FOOTNOTES:

“Sone aftur yu a whyle,The ryche Kynge of CesyleTo the Emperour gaun wende,A ryche present wyth hym he browght,A cloth that was wordylye wroght,He wellcomed hym at the hende.[54]“Syr Tergaunte, that nobyll knyghte hyghte,He presented the Emperour ryght,And sette hym on hys kne,Wyth that cloth rychyly dyght.Full of stones ther hit was pyght,At thykke as hit myght be,Off topaze and rubyes,And other stones of myche prys,That semely wer to se,Of crapowtes and nakette,As thykke ar they setteFor sothe as y say the.“The cloth was displayed sone,The Emperoer lokede therupone,And myght hyt not se,For glysteryng of the ryche stonRedy syght had he non,And sayde, How may thys be?The Emperour sayde on hygh,Sertes thys ys a fayry,Or ellys a vanyte.The Kyng of Cysyle answered than,So ryche a jewell ys ther nonIn all Crystyante.“The amerayle[55]dowghter of hethennesMade this cloth withouten lees,And wrowghte hit all with pride,And purtreyed hyt with gret honour,Wyth ryche golde and asowr,[56]And stones on ylke a side;And, as the story telles in honde,The stones that yn this cloth stondeSowghte they wer full wyde.Seven wynter hit was yn makynge,Or hit was browght to endynge,In herte ys not to hyde.“In that on korner made wasIdoyne and Amadas,With love that was so trewe,For they loveden hem wit honour,Portrayed they wer with trewe-love flour,Of stones bryght of hewe,Wyth carbankull and safere,Kasydonys and onyx so clere,Sette in golde newe,Deamondes and rubyes,And other stones of mychyll pryse,And menstrellys with her gle.“In that other korner was dyght,Trystram and Isowde so bryght,That semely wer to se,And for they loved hem ryght,As full of stones ar they dyght,As thykke as they may be,Of topase and of rubyes,And other stones of myche pryse,That semely wer to se,With crapawtes and nakette,Thykke of stones ar they sette,For sothe as y say the.“In the thyrdde korner, with gret honour,Was Florys and dame Blawncheflour,As love was hem betwene,For they loved wyth honour,Purtrayed they wer with trewe-love-flower,With stones bryght and shene.Ther wer knyghtes and senatowres,Emerawdes of gret vertues,To wyte withouten wene,Deamondes and koralle,Perydotes and crystall,And gode garnettes bytwene.“In the fowrthe korner was oonOf Babylone the sowdan sonne,The amerayle’s dowghter hym by,For hys sake the cloth was wrowght,She loved hym in hert and thowght,As testy-moyeth thys storye.The fayr mayden her byfornWas purtrayed an unykorn,With hys horn so hye,Flowres and bryddes on ylke a syde,Wyth stones that wer sowght wyde,Stuffed wyth ymagerye.“When the cloth to ende was wrought,To the sowdan sone hit was browght,That semely was of syghte:‘My fadyr was a nobyll man,Of the sowdan he hit wan,Wyth maystrye and myghth;For gret love he yaf hyt me,I brynge hit the in specyalte,Thys cloth ys rychely dyght.’He yaf hit the Emperour,He receyved hit wyth gret honour,And thonkede hym fayr and ryght.”

“Sone aftur yu a whyle,The ryche Kynge of CesyleTo the Emperour gaun wende,A ryche present wyth hym he browght,A cloth that was wordylye wroght,He wellcomed hym at the hende.[54]

“Syr Tergaunte, that nobyll knyghte hyghte,He presented the Emperour ryght,And sette hym on hys kne,Wyth that cloth rychyly dyght.Full of stones ther hit was pyght,At thykke as hit myght be,Off topaze and rubyes,And other stones of myche prys,That semely wer to se,Of crapowtes and nakette,As thykke ar they setteFor sothe as y say the.

“The cloth was displayed sone,The Emperoer lokede therupone,And myght hyt not se,For glysteryng of the ryche stonRedy syght had he non,And sayde, How may thys be?The Emperour sayde on hygh,Sertes thys ys a fayry,Or ellys a vanyte.The Kyng of Cysyle answered than,So ryche a jewell ys ther nonIn all Crystyante.

“The amerayle[55]dowghter of hethennesMade this cloth withouten lees,And wrowghte hit all with pride,And purtreyed hyt with gret honour,Wyth ryche golde and asowr,[56]And stones on ylke a side;And, as the story telles in honde,The stones that yn this cloth stondeSowghte they wer full wyde.Seven wynter hit was yn makynge,Or hit was browght to endynge,In herte ys not to hyde.

“In that on korner made wasIdoyne and Amadas,With love that was so trewe,For they loveden hem wit honour,Portrayed they wer with trewe-love flour,Of stones bryght of hewe,Wyth carbankull and safere,Kasydonys and onyx so clere,Sette in golde newe,Deamondes and rubyes,And other stones of mychyll pryse,And menstrellys with her gle.

“In that other korner was dyght,Trystram and Isowde so bryght,That semely wer to se,And for they loved hem ryght,As full of stones ar they dyght,As thykke as they may be,Of topase and of rubyes,And other stones of myche pryse,That semely wer to se,With crapawtes and nakette,Thykke of stones ar they sette,For sothe as y say the.

“In the thyrdde korner, with gret honour,Was Florys and dame Blawncheflour,As love was hem betwene,For they loved wyth honour,Purtrayed they wer with trewe-love-flower,With stones bryght and shene.Ther wer knyghtes and senatowres,Emerawdes of gret vertues,To wyte withouten wene,Deamondes and koralle,Perydotes and crystall,And gode garnettes bytwene.

“In the fowrthe korner was oonOf Babylone the sowdan sonne,The amerayle’s dowghter hym by,For hys sake the cloth was wrowght,She loved hym in hert and thowght,As testy-moyeth thys storye.The fayr mayden her byfornWas purtrayed an unykorn,With hys horn so hye,Flowres and bryddes on ylke a syde,Wyth stones that wer sowght wyde,Stuffed wyth ymagerye.

“When the cloth to ende was wrought,To the sowdan sone hit was browght,That semely was of syghte:‘My fadyr was a nobyll man,Of the sowdan he hit wan,Wyth maystrye and myghth;For gret love he yaf hyt me,I brynge hit the in specyalte,Thys cloth ys rychely dyght.’He yaf hit the Emperour,He receyved hit wyth gret honour,And thonkede hym fayr and ryght.”

We must not dismiss this subject without recording a species of mantle much celebrated in romance, and which must have tried the skill and patience of the fair votaries of the needle to the uttermost. We all have seen, perhaps we have some of us been foolish enough to manufacture, initials with hair, as tokens or souvenirs, or some other such fooleries. In our mothers’ and grandmothers’ days, when “fine marking” was thesine quâ nonof a good education, whole sets of linen were thus elaborately marked; and often have we marvelled when these tokens of grandmotherly skill and industry were displayed to our wondering and aching eyes. What then should we have thought of King Ryence’s mantle, of rich scarlet, bordered round with the beards of kings, sewed thereon full craftily by accomplished female hands. Thus runs the anecdote in the ‘Morte Arthur:’—

“Came a messenger hastely from King Ryence, of North Wales, saying, that King Ryence had discomfited and overcomen eleaven kings, and everiche of them did him homage, and that was thus: theygave him their beards cleane flayne off,—wherefore the messenger came for King Arthur’s beard, for King Ryence had purfeled a mantell with king’s beards, and there lacked for one a place of the mantell, wherefore he sent for his beard, or else he would enter into his lands, and brenn and slay, and never leave till he have thy head and thy beard. ‘Well,’ said King Arther, ‘thou hast said thy message, which is the most villainous and lewdest message that ever man heard sent to a king. Also thou mayest see my beard is full young yet for to make a purfell of; but tell thou the king that—or it be long—he shall do tomehomage on both his knees, or else he shall leese his head.’”

In Queen Elizabeth’s day, when they were beginning to skim the cream of the ponderous tomes of former times into those elaborate ditties from which the more modern ballad takes its rise, this incident was put into rhyme, and was sung before her majesty at the grand entertainment at Kenilworth Castle, 1575, thus:—

“As it fell out on a Pentecost day,King Arthur at Camelot kept his Court royall,With his faire queene dame Guenever the gay,And many bold barons sitting in hall;With ladies attired in purple and pall;And heraults in hewkes,[57]hooting on high,Cryed,Largesse, largesse, Chevaliers tres hardie.“A doughty dwarfe to the uppermost deasRight pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee;With steven[58]fulle stoute amids all the preas,Sayd, Nowe sir King Arthur, God save thee, and see!Sir Ryence of Northgales greeteth well thee,And bids thee thy beard anon to him send,Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.“For his robe of state is a rich scarlet mantle,With eleven kings beards bordered about,And there is room lefte yet in a kantle,[59]For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out:This must be done, be thou never so stout;This must be done, I tell thee no fable,Maugre the teethe of all thy rounde table.“When this mortal message from his mouthe past,Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower,The king fum’d; the queen screecht; ladies were aghast;Princes puff’d; barons blustered; lords began lower;Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower;Pages and yeomen yell’d out in the hall;Then in came Sir Kay, the king’s seneschal.“Silence, my soveraignes, quoth this courteous knight,And in that stound the stowre began still:Then the dwarfe’s dinner full deerely was dight;Of wine and wassel he had his wille:And when he had eaten and drunken his fill,An hundred pieces of fine coyned goldWere given this dwarfe for his message bold.“But say to Sir Ryence, thou dwarfe, quoth the king,That for his bold message I do him defye;And shortly with basins and pans will him ringOut of North Gales; where he and IWith swords, and not razors, quickly shall tryeWhether he or King Arthur will prove the best barbor:And therewith he shook his good sword Excalábor.”

“A doughty dwarfe to the uppermost deasRight pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee;With steven[58]fulle stoute amids all the preas,Sayd, Nowe sir King Arthur, God save thee, and see!Sir Ryence of Northgales greeteth well thee,And bids thee thy beard anon to him send,Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.

“For his robe of state is a rich scarlet mantle,With eleven kings beards bordered about,And there is room lefte yet in a kantle,[59]For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out:This must be done, be thou never so stout;This must be done, I tell thee no fable,Maugre the teethe of all thy rounde table.

“When this mortal message from his mouthe past,Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower,The king fum’d; the queen screecht; ladies were aghast;Princes puff’d; barons blustered; lords began lower;Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower;Pages and yeomen yell’d out in the hall;Then in came Sir Kay, the king’s seneschal.

“Silence, my soveraignes, quoth this courteous knight,And in that stound the stowre began still:Then the dwarfe’s dinner full deerely was dight;Of wine and wassel he had his wille:And when he had eaten and drunken his fill,An hundred pieces of fine coyned goldWere given this dwarfe for his message bold.

“But say to Sir Ryence, thou dwarfe, quoth the king,That for his bold message I do him defye;And shortly with basins and pans will him ringOut of North Gales; where he and IWith swords, and not razors, quickly shall tryeWhether he or King Arthur will prove the best barbor:And therewith he shook his good sword Excalábor.”

Drayton thus alludes to the same circumstance:—

“Then told they, how himselfe great Arthur did advance,To meet (with his Allies) that puissant force in France,By Lucius thither led; those Armies that while ereAffrighted all the world, by him strooke dead with feare:Th’ report of his great Acts that over Europe ran,In that most famous field he with the Emperor wan:As how great Rython’s selfe hee slew in his repaire,Who ravisht Howell’s Neece, young Helena the faire;And for a trophy brought the Giant’s coat away,Made of the beards of kings.”[60]——

And Spenser is too uncourteous in his adoption of the incident; for he not only levels tolls on the gentlemen’s beards, but even on the flowing and golden locks of the gentle sex:—

“Not farre from hence, upon yond rocky hill,Hard by a streight there stands a castle strong,Which doth observe a custom lewd and ill,And it hath long mayntaind with mighty wrong:For may no knight nor lady passe alongThat way, (and yet they needs must passe that way,By reason of the streight, and rocks among,)But they that Ladies locks doe shave away,And that knight’s berd for toll, which they for passage pay.“A shamefull use, as ever I did heare,Said Calidore, and to be overthrowne.But by what means did they at first it reare,And for what cause, tell, if thou have it knowne.Sayd then that Squire: The Lady which doth owneThis Castle is by name Briana hight;Then which a prouder Lady liveth none;She long time hath deare lov’d a doughty knight,And sought to win his love by all the meanes she might.“His name is Crudor, who through high disdaineAnd proud despight of his selfe-pleasing mynd,Refused hath to yeeld her love againe,Untill a Mantle she for him doe fynd,With beards of knights and locks of Ladies lynd,Which to provide, she hath this Castle dight,And therein hath a Seneschall assynd,Cald Maleffort, a man of mickle might,Who executes her wicked will, with worse despight.”[61]

“A shamefull use, as ever I did heare,Said Calidore, and to be overthrowne.But by what means did they at first it reare,And for what cause, tell, if thou have it knowne.Sayd then that Squire: The Lady which doth owneThis Castle is by name Briana hight;Then which a prouder Lady liveth none;She long time hath deare lov’d a doughty knight,And sought to win his love by all the meanes she might.

“His name is Crudor, who through high disdaineAnd proud despight of his selfe-pleasing mynd,Refused hath to yeeld her love againe,Untill a Mantle she for him doe fynd,With beards of knights and locks of Ladies lynd,Which to provide, she hath this Castle dight,And therein hath a Seneschall assynd,Cald Maleffort, a man of mickle might,Who executes her wicked will, with worse despight.”[61]

“To pluck the beard” of another has ever been held the highest possible sign of scorn and contumely; but it was certainly a refinement on the matter, for which we are indebted to the Morte Arthur, or rather probably, according to Bishop Percy, to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s history originally, for the unique and ornamental purpose to which these despoiled locks were applied. So particularly anxious was Charlemagne to shew this despite to an enemy that, as we read in Huon de Bordeaux, he despatched no less than fifteen successive messengers from France to Babylon to pull the beard of Admiral Gaudisse. And this, by no means pleasant operation, was to be accompanied by one even still less inviting.

“Alors le duc Naymes, & tres tous les Barons, s’en retournèrent au palais avec le Roy, lequel s’assist sur un banc doré de fin or, & les Barons tous autour de luy. Si commanda qu’on luy amenast Huon, lequel il vint, et se mist à genoux devant le roy, ou luy priant moult humblement que pitié & mercy voulsist avoir de luy. Alors le roy le voyant en sa presence luy dist: Huon puisque vers moy veux estre accordé, si convient que faciezce que je vous or donneray. Sire, ce dist Huon, pour obeir à vous, il n’est aujourd’huy chose en ce monde mortel, que corps humain puisse porter, que hardiment n’osasse entreprendre, ne ia pour peur de mort ne le laisseray à faire, & fust à aller jusques à l’arbre sec, voire jusques aux portaux d’enfer combattre aux infernaux, comme fist le fort Hercule: avant qu’à vous ne fusse accordé. Huon, ce dist Charles, je cuide qu’en pire lieu vous envoyeray, car, de quinze messages qui de par moy y ont este envoyez, n’en est par revenu un seul homme. Si te diray ou tu iras, puis que tu veux qui de toy aye mercy, m’a volonté est, qu’il te convient aller en la cité de Babylonne, par devers diray, & gardes que sur ta vie ne face faute, quand là seras venu tu monteras en son palais, là ou tu attendras l’heure de son disner & que tu le verras assis à table. Si convient que tu sois armé de toutes armes, l’espee nuë au poing, par tel si que le premier & le plus grand baron que tu verras manger à sa table tu luy trencheras le chef quel qu’il soit, soit Roy, ou Admiral. Et apres ce te convient tant faire que la belle Esclarmonde fille à l’Amiral Gaudisse tu fiances, & la baises trois fois en la presence de son pere, & de tous sous qui la seront presens, car je veux que tu sçaches que c’est la plus belle pucelle qu’aujourd’huy soit en vie, puis apres diras de par moy à l’Admiral qu’il m’envoye mille espreuiers, mille ours, mille viautres, tous enchainez, & mille jeune valets, & mille des plus belles pucelles de son royaume, & avecques ce, convientque tu me rapportes une poignee de sa barbe, et quatre de ses dents machoires. Ha! Sire, dirent les Barons, biendesirez sa mort, quant de tel message faire luy enchargez, vous dites la verité ce dit le Roy, car si tant ne fait que j’aye la barbe & les dents machoires sans aucune tromperie ne mensonge, jamais ne retourne en France, ne devant moi ne se monstre. Car je le ferois pendre & trainer. Sire, ce dit Huon, m’avez vous dit & racompté tout ce que voulez que je face. Oui dist le Roy Charles ma volonté est telle, si vers moy veux avoir paix. Sire ce dit Huon, au plaisir de nostre Seigneur, je feray & fourniray vostre message.”

In what precise way the beards were sewed on the mantles we are not exactly informed. Whether this royal exuberance was left to shine in its own unborrowed lustre, its own naked magnificence, as too valuable to be intermixed with the grosser things of earth: whether it was thinly scattered over the surface of the “rich scarlet;” or whether it was gathered into locks, perhaps gemmed round with orient pearl, or clustered together with brilliant emeralds, sparkling diamonds, or rich rubies—“Sweets to the sweet:” whether it was exposed to the vulgar gaze on the mantle, or whether it was so arranged that only at the pleasure of the mighty wearer its radiant beauties were visible:—on all these deeply interesting particulars we should rejoice in having any information; but, alas! excepting what we have recorded, not one circumstance respecting them has “floated down the tide of years.” But we may perhaps form a correct idea of them from viewing a shield of human hair in the museum of the United Service Club, which may be supposed to have beencompiled(so tospeak) with the same benevolent feelings as that of the heroes to whom we have been alluding. It is from Borneo Island, and is formed of locks of hair placed at regular intervals on a ground of thin tough wood: a refined and elegant mode of displaying the scalps of slaughtered foes. These coincidences are curious, and may serve at any rate to show that King Ryence’s mantle was not theinventionof the penman; but, in all probability, actually existed.

The ladies of these days did not confine their handiwork merely to the adornment of the person. We have seen that among the Egyptians the couches that at night were beds were in the daytime adorned with richly wrought coverlets. So amongst the classical nations

“———the menial fair that round her wait,At Helen’s beck prepare the room of state;Beneath an ample portico they spreadThe downy fleece to form the slumberous bed;And o’er soft palls of purple grain, unfoldRich tapestry, stiff with inwoven gold.”

And during the middle ages the beds, not excluded from the day apartments, often gave gorgeous testimony of the skill of the needlewoman, and were among the richest ornaments of the sitting room, so much fancy and expense were lavished on them. The curtains were often made of very rich material, and usually adorned with embroidery. They were often also trimmed with expensive furs: Philippa of Hainault had a bed on which sea-syrenswere embroidered. The coverlid was often very rich:

“The ladi lay in hire bed,With riche clothes bespred,Of gold and purpre palle.”[62]

“Here beds are seen adorned with silk and gold.”[63]

“———on a bed design’dWith gay magnificence the fair reclin’d;High o’er her head, on silver columns rais’d,With broidering gems her proud pavilion blaz’d.”

“Thence pass’d into a bow’r, where stood a bed,With milkwhite furs of Alexandria spread:Beneath, a richly broider’d vallance hung;The pillows were of silk; o’er all was flungA rare wrought coverlet of phœnix plumes,Which breathed, as warm with life, its rich perfumes.”[64]

The array of the knights of these days was gorgeous and beautiful; and though the materials might be in themselves, and frequently were costly, still were they entirely indebted to the female hand for the rich elegance of thetout ensemble. And the custom of disarming and robing knights anew after the conflict, whether of real or mimic war, to which we have alluded as a practice of classical antiquity, was as much or even more practised now, and afforded to the ladies an admirable opportunity of exhibiting alike their preference, their taste, and their liberality.

“Amadis and Agrayes proceeded till they came to the castle of Torin, the dwelling of that fair young damsel, where they were disarmed andmantles given them, and they were conducted into the hall.”[65]

“Thus they arrived at the palace, and there was he (the Green Sword Knight) lodged in a rich chamber, and was disarmed, and his hands and face washed from the dust, and they gave him a rose-coloured mantle.”[66]

The romance of “Ywaine and Gawin” abounds in instances:

“A damisel come unto me,The semeliest that ever I se,Lufsumer lifed never in land,Hendly scho toke me by the hand,And sone that gentyl creatureAl unlaced myne armure;Into a chamber scho me led,And with a mantil scho me cled;It was of purpur, fair and fine;And the pane of ermyne.”

Again—

“The maiden redies hyr fal rath,[67]Bilive sho gert syr Ywaine bath,And cled him sethin[68]in gude scarlet,Forord wele with gold fret,A girdel ful riche for the nanes,Of perry[69]and of precious stanes.”

And—

“The mayden was bowsom and bayne[70]Forto unarme syr Ywayne,Serk and breke both sho hym broght,That ful craftily war wroght,Of riche cloth soft als the sylk,And tharto white als any mylk.Sho broght hym ful riche wedes to wer.”

On the widely acknowledged principle of “Love me, love my dog,” the steed of a favoured knight was often adorned by the willing fingers of the fair.

“Each damsel and each dame who her obeyed,She task’d, together with herself, to sew,With subtle toil; and with fine gold o’erlaidA piece of silk of white and sable hue:With this she trapt the horse.”[71]

The tabards or surcoats which knights wore over their armour was the article of dress in which they most delighted to display their magnificence. They varied in form, but were mostly made of rich silk, or of cloth of gold or silver, lined or trimmed with choice and expensive furs, and usually, also, having the armorial bearings of the family richly embroidered. Thus were women even the heralds of those times. Besides the acknowledged armorial bearings, devices were often wrought symbolical of some circumstance in the life of the wearer. Thus we are told in Amadis that the Emperor of Rome, on his black surcoat, had a golden chain-work woven, which device he swore never to lay aside till he had Amadis in chains. The same romance gives the following incident regarding a surcoat.

“Then Amadis cried to Florestan and Agrayes, weeping as he spake, good kinsman, I fear we have lost Don Galaor, let us seek for him. They went to the spot where Amadis had smitten down King Cildadan, and seen his brother last on foot; but so many were the dead who lay there that they saw him not, till as they moved away the bodies, Florestanknew him by the sleeve of hissurcoat, which was of azure, worked with silver flowers, and then they made great moan over him.”

The shape of them, as we have remarked, varied considerably; besides minor alterations they were at one time worn very short, at another so long as to trail on the ground. But this luxurious style was occasionally attended with direful effects. Froissart names a surcoat in which Sir John Chandos was attired, which was embroidered with his arms in white sarsnet, argent a field gules, one on his back and another on his breast. It was a long robe which swept the ground, and this circumstance, most probably, caused the untimely death of one of the most esteemed knights of chivalry.

Sir John Chandos was one of the brightest of that chivalrous circle which sparkled in the reign of Edward the Third. He was gentle as well as valiant; he was in the van with the Black Prince at the battle of Cressy; and at the battle of Poictiers he never left his side. His death was unlooked for and sudden. Some disappointments had depressed his spirits, and his attendants in vain endeavoured to cheer them.

“And so he stode in a kechyn, warmyng him by the fyre, and his servantes jangled with hym, tothētentto bring him out of his melancholy; his servantes had prepared for hym a place to rest hym: than he demanded if it were nere day, andtherewttherecāea man into the house, and came before hym, and sayd,

‘Sir, I have brought you tidynges.’

‘What be they, tell me?’

‘Sir, surely thefrēchmenbe rydinge abrode.’

‘How knowest thou that?’

‘Sir,’ sayd he, ‘I departed fro saynt Saluyn with them.’

‘What way be they ryden?’

‘Sir, I can nat tell you the certentie, but surely they take the highway to Poiters.’

‘WhatFrēchmenbe they; canst thou tell me?’

‘Sir, it is Sir Loys of Saynt Julyan, and Carlovet the Breton.’

‘Well, quoth Sir Johan Chandos, I care nat, I have no lyst this night to ryde forthe: they may happe to beencoūtredthough I be nat ther.’

“And so he taryed there styll a certayne space in a gret study, and at last, when he had well aduysed hymselfe, he sayde, ‘Whatsoever I have sayd here before, I trowe it be good that I ryde forthe; I must retourne to Poictiers, and anone it will be day.’

‘That is true sir,’ quoth the knightes about hym.

‘Then,’ he sayd, ‘make redy, for I wyll ryde forthe.’

“And so they dyd.”

The skirmish commenced; there had fallen a great dew in the morning, in consequence of which the ground was very slippery; the knight’s foot slipped, and in trying to recover himself, it became entangled in the folds of his magnificentsurcoat; thus the fall was rendered irretrievable, and whilst he was down he received his death blow.

The barons and knights were sorely grieved. They “lamentably complayned, and sayd, ‘A, SirJohan Chandos, the floure of all chivalry, vnhappely was that glayue forged that thus hathwoūdedyou, and brought you in parell of dethe:’ they wept piteously that were about hym, and he herde and vnderstode them well, but he could speke no worde.”—“For his dethe, his frendes, and also some of his enemyes, were right soroufull; the Englysshmen loued hym, bycause all noblenesse was founde in hym; the frenchmen hated him, because they doubted hym; yet I herde his dethe greatly complayned among right noble and valyant knightes of France[72].”

Across this surcoat was worn the scarf, the indispensable appendage of a knight when fully equipped: it was usually the gift of his “ladye-love,” and embroidered by her own fair hand.

And a knight would encounter fifty deaths sooner than part with this cherished emblem. It is recorded of Garcia Perez de Vargas, a noble-minded Spanish knight of the thirteenth century, that he and a companion were once suddenly met by a party of seven Moors. His friend fled: but not so Perez; he at once prepared himself for the combat, and while keeping the Moors at bay, who hardly seemed inclined to fight, he found that his scarf had fallen from his shoulder.

“He look’d around, and saw the Scarf, for still the Moors were near,And they had pick’d it from the sward, and loop’d it on a spear.‘These Moors,’ quoth Garci Perez, ‘uncourteous Moors they be—Now, by my soul, the scarf they stole, yet durst not question me!“‘Now, reach once more my helmet.’ The Esquire said him, nay,‘For a silken string why should you fling, perchance, your life away?’‘I had it from my lady,’ quoth Garci, ‘long ago,And never Moor that scarf, be sure, in proud Seville shall show.’“But when the Moslems saw him, they stood in firm array:He rode among their armed throng, he rode right furiously.‘Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady’s pledge,’He cried, and ever as he cried, they felt his faulchion’s edge.“That day when the lord of Vargas came to the camp alone,The scarf, his lady’s largess, around his breast was thrown:Bare was his head, his sword was red, and from his pommel strungSeven turbans green, sore hack’d I ween, before Garci Perez hung.”

“‘Now, reach once more my helmet.’ The Esquire said him, nay,‘For a silken string why should you fling, perchance, your life away?’‘I had it from my lady,’ quoth Garci, ‘long ago,And never Moor that scarf, be sure, in proud Seville shall show.’

“But when the Moslems saw him, they stood in firm array:He rode among their armed throng, he rode right furiously.‘Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady’s pledge,’He cried, and ever as he cried, they felt his faulchion’s edge.

“That day when the lord of Vargas came to the camp alone,The scarf, his lady’s largess, around his breast was thrown:Bare was his head, his sword was red, and from his pommel strungSeven turbans green, sore hack’d I ween, before Garci Perez hung.”

It casts a redeeming trait on this butchering sort or bravery to find that when the hero returned to the camp he steadily refused to reveal the name of the person who had so cravenly deserted him.

But the favours which ladies presented to a knight were various; consisting of “jewels, ensigns of noblesse, scarfs, hoods, sleeves, mantles, bracelets, knots of ribbon; in a word, some detached part of their dress.” These he always placed conspicuously on his person, and defended, as he would have done his life. Sometimes a lock of his fair one’s hair inspired the hero:

“Than did he her heere unfolde,And on his helme it set on hye,With rede thredes of ryche golde,Whiche he had of his lady.Full richely his shelde was wrought,With asure stones and beten golde,But on his lady was his thought,The yelowe heere what he dyd beholde.”[73]

It is recorded in “Perceforest,” that at the end of one tournament “the ladies were so stripped of their head attire, that the greatest part of them were quite bareheaded, and appeared with their hair spread over their shoulders yellower than the finest gold; their robes also were without sleeves; for all had been given to adorn the knights; hoods, cloaks, kerchiefs, stomachers, and mantuas. But when they beheld themselves in this woful plight, they were greatly abashed, till, perceiving every one was in the same condition, they joined in laughing at this adventure, and that they should have engaged with such vehemence in stripping themselves of their clothes from off their backs, as never to have perceived the loss of them.”

A sleeve (more easily detached than we should fancy those of the present day) was a very usual token.

Elayne, the faire mayden of Astolat gave Syr Launcelot “a reed sleeve of scarlet wel embroudred with grete perlys,” which he wore for a token on his helmet; and in real life it is recorded that in a serious, but not desperate battle, at the court of Burgundy, in 1445, one of the knights received from his lady a sleeve of delicate dove colour, elegantly embroidered; and he fastened this favour on his left arm.

Chevalier Bayard being declared victor at the tournament of Carignan, in Piedmont, he refused, from extreme delicacy, to receive the reward assigned him, saying, “The honour he had gained was solely owing to the sleeve, which a lady had given him, adorned with a ruby worth a hundred ducats.” Thesleeve was brought back to the lady in the presence of her husband; who knowing the admirable character of the chevalier, conceived no jealousy on the occasion: “The ruby,” said the lady, “shall be given to the knight who was the next in feats of arms to the chevalier; but since he does me so much honour as to ascribe his victory to my sleeve, for the love of him I will keep it all my life.”

Another important adjunct to the equipment of a knight was the pennon; an ensign or streamer formed of silk, linen, or stuff, and fixed to the top of the lance. If the expedition of the soldier had for its object the Holy Land, the sacred emblem of the cross was embroidered on the pennon, otherwise it usually bore the owner’s crest, or, like the surcoat, an emblematic allusion to some circumstance in the owner’s life. Thus, Chaucer, in the “Knighte’s Tale,” describes that of Duke Theseus:

“And by his banner borne is hispenonOf gold ful riche, in which ther was ybeteThe Minotaure which that he slew in Crete.”

The account of the taking of Hotspur’s pennon, and his attempt at its recapture, is abridged by Mr. Mills[74]from Froissart. It is interesting, as displaying the temper of the times about these comparatively trifling matters, and being the record of history, may tend to justify our quotations of a similar nature from romance.

“In the reign of Richard the Second, the Scots commanded by James, Earl of Douglas, taking advantage of the troubles between the King and hisParliament, poured upon the south. When they were sated with plunder and destruction they rested at Newcastle, near the English force which the Earl of Northumberland and other border chieftains had hastily levied.

“The Earl’s two sons were young and lusty knights, and ever foremost at the barriers to skirmish. Many proper feats of arms were done and achieved. The fighting was hand to hand. The noblest encounter was that which occurred between the Earl Douglas and Sir Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur. The Scot won the pennon of his foeman; and in the triumph of his victory he proclaimed that he would carry it to Scotland, and set it on high on his castle of Dalkeith, that it might be seen afar off.

“Percy indignantly replied, that Douglas should not pass the border without being met in a manner which would give him no cause for boasting.

“With equal spirit the Earl Douglas invited him that night to his lodging to seek for his pennon.

“The Scots then retired and kept careful watch, lest the taunts of their leader should urge the Englishmen to make an attack. Percy’s spirit burnt to efface his reproach, but he was counselled into calmness.

“The Scots then dislodged, seemingly resolved to return with all haste to their own country. But Otterbourn arrested their steps. The castle resisted the assault; and the capture of it would have been of such little value to them that most of the Scotch knights wished that the enterprise should be abandoned.

“Douglas commanded, however, that the assaultshould be persevered in, and he was entirely influenced by his chivalric feelings. He contended that the very difficulty of the enterprise was the reason of undertaking it; and he wished not to be too far from Sir Henry Percy, lest that gallant knight should not be able to do his devoir in redeeming his pledge of winning the pennon of his arms again.

“Hotspur longed to follow Douglas and redeem his badge of honour; but the sage knights of the country, and such as were well expert in arms, spoke against his opinion, and said to him, ‘Sir, there fortuneth in war oftentimes many losses. If the Earl Douglas has won your pennon, he bought it dear, for he came to the gate to seek it, and was well beaten: another day you shall win as much of him and more. Sir, we say this because we know well that all the power of Scotland is abroad in the fields; and if we issue forth and are not strong enough to fight with them (and perchance they have made this skirmish with us to draw us out of the town), they may soon enclose us, and do with us what they will. It is better to loose a pennon than two or three hundred knights and squires, and put all the country to adventure.’”

By such words as these, Hotspur and his brother were refrained, but the coveted moment came.

“The hostile banners waved in the night breeze, and the bright moon, which had been more wont to look upon the loves than the wars of chivalry, lighted up the Scottish camp. A battle ensued of as valiant a character as any recorded in the pages of history; for there was neither knight nor squire but what did his devoir and fought hand to hand.”

The Scots remained masters of the field: but the Douglas was slain, and this loss could not be recompensed even by the capture of the Percy.

Little did the “gentle Kate” anticipate this catastrophe when her fairy fingers with proud and loving alacrity embroidered on the flowing pennon the inspiring watchword of her chivalric husband and his noble family—Esperance.

FOOTNOTES:[40]Historical Memoirs of Queens of England.—H. Lawrance.[41]Emare.[42]Bete—inlayed, embroidered.[43]Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xv.[44]Ibid. bk. iv. ch. iii.[45]Orl. Fur.: transl. by Rose.[46]Samyte—rich silk.[47]Pelored—furred.[48]Lybeaus Disconus.[49]Schyre—clear.[50]Hende—kind, obliging.[51]Alner—pouch, bag or purse.[52]Launfal.[53]Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xxx.[54]Hende—kind, civil, obliging.[55]Saracen king.[56]Asowr—azure.[57]Hewke—herald’s coat.[58]Steven—voice, sound[59]Kantle—a corner.[60]Drayton’s Polyolbion, Song 4.[61]Faerie Queene. Book vi.[62]The Kyng of Tars.[63]Orl. Fur.[64]Partenopex of Blois.[65]Amadis of Gaul.[66]Ibid.[67]Rath—speedily.[68]Sethin—afterward.[69]Perry—jewels.[70]Bayne—ready.[71]Orl. Fur., canto 23.[72]Froissart, by Lord Berners, vol. i. p. 270.[73]The Fair Lady of Faguell.[74]Hist. Chivalry.

[40]Historical Memoirs of Queens of England.—H. Lawrance.

[41]Emare.

[42]Bete—inlayed, embroidered.

[43]Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xv.

[44]Ibid. bk. iv. ch. iii.

[45]Orl. Fur.: transl. by Rose.

[46]Samyte—rich silk.

[47]Pelored—furred.

[48]Lybeaus Disconus.

[49]Schyre—clear.

[50]Hende—kind, obliging.

[51]Alner—pouch, bag or purse.

[52]Launfal.

[53]Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xxx.

[54]Hende—kind, civil, obliging.

[55]Saracen king.

[56]Asowr—azure.

[57]Hewke—herald’s coat.

[58]Steven—voice, sound

[59]Kantle—a corner.

[60]Drayton’s Polyolbion, Song 4.

[61]Faerie Queene. Book vi.

[62]The Kyng of Tars.

[63]Orl. Fur.

[64]Partenopex of Blois.

[65]Amadis of Gaul.

[66]Ibid.

[67]Rath—speedily.

[68]Sethin—afterward.

[69]Perry—jewels.

[70]Bayne—ready.

[71]Orl. Fur., canto 23.

[72]Froissart, by Lord Berners, vol. i. p. 270.

[73]The Fair Lady of Faguell.

[74]Hist. Chivalry.

The termtapestryortapistry(fromtapisser, to line, from the Latin wordtapes, a cover of a wall or bed), is now appropriated solely to woven hangings of wool and silk; but it has been applied to all sorts of hangings, whether wrought entirely with the needle (as originally indeed all were) or in the loom, whether composed of canvass and wool, or of painted cloth, leather, or even paper. This wide application of the term seems to be justified by the derivation quoted above, but its present use is much more limited.

In the thirteenth century the decorative arts had attained a high perfection in England. The palace of Westminster received, under the fostering patronage of Henry III., a series of decorations, the remains of which, though long hidden, have recently excited the wonder and admiration of the curious.[75]“Near this monastery (says an ancient Itinerary) stands the most famous royal palace of England; in which is that celebrated chamber, on whose walls all the warlike histories of the whole Bible are painted with inexpressible skill, and explained by a regular and complete series of texts, beautifully written inFrench over each battle, to the no small admiration of the beholder, and the increase of royal magnificence.”

Round the walls of St. Stephen’s chapel effigies of the Apostles were painted in oil; (which was thus used with perfectness and skill two centuries before its presumed discovery by John ab Eyck in 1410,) on the western side was a grand composition of the day of Judgment: St. Edward’s or the “Painted Chamber,” derived the latter name from the quality and profuseness of its embellishments, and the walls of the whole palace were decorated with portraits or ideal representations, and historical subjects. Nor was this the earliest period in which connected passages of history were painted on the wainscot of apartments, for the following order, still extant, refers to therenovationof what must previously—and at some considerable interval of time probably, have been done.

“Anno, 1233, 17 Hen. 3. Mandatum est Vicecomiti South’ton quod Cameram regis lambruscatam de castro Winton depingi faciat eisdem historiis quibus fuerat pri’us depicta.”

About 1312, Langton, Bishop of Litchfield, commanded the coronation, marriages, wars, and funeral of his patron King Edward I., to be painted in the great hall of his episcopal palace, which he had newly built.

Chaucer frequently refers to this custom of painting the walls with historical or fanciful designs.

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