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]