CHAPTER V.
INSTITUTION OF CHIVALRY AND DUELS.
Mistaken views of religion no longer presided over bloodshed, and priests found that they gradually lost the power of controlling the unruly by their simple commands; it therefore became necessary that their influence over those who could support their power by arms should be of a more permanent and efficacious nature. Youth, upon whose future courage and energies they could depend, were now enrolled in an instituted body; and the assumption of arms, so soon as they were able to wield them, became a solemn religious rite: until they could don their armour, they were clad in white, like clerical neophytes; and, as Scott truly observes, “the investiture of chivalry was brought to resemble, as near as possible, the administration of the sacraments of the church.”
Still this combination of religious and military zeal was not considered sufficient to lead a man to risk his life blindly, and the art and the all-powerful aid of woman were invoked.
Gallantry now presided over deeds of arms; which, to use the words of Montesquieu, was not love, but its light, delicate, and perpetual errors.
An ingenious writer, C. Moore, has described the origin of chivalric laws and customs in the following passage:—“War, and the single combat, were still the ruling passions of the soul; and whatever improvement had militated against these favourite and ferocious ideas would have been treated with the utmost contempt and indignation. Some, however, whose minds were more enlightened, endeavoured to turn this torrent of courage and military violence upon itself, and to the correction of its own abuses. They formed themselves into martial societies for the relief of injured innocence and distressed virtue; for the redress of all oppressions and grievances; for the protection of the weak and defenceless, particularly of the fair sex; for the correction of abuses, and the general promotion of the public utility and safety. But, in compliance with the strong prejudices of the times, all was still to be determined by the sword, and by feats of personal valour. Such was the introduction of chivalry and knight-errantry.”
For the honour of mankind, desirable indeed would it have been if chivalry had been carried on upon such philanthropic grounds, however barbarous might have been the means resorted to in the furtherance of its ends: it is more probable that it was the result of growing civilization, with its concomitant pride, pomp, and circumstance. When love, being associated with religion, shed a halo over the knight’s proud helm, the spirit of chivalry withdrew its advocates from the trammels of judicial courts; and, although the hostile meetings of contending knights, might not have been considered an ordeal to obtain the judgment of God, the vanity arising from the renown of personal prowess and superiority in war and in love rendered its champions regardless of those fine and delicate feelings to which their institution has been attributed. It is true that, the courtesy and rising polish of society being added to religious zeal and blind superstition, this combination tended to soften down the rude relics of former ferocity, and to combine courage with humanity, introducing as far as was practicable the courtesies of peace into scenes of strife; and such we may well imagine may have been the results of such an institution when woman became associated with all its bearings. Education became more gentle, and, ere the accolade of knighthood was conferred, the candidate to the honour had passed through the gradation of page and squire; first the follower of woman, a blind adorer and slave, then the attendant on his leader in the chase or the battle-field.
As civilization progressed, the rude customs of barbarous nations must have gradually sunk into disrepute; and war, which had once been a necessity in defence of person and property, now became only an honourable profession.
While we admit, with Scott, that the tenets of chivalry were exalted and enthusiastic, we cannot but consider that many acts of exaltation and enthusiasm, among the most illustrious, were little short of mental aberration, qualifying the heroic champion for the lunatic asylum, rather than the courts of sovereigns; and I think that we may consider many of our modern honourable institutions, which are traced to chivalry, more as the effect of gradual intellectual improvement than of the frolics of knight-errantry, however honourable they may have appeared in theory. No one can pretend to deny that Don Quixote’s ideas of honour were as correct as they were punctilious.
It is unfortunate that romance has so distorted human actions as to shed lustre upon deeds which ought to have been veiled in everlasting obscurity for the honour of mankind. It is owing to these fatal illusions, that, to the present hour, the chimerical word Honour leads the enthusiast or the slave of society’s prejudiced views to the commission of criminal acts, and adapts its supposed laws and dictates to the Procrustean standard of the “world’s” opinion.