MANEUVERING WITH A LANCE IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYMANEUVERING WITH A LANCE IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
MANEUVERING WITH A LANCE IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
MANEUVERING WITH A LANCE IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
Restored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
Thus Conon's brother came within four years to be an admirabledamoiseau(little lord), an epithet decidedly more commendatory than its partial equivalent "squire" (ecuyer, shield bearer).[58]
Martial Exercises, the Quintain
Of course, his military training had proceeded apace. Soon he was allowed to tilt with his horse and lance at thequintain. This is a manikin covered with a coat of mail and a shield, and set on a post. Thehorseman dashes up against it at full gallop, and tries to drive his lance through shield and armor. There are many variations for making the sport harder. After Aimery could strike thequintainwith precision he took his first tilt against an older squire. Never will he forget the grinding shock of the hostile lance splintering upon his shield; the almost irresistible force that seemed smiting him out of the saddle; the dismay when he found his own lance glancing harmlessly off the shield of his opponent, slanted at a cunning angle. But practice makes perfect. When he finally returned to St. Aliquis his own brother was almost unhorsed when they tried a friendly course by the barbican.
So Aimery completed his education. If he has failed to learn humility, humanity to villeins, and that high respect for women which treats them not merely as creatures to be praised and courted, but as one's moral and intellectual equals, he at least has learned a high standard of honor in dealing with his fellow nobles. The confidences his master has reposed in him have made it a fundamental conviction that it were better to perish a dozen times than to betray a trust. He believes that the word of a cavalier should be better than the oath of the ignoble. As for courage, it were better to die like Ganelon, torn by wild horses, than to show fear in the face of physical danger. He has been trained also to cultivate the virtue of generosity to an almost ruinous extent.
Free giving is one of the marks of a true nobleman. Largess is praised by the minstrels almost as much as bravery. "He is not a true knight who is too covetous." Therefore money is likely to flow like water through Aimery's fingers all his life. The one redeeming fact will be that, though he will be constantlygiving, hewill always be as constantlyreceiving. Among the nobles there is an incessant exchanging of gifts—horses, armor, furs, hawks, and even money. All wealth really comes from the peasants, yet their lords dispose carelessly of it even though they do not create it. Even the villeins, however, will complain if their masters do not make the crowds scramble often for coppers—never realizing that these same coppers represent their own sweat and blood.
Demanding Knighthood
As already stated, Aimery's master had died (to his squire's sincere grief) shortly before the latter could have said to him according to the formula, "Fair Sire, I demand of you knighthood." The young man has accordingly returned to St. Aliquis, and waited for some action by his brother. Knighthood means for a noble youth the attainment of his majority. It involves recognition as a complete member of that aristocracy which was separated by a great gulf from the villeins. Very rarely can the base-born hope for that ceremonial buffet which admits them to the company of the gentle. If a peasant has exhibited remarkable courage and intelligence, and above all has rendered some extraordinary service to a duke or king, sometimes his villein blood may be forgotten officially. But even if he is knighted, all his life he can be treated as a social upstart, his dame despised and snubbed by noblewomen, and his very grandchildren reminded of the taint of their ancestor.
True, indeed, not all men of nobility can become knights. Knighthood ordinarily implies having a minimum of landed property, and ability to live in aristocratic idleness. Many poor nobles, and especially the younger sons of poor nobles, remain bachelors, fretting upon their starving properties, or serving some seigneuras mercenaries, and hoping for a stroke of fortune so that they can demand knighthood. But they are likely to die in their poverty, jealous of the rich sires, yet utterly scornful of the peasants and thanking the saints they are above touching a plow, mattock, or other vulgar means of livelihood.
On the other hand, there are many seigneurs who, although rich and dubbed as knights, nevertheless give the lie to their honors by their effeminacy and luxury. They are worse than the baron whom we saw as atrouvèreand collector of minstrels' romances, and who even read Latin books. The monkish preachers scold such weaklings and pretended gallants. "To-day our warriors are reared in luxury. See them leave for the campaign! Are their packs filled with iron, with lances, with swords? Not so, but with leathern bottles filled with wine, with cheeses, and spits for roasting. One would imagine that they were going to a feast in the gardens and not to a battle. They carry splendidly plated shields; but greatly they hope to bring them back undented."[59]
Such unworthy knights unquestionably can be found, but they have not tainted the whole nobility. Your average cavalier has spent his entire life training for combat; he dreams of lance thrusts and forays; and the least of his sins is that he will shun deadly blows.
At last the great day for which Aimery has waited is at hand. To-morrow Conon will dub him a knight.
FOOTNOTES:[56]As late as about 1250 there was a "grand chamberlain of France" who seems to have been absolutely illiterate.[57]It is risky to generalize as to the extent of learning among the average nobles. Some modern students would probably represent them as being sometimes better lettered than were Conon and Aimery.[58]The sharp distinction between the young attendants known as "pages," and the older "squires," had hardly been worked out byA.D.1220. Such young persons could also be called "varlets," but that name might be given as well to non-noble servitors. When chivalry was at its height the theory developed that a nobleman's son should spend his first to his seventh year at home with his mother, his eighth to his fifteenth in suitable training as a "page," and from that time till he was one-and-twenty serving as a squire. This precise demarcation of time was probably seldom adhered to. Many ambitious young nobles would serve much less than seven years as a squire. On the other hand, many petty nobles might remain squires all their lives, for lack of means to maintain themselves as self-respecting knights.[59]The words quoted are those of the Archdeacon Peter of Blois, haranguing aboutA.D.1180.
[56]As late as about 1250 there was a "grand chamberlain of France" who seems to have been absolutely illiterate.
[56]As late as about 1250 there was a "grand chamberlain of France" who seems to have been absolutely illiterate.
[57]It is risky to generalize as to the extent of learning among the average nobles. Some modern students would probably represent them as being sometimes better lettered than were Conon and Aimery.
[57]It is risky to generalize as to the extent of learning among the average nobles. Some modern students would probably represent them as being sometimes better lettered than were Conon and Aimery.
[58]The sharp distinction between the young attendants known as "pages," and the older "squires," had hardly been worked out byA.D.1220. Such young persons could also be called "varlets," but that name might be given as well to non-noble servitors. When chivalry was at its height the theory developed that a nobleman's son should spend his first to his seventh year at home with his mother, his eighth to his fifteenth in suitable training as a "page," and from that time till he was one-and-twenty serving as a squire. This precise demarcation of time was probably seldom adhered to. Many ambitious young nobles would serve much less than seven years as a squire. On the other hand, many petty nobles might remain squires all their lives, for lack of means to maintain themselves as self-respecting knights.
[58]The sharp distinction between the young attendants known as "pages," and the older "squires," had hardly been worked out byA.D.1220. Such young persons could also be called "varlets," but that name might be given as well to non-noble servitors. When chivalry was at its height the theory developed that a nobleman's son should spend his first to his seventh year at home with his mother, his eighth to his fifteenth in suitable training as a "page," and from that time till he was one-and-twenty serving as a squire. This precise demarcation of time was probably seldom adhered to. Many ambitious young nobles would serve much less than seven years as a squire. On the other hand, many petty nobles might remain squires all their lives, for lack of means to maintain themselves as self-respecting knights.
[59]The words quoted are those of the Archdeacon Peter of Blois, haranguing aboutA.D.1180.
[59]The words quoted are those of the Archdeacon Peter of Blois, haranguing aboutA.D.1180.
The thing which really separates a noble from a villein is the former's superiority in arms. True, God has made the average cavalier more honorable, courteous, and sage than the peasant; but, after all, his great advantage is material. The villeins, poor churls, spend their days with shovel, mattock, or in mechanic toil. Doubtless, they can grow wheat, raise pigs, weave cloth, or build houses better than their masters, but in the use of arms how utterly are they inferior. How can a plowman, though you give him weapons, hold his own against a man of gentility who has been trained in arms from early boyhood. As for the peasants with their ordinary weapons—flails, boar spears, great knives, scythes set on poles, bows and arrows—suppose ten of them meet one experienced cavalier in full panoply upon a reliable charger. His armor will turn their puny blows. He will, perhaps, have brained or pinked through four of them before the other six can run into the woods. No wonder nobles give the law to villeins!
The noble is almost always a horseman. It is the great war steed that gives him much of his advantage, and a large part of the remainder comes from his magnificent armor, which enables him often to go through desperate contests unscathed, and which is so expensive that most non-nobles can never afford it. Agood cavalier despises missile weapons, he loves to come to grips. Bowmen are despised as being always villeins. Says a poet, "Coward was he who was the first archer; he was a weakling and dared not come close to his foe." And many armies are reckoned by cavalry alone, even as sang another minstrel of a legendary host, "there were in it sixty thousand knights, not counting foot soldiers of whom no account is taken."
A KNIGHT AT THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYA KNIGHT AT THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale. He wears on his shoulders small metal plaques called "ailettes."
A KNIGHT AT THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale. He wears on his shoulders small metal plaques called "ailettes."
A KNIGHT AT THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
Restored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale. He wears on his shoulders small metal plaques called "ailettes."
Old warriors dislike arbalists, those terrible crossbows, wound up with a winch, which enable base-born infantrymen to send heavy bolts clear through shirts of mail. They are most unknightly things. In 1139 a Lateran Council actually forbade their use against Christians. Arbalists certainly are useful in sieges for clearing ramparts or repelling attack; but they take so long to wind up after every shot that their value in open battles is limited. Crossbowmen, unless carefully protected, can be ridden down by cavalry. So for another hundred years the mailed knight will hold his own. Then may come the English long-bow (far more rapid in its firethan the arbalist), and the day of the infantry will return.
Training to Fight in Armor
Knights are continually fighting, or at least are exercising most violently in tourneys; yet the proportion of contestants slain is not very great. This is because their armor makes them almost invulnerable. After a battle, if you count the dead, you find they are usually all from the poor villein infantry or the luckless camp followers. Yet this harness has inconveniences. It is so heavy that the knight is the prisoner of his own armor. He can hardly mount his horse unassisted. Once flung from the saddle, he can scarcely rise without help. The lightest suit of armor in common use weighs at least fifty-five pounds. Powerful knights often wear much heavier. Yet to be able to move about with reasonable freedom, to swing one's shield, to control one's horse, and finally to handle lance or sword with great strength and precision, doing it all in this ponderous clothing of metal, are what squires like Aimery must learn to a nicety ere claiming knighthood. Wearing such armor, it is not remarkable that noblemen always prefer horseback, and fight on foot only in emergencies.
The prime unit in a suit of armor is the hauberk. He who has a fine hauberk, light (considering the material), pliable, and of such finely tempered steel as to be all but impenetrable, has something worth a small manor land. On this hauberk will often depend his life.
In the olden days, before aboutA.D.1000, the hauberk was a shirt of leather or quilted cloth, covered by overlapping metal plates like fishscales. Now, thanks to ideas probably gathered from the Saracens, it is a shirt of ring mails, a beautiful network of fine chains and links, in the manufacturing of which the armorers("the worthiest folk among all villeins," declares Conon) can put forth remarkable skill. The double or triple links are all annealed. The metal is kept bright and "white" by constant polishing (a regular task for the squires), and Conon has one gala shirt of mail which has been silvered. These garments form an almost complete protection, thanks to long sleeves, a long skirt below the knees, and a hood coming right over the head and partly covering the cheeks. A few brightly colored threads are sometimes worked into the links for ornament, but the flashing sheen of a good hauberk is its sufficient glory. The widowed Countess of Bernon has sent to Aimery, as token of good will, a ring shirt belonging to her husband. The knight-to-be swears that he will never dishonor its former owner while he wears it.
Hauberks, Helmets and Shields
GERMAN HELMETS OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYGERMAN HELMETS OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
The next great unit in the armor is the helmet. Helmets have been steadily becoming more complicated, but most warriors still prefer a plain conical steel cap encircled with a band of metal which may be adorned with gilt enamel. It has also a "nasal," a metal bar to protect the nose. Helmets are usually laced to the hood of the hauberk by small leathern straps. Since even a light and well-tempered helmet is an uncomfortable thing, you seldom wear it until just before going into action. "Lace helmets!" is the order to get ready for a charge; and after a knight is wounded the first friendly act is to unlace his headpiece. By the early thirteenth century helmets are beginning to have closedvisors to keep out missiles. But these visors are immovable without taking off the whole helm; and if they get displaced and the small eyeholes are shifted, the wearer is practically blind. The old-style open helm will therefore continue in vogue until the coming of the elaborate plate armor and the more manageable jointed helms of the fourteenth century.
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY SHIELDA THIRTEENTH-CENTURY SHIELD
The third great protection is the shield. These have been getting smaller as hauberks and helmets have been improving; but one cannot trust solely to the body armor. Besides, a shield is a kind of offensive weapon. A sharp thrust with its edge or a push with its broad surface may often knock your opponent over. Aimery's new shield is semioval and slightly pointed at the bottom. It covers its possessor from shoulder to knees while sitting on his horse. The stoutest kind of hide is used in making it, with a backing of light, tough wood, and a strong rim of metal. It curves inward slightly for the better protection of the body. In the center is a metal knob, usually of brilliant brass, and the name "buckler" comes from this strong "boss" (boucle). There is a big leather strap by which the shield is ordinarily carried about the neck; but when you go into action you run your left arm through two strong handles.
A shield seems a simple object, but almost as much skill goes into compacting the wood, leather, and metal into one strong mass, not easily split or pierced, as into making the hauberk. The front, of course, is highly colored, and, although the heraldic "coat armor" hasyet hardly developed, every cavalier will flaunt some design of a lion, eagle, dragon, cross, or floral scroll. As for the handling of the shield, it is nearly as great a science as the handling of the sword; indeed, the trained warrior knows how to make shield and sword, or shield and lance, strike or fend together almost as one weapon.
THIRTEENTH-CENTURY SWORDSTHIRTEENTH-CENTURY SWORDS
Nevertheless, it is the strictly offensive weapons on which the noble warrior sets greatest store, and the weaponpar excellenceis the sword. Barons often love their swords perhaps more than they love their wives. They treat them almost as if they are persons. They try to keep them through their entire lives. According to the epics, the hero Roland liked to talk to his sword "Durendal," and Ogier to his "Brans." Conon swears one of his fiercest oaths, "by my good sword 'Hautemise,'" and Aimery has named his new sword "Joyeuse," after the great blade of Charlemagne.
Swords and Lances
There are many fashions in swords. You can always revive a flagging conversation by asking whether your companion likes a tapering blade or one of uniform thickness and weight. But the average weapon is about three inches wide at the hilt, and some thirty-two inches long in blade, slightly tapering. The hilt should be adorned with gilt, preferably set with pearls, and atthe end have a knob containing some small saints' relics placed behind a bit of crystal to reveal the holy objects. Conon's Hautemise thus contains some dried blood of St. Basil, several hairs of St. Maurice, and lint from the robe which St. Mary Magdalene wore after she repented. These relics are convenient, for whenever a promise must be authenticated, the oath taker merely claps his hand on his hilt, and his vow is instantly registered in heaven.
The lance is the other great weapon of the cavalier. Normally you use it in the first combats, and resort to your sword only after the lance is broken. The average lance is not more than ten feet long.[60]It has a lozenge-shape head of fine Poitou or Castile steel. Care must be taken in selecting straight, tough, supple wood for the shaft and in drying it properly, for the life of the warrior may depend on the reliability of his lance shaft, and the amount of sudden strain which it can stand in a horse-to-horse encounter. Ashwood is ordinarily counted the best. As a rule there is no handle on the butt. The art of grasping the round wood firmly, of holding the long weapon level with the hip, and finally of making the sharp tip strike squarely on the foeman's shield (however he may slant the latter) is a matter of training for wrist and eye which possibly exceeds all skill in fencing. The whole body works together in lance play. The horse must be guided by the knees; the shield must be shifted with the left hand, the lance with the right; the eye and nerves must be under perfect control—and then, with man and horse fused into oneflying weapon, away you go—what keener sport can there be in the world?[61]
HORSE TRAPPINGSHORSE TRAPPINGSRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
HORSE TRAPPINGSRestored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
HORSE TRAPPINGS
Restored by Viollet-Le-Duc, from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale.
Yet there is something more important to the warrior than his panoply. What is a cavalier without his horse? Few, indeed, are the humans whom the best of barons will set above his favorite destrer. Your horses are comrades in hunt, tourney, and battle. By their speed and intelligence they save your life when squire or vassal avail not. When they fail, commend your soul to the saints—you will soon be in purgatory. From boyhood a cavalier has almost lived in the saddle. When in danger he knows all the capacities of his charger, and trusts him accordingly. Such a companion is to be treated with care. He is fed daintily; he is combed and tricked out like a delicate woman, and when ill he is physicked with more wisdom possibly than will be vouchsafed to most Christian denizensof a castle. Stories abound of how horses have succored their masters and stood watch over them while sleeping; and even one tale of how, when a knight returned after seven years, he was not recognized by his betrothed, but was by his faithful destrer. Another anecdote is how a knight answered, on being asked, "What will be your chief joy in paradise?" "To see Blanchart, my old horse."
Such being the case, the greatest pains are taken with horse breeding. Rich seigneurs rejoice in valuable stallions, and even monasteries keep breeding stables. A fine horse is an even more acceptable gift to a potentate than a notable hawk. Many horses are called "Arabian," but probably these come from North Africa. In France are raised horses equal to the best, especially those powerful steeds not quite so swift as the Oriental, but better able to bear a knight in ponderous armor. Gascon horses are in particular demand, and Conon takes peculiar satisfaction in a brood mare from Bordeaux. To ride a mare, however, is regarded as unknightly—"the women to the women"—probably an old Teutonic prejudice.
Aimery, while squire, found the care of the count's horses a prime duty. This was no trifle, for De Bernon, like every magnate, always kept several palfreys, handsome steeds of comfortable pace for peace-time riding, besides his special destrer—the great fierce war horse for battle. "To mount the high horse"—the destrer—is to show one's pride, not by vain boasting, but by displaying oneself in terrible weapons.[62]Of course, however, the haughty young squire did not have to bother about hislord'sroncins, the ordinary steeds for the servants, or thesommiersfor the baggage, humbler creatures still.
The favorite color for horses is white; after that dappled gray; after that bay or chestnut. Poets exhaust their skill in describing beautiful steeds, as if they were beautiful women. Wrote one bard about a Gascon horse: "His hair outshone the plumage of a peacock; his head was lean; his eye gray like a falcon; his breast large and square; his crupper broad; his thigh round; and rump tight. All beholding him exclaimed 'they had never seen a handsomer creature!'"
The Great War Horses
A KNIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYA KNIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYFrom a bas-relief in the church of Saint-Nazaire at Carcassonne (Viollet-Le-Duc).
A KNIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURYFrom a bas-relief in the church of Saint-Nazaire at Carcassonne (Viollet-Le-Duc).
A KNIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
From a bas-relief in the church of Saint-Nazaire at Carcassonne (Viollet-Le-Duc).
Such precious beings have names of honor. Charlemagne's destrer was the great Tencendur. Roland charged on Veilantif. Carbonel, Palantamur, Grisart are familiar names; and Conon's dearly loved companion is Regibet, whom, with all his fierceness, the baron could ride safely without bit, bridle, or spurs. The harness of the war horse is still very simple. The elaborate trappings and armor belong to a later age, but the stirrups and high saddle can be gilded and even set with pearls. More noticeable still are the dozens of little bells on different parts of the harness, which jingle merrily like sleigh bells of another age, as the great steeds pound along.
Aimery has lived where hauberks, helms, shields, swords, and lances have been the small coin of conversation since he has been able to talk. He hascome to know horseflesh far better than he knows that other important mortal thing called "woman." He has now reached the age when he is extremely confident in his own abilities and equally confident that a fame like Roland's or Godfrey of Bouillon's is waiting him, provided the saints will assist. If he could have followed daydreaming, he would have been dubbed knight by the king himself after mighty deeds on the field of battle, while still covered with blood and grime; but such fair fortune comes only in the romances. At least, he is glad that he has a brother who is a brother indeed, and does not keep him in the background nor withhold from him his inheritance, as is the luck of so many younger sons.
Candidates for Knighthood
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTA THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTFrom sculpture in the cathedral of Rheims.
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTFrom sculpture in the cathedral of Rheims.
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHT
From sculpture in the cathedral of Rheims.
It is a great grief that Aimery's father is not living to see his sons "come to knighthood." A good father always looks forward to that happy day; although in some disordered fiefs the seigneur will have to watch jealously lest the moment his offspring become full-fledged warriors they are not worked upon by disloyal vassals who will tell them, "Your father is old, and cannot rule the barony; seize it for yourselves." Even kings have to guard against this danger. Philip Augustus has knighted his heir, Prince Louis, only after the latter has taken a solemn oath not to enroll armed followers or perform other sovereign acts, save with his father's specific consent.
Theoretically, any knight can grant adubbement toany person he thinks worthy; but actually a knight who dubs a villein, save in very exceptional circumstances, will jeopardize his own claim to nobility; and if he thrusts the honor on young, untried petty nobles, he will be laughed at, and their claims to the rank be promptly questioned. Fathers have often dubbed their sons, but better still, a young noble will seek the honor from his suzerain. Aimery learns with satisfaction that the Duke of Quelqueparte has consented to give the buffet of honor, for the higher the rank of the adubbing cavalier, the greater the glory of the ex-squire.
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTA THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTFrom a bas-relief at the cathedral of Rheims (Viollet-Le-Duc).
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHTFrom a bas-relief at the cathedral of Rheims (Viollet-Le-Duc).
A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY KNIGHT
From a bas-relief at the cathedral of Rheims (Viollet-Le-Duc).
The adubbement of knights is still a decidedly secular ceremony. Doubtless, the custom can be somewhat traced back to the crude rites whereby Germanic youths were initiated into the ranks of first-class warriors. Beyond the vigil in the church and the hearing of mass, there is not much that is religious about it. Clerical customs are indeed intruding. Young nobles like to visit Rome and be dubbed by the Pope. Others now are beginning to kneel before bishops and crave knighthood as a kind of lay consecration. Opinion, however, still frowns on this. Adubbement is a military business and churchmen had better keep their place. It will be more than a hundred years before religion and sentimentality can intrude much into what has long been a distinctly martial affair.
Ceremonies Before Adubbement
Easter, Ascension Day, Pentecost and St. John's dayare acceptable times for adubbements; but there are plenty of precedents for combining the ceremony with an important wedding, as it might be with the baptism of the heir to a barony. In the present case, moreover, as happens very often, Aimery, although the chief candidate for knighthood, is not alone. The duke will give the qualifying blow to five other young men, sons of the St. Aliquis vassals; and, indeed, twenty or more candidates are often knighted together at the king's court.
A BEGGARA BEGGAREnd of the twelfth century (from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale).
A BEGGAREnd of the twelfth century (from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale).
A BEGGAR
End of the twelfth century (from a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale).
The night before the ceremony the whole castle is in as great a stir as before the wedding. More guests, more feasting, more jongleurs, perpetual singing, music, noise. Upon the table in the great hall Adela and Alienor (as substitutes for Aimery's mother) have laid out for public admiration the costume which he will assume the next day. The articles are selected as carefully as for the bridal—especially the spotless white shirt, the costly robe of ermine, and the spurs of gold. A host of beggars swarm in the bailey, for this occasion calls for an unusual recklessness of almsgiving. Even the invited guests are throwing around coppers, thereby proving their nobility.
As for Aimery, when the evening falls he and his five companions take a complete bath, not without considerable solemnity. This act has genuine significance. "It is to efface all villainies of the past life, that thebather may come out pure."[63]There are no boisterous splashing and merrymaking as the youths sit in the long wooden bathtubs. While they dress themselves, smiling sergeants appear with presents. Relatives, the suzerain, noble friends, have sent them articles of costly apparel, usually silken and fur-lined, to wear during their "vigil at arms." These are very much like the gifts that are showered upon a bride.
It is about half a mile from St. Aliquis castle to the parish church. After their bath the six candidates go hither, attended by the youths who are to become their squires. The company is joyous, but not noisy; violent mirth were unbecoming. At the church the squires-to-be leave the others. The candidates enter the great dark building. On the high altar a lamp burns, and on the side altar of St. Martin, the warrior saint, is a blaze of candles before a picture showing the holy man in the costume of a knight giving half of his military cloak to a beggar. The new weapons and armor of the candidates have been laid upon this altar. Then the vigil begins. The six knights-elect must not converse. They can only stand, or kneel at preference, for the whole ten hours—a serious physical ordeal.
During the solemn silence they are expected to pray to all their patron saints and make solemn vows to govern their whole life. It is a time for serious meditation,and Aimery beseeches, "Give to me honor," loyally adding, "and to my brother long life!" He does not ask "honor" for Conon also, for that would imply the mighty baron still needed it. Then at last dawn creeps through the storied windows. An old priest enters and says mass, which the candidates follow gravely. At six in the morning, with the summer air bright and beautiful around them, they are all going again to the castle, merry and talkative in reaction from the long constraint.
Dressing the Candidates
Back in the castle Aimery is glad of an unusually hearty breakfast. Not merely has the long vigil of standing wearied him, but he will need all his strength for the ordeal of the day. Next he goes to his chamber, where the stripling who is to be his squire, the son of a friendly baron, puts on his new master's gala dress. White is the predominant color—"whiter than the snow of the April flowers." Friends of his brother come in to witness the process, and compliment the candidate very openly upon his broad shoulders, healthy complexion, and hardened sinews. These congratulations become more pronounced when a bustling servitor announces that "all is ready." Aimery strides into the courtyard. The place seems crammed with knights and dames, old and young, all in their best. Everybody (partly from politeness, partly from genuine enthusiasm) begins to call out: "How fine he is! A true St. Aliquis! Right worthy of his brother!"
Immediately two loud trumpets announce the ceremony. A great orchestra of jongleurs raises a clamor. The sight is magnificent. The castle court seems alive with color. The women are in striking costumes, with their long hair hanging braided on their shoulders. The knights wear either bliauts, green, blue, or red, orhauberks of dazzling brightness. The numerous priests present have on their finest robes. Even the monks seem less somber in their habits. All is noise, music, and animation.
The six candidates, followed by the whole rejoicing company, cross the bailey and the lists and go forth to the exercise ground by the garden. Here there is a platform covered with fine Saracen carpets. The Duke of Quelqueparte stands thereon, a majestic elderly warrior in gilded armor. The six candidates form a semicircle at the foot of the platform; then Aimery, as the brother of the giver of the fête, is the first to mount.
Immediately his "first sponsor" presents himself, a white-headed knight, a maternal uncle. Deliberately he kisses the candidate; then, kneeling, puts on his two golden spurs. As the uncle steps back, Conon and Olivier present themselves. They are the second and third sponsors. They pull a dazzling white steel hauberk over Aimery's head and adjust its cape. Upon this last they set the equally brilliant helmet, adorned with semiprecious stones. Then the fourth sponsor, the stately Count of Perseigne, girds on the candidate's sword, adding a few words of admonition how the younger man "must use it worthily"; to which the other responds by lifting the weapon and piously kissing the relics set in the hilt.
The Buffet of Knighthood
The four sponsors step back. The assembled jongleurs give a mighty crash of music. The duke lifts his clenched hand. "Bow the head!" he orders. "I will give you the blow." Aimery bows himself meekly to the greater lord, but his meekness is tested by the terrific stroke of his suzerain's fist, which sends him reeling. But the instant he recovers, the duke seizes him in comradely embrace. "Be brave, Sire Aimery. Recall that youare of a lineage famous both as seigneurs and as vassals, and do nothing base. Honor all knights. Give to the poor. Love God. Go!"
The happy cavalier replies: "I thank you, fair lord, and may God hear you. Let me always serve and love him." Then he descends the platform, and each of the other candidates mounts in turn to be knighted with similar ceremonies, although the sponsors (drawn from relatives or connections) will be different. The crowd standing round follows the proceedings with the uttermost interest, joining in a mighty shout each time the blow of honor is given. Then Conon, as master of ceremonies, waves to his marshal. "Bring in the horses!"
Immediately the new squires to the new knights appear, leading six steeds, faultlessly groomed and in beautiful harness—the gift of the baron to the candidates. The instant the horses are in front of the platform the new cavaliers break from their statuesque rigidity. Clothed as they are now in heavy hauberk and helmet, they run, each man to his horse, and try to leap to the saddle at one bound without touching foot to the stirrups. An anxious moment for them; an equally anxious moment for parents, brothers, or sisters. From the time a young nobleman is in his cradle his mother will discuss with his father, "Will he make the 'leap' when he is knighted?" It is one of the great tests of a martial education, and one that must be taken with the uttermost publicity. Truth to tell, Aimery and his friends have been practicing the feat with desperate energy for the last month. Done! All six have mounted fairly! Salvos of applause. His friends are congratulating Conon: "Such a brother!" The kinsfolk of the other young knights are similarly overwhelmed.
Concluding Exercises
Meantime the happy new cavaliers hold their horsesmotionlessfor an instant while their squires run to them with their lances and triangular shields. The lances have long bright pennons with three tails which float down upon their riders' helmets. This act performed, the riders put their steeds through all manner of gallops and caracoles, and next, "singing high with clear voice," away they go, flying toward a place on the exercise ground where thequintain—the wooden manikin warrior—has been set up.[64]To smash its shield and fling it to the ground with a single lance thrust is another unescapable test. This ordeal also is met by Aimery and his peers with tolerable glory for all. After this sport the new knights are expected tobehourder—that is, to indulge in mock duels with blunted weapons. These were not counted serious contests, but often enough, if blood is high and rivalry keen, they can take on the form of vigorous combats. To-day, however, everybody is in too good humor for violent blows; besides, the real tournament begins to-morrow, and it is best to keep strength and weapons until then.
The morning is now spent. Seigneurial appetites have been nobly whetted. The pavilions are again ready in the garden, and the cooks have prepared pasties, joints of meat, and great quantities of roast poultry, even as for the wedding feast. There is another round of gorging and guzzling, only this time the six new knights occupy the place of honor, and the master jongleur's story is not concerning sad Tristan, but about how brave Godfrey of Bouillon stormed Jerusalem.
Everybody is commenting upon the admirable grace, modesty, and proficiency in arms of Sire Aimery. A count has approached Conon already before dinner. "Fair Baron, you have a brother who is a credit to yourname. Is it true he is to receive Petitmur? I have a daughter in her fifteenth year; her dowry will be——"
But Conon tactfully shrugs his shoulders. "Fair Count, my brother will indeed receive Petitmur; but to-day he is knighted and can speak forhimself. Make your marriage proposals to him. I have no longer the right to control him."
FOOTNOTES:[60]Lances grew longer and stouter in the later Middle Ages. In the fourteenth century they were about fifteen feet long and were a kind of battering rams designed to dash one's opponent out of the saddle, even if his armor were not pierced.[61]Another weapon not infrequently used was the mace, an iron-headed war club with a fairly long handle. In powerful hands such a weapon could fell the sturdiest opponent, however good his armor. The mace was somewhat the favorite of martial bishops, abbots, and other churchmen, who thus evaded the letter of the canon forbidding clerics to "smite with the edge of the sword," or to "shed blood." The mace merely smote your foe senseless or dashed out his brains, without piercing his lungs or breast!Another weapon especially common in the early Middle Ages was the battle ax.[62]The destrer was so called because it was supposed to be led at the knight's right hand (dexter) and ready for instant use, as he traveled on his less powerful palfrey.[63]As chivalry took on its later and more religious cast, all the acts of an adubbement became clothed with allegorical meaning—e.g.besides the bath, the candidate must lie down (at least for a moment) upon a bed, because "it was an emblem of the rest which God grants to His followers, the brave knights." The candidate's snow-white shirt is to show that "he must keep his flesh from every stain if he would hope to reach heaven." His scarlet robe shows that he "must be ready to pour out his blood for Holy Church." His trunk hose of brown silk "remind him by their somber hue he must die." His white girdle "warns him that his soul should be stainless."[64]See p.185.
[60]Lances grew longer and stouter in the later Middle Ages. In the fourteenth century they were about fifteen feet long and were a kind of battering rams designed to dash one's opponent out of the saddle, even if his armor were not pierced.
[60]Lances grew longer and stouter in the later Middle Ages. In the fourteenth century they were about fifteen feet long and were a kind of battering rams designed to dash one's opponent out of the saddle, even if his armor were not pierced.
[61]Another weapon not infrequently used was the mace, an iron-headed war club with a fairly long handle. In powerful hands such a weapon could fell the sturdiest opponent, however good his armor. The mace was somewhat the favorite of martial bishops, abbots, and other churchmen, who thus evaded the letter of the canon forbidding clerics to "smite with the edge of the sword," or to "shed blood." The mace merely smote your foe senseless or dashed out his brains, without piercing his lungs or breast!Another weapon especially common in the early Middle Ages was the battle ax.
[61]Another weapon not infrequently used was the mace, an iron-headed war club with a fairly long handle. In powerful hands such a weapon could fell the sturdiest opponent, however good his armor. The mace was somewhat the favorite of martial bishops, abbots, and other churchmen, who thus evaded the letter of the canon forbidding clerics to "smite with the edge of the sword," or to "shed blood." The mace merely smote your foe senseless or dashed out his brains, without piercing his lungs or breast!
Another weapon especially common in the early Middle Ages was the battle ax.
[62]The destrer was so called because it was supposed to be led at the knight's right hand (dexter) and ready for instant use, as he traveled on his less powerful palfrey.
[62]The destrer was so called because it was supposed to be led at the knight's right hand (dexter) and ready for instant use, as he traveled on his less powerful palfrey.
[63]As chivalry took on its later and more religious cast, all the acts of an adubbement became clothed with allegorical meaning—e.g.besides the bath, the candidate must lie down (at least for a moment) upon a bed, because "it was an emblem of the rest which God grants to His followers, the brave knights." The candidate's snow-white shirt is to show that "he must keep his flesh from every stain if he would hope to reach heaven." His scarlet robe shows that he "must be ready to pour out his blood for Holy Church." His trunk hose of brown silk "remind him by their somber hue he must die." His white girdle "warns him that his soul should be stainless."
[63]As chivalry took on its later and more religious cast, all the acts of an adubbement became clothed with allegorical meaning—e.g.besides the bath, the candidate must lie down (at least for a moment) upon a bed, because "it was an emblem of the rest which God grants to His followers, the brave knights." The candidate's snow-white shirt is to show that "he must keep his flesh from every stain if he would hope to reach heaven." His scarlet robe shows that he "must be ready to pour out his blood for Holy Church." His trunk hose of brown silk "remind him by their somber hue he must die." His white girdle "warns him that his soul should be stainless."
[64]See p.185.
[64]See p.185.
When Conon decided to give a tourney as a climax to the wedding and adubbement festivities, he sent out several servitors of good appearance and loud voices to course the country for some twenty leagues around. These varlets bawled their proclamation at every crossroad, village, inn, and castle gate.
"The Wednesday after St. Ancildus Day, good people! In the meadow at St. Aliquis by the Claire. The Wednesday after St. Ancildus day! Let all come who love to see or to join in deeds of valor!"
This is "crying the tourney." As soon as the news spreads abroad, every petty sire takes council with his wife whether he can afford to go. The women begin to hunt up their best bliauts and furs; the men to furbish their armor. Soon various cavaliers, arranging with their friends, undertake to form challenge parties. They write on a scroll "At the castle of A—— there are seven knights who will be ready to joust with all comers to St. Aliquis." This they post on a tree by the wayside in order that other lordlings may organize similar parties to confront them.
Tourneys are to be reckoned as "little wars themselves, and the apprenticeship for great ones." They have an inconceivably prominent place in feudal life. Vainly the Church objects to them. All nobles will tell you that without tourneys you can never train good warriors.
Early Tourneys Were Battles
Tourneys, however, bring profit and pleasure to all manner of people—no cause for unpopularity. The "joy women," who rush to ply their sinful wiles despite every attempt to restrict them; the common villeins, who drop their work to enjoy one grand holiday; and the merchants, who really hold a small fair near the lists, all are delighted. As for men of gentle blood, an English chronicler can state the case alike for France and England: "A knight cannot shine in war if he has not been prepared for it in tourneys. He must have seen his own blood flow, have had his teeth crackle under the blow of his adversary, have been dashed to the earth with such force as to feel the weight of his opponent, and disarmed twenty times; he must twenty times have retrieved his failures, more than ever set on combat."Thenhe will be ready for actual war and can hope to conquer!
In early feudal days tourneys differed from battles merely in that the time and the place were fixed in advance, and fair conditions arranged. According to the epics, at "Charlemagne's court" the nobles often got tired of ordinary sports and "demanded a tourney." The results were merely pitched battles in which many were slain and many more wounded.
There was no luxury, pomp, or patronage by fair ladies at the earliest tourneys.[65]They were exceedingly violent pastimes in which "iron men" measured their strength and rejoiced in deadly blows. Since then tourneys have been getting less brutal. An important spectacular element is intruding. The rules of combat are becoming more elaborate, fewer knights are killed,and there is an appeal to something better than mere fighting instinct. On the other hand, in the thirteenth century jousts and mêlées are far from being mere displays of fine armor and fine manners. The military element is still uppermost. Furthermore, since the vanquished cavaliers are the prisoners of the victors and are subject to ransom, or at least their horses and armor are forfeit, certain formidable knights go from tourney to tourney deliberately seeking profit by taking prisoners. In short, so dangerous are tourneys even yet, that as recently as 1208, when Prince Louis, heir of King Philip, was knighted, his father made him swear he would merely watch them as spectator—for the life of a prince royal is too precious to risk in such affairs.
The popes have long since denounced tourneys. Innocent II, Eugenius III, Alexander III, and finally the great and wise Innocent III have prohibited Christians from participating in the same under peril of their souls. Butcui bono? Great barons who shudder at the thought of eating beef on Fridays defy the Church absolutely when it comes to a matter of "those creations of the devil" (to quote St. Bernard of Clairvaux) in which immortal souls are so often sped.
When Conon decides to add a tourney as a climax to his fête, a score of carpenters are hired down from Pontdebois to help out the levy of peasants in preparing the lists and lodges. Some of the guests have already come to the wedding and the adubbement, but many more arrive merely for the knightly contests. For these, of course, the baron affords only limited hospitality—a good place to pitch their tents, water and forage, with perhaps an invitation to the castle hall at dinner time to certain leaders. Many visitors can get accommodation in the better houses in the village, or at the monastery;but, the weather being fine, the majority prefer to set out their pavilions by the Claire, and the night before the sports begin there seem to be tents enough for an army.