CONCLUSION
Summary of investigation--Results arrived at 206-212
The mutual relations of _Perceval_ and _Lancelot_ stories
of primary importance in evolution of Arthurian romantic
cycle--Necessity for critical editions of these texts 212-214
APPENDIX
The _Lancelot_ section of D.L. 215-247
INDEX 248
THE LEGEND OF SIR LANCELOT DU LAC
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
To the great majority of English readers, those who are familiar with
the Arthurian legend through the pages of Malory and Tennyson, the name
which occurs most readily to their minds in connection with the court
and Table of King Arthur is that of Lancelot du Lac, at once the most
gallant servant of the king, and the secret lover of the queen. To many
the story of Lancelot and Guinevere is the most famous of all stories
of unlawful love.
True, of late years the popularity of Wagner's music has made their
ears, at least, familiar with the names of Tristan and Iseult. Still,
that Tristan and Iseult were ever as famous as Lancelot and Guinevere,
few outside the ranks of professed students of mediæval literature
would believe; still fewer admit that the loves of Arthur's queen and
Arthur's knight were suggested by, if not imitated from, the older,
more poetic, and infinitely more convincing, Celtic love-tale; that
Lancelot, as Arthur's knight and Guinevere's lover, is a comparatively
late addition to the Arthurian legend.
Yet so it is. I doubt if any scholar of standing would now argue that
Lancelot and his relation to the queen formed an integral portion of
the early tradition; if any, conversant with the literature of the
cycle, would reckon Lancelot among the original band of heroes who
gathered round the British king.
In the introduction to my studies on the Gawain legend, I remarked
that, if we desired to arrive at an elucidation of the Arthurian
problem as a whole, we must first begin with the elucidation of its
component parts--we must severally disentangle the legends connected
with the leading knights of the cycle before we can hope to understand
the growth and development of that cycle. When we have arrived at some
clear idea concerning the stories originally told of the Arthurian
heroes, and their relation to each other and to the king, we shall
then be in a better position to judge of the nature of the original
legend--whether it be mainly the product of literary invention, or in
its more important features, the work of mythical tradition. It is
not a matter of slight importance to ascertain to which of these two
categories the leading heroes of Arthurian romance belong.
In the case of Sir Gawain we were able to detect certain features
which, by their persistent recurrence in the great mass of tradition
connected with this knight, seemed to indicate a general recognition on
the part of the romance writers that they belonged to an early form of
his story, and as such were to be preserved even when but incompletely
understood. Further I pointed out the parallels existing between
certain of his most famous adventures and those recorded in early Irish
tradition, parallels which went far to prove, not merely the antiquity
of the feats ascribed to him, but their source in Celtic myth.
In the following studies I shall endeavour, in the same way, to trace
to its origin the legend of Lancelot du Lac, to discover what was the
tale originally connected with him, and, if possible, follow the steps
which led to the immense development of his popularity. I do not for a
moment suggest, any more than in the case of Gawain, the finality of
the results arrived at; but I hope at least to present the reader with
a sorely needed summary of the Lancelot legend, and to clear the ground
for further researches into his story.
In some ways the task before us is less difficult than that involved
in the examination of the Gawain legend; the literature connected with
Lancelot, if extensive, is not diffuse; by far the greater portion is
covered by the prose _Lancelot_ and the Grail Romances. On the other
hand the story, as compared with that of Gawain, is extraordinarily
deficient in characteristic features. The adventures ascribed to
Lancelot might just as well be placed to the credit of any other
knight: they are the ordinary stock-in-trade of the mediæval romancer.
Guinevere's lover he is, but the love-story is of the most conventional
character: the more it is studied the more clearly do the records
in which it is shrined appear the offspring of conscious literary
invention, and that invention of by no means a high order. He is
certainly no hero of prehistoric myth, solar or otherwise, as Gawain or
Perceval may well be; nor does he by force of sheer humanity lay hold
on our imagination, as does Tristan.
How then did Lancelot come into the Arthurian cycle? In the earliest
records of Arthurian legend he holds no place. Wace's _Brut_, the
French metrical version of the History of Geoffrey of Monmouth, written
about the middle of the twelfth century, gives the names of certain
of Arthur's knights, Gawain, Kay, Bedivere, Iwein, but never mentions
Lancelot. We have an account of Arthur's expedition to France, in the
course of which he slew Frollo outside the walls of Paris, an adventure
which the compiler of the Prose _Lancelot_ places during the war
against Claudas to recover Lancelot's patrimony, but in the _Brut_ this
expedition takes place at an early stage in Arthur's reign, and knows
nothing of Lancelot or Claudas.[1]
Dating apparently from the same period, the middle of the twelfth
century, is a bas-relief of the cathedral of Modena, representing a
female figure standing on the summit of a tower, towards which several
armed knights are approaching. Each knight is named, and we find
represented Arthur himself, Gawain, Kay, Ider, Carados, and a certain
Galuariun, who has not been identified. Lancelot is not among them.[2]
The Welsh Arthurian stories again know nothing of Lancelot, though
certain of them contain long lists of heroes of Arthur's court.[3]
So far as we can at present tell, the earliest mention of the knight is
that contained in the _Erec_ of Chrétien de Troyes, where in a long
list of the heroes of the Round Table, ranged according to merit (at
least in the case of the earlier names), Lanceloz del Lac is reckoned
third, the first two being Gawain and Erec.[4] In the German version by
Hartmann von Aue, he occupies the same place, but is called Lanzelot
von Arlac. Nothing more is related of him: he plays no rôle in the
story, he is a name, and nought else. In a later poem by Chrétien,
_Cligés_, the same position, third on the roll of heroes, is ascribed
to Lancelot, but here it is Perceval, and not Erec, who ranks second.
The hero of the poem, Cligés, appears at a tournament four successive
days, in different armour, and overthrows Segramor, Lancelot, and
Perceval, finally fighting an undecided combat with Gawain.[5] The
_Cligés_ reference is particularly noticeable, as the _motif_ of the
story is the love of the hero for the young wife of his uncle and
sovereign. In this connection the loves of Tristan and Iseult are often
referred to, but Lancelot and Guinevere never. It seems clear that
when Chrétien wrote this poem he did not know Lancelot as the lover of
Arthur's queen and the chief of Arthur's knights.
But in the poem which followed the _Cligés_, _Le Chevalier de la
Charrette_, Lancelot suddenly appears in both these characters,
Gawain's superior and the lover of Guinevere: no explanation of the
changed position is offered, but Chrétien takes for granted the
familiarity of his audience with the relations between the knight
and the queen. To add to the confusion, in the succeeding poem _Le
Chevalier au Lion_, Lancelot is only once referred to, in connection
with the _Charrette_ adventure, and is never mentioned as one of
the knights of Arthurs household; while in Chrétien's last poem, the
_Perceval_, he is altogether ignored.[6]
It is very difficult, indeed impossible, to date Chrétien's poems
with exactness. The only two which afford clear internal evidence on
the point, _Le Chevalier de la Charrette_ and _Le Chevalier au Lion_,
fall within the years 1164-1173. _Erec_ was the first of his Arthurian
poems, and between _Erec_ and the _Charrette_, certainly one work,
_Cligés_, and it may be several, intervened.[7]
Very probably the _Erec_ was written early in the decade, 1150-60,
and taken in conjunction with the negative evidence afforded by the
_Brut_ and the Italian bas-relief, it goes to prove that whereas the
name of Gawain, as connected with Arthur, was known by the end of the
eleventh century,[8] Arthurian tradition knew nothing of Lancelot till
the latter half of the twelfth; and that no mention of his relations
with Guinevere is found till between 1160-1170, that is, a decade after
the first mention of his name. It is, of course, a well-recognised
fact in the study of romance, that the date of a manuscript does not
fix the date of the story contained in it; a younger manuscript may
contain the same story under an older form. As a rule, the versions
contained in Chrétien's poems appear to present a fairly old form of
the stories they relate, saving in the case of Lancelot. About this
knight, Chrétien either knows nothing or he knows too much. The earlier
stages of his story he leaves unrecorded; yet an allusion in the
_Charrette_ poem[9] shows that he was not unacquainted with the legend
concerning his youth and upbringing. Two versions of this legend have
been preserved to us, one in verse and one in prose. In the following
chapter we will examine the older of these versions, and inquire into
the origin of our hero's name.
CHAPTER II
THE 'LANZELET' OF ULRICH VON ZATZIKHOVEN
The origin of the name _Lancelot_ has been a subject of considerable
debate among scholars, and has given rise to the most widely differing
explanations. M. de la Villemarqué, who was a warm advocate of the
Welsh origin of the Arthurian stories, derived the name from the French
_l'ancelot_, a youth or servant, which he held to be a translation of
the Welsh Melwas, or Maelwas. This solution was rejected by M. Gaston
Paris, in his study on the Lancelot poems,[10] in which he showed
that _ancelot_ was not a French common name, and that Maelwas did not
bear the signification attributed to it. Professor Rhys,[11] adopting
the theory of the Welsh origin of the name, which in its present form
he admitted only exists in Welsh literature as borrowed from French
or English sources, decided that it represented a Welsh variant of
Peredur, the root of this latter name being _Pâr_=_a spear or lance_.
'The characters,' says Professor Rhys, 'were originally the same,
though their respective developments eventually differed very widely.'
I doubt if this solution ever found any adherents except its author:
it is sufficient to remark that the derivation of Peredur, on which
it rests, is by no means universally accepted, and that Lancelot is in
no special way connected with a spear or lance.[12] It is certainly
true that the Lancelot story shows signs of having been affected by the
Perceval legend, but as we shall see the borrowings are restricted to
one special and purely continental form of the story.
M. Gaston Paris, in the study referred to above, suggested that
Lancelot might be either a Celtic name altered, or, more probably, the
substitution, by French poets, of a name of Germanic origin for one
of Breton form strange to the ears of their French audiences, _e.g._
it might be a diminutive form of _Lanzo_. This is also the conclusion
of Professor Zimmer.[13] The prefix _Lant_ is often found in names of
Frankish origin transferred to Breton ground: such names are Lando,
Landolin; Lanzo, Lanzolin, etc.
In the introduction to his edition of the _Charrette_, recently
published,[14] Professor Foerster announces his complete adhesion to
this view.
It certainly seems that the evidence points strongly to this
conclusion. The fact that Lancelot's name does not appear in the
earliest obtainable Arthurian documents shows that he did not
belong to the original 'stoff' of the cycle; the entire silence of
Welsh literature, and the practical silence of English vernacular
romances,[15] seem to show that he formed no part of the _insular_
Arthurian tradition. For my own part I unhesitatingly accept Professor
Foerster's dictum, '_Lancelot ist den Kymren gänzlich unbekannt, und
ist unter allen Umständen Kontinentaler[16] Herkunft_.'[17]
A weak point in the proposed Celtic solutions appears to me to be that
both entirely ignore the qualifying title _du Lac_, by which Lancelot
is invariably known. Neither M. de la Villemarqué nor Professor Rhys
appear to consider it of any special importance, yet if I mistake
not this is just the significant point of the Lancelot story, and
that which from the very outset differentiates it from the legends
connected with Peredur or Maelwas. From the moment of his appearance
in Chrétien's list of Arthur's knights to that in which the prose
_Lancelot_ records his death in the odour of sanctity, Lancelot is
Lancelot _du Lac_, and the earliest version of his story which we
possess amply justifies his claim to the title.
The poem of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven[18] is certainly later than either
the _Erec_ or the _Charrette_ of Chrétien, but the tradition it
embodies is anterior to the poem itself. Written in the opening years
of the thirteenth century, it is, as explicitly stated in the text, the
translation of '_daz welsche buoch von Lanzelete_,' brought to Germany
by Hugo de Morville, one of the hostages who in 1194 replaced Richard
of England in the prison of Leopold of Austria.[19] The date of the
original French version cannot, of course, be fixed. In any case it
must have preceded its introduction into Germany; judging from internal
evidence it represented an early and immature version of the Lancelot
legend. The story as related in the _Lanzelet_ is as follows: Lanzelet
was son to King Pant of Genewîs and his wife Clarine. By a revolt of
his people Pant was driven from his kingdom with his wife and child.
In his flight he came to a stream, and there, overcome by his wounds,
sank down and died. The queen had laid her child under a tree while she
tended her husband, and before she could reach it again a water-fairy
(_mer-feine_) came in a cloud of mist and carried off the infant. The
fairy was a queen, ruling over ten thousand maidens, who knew no man.
Her kingdom was called _Meide-lant_; there it was ever May-tide, and
her palace had such virtue that whoso abode one day within it might
never know sorrow till the day of his death. There the little Lanzelet
was brought up, in ignorance of his name and rank, till he reached
the age of fifteen, knowing nothing of knighthood, nor even how to
bestride a horse. Then eager to try his lot in the world outside he
demanded leave to ride forth. This the fairy granted, but refused to
tell him his name and parentage; he must first conquer the strongest
knight in the world, Iweret, of the fair wood Beforet.
She gave him rich armour, white as a swan, the best that might be, a
surcoat (_wafen-roc_) decked with golden bells; sword and shield, and a
goodly horse. But the lad did not know how to ride, so let the bridle
hang loose and held on by the saddle-bow. In this fashion he rode till
he met a knight, Johfrit de Liez, who rebuked him for his childish
bearing, and took him to his castle, where he was kindly welcomed by
the host's mother and her maidens, and instructed in riding and the use
of knightly weapons.
His next adventure is to ride with two knights to the castle of one
Galagandreiz. In the night the daughter of the host, condemned by her
father to perpetual virginity, offers her love to the three knights in
turn; is accepted by Lanzelet, who fights a duel with her father, slays
him, and weds the maiden. One day he rode forth seeking adventures, and
found a road which led him to the castle of Limors. The folk attacked,
and would have slain him, but for the intervention of Ade, niece to the
lord of the castle. Lanzelet is thrown into prison, and only escapes by
fighting single-handed, first with a giant, then with two lions, and
finally with the lord of the castle himself. Having slain this last, he
becomes the '_ami_' of the maiden Ade. (Whether he marries her or not
is not clearly stated. In any case we hear no more of his first wife,
the daughter of Galagandreiz.)
Meanwhile the fame of Lanzelet's exploits has penetrated to Arthur's
ears, and Gawain is sent to find the unnamed hero, and bring him to
Arthur's Court. They meet, and fight an undecided combat, terminated
by the arrival of a messenger with tidings of a tournament between
King Lot of Johenîs and Gurnemanz, _den fürsten wîs_. Lanzelet betakes
himself hither, wearing each day a different suit of armour, green, red
and white, overthrows many knights, including King Lot, whom he set
free out of friendship for Gawain, and without revealing himself, rides
away with Ade and her brother.
They come to a castle, Schâtel le Mort, the master of which, Mâbûz, is
a magician, and son to the fairy who had brought Lanzelet up. Lanzelet
rides to the castle, which has this property, that whoever crosses
its drawbridge at once loses all courage and hardihood. Lanzelet
falls under the spell, and is taken prisoner in the most ignominious
manner, much to the dismay of Ade, who rides off with her brother and
disappears from the story. The land of Mâbûz adjoins that of Iweret
of Beforet, who is in the habit of raiding his neighbour's territory.
Mâbûz, who is by nature a coward, determines that Lanzelet, whose fame
is well known to him, shall be his champion. He has him carried by his
men without the walls of the castle, when his natural courage at once
returns. He rides to a fountain, beside which hangs a brazen cymbal on
which he must strike three times with a hammer to summon his foe. In
the meantime Iblîs, the fair daughter of Iweret, has had a dream of
an unknown knight whom she meets beside the fountain; she rises early
to seek the scene of her dream, and finds the original of her vision
in Lanzelet. She beseeches him to carry her off without waiting for
the conflict, but Lanzelet refuses. Iweret arrives and a fierce fight
ensues, in which he is slain. Lanzelet weds Iblîs and becomes master of
Beforet.
A messenger now arrives from the Fairy of the Lake, revealing
Lanzelet's name and parentage (his mother, Clarine, was sister to
Arthur). The object of her theft of the child is now accomplished: she
desired to secure a champion who would free her son Mâbûz from his too
powerful enemy. Lanzelet decides to seek Gawain, whom he now knows to
be his kinsman. On their way they meet a squire who informs them that
the King Valerîn (or Falerîn, the spelling varies), has appeared at
Arthur's court and laid claim to Guinevere, on the ground that she had
been betrothed to him previous to her marriage with Arthur. If Valerîn
cannot find a champion to oppose him he will carry off the queen.
Lanzelet undertakes the combat, and defeats Valerîn.
(We must note here that Lanzelet's service to the queen is of a
_preventive_ character, _i.e._ he saves her from the possibility of
abduction, he does not rescue her after the abduction has taken place.)
Lanzelet then leaves his wife at court, and goes forth to seek the
castle of Plurîs, which he had passed on his journey from _Meide-land_
and the adventure of which he desires to test. There he is challenged
by one hundred knights, whom he successively overthrows, and weds the
queen (Ulrich says quaintly, '_ich enweiz ob erz ungerne tet, wan diu
königîn was ein schoene maget_, 5530-1). Iblîs remains at Arthur's
court, grieving for the disappearance of her husband, during whose
absence she successfully withstands the _Mantle_ test, an incident of
not infrequent occurrence in Arthurian romance.
Hearing that Lanzelet is a prisoner at Plurîs, Gawain, Karjet
(Gaheriet?), Erec, and Tristan go in search of him, and, by means of a
ruse, succeed in freeing him. The queen of Plurîs disappears from the
story.
_On their way to court they learn that, while engaged in hunting the
white stag, Guinevere has been carried off by Valerîn, and imprisoned
in a magic castle, surrounded by a dense thicket peopled with all kinds
of serpents. Tristan, 'der listige Tristan'[20] suggests that they
should seek the aid of Malduz[21] or Malduc, the magician, the Lord
of the Misty Lake (Genibeleten Se), who will enable them to penetrate
Valerîn's stronghold. Erec announces that neither he nor Gawain should
take part in the expedition as they have respectively slain Malduc's
father and brother. Arthur therefore sets forth accompanied by Karjet
(Gaheriet), Tristan and Lanzelet (this is the order), and are later
joined by Dodine le Sauvage. By the good offices of the enchanter's
daughter, to whom Arthur appeals, Malduc consents to aid them on
condition that Erec and Gawain are delivered up to him, to which these
heroes willingly consent. Malduc then, by means of spells, disperses
the serpents guarding Valerîn's castle, slays him and his men, and
wakens Guinevere from the magic slumber into which Valerîn has cast
her._
I have italicised this passage as extremely important for the criticism
of the story. It will be seen that so far from Lanzelet being the means
of Guinevere's escape, he plays practically no part in the story, all
he does is to accompany the king. The rescuer is Malduc; recourse to
him is suggested by Tristan and made possible by the self-sacrifice of
Gawain and Erec; but saving in the discussion as to whether Malduc's
terms shall or shall not be accepted, Lanzelet's name is not even
mentioned.[22]
Erec and Gawain are cast into prison by Malduc and nearly starved to
death, but are rescued by one hundred of Arthur's knights, headed by
Lanzelet and aided by a giant, Esealt der lange. They all return to
Arthur's court, where great feasts are held.
Iblîs tells her husband of a curious adventure which had befallen
one of the knights: how he had met in a forest a terrible dragon
which, speaking with a human voice, besought a kiss from the knight;
he refused and the dragon flew away lamenting. Lanzelet resolves to
test the adventure, rides to the forest, finds the dragon, and gives
the desired kiss. The monster bathes in a stream at hand, and becomes
a fair maiden, Elidiâ, daughter to the king of Thile; she has been
transformed into a dragon for transgressing the rules of _Minne_, and
condemned to remain in that form till kissed by the best knight on
earth. She remains at Arthur's court, where she is made judge of all
disputed questions relating to _Minne_.
Here the story of Lanzelet practically ends. He wins back his lands of
Genewîs without difficulty, promising to treat his subjects better than
his father did. He and Iblîs betake themselves to the heritage of the
latter, Beforet, where they receive Arthur and Guinevere with great
pomp. The poem concludes by telling us that they have four children,
three sons and one daughter, that they live to see their children's
children, and die both on the same day.
The poem of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven has scarcely received the attention
which, as a factor in the criticism of the legend, it undoubtedly
demands. The questions arising out of it are not only interesting,
but, as I shall presently show, in one instance at least, of the
very highest importance. The questions may be grouped as (_a_) those
relating to the structure and sources of the poem itself; (_b_) those
which affect its relation to the other Lancelot romances. For the
first it is obvious that we are dealing with a poem of very loose
construction; the various parts do not harmonise with each other, and
no attempt has been made to make them do so. Thus we have no fewer
than four love affairs attributed to Lanzelet, and in three out of the
four he weds the lady; yet these amours, one of which is subsequent
to his marriage with Iblîs, are dropped as of no account. Professor
Foerster[23] considers that this looseness of construction points to a
late date, and that the source of the _Lanzelet_ was a biographical
romance of the weakest order. According to Professor Foerster the
clearer the composition, the better knit the incidents, the older the
romance.
Now it seems to me that there are two orders of ill-constructed
romances, and that we shall do well to differentiate between them.
In one case we have a number of incidents of secondary character,
obviously borrowed or imitated from those occurring elsewhere, strung
together more or less cleverly on the thread of a hero's individuality.
The incidents are all to be found in other romances, and as a rule none
of them have any suggestion of Celtic or mythic origin. The literary
style is superior to the matter. Such romances are _e.g._ _Rigomer_,
_Torec_, _Le Chevalier à la Manche_. A very favourable example is
_Méraugis de Portlesguez_. These are all certainly late romances.
In the other case we have a romance even more ill-constructed, but
consisting not of incidents but of whole short tales, manifestly
independent of each other, and some of them of distinctly antique and
mythic character: the literary style is poor and the whole is less a
romance, properly speaking, than the material out of which a romance
can be evolved. This, I believe, marks an early stage of development,
and of this we have naturally but few specimens. The _Lanzelet_ is, I
believe, one.
If I mistake not, the groundwork is a series of _lais_, each complete
in itself, and having no connection with what precedes or what follows
it. It is in no real sense a biographical romance, though perhaps it
might be called a tentative effort in that direction. The _Mantle_
episode certainly formed a single _lai_; the _Fier Baiser_, now found
with other adventures, probably originally did so.[24] Certain of
the episodes, too, possess a distinctly archaic character, _e.g._ the
description of the fairy's kingdom as a isle of women where no man
penetrates, a conception much older than the _Fata Morgana_ of the
prose _Lancelot_; and the description of Guinevere's prison, the magic
slumber in a fair dwelling, _ein wünneclichez haus_, surrounded by a
dense thicket infested with serpents, is the sleeping beauty story in
its oldest 'other world' form.[25] The position of Gawain in the story
is that held by him in the earlier, pre-Lancelot romances.
I cannot accept the suggestion of a biographical _Lancelot_ from which
both the _Lanzelet_ and the _Charrette_ were drawn. If we remember
that the first mention of Lancelot in Arthurian romance can only be
traced to the second half of the twelfth century, it does not seem
probable that by 1164 (when, or about when, Chrétien wrote his poem) he
could have become the hero of a fixed biographical romance. Nor, the
_motif_ of his _liaison_ with Guinevere once introduced into the story,
is the compilation of such a version as the _Lanzelet_ subsequently
probable. Professor Foerster feels this difficulty, and suggests a
solution, which a little more consideration would have shown him to be
untenable. On page xlvi. of his introduction to the _Karrenritter_,
he says, '_wenn wirklich Kristian zuerst den Ehebruch eingeführt hat,
so ist doch die Annahme zulässig dass Verehrer Arturs und seiner Frau
diese neue ehrenrührische Erfindung zwar gekannt, aber mit Entrüstung
abgewiesen haben, um ja nicht des idealen Königs Ehrenschild zu
beschmutzen_.' But a few pages further on the writer himself refers
to the story of Guinevere and Mordred as told by Geoffrey[26] and
Wace. He must therefore be well aware that there can be no possible
question of Chrétien's having _introduced_ the _motif_ of Guinevere's
faithlessness; that is one of the oldest and most original features
of the Arthurian story. The question is _not_, 'Did the queen have a
lover?'--that was answered in the affirmative long before Chrétien's
day--but, 'When did Lancelot become her lover? Was it through the
version of the _Charrette_?' a very different matter.[27]
Taking into consideration the construction of the poem, and the
character of the contents, I think we are justified in considering the
composition of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven as a collection of _lais_ which
have not yet been worked over or taken final literary shape. When the
scattered Lancelot stories did this, it was under the influence of a
_motif_ foreign to the original legend, his love for Guinevere. How
that came to be introduced into the legend is a matter for separate
consideration, but I do not think there is room for doubt that it was
this introduction which determined the final and literary form of the
Lancelot story. All conflicting elements, such as the various love
affairs, were rejected and only the original germ retained.
And what was this germ? Authorities will no doubt differ. Some perhaps
will say it was the story of Guinevere's imprisonment and rescue, but
they must remember that in the _Lanzelet_ this is _not_ the work of
the hero. I think myself that the root of the Lancelot tale was simply
a Breton _lai_, relating the theft of a king's son by a water fairy:
this seems to be the one abiding and persistent element in the tale,
all else is uncertain and shifting. Here the hero is Arthur's nephew;
elsewhere he is but the son of an old ally; at one time his father is
a tyrant, '_chassé_' by his own people; again he is a noble king, the
victim of treachery and a foreign foe. Sometimes Lancelot's mother
lives to see him restored to his kingdom; sometimes she dies while he
is yet in the care of the fairy, and never sees her son again. He has
two cousins on the father's side, Bohort and Lionel, and a bastard
half-brother Hector; he has no relations on his father's side, but is
cousin to Gawain through his mother. He is Guinevere's lover; he is
not Guinevere's lover. He is unmarried; he is very much married--three
times at least! He has four children born in wedlock; he has but one
son, the offspring of a _liaison_. He is the most valiant knight of
Arthur's court; he is scarce worthy of mention. Among all this shifting
tangle and contradiction, there is but one thing, and one only, fixed
and certain, he is Lancelot _du Lac_. I do not see how we can avoid the
conclusion that in this record of his youth we have the one fixed point
of departure for all the subsequent unfoldings of romance.
Not that this story was always unvarying in its details, on the
contrary we find in it marked divergences. Thus in the _Lanzelet_
the motive of the theft is clear, the fairy desires a champion and
protector for her cowardly son; the motive in the prose _Lancelot_ is
not apparent; probably it was a mere capricious fancy for a beautiful
child.
And if the motive was not always clearly understood, still less so was
the character of the fairy. In fact she seems to have considerably
puzzled the mediæval romancers. In the first instance the story would
be excessively simple, she would probably be such a water-fairy as
we find in _Tidorel_, and Ulrich seems to have retained this idea
when he calls her a _Merfeine_ or _Merminne_, but as the _lai_ gained
popularity, and it became necessary to supply details as to her
kingdom, etc., it would be supplemented from other legendary sources.
Ulrich's own description, the land of ten thousand maidens where no
man penetrates, is manifestly the _Meide-land_ which in _Diu Krône_
Gawain visits, and which is universally admitted to be a remembrance
of the 'Isle of Women' of old Celtic tradition. It may have touched
the Lancelot _lai_ through the medium of the Gawain's story, but
as a 'property' of old Celtic belief it may well have been known
independently. I think it probable that this identification may explain
a very curious passage in _Diu Krône_, where Kei reproaches Lancelot
who has failed in the glove test in the following terms:
'_er hât daz vil rehte erspeht,
daz iz di gotinne
verkurt an ir minne,
diu iu zôch in dem sê_.'--ll. 24517-20.
Certain it is that while the queen of the 'Isle of Women' does not
appear to be addicted to child-stealing, she does entice, or abduct,
earthly knights to be her lovers. It is not impossible that a version
of the _Lancelot_ story, redacted by some one familiar with the real
character of the kingdom, may have represented him as the queen's
lover. It is also not impossible, were this the case, that the story of
the imprisonment of Guinevere in the other world, a story which, as we
shall presently see, must have existed at a very early date, may have
led to her being confused with the queen of that kingdom, and to the
transfer of Lancelot's affections from the one to the other.
The prose _Lancelot_ version is entirely different, and far less
archaic: there is no real lake, the appearance is but a _mirage_;
men are admitted; Lancelot has not only his cousins for companions,
but other knights as well. The lady herself is conceived of more as
a mortal versed in enchantment than as a fairy proper. In the _Suite
de Merlin_ she is identified with the Demoiselle Chaceresse, daughter
of the King of Northumberland;[28] and in both these romances, the
_Lancelot_ and the _Merlin Suite_, she is the lover and the betrayer of
Merlin. It may not be out of place to remark here that the tendency of
later romances, as exhibited in the _Suite_ and notably in Malory, is
to connect the Lady of the Lake rather with Arthur than with Lancelot.
It may be asked, how did so simple a _lai_ as we here postulate
attain so great a popularity? The incidents would be few, and the
characters at first probably anonymous.[29] Here, I think, we may
take into account a factor hitherto practically ignored, the music
of the _lais_. As we know they were intended to be sung, and each
was connected with its own melody. It would be a truism nowadays to
say that the success of a song depends less upon the words than upon
the music to which the words are set, and though less true of an age
in which the songs of the people were also its folk-tales, yet the
influence of music upon the development of popular legends is a point
we do ill to ignore. It may help us to solve certain puzzles. Certain
heroes of course represent what we may call the general stock-in-trade
of Aryan tradition: their names vary with the lands in which their
tales are told, but whether Cuchullain or Gawain, Siegfried or
Perceval, the hero represents a traditional tale which antedates any
special form of recital; such a tale would be assured of welcome, and
practically independent of musical aid. But in the case of Lancelot
we have no such prehistoric tradition, no striking parallels in early
legends. Previously unknown, he leaps into popularity, as it were, at
a bound. Even the most ardent adherent of Chrétien de Troyes cannot
appeal to the popularity of that writer to help us with a solution,
for his Lancelot poem, the _Charrette_, is but seldom referred to
in contemporary literature. Much of Lancelot's later popularity is
doubtless due to his rôle as the queen's lover; but how account for the
initial popularity which caused him to be chosen for that rôle? I can
only explain the phenomenon of a knight, whose very name is unknown
before the middle of the twelfth century, becoming before the end of
that century the leading hero of a cycle to which he was originally a
stranger, by supposing that there was some special charm in the _lai_
originally connected with him, by means of which his story took hold of
the public fancy. Had that charm been in the _lai_ itself, in word or
form, then I think it would have been preserved to us. We possess more
than one beautiful _lai_, the hero of which, originally independent
of the Arthurian cycle, became by virtue of his story admitted within
the magic precincts. Failing that, I think the charm must have lain
in the air to which it was wedded, and which so pleased the ears of
the hearers that they demanded its repetition, and lengthening, by
the addition of episodes foreign to the original tale. Thus other
_lais_, whose fate had been less happy, might for a time at least
win a spurious popularity, till the 'survival of the fittest,' which
operates in literature as elsewhere, discarded the weaker portions, and
fixed the outline of the story in the form we know. This theory may or
may not be correct, but I can suggest none other that will meet the
problems of the case; and at least it has the advantage of offering an
hypothesis which may be of use in other stories besides the one under
discussion.
But there is another point in the discussion of Ulrich's poem which
urgently demands attention. What is the connection between the
_Lanzelet_ and the _Parzival_ of Wolfram von Eschenbach? A connection
of some sort there is, and that a fairly close one. Take for instance
the passage describing the hero's departure from his magic home for the
world of men, a passage extending over two hundred lines (ll. 400-666).
He does not know how to sit his horse, how to hold the bridle,[30] or
use his weapons; is ignorant of his name and birth; is called _der
kindische man_ (l. 598), _der namenlôse tumbe_ (l. 2045), all features
which irresistibly recall Perceval to our mind, but are in no way
characteristic of Lancelot.[31]
The tourney at which Lancelot makes his first appearance at Arthur's
court has been undertaken between King Lot von Johenis and _Gurnemanz
den fürsten wîs_ (l. 2630). It commences with a vesper play:
'_engegen der vespereide
riten über jene heide,
dort zwêne, dâ her drî_.'--ll. 2855-7.
In the _Parzival_, Book II., we read of the tourney before
Kanvoleis that it began with a vesper play:
'_von Póytóuwe Schyolarz
und Gurnemanz de Grâhárz,
die tjostierten ûf dem plân.
Sich huop diu vesperîe sân,
hie riten sehse, dort wol drî._'--ll. 295-9.
In connection with which we may note that both Chrétien and Hartmann
von Aue spell the name of Gurnemanz with _o_, not with _u_, as does
Wolfram. Other names, some of them peculiar to Wolfram's version,
occur in the _Lanzelet_, such as Galagandreiss (Galogandres), also
found in Hartmann's _Erec_ though not in Chrétien; Iwân de Nonel, l.
2935 (_Parzival_, v. 312); Iblîs, l. 4060 (_Parzival_, xiii. 895).
Ulrich's Iblîs is connected with the cloister _jaemerlichen urbor_,
Wolfram's with _Terra de Lâbur_; Kailet, l. 6032 (_Parzival_, ii.
737); Maurîn, whose name in each case is similarly qualified, _mit den
lichten schenkeln her Maurîn_, l. 3052, _Mit den schoenen schenkeln
Maurîn_ (_Parzival_, xiii. 1069).[32] In the description of Iweret we
read, _einen wâfen roc fuort er und guldîn schellen dran er schein ein
engel niht ein man_, ll. 4428-30, which should be compared with the
description of Karnachkarnanz.
'_den dûhte er als ein got getân:
er'n het ê 'so lichtes niht erkant.
úfem tówe, der wâpenroc erwant.
mit guldîn schellen kleine_.'--_Parzival_, iii. 175 _et seq._
Now how are all these points of contact to be explained? Scholars are
agreed in placing the date of Ulrich's poem in the opening years of the
thirteenth century, therefore anterior to the _Parzival_. Did Wolfram
borrow from Ulrich? If it were a mere question of a name here and
there we might think so, but the points of contact amount to more than
this. We have the characteristics of Perceval postulated of Lancelot;
we have correspondence in details, even verbal identity; further, the
prose _Lancelot_, as we shall see, presents other points of contact
with Wolfram's poem in details where he differs notably from Chrétien.
It is not probable that Wolfram, who never alludes to any adventures
related in the _Lanzelet_, and to all appearance knows nothing of the
hero save the _Charrette_ adventure, should have borrowed from two such
widely different versions of his story. The fact that where Lancelot
appears to have borrowed from the _Perceval_ legend, the borrowed
matter is marked by characteristics special to one version of the story
is, to say the least, curious. If the _Lanzelet_ _really_ preceded the
_Parzival_--a philological question upon which I am not qualified to
pronounce an opinion--and Ulrich, as is generally supposed, closely
followed his source, only one conclusion seems possible, _i.e._ that
that source knew, and quoted, the poem of Kiot. It is significant that
in the mention of Gurnemanz he is spoken of as _den fürsten wîs_, which
shows that to the writer he was not a mere name, but a well-known
character, distinguished by the qualities which mark him in the
_Parzival_.
My own impression is, however, that Ulrich knew Wolfram's poem, or at
least part of it (between the _Lanzelet_ and the last three books of
the _Parzival_ there do not appear to be any points of contact). There
are numberless small coincidences in language and phrase, trifling
in themselves, but which as a whole seem to argue a familiarity with
the words of the _Parzival_. Such a correspondence is more likely on
the part of Ulrich than on that of Wolfram, who by his own confession
could not read or write, and must have become orally familiar with his
source. But it is quite clear that a critical comparison of the two
works is urgently needed, both in the interests of Arthurian tradition
and of German literature. The popular impression, _i.e._ that Wolfram
merely borrowed a few names from the _Lanzelet_, will not stand the
test of investigation. Two conclusions alone are open, from which we
must make our choice: either to admit the existence, beyond any doubt,
of the French poem, other than Chrétien's, which Wolfram declared to
be his source;[33] or to place the date of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven some
few years later than that usually assigned to him. We await the aid of
some one of the many competent scholars Germany possesses to solve this
puzzle for us.
CHAPTER III
LANCELOT ET LE CERF AU PIED BLANC
Before examining Chrétien's poem of the _Charrette_, which, whatever
the date of composition, belongs by the nature of its contents to the
later stages of Arthurian tradition, it will be well to direct our
attention to a short episodic poem, undoubtedly French in origin,
but, so far as we at present know, only to be found in a translation
incorporated in the vast compilation known as the Dutch _Lancelot_.[34]
The contents of the poem are as follows: A maiden arrives at Arthur's
court, attended by a brachet. She is the messenger of a queen who
demands a champion to accomplish the following feat: in her land is a
stag with one white foot, guarded by seven lions; she promises her hand
to whoever will slay the lions, and present her with the white foot of
the stag. The brachet will be guide to any knight who may undertake the
adventure. Kay announces his intention of being the first to try his
fortune, and sets out, guided by the dog. After riding some distance
he comes to a deep and swiftly flowing river, which the dog promptly
swims. Kay's courage, however, fails him at the sight of the water,
and he turns back, feigning a sudden illness, which had prevented him
from pursuing the quest. Lancelot then determines to try his fortune:
he sets out, passes the river in safety, and is attacked by the seven
lions. After a fierce conflict, in which he is desperately wounded, he
succeeds in slaying them, and secures the white foot. At this moment a
stranger knight appears, and Lancelot, exhausted by the fight, gives
him the foot, bidding him carry it to the queen, and say that the
knight who has achieved the adventure lies sorely wounded, and prays
her aid. The knight promises this, but having received the foot, deals
Lancelot a treacherous blow with his sword, and leaving him for dead
rides off to the castle, and claims the reward due to the slayer of the
lions.
The queen is much distressed, as the knight is both ugly and cowardly,
and summons her lords and vassals to ask their advice. They recommend
that the marriage be postponed for fifteen days, greatly to the
disappointment of the knight.
Meanwhile Gawain has become anxious at the non-return of Lancelot, and
sets forth to seek him. He finds him apparently dead, revives him, and
conveys him to the dwelling of a physician, whom he instructs as to the
proper treatment,[35] and then rides himself to the court to punish the
treacherous knight.
He arrives on the eve of the marriage, accuses the knight of his
treachery, challenges him to single combat and slays him. The queen
is much rejoiced at the news. Gawain brings Lancelot to the queen,
who regards him as her future husband; but, on the excuse of calling
together his kinsmen for the marriage, Lancelot contrives to leave the
country, 'not for anything in the world would he have been faithless to
Guinevere.' He and Gawain return to Arthur's court, and the queen is
left vainly awaiting her bridegroom.
This conclusion is of course obviously lame and ineffective. The hero
should wed the maiden, whose hand was the previously announced reward
of successful accomplishment of the feat. That Lancelot undertakes the
adventure at all can only be explained by supposing that the tale was
connected with him previous to his being generally recognised as the
queen's lover.
That he was not the original hero of the tale is proved by the fact
that we possess a Breton _lai_ which relates the story in a better and
more coherent form, ascribing it to a certain _Tyolet_, whom we do not
meet in any of the later Arthurian romances.[36]
The main points in which the versions differ are: (_a_) the maiden who
comes to Arthur's court is herself the prize of the victor. This is
a better version, as it simplifies the action, and accounts for the
anxiety felt at the absence of the knight, who should have returned to
court at once on achieving the venture. (_b_) Gawain's action (which is
the same in both poems, with the exception that instead of his slaying
the traitor, Tyolet arrives in time to prevent a combat) is clearly
explained; the brachet, which has acted as guide, returns alone to
court, and leads Gawain to the scene of the combat. In the _Lancelot_
version it is difficult to understand how Gawain, who had no guide,
finds his friend so quickly. (_c_) Tyolet weds the maiden, and returns
with her to her own land, where he becomes king.
Here we have an unmistakable instance of a _lai_ originally told of
another hero being transferred to Lancelot.
The story itself, however, seems to be older than its connection
with either hero; even in the _Tyolet_ version, superior as it is to
the _Lancelot_, the real meaning of the tale appears to have been
overlooked or misunderstood. In its original form I think it was
clearly a transformation tale. The stag was the enchanted relative of
the princess who sought the hero's aid, and the spell which detained
him in animal form could only be broken by the cutting off of the foot.
We know that the smiting off of a member of the body (generally the
head) is a well-recognised form of terminating an enchantment, and in
this case the proposed solution would explain what, in the tale as it
stands, appears a piece of unredeemed brutality.
A peculiarity of the _Tyolet_ version is that it falls into two
well-marked divisions, the first recounting the upbringing of the
hero, and his arrival at Arthur's court, a tale bearing a marked
affinity to the Perceval _Enfances_; the second being the 'white-foot'
adventure. Now in this first part the hero, going into the woods in
search of game, sees and follows a stag, which is transformed into a
man before his astonished eyes. I suspect that this episode formed the
connecting link between the two sections of the _lai_, the real meaning
of the latter stag not having been lost when the two were united. A
confirmation of this theory is found in the fact that one of the
numerous 'shape-shifting' changes of Merlin was into the form of a stag
with a white fore-foot.[37] I also think this may well be the origin
of the mysterious white stag guarded by lions which meets us so often
in later Arthurian story. In the _Queste_ stag and lions change into
Our Lord and the Four Evangelists, thus preserving the transformation
character.
But whatever the original character of the story, it has, in the form
in which we now possess it, become affected by _a motif_ extremely
popular in mediæval times, that of the _False Claimant_. The leading
characteristics of this widely spread tale may be summed up as follows.
The hero at great risk to himself performs a feat, and possesses
himself of a proof (previously agreed upon) that he has done so. The
traitor comes on the scene, possesses himself of the proof (either
attempting to slay the hero himself or believing him to be already
dead), and claims the reward; not knowing that the hero has possessed
himself of a further proof of his deed. The hero, left for dead,
recovers, and appearing at the critical moment, confutes the traitor by
the production of the second and decisive proof.
Of this story practically countless variants exist; Mr. E. S. Hartland,
in his _Legend of Perseus_, vol. iii., has tabulated a large number
gathered from all parts of the world. The most general version appears
to be that in which the feat consists in the slaying of a dragon, to
be testified by the production of the head. The hero, not content with
cutting off the head, also cuts out the tongue, and is thus enabled to
confute the traitor, who has omitted to look within the monster's jaws.
It will be noted that neither in the _Tyolet_ or _Lancelot_ versions
does the hero possess such a proof: in the first instance the impostor
is put to shame by Tyolet's inquiry as to who slew the lions; in the
second Gawain settles the matter by slaying the traitor. This lack of
an important feature of the original tale seems to indicate that the
_lai_ in its primitive form did not belong to this group of stories,
though from the character of the feat related the borrowing of features
from so widely known a folk-tale was almost natural development.
A very good example of the _False Claimant_ is found in some versions
of the _Tristan_ legend, notably the poems of Gottfried von Strassburg,
and his source, Thomas of Brittany: very few of the prose versions have
retained it.[38]
M. Gaston Paris seems inclined to connect the 'white-foot' adventure
with this. Ultimately, of course, the stories must go back to a common
source; but the _Cerf au pied blanc_ presents the adventure in so
general a form, that one can hardly connect it with any special variant
of this very widespread folk-tale. The _Tristan_ variant is, as I have
said above, an especially good example, with many well-marked features,
none of the more characteristic of which are reproduced in the _lai_.
But we have in the same vast compilation the account of another
adventure of the same character, also ascribed to Lancelot, which does
appear to be directly drawn from the Tristan story.
In _Morien_[39] we learn that Morien, Gawain, and Lancelot, seeking
for Perceval and Agloval, come to a hermit's cell at four cross-roads.
They ask whither the roads lead, and learn that that on the right
hand leads to a waste land devastated by the ravages of a devil in
the form of a beast. Lancelot determines to brave the adventure and,
in spite of the remonstrances of the hermit, chooses this road. The
writer of the tale informs us (but it should be kept in mind that the
hermit _does not_ tell Lancelot) that the lady of the country has
promised her hand to whoever will slay the monster. A knight who has
long loved her, but is too cowardly to dare the venture, keeps a watch
upon all those who may attack the beast, with the secret intention of,
if possible, slaying the victor and taking the credit of the deed to
himself. Lancelot arrives at the monster's lair, which is surrounded by
the bones of men and animals slain by the fiend. No description of the
creature is given, but it is quite clear from the incidental details
that the writer conceived of it as a dragon; Lancelot's sword and spear
can make no impression on its skin; its claws pierce through shield
and hauberk and score deep wounds on the knight's body; it breathes
forth venom, which would have slain Lancelot but for the ring he wore
(no doubt the ring given him by the Lady of the Lake); finally, as it
opens its jaws to devour him, the knight thrusts his spear down its
throat and pierces the heart. The monster utters a loud cry, which is
heard over two miles off, and expires. The traitor knight, hearing the
cry, knows that the monster is slain and rides to the spot. Lancelot
is binding up his wounds; the traitor approaches, making feint to
aid him, deals him a treacherous blow and leaves him for dead; then
he cuts off the foot and is riding away when Gawain appears upon the
scene and challenges him. Lancelot recovers from his swoon in time
to bid Gawain slay the traitor, which he does. Before Lancelot can
recover from his wounds news comes that the King of Ireland has invaded
Arthur's kingdom, and is besieging the queen in one of her castles.
Lancelot and Gawain go at once to her aid, and nothing is heard of the
lady whose hand was to have been the reward of the venture. But, as I
have noted above, there is no sign that Lancelot knew anything of the
promised guerdon; his conduct is therefore more intelligible and less
unchivalrous than in the _lai_.
The special points of contact with the _Tristan_ story are these:
(_a_) The nature of the animal, which is undoubtedly in both cases a
dragon. (_b_) The hero undertakes the adventure unsolicited. Tristan
lands in Ireland, hears of the dragon's ravages and goes off secretly
to slay it. He has no thought of winning Iseult for himself. In both
versions of the _lai_ the lady herself invites the adventure. (_c_)
The character of the traitor: in both _Tristan_ and _Morien_ he is
represented as being too cowardly to dare the feat himself but as
watching his opportunity to rob a brave man of the fruit of his valour.
In the _lai_ variants 'opportunity makes the traitor'; in these two
versions the traitor is on the watch for his opportunity. (_d_) In both
cases he is attracted to the spot by the death-cry of the monster. The
appearance of Gawain, on the other hand, the death of the traitor, and
the fact that it is the _foot_ and not, as it should be, the _head_,
which is cut off, clearly show the influence of the _lai_.
The ending is, of course, unsatisfactory, and it is curious that the
writer, who in the details noted above clearly shows a knowledge of
the excellent and complete version of the _Tristan_ legend, should
not have finished his story more in accordance with that tale. It
is not impossible that the original adventure as contained in the
_Morien_ poem _was_ the stag adventure, and that the compiler of the
Dutch _Lancelot_, who evidently possessed an extensive collection of
Arthurian documents, knowing that he was going to relate the story
later on, purposely altered the earlier portion more in accordance
with the dragon adventure of the Tristan tale, retaining the later
portion for the sake of the rôle played by Gawain, who is one of his
heroes, and who, it is scarcely necessary to say, does not appear in
the _Tristan_ legend. Unfortunately we have no other version of the
_Morien_ save that of the Dutch _Lancelot_, so the question must remain
undetermined; all we can say with certainty is that the adventure
as there related is combined from two distinct variants of the same
original _motif_.
An interesting feature of the _Morien_ story is that it shows the
_Lancelot_ legend influenced by the _Tristan_ at a point practically
unconnected with the central _motif_ of that story, the loves of
Tristan and Iseult.
The story of the _cerf au pied blanc_ as attributed to Lancelot does
not appear to have obtained any popularity. In no variant of the prose
_Lancelot_ is it related, or even alluded to; the version preserved by
the Dutch compiler is, so far, the only one that has been discovered.
But existing as it does, it clearly points to a date at which the
Lancelot story was still told in isolated _lais_, and before the
introduction into the legend of his love for Guinevere. Once fixed as
Guinevere's lover, we can understand how the tale dropped out of the
completed legend: alter the ending as they might the obstinate fact
would remain that Lancelot voluntarily undertook an adventure the
successful achievement of which would necessitate him becoming the
husband of a stranger maiden; it was an _impasse_ from which he could
only escape at the cost of an insult to one or the other queen, and
very wisely the compilers of his legend ignored the story.
It also seems probable that the original character of the tale itself
was not properly understood by its compilers: an evidence, if evidence
were really needed, of the extreme antiquity and, if I may use the
word, 'unlocalised' character of the elements which went to compose the
Arthurian cycle.
CHAPTER IV
LE CHEVALIER DE LA CHARRETTE
With the poem, the title of which heads this chapter, we reach a fresh
stage in the Lancelot tradition, and one which, though it has already
been the subject of acute and scholarly discussion, still presents many
points of difficulty.[40]
The story related in the poem is so well known, and the poem itself
so accessible, that it is unnecessary to do more than summarise the
leading features. It is, as we all know, the story of Guinevere's
abduction by Meleagant, and her rescue by Sir Lancelot.
A knight (Meleagant) appears at Arthur's court, and boasts of the
Breton subjects he holds in captivity. Arthur can free them if he
will commit Guinevere to the care of a knight who will fight a single
combat with him; if he (Meleagant) be defeated, all the prisoners shall
be freed; if he be victor, Guinevere, too, is his captive. Kay, by
demanding from Arthur a boon, the nature of which is unspecified, and
which the king grants before hearing, obtains permission to escort
the queen. Gawain follows, meets Kay's horse, riderless and covered
with blood, and is then confronted by an unnamed knight (Lancelot),
who begs the loan of a steed. Gawain gives him his, and follows on a
spare steed as quickly as possible, only to find traces of a sanguinary
conflict, and his own horse slain. He overtakes Lancelot, who, meeting
a dwarf driving a cart, mounts after a momentary hesitation, and the
two continue the pursuit together. Meleagant's land (or rather that
of his father Baudemagus) is surrounded by deep water, crossed by two
bridges, one of a sword-blade, the other under the water. Lancelot
chooses the first, crosses in safety, fights with Meleagant, and frees
Guinevere, who, however, receives him coldly, being offended at his
momentary hesitation before mounting the cart. Lancelot, in despair,
tries to commit suicide; Guinevere, hearing a rumour of his death, is
overwhelmed with grief, and on his next appearance receives him with
the greatest favour. They pass the night together, Lancelot gaining
access to the queen's chamber by means of a heavily barred window,
and severely wounding his hands in wrenching asunder the bars. The
traces of blood on the bed-clothes cause the queen to be accused
of a _liaison_ with Kay, who, severely wounded, is sleeping in the
ante-chamber. Lancelot undertakes to prove Guinevere's innocence by a
combat with Meleagant, which shall take place at Arthur's court; but,
having set out to seek Gawain, is treacherously decoyed into prison
by his foe. Meleagant, by means of forged letters, persuades the
queen that Lancelot has returned to court, whither Guinevere repairs,
escorted by Gawain, who has meanwhile arrived on the scene. Lancelot,
who has been released on parole by his jailor's wife, to attend a
tourney, is subsequently walled up in a tower by Meleagant, from which
prison he is released by his rival's sister, and reaching court at the
last moment, overcomes and slays Meleagant.[41]
The capital importance of this poem lies in the fact that here, for
the first time, so far as our present knowledge goes, we meet with
those relations between Lancelot and the queen which form so important
a part of the completed Arthurian legend. Are these relations, then,
an invention of Chrétien, or were they already familiar to the public
for whom he wrote? Here I shall only treat this question incidentally,
deferring a full study of the point to a subsequent chapter; the
questions which mainly concern us relate rather to the nature (_a_) of
the story itself, (_b_) of Chrétien's share in its development.
In the introductory lines we learn that the poem was written at the
instance of the Countess Marie de Champagne, who supplied '_Matiere et
san_.' I take this to mean that she only supplied a verbal outline of
the story, and left it to Chrétien to fill in details. Thus, as regards
source, Chrétien stands in a different position in this poem than in
his other romances. In every other instance he had either in _livre_ or
_conte_[42] (which latter I take to be the recital of a professional
story-teller) a fixed source from which he drew his tale.
The internal evidence agrees with these indications: the _Charrette_
is far inferior to Chrétien's other work; the construction is feeble
in the extreme, and bristles with contradictions and obscurities. Why,
for instance, does Meleagant suggest that Guinevere shall be put in
charge of a knight and follow him? Why not challenge a single combat at
the court, where there would be a public to see that the rules of such
combat were observed? It may be that the original scene of abduction
was a wood, and this is an awkward attempt to combine a later version,
_i.e._ Arthur's court, with a primitive feature; but in any case it
starts the story on wrong lines. Gawain (who is also mounted) follows
_directly_ on Lancelot's track, but before he comes up with him there
has been time for a fierce conflict to take place. These conflicts with
a valiant knight do not as a rule terminate so quickly, even though the
odds be unequal! Gawain, who of course knows Lancelot well, apparently
fails to recognise him, even when he unhelms for supper. The maiden of
the castle warns them against sleeping in a certain bed; whoever does
so will scarce escape with his life. Lancelot braves the adventure, but
the next morning when he is found safe and well, the lady expresses
no surprise. We are told that the maiden whom Lancelot frees from the
knight at the ford knows him and _is afraid he will know her_, but no
explanation of this is vouchsafed, and her identity is not revealed. We
are expressly told that the kingdom of Gorres is surrounded by a water
which none may pass, but before Lancelot even arrives at the water and
bridge he is in the kingdom of Gorres, peopled by captive Bretons. No
explanation is given of how Guinevere knew of Lancelot's hesitation to
mount the cart; there was no witness but the dwarf, and if he noted so
momentary an indecision he must have had a curiously keen appreciation
of the rules of _Minne_; and how did he come to see Guinevere? But
perhaps it was a case of telepathy. In the same manner Kay becomes
mysteriously aware of what has passed between Lancelot and the queen.
And these instances might be indefinitely multiplied. Chrétien's
_Lancelot_ is scarcely less incoherent than Ulrich von Zatzikhoven's;
and we begin to wonder if there were not some inherent weakness in the
legend itself, which rendered it impossible for any one to give an
intelligible account of the hero's proceedings.[43]
I think it is clear that the decided inferiority of the _Charrette_ as
compared with Chrétien's other poems is due to the deficiencies of his
source. He was left in the lurch, and his genius was not of a nature
to extricate him from his difficulties. When he had before him a story
the form of which was already practically fixed, and which required
polishing rather than rearrangement, Chrétien could put it into
charming language, and make a finished and artistic piece of work out
of a simple original. I should express the charm of his work as being
that he clad the folk-tale in the garments of the court, and taught
it to move easily in its foreign trappings. But when his materials
were scanty, and he was called upon to supplement them from his own
imagination, he was unequal to the task; and he was artist enough to
know it, and to leave unfinished a work which did him little credit,
while he turned to one the nature of which precisely suited his special
talent. It is not, I think, without significance that the best of
Chrétien's poems follows immediately on his worst. He had a reputation
to retrieve, and he did it gallantly in the _Yvain_.
Nor is Chrétien really successful in depicting lovers as lovers: they
are little more than lay figures; they talk at great length, and
indulge in analysis of their feelings, expressed in the most graceful
and ingenious language; but one
'_Iseut ma drue, Iseut m'amie,
En vous ma mort, en vous ma vie!_'
is worth all Chrétien ever wrote on the subject; the breath of the god
is not in it. Yet, so far as the _Charrette_ goes, this is scarcely
to be laid to his blame. Nowhere, save perhaps in one chapter of
Malory, is there the least ring of reality in the loves of Lancelot and
Guinevere. They go through all the prescribed gestures of their rôle
with admirable precision. Guinevere is by turns gracious, disdainful,
frantically jealous, and repentant of her jealousy; Lancelot is
courteous, humble, despairing, hopeful: their relation to each other
is all that _Minne dienst_ can require between a knight and his lady,
but nowhere in the whole wearily drawn-out story does the real, pent-up
human feeling break through. We can never imagine these two taking one
another by the hand and wandering off into the wilderness, content, and
more than content, with each other's presence. The story of Lancelot
and Guinevere is artificial, not natural; it demands the setting of
the court, not of the woodlands. Only in the passage where Malory
describes their parting do they, for a moment, become real; and the
effect produced is probably due to the simplicity of the old knight's
language, and the virile force of the English tongue.
Nor do I think that these relations are due to Chrétien. He treats them
as an already established fact, well known to his readers, and needing
no explanation. Certain episodes of the poem, the finding of the comb,
the testing of the knight's fidelity to the queen by the lady in whose
castle he passes the night, presuppose a state of things generally
familiar. Every one knows who Lancelot is; every one will know why he,
and no other knight, shall rescue the queen.
That there was a previous story of Guinevere's rescue from imprisonment
under analogous circumstances is quite clear: the references found in
the Arthurian romance are too numerous, and too archaic in form to
be derived from a poem so late in date, so artificial in character,
and so restricted in popularity as the _Charrette_. Of this story we
have at least three distinct accounts: (_a_) that given by Ulrich von
Zatzikhoven, where the 'other-world' character of the imprisonment
is strongly marked, but the rescue is the work of an enchanter, and
not of Arthur or any of his knights; (_b_) that given in the _Vita
Gildæ_, when the abductor is Melwas, king of _Æstiva Regis_ (Somerset),
the place of imprisonment Glastonbury, and there is again no special
rescuer, Arthur marches at the head of his armies to her relief, but it
is the intervention of St. Gildas and the Abbot of Glastonbury which
brings about the desired result; (_c_) the account given in the poem
under discussion.[44]
Of these three variants the version of the Lanzelet stands by
itself; it represents the 'other-world' under an entirely different,
and probably more primitive, aspect, and makes no effort at
localisation.[45] The other two variants fall together, Melwas, the
king of _Æstiva Regis_, which is admittedly Somerset=Meleagant of
Gorres, whose chief city is _Bade_=Bath, also in Somerset. These
later versions have been localised, and I think it is clear that the
localisation took place on English soil, _i.e._ it is an insular and
not a continental variant.
Now, from the very nature of the story it is clear that in its
_earliest_ forms it would not be attributed to any special locality,
and therein the _Lanzelet_ version again appears to be the elder;
further, the variants must have arisen at a time when it was clearly
understood that, however they might apparently differ, Valerîn's
thorn-girt dwelling and Meleagant's water-circled castle meant one
and the same thing, _i.e._ that both were recognised methods of
describing the 'other-world.' In this connection it is instructive to
recall the versions of Brynhild's wooing by Siegfried; her residence
is universally admitted to be an 'other-world' dwelling, and we find
it depicted under forms closely corresponding with the variants of
the Guinevere story; _e.g._ Waberlohe (_Volsunga saga_)=Valerîn's
hedged magic slumber; Castle surrounded by water (_Thidrek saga_) =
Meleagant's stronghold; Glasberg (_Folk-songs_)=Glastonbury. The
parallelism is significant.[46]
It is quite clear, I think, that such a story can be in no way ascribed
to the invention of a poet living towards the end of the twelfth
century, but must be of very much earlier date. Chrétien was dealing
with a late variant of a primitive and very widely known theme. But
could this variant, which, as seems probable, only reached him through
the medium of a tale related by the Countess Marie of Champagne, have
come from England, to which country the localisation of Glastonbury,
Somersetshire, and Bath point? It is quite possible. We must remember
who Marie de Champagne was: she was a princess of France, the daughter
of King Louis VII. and Eleanor of Aquitaine, who, on her divorce from
the French king, married Henry of Normandy, afterwards Henry II.
of England. That is, at the time Chrétien wrote, the mother of his
protectress was Queen of England and wedded to a sovereign who took
a keen and personal interest in all that concerned King Arthur. The
_possibility_ of transmission is as clear as daylight; the question
of course is, Would Marie be inclined to take advantage of it? The
relations between her father and his divorced wife were certainly
curious, as Louis made no objection to the marriage of the eldest son
of Henry and Eleanor with his daughter by his second marriage, but
whether there was intercourse between mother and daughter I have not
been able to discover. But the question ought to be easily solved by
some historical specialist who has made a study of that period. The
point is interesting and important, and it is to be hoped some one will
clear it up for us.
A question of secondary interest is whether Chrétien's poem is the
source of contemporary and later allusions to the story. Of such
allusions, or rather versions, we have two of special importance, that
contained in Malory's compilation, and that given by Hartmann von Aue,
in his _Iwein_. With regard to the former, I can only say that though
I am in a position to offer new and important evidence with regard to
the manuscript Malory used, and his method of composition, yet that
evidence leaves the _Charrette_ question unsolved. Of _direct_ evidence
there is none; the _indirect_ and _inferential_ evidence tends to
show that Malory's source was _not_ the poem of Chrétien de Troyes.
The two points on which we can be certain are, (_a_) that Malory did
not know the earlier part of the prose _Lancelot_ at all, that his
manuscript began at a point subsequent to the _Charrette_ adventure;
and (_b_) that he does not invent adventures, and but rarely details.
Dr. Sommer's conclusions, as set forth in his _Study on the Sources of
Malory_, are founded on very insufficient premises, and will need to
be thoroughly revised to bring them into accordance with our present
knowledge. This question I shall discuss fully in a later section. The
_Iwein_ version is of great importance, and though I have previously
referred to it,[47] yet in the light of Professor Foerster's strongly
repeated assertion that Hartmann knew no other version of the story
than that given by Chrétien, I think it is worth while going over the
evidence again.
It must be remembered that Hartmann's _Iwein_ is a translation of
Chrétien's _Chevalier au Lion_, and though rather more diffuse, follows
its source closely. In the French poem which, as we have noted above,
immediately succeeded the _Charrette_, Chrétien deftly introduces more
than one allusion to Guinevere's abduction. He says that Guinevere
has been carried off by a knight _d'estrange terre_, who went to the
court to demand her; but he would not have succeeded in carrying her
off had it not been for Kay, who deceived or deluded (_anbricona_) the
king into putting the queen in his charge (ll. 3916-39). In another
place, he says that the king, '_Fist que fors del san Quant aprés
lui l'an anvoia. Je cuit que keus la convoia Jusqu'au chevalier qui
l'an mainne_' (ll. 3706-11). Now, let us suppose that, as Professor
Foerster insists, Hartmann had not read the _Charrette_ and knew no
other version of the story, what would he, who knew French well, and
translates without blunders and confusion, understand by this? We must
note particularly what Chrétien tells and what he omits. He distinctly
says that the knight came to the court and demanded the queen (the
real version of the poem is less blunt, as we have seen); that Arthur,
deluded, put the queen in Kay's charge to lead her to the knight, and
that they followed him. He does _not_ say that the whole catastrophe
came about through Arthur's granting a boon before he knew in what it
consisted; he implies that the folly lay in Arthur's sending the queen
after the knight, not in the circumstances which forced him to do so.
Now what does Hartmann say? In his version a knight appeared before
Arthur and demanded a boon, the nature of which he refused to specify
beforehand. Arthur granted it. It was that he should carry off the
queen. This he did. The knights armed and followed. Kay was the first
to overtake him, and was struck from his horse with such violence that
his helmet caught in a tree and he hung suspended. He was not carried
off captive. One after another all the knights are vanquished, and the
queen carried off. Gawain is not at court; he returns the next day, and
goes in search of the queen. Lancelot is not mentioned throughout; and
the inference is that Gawain frees her.
What is specially noticeable in this account is that Hartmann agrees
with Chrétien in the very feature which the French poet does _not_
specify, _i.e._ the cause of the queen's abduction--a boon rashly
granted, though he transfers the asking from Kay to the knight; while
he differs from Chrétien in the feature which he _does_ specify, _i.e._
that Kay takes Guinevere _after_ the knight. Further, he adds details
which would clear up some of the inconsistencies in Chrétien's own
account: _i.e._ if Gawain were not present at the time, and all the
knights followed one after the other and were defeated by Meleagant,
we can quite understand that when Gawain returned the next day and
followed on the trail, he _would_ find traces of the severe and bloody
conflict for which Chrétien's version leaves no room. On the face of
it, Hartmann's version is much the more logical and coherent of the
two. I have remarked above on the extreme awkwardness of the action at
the outset of the story; that Meleagant should carry off Guinevere by a
ruse similar to that employed by Gandîn in the _Tristan_ poems is far
more in accordance with mediæval tradition. If Hartmann's divergence is
a mere 'invention,' he not only deserves praise for his sagacious skill
in constructing a story,[48] but excites admiration for the acuteness
which enabled him to detect the leading _motif_ of the adventure to
which his source afforded absolutely no clue.
Wolfram von Eschenbach's references to the _Charrette_ adventure are
curious; at first sight it seems certain that he is referring to
Chrétien's poem, but on closer examination the matter is not so clear.
Thus he says that Lancelot crossed the sword-bridge, fought with
Meljakanz (Meleagant), and freed Guinevere--all of which agree with
Chrétien.[49] But, on the other hand, he mentions Kay's suspension
on the tree (Hartmann's version), and does not know that Meleagant
was slain by Lancelot, or that the captive Bretons were freed by his
coming--both Meleagant and the Breton knights are fighting at the
tournament of Beaurösch.[50] Indeed, Wolfram appears to know far more
of these latter than can be gathered from Chrétien's poem. Of course,
we cannot here say whether these references are due to Wolfram or to
his source, which, as recent research has clearly shown, was certainly
the work of a man of varied and extensive learning.[51] Nor is it at
all clear that Wolfram knew Lancelot as Guinevere's lover; he simply
says that her imprisonment grieved him '_im was gevancnisse leit, die
frou Ginòvêr dolte_,' which might be postulated of any loyal servant of
Arthur's. Again when, at the beginning of Book xii., the poet recites
Gawain's love-sorrows, he compares his pains first to those suffered
by various heroes in the achievement of knightly deeds in general, and
then rehearses the parallel cases of sundry lovers. In the first list
Lancelot and the sword-bridge appear in company with Iwein and the
fountain, and Erec and the '_Schoie de la kurt_' adventure, neither of
which were undertaken for the sake of love (why Garel slew the lion
and fetched the knife, we do not know), but among the lovers he and
Guinevere are not mentioned.
Taking into consideration the fact that the story is, by its very
nature, far older than any literary form we possess; that there was
certainly in existence one version at least other than Chrétien's
(proved by the _Lanzelet_); and that Chrétien's source was avowedly
an _informal_ one, I do not think it impossible that in the poems of
Hartmann and Wolfram we have references to the original form of the
story of which Chrétien had only an incomplete knowledge. Hartmann's
version is certainly not drawn from the _Charrette_; in Wolfram's case
we can only give the verdict '_not proven_.'
In the whole investigation I think we can only consider two points as
satisfactorily settled: the original character of the story, and the
fact that Lancelot was not at first the hero of the adventure.
CHAPTER V
THE POSITION OF CHRÉTIEN DE TROYES IN THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE
At the stage which we have now reached in our examination of the
_Lancelot_ legend, it is, I think, imperative to form a clear idea of
the position which, in the great body of Arthurian literature, shall
be assigned to the author of the romance we have last studied. On the
question of the literary excellence of Chrétien's handling of his
material all are more or less agreed, but the problem of his relation
to his sources, the question whence he drew the stories he told with
such inimitable grace and felicity, is one which has long provoked a
lively interchange of argument. The romances of Chrétien de Troyes
form one of the chosen battlegrounds of widely differing schools of
Arthurian criticism.
Inasmuch as during the varying fortunes of a long-continued conflict
the elementary principles underlying the views respectively advocated
have a tendency to become obscured, and gradually misunderstood, it
is well that from time to time they should be clearly and formally
re-stated, in the light of such knowledge as recent investigation
may have cast upon them. We are then in a better position to judge
whether they retain, unimpaired, the force and cogency their adherents
have ascribed to them. Professor Foerster has apparently felt this
necessity, and, impelled by it, has, in the introduction to his edition
of the _Charrette_, given to the world what he evidently intends us
to regard as his matured and final conclusion on the question of the
source of Arthurian dramatic tradition.
Doubtless a similar statement from some leading scholar among the many
who hold views differing from Professor Foerster will be forthcoming;
in the meantime the present study appears to me to offer an excellent
opportunity for the re-statement of certain principles, and the
reiteration of certain facts, which cannot safely be left out of
consideration in such a study, and which Professor Foerster's argument
practically ignores.
To understand the position of Chrétien de Troyes to his sources,
whatever they may have been, we must, in the first place, have
possessed ourselves of the answer to two leading questions. (_a_) What
is the nature of the Arthurian tradition itself? (_b_) What was the
popular form assumed by that tradition at the time Chrétien wrote?
These are the main points, but they, of course, involve subsidiary
issues.
Generally speaking, the tendency of the school represented by Professor
Foerster is to regard the Arthurian tradition as divided into two
branches, historic and romantic. The former branch being _primarily_
represented by the _Historia_ of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the popularity
of which practically introduced Arthur to the literary world, and
_secondarily_ by certain passages in the earlier prose romances. This
branch contains features of _insular_ origin, reminiscences of the
historic Arthur and his fights with the Saxons; but the second and
far more important branch, the romantic, is of purely _continental_
origin. Arthur, as a romantic hero, is the product of Breton tradition
and folk-lore; Armorica, and not Wales, is the cradle of Arthurian
(romantic) legend; and it was Geoffrey's _Historia_ which gave the
requisite impulse to the formation of this tradition.
So much for theory, what now are the facts?
Without in any way minimising the popularity and influence of
Geoffrey's work, either in its original form or in the translation
of Wace, it is quite clear (_a_) that it did not represent _all_ the
historic tradition current concerning Arthur; (_b_) that his popularity
was of considerably earlier date. A comparison with the _Brut_ of
Layamon[52] will prove the first point; for the second, we have already
noted Professor Rajna's discovery of Arthurian names in Italian
documents as proving that such names must have been popular in Italy
at the end of the eleventh century. Further, from the testimony of the
bas-relief at Modena we see that the traditions associated with the
British king were not purely historic, but that he and his knights were
already the heroes of tales which have not descended to us. We cannot,
therefore, fix with any approach to certainty the date at which Arthur
became a romantic hero, but evidence points to a period anterior to
that generally admitted.
Then ought we not to distinguish between _romantic_ and _mythic_?
Professor Foerster's arguments appear to me to ignore Arthur as
a _mythic_ hero. Romance and myth are not the same thing; though
their final developments are apt to overlap, their root origins are
distinctly different.
The mythic element in Arthurian legend cannot be ignored--in fact, it
is practically admitted; but some scholars appear to lose sight of
its character. Yet if that character be rightly apprehended it will,
I think, be recognised that the distinguishing features are not due
to any demonstrable Armorican element; that the connection of Arthur
with Celtic myth must have taken place on _insular_ rather than on
_continental_ ground. Thus while Arthur may, or may not, represent the
_Mercurius Artusius_ of the Gauls, it is not possible to deny that he,
and at least one of his knights, Gawain, stand in very close relation
to early Irish mythic tradition. The persistence of Irish elements in
the Arthurian story is not a theory but an established _fact_. Where
would these stories, Arthurian and Irish, be most likely to meet and
mingle, in Great Britain, or in Armorica? The first is _a priori_
the more probable; not only is the distance less, but we know that
during the centuries between the life of the historic Arthur and the
appearance of Arthurian story a constant interchange of population went
on between Ireland and the northern parts of the British Isles. The
conclusion at which we should naturally arrive would be that stories
in which the Celtic element was presented under a form identical with
early Irish tradition would reach Brittany _viâ_ Great Britain, and
would not be of Armorican origin.
And this conclusion is strongly supported by the facts. We have
two remarkable stories told of Gawain, both of which find striking
parallels in early Irish legend, both are excellently preserved in
insular versions, neither is adequately represented by any known
continental text. I allude of course to _Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight_ and _The Marriage of Sir Gawain_.[53]
Of the first the existing French versions are, one and all, poor;
immensely inferior to the English poem, and showing in certain cases,
notably in _Perceval li Gallois_, a manifest lack of comprehension
of the story. The German version, _Diu Krône_, is preferable to any
of the French, but in no case is the story so well and fully told
as in the English poem, which cannot possibly be derived from any
known continental source. Of the main point of the second story, the
wedding of a young knight to a 'Loathly Lady,' the French poems have
no trace, though some seem to have retained a confused remembrance of
the transformation of a hideous hag into a maiden of surpassing beauty.
Mr. Maynadier, in his study of all the known variants, pronounces
unhesitatingly for the direct dependence of the English upon the Irish
tradition.[54]
In the first story, the Green Knight, the original hero of the
beheading challenge, is Cuchulinn, who, if he does not himself
represent a god, is certainly the son of a god. In the second the lady
is 'the sovereignty,' and through granting her request the hero obtains
the sovereignty of Ireland.
Both are thus distinctly mythical in character; and though the
English versions, as we now possess them, are of comparatively late
date, in neither case can the Irish version be later than the eleventh
century, while the internal evidence points a period anterior to the
introduction of Christianity.
Let us take another instance, the story of Guinevere's abduction and
rescue. Of purely mythical origin, the story was at first unlocalised,
but when localised it is on insular and not on continental ground.
To say, as Professor Foerster does,[55] that the mention of Bath is
no proof of an insular source simply shows that the writer has not
grasped the real facts of the case. The mention of Bath does not cover
the whole ground, it must be taken in connection with _Æstiva Regis_
(Somerset) and Glastonbury. The latter is, if I mistake not, the real
point of identification. A confusion between Glastonbury, Avalon,
and the abode of the departed had taken place previous to William of
Malmesbury: the exact date cannot be ascertained, but M. Ferd. Lot
considers the author of the identification to have been an Irish monk
writing in the tenth century. In a subsequent note M. Lot further
identified Melwas=Meleagant, whom all scholars admit to be a king of
the other-world, with the Irish 'king of the dead,' _Tigern-Mas_, of
which name he considers Mael-was to be the Welsh translation.[56]
Now it seems to me quite obvious that the connection of the king of the
other-world with the place looked upon as the special dwelling of the
departed must have _preceded_ his being considered as lord also of the
surrounding lands, _i.e._ Tigern-Mas=Maelwas must have been connected
with Glastonbury=Avalon _before_ he was thought of in connection with
Bath and _Æstiva Regis_. It is most probable that such a connection
would take place on _insular_ not on _continental_ ground, and as a
matter of fact the only text which connects Melwas with Glastonbury,
the _Vita Gildæ_, is an insular text, as is that which connects
Glastonbury with Avalon. Here, too, again, if M. Lot be right, we find
Irish influence at work.
It is probable that we may be able to add to this list the story of
Arthur's fight with the demon cat. The story is certainly told in a
continental text (_Merlin_), and located on continental ground, but the
identification of the monster with the _Cath Palug_ of Welsh tradition
and that again with the mysterious _Chapalu_ of French romance depends
on insular evidence.[57]
In his notice of Herr Freymond's monograph[58] M. Gaston Paris suggests
that the source will be found to be 'un trait sans doute fort ancien,
de mythologie celtique, que Gaufrei de Monmouth n'a pas accueilli';
while M. Loth, in a note appended to this critique, remarks that the
original vanquisher of the cat was certainly not Arthur but Kay. The
localisation of the story in Savoy, Herr Freymond considers to have
been due to the narration of pilgrims, and discusses the relations of
the houses of Savoy and Flanders with our Anglo-Norman kings.
Here then we have a group of stories, possessing a distinctive
(Celto-mythic) character, all of which are either better preserved,
solely retained, or originally localised in these islands; _i.e._
the evidence of facts is here in favour of an insular rather than a
continental origin. Nor do I think we shall be wrong if we ascribe a
decided importance to the fact that the tales told in these islands
appear to have been of a mythic rather than of a romantic character.
Granting then, that at Chrétien's time, and long previous, there was
current a body of tradition, historic, mythic, romantic, dealing with
the British king, how was it handed down, and in what shape did he
find it? Of course it will generally be admitted that for a long time
the transmission of such stories would be entirely--in Chrétien's days
it would still be partially--oral.[59] But in saying this we must
have a clear idea of what, in the case of traditional stories, oral
transmission implies. It does _not_ mean a game of 'Russian scandal,'
where the point is to see how much a story told from mouth to mouth can
be made to vary from its original form in the process; professional
story-_tellers_ were, and are, more conservative than story-_writers_.
The tales crystallise into certain formulæ of incident and expression
which survive often after the real signification has been forgotten.[60]
In the words of a recognised authority on folk-lore: 'Among many
peoples the _ipsissima verba_ of traditional tales are insisted upon;
the form, and even the details of the form, are often as much a part
of the tradition as the substance of the tale.'[61] Therefore when we
find two stories of marked traditional and folk-lore character agreeing
with each other in sequence of incident, detail, and even words, we do
not necessarily conclude that the versions are connected by borrowing:
they may be, but it is at least equally possible that they represent
independent versions of the same oral original.
This is, of course, well understood by the folk-lore student; but
unfortunately it is too often ignored by the literary critic, who is
too prone to devote attention to the literary form, while he ignores
the essential character of the story. Yet in solving the problem of
sources it is this latter which is the determining factor.
In examining into the sources of Chrétien de Troyes it is well to
remember that it is easy to exaggerate the necessity for a literary
source; it is difficult to exaggerate the conservative tendencies of a
professional story-teller of that date.
But besides the Arthurian legend proper, there was also current in
Chrétien's time a great mass of popular folk-lore, which, certainly on
the Continent, probably also on our island,[62] was told, or rather
sung, in the form of mythical tales or _lais_. These _lais_, in the
first instance in the Breton tongue, and independent of the Arthurian
cycle, were later translated into French eight-syllabic verse, and
largely Arthurised--if I may use the word.
The process in vogue appears to have consisted of two stages: in
the first, the king at whose court the events took place (himself
generally anonymous) was identified with Arthur; in the second stage,
the original hero was replaced by one of Arthur's knights. Among the
specimens which have been preserved we have examples of all the
stages: _lais_ entirely independent of Arthur; _lais_, the scene of
which is laid at Arthur's court; _lais_ in which the hero is one of
Arthur's knights; but one and all are in the same metre, that of
Chrétien's poems. Of an intermediate French form we have no trace.
The _lai_ of _Tyolet_, to which we have previously referred, is an
excellent example of this gradual 'Arthurisation.' As we have it, the
court at which the events take place is that of Arthur, the loyal
friend of the hero is Gawain, but nowhere else do we meet with Tyolet
as one of Arthur's knights: the inference is that we have here a _lai_
in the first stage of assimilation. The _lai_ consists of two parts;
the latter half, the stag adventure, is found in a separate form, but
here the hero is one of Arthur's most famous knights, Lancelot--the
process of assimilation is complete.
The first part of the _lai_ has many features which recall the
more famous 'Perceval' _Enfances_. That _Tyolet_ is anterior to
the evolution of the Lancelot story we have shown above[63]; the
probability is that it is also anterior to the great popularity of
the _Perceval_ story. When Perceval was once universally recognised
as the son of the widowed lady of the forest, there would be little
probability of the tale being told of a hero practically unknown to
Arthurian story. His adventures taken over by more famous knights,
Tyolet disappeared from the roll of heroes.
Again, among the _lais_ we have an important group dealing with the
main idea of a knight beloved by the wife of his lord, rejecting her
advances, incurring her displeasure, and finally departing to fairyland
with a fairy bride. Of this story we have three important variants,
agreeing in their main features but differing in detail: the _lais_ of
_Graalent_, _Guingamor_, and _Lanval_. Of these three, the scene of the
two first is laid at the court of an anonymous king; the action of the
third, translated by a contemporary of Chrétien, passes at the court
of Arthur. But, though the _lai_ of _Guingamor_ has only reached us in
its earlier and independent form, Chrétien himself refers to it in an
Arthurised version. He brings Guingamor to Arthur's court, and says of
him,
'_de l'Isle d'Avalon fu sire.
De cestui avons oï dire
Qu'il fu amis Morgain la fee,
Et ce fu veritez provee._'--_Erec_, ll. 1955-8.
M. Ferd. Lot[64] suggests that the identification is probably due
to Chrétien himself, but if we examine the passage closely I do not
think we shall find it to be so. It occurs in a list of knights who
visit Arthur's court for the marriage of Erec. The passage immediately
preceding deals with a certain Maheloas of l'Ile de Voirre.[65] He then
names two brothers, Graislemier de Fine Posterne and Guingamor. The
first named is generally identified as Graalent-Mor, the hero of the
_lai_ to which I have referred above.
The fact that Chrétien makes the two knights brothers clearly indicates
that he knew the close kinship existing between their stories; but
why, if dealing with a free hand, he should have made Guingamor, and
not Graalent, the lord of Avalon it is difficult to say. If free to
choose we should have expected the latter; the _lai_ of _Graalent_
stands in far closer connection with that of _Lanval_ (being a variant
of the same story) than with that of Guingamor; and Lanval weds the
mistress of Avalon. Or, since both were brothers, both might have
been represented as dwelling in that mystic island which had not one
queen alone as its denizen but nine. The real explanation alike of the
connection and the separation of the two knights appears to me to be
that Chrétien knew the one _lai_, and not the other, in an Arthurised
form.
Certainly it seems more probable that the gradual assimilation by the
_lais_ of an Arthurian character would, so far as the Continent is
concerned, take place on Breton rather than on French grounds. They are
originally Breton _lais_; Arthur is a Breton,[66] not a French, hero;
where would Breton folk-lore and Breton traditionary romance be more
likely to coalesce than in the home of both? I do not myself believe
that such coalition was the work either of Marie de France or Chrétien
de Troyes.
In any case it is beyond the shadow of a doubt that when Chrétien
wrote his first Arthurian poem there was already afloat a vast body
of popular folk-lore connected with the Arthurian legend, and existing
under the form of short poems in rhymed, eight-syllabic verse, the same
metre, in fact, as that adopted by Chrétien himself. It is also certain
that he knew these _lais_; highly probable that he knew some of them,
as his contemporary Marie de France did, in their Arthurised form. As
we shall see presently, there is strong ground for the presumption that
for the main incident of his most famous poem, _Yvain_, he was indebted
to such a _lai_.
Now, without accepting the mechanical theory of Herr Brugger,[67]
which would make the first Arthurian romances consist of _continental
lais_ automatically strung together, I certainly think that the _lais_
played a more important part in the evolution of these romances than
we generally realise. In a previous chapter[68] I have indicated what
would probably be the method of procedure. The original _lai_ would
be expanded by the introduction of isolated adventures; other _lais_,
which through demerit of style or music had failed to win popularity,
would be drawn upon for incident, or incorporated bodily; one or more
popular _lais_ would be added, and the whole worked over and polished
up into a complete and finished romance. At first the parts would hang
but loosely together, and there would be a good deal of re-selection
and discarding of incident before the work crystallised into shape,
though the form of the _original_ tale, which was the kernel of the
subsequent romance, would not be likely to vary much.
The _Lanzelet_ of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven is, as I suggested above,
an example of a romance arrested in development: the kernel of the
whole can be detected, but the parts fit badly, and it has never been
really worked up into shape. But, unless I am much mistaken, we have
in the Welsh tale of _The Lady of the Fountain_ a specimen of the
same process at work, of capital importance for critical purposes,
since we also possess the completed work, _i.e._ the Mabinogi has
preserved Chrétien's _Yvain_ _in process of making_. The adventures are
practically identical, sequence and incident agree in the main, but in
the Welsh version they are much more loosely connected, and there are
significant breaks which seem to show where the successive redactions
ended. If we follow the indications of the version we shall conclude
that _as first told_ the story ended with Yvain's achievement of the
'spring' adventure and his marriage with the lady. This would, I think,
represent the original _lai_, which in its primitive form might well
be unconnected with Arthur's court: the king was probably anonymous.
The next step would be to Arthurise the story; Yvain must start from
Arthur's court, and naturally the court must learn of his success: this
was arranged by bringing Arthur and his knights to the spring where
they are themselves witnesses, and victims, of Yvain's prowess. It is
significant that in _all_ the versions extant Yvain is influenced in
his secret departure from court by the conviction that _Gawain_ will
demand the adventure of the spring, and thus forestall him; but in
the Welsh variant alone is this forecast literally fulfilled and the
undecided conflict between Yvain and Gawain fought at the spring. And
here the Welsh version breaks again. This was evidently the end of the
Arthurised _lai_, and the point where the conflict between the friends
was _originally_ placed. All the variants bear the trace of this
second redaction; the Welsh tale alone indicates clearly what was the
primitive form. Yvain's transgression of his lady's command (probably
first introduced for this purpose), a transgression much more serious
in the Welsh, where he stays away for three years, than in the other
versions, offered an elastic framework for the introduction of isolated
adventures; finally, when the whole was worked over in romance form,
his combat with King Arthur's invincible nephew was transferred to the
end of the poem, where it formed an appropriate and fitting climax to
his feats.
The theory suggested above is based upon certain recognised
peculiarities in the evolution of the Breton _lais_; but the question
whether we are justified in making such use of ascertained facts
naturally depends upon whether the story related in the romance in
question was in its origin one that we might expect to find related in
a _lai_; if it were _not_, then, however rational the hypothesis may
otherwise appear, we should regard it with suspicion as lacking solid
foundation.
Granting then that a considerable share in the completion of Arthurian
romantic tradition was due to the influence of _lais_ originally
independent of that tradition, that the process of fusion had already
commenced when Chrétien wrote his poems, and that he was himself
familiar with such _lais_, each of the above points having been already
proved, our next step must be to examine the _character_ of the stories
related by Chrétien.
Two of the five works we possess (I do not count the _Guillaume_,
which whether it be by Chrétien or not lies outside the scope of our
inquiry) must at once be put on one side. Neither _Cligés_ nor the
_Charrette_ story (in the form Chrétien tells it) can be based upon
_lais_. But the character of the three more famous poems, _Erec_,
_Yvain_, and _Perceval_, is precisely that of a romance composed of
traditional and folk-lore themes. In the case of _Erec_ and _Perceval_
this is partially admitted even by the most thoroughgoing advocate
of Chrétien's originality, though Professor Foerster would limit the
element to the _Sparrow-hawk_ and _Joie de la Court_ adventures in
the first, and to Perceval's _Enfances_ as representing a _Dümmling_
folk-tale in the second.[69]
On this subject I shall have more to say later on; for the present
I will confine my remarks to _Yvain_, on the construction of which
Professor Foerster holds a theory, highly complicated in itself,
and excluding, as a necessary consequence, any genuine folk-lore
element.[70]
According to this view the main idea of the poem is borrowed from the
story of _The Widow of Ephesus_, a tale of world-wide popularity, the
oldest version of which appears to be Oriental (Grisebach considered
it to be Chinese), and which in Latin form, as told first by Phædrus
and then at greater length in the compilation of _The Seven Sages of
Rome_, was well known in mediæval times.[71] With this is combined
other elements: a Breton local tradition, classical stories (the Ring
of Gyges and the Lion of Androcles), and other stories of unspecified
origin.
On the face of it, this theory postulates a highly artificial source,
and one calling for great powers of invention and combination; and when
we examine it, we find the main idea wholly inadequate to sustain the
elaborate fabric reared upon it. I have carefully studied _The Widow
of Ephesus_, both in earlier and later variants, and can only see the
slightest possible resemblance to the _Yvain_ story; true, in both a
widow, overcome with grief for the loss of her husband, speedily forms
a fresh attachment, but situation, details, _motif_, all are radically
different. In every variant of the first story the lady's action is
prompted by mere sensual caprice; in the second, it is the outcome of a
sound instinct of self-preservation. True, Laudine does eventually fall
in love with _Yvain_, but she contemplates marriage with him before
she has ever beheld him, influenced by the advice of her servant,
who paints in strong colours the defenceless condition of the land,
and who is aware of Yvain's passion for her lady. In _no_ variant of
the earlier tale does the lady marry the slayer of her husband (a
point, I believe, essential to the _Yvain_ story). Indeed, in many her
advances are rejected by the object of her passion; in _all_ she is
represented as refusing to leave the grave, and none are free from the
repulsive details accompanying her new-fledged passion, though these
are amplified in the later versions. In insisting on the fact that
the lady's re-marriage (often entirely lacking in the earlier story),
'_unter hässlichen unser Gefühl schwer verletzenden Bedingungen_,' is
the central point of both stories,[72] Professor Foerster overshoots
his mark. The conduct of the Lady of Ephesus is certainly offensive in
the highest degree, not so that of Laudine. For a woman, especially
if she were an heiress, in mediæval times marriage was an absolute
necessity. The true parallel to Laudine is here _not_ the widow of
many wanderings, but the Duchess of Burgundy, in _Girard de Viane_,
who, on the death of her husband, promptly appeals to Charlemagne.
'_A quoi sert le deuil?--donnez-moi un autre mari. Donnez moi donc
un mari qui soit bien puissant._'[73] _Un mari bien puissant_ was a
necessity of those days. The real truth is, that the situation was
already in the story, and mediæval compilers explained it in accordance
with the social conditions of the time, and the parallel situations in
contemporary stories.
A minor objection to the theory is, that it would make, not the hero,
but the lady, the real centre of the story, which is certainly not the
case. But, as we shall see, the tale in its original form is far older
than Chrétien, _and could by no possibility have been invented at so
late a date as Professor Foerster suggests_.
_Yvain_, as one of Arthur's knights, is of a date considerably anterior
to Chrétien. We find him in Wace's _Brut_, as a valiant hero, on whom
Arthur, after the death of Aguisel, bestows the crown of Scotland.[74]
Now, Professor Foerster himself states, and I think the great majority
of scholars will fully agree with him, that neither _Erec_, _Yvain_,
nor _Perceval_ were _originally_ Arthurian heroes, and undoubtedly
their connection with Arthur's court was of the slightest. If their
connection with Arthur marks a secondary stage in the story, and
_Yvain_ in the _Brut_ is already an Arthurian knight, it is pretty
obvious that the original tale connected with him, by virtue of which
he was admitted into the magic circle of Arthurian romance, must be
older even than Wace; in other words, he must have been the hero of a
popular adventure upwards of thirty years, at least, before Chrétien
wrote his poem. And if that original story was not the fountain-story,
what was it?
But if we look at the tale aright, I think we shall discover that its
essential character is so archaic that it may well be as old as the
most exacting criticism can require. What is it but the variant of a
_motif_ coeval with the earliest stages of human thought and religious
practice--the tale of him '_who slew the slayer, and shall himself be
slain_'? The champion who must needs defend his charge single-handed
against all comers, and whose victor must perforce take his place; and
how old this tale may be, Mr. Frazer has taught us.[75]
This surmise is strengthened by the nature of the challenge; Yvain's
pouring the water, which is followed by a storm, is a simple piece of
sympathetic magic--of rain-making, and, as such, is practised even
to-day by savages in different parts of the world. Such a story must,
by its very nature, have been originally _un_localised, even as it
cannot be dated; it could be postulated of _any_ place, it might be
practised everywhere--it belongs just as much, and just as little, to
South Africa in the present day as to the wood of Broceliande in the
twelfth century.
To treat such a story as a local tradition is a grave error. It may
have recalled in its details certain stories told of the Fountain
of Barenton, and, therefore, when transported to the Continent from
Wales (to which country the earlier redaction certainly belongs),
the continental story-tellers, finding the Fountain unlocalised, as
it naturally was in the original tale, connected it with the Breton
forest. But it is obvious that such connection is purely arbitrary,
and has no critical value. It is at variance with all the geography
of the story, which is located in Wales or on the Welsh border; and
neither the compiler of the Welsh version nor the English translator
of Chrétien's poem admit it, but adhere to the earlier and unlocalised
form.
I may here quote a remark of the distinguished folk-lore authority
to whom I have previously referred. Mr. E. S. Hartland says: 'The
rain-making incident has always seemed to me a very good evidence of
the traditional origin of the (_Yvain_) story. At all events it is an
incident very closely connected with savage magic.'
I do not suppose it would very much astonish any competent student
of these questions if some missionary in Africa, or traveller in the
South Sea Islands, was to publish a savage variant of our romance:
the substitution of the slayer for the slain, and the practice of
rain-making by the pouring out of water, are customs alive in certain
parts of the world to this day. But what would Professor Foerster say?
Would he still maintain that his '_Meister_' invented the story, and
credit the savage folk, whoever they might be, with the remains of a
vanished civilisation and literary culture?
I think it also highly probable that in the _Balaan and Balaain_
story, and in _Meraugis de Portlesguez_, we have variants of the same
theme. In each of these cases the hero must take the place of the
champion he defeats, and hold the post till in his turn he be defeated
and slain; while at the same time he succeeds to his predecessor's
relations with the lady of the castle, whose _ami_ he becomes.[76]
It will be observed that Herr Ahlström's suggestion that the lady may
originally have been a fairy--a suggestion contemptuously scouted by
Professor Foerster[77]--might be accepted without any detriment to
the original signification of the story, whereas Professor Foerster's
theory excludes any possible archaic origin, and is demonstrably out of
harmony with the very primitive rain-making incident.
It is obvious that such a tale as I have indicated above, belonging as
it does to the family of folk-lore and traditional tales, is precisely
the kind of story that might be related in a _lai_; and this was, I
believe, its original form. It is significant that Chrétien records
the fact that there was a _lai_ more or less closely connected with
the lady who became Yvain's wife; and, according to the reading of one
MS., that connection was very close indeed, being nothing less
than the relation of how Yvain won her to wife.
I print here the reading to which I refer, together with that of
Professor Foerster's edition:--
MS. 12560, _Bib. Nat._ (Anç. fr. 210), fol. 14, recto 2nd col.
_Veanz touz les barons se done
La dame a mon seignor 'Y.'
Par la main de son chapelain
Einsint la dame de lenduc
La dame qui fu fille au duc
Lan () donez dont len note_·|·_lai_.[78]
Professor Foerster's critical edition.
_Veant toz ses barons se done
La dame a mon seignor Yvain.
Par la main d'un suen chapelain
Prise a Laudine de Landuc
La dame qui fu fille au duc
Laudunet don an note un lai._
--_Yvain_, ed. 1891, ll. 2148-53.
(Translation.)
_All the barons beholding, gives herself
The lady to my lord Yvain.
By the hand of her chaplain
Thus the lady of lenduc,
The lady who was daughter to the duke,
They have given to him of which (whom) one notes a lay._
_All her barons beholding, gives herself
The lady to my lord Yvain.
By the hand of one her chaplain
He has taken Laudine de Landuc,
The lady who was daughter to the duke,
Laudunet of whom (which) one notes a lay._
It will be observed that, grammatically, the phrase 'don an note
un lai' may refer to the wedding quite as well as to the supposed
Laudunet, while _in no other passage in the entire poem_ is the lady's
name or that of her father mentioned.
The MS. which offers the interesting variant quoted above is,
Professor Foerster tells us, in the dialect of Champagne (Chrétien was
a Champenois) of the thirteenth century, and stands in close relation
to the source of Hartmann von Aue's translation.[79]
For many reasons it appears to me that this reading deserves more
attention than it has yet received. It is, to say the least, curious
that Chrétien should go out of his way to remark upon a _lai_ dealing
with an absolutely unknown personage and one to whom he never refers
again. Chrétien's poems stand, _not_ at the commencement of the
Arthurian tradition, but at a very advanced stage of its evolution:
had there been current at that date, the end of the twelfth century, a
_lai_ important enough to be chronicled in this unusual manner (I can
recall no other instance in Chrétien's poems), some trace of the hero
of the _lai_, if not the poem itself, would surely have been preserved
to us. On the other hand, the version given in the Welsh tale has a
break precisely at this point, showing where the primary redaction
ended, and the character of the tale is, as we have seen, such as
might well be preserved in a _lai_. I believe that Chrétien is here
indicating the original source of this section of his poem.
The passage, moreover, has a curious affinity with one to which I shall
have occasion to refer later on, where the carelessness of a copyist
in running together two or three words has created what the editor of
the text read as a proper name, a reading adopted by his critics. But
here the text had not been worked over, and the result was a confused
reading which has baffled more than one commentator. The mere chance
that the right reading (here undoubted) has been preserved in a text
hitherto unaccountably neglected has enabled me to detect the error;
but had the copyists of the _Queste_ been as careful to preserve
the grammatical sense as those of the _Yvain_, we should have been
much puzzled to decide whether _D'Estrois de Gariles_ was or was not
originally _des trois de Gaule_![80]
It is a question for experts in palæography which is the more likely
error to be made, the running of two or three words into one,
eventually read as a proper name, or the separation of the letters
composing a proper name into two or three words.
It appears to me that the arguments advanced for the above view are,
as compared with Professor Foerster's arguments, _objective_ versus
_subjective_. Professor Foerster sees in the story of Yvain and his
lady a resemblance to the tale of the _Widow of Ephesus_, _therefore_
he concludes that Chrétien based his romance on that story; but in
support of his theory he offers no _proof_ whatever: there is no
evidence that Chrétien knew the tale, no reference to a book in which
it might be contained, no correspondence of name or phrase, and the
most characteristic incidents, the dwelling by the grave, and the
insult to the corpse, have no parallel in the romance.[81] The evidence
is purely subjective; satisfactory to the framer of the theory, but not
satisfactory to others.
The evidence for the theory advanced above is, on the contrary,
purely objective. The story must be of such a character that it might
be told as a _lai_--it is of such a character, _i.e._ folk-lore and
traditional; _proof_--the rain-making incident, and correspondence
with the _motif_ of 'slayer and slain.' We must have proof that
Chrétien knew the _lais_ current in his day--he refers to one of the
most famous, _Guingamor_, and couples the hero with that of another,
_Graalent_. We should like a reference to a _lai_ connected with the
story--we have the reference, at the very point where, according
to our theory, we might expect to find it. Further, the reading of
one MS., and that neither a late nor a poor one, gives a
remarkable indication of the contents of the _lai_. If on these grounds
we decline to accept the _Widow of Ephesus_ theory we are surely
neither prejudiced nor oblivious of facts.[82]
Nor is Professor Foerster more fortunate in his theory of the origin
of _Perceval_. He states it at great length in the introduction to the
_Charrette_,[83] but the main points may be summarised thus. The book
given to Chrétien by Count Philip of Flanders was a _Grail_ as distinct
from a _Perceval_ romance. The two were independent stories and their
combination was the work of Chrétien de Troyes. 'Dieser original
Gralroman enthielt natürlich keinen Perceval und auch nicht dessen
Sagen-motiv, sondern wird den uns sonst bekannten Gral-texten ähnlich
gewesen sein.'[84] 'Sollte das _livre_ aber, aller Unwahrscheinlichkeit
zu trotz, dennoch ein Perceval (d. h. Dümmlings-) Roman gewesen sein,
so erklärt sich ebenfalls warum das _livre_ nicht gefunden worden ist:
_der Name Perceval stand natürlich nicht in demselben sondern ist
durch Kristian von einem schon in Erec genannten Ritter auf den Helden
übertragen worden_.'[85]
Into such pitfalls can the obstinate adherence to a preconceived idea
lead the most distinguished scholar! What are the facts? In _Erec_,
Chrétien mentions Perceval by his full title, Perceval li Galois, as
at Arthur's court, but does not include him in the list of knights of
the Round Table;[86] but in _Cligés_, written some years later than
_Erec_, and according to Professor Foerster himself _between twenty
and thirty years before the Perceval_, the whole position is changed:
Perceval is not merely one of Arthur's knights, but second in rank,
inferior only to Gawain, thus displacing _Erec_, whose praises Chrétien
had sung at length, and superior to Lancelot, whom the poet also
celebrated before he wrote of Perceval.
This is the position. Cligés has come to a tournament at Ossenefort,
and has on the first two days overthrown successively Segramore and
Lancelot; on the third day:
'_Del ranc devers Ossenefort
Part uns vassaus de grant renon,
Percevaus li Galois ot non.
Lués que Cligés le vit movoir
Et de son non oï le voir,
Que Perceval l'oï nomer,
Mout desirre a lui asanbler._'--_Cligés_, 4826-32.
This is the Perceval who was only a name to Chrétien! But Chrétien's
hero knows him! Can we avoid the conclusion that, at the time _Cligés_
was written, Perceval was already the hero of a well-known and highly
popular tale; so popular that the author felt justified in displacing
in his favour the hero (Erec) whose deeds he had already sung with such
marked success? If the story of Perceval li Galois be due to Chrétien,
then we must believe that, having conceived the tale in his mind,
and paved the way for its reception by the above reference, he yet
abstained from presenting it to the public for nearly thirty years! Or
could Perceval have been the hero of some other tale, the popularity of
which has waned before that of Chrétien's poem? Of any story connected
with him save the _Enfances-Grail_ adventure there is no trace, and
of these we have variants of the former _minus_ the Grail tradition
(_Peredur_ and the English _Sir Percyvelle_); but all the Grail stories
know the _Enfances_.
It is also significant that Chrétien in the _Erec_ mentions both
Gurnemanz (Gornemant) and L'Orguelleus de la Lande, both of them noted
characters of the _Perceval_ story; in fact, but for that story the
former would be nothing more than a name to us.
I have remarked in a note to chap. ii. that Chrétien apparently also
knew the enchanter of the _Lanzelet_. I had not noted this till I
had completed my study of the poem, and, as a footnote is apt to be
overlooked, I draw attention to it here. In the list of the knights of
the Round Table given in _Erec_, Chrétien ranks as eighth Mauduiz li
Sages; in Hartmann's translation the name is given as Malduiz li Sages;
_Diu Krône_ has Malduz der Weise; the _Lanzelet_ spells the enchanter's
name Malduz or Malduc, and qualifies him as der Wîse.[87]
I do not think there can be the least doubt that it is one and the
same individual who is referred to in these quotations, and the only
adventure known of him, and one which would fully account for his
sobriquet _li Sages_, is one which is preserved in a poem bristling
with _Perceval_ allusions,[88] the _Lanzelet_ of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven.
I have said above that a critical edition of the _Lanzelet_ is
urgently needed, and I should not be surprised if the result of a close
examination of that poem were to show good reasons for fixing the date
of the _Perceval_ story (as a _Perceval_ and not a mere _Dümmling_
story) at a much earlier period than we have hitherto been inclined to
admit.[89]
Is it not the fact that story-tellers in mediæval times depended for
their popularity less upon the _manner_ in which they told their
stories than on the stories themselves? _i.e._, if they wished to
write a really popular poem they took a subject already popular,
and which they knew would be secure of a favourable hearing. Are we
really so unreasonable when we contend that it was the traditional,
folk-lore, popular character of the stories told in _Erec_, _Yvain_,
and _Perceval_, which made them so much more popular than _Cligés_? The
_Charrette_ is so manifestly inferior to Chrétien's other works that we
will not call it as evidence; it was, and deserved to be, little known.
But _Cligés_ stands on a different footing. The story is interesting,
it is well written, and the love-tale of Alexander and Soredamors
contains some of the poet's most characteristic writing; yet, compared
with the other poems, it took little hold on the popular fancy. Was it
not because the story was unknown to the general public with whom the
tale itself counted for more than the skill with which it was told?
I cannot but think that to treat such stories as the three named above,
solely as _Arthurian_ stories, is to base our criticism of them on
an entirely false foundation: they are only Arthurian in a secondary
sense, and criticism of them, to be accurate and scientific, must be
founded as much on folk-lore as on literary data. Nor, I submit, are
arguments, which may be sound enough as applied to the rise of the
Arthurian romantic legend, of necessity equally sound when applied to
stories of independent origin incorporated in that legend. I do not
say for a moment that Arthur as a _romantic_ hero is a continental
creation, personally I very much doubt it; but of this I am quite
certain, were that continental origin proved up to the hilt, it would
still leave unsolved the problem of the origin of these stories.
Before closing this chapter I would touch for a moment on the
geographical questions involved; for it seems to me that not sufficient
account has been taken of the marked difference between the geography
of these three and that of Chrétien's remaining two poems. The first
three have a common character. Yvain's adventures pass in and on the
borders of Wales. He starts from Carduel en Galles (Kardyf in the
English version), and after one night's rest reaches the fountain. It
is at Chester, not otherwise an Arthurian town, but one well within
the bounds of the story, that his wife's messenger finds him. Erec is
'_d'Estregalles_'; the towns are Caradigan, Carduel, Cærnant, Nantes.
So with Perceval, who is _li Galois_, we have Carduel, Dinasdron, the
Forest of Broceliande--exactly the geography we might expect in stories
of Welsh origin redacted on Armorican ground. Many of the names here,
as in certain of the _lais_, may be either insular or continental,
inasmuch as they are common to the Celtic race on both sides of the
Channel.