighty God may give you the praise of
all knighthood. Lo! this is the order: Be ye strong in the faith of Holy
Church, relieve widows and oppressed maidens, give every one his own, and,
above all things, love and dread God. Superior to all other earthly
objects, love the King, thy sovereign lord; him and his right defend unto
thy power, and put him in worship."
When the esquire was thus advised, the knight-counsellor took in his hand
water from the bath, and threw it gently on the shoulder of his young
friend. The other knights counselled and bathed him in a similar manner,
and then, with the first knight, left the chamber. The governors took the
esquire out of the bath, and laid him on a bed "to dry." When the process
of drying was finished, he was taken out of bed, and clothed warmly; and
there was thrown over him a cope of black russet, with long sleeves, and
the hood, like that of a hermit, sewn on the cope. The barber had the bath
for his fee, and the operation of shaving was paid for separately,
agreeably to the estate of the esquire; and if there was any dispute about
the sum, the King's Majesty's judgment was looked to.
A joyous company of knights, with squires dancing, and minstrels singing,
entered the room, and with light pace and gay deportment led their friend
into the chapel. There they were refreshed with wines, spices, and
sweatmeats; and the knights-counsellors, being thanked by the esquire for
their great labour and worship, departed. The governors, the officers of
arms, and the waits, remained in the chapel with the esquire. It was his
duty to pass the night in prayer to Almighty God that he might worthily
receive the honour, and discharge all the offices of knighthood. A taper
of wax was always burning before him.
When the morning dawned a priest entered the chapel, and the more solemn
duties of religion were proceeded with. Shriving, matins, the mass, and
the communion, were performed, the esquire, during the principal
ceremonies of the sacrament, holding the taper in his hand, with a penny
stuck in the wax, near the light; and, finally, he offered them to the
priest, the taper to the honour of God, and the penny to the honour of him
that should make him a knight. His governors then took him from the
chapel, and laid him in his bed, divesting him of his hermit's weeds.
After some time for refreshment had been allowed him, the governors went
to the King, and said, "Most victorious Prince, our master shall awake
when it so pleaseth Your Majesty." The King accordingly commanded the
party of knights, esquires, and minstrels, to go into the chamber of the
esquire, and awake him. They went, and said to him, "Sir, good day: it is
time to arise." The governors raised him in his bed: the most worthy and
the most sage knight presented him his shirt, the next cavalier in
consideration gave him his breeches, the third his doublet, the fourth his
robe of red taffata, lined with white sarcenet; and, when he was thus
partially clothed, two others lifted him out of bed. Two donned his hose,
which were of black silk, or of black cloth, with soles of leather, two
others buttoned his sleeves, another bound round him a girdle of plain
white leather, an inch broad. The combing of the head, and putting on the
coif, were each performed by a knight. Another gentle cavalier also gave
him his mantle of red tartayn, crossed with white on the breast, and
fastened with a lace of white silk, from which depended a pair of white
gloves. How his white-feathered white hat got upon his head I know not;
for the grave ceremonial is altogether silent about the matter.
The dressing being concluded, the esquire was placed on horseback, and led
by the knights into the hall of the King, preceded by a young gentle
esquire, also on horseback, and carrying by its point a sword, in a white
scabbard, with gilt spurs hanging upon the cross hilt. The marshal of
England assisted the candidate for knighthood to alight, and led him into
the hall, where he sat at the head of the second table, surrounded by his
counselling knights, his sword-bearer, and governors. The King, on
entering the hall, demanded the sword and the spurs, and they were given
to him by the chamberlain. The King gave the right spur to one of the
noblest peers about him, commanding that lord to place it on the right
heel of the esquire. The lord knelt on one knee, and, taking the esquire
by the right leg, put the foot upon his knee, and not only affixed the
spur to the heel, but made a cross upon the knee of the esquire, and
kissed it. Another lord attached the left spur to the left foot with
similar ceremonies. The King then, out of the meekness of his high might,
girt the sword round the esquire. The esquire raised his arms, and the
King, throwing his arms round the neck of the esquire, smote the esquire
on the shoulder with his right hand, kissing him at the same time, and
saying, "Be ye a good knight."
The new-made knight was then conducted by his counselling knights into the
chapel, upon whose high altar he laid his sword, offering it to God and
Holy Church, m
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