The History of Chivalry Volume II Part 8

The remainder of his adventures on the Continent is not worthy of record.

He returned to England; and, in 1616, he was sent to France as the English amba.s.sador. Previously to his setting off, he engaged to fight a duel, though the day fixed for the circ.u.mstance was Sunday; but when he arrived at Paris on a Sat.u.r.day night, he refused to accept an invitation of the Spanish amba.s.sador for an interview the next morning, because Sunday was a day, which, as he alleged, he wholly gave to devotion. The spirit of duelling was far more powerful in his mind than the love of conformity to religious decencies; but it cost him nothing; indeed, it only aggrandised his importance to decline the visit of the Spanish amba.s.sador on a Sunday.

He remained some time in France, maintaining the honour of his country on all occasions; particularly with reference to the mighty question, whether his coachman, or that of the Spanish amba.s.sador, should take precedence.

Sir Edward was instructed by his court to mediate between Louis XIII. and his Protestant subjects; but, instead of conducting the affair with coolness and political sagacity, he quarrelled with Luines, the minister of the French king. Complaints of his conduct were sent to England, and he was recalled. The death of the offended statesman happened soon afterwards, and Herbert was again dispatched to France.

The next remarkable event in his life was the publication of his book "_De Veritate_," whose object it was to show the all-sufficiency of natural religion. But he, who denied the necessity of a revelation to the human race, of matters concerning their eternal salvation, fancied that Heaven expressly revealed to him its will that his book should be published. Such are the inconsistencies of infidelity!

"A G.o.dless regent trembling at a star!"

His amusing auto-biography ends with an account of a noise from heaven, when he prayed for a sign of the Divine will, whether or not he should print his book.

Not many other circ.u.mstances of his life are on record. He was raised to the Irish peerage in 1625, and, afterwards, was created an English baron, by the t.i.tle of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, in Shrops.h.i.+re. He published another Latin work, in support of the cause of infidelity, and then gave to the world his History of the Reign of Henry VIII.; a book which has been always characterised, by writers who have never read a line of it, as a master-piece of historic biography; and if gross partiality for his hero, profound ignorance of human nature, imperfect acquaintance with his subject, and a pedantic style, const.i.tute the excellence of memoir-writing, Lord Herbert is an author of the first cla.s.s.

Though he had been raised to the peerage by the Stuarts, yet in the days of Charles I. we find him on the side of the parliament. Montgomery-castle was demolished by the King's troops, and the parliament made him a pecuniary compensation. He removed to London, died in 1648, and was buried in St. Giles's.

[Sidenote: His character.]

[Sidenote: His inferiority to the knights of yore.]

Such was Lord Herbert of Cherbury. His life may be placed in opposition to, rather than in harmony with, the heroes of early chivalric times. He had their courage, it is true, but he had none of their dignity and n.o.bleness, none of their manly grace; and there was a fantastic trifling in his conduct, which their elevated natures would have scorned. He was no Christian knight: the superst.i.tion of the Chandos's and Mannys, gross as it was, is not so offensive to the moral sense as the craft and subtlety of Lord Cherbury's intellect, which refined Christianity into deism. We can admire the heroes of the days of Edward III., placing their swords'

points on the Gospels, and vowing to defend the truth to the utterance; but how absurd was the fanaticism, and contemptible the vanity, of him who expected that Heaven would declare its will that he should deliver to the world the vain chimeras of his imagination!

[Sidenote: Decline of chivalric education.]

The history of English chivalry is now fast drawing to a close. We may mark the state of the system of chivalric education in the castles of the n.o.bility. Every great lord, as his ancestors had been, was still attended by several of the inferior n.o.bility and gentry, and such service was not accounted dishonourable. The boys were, as of old, called pages, though perhaps the age for this t.i.tle somewhat stepped beyond the ancient limit.

But this was not the only change in that cla.s.s of the chivalry of England.

In former days pages had been the attendants of the great in the amus.e.m.e.nts of the chace and the baronial hall; and had sometimes shared, with the squire, the more perilous duties of the battle-plain. In the course of time, as the frame of society became more settled, the arts of peace smoothed the stern fierceness of chivalry, and the page was the honorary servant of the lord or his lady, in the proud ceremonial of n.o.bility, and never mixed in war. He continued to be a person of gentle birth, and his dress was splendid; circ.u.mstances extremely favourable to that singular state of manners which permitted a woman, without any loss of her good name, to follow him she admired in the disguise of a gentle page, and gradually to win his affections by the deep devotion of her love. Poetry may have adorned such instances of pa.s.sion, for the subject is full of interest and pathos; but the poets in the best days of English verse so frequently copied from the world around them, that we cannot but believe they drew also in this instance from nature. This form of manners was romantic; but it certainly was not chivalric: for in pure days of chivalry the knights, and not the damsels, were the wooers.--But every thing was changed or degraded.

The general state of the page in the last days of chivalry may be collected from one of the dramas of Ben Jonson, where Lovel, a complete gentleman, a soldier, and a scholar, is desirous to take as his page the son of Lord Frampul, who was disguised as the host of the Light Heart Inn at Barnet:

"_Lov._ A fine child!

You will not part with him, mine host?

"_Host._ Who told you I would not.

"_Lov._ I but ask you.

"_Host._ And I answer, To whom? for what?

"_Lov._ To me, to be my page.

"_Host._ I know no mischief yet the child hath done, To deserve such a destiny.

"_Lov._ Why?

"_Host._ * * * * * *

Trust me I had rather Take a fair halter, wash my hands, and hang him Myself, make a clean riddance of him, than---- "_Lov._ What?

"_Host._ Than d.a.m.n him to that desperate course of life.

"_Lov._ Call you that desperate, which by a line Of inst.i.tution, from our ancestors, Hath been derived down to us, and received In a succession, for the n.o.blest way Of breeding up our youth, in letters, arms, Fair mien, discourses, civil exercise, And all the blazon of a gentleman?

Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence, To move his body gracefuller, to speak His language purer, or to tune his mind Or manners, more to the harmony of nature, Than in these nurseries of n.o.bility?

"_Host._ Ay that was when the nursery's self was n.o.ble.

And only virtue made it, not the market, That t.i.tles were not vented at the drum, Or common outcry, goodness gave the greatness, And greatness wors.h.i.+p: every house became An academy of honour, and those parts We see departed, in the practice now, Quite from the inst.i.tution."[132]

Something must be abated from this censure, for the speaker was a disappointed man, and therefore querulous. But whatever might have been the education of the page, the character itself was lost in the political convulsions in the time of Charles I. So many of the old inst.i.tutions of England were then destroyed, that we need not be surprised that the one should not escape, which had long survived its purpose and occasion. At the restoration of the monarchy the ancient court-ceremonial was revived, and therefore the page was a royal officer: but he is scarcely ever mentioned in the subsequent private history of the country; and his duties at the court were altogether personal though gentilitial, and had no reference at all to military affairs.

The military features of chivalry had been rudely marred in the wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, and by the days of James I. not a lineament remained. The graceful sports of chivalry had been sustained by the bold and vigorous Henry VIII., and romance could not but be pleasing to a maiden queen. With Prince Henry the tournament died.

Mightier questions than those which knighthood could resolve were before the world; and there was nothing in the bearing of the friends of Charles I., misnamed Cavaliers, to which the character of chivalric can be applied.

[Sidenote: Important change in knighthood by parliament of Charles I.]

The reign of Charles I. is, however, in one respect a memorable epoch in the history of English knighthood. By the ancient const.i.tution, as we saw in the last chapter, the King had the power of compelling his va.s.sals to be knighted. In all ages, however, whether of the high power, or the decline of chivalry, many persons, considering the duties and charges of the honour, had been wont to commute it by a fine; and this custom had often whetted the avarice of monarchs. Elizabeth was the last of our sovereigns who enriched her exchequer by receiving these commutations.

Charles I. endeavoured to augment his revenue by similar means; but the spirit of the age was hostile to his claim; and, certainly, as the military system had changed, it was absurd and unjust that the burden should survive the benefit of the ancient system. The people triumphed, and Charles conceded a prerogative which was only known as a means of public oppression. By a statute pa.s.sed in the sixteenth year of his reign (cap. 20.) the right of compelling men to receive knighthood was abolished.

[Sidenote: Application of chivalric honours to men of civil station.]

One branch of English chivalry, namely, knighthood as connected with property, knighthood as the external symbol of feudalism, was thus put an end to. But knighthood still continued as an honourable distinction. In this, the most interesting part of the subject, a great change had taken place: but it is impossible to mark the exact time of its occurring. We only know that even in the time of the Lancastrian princes knights could not, of their own free will, add new members to the order of chivalry, and that link of honourable equality, which used to bind all men of gentle birth in one state, was broken. The whole power of creating knights was usurped by the crown. The first step, which apparently led to this usurpation, was made even in the purest age of chivalry, the reign of our Edward III.: for at that time civil merit was rewarded by chivalric distinctions. The judges of the courts of law were dignified with knighthood.[133]

In the subsequent reigns of the Lancastrian princes, it seems to have been regarded as a well established custom, that men who deserved highly of the commonwealth should be honoured with some t.i.tle above the state of a simple gentleman. Chivalry, as the great fountain of honour, was again resorted to, and the t.i.tle of esquire was drawn forth. It was then applied to sheriffs of counties, serjeants-at-law, and other men of station; and afterwards courtesy added it to the names of the eldest sons of peers, of knights, and many others. The honour, like the rest of the chivalric honours, was personal, not hereditary, and in strictness could be enjoyed only by virtue of creation, or as a dignity appurtenant to an office. The mode of creation was copied from the invest.i.ture of a knight. The person who was to be admitted into the squirehood of the country knelt before his sovereign, who, placing a silver collar of scollop sh.e.l.ls mixed with esses round his neck, cried, "Arise, Sir Esquire, and may G.o.d make thee a good man."[134]

[Sidenote: Knights made in the field.]

This right of conferring chivalric honours upon persons of civil station was exercised by the sovereigns only, and it furnished the pretence of their a.s.suming the right of judging upon what occasions it should be conferred on men whose profession was war. The custom of creating knights in the field of battle by the general in command prevailed in England so late as the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Robert, the second son of Sir Henry Sidney, and brother of the famous Sir Philip, was knighted by Leicester, for his chivalric deportment at the battle of Zutphen. Ess.e.x, while commanding in Spain and Ireland, distributed chivalric honours with such profusion, that the Queen, who was always jealous of her power, made his conduct, on this subject, the matter of one of the articles of accusation against him.

[Sidenote: Carpet knights.]

Knighthood, when conferred in the field, was ever held as a very honourable distinction. When men, who were undistinguished by valour[135], were raised to chivalric rank, they were called Carpet Knights, as we are taught by the old ceremonials; and society always used the expression contemptuously, as we learn from our dramatists, who are as good witnesses for the customs of their times as romancers had been for those of earlier days. "He is knight, dubbed with unhacked rapier, and on carpet consideration," is the character which Sir Toby Belch gives of his friend Sir Andrew Aguecheek. In a pa.s.sage of surpa.s.sing beauty Fletcher has described the characters of the chivalric and the carpet knight.

"Oh the brave dames Of warlike Genoa! They had eyes to see The inward man, and only from his worth, Courage, and conquests, the blind archer knew To head his shafts, or light his quenched torch; They were proof against him else! No carpet knight That spent his youth in groves or pleasant bowers, Or stretching on a couch his lazy limbs, Sung to his lute such soft and pleasing notes As Ovid nor Anacreon ever knew, Could work on them, nor once bewitch'd their sense; Though he came so perfum'd, as he had robb'd Sabea or Arabia of their wealth, And stor'd it in one suit."[136]

The order of knighthood was indeed wretchedly degraded in the days of James I., if we can allow any truth to the remarks of Osborne. "At this time the honour of knighthood, which antiquity reserved sacred, as the cheapest and readiest jewel to present virtue with, was promiscuously laid on any head belonging to the yeomanry (made addle through pride, and a contempt of their ancestors' pedigree,) that had but a court friend, or money to purchase the favour of the meanest, able to bring him into an outward room when the King, the fountain of honour, came down, and was uninterrupted by other business; in which case, it was then usual for him to grant a commission for the chamberlain, or some other lord to do it."

[Sidenote: Knights of the Bath.]

The carpet, or ordinary knights, must not be confounded with knights of the Bath, though both cla.s.ses were knights of peace. Knights of the Bath had always precedence of knights-bachelors, without any regard to dates of creation. The knights of the Bath were men of rank and station, or distinguished for military qualities. They were created by our sovereign at their coronations, or on other great occasions, from the time of Henry V., when I last adverted to the subject, to so late a period as the reign of Charles II., who before he was crowned created sixty-eight knights of the Bath. When queens were sovereigns a commission was granted to a n.o.bleman to create knights; and the commission of Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Arundel is so rich in thought, and dignified in style, that I cannot resist the pleasure of transcribing it. After the usual salutations, "To all men," the Queen declares as follows: "Whereas, we, minding to proceed to the solemnity of our coronation in such and like honourable sort as in the coronation of our progenitors hath been accustomed, and as to our estate and dignity appertaineth, have, both for the more adornment of the feast of our said coronation, and for the n.o.bility of blood, good service, and other good qualities, of many our servants and other subjects, resolved to call certain of them to the order of knighthood. We let you wete, that for the special trust and confidence which we have reposed in our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin and counsellor, Henry Earl of Arundel, Lord Steward of our household, we have appointed, and by these presents do appoint and authorise him for us, and in our name, and by our authority, not only to do and exercise every thing and things to be done and exercised in our behalf, for the full making of those knights of the Bath, whom we have caused to be specially called for that purpose, but also to make and ordain such and so many other persons knights, within the time of two days next ensuing the date hereof, as by us shall be named, or by himself shall be thought meet, so that he exceed not in the whole the number of thirty," &c.[137]

[Sidenote: Full account of the ancient ceremonies of creating them.]

The ceremonies of creating those knights furnishes us with such an accurate picture of the manners of our ancestors, that, though I have touched upon the subject before, I shall, without apology, describe its minutest features. When an esquire came to court to receive the order of knighthood, in time of peace, after the custom of England, he was wors.h.i.+pfully received by the officers of the court, the steward, or chamberlain, if they were at the palace, or else by the marshals and ushers. Two esquires, sage, and well nourished in courtesy, and expert in deeds of knighthood, were a.s.signed as his teachers and governors. If he arrived in the morning, he was to serve the King with water at dinner, or else to place a dish of the first course upon the table; and this was his farewell to his personal duties of esquire. His governors then led him to his chamber, where he remained alone till the evening, when they sent a barber to him, who prepared his bath. Water was not yet put into it, but the esquire was, who sat, wrapped in white cloths and mantles, while his beard was shaved, and his head rounded. All this being done, the governors went to the King, and said to him, "Most mighty Prince, our Sovereign Lord, it waxeth nigh unto the even, and our master is ready in the bath."

The King then commanded his chamberlain to take into the chamber of him who was to be made knight the prowest and wisest knights about the court, in order that they might instruct and counsel the esquire, touching the order of knighthood.

The chamberlain, preceded by minstrels singing and dancing, and accompanied by the chosen cavaliers, went to the door of the esquire's room. When the governors heard the sound of minstrelsy, they stripped their master, and left him naked in the bath. The music ceased, and the chamberlain and his knights entered the room. After paying much wors.h.i.+p and courtesy to each other, he to whom precedence was allowed advanced to the bath, and, kneeling down, whispered these words in the ear of the esquire: "Right dear brother, may this order bring great honour and wors.h.i.+p unto you; and I pray that Almighty G.o.d may give you the praise of all knighthood. Lo! this is the order: Be ye strong in the faith of Holy Church, relieve widows and oppressed maidens, give every one his own, and, above all things, love and dread G.o.d. Superior to all other earthly objects, love the King, thy sovereign lord; him and his right defend unto thy power, and put him in wors.h.i.+p."

When the esquire was thus advised, the knight-counsellor took in his hand water from the bath, and threw it gently on the shoulder of his young friend. The other knights counselled and bathed him in a similar manner, and then, with the first knight, left the chamber. The governors took the esquire out of the bath, and laid him on a bed "to dry." When the process of drying was finished, he was taken out of bed, and clothed warmly; and there was thrown over him a cope of black russet, with long sleeves, and the hood, like that of a hermit, sewn on the cope. The barber had the bath for his fee, and the operation of shaving was paid for separately, agreeably to the estate of the esquire; and if there was any dispute about the sum, the King's Majesty's judgment was looked to.

A joyous company of knights, with squires dancing, and minstrels singing, entered the room, and with light pace and gay deportment led their friend into the chapel. There they were refreshed with wines, spices, and sweatmeats; and the knights-counsellors, being thanked by the esquire for their great labour and wors.h.i.+p, departed. The governors, the officers of arms, and the waits, remained in the chapel with the esquire. It was his duty to pa.s.s the night in prayer to Almighty G.o.d that he might worthily receive the honour, and discharge all the offices of knighthood. A taper of wax was always burning before him.

When the morning dawned a priest entered the chapel, and the more solemn duties of religion were proceeded with. Shriving, matins, the ma.s.s, and the communion, were performed, the esquire, during the princ.i.p.al ceremonies of the sacrament, holding the taper in his hand, with a penny stuck in the wax, near the light; and, finally, he offered them to the priest, the taper to the honour of G.o.d, and the penny to the honour of him that should make him a knight. His governors then took him from the chapel, and laid him in his bed, divesting him of his hermit's weeds.

After some time for refreshment had been allowed him, the governors went to the King, and said, "Most victorious Prince, our master shall awake when it so pleaseth Your Majesty." The King accordingly commanded the party of knights, esquires, and minstrels, to go into the chamber of the esquire, and awake him. They went, and said to him, "Sir, good day: it is time to arise." The governors raised him in his bed: the most worthy and the most sage knight presented him his s.h.i.+rt, the next cavalier in consideration gave him his breeches, the third his doublet, the fourth his robe of red taffata, lined with white sarcenet; and, when he was thus partially clothed, two others lifted him out of bed. Two donned his hose, which were of black silk, or of black cloth, with soles of leather, two others b.u.t.toned his sleeves, another bound round him a girdle of plain white leather, an inch broad. The combing of the head, and putting on the coif, were each performed by a knight. Another gentle cavalier also gave him his mantle of red tartayn, crossed with white on the breast, and fastened with a lace of white silk, from which depended a pair of white gloves. How his white-feathered white hat got upon his head I know not; for the grave ceremonial is altogether silent about the matter.

The dressing being concluded, the esquire was placed on horseback, and led by the knights into the hall of the King, preceded by a young gentle esquire, also on horseback, and carrying by its point a sword, in a white scabbard, with gilt spurs hanging upon the cross hilt. The marshal of England a.s.sisted the candidate for knighthood to alight, and led him into the hall, where he sat at the head of the second table, surrounded by his counselling knights, his sword-bearer, and governors. The King, on entering the hall, demanded the sword and the spurs, and they were given to him by the chamberlain. The King gave the right spur to one of the n.o.blest peers about him, commanding that lord to place it on the right heel of the esquire. The lord knelt on one knee, and, taking the esquire by the right leg, put the foot upon his knee, and not only affixed the spur to the heel, but made a cross upon the knee of the esquire, and kissed it. Another lord attached the left spur to the left foot with similar ceremonies. The King then, out of the meekness of his high might, girt the sword round the esquire. The esquire raised his arms, and the King, throwing his arms round the neck of the esquire, smote the esquire on the shoulder with his right hand, kissing him at the same time, and saying, "Be ye a good knight."

The new-made knight was then conducted by his counselling knights into the chapel, upon whose high altar he laid his sword, offering it to G.o.d and Holy Church, most devoutly beseeching Heaven, that he might always worthily demean himself in the order. He then took a sup of wine and left the chapel, at whose door his spurs were taken off by the master-cook, who received them for his fee; and in the fine style of old English bluntness reminded him, that "if he ever acted unworthily of his knighthood, it would be his duty, with the knife with which he dressed the meats, to strike away his spurs, and that thus by the customs of chivalry he would lose his wors.h.i.+p." The new-made knight went into the hall, and sat at table with his compeers; but it did not deport with his modesty to eat in their presence, and his abashment kept him from turning his eyes. .h.i.ther and thither. He left the table after the King arose, and went to his chamber with a great mult.i.tude of knights, squires, and minstrels, rejoicing, singing, and dancing.