His intolerance.
The knight knew no other argument than the sword to gainsay the infidel, and he was ready at all times to “thrust it into the belly of a heretic as far as it would go.” This was the feeling in all chivalric times; but St. Louis was the knight who had the merit of arraying it in the form of a maxim.
The wars of these soldiers of the church were not purely defensive. The cavalier fought openly and offensively against heretics. This was part of the spirit and essence of his character, encouraged by the crusades, and the principles of the military orders; and thus no knight’s military reputation was perfect, unless it was adorned with laurels which had been won in Heathennesse as well as in Christendom; for it was the general opinion, that, as Heaven had chosen learned clerks to maintain the holy Catholic faith with Scripture and reason against the miscreants and unbelievers, so knights had also been chosen, in order that the miscreants might be vanquished by force of arms.[169]
General nature of his virtue.
The highest possible degree of virtue was required of a knight: it was a maxim in chivalry, that he who ordained another a knight must be virtuous himself; for it was argued if the knight who made a knight were not virtuous, how could he give that which he had not; and no man could be a true son of chivalry unless he were of unsullied life.[170] He was not only to be virtuous, but without reproach; for he considered his honourable fame as a polished mirror, whose beauty may be lost by an impure breath and an unwholesome air, as well as by being broken into pieces. But there was nothing so abstract and refined in the nature of knightly virtue as has been generally thought. It was the duty of the cavalier to peril himself in the cause of the afflicted and of the church; and his exertions and endeavours to perform the conditions of his oath of chivalry were to be rewarded, not by the mere gratification of any metaphysical fancies, but by the hope of joy in heaven. This was the leading principle of his duty, however often it might be abused or forgotten; and this was the feeling which his oath taught him to encourage. But it did not exclude from his conduct the operation of personal motives. Thus, in displaying his love of justice, he displayed his chivalric skill; and by the same action he gratified his laudable aspirations for fame, and soothed and satisfied his conscience.
Certes all knights were not religious, even in the sense in which religion was understood in chivalric times. One cavalier made it his heart’s boast that he had burnt a church, with twenty-four monks, its contents.[171] The joyousness of youth often broke out in witty sentences, and the sallies of the buoyant spirits of the young cavalier were neither decent nor moral. When his imagination was inflamed by chivalry and love, he forgot his rosary, and said that paradise was only the habitation of dirty monks, priests, and hermits; and that, for his own part, he preferred the thoughts of going to the devil; and, in his fiery kingdom, he was sure of the society of kings, knights, squires, minstrels, and jugglers, and, above all the rest, the mistress of his heart.[172]
Fidelity to obligations.
Of his moral virtues perfect fidelity to a promise was very conspicuous, for his nobleness disdained any compromise with convenience or circumstances. However absurd the vow, still he was compelled to perform it in all the strictness of the letter. Notwithstanding the obvious inconveniences of such a course, a man frequently promised to grant whatever another should ask; and he would have lost the honour of his knighthood, if he had declined from his word when the wish of him to whom the promise had been made was stated. Sir Charles du Blois promised Sir Loyes of Spain whatever gift he might require for the service he had rendered him. “Then,” said Sir Loyes, “I require you to cause the two knights that are in prison in Favet to be brought hither, and give them to me to do with them at my pleasure, for they have injured me, and slain my nephew. I will strike their heads off before the town, in sight of their companions.” Sir Charles was obliged to comply and deliver up the knights; only remonstrating with Sir Loyes on the cruelty of putting two such valiant knights to death, and on the impolicy of such a measure, as giving occasion to their enemies of dealing in a similar manner with them when the fortune of war changed her face.[173]
Generousness.
Singular instance of it.
There was a generousness about chivalry unknown to other warfare. If in these days of improved jurisprudence we revert our eyes with horror and contempt to times when every question was decided by the sword, still an air of graceful courtesy hung over them, which charms the imagination. A cavalier always granted safe-conduct through his territories to all who required it, even to those who asserted pretensions, which, if established, would deprive him of his possessions. When Matilda landed near Arundel, to contend for the throne of England, Stephen gave her honourable conduct to the castle of his brother, the Earl of Gloucester.[174] This instance of chivalric generousness seems scarcely credible to those who view ancient times by the light of modern prejudices. It was not the passive virtue that declined to profit by any mischance happening to an adversary, but it was one knight drawing the sword, and placing it in the hands of his foe.