The early part of the sixteenth century forms a very interesting æra of British chivalry; for it introduces to our notice James IV. of Scotland, a hero both of knighthood and romance. He was as expert and graceful in tournaments and jousts as any cavalier who was the theme of history or poetry. On occasion of his marriage with Margaret of England, his chivalric shows were splendid beyond example. He was wont to personate King Arthur, or to take the title and appearance of an imaginary creature, called the Savage Knight. His tilt-yards reflected the glories of the last king of the Britons, and the knights of the Round Table, or represented a wild and romantic country, with Highlanders clad in savage dresses guarding the barriers. Like a knight of the bye-gone time, he was a pilgrim as well as a soldier, and we will hope, for the purity of earlier days of chivalry, that his heroic predecessors did not often, like himself, turn aside from their pious peregrinations to wander amidst the bowers of castles, with ladies fair.
The romantic gallantry of his disposition was so well known, that cooler politicians used it to the purposes of their ambition. The French king, Louis XII., was abandoned by most of his allies, and was anxious to renew the ancient alliance of France with Scotland: yet England and Scotland were at that time at peace, and the two countries appeared to be united in friendship by the marriage of James with Margaret, the King of England’s sister. But Louis knew the character of the man whose aid he required, and he played upon it with admirable dexterity. In 1504, he sent, as his ambassador to the Scottish court, Bernard Stuart, Lord of Aubigny, one of the most distinguished cavaliers of France. This envoy admirably supported the objects of his master: he soon won the affections of James, and his discourses on wars and tournaments disposed the King to love the chivalric French.
A few years afterwards Louis, still continuing to play on his chivalric feelings, made his wife, Anne of Britanny, choose James for her knight and champion, to protect her from all her enemies. The idea of winning by this scheme the Scottish King to the purposes of France originated with Andrew Forman, Bishop of Moray, the Scottish ambassador at Paris, who, to promote his own aggrandisement, would have sacrificed king and country.[109] The agent of the scheme was La Motte, the French ambassador at Edinburgh, who was as skilful as his martial predecessor, the Lord of Aubigny, in flattering James to his ruin. He presented him letters from the French Queen, wherein, taking the style of a high-born damsel in distress, she termed him her knight, and, assuring him she had suffered much blame in defence of his honor, she beseeched him to advance but three steps into the English territory with his army, for the sake of his mistress. These letters were accompanied by a present of 14,000 crowns, and a ring from her own finger.[110] The chivalry and vanity of James were rouzed by these appeals, and he became the willing tool of French ambition.
The circumstances which succeeded his allying himself with France fall not within my province to detail. The battle of Flodden Field was their crown and conclusion; and although there was nothing chivalric in the battle itself, yet a few matters which preceded it come within my subject. Indeed, in the times regarding which I am writing, chivalry was no longer a national distinction, and therefore cannot be marked in public affairs; its lights fell only upon a few individuals.
Chivalric circumstances at Flodden.
On the fifth of September, the Earl of Surrey[111], who commanded the English forces, dispatched a herald from Alnwick to the Scottish camp, offering James battle on a particular day, (Friday, the 9th of September, 1513,) and James, like a gallant knight, accepted the challenge. He then removed his camp from Ford[112], and took a strong position on the ridge of Flodden hill, “one of the last and lowest eminences detached from the ridge of Cheviot.” On the sixth the English reached Wooller-haugh, a place within three miles of the Scottish camp, and, observing the admirable position of the foe, the Earl of Surrey formed a scheme which, he hoped, would make them relinquish their advantage. Knowing the King’s undaunted courage, and high sense of honour, he wrote a letter, subscribed by himself and all the great men in his army, reproaching him for having changed his ground, after he had accepted the offer of battle, and challenging him to descend, like a brave and honourable prince, into the spacious vale of Millfield, that lay between the two armies, and there decide the quarrel on fair and equal terms.[113] This scheme failed; for James was not at that moment so ridiculously romantic as to forego an advantage which his skill had obtained; and he only replied that he should expect the English on the day appointed for battle. Surrey would have been mad to have attacked him in his present position; and he, therefore, on the morning of the 8th of September, formed his army into marching order, crossed the Till near Wooller, progressed towards Berwick, and rested at Barmore wood. The Scottish nobles apprehended that it was the intention of the English to plunder the fertile country of the Merse; and they therefore importuned James to march to the defence of his own dominions: but the King declined, alleging that his honour was engaged to remain in his present station until the morrow, which was the appointed time for battle. On that morrow Surrey directed his course to the Tweed; but, suddenly changing his line of march, he repassed the Till at the bridge of Twissel. Before the army had entirely passed, Robert Borthwick, the commander of James’s artillery, entreated the permission of his sovereign to destroy the bridge, and thus break the enemy’s force; but the King gave a stern denial, declaring that he wished to have all his enemies before him, and to fight them fairly.[114] By this fatal folly James lost all the advantages of his position; for the English formed behind him, and Flodden was open and accessible to them. If personal bravery, independent of sageness, had been the character of a knight, James deserved all chivalric honours; for, disdaining the counsel to behold the battle afar off, he mingled boldly in the thickest of the press. The field was won by the English archers; but James did not live to repent the enthusiasm of his chivalry, which had cost his country so much blood, for he was killed within a lance’s length of Lord Surrey. The romantic chivalry of James was deeply injurious to Scotland. She had, in his reign, attained a considerable eminence of national prosperity, but the defeat at Flodden hurled her from her station. The country was “left a prey to foreign influence and intrigue, which continued till it ceased to form a separate kingdom: her finances were exhausted, her leaders corrupted, her dignity degraded, her commerce and her agriculture neglected.”[115]
CHAP. III.
THE LAST YEARS OF CHIVALRY IN ENGLAND.