The Mohammedan religion, which debases woman into a machine, and regards love as a merely sensual passion, was introduced into the East about the same time that chivalry arose in the West, to exalt women into deities, and chasten passion with the purity of sentiment.
The military spirit induced by chivalry continued in full force through the whole of its existence, and survived its origin. Philippa, wife of Edward the Third, was the principal cause of the victory gained over the Scots at Neville Cross. In the absence of her husband, she rode among the troops, and exhorted them in the name of God to be of good heart and courage, promising to reward them better than if her lord the king were himself in the field. At the surrender of Calais, she displayed a better quality than courage. Her incensed husband demanded that six of the principal inhabitants should be put to death; and six patriotic citizens voluntarily offered their lives to appease the conqueror. When these heroic men knelt at his feet, to deliver the keys of the city, the queen likewise knelt, and begged their lives as a boon to her. Her tears prevailed; and the grateful inhabitants of Calais exclaimed, “Edward conquers cities, but Philippa conquers hearts!”
Jane, countess of Mountfort, who lived at the same period, and was a lineal descendant of the German women described by Tacitus, possessed a large share of manly courage. While her husband was detained in prison, she defended his right to the duchy of Bretagne against Charles of Blois. She visited all the principal towns and fortresses, and exhorted the troops to courage, in the name of herself and her infant son. When besieged in the strong town of Hennebon, she herself rode through the streets clad in mail, and mounted on a goodly steed; and her cheering smiles stimulated valor, even when her voice was drowned in the din of battle. Perceiving that the enemy’s camp was deserted, she seized a spear, and, accompanied by three hundred of her best knights, rode into the midst of it, and set the tents on fire. Her return being cut off by the French troops, she took the road to Brest, and for five days the good soldiers of Hennebon were ignorant of her fate; but on the sixth, she returned, with her golden banners glittering in the sun, and surrounded by five hundred lances, which her beauty and bravery had drawn around her. Afterward, she went to England, to solicit succor from Edward the Third. Returning with a considerable fleet, she was met by an enemy; and it is recorded that “the countess on that day was worth the bravest knight; she had the heart of a lion, and, with a sharp glaive in her hand, she fought fiercely.”
In 1338, the countess of March, called Black Agnes, from the color of her eyes and hair, resisted with extraordinary bravery and success the earl of Salisbury, who besieged her in the castle of Dunbar, during the absence of her husband.
In Italy, the prince of Romagna intrusted the defence of Cesena to his wife, Marzia, while he himself maintained a more important post. The noble matron donned the casque and cuirass, which she never laid aside, night or day; and when, in a moment of extreme peril, her father entreated her to surrender, she replied, “My husband has given me a duty to perform, and I must obey his command.” Though unable to obtain the victory, her bravery and skill secured a very favorable treaty.
When Regner Lodbrog waged war against Fro, king of Sweden, a young Norwegian girl, named Lagertha, greatly assisted him in his victory. Regner became in love with her, and made her his wife; but he soon after deserted her for another. Lagertha lived in the utmost retirement, until she heard that her husband was deserted by his friends, and placed in danger by rebellious subjects; then the generous wife forgot her own injuries, hastened to his relief, and was again victorious.
Avilda, daughter of the king of Gothland, scoured the seas with a powerful fleet; and king Sigar, who found she was not to be won in the usual manner, gained her heart by fitting out a fleet, and engaging in a furious battle with her for two days without intermission.
Marguérite of France, wife of St. Louis, while besieged by the Turks in Damietta, during the captivity of the king her husband, gave birth to a son, whom she named Tristan, in commemoration of her misfortunes. In this helpless situation, hearing that the crusaders were about to capitulate with the enemy she summoned the knights to her apartment, and the words she uttered stirred their spirits like the tones of a trumpet. Her address has been immortalized in such beautiful verse, by Mrs. Hemans, that I cannot forbear quoting some of the stanzas:
“The honor of the lily
Is in your hands to keep,