This mode of conducting knights to the tournament was not the only pleasing prelude of the sports. As it was in perfect harmony with the general tone of chivalric feeling for knights to array themselves in weeds, which woman’s taste had chosen or approved of, so dames and maidens, with equal courtesy, imitated in their attire the semblance of knights. They often rode to the tournament with their girdles ornamented with gold and silver, to resemble military belts, and, sportively, wielding short and light swords, embossed with emblems of love and war.
When the knights reached the lists, their arms were examined by the constable; and such as were of a frame and fabric contrary to good chivalry were rejected. The lances were hurtless, the points being either removed altogether, or covered with broad pieces of wood, called rockets. The gallant manners of the age gave such lances the title of Glaives Courtois. The swords were blunted and rebated. Instances are on record of knights encountering with swords made of whalebone, covered with parchment, the helmet and hauberk being made of leather.
There existed very often, however, a disposition to convert tournaments into real battles. National rivalry broke through the restraints of knightly gentleness; envy of martial prowess, or of woman’s love, had found an occasion of venting its passion; and, in spite of the authority of the king-at-arms and heralds to reject weapons of violence, bribery and power appear often to have introduced them. As the nature of offensive armour may be judged from the defensive harness, so in the laws of a country we may read the state of manners. The practice of converting the elegant tournament into a deadly fray occasioned an oath to be imposed on all knights that they would frequent tournaments solely to learn military exercises[293]; and, by a law of England made towards the close of the thirteenth century, a broad-sword for tourneying was the only weapon that was allowed to the knight and squire; and there was a stern prohibition of a sword pointed, a dagger pointed, or a staff or mace. Knights banneret and barons might be armed with mufflers, and cuishes, and shoulder-plates, and a scull-cap, without more. Spectators were forbidden from wearing any armour at all, and the king-at-arms and heralds, and the minstrels, were allowed to carry only their accustomed swords without points.
The tilting armour in which knights were sheathed was generally of a light fabric, and splendid. Its ornaments came under a gentler authority than that of royal constables and marshals. If the iron front of a line of cavaliers in the battle-field was frequently gemmed with the variously coloured signs of ladies’ favors, those graceful additions to armour yet more beseemed the tournament. Damsels were wont to surmount the helmets of their knights with chaplets, or to affix streamers to their spears[294], and a cavalier who was thus honoured smiled with self-complacency on the highly emblazoned surcoat of his rival in chivalry.
The desire to please ladies fair formed the very soul of the tournament.[295] Every young and gallant knight wore the device of his mistress, while, indeed, the hardier sons of chivalry carried fiercer signs of their own achievements: but they were unmarked by the bright judges of the tourney, for their eyes could only follow through the press their own emblems of love.
Nothing was now to be heard but the noise and clattering of horse and armour.
“Ther mayst thou see devising of harneis
So uncouth[296], and so rich, and wrought so wele
Of goldsmithey, of brouding[297], and of stele,
The sheldes bright, testeres[298], and trappures;
Gold hewn helms, hauberks, cote-armures;
Lords in paramentes[299], on hir courseres,
Knights of retinue, and eke squires,
Nailing the speres, and helmes buckling,
Gniding[300] of sheldes, with lainers[301] lacing;
Ther as need is they were nothing idle:
The fomy steeds on the golden bridle
Gnawing, and fast the armourers also
With file and hammer pricking to and fro;
Yeomen on foot, and communes many on,
With short staves, thick as they may gone;
Pipes, trompes, nakeres[302], and clariounes,
That in the bataile blowen blody sounes.”[303]
After the arms had been examined, “à l’ostelle, à l’ostelle, to achievement knights and squires to achievement,” was cried by the well-voiced heralds from side to side, and the cavaliers, making their obeisances to the ladies, retired within their tents to don their harness. At the cry, “Come forth, knights, come forth,” they left their pavilions, and mounting their good steeds, stationed themselves by the side of their banners. The officers-at-arms then examined their saddles; for though they might grow unto their seats, yet it could only lawfully be done by noble horsemanship, and not by thongs attaching the man and horse together.[304]
The ladies and gallant spectators being fairly ranged round the lists, and the crowds of plebeian gazers being disciplined into silence and order, the heralds watched the gestures of the knight of honour, and, catching his sign that the sports might begin, they cried, “Laissez aller.” The cords which divided the two parties were immediately slackened, and the cavaliers dressing their spears to their rests, and commending themselves to their mistresses, dashed to the encounter, while the trumpets sounded the beautiful point of chivalry, for every man to do his devoir.[305]
Each knight was followed by his squires, whose number was, in England, by the ancient statute of tournaments already alluded to, limited to three. They furnished their lord with arms, arranged his harness, and raised him from the ground, if his foe had dismounted him. These squires performed also the more pleasing task of being pages of dames and damsels. They carried words of love to re-animate the courage and strength of the exhausted cavalier, and a ribbon drawn from a maiden’s bosom was often sent to her chosen knight, when in the shock of spears her first favour had been torn from the place where her fair hand had fixed it.[306]
The chivalric bands were so well poised, that one encounter seldom terminated the sport. Lances were broken, horses and knights overthrown, and the tide of victory flowed to either end of the lists. The air was rent with names of ladies. War-cries were changed for gentler invocations. Each noble knight called upon his mistress to assist him, thinking that there was a magic in beauty to sustain his strength and courage. “On, valiant knights, fair eyes behold you!” was the spirit-stirring cry of those older warriors who could now only gaze at and direct the amusements of chivalry. The poursuivants-at-arms cried at every noble achievement, “Honor to the sons of the brave!”[307] The minstrels echoed it in the loudest notes of their martial music, and the chivalric spectators replied by the cry, “Loyauté aux dames!”
The keen and well-practised eyes of the heralds noted the circumstances of the contest. To break a spear between the saddle and the helmet was accounted one point or degree of honour. The higher on the body the lance was attainted or broken, the greater was the consideration; and the difficulty of breaking it on the helmet was regarded as so considerable, that the knight who performed this feat was thought to be worthy of ten points. Either to strike one of the opposite party out of his saddle, or to disable him so that he could not join the next course, was an achievement that merited three points. A curious question once arose at a tournament held in Naples. A knight struck his antagonist with such violence as to disarm him of his shield, cuirass, and helmet, and in turn, he was unhorsed. The judges had some difficulty in determining who merited least reproach; and it was at length decided, quite in consonance with chivalric principles, that he who fell from his horse was most dishonoured, for good horsemanship was the first quality of a knight. Hence it was thought less dishonourable for a tourneying cavalier to fall with his horse than to fall alone. He who carried his lance comelily and firmly was more worthy of praise, although he broke not, than he who misgoverned his horse, and broke. He who ran high and sat steadily, accompanying his horse evenly and gently, was worthy of all commendation. To take away the rest of his adversary’s lance merited more honour than to carry away any other part of his harness. To break his lance against the bow or pommel of the saddle was accounted greater shame than to bear a lance without breaking. It was equally dishonourable to break a lance traverse, or across the breast of an opponent, without striking him with the point; for as it could only occur from the horse swerving on one side, it showed unskilful riding.[308] The courtesies of chivalry were maintained by the laws that he who struck a horse, or a man, when his back was turned, or when he was unarmed, deserved no honor. Any combatant might unhelm himself, and until his helmet was replaced, none could assail him.[309]
When all the knights had proved their valiancy, the lord of the tournament dropped his warder[310], or otherwise signed to the heralds, who cried “Ployer vos bannieres.” The banners were accordingly folded, and the amusements ended. The fair and noble spectators then descended from their galleries, and repaired to the place of festival. The knights who had tourneyed clad themselves in gay weeds of peace, and entering the hall amidst long and high flourishes of trumpets, sat under the silken banners whose emblazonings recorded the antique glory of their families. Favourite falcons were seated on perches above their heads, and the old and faithful dogs of the chace were allowed to be present at this joyous celebration of their master’s honor. Sometimes the knights encircled, in generous equality, a round table. On other occasions the feudal long table with its dais, or raised upper end, was used; and to the bravest knights were allotted the seats which were wont to belong to proud and powerful barons.[311] Every preux cavalier had by his side a lady bright. The minstrels tuned their harps to the praise of courtesy and prowess; and when the merriment was most joyous, the heralds[312] presented to the ladies the knights who had worthily demeaned themselves.[313] She, who by the consent of her fair companions was called La Royne de la Beaulté et des Amours, delivered the prizes to the kneeling knights.[314] This queen of beauty and love addressed each of them with a speech of courtesy, thanking him for the disport and labour which he had taken that day, presenting to him the prize as the ladies’ award for his skill, and concluding with the wish that such a valorous cavalier would have much joy and worship with his lady.[315] “The victory was entirely owing to the favor of my mistress, which I wore in my helmet,” was the gallant reply of the knight; for he was always solicitous to exalt the honor of his lady-love. As tournaments were scenes of pleasure, the knight who appeared in the most handsome guise was praised; and, to complete the courtesies of chivalry, thanks were rendered to those who had travelled to the lists from far countries.[316]
Dancing then succeeded, the knights taking precedence agreeably to their feats of arms in the morning. And now, when every one’s heart was exalted by the rich glow of chivalry, the heralds called for their rewards. Liberality was a virtue of every true knight, and the officers-at-arms were more particular in tracing the lines of his pedigree, than in checking him from overleaping the bounds of a prudent and rational generosity.
One day’s amusement did not always close the tournament: but on the second morning the knights resigned the lists to their esquires, who mounted upon the horses, and wore the armour and cognisances of their lords. They also were conducted by young maidens, who possessed authority to adjudge and give the prize to the worthiest esquire. At the close of the day the festival was renewed, and the honours were awarded. On the third morning there was a mêlée of knights and esquires in the lists, and the judgment of the ladies was again referred to, and considered decisive.[317]
Such were the general circumstances and laws of tournaments during the days of chivalry. These warlike exercises even survived their chief purpose, for they formed the delight of nations[318] after the use of artillery had driven the graceful and personal prowess of chivalry from the battle-field.[319] In all the time of their existence they were powerfully opposed by the papal see, avowedly on the ground of humanity. There was some little excuse for this interference; for though the lances were headless, and the swords rebated, yet the shock of the career sometimes overthrew men and horses, and bruises were as deadly as the lances’ wounds. The historians of the middle ages, who generally echoed the wishes of the Vatican, carefully record every instance where a life was lost in a tournament; and, perhaps, a dozen such unfortunate events are mentioned by the chroniclers of all European nations during the fourteenth century: a number exceedingly small when we reflect upon the nature of the conflict; that the time now spoken of was the very noonday of chivalry; and that not a circumstance of public joy, not a marriage among the nobles and high gentry of the land, but was celebrated by a tournament. The Vatican might thunder its denial of Christian sepulture to those who fell in a tilting ground; but still the knights would don their gorgeous harness to win the meed of noble chevisance. While learned casuists were declaring from the pulpits that they who were killed at tournaments were most assuredly damned[320], heralds’ trumpets in every baronial court were summoning knights and squires to gentle exercise and proof of arms; and though fanatical monks might imagine visions where knights were perishing in hell flames[321], yet gallant cavaliers, warm and joyous with aspirations for fame and woman’s love, could not be scared by such idle phantasms.
It was not, however, from any sincere considerations for humanity that the popes opposed themselves to the graceful exercises of the age; for, at the celebrated council held at Lyons in 1245, it was openly and for the first time declared, that tournaments were iniquitous, because they prevented the chivalry of Europe from joining the holy wars in Palestine. The shores of Syria might drink torrents of Christian blood, and the popes would bless the soil; but if in the course of several centuries a few unfortunate accidents happened in the lists of peace and courtesy, all the graceful amusements of Europe were to be interdicted, and the world was to be plunged into the state of barbarism from which chivalry had redeemed it. Tournaments were also interdicted on account of their expensiveness. Wealth poured forth its treasures, and art exercised its ingenuity in apparelling the barons, knights, and ladies; and even the housings of the horses were so rich as to rival the caparisons of Asiatic steeds: but the popes could see no advantage to the social state in all this gay and prodigal magnificence, and they wished that all the treasures of the West should be poured into the Holy Land.[322]
The joust was the other chief description of military exercises. It was so far inferior to the tournament, that he who had tourneyed, and had given largess to the heralds, might joust without further cost; but the joust did not give freedom to the tournament, nor was it the most favourite amusement, for baronial pomp was not necessary to its display, and many a joust was held without a store of ladies bright distributing the prize. There were two sorts of jousts, the joute à l’outrance, or the joust to the utterance, and the joute à plaisance, or joust of peace.
And, first, of the serious joust. The joust to the utterance expressed a single combat between two knights, who were generally of different nations. In strictness of speech, the judicial combat was a joust à l’outrance, and so was every duel, whether lawful or unlawful; but with such jousts chivalry has no concern.[323]
In a time of peace, during the year 1398, there were sundry jousts and combats between Scots and Englishmen, for proof of their valiant activity in feats of arms, and to win fame and honour. The most remarkable encounter was that which took place between Sir David de Lindsay, first Earl of Crawford, and the Lord Wells, in the presence of Richard II. and his court. They agreed[324] to run certain courses on horseback, with spears sharply ground, for life or death. The place appointed for these jousts was London bridge; the day was the feast of St. George. The doughty knights appeared sheathed in armour of proof, and mounted on mighty war-horses. They ran together with all the fierceness of mortal hate; and though they attainted, yet both kept their saddles. Lord Crawford retained his seat with such remarkable firmness that the people cried out that assuredly he was locked in his saddle. Incontinently that right noble knight leaped from his steed, and again, armed as he was, vaulted on his back, and amazed the beholders by his perfect horsemanship. The battle was renewed on foot; the skill of the Scotsman prevailed, and the life of the Lord Wells was in his power. De Lindsay now displayed the grace and courtesy of his chivalry, for he raised his foe from the ground, and presented him as a gift to the queen, wishing, like a true knight, that mercy should proceed from woman. The queen thanked the valiant and courteous Scot, and then gave liberty to the Lord Wells.[325]
Woman’s love was as frequent a cause for a joust to the utterance as national rivalry. Many a knight would sally from a besieged town during a suspension of general hostilities, and demand whether there was any cavalier of the opposite host who, for love of his lady bright, would do any deed of arms. “Now let us see if there be any amorous among you[326],” was the usual conclusion of such a challenger, as he reined in his fiery steed, and laid his spear in its rest. Such an invitation was generally accepted; but if it passed unheeded, he was permitted to return to the gates of his town; for it would not have been thought chivalric to surround and capture a cavalier who offered to peril himself in so noble a manner.
Two parties of French and English met by adventure near Cherbourg, and, like valiant knights, each desired to fight with the other. They all alighted, except Sir Launcelot of Lorrys, who sat firm and erect upon his horse, his spear in his hand, and his shield hanging from his neck. He demanded a course of jousting for his lady’s sake. There were many present who right well understood him; for there were knights and squires of the English part in love as well as he was. All was bustle, and every man ran to his horse, anxious to prove his gallantry against the noble Frenchman. Sir John Copeland was the first who advanced from the press, and in a moment his well-pointed ashen lance pierced through the side of Lorrys, and wounded him to death. Every one lamented his fate, for he was a hardy knight, young, jolly, and right amorous[327]; and the death of a gallant cavalier was always lamented by his brethren in arms; for the good companionship of chivalry was superior to national distinctions.
This noble feeling of knighthood was very pleasingly displayed in a circumstance that happened in France, during the year 1380. The Duke of Brittany profited by the weakness and confusion consequent on the death of King John, and easily made his peace with the court of the new monarch. The Duke of Buckingham, uncle of Richard II. of England, had been acting as the ally of the Duke of Brittany; but now, as the war was over, he prepared to conduct most of his army home. He had been joined by some knights from Cherbourg, then an English town, and in the new martial arrangements it was agreed that they should return to their garrison; but they were not allowed to wear their harness during their march. The Constable of France, who was then at the castle of Josselyn, gave them safe-conduct. After embracing their good companions at Vannes, they mounted their palfreys, and commenced their course. An hour’s riding brought them to Josselyn, and they rested awhile in the town, without the castle, intending merely to dine there, and then depart. While they were at their lodging, certain companions of the castle, knights and squires, came to see them, as was the wont of men of war, and particularly Englishmen and Frenchmen.
A French squire, named John Boucmell, discovered among the stranger band a squire called Nicholas Clifford, with whom, on former occasions, he had often exchanged looks and words of defiance. Thinking that a very fair opportunity for chevisance had presented itself, he exclaimed, “Nicholas, divers times we have wished and devised to do deeds of arms together, and now we have found each other in place and time where we may accomplish it. Let us now, in presence of the Constable of France, and other lords, have three courses on foot with sharp spears, each of us against the other.”
Nicholas replied, “John, you know right well that we are now going on our way by the safe-conduct of my lord your constable. What you require of me, therefore, cannot now be done, for I am not the chief of this safe-conduct, for I am but under those other knights who are here. I would willingly abide, but they will not.”
The French squire replied, “You shall not excuse yourself by this means: let your company depart, if they list, for I promise you, by covenant, that when the arms are performed between you and me, I will bring you to Cherbourg without peril. Make you no doubt of that.”
Nicholas answered, that he did not mean to gainsay his courtesy, but that he could not fight, as he and the rest of the English were journeying without their armour.
This objection was readily answered by the Frenchman, who proffered his own stores of harness; and Nicholas, though exceedingly indisposed to a joust, was obliged to say, that if the lords whom he accompanied would not permit the encounter there, he promised him, as soon as he arrived at Cherbourg, and was apprised of John’s arrival at Boulogne, he would come to him, and deliver him of his challenge.
“Nay, nay,” quoth John, “seek no respite: I have offered, and continue to offer, so many things so honourable, that you cannot depart and preserve your good name, without doing deeds of arms with me.”
The Frenchmen then retired to the castle, leaving the Englishmen to dine in their lodging.
After dinner the travelling knights repaired to the castle, to require from the Constable a troop of cavaliers to conduct them through Brittany and Normandy to Cherbourg. The subject of the challenge had been much discussed by the Frenchmen, and as the execution of it appeared to be within their own power, they earnestly requested their leader to forbid the further journey of the Englishmen, while the deed of arms remained unaccomplished. The Constable received the strangers sweetly, and then, softening the harshness of his words by the chivalric courtesy of his manner, he said to them, “Sirs, I arrest you all, so that ye shall not depart this day; and to-morrow, after mass, you shall see deeds of arms done between our squire and yours; and you shall dine with me, and after dinner you shall depart with your guides to Cherbourg.”
The English were right glad to be summoned to a chivalric sport, and, after drinking of the Constable’s wine, they took their leave, and returned to their lodging.
On the next morning each squire heard mass, and was confessed. They then leapt on their horses, and, with the lords of France on one part, and the Englishmen on the other, they rode all together to a fair plain, near the castle of Josselyn.
John Boucmell had prepared, according to his promise, two suits of harness, fair and good, and offered the choice to Nicholas; but the Englishman not only waved his choice, but, with still further courtesy, assisted John to arm. The Frenchman, in return, helped him to don the other suit of harness.
When they were armed they took their spears, and advanced against each other on foot, from the opposite ends of the lists. On approaching they couched their spears, and the weapon of Nicholas struck John on the breast, and, sliding under the gorget of mail, it entered his throat. The spear broke, and the iron truncheon remained in the neck. The English squire passed onwards, and sat down in his chair. The Frenchman appeared transfixed to the spot, and his companions advanced to him in alarm. They took off his helmet, and, drawing out the truncheon, the poor squire fell down dead. Grief at this event was general, but the saddest and sincerest mourners were Nicholas and the Earl of March, the former for having slain a valiant man of arms, and the other because John Boucmell had been his squire. The Constable spoke all the words of comfort to his noble friend which his kindness could prompt, and then made the knightly spectators repair to the castle, in whose hospitable hall every disposition to jealousy and revenge was discarded. After dinner the English troop bade farewell to the noble Constable, and, under the conduct of the gentle knight, the Barrois of Barres, they resumed their course to Cherbourg.[328]
I come now to describe the joust à plaisance. Jousts of this friendly description often took place at the conclusion of a tournament; for a knight who had shown himself worthy of the tourneying prize caracoled his prancing steed about the lists; and, animated by the applauding smiles of dames and damsels, he called on the surrounding cavaliers by their valiancy, and for love of the ladies, to encounter him in three strokes with the lance.
More frequently jousts were held at places appointed expressly for the occasion. When they were jousts of peace, the mode of combat was always specifically described. A knight would often challenge another for love of his lady to joust three courses with a spear, three strokes with a sword, three with a dagger, and three with an axe.[329] It was the rule for knights to strike at each other only on the body, or within the four quarters, as the times phrased their meaning. The loss of his good name and the forfeiture of his horse and arms were the penalties of violating this usage. Sometimes the weapons were similar to those used in tournaments; but more frequently they were weapons of war[330]; and though the lances were sharp, and the bright swords were not rebated, seldom was blood shed in these jousts, so truly admirable was the military skill of the soldiers in chivalry. The tournaments are interesting in the general circumstances of their splendour and knightly gallantry; but the jousts give us a far more curious knowledge of ancient manners.
But before I describe these martial amusements, let me call my reader’s attention for a few moments to the subtlety of intellect with which questions respecting the circumstances that happened at jousts were discussed.
Two gentlemen agreed to fight on horseback, and he who first fell was to be deemed the vanquished man. By the chance of battle it happened that they both fell together, and the sage spirits of chivalry were agitated by the question, who should be accounted victorious. Some thought that the defender ought to have the honour, for in all doubtful cases the challenged person should be favoured; others contended, that as the fall of the challenger might proceed from his own force, and not the virtue of the enemy, the judgment ought to lie dead: but the best and general decision was this:—if the combat were for trial of skill or love of the ladies, the challenger ought to lose the honour; but if it were for the decision of any mortal quarrel, the battle ought to be resumed some other day, because in combats of that kind no victory was gained until one of the parties were either slain or yielded himself prisoner, or had with his own mouth denied the words whereon the combat was occasioned.
On another occasion, seven knights agreed with seven of their companions to run certain courses for honour and love of the ladies. When the joust took place, five of one side acquitted themselves right chivalrously, but their two brother-tilters were overthrown. On the other side, two only performed their courses well, the rest of that company lost many lances and ran very foul. It was then debated whether unto five well-doers and two evil, or unto two well-doers and five evil, the honour ought to be allotted. As the question did not regard the merit of any particular man, but which party in general best performed the enterprise, it was alleged that the party wherein were most well-doers ought to have the honour, notwithstanding the fall of two of their companions. This opinion was met by the acknowledged rule of arms, that the fall from horseback by the enemies’ force or skill was the most reproachful chance that could happen to a knight. Therefore it was contended that the misadventure of two men only might reasonably be the loss of honour to the rest.[331] But further details of chivalric subtleties would afford little pleasure, and contenting myself with having shown that our ancestors’ intellects were as sharp as their swords, we will progress to the tilting ground.
One of the earls of Warwick went to France dressed in weeds of peace, but carrying secretly his jousting harness. In honour of his lady he set up three shields on three pavilions, and his heralds proclaimed his challenges, apparently from three different knights, among the lords, knights, and squires of honour in France. The devices on his shields and the names he assumed were emblematical of love and war. Three skilful jousters of France on three successive days touched the shields, and the earl, dressed in different guises, overthrew them all. They now became his friends: he entertained them with chivalrique magnificence, and gave jewels of price to them all. For himself he had acquired renown, and that was all he wished; for he now could return to his lady, and showing how he had sped in his chivalric courses, could proudly claim the reward of valour.[332]
“Ye have heard oftentimes, it said, how the sport of ladies and damsels encourageth the hearts of young lusty gentlemen, and causeth them to desire and seek to get honour.”[333]
Such is Froissart’s beautiful and romantic prelude to his account of a very interesting joust.
In the year 1389, the King Charles V. tarried several days at Montpellier, delighting himself with the pastime of the ladies; and the gentlemen of his court were no bad imitators of his fancy. Three cavaliers, in particular, were chiefly marked. They were the young Sir Boucicaut, Sir Raynold of Roy, and the Lord of St. Pye. Their valour was inspired by gallantry, and they resolved to achieve high feats of arms in the ensuing summer; and if it had been possible for a knight to entertain any other object in his imagination, than the favour of his sovereign lady, the gallant knights of France had a very noble motive to enterprise, for some reflections had lately been cast upon their honour by an English cavalier. The noble knighthood that was in them felt a stain like a wound; and this imputation on their honor gave the form and color to the joust they meditated; for they resolved to perform their deeds of arms in the frontier near Calais, hoping that Englishmen might be incited to meet them.
The holding of the joust at such a place was not deemed courteous by some members of the king’s council, for it was thought that the English would consider it presumptuous; and the more sage and prudent knights murmured their opinion, that it was not always right to consent to the purposes of young men, for incidents rather evil than good often sprang from them. The king, however, who was young and courageous, overruled all scruples, and ordered that the joust should proceed, because the knights had promised and sworn it before the ladies of Montpellier.
Then the king sent for the three knights into his chamber, and said to them, “Sirs, in all your doing regard wisely the honor of us and of our realm; and to maintain your estate, spare nothing, for we will not fail you for the expence of ten thousand franks.”
The three knights knelt before the king, and thanked his grace. So important to the national honor was this joust considered, that the challenge was not published till it had been revised by Charles and his council.
This was its form:—“For the great desire that we have to come to the knowledge of noble gentlemen, knights, esquires, strangers, as well of the nation of France, as elsewhere of far countries, we shall be at St. Ingelbertes, in the marshes of Calais, the 20th day of the month of May next coming, and there continue thirty days complete, the Fridays only excepted, and to deliver all manner of knights and squires, gentlemen, strangers of any nation, whosoever they be, that will come thither for the breaking of five spears, either sharp or rockets, at their pleasure; and without our lodgings shall be the shields of our arms, both shields of peace and of war, and whosoever will joust, let him come or send the day before, and with a rod touch which shield he pleases. If he touch the shield of war, the next day he shall joust with which of the three he will; and if he touch the shield of peace, he shall have the jousts of peace and of war; so that whosoever shall touch any of the shields shall shew their names to such as shall be then limited by us to receive them. And all such stranger-knights as will joust shall bring each some nobleman on his part who shall be instructed by us what ought to be done in this case. And we require all knights and squires, strangers that will come and joust, that they think not we do this for any pride, hatred, or evil will, but that we only do it to have their honorable company and acquaintance, which with our entire hearts we desire. None of our shields shall be covered with iron or steel, nor any of theirs that will come to joust with us, without any manner of fraud or unfair advantage, but every thing shall be ordered by them to whom shall be committed the charge of governing the jousts. And because that all gentlemen, noble knights, and squires, to whom this shall come to knowledge, should be assured of its being firm and stable, we have sealed the present writing with the seals of our arms. Written at Montpellier the twentieth day of November, in the year of our Lord God one thousand, three hundred, four-score and nine, and signed thus. Raynolde du Roy—Boucicaut—St. Pye.”
When this challenge was published, the knights and squires of England entertained great imaginations to know what to do; and most of them thought it would be deeply to their blame and reproach that such an enterprise should take place near Calais, without their passing the sea. They therefore thanked the French chivalry for deporting themselves so courteously, and holding the joust so near the English marshes.
Accordingly, in the fresh and jolly month of May, when the spring was at its finest point, the three young knights of France mounted their gay steeds, and sportively held their course from Paris to Boulogne. They then progressed to the abbey of St. Ingilbertes, and were right joyful to learn that a number of knights and squires of merry England had, like good companions, crossed the sea, and were arraying themselves for the joust. The Frenchmen raised three green pavilions, in a fair and champaign spot, between St. Ingilbertes and Calais. To the entrance of each pavilion they affixed two shields, with the arms of the knights, one shield of peace, and the other of war; and again proclaimed that such knights as would do deeds of arms should touch one of the shields, or cause it to be touched, whichever mode pleased him, and he should be delivered according to his desire.
On the day appointed for the jousts, all the respective chivalries of France and England poured from the gates of St. Ingilberte and Calais, eager for the gallant fray. Such as proposed to be mere spectators met in friendly union, without regard to national differences. The King of France was present in a disguise.[334] The three French knights retired within their pavilions, and squires donned their harness. The English jousters apparelled themselves, and took their station at the end of the plain, opposite the pavilions. A flourish of clarions proclaimed the commencement of the joust, and the herald’s trumpet sounded to horse.
When all was hushed in breathless expectation, Sir John Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, pricked forth with the slow and stately pace of high-born chivalry, from the end of the lists which had been assigned to the English strangers. He was a right gallant cavalier, and he commanded his squire to touch the war-shield of Sir Boucicaut. Incontinently, that noble son of chivalry, ready mounted, left his pavilion with shield and spear. The knights marked each other well, and then spurred their horses to the encounter. The spear of Sir Boucicaut pierced through the shield of the English knight; but it passed hurtless over his arm, and their good steeds bounded to either end of the plain. This course was greatly commended. The second course was altogether harmless; and in the third course the horses started aside, and would not cope. The Earl of Huntingdon, who was somewhat chafed, came to his place, waiting for Sir Boucicaut taking his spear; but he did not, for he showed that he would run no more that day against the Earl, who then sent his squire to touch the war-shield of the Lord of St. Pye. He issued out of his pavilion, and took his horse, shield, and spear. When the Earl saw that he was ready, he spurred his horse, and St. Pye did not with less force urge his own good steed. They couched their spears: at the meeting their horses crossed, but with the crossing of their spears the Earl was unhelmed. He returned to his squires, and incontinently was rehelmed. He took his spear, and St. Pye his, and they ran again, and met each other with their spears in the middle of their shields. The shock nearly hurled both to the ground, but they saved themselves by griping their horses with their legs, and returned to their places, and took breath. Sir John Holland, who had great desire to do honourably, took again his spear, and urged his horse to speed. When the Lord of St. Pye saw him coming, he dashed forth his horse to encounter him. Each of them struck the other on the helms with such force that the fire flew out. With that attaint the Lord of St. Pye was unhelmed; and so they passed forth, and came again to their own places. This course was greatly praised, and both French and English said that those three knights, the Earl of Huntingdon, Sir Boucicaut, and the Lord St. Pye, had right well done their devoirs. Again the earl desired, for love of his lady, to have another course; but he was refused, and he then mixed with the knights, and spectators, and gave place to others, for he had ran all his six courses well and valiantly, so that he had laud and honour of all parties.
These noble jousts continued for four days.[335] The gallant champions assembled after matins, and did not quit the course till the vesper-bell of the abbey summoned them to prayer. Of the noble company of knights and squires there were few who did not add something to their fame; for if a knight happened to be unhelmed, yet perhaps he did not lose his stirrups, and he was admired for sustaining a severe shock.
Such was the noble chevisance of the jousters that no mortal wound was inflicted.[336] The lance was the only weapon used. To unhelm the adverse knight by striking his frontlet was the chiefest feat of arms, and in the fierce career of opposing steeds, the firmest strength and the nicest skill could alone achieve it. Helms struck fire, lances were splintered, and the lance-head was lodged in the shield: but sometimes the shield resisted the lance, and men and steeds reeled back to their several pavilions.
Each gallant knight, however,
“grew unto his seat,
And to such wond’rous doing brought his horse
As he had been incorps’d and demi-natur’d
With the brave beast.”
The knighthood and squirery of England sent forth nearly forty of their host to vindicate their chivalry, and right nobly did they deport themselves against the doughtiest lances of France. There was only one knight who disgraced the order of chivalry. By birth he was a Bohemian, in station an attendant of the King of England. It was demanded of him with whom he would joust. He answered, with Boucicaut. They then prepared themselves and ran together, but the Bohemian struck a prohibited part of the armour, and he was greatly blamed that he demeaned his course so badly. By the laws of the joust he should have forfeited his arms and horse, but the Frenchman, out of courtesy to the Englishmen, forgave him. The Bohemian to redeem his shame required again to joust one course. He was demanded against whom he would run; and he sent to touch the shield of Sir Raynolde du Roy. That gallant knight was not long before he answered him. They met in the middle of their shields, and the French cavalier struck his antagonist from his horse; and the Englishmen were not displeased that he was overthrown, because he had ran the first course so ungoodly.
This Sir Raynolde du Roy was one of the best jousters in all the realm of France, and no wonder; for our faithful and gallant chronicler reports that he lived in love with a young maiden, which availed him much in all his affairs.[337] One of his most valiant antagonists was a gentle knight of England, young and fresh, a jolly dancer and singer, called Sir John Arundell. At the first course they met rudely, and struck each other on the shields, but they held themselves without falling, and passed forth their course. The second course they struck each other on the helms; the third course they crossed and lost their staves; the fourth course resembled the second; the fifth course they splintered their spears against their shields, and then Sir John Arundell ran no more that day.
At the conclusion of the jousts the Earl of Huntingdon, and the Earl Marshal, and the Lord Clifford, the Lord Beaumont, Sir John Clinton, Sir John Dambreticourt, Sir Peter Sherborne, and all other knights that had jousted those four days with the French knights, thanked them greatly for their pastime, and said, “Sirs, all such as would joust of our party have accomplished their desires; therefore now we will take leave of you: we will return to Calais, and so cross to England; and we know that whoever will joust with you will find you here these thirty days, according to the tenor of your challenge.”
The French knights were grateful for this courtesy, saying, that all new comers should be right heartily welcome; “and we will deliver them according to the rights of arms, as we have done you; and, moreover, we thank you for the grace and gallantry that you have shewn to us.”
Thus in knightly manner the Englishmen departed from Saint Ingilbertes, and rode to Calais, where they tarried not long, for the Saturday afterwards they took shipping and sailed to Dover, and reached that place by noon. On the Sunday they progressed to Rochester, and the next day to London, whence every man returned to his home.
The three French knights remained the thirty days at Saint Ingilbertes, but no more Englishmen crossed the sea to do any deed of arms with them.[338]