The surcoats of the four earls[443] were of Cindon silk, the remaining thirty-four of Carda: "Pro iiij. coo̱ptor͂ ̱p iiijor Comit͂ ij. Cind' & dī. Item ̱p xxxiiij. coo̱ptor͂. cxix. uln̄. card." The ailettes were made of leather and carda, being fastened by laces of silk: "D. Milon̄ le Cuireur͂. xxxviij. par͂ alett͂ cor͂ p'̄c par͂ viiij. d.... Item pro xxxviij. par͂ alett͂ xix. uln̄. card.... viij. Duoden̄ laqueoȝ serīc ̱p alett͂ p'̄c duoden̄ viij. d." Each helm and each horse had a crest, which was made of calf-skin, and fastened by the chastones and clavones already noticed at page [347]. Stephen the Joiner supplied thirty-eight shields of wood at fivepence each: "De Stephō Junctor͂ xxxviij. scut͂ fustin̄ p'̄c scuti. v. d." Being elsewhere called blazonæ, we may conclude they were heraldically ensigned. The helms were of leather, supplied by Robert Erunnler in their crude state at sixteenpence per helm; but afterwards embellished by Ralph de la Haye, who gilt twelve of them with pure gold for the chief knights at a shilling apiece, and silvered the remainder at eightpence each: "De Rob'o Erunnler xxxviij. galee de cor͂ p'̄c galee xvj. d. Item Rađo de la Haye ̱p Batur͂ xij. galeaȝ de auro pur͂ ̱p dingmor͂ arm̄ prēc galee xij. d. Eidem pro Batur͂ xxvi. gal' de argento, p'̄c gal' viij. d." The swords were made of whalebone and parchment, their blades silvered, the hilt and pommel gilt: "De Petro le Furbeur͂ (the furbisher) xxxviii. glad' fact͂ de Balen̄ & Parcomen̄, p'̄c pēc vij. d. Itm̄ ̱p Batur͂ d̄coȝ glad' de argent' xxv.s. Itm̄ ̱p Batur͂ pomell' & hilt͂ eoȝd' de auro pur͂ iij. s. vi. d."
The sum-total paid for these thirty-eight equipments, including their carriage from London to Windsor, was £80 11s. 8d. Other purchases were made at Paris, of which a portion appears to have been for the tournament, as the horse furniture, already noticed at page [340]. Other articles are of a miscellaneous character, as hawking-gloves, furs for mantles, carpets, and "a hundred fromages de Brie for the King and Queen" (c. casei de Bria pro Rege et Regina, precium xxxv. s.). The whole of the document, however, deserves a careful investigation, though we have extracted the chief particulars which illustrate the subject of our inquiry. It is printed in full in the seventeenth volume of the Archæologia.
There was a variety of the tournament in vogue during this century, called the Round Table; of which, though some curious details have been preserved, the particular characteristic has not been ascertained. Matthew Paris[444] has noted with especial distinctness that the Tabula rotunda was not a mere new name given to an old sport, but that it was a pastime of a different kind. "In this year, 1252, he says, the knights of England, in order to prove their skill and bravery in military practices, unanimously determined to try their powers, not in the sport commonly and vulgarly called a Tournament, but in that military game which is named The Round Table: (non ut in hastiludio illo quod communiter et vulgariter Torneamentum dicitur, sed potiùs in illo ludo militari qui Mensa Rotunda dicitur:) therefore, at the Octave of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, they assembled in great numbers at the Abbey of Wallenden, flocking together from the north and from the south, and some also from the continent. And, according to the rules of that warlike sport, on that day and the day following, some English knights disported themselves with great skill and valour, to the pleasure and admiration of all the foreigners there present. On the fourth day following, two knights of great valour and renown, Arnold de Montigny and Roger de Lemburn, came forth completely armed after the manner of knights, and mounted on choice and handsome horses. And, as they rushed onward to encounter with their lances, Roger aimed his weapon, the point of which was not blunted, as it ought to have been, so that it entered under the helm of Arnold, and pierced his throat: for he was unarmed in that part of his body, being without a collar (carens collario)." Montigny expired on the spot, and the festivities were turned to mourning; so that "those who had come thither in joy and gladness, separated on a sudden amid grief and lamentation; De Lemburn at once making a vow to assume the Cross and undertake a pilgrimage for the release of the soul of Arnold."
From this relation we learn that the knights, fully armed, contended with lances on horseback, and that it was an especial rule of the combat that the lance-heads should be blunt or "rebated."
In 1280, the eighth of Edward I., earl Roger de Mortimer held a Round Table at his Castle of Kenilworth. "It was," says Dugdale, "a great and famous concourse of noble persons called the Round Table, consisting of an hundred Knights and as many Ladies, whereunto divers repaired from foreign parts for the exercise of Arms, viz., Tilting and martial Tournaments: the reason of the Round Table being to avoyd contention touching precedency; a Custome of great antiquity, and used by the antient Gauls, as Mr. Cambden in Hantsh. from Athenæus (an approved Author) observes." The original authorities for this description of the Kenilworth Round-Table festival are Trivet and Walsingham, and the passages may be seen either in their histories, ad an. 1280, or in Ducange, sub voce Tabula Rotunda. Dugdale seems to have had the notion that, to avoid disputes about precedency, all the jousters dined together at the Round Table; but it must have been a large table to have accommodated "an hundred Knights,"—to say nothing of the hundred Ladies. It seems more probable, comparing this institution with others of an analogous character, that a certain number of knights, representing (and perhaps assuming the names of) King Arthur and his far-famed band of warriors, held the field "against all comers." This view receives some support from the well-known relic at Winchester, "the rownde table of Kyng Arthur and hys Knyghtes," which is painted in compartments, each bearing the name of one of the fraternity. The table in question is not, indeed, more ancient than about the beginning of the sixteenth century; but, as the Hall at Winchester in which it is preserved is of the thirteenth century (the very period in which the sport of the Tabula Rotunda came into vogue), it seems likely that this table represents some more ancient one which time has destroyed. The existing "King Arthur's Round Table" is figured in the Winchester volume of the Archæological Institute; and in the notice of it in that volume is cited a curious passage from Leroux de Lincy (himself quoting Diego de Vera, who was present at the marriage of Philip and Mary), by which it appears that tradition had assigned to a particular compartment the name of "the place of Judas or the perilous seat:" "Lors du mariage de Philippe II. avec la reine Marie, on montroit encore à Hunscrit[445] la table ronde fabriquée par Merlin: elle se composoit de 25 compartimens en blanc et en vert: dans chaque division étoient écrits le nom du cavalier et celui du roi. L'un de ces compartimens, appelé Place de Judas ou Siége périlleux, restoit toujours vide." Judas appears to have been interpolated from one of the Mystery Plays of the Middle-Ages, and it must be confessed that a table "made by Merlin" and surrounded by King Arthur and his knights, with Judas for a boon-companion, has in it a certain boldness of concatenation which might well strike with awe the solemn mind of Don Diego de Vera, on the occasion of his visit to Hunscrit. A passage in the Faits de Bouciquaut seems to imply that holding a Round Table meant a hastilude in which the challengers kept open house: "Ainsi fit là son appareil moult grandement et très honnorablement Messire Bouciquaut, et fit faire provisions de très bons vins, et de tous vivres largement et' à plain, et de tout ce qu'il convient, si plantureusement comme pour tenir table ronde à tous venans tout le dict temps durant, et tout aux propres despens de Bouciquaut[446]."
If the nobles of the land retained their fondness for the military pastimes of their order, the commonalty were not less attached to the cognate sports of their class. Indeed, their enthusiasm sometimes led them to an excess of ambition which resulted in an armed contest between the two bodies of knight and craftsman: they dared to practise the exercise of the quintain for the prize of a peacock! the peacock, that noble bird, every feather in whose tail was an eye of disdain contumeliously glowering upon the whole generation of plebeians.
The inexhaustible Matthew Paris again furnishes us with an illustration:—"In the first fortnight of Lent (1253), the young men of London tested their own powers and the speed of their horses in the sport which is commonly called the Quintain, having fixed on a Peacock as the prize of the contest. Some attendants and pages of the king's household (he being then at Westminster) were indignant at this, and insulted the citizens, calling them rustics, scurvy and soapy wretches, and at once entered the field to oppose them. The Londoners eagerly accepted their challenge, and, after beating their backs with the broken spear-shafts till they were black and blue, they hurled all the royal attendants from their horses or put them to flight. The fugitives then went to the king and with clasped hands and gushing tears besought him not to let so great an offence go unpunished; and he, resorting to his usual kind of vengeance, extorted from the citizens a large sum of money."
Figures of the quintain and the tilters may be seen in Strutt's Sports: the manuscripts he has used are of a somewhat later date, (that is, fourteenth century,) but the forms of the quintains may be fairly taken as similar to those of the preceding age.
In the thirteenth century we first obtain a pictorial representation of the Legal Duel, or wager of battle: rude, it is true, but curiously confirming the written testimony that has come down to us of the arms and apparel of the Champions.