We are now arrived at that part of our subject where we may say with the
poet,
"The knights are dust,
And their good swords are rust:
Their souls are with the saints, we trust."
With Italy the historical tracing ceases of that system of principles
which for so many centuries formed or influenced the character of Europe.
Its rude beginnings may be marked in the patriarchal manners which
preceded every known frame of artificial life, and have been shaped and
modified by the legislator and the moralist. The ties of fraternity or
companionship in arms, respect to elders, devotion to women, military
education and military investiture, were the few and simple elements of
chivalry, and in other times would have formed the foundation of other
systems of manners. But a new and mighty spirit was now influencing the
world, and bending to its purposes every principle and affection.
Christianity, with its sanctities and humanities, gave a form and
character to chivalry. He who was invested with the military belt was no
longer the mere soldier of ambition and rapine, but he was taught to couch
his lance for objects of defence and protection, rather than for those of
hostility. He was the friend of the distressed, of widows and orphans, and
of all who suffered from tyranny and oppression. The doctrine of Christian
benevolence, that all who name the name of Christ are brothers, gave
beauty and grace to the principles of fraternity, which were the Gothic
inheritance of knights, and therefore the wars of the middle ages were
distinguished for their humanities. A cavalier was kind and courteous to
his prisoner, because he saw in him a brother; and while the system of
ancient manners would have limited this feeling to people of one nation, a
knight did not bound his humanity by country or soil, for Christian
chivalry was spread over most parts of Europe, and formed mankind into one
band, one order of men. From the same principle all the courtesies of
private life were communicated to strangers; and gentleness of manners,
and readiness of service, expanded from a private distinction into an
universal character. Since, by the Christian religion, woman was restored
to the rank in the moral world which nature had originally assigned her,
the feelings of respect for the sex, which were entertained in the early
and unsophisticated state of Europe, were heightened by the new sanctions
of piety. It was a principle, as well as a feeling and a love, to guard
and cherish woman; and many of the amenities of chivalry proceeded from
her mild influence and example.
The patriarchal system of manners, shaped and sanctioned by Christianity,
formed the fabric of chivalry; and romance, with its many-coloured hues,
gave it light and beauty. The early ages of Europe gaily moved in all the
wildness and vigour of youth; imagination freshened and heightened every
pleasure; the world was a vision, and life a dream. The common and
palpable value of an object was never looked at, but every thing was
viewed in its connection with fancy and sentiment. Prudence and
calculation were not suffered to check noble aspirations: army after army
traversed countries, and crossed the sea to the Holy Land, reckless of
pain or danger: duties were not cautiously regarded with a view to limit
the performance of them; for every principle was not only practised with
zeal, but the same fervid wish to do well lent it new obligations. From
these feelings proceeded all the graceful refinements, all the romance of
chivalry: knighthood itself became a pledge for virtue; and as into the
proud and lofty imagination of a true cavalier nothing base could enter,
he did not hesitate to confide in the word of his brother of chivalry, on
his pledging his honour to the performance of any particular action. There
was no legal or other positive punishment consequent on the violation of
his word; and, therefore, the matter being left to imagination and
feeling, the contempt of his fellow-knights could be the only result of
recreancy. The knight looked to fame as one of the guerdons of his toils:
this value of the opinions of others taught him to dread shame and
disgrace; and thus that fine sense of morality, that voluntary submission
to its maxims which we call honour, became a part of knighthood.
The genius of chivalry was personal, inasmuch as each knight, when not
following the banner of his sovereign, was in himself an independent
being, acting from his own sense of virtue, and not deriving counsel from,
or sharing opprobrium with, others. This independence of action exalted
his character; and, nourished by that pride and energy of soul which
belong to man in an early state of society, all the higher and sterner
qualities of the mind,--dignity, uncompromising fidelity to obligations,
self-denial, and generousness, both of sentiment and conduct,--became the
virtues of chivalry.
All the religious devotion of a cavalier to woman existed in his mind,
independently of, or superadded to, his oath of knighthood. She was not
merely the object of his protection, but of his respect and idolatry. His
love was the noble homage of strength to beauty. Something supernaturally
powerful had been ascribed to her by the fathers of modern Europe; and
this appeal to the imagination was not lost. In some ages and countries it
reigned in all its religious force; in others it was refined into
gentleness and courtesy: but every where, and at every time, the firmest
confidence in woman's truth accompanied it, or supplied its stead; and the
opinion of her virtue, which this feeling implied, had a corresponding
influence on his own manners.
The triumph of chivalry over all preceding systems of opinions was
complete, when imagination refined the fierceness of passion into generous
and gentle affection,--a refinement so perfect and beautiful, that
subsequent times, with all their vaunted improvements in letters and
civilisation, are obliged to revert their eyes to the by-gone days of the
shield and the lance for the most pleasing and graceful pictures of
lady-love.
From these elements, and by means of these principles, sprang the fair and
goodly system of chivalry, which extended itself, as we have seen, over
most of the states of Europe, blending with the strongest passions and
dearest affections of the heart, influencing the manners of private life,
and often determining the character of political events. In England and
France its power was most marked and decided; in Spain it was curiously
blended with Oriental feelings; Germany was not much softened by its
impressions; and in Italy the bitterness of private war admitted but few
of its graces. It is difficult to define the precise period of its
duration, for it rose in the mists and gloom of barbarism; and the moment
of its setting was not regarded, for other lights were then playing on the
moral horizon, and fixing the attention of the world. In the part,
entirely historical, of the present work, the reader must have remarked,
that sometimes the decay of chivalry was gradual, and not apparently
occasioned by external means; while in other countries its extinction was
manifestly hastened by causes which sprang not from any seeds of weakness
in itself. But, viewing the subject in its great and leading bearings, it
may be observed, that chivalry was coeval with the middle ages of Europe,
and that its power ceased when new systems of warfare were matured, when
the revival of letters was complete and general, and the reformation of
religion gave a new subject for the passions and imagination.
This attempt to describe a history of chivalry has proved, at least, that
chivalry was no dream of poets and romancers, and that the feudal system
was not the only form of real life during the middle ages. Sismondi, in
his work on the Literature of the South, contends that chivalry was an
ideal world. He then admits, that sometimes the virtues of chivalry were
not entirely poetical fictions, but that they existed in the minds of the
people, without, however, producing any effect on their lives. His reasons
for his opinions are, that it is impossible to distinguish the countries
where chivalry prevailed; that it is represented to us as remote both in
time and place; and while one class of authors give accounts of the
general corruption of their age, writers of after times refer to those
very days, and adorn them with every virtue and grace.
Now, much of this reasoning is erroneous. That past ages should be praised
at the expence of the present is no uncommon a circumstance, whether in
morals or poetry. We have proved that the countries where chivalry
prevailed are clearly distinguishable, and the degree of its influence
can likewise be marked. M. Sismondi does not argue as if he had been aware
that there ever had existed such a writer as Froissart; who does not refer
to old times for his pictures of arms and amours, but describes the
chivalric character of his own age.
Notwithstanding the light and beauty which chivalry cast over the world,
the system has been more frequently condemned than praised. The objectors
have rested their opinion on a sentence, said to be witty, of an old
English author, that errant knights were arrant knaves, or on a few
passages of reprehension which are scattered through the works of
middle-age literature. Sainte Palaye has founded his condemnation of
chivalry upon the remark of Pierre de Blois, a writer of the twelfth
century, that the horses of knights groan under the burden, not of
weapons, but of wine; not with lances, but cheeses; not with swords, but
with bottles; not with spears, but with spits.[241] Not many years
afterwards, John of Salisbury also says, that some knights appear to think
that martial glory consists in shining in elegant dress, and attaching
their silken garments so tightly to their body, that they may seem part of
their flesh. When they ride on their ambling palfreys they think
themselves so many Apollos. If they should unite for a martial chevisance,
their camp will resemble that of Thais, rather than that of Hannibal.
Every one is most courageous in the banqueting hall, but in the battle he
desires to be last. They would rather shoot their arrows at an enemy than
meet him hand to hand. If they return home unwounded, they sing
triumphantly of their battles, and declare that a thousand deaths hovered
over them. The first places at supper are awarded to them. Their feasts
are splendid, and engrossed by self-indulgence: they avoid labour and
exercise like a dog or a snake. All the dangers and difficulties of
chivalry they resign to those who serve them, and in the mean time they so
richly gild their shields, and adorn their camps, that every one of them
looks not a scholar but a chieftain of war.[242]
All this splenetic declamation involves charges of coxcombry, luxury, and
cowardice. That knights were often guilty of the first offence is probable
enough, for all their minute attention to the form and fashion of armour
could not but attach their minds too strongly to the effect of their
personal appearance. Graced also with the scarf of his sovereign-mistress,
the knight well might caracole his gallant steed with an air of
self-complacency: but a censure on such matters comes with little
propriety from monks, who, according to Chaucer, were wont to tie their
beads under their chin with a true lover's knot.
The personal indulgence of the knights was not the luxury of the
cloister,--idle, gross, and selfish,--but it was the high and rich
joviality of gay and ardent souls. They were boon or good companions in
the hall, as well as in the battle-field. If their potations were deep,
they surely were not dull; for the wine-cup was crowned and quaffed to the
honour of beauty; and minstrelsy, with its sweetest melodies, threw an air
of sentiment over the scene. How long their repasts lasted history has not
related: but we have seen, in the life of that great and mighty English
knight, Sir Walter Manny, that when the trumpet sounded to horse,
cavaliers overthrew, in gay disorder, every festival-appliance, in their
impatience to don their harness, and mount their war-steeds; and we also
saw that a cup of rich Gascon wine softened the pride and anger of Sir
John Chandos, and, awakening in him the feelings of chivalric generosity,
impelled him to succour the Earl of Pembroke. In sooth, at the festivals
of cavaliers all the noble feelings of chivalry were displayed. In those
hours of dilatation of the heart, no appeal was made in vain to the
principles of knighthood.
Even so late as the year 1462, when the sun of chivalry was nearly set, at
a high festival which the Duke of Burgundy gave, at Brussels, to the lords
and ladies of the country, two heralds entered the hall, introducing a
stranger, who declared that he brought with him letters of credence from
the noble lady his mistress. The letters were then delivered by him to the
officer of the Duke, who read them aloud. Their purport was, that the lady
complained of a certain powerful neighbour, who had threatened to
dispossess her of her lands, unless she could find some knight that,
within a year, would successfully defend her against him in single combat.
The stranger then demanded a boon of the Duke; and His Grace, like a true
son of chivalry, accorded it, without previously requiring its nature. The
request was, that he should procure for the lady three knights, to be
immediately trained to arms; that out of these three the lady should be
permitted to choose her champion. Then, and not before, she would disclose
her name. As soon as the stranger concluded, a burst of joyful approval
rang through the hall. Three knights (and the famous Bastard of Burgundy
was of the number) immediately declared themselves candidates for the
honour of defending the unknown fair. Their prowess was acknowledged by
all the cavaliers present, and they affixed their seals to the
articles.[243]
Except the knights were actually engaged in foreign countries, on martial
chevisance, all the festivals, particularly those which succeeded the
graceful pastime of the tournament, were frequented by dames and damsels,
whose presence calling on the knights to discharge the offices of high
courtesy, chased away the god of wine. The games of chess and tables, or
the dance, succeeded; while the worthy monks, Pierre of Blois, and John of
Salisbury, having no such rich delights in their refectory, were compelled
to continue their carousals.
How gay and imaginative were the scenes of life when chivalry threw over
them her magic robe! At a ball in Naples, Signor Galeazzo of Mantua was
honoured with the hand of the Queen Joanna. The dance being concluded, and
the Queen reseated on her throne, the gallant knight knelt before her,
and, confessing his inability with language adequately to thank her for
the honour she had done him, he vowed that he would wander through the
world, and perform chivalric duties, till he had conquered two cavaliers,
whom he would conduct into her presence, and leave at her disposal. The
Queen was pleased and flattered by this mark of homage, and assured him
that she wished him joy in accomplishing a vow which was so agreeable to
the customs of knighthood. The knight travelled, the knight conquered;
and, at the end of a year, he presented to the Queen two cavaliers. The
Queen received them; but, instead of exercising the power of a conqueror,
she graciously gave them their liberty, recommending them, before their
departure, to view the curiosities of the rich city of Naples. They did
so; and when they appeared before the Queen to thank her for her kindness,
she made them many noble presents, and they then departed, seeking
adventures, and publishing the munificence and courtesy of Joanna.[244]
But the charge of cowardice which the monks brought against the knights is
the most vain and foolish of all their accusations, and throws a strong
shade of contempt and suspicion on the rest. If they had said that
chivalric daring often ran wild into rashness, we could readily enough
credit the possibility of the fact; but nothing could be more absurd than
to charge with cowardice men who, from the dauntlessness of their minds,
and the hardy firmness of their bodies, had been invested with the
military belt.
The reason of all this vituperative declamation against chivalry may be
gathered from a very curious passage in a writer during the reign of
Stephen. "The bishops, the bishops themselves, I blush to affirm it, yet
not all, but many, (and he particularises the bishops of Winchester,
Lincoln, and Chester,) bound in iron, and completely furnished with arms,
were accustomed to mount war-horses with the perverters of their country,
to participate in their prey; to expose to bonds and torture the knights
whom they took in the chance of war, or whom they met full of money; and
while they themselves were the head and cause of so much wickedness and
enormity, they ascribed it to their knights."[245] Hence, then, it appears
that many of the bishops were robbers, and that they charged their own
offences on the heads of the chivalry. The remark of the writer on the
cruelty of the bishops to their prisoners is extremely curious,
considering it in opposition to the general demeanour of knights to those
whom the fortune of war threw into their hands. But these wars and
jealousies between the knighthood and the priesthood, while they account
for all the accusations which one class were perpetually making against
the other, compel us to despise their mutual criminations.
Nothing more, perhaps, need be said to deface the pictures of the knightly
character as drawn by Pierre de Blois and John of Salisbury; and they
should not have met with so much attention from me if they had not always
formed the van of every attack upon chivalry. But there is one passage in
Dr. Henry's History of England so closely applicable to the present part
of my subject, that I cannot forbear from inserting it. "It would not be
safe," observes that judicious historian, "to form our notions of the
national character of the people of England from the pictures which are
drawn of it by some of the monkish historians. The monk of Malmsbury, in
particular, who wrote the life of Edward II., paints his countrymen and
contemporaries in the blackest colours. 'What advantage,' says he, 'do we
reap from all our modern pride and insolence? In our days the lowest,
poorest wretch, who is not worth a halfpenny, despises his superiors, and
is not afraid to return them curse for curse. But this, you say, is owing
to their rusticity. Let us see, then, the behaviour of those who think
themselves polite and learned. Where do you meet with more abuse and
insolence than at court? There, every one swelling with pride and rancour,
scorns to cast a look on his inferiors, disdains his equals, and proudly
rivals his superiors. The squire endeavours to outshine the knight, the
knight the baron, the baron the earl, the earl the king, in dress and
magnificence. Their estates being insufficient to support this
extravagance, they have recourse to the most oppressive acts, plundering
their neighbours and stripping their dependents almost naked, without
sparing even the priests of God. I may be censured for my too great
boldness, if I give an ill character of my own countrymen and kindred; but
if I may be permitted to speak the truth, the English exceed all other
nations in the three vices of pride, perjury, and dishonesty. You will
find great numbers of this nation in all the countries washed by the Greek
sea; and it is commonly reported that they are infamous over all these
countries for their deceitful callings.' But, we must remember, (as Dr.
Henry comments on this passage,) that this picture was drawn by a _peevish
monk_, in very unhappy times, when faction raged with the greatest fury,
both in the court and country."
It would not alter the nature of chivalry, or detract any thing from its
merits, if many instances were to be adduced of the recreancy of knights,
of their want of liberality, courtesy, or any other chivalric qualities;
for nothing is more unjust than to condemn any system for actions which
are hostile to its very spirit and principles. One fair way of judging it,
is to examine its natural tendencies. A character of mildness must have
been formed wherever the principles of chivalry were acknowledged. A great
object of the order was protection; and therefore a kind and gentle regard
to the afflictions and misfortunes of others tempered the fierceness of
the warrior. In many points chivalry was only a copy of the Christian
religion; and as that religion is divine, and admirably adapted to improve
and perfect our moral nature, so the same merit cannot in fairness be
denied to any of its forms and modifications. Chivalry embraced much of
the beautiful morality of Christianity,--its spirit of kindness and
gentleness; and men were called upon to practise the laws of mercy and
humanity by all the ties which can bind the heart and conscience; by the
sanctions of religion, the love of fame, by a powerful and lofty sense of
honour. On the other hand, the Christianity of the time was not the pure
light of the Gospel, for it breathed war and homicide; and hence the page
of history, faithful to its trust, has sometimes painted the knights
amidst the gloomy horrors of the crusades ruthlessly trampling on the
enemies of the cross, and at other times generously sparing their
prostrate Christian foes, and gaily caracoling about the lists of the
tournament.
But these are not the only means of showing the general beneficial nature
of the institutions of chivalry. The character of modern Europe is the
result of the slow and silent growth of ages informed with various and
opposite elements. The impress of the Romans is not entirely effaced; and
two thousand years have not destroyed all the superstitions of our Pagan
ancestors. We must refer to past ages for the origin of many of those
features of modern society which distinguish the character of Europe from
that of the ancient world, and of the most polished states of Asia. We
boast our generousness in battle, the bold display of our animosity, and
our hatred of treachery and the secret meditations of revenge. To what
cause can these qualities be assigned? Not to any opinions which for the
last few hundred years have been infused into our character, for there is
no resemblance between those qualities and any such opinions; but they can
be traced back to those days of ancient Europe when the knight was quick
to strike, and generous to forgive; and when he would present harness and
arms to his foe rather than that the battle should be unfairly and
unequally fought. This spirit, though not the form, of the chivalric times
has survived to ours, and forms one of our graces and distinctions. The
middle ages, as we have shown, were not entirely ages of feudal power; for
the consequence of the personal nobility of chivalry was felt and
acknowledged. The qualities of knighthood tempered and softened all
classes of society, and worth was the passport to distinction. Thus
chivalry effected more than letters could accomplish in the ancient world;
for it gave rise to the personal merit which in the knight, and in his
successor, the gentleman of the present day, checks the pride of birth and
the presumption of wealth.
But it is in the polish of modern society that the graces of chivalry are
most pleasingly displayed. The knight was charmed into courtesy by the
gentle influence of woman, and the air of mildness which she diffused has
never died away. While such things exist, can we altogether assent to the
opinion of a celebrated author, that "the age of chivalry is gone?" Many
of its forms and modes have disappeared; fixed governments and wise laws
have removed the necessity for, and quenched the spirit of,
knight-errantry and romance; and, happily for the world, the torch of
religious persecution has long since sunk into the ashes. But chivalric
imagination still waves its magic wand over us. We love to link our names
with the heroic times of Europe; and our armorial shields and crests
confess the pleasing illusions of chivalry. The modern orders of military
merit (palpable copies of some of the forms of middle-age distinctions)
constitute the cheap defence of nations, and keep alive the personal
nobility of knighthood. We wage our wars not with the cruelty of Romans,
but with the gallantry of cavaliers; for the same principle is in
influence now which of old inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity.
Courtesy of manners, that elegant drapery of chivalry, still robes our
social life; and liberality of sentiment distinguishes the gentleman, as
in days of yore it was wont to distinguish the knight.