Fig. 21.—Sword of 14th century, with Guard for Forefinger. Windsor Castle.
The interesting sword, [Fig. 21], from Her Majesty’s collection at Windsor, dates from about the end of the fourteenth or early in the fifteenth century. Its peculiarity is the semicircular guard for the forefinger growing out of one of the quillons, the first step, as Baron de Cosson remarks, “towards the evolution of the beautiful and complicated rapier of the sixteenth century.” “The pommel and guard are of iron fully gilt, the grip of wood.” The blade is gilt and engraved for a few inches where it shows dark in the illustration, and is inscribed with the name of the Cid Marchio Rodericus Bivar and a shield of arms, these having been added, in the Baron’s opinion, in the sixteenth or seventeenth century. Only four swords with the little semicircular guard or “half pas d’ane” were known when he described them, being introduced owing to the Italian custom of bending the forefinger round the quillon when slashing.
[IV]
ENRICHED ARMOUR
Armour was enriched in almost all ages, sometimes ostentatiously so, and at other times left affectedly plain. It was, however, only when wearing it in battle ceased to be a paramount necessity, that armour definitely became little more than a mere vehicle for lavish display. Lightly armed and easily manœuvred troops and artillery were steadily becoming increasingly important factors in deciding the fortunes of battle, and at last men could with difficulty be brought to undergo the fatigue of carrying weighty armour which they regarded as no efficient protection. Sir James Smith’s complaint in 1530 puts the matter clearly: “But that which is more strange, these our new fantasied men of warre doo despise and scorne our auncient arming of ourselves, both on horseback and on foot, saying that wee armed ourselves in times past with too much armour, or peeces of yron (as they terme it). And therefore their footmen piqueurs they do allow for very well armed when they weare their burgonets, their collars, their cuirasses, and their backs, without either pouldrons, vambraces, gauntlets, or tasses.” This arming is even lighter than Mr. J. F. Sullivan’s picturesque Marauder of Picardie ([Plate II.]). The Battle of the Spurs perhaps did much to break the prestige of men-at-arms, who were routed by one-tenth their number of English horse. The French chivalry, armed cap-à-pie, came on in three ranks thirty-six deep, and were targets as usual for the English archers, who lined a hedge, “and shotte apace and galled the French horse.” The English horse, and a few mounted archers who had gone forward with spears, “set on freshly crying St. George,” whereupon the French fled, throwing away “speres, swordes, and mases,” and cutting the bards of their horses. The Estradiots coming down in front of the French host caught sight of the English horse, and mistaking the king’s battaille of foot for horse also, turned and fled, chased by the Burgundians and Walloons; the main body of English, on foot with the king, having no opportunity of engaging.
