CHAPTER V.

KNIGHTS-ERRANT.

In the British Museum are two volumes containing a rather large number of

illuminated pictures which have been cut out of MSS., chiefly of the early

fourteenth century, by some collector who did not understand how much more

valuable they would have been, even as pictures, if left each by itself in

the appropriate setting of its black letter page, than when pasted

half-a-dozen together in a scrap-book. That they are severed from the

letterpress which they were intended to illustrate is of the less

importance, because they seem all to be illustrations of scenes in

romances, and it is not difficult to one who is well versed in those early

writings either to identify the subjects or to invent histories for them.

Each isolated picture affords a subject in which an expert, turning the

book over and explaining it to an amateur, would find material for a

little lecture on mediæval art and architecture, costume, and manners.

In presenting to the reader the subjects which illustrate this chapter, we

find ourselves placed by circumstances in the position of being obliged to

treat them like those scrap-book pictures of which we have spoken, viz.,

as isolated pictures, illustrating generally our subject of the Knights of

the Middle Ages, needing each its independent explanation.

The first subject represents a scene from some romance, in which the good

knight, attended by his squire, is guided by a damsel on some adventure.

As in the scene which we find in Caxton's "Prince Arthur": "And the good

knight, Sir Galahad, rode so long, till that he came that night to the

castle of Carberecke; and it befel him that he was benighted in an

hermitage. And when they were at rest there came a gentlewoman knocking

at the door, and called Sir Galahad, and so the hermit came to the door to

ask what she would. Then she called the hermit, Sir Ulfric, 'I am a

gentlewoman that would speak with the knight that is with you.' Then the

good man awaked Sir Galahad, and bade him rise and speak 'with a

gentlewoman which seemeth hath great need of you.' Then Sir Galahad went

to her, and asked what she would. 'Sir Galahad,' said she, 'I will that

you arm you and mount upon your horse and follow me, for I will show you

within these three days the highest adventure that ever knight saw.' Anon,

Sir Galahad armed him, and took his horse and commended him to God, and

bade the gentlewoman go, and he would follow her there as she liked. So

the damsel rode as fast as her palfrey might gallop till that she came to

the sea."

[Illustration: _Lady, Knight, and Squire._]

Here then we see the lady ambling through the forest, and she rides as

ladies rode in the middle ages, and as they still ride, like female

centaurs, in the Sandwich Islands. She turns easily in her saddle, though

going at a good pace, to carry on an animated conversation with the

knight. He, it will be seen, is in hauberk and hood of banded mail, with

the curious ornaments called _ailettes_--little wings--at his shoulders.

He seems to have _genouillières_--knee-pieces of plate; but it is doubtful

whether he has also plate armour about the leg, or whether the artist has

omitted the lines which would indicate that the legs were, as is more

probably the case, also protected by banded mail. He wears the prick spur;

and his body-armour is protected from sun and rain by the surcoat. Behind

him prances his squire. The reader will not fail to notice the character

which the artist has thrown into his attitude and the expression of his

features. It will be seen that he is not armed, but wears the ordinary

civil costume, with a hood and hat; he carries his master's spear, and the

shield is suspended at his back by its guige or strap; its hollow shape

and the rampant lion emblazoned on it will not be overlooked.

Romance writers are sometimes accused of forgetting that their heroes are

human, and need to eat and drink and sleep. But this is hardly true of the

old romancers, who, in relating knightly adventures, did not draw upon

their imagination, but described the things which were continually

happening about them; and the illuminators in illustrating the romances

drew from the life--the life of their own day--and this it is which makes

their pictures so naive and truthful in spite of their artistic defects,

and so valuable as historical authorities. In the engraving above is a

subject which would hardly have occurred to modern romancer or

illustrator. The crowd of tents tells us that the scene is cast in the

"tented field," either of real war or of the mimic war of some great

tournament. The combat of the day is over. The modern romancer would have

dropped the curtain for the day, to be drawn up again next morning when

the trumpets of the heralds called the combatants once more to the field.

Our mediæval illuminator has given us a charming episode in the story. He

has followed the good knight to his pavilion pitched in the meadow hard

by. The knight has doffed his armour, and taken his bath, and put on his

robes of peace, and heard vespers, and gone to supper. The lighted candles

show that it is getting dusk. It is only by an artistic license that the

curtains of the tent are drawn aside to display the whole interior; in

reality they were close drawn; these curtains are striped of alternate

breadths of gay colours--gold and red and green and blue. Any one who has

seen how picturesque a common bell tent, pitched on the lawn, looks from

the outside, when one has been tempted by a fine summer evening to stay

out late and "have candles," will be able to perceive how picturesque the

striped curtains of this pavilion would be, how eminently picturesque the

group of such pavilions here indicated, with the foliage of trees overhead

and the grey walls and towers of a mediæval town in the background, with

the stars coming out one by one among the turrets and spires sharply

defined against the fading sky.

[Illustration: _Knight at Supper._]

The knight, like a good chevalier and humane master, has first seen his

war-horse groomed and fed. And what a sure evidence that the picture is

from the life is this introduction of the noble animal sharing the shelter

of the tent of his master, who waits for supper to be served. The

furniture of the table is worth looking at--the ample white table-cloth,

though the table is, doubtless, only a board on trestles; and the two

candlesticks of massive and elegant shape, show that the candlesticks now

called altar-candlesticks are only of the ordinary domestic mediæval type,

obsolete now in domestic use, but still retained, like so many other

ancient fashions, in ecclesiastical use. There, too, are the wine flagon

and cup, and the salt between them; the knife is at the knight's right

hand. We almost expect to see the squire of the last picture enter from

behind, bearing aloft in both hands a fat capon on an ample pewter

platter.

The little subject which is next engraved will enable us to introduce from

the Romance of Prince Arthur a description of an adventure and a graphic

account of the different turns and incidents of a single combat, told in

language which is rich in picturesque obsolete words. "And so they rode

forth a great while till they came to the borders of that country, and

there they found a full fair village, with a strong bridge like a

fortress.[377] And when Sir Launcelot and they were at the bridge, there

start forth before them many gentlemen and yeomen, which said, 'Fair lord,

ye may not pass over this bridge and this fortress but one of you at once,

therefore choose which of you shall enter within this bridge first.' Then

Sir Launcelot proffered himself first to enter within this bridge. 'Sir,'

said Sir La Cote Male Taile, 'I beseech you let me enter first within this

fortress, and if I speed well I will send for you, and if it happen that I

be slain there it goeth; and if so be that I am taken prisoner then may ye

come and rescue me.' 'I am loath,' said Sir Launcelot, 'to let you take

this passage.' 'Sir,' said he, 'I pray you let me put my body in this

adventure.' 'Now go your way,' said Sir Launcelot, 'and God be your

speed.' So he entered, and anon there met with him two brethren, the one

hight Sir Pleine de Force and that other hight Sir Pleine de Amours; and

anon they met with Sir La Cote Male Taile, and first Sir La Cote Male

Taile smote down Sir Pleine de Force, and soon after he smote down Sir

Pleine de Amours; and then they dressed themselves to their shields and

swords, and so they bade Sir La Cote Male Taile alight, and so he did, and

there was dashing and foining with swords. And so they began full hard to

assay Sir La Cote Male Taile, and many great wounds they gave him upon his

head and upon his breast and upon his shoulders. And as he might ever

among he gave sad strokes again. And then the two brethren traced and

traversed for to be on both hands of Sir La Cote Male Taile. But by fine

force and knightly prowess he got them afore him. And so then when he felt

himself so wounded he doubled his strokes, and gave them so many wounds

that he felled them to the earth, and would have slain them had they not

yielded them. And right so Sir La Cote Male Taile took the best horse that

there was of them two, and so rode forth his way to that other fortress

and bridge, and there he met with the third brother, whose name was Sir

Plenorius, a full noble knight, and there they justed together, and either

smote other down, horse and man, to the earth. And then they two avoided

their horses and dressed their shields and drew their swords and gave many

sad strokes, and one while the one knight was afore on the bridge and

another while the other. And thus they fought two hours and more and never

rested. Then Sir La Cote Male Taile sunk down upon the earth, for what for

wounds and what for blood he might not stand. Then the other knight had

pity of him, and said, 'Fair young knight, dismay you not, for if ye had

been fresh when ye met with me, as I was, I know well I should not have

endured so long as ye have done, and therefore for your noble deeds and

valiantness I shall show you great kindness and gentleness in all that

ever I may.' And forthwith the noble knight, Sir Plenorius, took him up in

his arms and led him into his tower. And then he commended him the more

and made him for to search him and for to stop his bleeding wounds. 'Sir,'

said Sir La Cote Male Taile, 'withdraw you from me, and hie you to yonder

bridge again, for there will meet you another manner knight than ever I

was.' Then Sir Plenorius gat his horse and came with a great spear in his

hand galloping as the hurl wind had borne him towards Sir Launcelot, and

then they began to feutre[378] their spears, and came together like

thunder, and smote either other so mightily that their horses fell down

under them; and then they avoided their horses and drew out their swords,

and like two bulls they lashed together with great strokes and foins; but

ever Sir Launcelot recovered ground upon him, and Sir Plenorius traced to

have from about him, and Sir Launcelot would not suffer that, but bore him

backer and backer, till he came nigh the gate tower, and then said Sir

Launcelot, 'I know thee well for a good knight, but wot thou well thy life

and death is in my hands, and therefore yield thou to me and thy

prisoners.' The other answered not a word, but struck mightily upon Sir

Launcelot's helm that fire sprang out of his eyes; then Sir Launcelot

doubled his strokes so thick and smote at him so mightily that he made him

to kneel upon his knees, and therewith Sir Launcelot lept upon him, and

pulled him down grovelling; then Sir Plenorius yielded him and his tower

and all his prisoners at his will, and Sir Launcelot received him and took

his troth." We must tell briefly the chivalrous sequel. Sir Launcelot

offered to Sir La Cote Male Taile all the possessions of the conquered

knight, but he refused to receive them, and begged Sir Launcelot to let

Sir Plenorius retain his livelihood on condition he would be King Arthur's

knight,--"'Full well,' said Sir Launcelot, 'so that he will come to the

court of King Arthur and become his man and his three brethren. And as for

you, Sir Plenorius, I will undertake, at the next feast, so there be a

place void, that ye shall be Knight of the Round Table.' Then Sir

Launcelot and Sir La Cote Male Taile rested them there, and then they had

merry cheer and good rest and many good games, and there were many fair

ladies." In the woodcut we see Sir La Cote Male Taile, who has just

overthrown Sir Pleine de Force at the foot of the bridge, and the

gentlemen and yeomen are looking on out of the windows and over the

battlements of the gate tower.

[Illustration: _Defending the Bridge._]

The illuminators are never tired of representing battles and sieges; and

the general impression which we gather from them is that a mediæval combat

must have presented to the lookers-on a confused _melée_ of rushing horses

and armoured men in violent action, with a forest of weapons

overhead--great swords, and falchions, and axes, and spears, with pennons

fluttering aloft here and there in the breeze of the combat. We almost

fancy we can see the dust caused by the prancing horses, and hear the

clash of weapons and the hoarse war-cries, and sometimes can almost hear

the shriek which bursts from the maddened horse, or the groan of the man

who is wounded and helpless under the trampling hoofs. The woodcut

introduced represents such a scene in a very spirited way. But it is

noticeable among a hundred similar scenes for one incident, which is very

unusual, and which gives us a glimpse of another aspect of mediæval war.

It will be seen that the combat is taking place outside a castle or

fortified town; and that, on a sudden, in the confusion of the combat, a

side gate has been opened, and the bridge lowered, and a solid column of

men-at-arms, on foot, is marching in military array across the bridge, in

order to turn the flank of the assailant chivalry. We do not happen to

know a representation of this early age of anything so thoroughly

soldierly in its aspect as this sally. The incident itself indicates

something more like regular war than the usual confused mingling of

knights so well represented on the left side of the picture. The fact of

men-at-arms, armed _cap-a-pied_, acting on foot, is not very usual at

this period; their unmistakable military order, as they march two and two

with shields held in the same attitude and spears sloped at the same

angle, speaks of accurate drill. The armorial bearings on the shield of

one of the foremost rank perhaps point out the officer in command.

[Illustration: _A Sally across the Drawbridge._]

It seems to be commonly assumed that the soldiers of the Middle Ages had

little, if anything, like our modern drill and tactics; that the men were

simply put into the field in masses, according to some rude initial plan

of the general, but that after the first charge the battle broke up into a

series of chance-medley combats, in which the leaders took a personal

share; and that the only further piece of generalship consisted in

bringing up a body of reserve to strengthen a corps which was giving

ground, or to throw an overwhelming force upon some corps of the enemy

which seemed to waver.

It is true that we find very little information about the mediæval drill

or tactics, but it is very possible that there was more of both than is

commonly supposed. Any man whose duty it was to marshal and handle a body

of troops would very soon, even if left to his own wit, invent enough of

drill to enable him to move his men about from place to place, and to put

them into the different formations necessary to enable them effectively to

act on the offensive or defensive under different circumstances. A leader

whose duty it was to command several bodies of troops would invent the

elements of tactics, enough to enable him to combine them in a general

plan of battle, and to take advantage of the different turns of the fight.

Experience would rapidly ripen the knowledge of military men, and of

experience they had only too much. It is true that the armies of mediæval

England consisted chiefly of levies of men who were not professional

soldiers, and the officers and commanders were marked out for leadership

by their territorial possessions, not by their military skill. But the men

were not unaccustomed to their weapons, and were occasionally mustered for

feudal display; and the country gentlemen who officered them were trained

to military exercises as a regular part of their education, and, we may

assume, to so much of military skill as was necessary to fulfil their part

as knights. Then there were mercenary captains, who by continuous devotion

to war acquired great knowledge and experience in all military affairs;

and the men who had to do with them, either as friends or foes, learnt

from them. We need only glance down the line of our kings to find

abundance of great captains among them--William the Conqueror, and

Stephen, and Richard I., and Edward I. and III., and Henry IV. and V., and

Edward IV., and Richard III. And military skill equal to the direction of

armies was no less common among the nobility; and ability to take command

of his own contingent was expected of every one who held his lands on

condition of being always ready and able to follow his lord's banner to

the field.

In the Saxon days the strength of the army seems to have consisted of

footmen, and their formation was generally in close and deep ranks, who,

joining their shoulders together, formed an impenetrable defence; wielding

long heavy swords and battle-axes, they made a terrible assault. Some

insight into the tactics of the age is given by William of Malmesbury's

assertion that at Hastings the Normans made a feigned flight, which drew

the Saxons from their close array, and then turning upon them, took them

at advantage; and repeated this manoeuvre more than once at the word of

command.

The strength of the Norman armies, on the other hand, consisted of knights

and mounted men-at-arms. The military engines were placed in front, and

commenced the engagement with their missiles; the archers and slingers

were placed on the wings. The crowd of half-armed footmen usually formed

the first line; the mounted troops were drawn up behind them in three

lines, whose successive charges formed the main attack of the engagement.

Occasionally, however, dismounted men-at-arms seem to have been used by

some skilful generals with great effect. In several of the battles of

Stephen's reign, this unusual mode appears to have been followed, under

the influence of the foreign mercenary captains in the king's pay.

Generals took pains to secure any possible advantage from the nature of

the ground, and it follows that the plan of the battle must have turned

sometimes on the defence or seizure of some commanding point which formed

the key of the position. Ambuscades were a favourite device of which we

not unfrequently read, and night surprises were equally common. We read

also occasionally of stratagems, especially in the capture of fortresses,

which savour rather of romance than of the stem realities of war. In

short, perhaps the warfare of that day was not so very inferior in

military skill to that of our own times as some suppose. In our last war

the charge at Balaklava was as chivalrous a deed as ever was done in the

Middle Ages, and Inkerman a fight of heroes; but neither of them displayed

more military science than was displayed by the Norman chivalry who

charged at Hastings, or the Saxon billmen whose sturdy courage all but won

the fatal day.

Scenes and Characters of the Middle Ages Third Edition · 第 5 / 13 章