The History of Chivalry

by G. P. R. James

This was the last important event in the history of the Order of St. John; and since that day, it has gradually descended to later years, blending itself with modern institutions till its distinctive character has been lost, and the knights of Malta are reckoned among the past.

It does not seem necessary to trace the other military fraternities which originated in the crusades to their close; but something more must be said concerning the progress of Chivalry in Europe, and the effect that it had upon society in general. The Holy Wars were, indeed, the greatest efforts of knighthood; but during the intervals between each expedition beyond the seas, and that which followed, and often during the time of preparation, the knight found plenty of occupation for his sword in his own country. The strife with the Moors in Spain bore entirely the aspect of the crusades, but the sanguinary conflicts between France and England offered continual occasions both for the display of knightly valour and of knightly generosity. The bitterest national enmity existed between the two countries—they were ever engaged in struggling against each other; and yet we find, through the whole, that mutual courtesy when the battle was over, and in the times of truce that frank co-operation, or that rivalry in noble efforts, which belonged so peculiarly to Chivalry. Occasionally, it is true, a cruel and bloodthirsty warrior would stain his successes with ungenerous rigour—for where is the institution which has ever been powerful enough to root out the evil spot from the heart of man? But the great tone of all the wars of Chivalry was valour in the field and courtesy in the hall. Deeds were often done in the heat of blood which general barbarism of manners alone would excuse; and most of the men whom we are inclined to love and to admire have left some blot on that page of history which records their lives. But to judge of the spirit of the Order, we must not look to those instances where the habits of the age mixed up a vast portion of evil with the general character of the knight, but we must turn our eyes upon those splendid examples where chivalrous feeling reached its height, did away all the savage cruelty of the time, and raised human actions almost to sublimity.

Remarking these instances, and seeing what the spirit of Chivalry could produce in its perfection, we may judge what the society of that day would have been without it: we may trace truly the effect it had in civilizing the world, and we may comprehend the noble legacy it left to after-years. Had Chivalry not existed, all the vices which we behold in that period of the world’s history would have been immensely increased; for there would have been no counteracting incitement. The immorality of those times would have been a thousand degrees more gross, for passion would have wanted the only principle of refinement; the ferocity of the brave would have shown itself in darker scenes of bloodshed, for no courtesy would have tempered it with gentleness. Even religion would have longer remained obscured, for the measures taken to darken it, by those whose interest it was to make it a means of rule, would have been but faintly opposed, had not Chivalry, by softening the manners of the age, and promoting general communication between man and man, gradually done away darkness and admitted light.

Because knights were superstitious, it has been supposed that superstition was apart of knighthood; but this was not at all the case. The gross errors grafted by the Roman church on the pure doctrine of salvation often taught the knight cruelty, and disgraced Chivalry, by making it the means of persecution; but the tendency of the Order itself was to purify and refine, and the civilization thereby given to the world in general ultimately produced its effect in doing away superstition. The libertinism of society in the middle ages has also been wrongly attributed to knighthood, and thus the most beneficial institutions are too often confounded with the vices that spring up around them. That the fundamental doctrine of Chivalry, if I may so express myself, was decidedly opposed to every infraction of morality, is susceptible of proof. In all authors who have collected the precepts of Chivalry, we find sobriety and continence enjoined as among the first duties of a knight: and female chastity was so particularly esteemed, that we are told by the Chevalier de la Tour, if a lady of doubtful virtue presented herself in company with the good, whatever were her rank, the knights would cause her to give place to those of unsullied fame. From every thing that I can read or hear, I am inclined to believe that the virtues of the knights of old arose in the Order of Chivalry alone, and that their faults belonged to the age in which they lived.[892]

In common with all human institutions, Chivalry presents a new aspect in every page of the book of history. Sometimes it is severe and stern; sometimes light and gay; but the qualities of valour, courtesy, and enthusiasm shine out at every period of its existence.

At the battle of Crecy, Edward the Black Prince, then fourteen years of age, fought for his knightly spurs; and his father, King Edward III., from a mound near the mill, beheld his gallant son surrounded on every side by enemies. The companions of the young hero sent to the king for succour, alleging the dangerous situation of the Prince of Wales; on which Edward demanded, “Is he dead, or overthrown, or so wounded that he cannot continue to fight?” And on being informed that his son still lived, he added, “Return to him, and to those who sent you, and tell them, whatever happens, to seek no aid from me so long as my son be in life. Further say, that I command them to let the boy well win his spurs; for, please God, the day shall be his, and the honour shall rest with him.”[893]

In this instance, Edward required no more from his child than he was willing in his own person to endure. No one ever evinced more chivalrous courage than that monarch himself; and in the skirmish under the walls of Calais, he fought hand to hand with the famous De Ribaumont, who brought him twice upon his knee, but was at length vanquished by the king. After the battle, Edward entertained his prisoners in the town; and when supper was concluded the victorious monarch approached his adversary, took the chaplet of rich pearls from his own brow, placed it on the head of De Ribaumont, and said, “Sir Eustace, I give this wreath to you, as the best of this day’s combatants, and I beg you to wear it a year for my love. I know that you are gay and gallant, and willingly find yourselves where ladies are. Tell them, then, wherever you may be, that I gave you this token; and, moreover, I free you from your prison. Go to-morrow, if it please you.”[894]

Such was the character of knighthood; and whether we read anecdotes like the above, or trace in the rolls of history the feats of an Edward the Black Prince, of a Duguesclin, of a Talbot, a Henry, or a Bayard, we find the same spirit; varied, indeed, according to the mind of the individual, but raising all his virtues to the highest pitch of perfection, and restraining all his faults as much as human errors can be restrained.

It would be endless to detail all those marvels which Chivalry at various times effected; nor have I space to dwell upon Crecy, or Poitiers, or Agincourt. With respect to those great battles, where England was so eminently triumphant, it is sufficient to point out the extraordinary fact, that though the glory rested with the British, no disgrace attached to their enemies. Each knight in the French armies did every thing that personal valour could do to win the field; and the honour to England consists not so much in having conquered, as in having conquered such opponents. For long, however, it appears that the French commanders were inferior to the English in skill, and that their forces were destitute of that unity which alone secures success. At length, the son of a nobleman of Brittany, who had been much neglected in his early years, began to make head against the English. From his infancy Bertrand Duguesclin had shown the most persevering passion for arms, which had been always repressed; till at a tournament—from the neighbourhood of which he had been purposely sent away—he appeared in disguise, defeated all that encountered him, and was only discovered by refusing to meet his own father. From that hour Duguesclin rose in the estimation of the world; and after opposing, with considerable success, Edward the Black Prince himself, on the death of that noble commander he delivered the greater part of France from the domination of the English.

One of the favourite schemes of Duguesclin was to restore to Chivalry its ancient simplicity, and he strove by every means to enforce the more severe and salutary laws by which it had been originally governed. Of course, an institution which had vast privileges and obligations was not without rewards and punishments; and many of these were revived by Duguesclin after he had become Constable of France.