as a sign of his intention to compete in this great game of chivalry.
If any stain lay on his knighthood, a lady, by touching the suspended
shield with a wand, could debar him from a share in the jousting. And
if, when he had entered the lists he was rude to a lady, or broke in
any way the etiquette of the tilt yard, he was beaten from the lists
with the ashwood lances of the knights.
[Illustration: The Knight.]
The simple joust was the shock of two knights, who galloped with
leveled spears at each other, aiming at breast or head, with the
object either of unhorsing the antagonist, or, if he sat his charger
well, of splintering the lance upon his helmet or his shield. The
mellay hurled together, at the dropping of the prince's baton, two
parties of knights, who hacked away at each other with ax and mace and
sword, often gashing limbs and breaking bones in the wild excitement
of the fray. Bright eyes glanced from the surrounding galleries upon
the brutal sport; and when the victor, with broken plume, and battered
armor, dragged his weary limbs to the footstool of the beauty who
presided as Queen over the festival, her white hands decorated him
with the meed of his achievements.
The Normans probably dined at nine in the morning. When they rose they
took a light meal; and ate something also after their day's work,
immediately before going to bed. Goose and garlic formed a favorite
dish. Their cookery was more elaborate, and, in comparison, more
delicate, than the preparations for an English feed; but the character
for temperance, which they brought with them from the Continent, soon
vanished.
The poorer classes hardly ever ate flesh, living principally on bread,
butter, and cheese,--a social fact which seems to underlie that usage
of our tongue by which the living animals in field or stall bore
English names--ox, sheep, calf, pig, deer; while their flesh, promoted
to Norman dishes, rejoiced in names of French origin--beef, mutton,
veal, pork, venison. Round cakes, piously marked with a cross, piled
the tables, on which pastry of various kinds also appeared. In good
houses cups of glass held the wine, which was borne from the cellar
below in jugs.
Squatted around the door or on the stair leading to the Norman dining
hall, was a crowd of beggars or lickers, who grew so insolent in the
days of Rufus, that ushers, armed with rods, were posted outside to
beat back the noisy throng, who thought little of snatching the dishes
as the cooks carried them to table!
The juggler, who under the Normans filled the place of the English
gleeman, tumbled, sang, and balanced knives in the hall; or out in the
bailey of an afternoon displayed the acquirements of his trained
monkey or bear. The fool, too, clad in colored patchwork, cracked his
ribald jokes and shook his cap and bells at the elbow of roaring
barons, when the board was spread and the circles of the wine began.
While knights hunted in the greenwood or tilted in the lists, and
jugglers tumbled in the noisy hall, the monk in the quiet scriptorium
compiled chronicles of passing events, copied valuable manuscripts,
and painted rich borders and brilliant initials on every page. These
illuminations form a valuable set of materials for our pictures of
life in the Middle Ages.
Monasteries served many useful purposes at the time of which I write.
Besides their manifest value as centers of study and literary work,
they gave alms to the poor, a supper and a bed to travelers; their
tenants were better off and better treated than the tenants of the
nobles; the monks could store grain, grow apples, and cultivate their
flower beds with little risk of injury from war, because they had
spiritual thunders at their call, which awed even the most reckless of
the soldiery into a respect for sacred property.
Splendid structures those monasteries generally were, since that vivid
taste for architecture which the Norman possessed in a high degree,
and which could not find room for its display in the naked strength of
the solid keep, lavished its entire energy and grace upon buildings
lying in the safe shadow of the Cross. Nor was architectural taste the
only reason for their magnificence. Since they were nearly all erected
as offerings to Heaven, the religion of the age impelled the pious
builders to spare no cost in decorating the exterior with fretwork and
sculpture of Caen stone, the interior with gilded cornices and windows
of painted glass.
As schools, too, the monasteries did no trifling service to society
in the Middle Ages. In addition to their influence as great centers of
learning, English law had enjoined every mass priest to keep a school
in his parish church, where all the young committed to his care might
be instructed. This custom continued long after the Norman Conquest.
In the Trinity College Psalter we have a picture of a Norman school,
where the pupils sit in a circular row around the master as he
lectures to them from a long roll of manuscript. Two writers sit by
the desk, busy with copies resembling that which the teacher holds.
The youth of the middle classes, destined for the cloister or the
merchant's stall, chiefly thronged these schools. The aristocracy
cared little for book-learning. Very few indeed of the barons could
read or write. But all could ride, fence, tilt, play, and carve
extremely well; for to these accomplishments many years of pagehood
and squirehood were given.
* * * * *
The foregoing description of manners and customs during the age of
feudalism has been adapted from a popular "History of England," by W.
F. Collier. A much fuller description may be found in Knight's
"History of England," and in Green's "Short History of the English
People." The period described was in many respects the most romantic
in the history of the world, and many delightful and instructive books
have been written concerning it. Read Scott's "Ivanhoe" and "The
Talisman." Reference may also be had to Pauli's "Pictures of Old
England," and Jusserand's "English Wayfaring Life in the Middle Ages."
THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST.
[Illustration: Elizabeth Barrett Browning.]
"So the dreams depart,
So the fading phantoms flee,
And the sharp reality
Now must act its part."
--_Westwood's "Beads from a Rosary."_
I.
Little Ellie sits alone
'Mid the beeches of a meadow,
By a stream side on the grass,
And the trees are showering down
Doubles of their leaves in shadow,
On her shining hair and face.
II.
She has thrown her bonnet by,
And her feet she has been dipping
In the shallow water's flow;
Now she holds them nakedly
In her hands, all sleek and dripping,
While she rocketh to and fro.
III.
Little Ellie sits alone,
And the smile she softly uses
Fills the silence like a speech,
While she thinks what shall be done,
And the sweetest pleasure chooses
For her future within reach.
IV.
Little Ellie in her smile
Chooses, "I will have a lover,
Riding on a steed of steeds:
He shall love me without guile,
And to _him_ I will discover
The swan's nest among the reeds.
V.
"And the steed shall be red roan,
And the lover shall be noble,
With an eye that takes the breath.
And the lute he plays upon
Shall strike ladies into trouble,
As his sword strikes men to death.
VI.
"And the steed it shall be shod
All in silver, housed in azure;
And the mane shall swim the wind;
And the hoofs along the sod
Shall flash onward, and keep measure,
Till the shepherds look behind.
VII.
"But my lover will not prize
All the glory that he rides in,
When he gazes in my face.
He will say, 'O Love, thine eyes
Build the shrine my soul abides in,
And I kneel here for thy grace!'
VIII.
"Then, aye, then he shall kneel low,
With the red-roan steed anear him,
Which shall seem to understand,
Till I answer, 'Rise and go!
For the world must love and fear him
Whom I gift with heart and hand.'
IX.
"Then he will arise so pale,
I shall feel my own lips tremble
With a _yes_ I must not say:
Nathless maiden brave, 'Farewell,'
I will utter, and dissemble--
'Light to-morrow with to-day!'
X.
"Then he'll ride among the hills
To the wide world past the river,
There to put away all wrong,
To make straight distorted wills,
And to empty the broad quiver
Which the wicked bear along.
XI.
"Three times shall a young foot page
Swim the stream, and climb the mountain,
And kneel down beside my feet:
'Lo! my master sends this gage,
Lady, for thy pity's counting.
What wilt thou exchange for it?'
XII.
"And the first time I will send
A white rosebud for a guerdon--
And the second time, a glove;
But the third time--I may bend
From my pride, and answer--'Pardon,
If he comes to take my love.'
XIII.
"Then the young foot page will run--
Then my lover will ride faster,
Till he kneeleth at my knee:
'I am a duke's eldest son!
Thousand serfs do call me master,--
But, O Love, I love but _thee_!'"...
XIV.
Little Ellie, with her smile
Not yet ended, rose up gayly,
Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe,
And went homeward, round a mile,
Just to see, as she did daily,
What more eggs were with the two.
XV.
Pushing through the elm-tree copse,
Winding up the stream, light-hearted,
Where the osier pathway leads,
Past the boughs she stoops, and stops.
Lo, the wild swan had deserted,
And a rat had gnawed the reeds!
XVI.
Ellie went home sad and slow.
If she found the lover ever,
With his red-roan steed of steeds,
Sooth I know not; but I know
She could never show him--never,
That swan's nest among the reeds.
--_Elizabeth Barrett Browning._
A PATRIARCH OF THE OLDEN TIME
Oh that I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved
me; when his candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I
walked through darkness; as I was in the days of my youth, when the
secret of God was upon my tabernacle; when the Almighty was yet with
me; when my children were about me; when I washed my steps with
butter, and the rock poured me out rivers of oil.
When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it
gave witness to me: because I delivered the poor that cried, and the
fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that
was ready to perish came upon me; and I caused the widow's heart to sing
for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a
father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not, I searched out.
Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved
for the poor? Let me be weighed in an even balance that God may know
mine integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man servant or of my
maid servant, when they contended with me, what then shall I do when
God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did not
he that made me make him also?
If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have caused the eyes
of the widow to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself alone, and the
fatherless hath not eaten thereof; if I have seen any perish for want
of clothing, or any poor without covering; if his loins have not
blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep; if
I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, when I saw my help in
the gate; then let mine arm fall from my shoulder blade, and mine arm
be broken from the bone.
If I rejoiced at the destruction of him that hated me, or lifted up
myself when evil found him (neither have I suffered my mouth to sin,
by wishing a curse to his soul. The stranger did not lodge in the
street; but I opened my doors to the traveler). If my land cry against
me, or the furrows likewise thereof complain; if I have eaten the
fruits thereof without money, or have caused the owners thereof to
lose their life: let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle
instead of barley.
--_From the "Book of Job."_
HOW CORTÉS ENTERED THE CITY OF MEXICO.
[Illustration: William H. Prescott.]
Mexico, when first discovered by Europeans, was inhabited by a
civilized race called Aztecs. The conquest of that country and the
subjugation of its people by the Spaniards under Hernando Cortés, in
1518-21, was one of the most remarkable episodes in the history of the
Western Continent. William H. Prescott, our American historian, in his
"Conquest of Mexico," has told the story of that event in a manner so
delightful that the whole narrative reads like a romance. His
description of the entry of the Spaniards into the capital city of the
Aztecs is as follows:--
It was the eighth of November, 1519, a conspicuous day in history,
as that on which the Europeans first set foot in the capital of
the Western World.
Cortés with his little body of horse formed a sort of advanced
guard to the army. Then came the Spanish infantry, who in a
summer's campaign had acquired the discipline and the
weather-beaten aspect of veterans. The baggage occupied the
center; and the rear was closed by the dark files of Tlascalan
warriors. The whole number must have fallen short of seven
thousand; of which fewer than four hundred were Spaniards.
Everywhere the conquerors beheld the evidence of a crowded and
thriving population, exceeding all they had yet seen. The temples
and principal buildings of the cities were covered with a hard
white stucco, which glistened like enamel in the level beams of
the morning. The margin of the lake was thickly gemmed with towns
and hamlets. The water was darkened by swarms of canoes filled
with Indians, who clambered up the sides of the causeway and gazed
with curious astonishment on the strangers. And here, also, they
beheld those fairy islands of flowers, overshadowed occasionally
by trees of considerable size, rising and falling with the gentle
undulation of the billows.
At the distance of half a league from the capital, they
encountered a solid work, or curtain of stone, which traversed the
dike. It was twelve feet high, was strengthened by towers at the
extremities, and in the center was a battlemented gateway, which
opened a passage to the troops.
Here they were met by several hundred Aztec chiefs, who came out
to announce the approach of Montezuma and to welcome the Spaniards
to his capital. They were dressed in the fanciful gala costume of
the country, with the _maxlatl_, or cotton sash, around their
loins, and a broad mantle of the same material, or of the
brilliant feather embroidery, flowing gracefully down their
shoulders. On their necks and arms they displayed collars and
bracelets of turquoise mosaic, with which delicate plumage was
curiously mingled, while their ears and underlips, and
occasionally their noses, were garnished with pendants formed of
precious stones, or crescents of fine gold.
As each cacique made the usual formal salutation of the country
separately to the general, the tedious ceremony delayed the march
more than an hour. After this the army experienced no further
interruption till it reached a bridge near the gates of the city.
It was built of wood, and was thrown across an opening of the
dike, which furnished an outlet to the waters when agitated by the
winds or swollen by a sudden influx in the rainy season. It was a
drawbridge; and the Spaniards, as they crossed it, felt how truly
they were committing themselves to the mercy of Montezuma, who, by
thus cutting off their communications with the country, might hold
them prisoners in his capital.
In the midst of these unpleasant reflections, they beheld the
glittering retinue of the emperor emerging from the great street
which led then, as it still does, through the heart of the city.
Amidst a crowd of Indian nobles, preceded by three officers of
state bearing golden wands, they saw the royal palanquin blazing
with burnished gold. It was borne on the shoulders of nobles, and
over it a canopy of gaudy feather work, powdered with jewels and
fringed with silver, was supported by four attendants of the same
rank. They were barefooted, and walked with a slow, measured pace,
and with eyes bent on the ground.
When the train had come within a convenient distance, it halted, and
Montezuma, descending from his litter, came forward, leaning on the
arms of the lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan, his nephew and
brother, both of whom had already been made known to the Spaniards.
As the monarch advanced under the canopy, the obsequious attendants
strewed the ground with cotton tapestry, that his imperial feet
might not be contaminated by the rude soil. His subjects of high and
low degree, who lined the sides of the causeway, bent forward with
their eyes fastened on the ground as he passed, and some of the
humbler class prostrated themselves before him.
Montezuma wore the girdle and ample square cloak, _tilmatli_, of his
nation. It was made of the finest cotton, with the embroidered ends
gathered in a knot round his neck. His feet were defended by sandals
having soles of gold, and the leathern thongs which bound them to
his ankles were embossed with the same metal. Both the cloak and
sandals were sprinkled with pearls and precious stones, among which
the emerald, and another green stone of high estimation among the
Aztecs, were conspicuous. On his head he wore no other ornament than
a _panache_ of plumes of the royal green, which floated down his
back, the badge of military, rather than of regal, rank.
He was at this time about forty years of age. His person was tall
and thin, but not ill made. His hair, which was black and
straight, was not very long; to wear it short was considered
unbecoming to persons of rank. His beard was thin; his complexion
somewhat paler than is often found in his dusky, or rather
copper-colored, race. His features, though serious in their
expression, did not wear the look of melancholy, indeed of
dejection, which characterizes his portrait, and which may well
have settled on them at a later period. He moved with dignity, and
his whole demeanor, tempered by an expression of benignity not to
have been anticipated from the reports circulated of his
character, was worthy of a great prince.
The army halted as he drew near. Cortés, dismounting, threw his
reins to a page, and supported by a few of the principal
cavaliers, advanced to meet him. The interview must have been one
of uncommon interest to both. In Montezuma, Cortés beheld the lord
of the broad realms he had traversed, whose magnificence and power
had been the burden of every tongue. In the Spaniard, on the other
hand, the Aztec prince saw the strange being whose history seemed
to be so mysteriously connected with his own; the predicted one of
his oracles, whose achievements proclaimed him something more than
human.
But whatever may have been the monarch's feelings, he so far
suppressed them as to receive his guest with princely courtesy,
and to express his satisfaction at personally seeing him in his
capital. Cortés responded by the most profound expressions of
respect, while he made ample acknowledgments for the substantial
proofs which the emperor had given the Spaniards of his
munificence. He then hung round Montezuma's neck a sparkling chain
of colored crystal, accompanying this with a movement as if to
embrace him, when he was restrained by the two Aztec lords,
shocked at the menaced profanation of the sacred person of their
master. After the interchange of these civilities, Montezuma
appointed his brother to conduct the Spaniards to their residence
in the capital, and, again entering his litter, was borne off
amidst prostrate crowds in the same state in which he had come.
The Spaniards quickly followed, and, with colors flying and music
playing, soon made their entrance into the southern quarter of
Tenochtitlan.
Here, again, they found fresh cause for admiration in the grandeur
of the city and the superior style of its architecture. The
dwellings of the poorer class were, indeed, chiefly of reeds and
mud. But the great avenue through which they were now marching was
lined with the houses of the nobles, who were encouraged by the
emperor to make the capital their residence. They were built of a
red porous stone drawn from quarries in the neighborhood, and,
though they rarely rose to a second story, often covered a large
space of ground. The flat roofs, _azoteas_, were protected by
stone parapets, so that every house was a fortress. Sometimes
these roofs resembled parterres of flowers, so thickly were they
covered with them, but more frequently these were cultivated in
broad terraced gardens, laid out between the edifices.
Occasionally a great square or market place intervened, surrounded
by its porticoes of stone and stucco; or a pyramidal temple reared
its colossal bulk, crowned with its tapering sanctuaries, and
altars blazing with inextinguishable fires. The great street
facing the southern causeway, unlike most others in the place, was
wide, and extended some miles in nearly a straight line, as before
noticed, through the center of the city. A spectator standing at
one end of it, as his eye ranged along the deep vista of temples,
terraces, and gardens, might clearly discern the other, with the
blue mountains in the distance, which, in the transparent
atmosphere of the table-land, seemed almost in contact with the
buildings.
But what most impressed the Spaniards was the throngs of people
who swarmed through the streets and on the canals, filling every
doorway and window and clustering on the roofs of the buildings.
"I well remember the spectacle," exclaims Bernal Diaz; "it seems
now, after so many years, as present to my mind as if it were but
yesterday." But what must have been the sensations of the Aztecs
themselves, as they looked on the portentous pageant! as they
heard, now for the first time, the well-cemented pavement ring
under the iron tramp of the horses,--the strange animals which
fear had clothed in such supernatural terrors: as they gazed on
the children of the East, revealing their celestial origin in
their fair complexions; saw the bright falchions and bonnets of
steel, a metal to them unknown, glancing like meteors in the sun,
while sounds of unearthly music--at least, such as their rude
instruments had never wakened--floated in the air?
[Illustration: Hernando Cortés.]
As they passed down the spacious street, the troops repeatedly
traversed bridges suspended above canals, along which they saw the
Indian barks gliding swiftly with their little cargoes of fruits
and vegetables for the markets of Tenochtitlan. At length they
halted before a broad area near the center of the city, where rose
the huge pyramidal pile dedicated to the patron war god of the
Aztecs, second only, in size as well as sanctity, to the temple of
Cholula, and covering the same ground now in part occupied by the
great cathedral of Mexico.
Facing the western gate of the inclosure of the temple, stood a
low range of stone buildings, spreading over a wide extent of
ground, the palace of Axayacatl, Montezuma's father, built by that
monarch about fifty years before. It was appropriated as the
barracks of the Spaniards. The emperor himself was in the
courtyard, waiting to receive them. Approaching Cortés, he took
from a vase of flowers, borne by one of his slaves, a massy
collar, in which the shell of a species of crawfish, much prized
by the Indians, was set in gold and connected by heavy links of
the same metal. From this chain depended eight ornaments, also of
gold, made in resemblance of the same shellfish, a span in length
each, and of delicate workmanship; for the Aztec goldsmiths were
confessed to have shown skill in their craft not inferior to their
brethren of Europe. Montezuma, as he hung the gorgeous collar
round the general's neck, said, "This palace belongs to you,
Malinche" (the epithet by which he always addressed him), "and
your brethren. Rest after your fatigues, for you have much need to
do so, and in a little while I will visit you again." So saying,
he withdrew with his attendants, evincing in this act a delicate
consideration not to have been expected in a barbarian.
THE SKYLARK.
Bird of the wilderness,
Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling place:
Oh to abide in the desert with thee!
Wild is thy lay, and loud,
Far in the downy cloud:
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where, on thy dewy wing,
Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
O'er fell and fountain sheen,
O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,
Over the cloudlet dim,
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!