Scenes and Characters of the Middle Ages / Third Edition

by Edward Lewes Cutts

Here is the kind of invitation they were sure to receive from gentlemen living peaceably on their estates, but sympathising with the high spirit and love of adventure which sent young knights a-wandering through their woods and meadows, and under their castle walls:—Sir Tristram and Sir Gareth “were ware of a knight that came riding against [towards] them unarmed, and nothing about him but a sword; and when this knight came nigh them he saluted them, and they him again. ‘Fair knights,’ said that knight, ‘I pray you, inasmuch as ye are knights errant, that ye will come and see my castle, and take such as ye find there, I pray you heartily.’ And so they rode with him to his castle, and there they were brought to the hall that was well appareled, and so they were unarmed and set at a board.”

We have already heard in these brief extracts of knights lodging at castles and abbeys: we often find them received at manor-houses. Here is one of the most graphic pictures:—“Then Sir Launcelot mounted upon his horse and rode into many strange and wild countries, and through many waters and valleys, and evil was he lodged. And at the last, by fortune, it happened him against a night to come to a poor courtilage, and therein he found an old gentleman, which lodged him with a good will, and there he and his horse were well cheered. And when time was, his host brought him to a fair garret over a gate to his bed. There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell in sleep. So, soon after, there came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great haste. And when Sir Launcelot heard this, he arose up and looked out at the window, and saw by the moonlight three knights that came riding after that one man, and all three lashed upon him at once with their swords, and that one knight turned on them knightly again, and defended himself.” And Sir Launcelot, like an errant knight, “took his harness and went out at the window by a sheet,” and made them yield, and commanded them at Whit Sunday to go to King Arthur’s court, and there yield them unto Queen Guenever’s grace and mercy; for so errant knights gave to their lady-loves the evidences of their prowess, and did them honour, by sending them a constant succession of vanquished knights, and putting them “unto her grace and mercy.”

Very often the good knight in the midst of forest or wild found a night’s shelter in a friendly hermitage, for hermitages, indeed, were established partly to afford shelter to belated travellers. Here is an example. Sir Tor asks the dwarf who is his guide, “‘Know ye any lodging?’ ‘I know none,’ said the dwarf; ‘but here beside is an hermitage, and there ye must take such lodging as ye find.’ And within a while they came to the hermitage and took lodging, and there was grass and oats and bread for their horses. Soon it was spread, and full hard was their supper; but there they rested them all the night till on the morrow, and heard a mass devoutly, and took their leave of the hermit, and Sir Tor prayed the hermit to pray for him, and he said he would, and betook him to God; and so he mounted on horseback, and rode towards Camelot.”

But sometimes not even a friendly hermitage came in sight at the hour of twilight, when the forest glades darkened, and the horse track across the moor could no longer be seen, and the knight had to betake himself to a soldier’s bivouac. It is an incident often met with in the Romances. Here is a more poetical description than usual:—“And anon these knights made them ready, and rode over holts and hills, through forests and woods, till they came to a fair meadow full of fair flowers and grass, and there they rested them and their horses all that night.” Again, “Sir Launcelot rode into a forest, and there he met with a gentlewoman riding upon a white palfrey, and she asked him, ‘Sir Knight, whither ride ye?’ ‘Certainly, damsel,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘I wot not whither I ride, but as fortune leadeth me.’... Then Sir Launcelot asked her where he might be harboured that night. ‘Ye shall none find this day nor night, but to-morrow ye shall find good harbour.’ And then he commended her unto God. Then he rode till he came to a cross, and took that for his host as for that night. And he put his horse to pasture, and took off his helm and shield, and made his prayers to the cross, that he might never again fall into deadly sin, and so he laid him down to sleep, and anon as he slept it befel him that he had a vision,” with which we will not trouble the reader; but we commend the incident to any young artist in want of a subject for a picture: the wayside cross where the four roads meet in the forest, the gnarled tree-trunks with their foliage touched with autumn tints, and the green bracken withering into brown and yellow and red, under the level rays of the sun which fling alternate bars of light and shade across the scene; and the noble war-horse peacefully grazing on the short sweet forest grass, and the peerless knight in glorious gilded arms, with his helmet at his feet, and his great spear leaned against a tree-trunk, kneeling before the cross, with his grave noble face, and his golden hair gleaming in the sun-light, “making his prayers that he might never again fall into deadly sin.”

In the old monumental brasses in which pictures of the knightly costume are preserved to us with such wonderful accuracy and freshness, it is very common to find the knight represented as lying with his tilting helm under his head by way of pillow. One would take it for a mere artistic arrangement for raising the head of the recumbent figure, and for introducing this important portion of his costume, but that the Romances tell us that knights did actually make use of their helm for a pillow; a hard pillow, no doubt—but we have all heard of the veteran who kicked from under his son’s head the snowball which he had rolled together for a pillow at his bivouac in the winter snow, indignant at his degenerate effeminacy. Thus we read of Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides, “They mounted upon their horses, and rode together into the forest, and there they found a fair well with clear water burbelling. ‘Fair Sir,’ said Sir Tristram, ‘to drink of that water have I a lust.’ And then they alighted from their horses, and then were they ware by them where stood a great horse tied to a tree, and ever he neighed, and then were they ware of a fair knight armed under a tree, lacking no piece of harness, save his helm lay under his head. Said Sir Tristram, ‘Yonder lieth a fair knight, what is best to do?’ ‘Awake him,’ said Sir Palomides. So Sir Tristram waked him with the end of his spear.” They had better have let him be, for the knight, thus roused, got him to horse and overthrew them both. Again, we read how “Sir Launcelot bad his brother, Sir Lionel, to make him ready, for we two, said he, will seek adventures. So they mounted upon their horses, armed at all points, and rode into a deep forest, and after they came into a great plain, and then the weather was hot about noon, and Sir Launcelot had great lust to sleep. Then Sir Lionel espied a great apple-tree that stood by a hedge, and said, ‘Brother, yonder is a fair shadow; there may we rest us, and our horses.’ ‘It is well said, fair brother,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘for all the seven year I was not so sleepy as I am now.’ And so they alighted there, and tied their horses unto sundry trees, and so Sir Launcelot laid him down under an apple-tree, and laid his helm under his head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept.”

Knights, Damsel, and Squire.

The knight did not, however, always trust to chance for shelter, and risk a night in the open air. Sometimes we find he took the field in this mimic warfare with a baggage train, and had his tent pitched for the night wherever night overtook him, or camped for a few days wherever a pleasant glade, or a fine prospect, or an agreeable neighbour, tempted him to prolong his stay. And he would picket his horse hard by, and thrust his spear into the ground beside the tent door, and hang his shield upon it. Thus we read:—“Now turn we unto Sir Launcelot, that had long been riding in a great forest, and at last came into a low country, full of fair rivers and meadows, and afore him he saw a long bridge, and three pavilions stood thereon of silk and sendal of divers hue, and without the pavilions hung three white shields on truncheons of spears, and great long spears stood upright by the pavilions, and at every pavilion’s door stood three fresh squires, and so Sir Launcelot passed by them, and spake not a word.” We may say here that it was not unusual for people in fine weather to pitch a tent in the courtyard or garden of the castle, and live there instead of indoors, or to go a-field and pitch a little camp in some pleasant place, and spend the time in justing and feasting, and mirth and minstrelsy. We read in one of the Romances how “the king and queen—King Arthur and Queen Guenever, to wit—made their pavilions and their tents to be pitched in the forest, beside a river, and there was daily hunting, for there were ever twenty knights ready for to just with all them that came in at that time.” And here, in the woodcut below, is a picture of the scene.

Usually, perhaps, there was not much danger in these adventures of a knight-errant. There was a fair prospect of bruises, and a risk of broken bones if he got an awkward fall, but not more risk perhaps than in the modern hunting-field. Even if the combat went further than the usual three courses with bated spears, if they did draw swords and continue the combat on foot, there was usually no more real danger than in a duel of German students. But sometimes cause of anger would accidentally rise between two errant knights, or the combat begun in courtesy would fire their hot blood, and they would resolve “worshipfully to win worship, or die knightly on the field,” and a serious encounter would take place. There were even some knights of evil disposition enough to take delight in making every combat a serious one; and some of the adventures in which we take most interest relate how these bloodthirsty bullies, attacking in ignorance some Knight of the Round Table, got a well-deserved bloodletting for their pains.