Mustering for the Tournament—The Proclamation—The Procession at St.
John’s Chapel.
The lists were now finished, and the crests and blazoned coat-armour of
such knights as meant to tilt were on this day to be mustered in the
little chapel of St John’s. Chivalry was to be alive in all its gaudy
pomp. Hitherto the knights had loitered about idle, or wasted the hours
in sighing soft things into the delighted ears of their lady-loves, or
in playing with them at chess or tables. Some, indeed, had more
actively employed themselves, in hawking or hunting, and others had
formed parties at bowls; but now all was to be bustle and busy
preparation in the Castle, both with knights and ladies.
By dawn of day, squires, pages, and lacqueys, were seen running in all
directions. Armour was observed gleaming in the ruddy beams of the
morning sun; proud crests and helms, and nodding plumes, and
richly-emblazoned shields and surcoats, and glittering lances, and
flaunting banners and pennons, everywhere met the eye. The Earl of
Moray, who had much to direct and to decide on, was compelled to shake
off the sombre and distressing thoughts that oppressed him, and even to
use his eloquence with the Countess, to induce her to rouse herself
from the grief she had been plunged into by the shame her brother, the
Wolfe of Badenoch, had brought upon her. She also had important duties
to perform; and the first burst of her vexation being now over, she
exerted her rational and energetic mind to overcome her feelings, and
to prepare for the proper execution of them.
To gratify to the fullest extent that fondness for parade which so
powerfully characterised the age, and to render the spectacle as
imposing as possible, the whole of the knights, with their respective
parties, were ordained to appear in the Castle-yard, where, having been
joined by the ladies, it was intended they should be formed into a
grand procession, in which they were to ride to the Mead of St John’s,
to witness the herald’s proclamation.
Sir Patrick Hepborne was early astir, and his attendants and horses
were all assembled before the Castle-yard began to fill. In the midst
of them waved his red pennon, bearing his achievement on a chevron
argent, two lions pulling at a rose. The parade that Mortimer Sang had,
with great good judgment, selected for them, was immediately opposite
to the window of the apartment which he knew was occupied by Katherine
Spears, whose melting eyes had much disturbed his repose, and had
created no small turmoil in his bosom. Mortimer yet hoped to win his
spurs, in which event, the daughter of Rory Spears, though he was
reputed rich, might have hardly, perhaps, been considered a proper
match for him. But Master Sang could not resist the fascination of
Katherine’s talk; and when in her company, he was so wrapped in
admiration of her, that he invariably forgot that Rory Spears was her
father, or that she had ever had a father at all. The damsel, for her
part, looked with inexpressible delight on the soldier-like form of
Squire Mortimer, and listened with no less pleasure to his good-natured
sallies of humour, graced, as they always were, with much of the polish
of travel.
The sound of the trumpets, as the party of each respective knight
appeared within the arched gateway of the Castle’s outworks, now came
more frequent, and the neighing of impatient steeds, provoking one
another in proud and joyous challenge, became louder, and the shrill
voices of the pursuivants were heard, proclaiming the name, rank, and
praises of each chevalier as he appeared. The sun shone out bright and
hot, increasing the glitter of the gold-embossed armour of the knights,
and the splendour of their embroidered pennons and banners, their
richly-emblazoned surcoats, and their horse-furniture, that swept the
very ground as the coursers moved.
As Sir Patrick Hepborne passed outwards, on his way to descend to the
courtyard, he found the Earl of Moray already upon the terrace, arrayed
in all his pride. Behind him stood his standard-bearer, supporting the
staff of his banner in an inclined position, so that its broad silk
hung down unruffled by a breath of air, displaying on a golden field
the three cushions pendant, within a double tressure, flowered and
counterflowered with fleurs-de-lys gules.
“Sir Patrick,” said he, “thou art yet in good time. If it so please
thee to tarry here with me for some short space, I will endeavour to
teach thee some of the names and titles of those gallant chevaliers who
are beginning to throng the yard of the Castle below. Thou dost already
know my brother, the Earl of Dunbar, who standeth yonder, with his red
surcoat covered with argent lions rampant; and I have also made thee
know him with whom he holdeth parlance, who beareth an ostrich proper
as his crest, and who hath his surcoat emblazoned gules, with a fess
cheque argent and azure, to be the brave Sir David Lindsay of Glenesk,
my worthy brother-in-law. With him is the proud Sir Thomas Hay of
Errol, Constable of Scotland, who standeth alike sykered to me. Thou
seest he beareth as his crest a falcon proper, and the silver cloth of
his surcoat is charged with three red escutcheons.
“But see how the noble Douglas’s flaming salamander—jamais
arrière—riseth over the towering crests around him; and as he shifts
his place from time to time, thou mayest catch a transient glimpse of
the bloody hearts that cover his argent field. Yonder hart’s head
erased proper, attired with ten tynes, and bearing the motto, Veritas
vincit, tells us that the wearer is Sir John de Keith, son of the
Knight Marischal of Scotland. His emblazonry is hid from thee at
present, but peraunter thou art aware that his coat-armour is argent on
a chief or, three pallets gules. Yonder surcoat of cloth of gold with
three mascles on a bend azure, as thou mayest have already discovered,
veils the armour of Sir John Halyburton, than whom no knight hath a
firmer seat in saddle, or a tougher arm to guide his ashen spear. Thou
seest he weareth the red scarf of his lady-love attached to the Moor’s
head proper, that grinneth as his crest amid the plumes of his helmet.”
“I do know him well, my Lord,” replied Sir Patrick; “it hath pleased
him to admit me already into close friendship.”
“Ha!” continued the Earl, “seest thou yonder knight, who rideth so
gaily into the court-yard, with his casque surmounted by a buck’s head
couped proper, attired or? He is as brave a chevalier as ever spurred
in field—Sir John de Gordon, Lord of Strathbolgy; his azure banner
waves behind him, charged with three boars’ heads couped or. That
knight who beareth for his crest a sleuth-hound proper, collared and
leished gules, and whose gold-woven surcoat is charged with three red
bars wavy—he, I mean, who now speaketh to the Douglas as he leaneth on
his lance—is his brother-in-law, Sir Malcolm Drummond. Next to him
stands Sir Alexander Fraser of Cowie, known by his azure coat, and his
three cinquefeuilles argent.
“Thou mayest know the Earl of Sutherland by the gravity of his air, as
well as by his richly embroidered red surcoat, displaying three stars
within a border or, and the double tressure flowered and
counterflowered with fleurs-de-lys of the field, marking his descent
from King Robert the First. His helm beareth the cat sejant proper,
with the motto, Sans peur. Behind him standeth Hugh Fraser, Lord of
Lovat, with his crest, a stag’s head erased or, armed argent, and his
azure coat charged with three argent cinquefeuilles.
“Ha! ha! ha! there thou comest, thou mad wag, Sir William de Dalzell,
with thine erect dagger on thy helm, and thy motto, I dare. Depardieux,
thou mayest well say so, for, by St. Andrew, thou wilt dare anything in
lists or in field. Thou seest, Sir Patrick, that his sable surcoat hath
on it a naked man, with arms extended proper. That lion passant,
quardant gules, doth ornament the silver surcoat of Sir Walter Ogilvie
of Wester Powrie, Sheriff of Forfar and Angus; and yonder golden coat,
with the three red crescents, doth cover the armour of Sir William
Seaton of Seaton. That argent lion rampant is the crest of Sir Robert
Bruce of Clackmannan; thou seest his golden coat hath a saltire and
chief gules. That crest, a boar’s head couped or, marks Sir Gillespie
Campbell of Lochow; and the unicorn’s head, near it, is that of Sir
William Cunninghame of Kilmaurs. My neighbour, Sir Thomas de Kinnaird
of Cowbin, is easily known by his red surcoat, bearing a saltire
between four golden crescents. He that holdeth converse with him, and
hath three silver buckles on a bend azure on his silver surcoat, is Sir
Norman de Leslie of Rothes. Behind him is Sir Murdoch Mackenzie of
Kintail; his surcoat is hid from our view, but he beareth, on an azure
field, a stag’s head embossed or.
“Yonder knight, who rideth in at this moment, clad in a golden surcoat,
blazoned with a bend azure, charged with a star of six points between
two crescents of the field, is Sir Walter Scott of Rankelburn, as brave
a Borderer as ever rode with his lance’s point to the South. With him
cometh a chevalier, whose crest is an erect silver spur winged; he is
Sir John de Johnston, one of the guardians of the Western Marches. He
who cometh after Sir John, bearing as his crest the bear’s paw holding
a scimitar, and who hath his red surcoat charged with a lion rampant
holding a crooked scimitar in his dexter paw, is Sir James Scrimgeour,
the Constable of Dundee, I wot a right famous knight. With him is a
knight also clad in a red surcoat, but having three golden stars; that
is Sir Henry Sutherland of Duffus.
“Yonder sable eagle displayed on the argent surcoat, doth distinguish
the gallant Sir Alexander Ramsay, Lord of Dalwolsy; and that other
knight in silver, with the three sable unicorns’ heads, is Sir Henry de
Preston of Fermartyn. He in the azure——But hark, Sir Patrick, the
trumpets sound—the procession is about to be marshalled—we must descend
to the courtyard.”
The trumpets had no sooner ceased than the voice of a pursuivant was
heard—
“Oyez! oyez! oyez!—Let the standard-bearer of each noble and knight
take up the parade which the herald did already assign to him, there to
remain till he be duly marshalled.”
Immediately the banners and pennons, which waved in numbers below, were
seen moving in various directions through the crowd, and each became
stationary at its fixed point, near the edge of the area of the
court-yard. This was a preliminary arrangement, without which the
herald would have found great difficulty in executing his duty. As it
was, he and his assistants soon began to bring the most beautiful order
out of the gay confusion that prevailed. The Earl of Fife, who was to
represent the King, appeared, and the Countess of Moray, and all the
ladies, gorgeously apparelled in robes of state, came forth from the
Castle, and began to mingle their slender and delicate forms with the
firm, muscular, war-proved, and mail-clad figures of the knights.
At length all were marshalled and mounted; the court-yard shook with
the shrill clangour of the trumpets and kettle-drums, and the neighing
and prancing of the steeds; and the shouts that began to arise from the
vulgar thousands who were impatiently waiting without the walls,
announced that their eager eyes were at least gratified with the
appearance of the first part of the spectacle.
Forth came some mounted spearmen and bowmen, before whom the dense
crowd began slowly to open and divide; and then some half-dozen
trumpets, with several kettle-drums and clarions, all riding two and
two. These were followed by a troop of pages, also riding in pairs, and
after them came a train of esquires, all gallantly mounted and armed,
and riding in the same order. Between the pages and the esquires were
some kettle-drums and trumpets as before. Then came the Royal Standard,
preceded by a strong band of trumpets, kettle-drums, and clarions, and
various other martial instruments, and guarded by some of the oldest
and noblest of the knights, and such as had no ladies present to claim
their attendance. The standard was followed by the Earl of Fife, who
rode a magnificent milk-white charger, armed and barbed at all points,
and caparisoned with regal splendour. On the present occasion he was
here acting as representative of the King his father, and the pomp of
his array was not inferior to what might have been looked for from a
crowned head. Before him rode six pages and six esquires; and eight
more pages walked, four on each side of his horse, supporting the poles
of a canopy of crimson velvet, covered with golden shields, bearing the
lion rampant gules. His golden surcoat, and the drapery of his horse,
were richly emblazoned with the rampant red lion, and his private
banner that followed bore the full blazon of his arms. The Earl of Fife
was attended by a number of elderly knights of noble blood, who acted
as his guards.
After the King’s representative came the trumpets of the heralds,
followed by the pursuivants; immediately after them appeared the
heralds, in their crowns and robes; and in the middle of the latter was
Albany Herald, his horse led by a page on each side of him. He bore
before him, on a crimson velvet cushion, a helmet and sword of rare and
curious workmanship, which glittered with gold, and sparkled with
precious stones. These were to be the prize of him who, by universal
consent, should best acquit himself in the lists; and the very sight of
them called forth loud shouts of applause from the populace.
Immediately after the heralds came the Marischal and Speaker of the
Lists, attended by the Marischal’s men.
After these came the Earl and Countess of Moray, richly attired,
magnificently mounted, and nobly attended. They were accompanied by the
Lord Welles, and his suit of English knights, to whom succeeded the
married knights who had ladies present, each riding according to his
rank, with his lady by his side, her palfrey being led by a page on
foot. Before each chevalier went his banner or his pennon, and he was
followed by his esquire, pages, and other attendants. Next came the
young or unmarried knights, also marshalled according to their rank,
each preceded by his banner or pennon, and followed by his squire and
cortège. But the youthful gallants were each bound round the neck with
a silken leash, which was held in gentle thrall by the fair hand of a
lady, who rode beside him on a palfrey, led by a foot page. It is
perhaps unnecessary to mention that Sir John Halyburton’s silken
fetters were held by the Lady Jane de Vaux.
After the knights came another train of esquires, who were followed by
pages and lacqueys; and, lastly, the procession was closed by a
considerable force of spearmen, bowmen, and pole-axemen.
The head of the procession had no sooner appeared through the echoing
gateway, than the air was rent with the repeated acclamations of the
populace, who formed a dense mass, stretching away from the outworks in
one uninterrupted mosaic of heads and faces, until they disappeared
beneath the shade of the distant trees of the woodland. The paltry
roofs of the cottages in the straggling hamlet were clustered so thick
that they looked like animated heaps of human beings; and the ancient
single trees that arose here and there among the hovels, were hung with
living fruit. The agitation and commotion of the motley and
party-coloured crowd was very great, but it expanded, and consequently
thinned itself, as the procession moved on, the whole flowing forward
like a vast river, until it lost itself in the depths of the forest,
where its winding course, and the appearing and disappearing of its
various parts among the boles of the trees, with the brilliant though
transient gleams produced by the sunbeams, that pierced their way now
and then downwards through accidental openings in the foliage, kindling
up the bright lance-heads and helmets, and giving fresh lustre to the
vivid colours of the proud heraldic emblazonments, lent an infinite
variety of effect to the spectacle.
Whilst they moved over the green sod, under the leafy canopy of the
forest, the tramp of the horses was deafened, and the shouts of the
populace were in some sort muffled; but when the procession issued
forth on the Meads of St. John, the affrighted welkin rang again with
the repeated and piercing acclamations of a multitude which went on
increasing in numbers as they advanced, particularly after they had
crossed the bridge, and even until they reached the lists. The gates
and barriers were wide open, and the procession filed in.
The Royal Standard was now hoisted over the crimson-covered central
balcony, in which the representative of the Sovereign was afterwards to
take his place, and it was hailed with prolonged cheers; while the
heralds, pursuivants, Marischal, and Speaker of the Lists, and the
judges of the field, having stationed themselves on a platform
immediately underneath the royal balcony, the procession formed itself
into a wide semi-circle in front of it. Meanwhile the galleries
surrounding the lists were rapidly filled up by the populace, and all
waited the issue with breathless impatience.
The Albany Herald now advanced to the front of the platform, and,
holding up the prize sword and helmet in both hands, there was a
flourish of trumpets and kettle-drums, which was drowned by the
deafening shouts of the spectators. This had no sooner subsided, than
Albany, having commanded silence by means of the shrill voices of his
pursuivants, thus began:—
“Oyez, oyez, oyez!—All ye princes, lords, barons, knights, esquires,
ladies, and gentlemen, be it hereby known to you, that a superb
achievement at arms, and a grand and noble tournament, will be held in
these lists, within four days from this present time, the acknowledged
victor to be rewarded with this helmet and sword, given by the noble
and generous John Dunbar, Earl of Moray. All ye who intend to tilt at
this tournament are hereby ordained forthwith to lodge your
coat-armouries with the heralds, that they may be displayed within the
holy chapel of St. John the Baptist, and this on pain of not being
received at the tournament. And your arms shall be thus:—The crest
shall be placed on a plate of copper, large enough to contain the whole
summit of the helmet; and the said plate shall be covered with a
mantle, whereon shall be blazoned the arms of him who bears it; and on
the said mantle, at the top thereof, shall the crest be placed, and
around it shall be a wreath of colours, whatsoever it shall please him.
Further be it remembered, that on the morning of the fourth day from
hence, the arms, banners, and helmets of all the combatants shall be
exposed at their stations; and the speakers shall be present at the
place of combat by ten of the horologue, where and when the arms shall
be examined, and approved or rejected, as may be fitting and right. The
chevaliers shall then become tenants of the field, and tilt with blunt
weapons in pairs, and then the victors shall tilt successively in
pairs, until they be reduced and amenused to two; and he of the two who
may the best acquit himself, shall receive from the hand of her whom he
may proclaim to be the most peerless damsel, the prize of the helmet
and sword.—God save King Robert!”
The herald’s proclamation was received with a flourish of trumpets,
clarions, and kettle-drums, and the continued shouts of the people.
Silence being at length restored,
“Pursuivant,” said he, “stand forth and deliver thee of the rules of
the tourney.”
The pursuivant obeyed the orders of his superior, and proclaimed the
laws of the tourney item by item; after which the trumpets and kettles
again sounded, and the shouts of the populace were renewed. When they
had died away, the heralds with their attendants again mounted, and
then the procession moved round the lists in the order we have already
described, and, issuing from the same gate at which it had entered, it
proceeded slowly towards the adjacent chapel of St. John the Baptist,
which it entirely surrounded, and then halting, under the direction of
the heralds, it formed a wide circle about the beautiful little Gothic
building that stood in an open grove of tall ash-trees.
“Oyez, oyez, oyez!” cried a pursuivant, “let the esquires of those
chevaliers who mean to tilt at this tournament for the prizes given by
the noble and generous John Dunbar, Earl of Moray, or who may, in any
manner of way, desiderate to challenge others, or to leave open to
others the power of challenging them to by-tilting for any other cause
whatsoever—let their esquires now advance, and let the heralds have
inspection of their crests and coat-armouries. He who shall fail to
comply, and whose crest and coat-armour shall not be up before sunset,
shall have no right to enter the lists as a tenant of the field in any
manner of way whatsoever, except always as to pages or squires, to
whom, for this day and to-morrow, the lists shall be open, to give all
such an opportunity of proving their manhood. Advance, then, ye
standard-men and esquires, that ye may deposit the gages which prove
your masters to be gentlemen of arms, blood, and descent; that ye may
see their trophies erected, and stay and watch each by his master’s
achievement, to mark whosoever may touch the same, that his knight’s
honour may not suffer by his neglecting the darreigne.”
In obedience to this order, each knight sent his standard-man, and an
esquire or page, towards the chapel; and Sir Patrick Hepborne was about
to send Mortimer Sang, when that faithful esquire dropped on his knee
before him.
“Nay, my good master, I do humbly crave a boon at thy hands,” said he;
“I do beseech thee let some other of thy people be chosen for this
duty, sith I should at least wish to be a free man for this day and
to-morrow, that I may do some little matter for mine own honour. By St.
Andrew, if I may but bestir myself decently, it will not be amiss for
thy credit, Sir Knight, seeing that a chevalier, whose personal
renommie hath been already established, may be even well enough excused
for amusing himself by taking pleasure in the well-doing of his horse,
his hound, or his hawk.”
“Friend Mortimer,” replied Sir Patrick, “I do much rejoice that thou
hast the glorious desire of reaping laurels so strong within thee.
Trust me, I shall be no hindrance in thy way to fame, but rather I
shall hold fast the ladder, and aid thee to climb and reach it. Thy
time shall be thine own, and thou shalt be at full liberty to use thy
discretion. I shall be much interested in thy success, and shall have
small fear in thy commanding it; so get thee to one of the armourers of
the field, and fit thyself forthwith at my cost, in whatever thou
mayest lack.”
The squire threw himself on one knee, and, kissing his master’s hand,
warmly expressed his gratitude, and then hastened away towards the
lists, to purchase from some of the armourers who had shops there, the
pieces of which he deemed himself in want, and Hepborne, for his part,
chose out another esquire to fulfil the duty of watching his
achievement in the chapel.
The heralds having put everything in such order as might bear
inspection, now came forth from the chapel, and marshalling the nobles,
knights, and ladies into a foot procession, they led them through the
enclosure to the western door, where they entered to behold the
spectacle. The sight was most imposing. Along both sides of the nave,
and all the way up to the screen of the choir, were placed stands, each
covered by a plate of copper, on which stood the tilting helmet,
surmounted by the wreath and crest of the knight. The helmet rested on
the upper part of the mantle, so as to support it by the pressure of
its weight, whence it was expanded with the lower part of it spread on
the ground, in such a manner that the achievement emblazoned on it in
dazzling colours was fully stretched before the eye. Behind it, on the
right side, stood the squire or page who was appointed to watch it, and
on the left stood the standard-bearer, supporting the banner or pennon
of his master.
“Advance, ladies, dames, and damosels,” cried the herald in a loud
voice, that made the groined roof re-echo; “advance and survey the
helmets, crests, and coat-armouries, and see whether thou mayest
peraunter descry the bearings of any traitor, malfaitor, or reviler of
the ladies; for if so be that such may be discovered by any, she shall
touch his crest, and both it and his achievements shall be thrust
hence, that he may have no tilting at this tournament. Advance, then,
and the herald shall descrive them in succession; and if any other
knight or achievement may yet appear this day before sunset, it is
hereby reserved to the ladies to exercise their right on him, if they
see fitting so to do.”
The herald now led the knights and ladies in procession up the right
side of the nave, around the transept, and returned down the left side
of the nave; and having thus given them a general view of the whole, he
led them around three times more, during which he accurately described
the name and titles of each knight to whom the successive crests and
achievements belonged. One or two achievements were touched by some of
the younger knights, who wished to prove the firmness of their seat,
before the day of tournament, by trial in a by-tilting, with some
antagonist of their own selection, or against whom they wished to
establish the superior charms of their lady-love; but the more
experienced warriors, who had already well proved their lances
elsewhere, reserved their efforts for the grand day when the tournament
was properly to begin.
The ceremony of surveying the crests and coat-armouries being now over,
the knights and ladies returned to their steeds, palfreys, and
attendants, and the whole were soon again in motion, though not in the
order or with the ceremony they had observed in their approach to the
lists, and to the Chapel of St. John’s. The procession was now broken
up into parties, and the Earl of Moray and his Countess, leading the
way with the Earl of Fife, all followed in gay disorder, with a less
chastened pace and less formal air. The ladies had freed their knights
from their temporary bonds, though they still held them by the mere
influence of their radiant eyes. The laughing Jane de Vaux went on in
the full enjoyment of her own triumph, and her face reflected the
smiles of her merry party, as she cantered joyfully over the Mead after
the Earl and Countess of Moray, to partake of a collation spread under
a large awning in front of the pavilions on the other side of the
river.
Sir Patrick Hepborne’s pleasure in this rural feat was damped by the
marked distance with which the Countess of Moray now treated him. He
fatigued himself with attempts to account for a conduct so different
from the kind and easy reception she had given him at first; and he was
still more shocked to observe, that even the Earl himself seemed to
have adopted somewhat of the same freezing exterior since he had last
parted with him in the court-yard. He tried to persuade himself that it
was in a great measure fancy in him, and that in reality it was to be
explained by the natural tone of dignity which the day demanded; and
with this explanation he was obliged to content himself.