The History of Chivalry

by G. P. R. James

All those written laws and regulations affecting knighthood,[1] which were composed subsequent to its having taken an acknowledged form, prescribed, in the strictest manner, various points of religious ceremonial, which the aspirant to Chivalry was required to perform before he could be admitted into that high order.

What preceded the regular recognition of Chivalry as an institution is entirely traditional; yet in all the old romances, fabliaux, sirventes, ballads, &c. not one instance is to be found in which a squire becomes a knight, without some reference to his religious faith. If he be dubbed in the battle-field, he swears to defend the right, and maintain all the statutes of the noble order of Chivalry, upon the cross of his sword; he calls heaven to witness his vow, and the saints to help him in its execution. Even in one of the most absurd fables[2] of the chivalrous ages, wherein we find Saladin himself receiving the order of Chivalry from the hands of the Count de Tabarie, that nobleman causes the infidel sultan to be shaved, and to bathe as a symbol of baptism, and then to rest himself upon a perfumed bed, as a type of the repose and joy of Paradise. These tales are all fictitious, it is true; and few of them date earlier than the end of the twelfth century: but at the same time, as they universally ascribe religious ceremonies to the order of knighthood, we have every reason to suppose that such ceremonies formed a fundamental part of the institution.

Before proceeding to inquire into the origin of Chivalry, I must be permitted to make one more observation in regard to my definition; namely, that there was a great and individual character in that order, which no definition can fully convey. I mean the Spirit of Chivalry; for, indeed, it was more a spirit than an institution; and the outward forms with which it soon became invested, were only, in truth, the signs by which it was conventionally agreed that those persons who had proved in their initiate they possessed the spirit, should be distinguished from the other classes of society. The ceremonial was merely the public declaration, that he on whom the order was conferred was worthy to exercise the powers with which it invested him; but still, the spirit was the Chivalry.

In seeking the source of this order through the dark mazes of the history of modern Europe, it appears to me that many writers have mistaken the track; and, by looking for the mere external signs, have been led into ages infinitely prior to the spirit of Chivalry.

Some have supposed that the institution descended to more modern times, from the equestrian order of the ancient Romans; but the absence of all but mere nominal resemblance between the two, has long placed this theory in the dusty catalogue of historical dreams.

Others again have imagined that the Franks, and the rest of the German nations, who, on the fall of the Roman empire, subdued and divided Gaul, brought with them the seeds of Chivalry, which spontaneously grew up into that extraordinary plant which has flourished but once in the annals of the world. This opinion they support by citing the customs of the German tribes[3] who, not only at particular periods invested their youth with the shield and the javelin, but also (especially towards the period of the conquest of Gaul) chose from the bravest of the tribe a number of warriors, to be the companions and guards of the chief. These were termed Leudes, and we find them often mentioned under the whole of the first race of French kings. They served on horseback, while the greater part of each German nation fought on foot only; and they were bound to the chief by an oath of fidelity.[4] The reception of an aspirant into the body of Leudes was also marked with various ceremonies; but in this, if we examine correctly, we find neither the spirit nor the forms of Chivalry. The oath of the Frank was one of service to his prince; that of the knight, to his God and to society: the one promised to defend his leader; the other to protect the oppressed, and to uphold the right. The Leudes were in fact the nobility of the German tribes, though that nobility was not hereditary; but they were in no respect similar to the knights of an after-age, except in the circumstance of fighting on horseback.

A third opinion supposes the origin of Chivalry to be found among the ancient warlike tribes of Northmen, or Normans, who, towards the ninth century, invaded in large bodies the southern parts of Europe, and established themselves principally in France; and certainly, both in their traditions, and even in their actions, as recorded by Abbon, an eyewitness to their deeds in the siege of Paris, there is to be found an energetic and romantic spirit, not unlike that which animated Chivalry at the rudest period of its existence. Still, there is much wanting. The great object of Chivalry, the defence of the weak, was absent, as well as every form and ceremony. The object of the Northman’s courage was plunder; and all that he had in common with the knight was valour, contempt of death, and a touch of savage generosity, that threw but a feint light over his dark and stormy barbarities.

Many persons again have attributed the foundation of all the chivalrous institutions of Europe to the bright and magnificent reign of Charlemagne; and as this opinion has met with much support, among even the learned, it is worth while more particularly to inquire upon what basis it is raised. Of the reign of Charlemagne we have not so many authentic accounts as we have romances, founded upon the fame of that illustrious monarch. Towards the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, when Chivalry was in its imaginative youth, a thousand tales of wild adventure were produced, in which Charlemagne and his warriors were represented with all the qualities and attributes of those knights, whose virtues and courage had by that time wrought deeply on the heart and fancy of the people. We should be as much justified, however, in believing that Virgil was a celebrated necromancer, or that Hercules was a Preux Chevalier—characters which have been assigned to them by the very same class of fables—as in giving any credit to the distorted representations that those romances afford of the days of Charlemagne.

In regard to the tales of King Arthur, I am perfectly inclined to use the energetic words of Menestrier, who, in speaking of the famous knights of the round table, says, without hesitation, “All that they tell of King Arthur and that fictitious Chivalry of which they represent him as the author, is nothing but a lie;”[5] for, though beyond all doubt the romances of Chivalry afford a great insight into the manners of the times wherein they were written, they are, nevertheless, quite worthless as authority concerning the ages which they pretend to display, and which had preceded their composition by nearly three centuries.

After rejecting the evidences of such tales, we find nothing in the authentic records of Charlemagne which gives the slightest reason to suppose that Chivalry was known, even in its most infant state, during his reign. Though his great system of warfare had that in common with Chivalry which all warfare must have—feats of daring courage, heroic valour, bursts of feeling and magnanimity, and as much of the sublime as mighty ambition, guided by mighty genius, and elevated by a noble object can achieve—yet the government of Charlemagne was, in fact, any thing but a chivalrous government. Too powerful a hand held the reins of state for Chivalry either to have been necessary or permitted; and in reading the annals of Eginhard, his life of Charlemagne, or the account, given by the monk of St. Gall, we find a completely different character from that which is visible in every page of the history of the knightly ages. We find, indeed, that Charlemagne, according to the immemorial custom of his German[6] ancestors, solemnly invested his son Lewis with the arms of a man. A thousand years before, in the forests of the North, his predecessors had done the same: and Charlemagne, one of whose great objects ever was, to preserve both the habits and the language of the original country[7] free from amalgamation with those of the conquered nations, not only set the example of publicly receiving his son into the ranks of manhood and warfare, but strictly enjoined that the same should be done by his various governors in the provinces. But this custom of the Franks, as I have before attempted to show, had no earthly relation to knighthood. Were nothing else a proof that Chivalry was perfectly unknown in the days of Charlemagne, it would be sufficient that the famous capitularies of that monarch, which regulate every thing that can fall under the eye of the law, even to the details of private life, make no mention whatever of an institution which afterward exercised so great an influence on the fate of Europe. Nor can we trace in the annals of the surrounding countries, a mark of Chivalry having been known at that period to any other nation more than to the Franks. Alfred, it is true, invested Athelstan with a purple garment and a sword; but the Saxons were from Germany as well as the Franks, and no reason exists for supposing that this ceremony was in any degree connected with the institutions of Chivalry. There have been persons, indeed, who supposed that Pharaoh conferred knighthood upon Joseph, when he bestowed upon him the ring and the golden chain, and probably the Egyptian king had fully as much knowledge of the institution of Chivalry as either Charlemagne or Alfred.