LETTER V.
The purpose of the casual hints, suggested in my last letter, was only to shew that the resemblance between the Heroic and Gothic ages is great: so great that the observation of it did not escape the old Romancers themselves, with whom, as an ingenious critic observes, the siege of Thebes and Trojan war were favourite stories; the characters and incidents of which they were mixing perpetually with their Romances[47]. And to this persuasion and practice of the Romance-writers Cervantes plainly alludes, when he makes Don Quixote say——If the stories of Chivalry be lies, so must it also be, that there ever was a Hector, or an Achilles, or a Trojan war[48]—a sly stroke of satire, by which this mortal foe of Chivalry would, I suppose, insinuate that the Grecian Romances were just as extravagant and as little credible, as the Gothic. Or, whatever his purpose might be, the resemblance between them, you see, is confessed, and hath now been shewn in so many instances that there will hardly be any doubt of it. And though you say true, that ignorance and barbarity itself might account for some circumstances of this resemblance; yet the parallel would hardly have held so long, and run so closely, if the civil condition of both had not been much the same.
So that when we see a sort of Chivalry, springing up among the Greeks, who were confessedly in a state resembling that of the feudal barons, and attended by the like symptoms and effects, is it not fair to conclude that the Chivalry of the Gothic times was owing to that common corresponding state, and received its character from it?
And this circumstance, by the way, accounts for the constant mixture, which the modern critic esteems so monstrous, of Pagan fable with the fairy tales of Romance. The passion for ancient learning, just then revived, might seduce the classic poets, such as Spenser and Tasso for instance, into this practice; but the similar turn and genius of ancient manners, and of the fictions founded upon them, would make it appear easy and natural in all.
I am aware, as you object to me, that, in the affair of religion and gallantry, the resemblance between the Hero and Knight is not so striking.
But the religious character of the Knight was an accident of the times, and no proper effect of his civil condition.
And that his devotion for the sex should so far surpass that of the Hero, is a fresh confirmation of my system.
For, though much, no doubt, might be owing to the different humour and genius of the East and West, antecedent to any customs and forms of government, and independent of them; yet the consideration had of the females in the feudal constitution will, of itself, account for this difference. It made them capable of succeeding to fiefs as well as the men. And does not one see, on the instant, what respect and dependence this privilege would draw upon them?
It was of mighty consequence who should obtain the grace of a rich heiress. And though, in the strict feudal times, she was supposed to be in the power and disposal of her superior Lord, yet this rigid state of things did not last long; and, while it did last, could not abate much of the homage that would be paid to the fair feudatary.
Thus, when interest had begun the habit, the language of love and flattery would soon do the rest. And to what that language tended, you may see by the constant strain of the Romances themselves. Some distressed damsel was the spring and mover of every Knight’s adventure. She was to be rescued by his arms, or won by the fame and admiration of his prowess.
The plain meaning of all which was this: that, as in those turbulent feudal times a protector was necessary to the weakness of the sex, so the courteous and valorous knight was to approve himself fully qualified for that office. And we find, he had other motives to set him on work than the mere charms and graces, though ever so bewitching, of the person addressed.
Hence then, as I suppose, the custom was introduced: and, when introduced, you will hardly wonder it should operate much longer and further than the reason may seem to require, on which it was founded.
If you still insist that I carry this matter too far, and that, in fact, the introduction of the female succession into fiefs was too late to justify me in accounting for the rise of feudal gallantry from that circumstance; you will only teach me to frame my answer in a more accurate manner.
First then, I shall confess that the way to avoid all confusion on this subject would be, to distinguish carefully between the state of things in the early feudal times, and that in the later, when the genius of the feudal law was much changed and corrupted; and that, whoever would go to the bottom of this affair, should keep a constant eye on this reasonable distinction.
But then, secondly, I may observe that this distinction is the less necessary to be attended to in the present case, because the law of female succession, whenever it was introduced, had certainly taken place long before the Romancers wrote, from whom we derive all our ideas of the feudal gallantry. So that, if you take their word for the gallantry of those times, you may very consistently, if you please, accept my account of it. For it is but supposing that the feudal gallantry, such as they paint it, was the offspring of that privilege, such as they saw the ladies then possess, of feudal succession. And the connexion between these two things is so close and so natural, that we cannot be much mistaken in deducing the one from the other.
In conclusion of this topic, I must just observe to you, that the two poems of Homer express in the liveliest manner, and were intended to expose, the capital mischiefs and inconveniencies arising from the political state of old Greece; the Iliad, the dissensions that naturally spring up amongst a number of independent chiefs; and the Odyssey, the insolence of their greater subjects, more especially when unrestrained by the presence of their sovereign.
These were the subjects of his pen. And can any thing more exactly resemble the condition of the feudal times, when, on occasion of any great enterprise, as that of the Crusades, the designs of the confederate Christian states were perpetually frustrated, or interrupted at least, by the dissensions of their leaders; and their affairs at home as perpetually distressed and disordered by domestic licence, and the rebellious usurpations of their greater vassals?
It is true, as to the charge of domestic licence, so exactly does the parallel run between old Greece and old England, I find one exception to it, in each country: and that one, a Romance-critic would shew himself very uncourteous, if he did not take a pleasure to celebrate. Guy, the renowned earl of Warwick, old stories say, returned from the holy wars to his lady in the disguise of a pilgrim or beggar, as Ulysses did to Penelope. What the suspicions were of the Knight and the Hero, the contrivance itself but too plainly declares. But their fears were groundless in both cases. Only the Knight seems to have had the advantage of the Prince of Ithaca: for, instead of rioting suitors to drive out of his castle, he had only to contemplate his good lady in the peaceful and pious office of distributing daily alms to XIII poor men.
No conclusion, however, is to be drawn from a single instance; and, in general, it is said, the adventurers into the Holy Land could no more depend on the fidelity of their spouses, than of their vassals. So that, in all respects, Jerusalem was to the European, what Troy had been to the Grecian heroes. And, though the Odyssey found no rival among the Gothic poems, you will think it natural enough from these corresponding circumstances, that Tasso’s immortal work should be planned upon the model of the Iliad.