The defence of the body was for a time wholly left to the mail with the underlying gambeson, and the shield, but the head had always received the additional protection of a cap of steel, called the chapelle-de-fer, worn indifferently under or over the coif of mail. Effigies of the first half of the thirteenth century show it both round and flat at the top (Figs. 4, 5, 6, and 7). The nasal piece associated with the conical helm (Fig. 2) of the eleventh century tended to disappear in the twelfth.

The fact that English armies under Richard I. were made to abandon their ancient formation and to engage on horseback, and to rely on the battle-axe and mace as their chief weapons, and the presence of the large bodies of archers and arbalisters which he brought into the field, led to the introduction, probably by Richard himself, of the great heaume worn over the steel cap and padding, and only put on at the moment of battle. It is first seen on Richard’s second seal, and consisted of a cylinder, usually flat-topped, with two horizontal clefts for vision, and strengthened by bands crossing each other over the face and top. Breathing-holes were added towards the middle of the century, and the grated front was introduced soon after, to admit more air. This is seen in the first seal of Henry III., and another advance, the movable vantail, hinged at the side, in his second seal. An oft-described specimen in the Tower weighs 13 lb. 8 oz., but is regarded by Lord Dillon, the present Curator of the Armouries, as a forgery. About 1270 we sometimes find it with a round top, though the flat top did not go quite out till the beginning of the fourteenth century. The attempts made to seize and drag it off, so often noticed by Chroniclers, led to its being secured by a chain. The further changes seen were improvements in the visor, giving better vision and more air, fixing it more securely, and so transferring the weight from the head to the shoulders, and changing the flat top to a cone, on which blows fell with less stunning effect.

These heaumes, by concealing the face, intensified a difficulty already felt at Hastings, when Duke William was obliged to raise his helmet to contradict a rumour of his death. Recognition, now become impossible, led to the use of heraldic badges, at first painted on the helm, as they already were on the shield; and of crests, first in the fan or peacock’s feather shape, as on the second seal of Richard I., and afterwards to more distinctive crests and badges. The Crusading Chroniclers relate that the crests were brilliant with jewels, and they are represented as circled by coronets in the seals of Henry III. and his son Edward. The heaume of St. Louis, 1249, was gilded. Richard himself, in gala dress, on the day after his marriage with Berengaria, is described by Vinsauf as wearing a Damascus sword with gold hilt and silver-scaled scabbard, his saddle inlaid with precious stones, his horse bitted with gold, and in place of the high defensive plates before and behind in general use two little golden lions with raised paws.

Next to the headpiece the most urgent necessity was to protect the breast against the direct shock of the lance, and for this a rigid defence was of the utmost importance. Thus a beginning was made even during the mail period towards the introduction of plate-armour. Jazerant and scale armour of small plates had been adopted to this end by the Franks, and Charlemagne had introduced the classic breastplate. Something of the kind was perhaps even known to the Viking, and by the twelfth century Scandinavians certainly used a defence called a briostbiorg beneath the mail, extending from the neck to the waist. Chroniclers allude to shining breastplates long before there is the slightest appearance of them in illustrations, though from the time that surcoats were worn over the armour it becomes difficult to see what is beneath. Allusion is often made to a plastron-de-fer; and in the combat between Richard, when Earl of Poitou, and William des Barres we read that an iron defence was worn over the breast. One of the effigies in the Temple Church is equipped with a back and breast plate of single plates united by straps. It is stated that the bodyguard of Henry III., 400 strong, which fled at the battle of Lewes in 1244, wore breastplates; and in 1277, 300 cavalry so armed were sent to Wales.

Following the head and breast, the limbs received protection from plate-armour, the knees and shins of mounted men-at-arms being peculiarly exposed to injury in melées with infantry, from blows of the two-handed battle-axe and mace. Additional security was absolutely essential against these weapons, which were introduced both for horse and foot by Richard I., and had grown in favour ever since. These even penetrated mail, the Irish axe in particular being reputed to cut off limbs in spite of its protection. The Scandinavians, with their keen military instincts, had provided themselves in the twelfth century with knee-caps of iron attached to overalls worn over the mail. Our earlier mailed effigies, however, show no special defence for the knee, though the one at Salisbury, attributed by Stothard to William Longespée, already noticed, has a stout thong passing between the links of mail just under it. The effigy of Robert of Normandy, of which there is a cast in the National Portrait Gallery, shows a thick overall under the chausses of mail, and drawn over the mail chaussons at the knee (Fig. 8, No. 1), and a similar appearance is seen in the first seal of Richard I.; in the sleeping guards of the Easter Sepulchre at Lincoln (Fig. 9); and other monuments of the same date. In the effigy attributed to William, Earl of Pembroke, in the Temple, who died in 1289 (Fig. 8, No. 2), and in Stothard’s drawing of the effigy at Whitworth, an appearance of a thick cap is also to be seen, perhaps the extremity of a padded overall overlapping the knee; and in other examples the thick quilted gambeson leg-defence is clearly seen below the mail, covering the knee, and in the case of De Vere, who died 1221, it has the interesting addition of an octagonal plate (Fig. 8, No. 3), apparently of iron, over the kneecap. The effigy, called the second Longespée, at Salisbury (Fig. 8, No. 4), about 1260, exhibits an apparently double thickness of mail at this point, caused by the overlapping of the chausses and chaussons, with the addition of a circular plate with a quatrefoil upon it. Contemporary Chroniclers also mention that greaves were worn by knights in the time of Richard I., though the earliest manuscript illustration of them occurs in Matthew of Paris’s Lives of the Offas.

The feet were cased in mail, and the spurs were simple straight spikes or goads, perhaps worn on one heel only and called the prick-spur. Under the early Plantagenets the point was fixed on a ball, while the rowel spur is seen in the monument to Le Botiler of the reign of Henry III.

Under the heroic Richard the powers of defence seem to have definitely triumphed over those of attack. Knights sheathed in mail over quilted work, and wearing the great battle-helm, appeared invulnerable and able to encounter the most fearful odds, and even to rescue each other when dismounted amidst swarming enemies. The further changes during the mailed period were in the direction of military display, which has always offered an attractive field. Whenever the pressure for improved armament was relieved through the defensive equipment for the time satisfying the wearer, whether a naked savage or well-equipped soldier, attention was turned to the warrior’s personal embellishments, partly to gratify the wearer’s vanity, partly to captivate and dazzle, but chiefly to affright and awe the enemy. The fact that the French and English wore the same armour and equipment, and the common occurrence of internecine wars at this time, rendered distinguishing costumes particularly necessary. By simply throwing away their cognisance at the battle of Noyon, Peter de Maule and others escaped recognition and mingled with the pursuers, while Ralph de Courci mistook the French for his own side and was taken prisoner. Nothing but the different-coloured crosses sewn to the garments of the French, English, and Flemish Crusaders served to distinguish them, and white crosses alone distinguished the party of Simon de Montfort, 1264, from their enemies. Nothing approaching to any uniform is heard of in this age, unless when Richard of Gloucester traversed France in 1250, with a retinue of forty knights equipped all alike, with new harness glittering with gold, on his visit to the Pope.

The beautifully-sculptured guards of the early fourteenth century Easter Sepulchre in Lincoln Cathedral (Fig. 9) present fine examples of the costume of the knight armed with the mace, sword, and shield towards the end of the mailed period. The bassinet on the figure to the right is particularly noteworthy.

III
The Transition Period—From about the Reign of Edward I. to that of Richard II., 1272-1399

The warrior sheathed in mail, mounted on his charger, whether pricking alone or in troops over hill and dale, was a picturesque and portentous figure, and when massed for battle presented an awe-inspiring sight. The gray burnished steel, glittering in the sun or under lowering skies, relieved by the fluttering pennons and banners and emblazoned shields, formed a picture that the old Crusading Chroniclers loved to dwell on, filling the imagination with those great gatherings of the chivalry of Europe. In the days of the last of the Paladins, of Godfrey de Bouillon and Richard Cœur de Lion, the dress of burnished mail was the knight’s especial pride, and no garment concealed it. But as progress and love of change are universal, and the mail itself could not well be embellished, an embroidered surcoat was worn over it in the more degenerate days of John and his son Henry, concealing all but the limbs and head. This garment became the vehicle for distinguishing marks and colours, like the modern racing-jacket. A little later, when emblazoned with heraldry, it served to distinguish the individual. The transfer of the surcoat from under to over the mail gave rise to the custom of concealing the steel panoply under rich materials, which distinguished the Transition Period in armour. While it lasted we literally and constantly meet with the “iron hand under the velvet glove.” This and the continual piling of one coat of defence upon another, in the fruitless attempt to secure immunity for life and limb, are the chief characteristics of the period we are now to treat.

Until the Transition, the mounted knight, cap-à-pied in mail over the quilted gambeson, with the steel cap, and the great helm for the supreme moment of combat, seemed completely invulnerable unless to missile weapons mechanically projected. Few men-at-arms fell in actual battle on the winning side, and great slaughters were only consequent on the complete rout of one of the parties. Under the warlike Edward I. the powers of attack must have gathered renewed force, for a long period of tentative changes set in which finally ended in the suit of mail being completely hidden beneath an outer shell of steel plates. The qualities of steel for offensive weapons must also at this same time have undergone marked improvements, and we now begin to hear of definite seats of manufacture attaining world-wide celebrity. Cologne, Lorraine, Poitou produced weapons which are said to have pierced mail and quilted armour with ease. The heavy blows given by the battle-axe and mace, used by horse and foot, must, however, have been chiefly instrumental in introducing extra means of defence. These were by no means at first universally of steel, for cuir-bouilli or boiled leather, a very impervious substance when properly prepared, seemed at one time likely to rival it for general use; and trial was made of every other kind of material that could be used for defence, such as horn, whalebone, ivory, padded wool, leather, either alone or strengthened with metal studs or splints, brass, and small plates of iron fixed to textiles. It is almost certain that for a time the moulded surface of cuir-bouilli, with its gilded and perhaps coloured surfaces, was preferred to steel. During this tentative period every combination of these materials with chain-mail is to be met with, and the triumph of steel-plate armour only became definite after every possible substitute, combined in every practicable way, had been tried either at home or abroad and found wanting. It is at least improbable that any armour pictured with enriched designs at this date was of steel.

It would be impossible within the limits of this work, and of little interest, to endeavour to describe the constant changes, often due to individual caprice, that occur; for when groups of soldiery are represented, even long after the Transition, it is rare to find two individuals accoutred in precisely the same manner. We may rest assured, however, that each piece as it successively appears was introduced to meet some new perfection in the weapons of attack, or to cope with some new tactics, in short, to protect some part that had been proved by the practical experience of armed strife to be vulnerable. These additions were naturally subject to modification, according to the passing dictates of military display, or the changing fashions of civilian dress.

Fig. 10 is taken from one of the English MSS. most valuable for the knightly costume of the Transition. The armour is in this MS. almost entirely mail, of the banded variety, worn beneath a surcoat, which is hardly ever emblazoned. Plate-armour is only represented by the kneecaps, with an occasional roundel and shoulder-plate. The great helm, always with a fan-crest, the chapelle-de-fer worn beneath or above the mail coiffe, the bassinet, often visored, and the broad-brimmed round helmet are worn, except in jousts, quite indifferently.

The head, being the most vulnerable part of the body and the most difficult to protect, received the greatest amount of attention. The great helm, with bands and cross-cuts for the sight, continued in use throughout the Transition, but with a sugar-loaf crown, and rendered less insupportable in the reign of Edward I. by transferring the weight from the head to the shoulders. It was occasionally of brass—Chaucer mentions the knight’s “helm of latoun bright,” a metal used so far back as Henry I.—and much more frequently of cuir-bouilli, as in the tournament at Windsor in 1278, when twelve of the thirty-eight knights had gilded helms, and were called digniores. There can be no doubt, however, that a helm of Poitou steel was even then the surest defence.

To the custom of hanging arms in churches we are indebted for the preservation of all the most valuable historic pieces. The first record of this poetic usage occurs early in the thirteenth century, when William of Toulouse hung his helm and splendid shield over St. Julien’s tomb at Brives, and his lance and sword, bow and quiver, outside. By the middle of the century it had become the practice, when a brave knight died, to hang his shield and helm on the walls above his grave, and it appears in addition, from the instance of the King of France after the battle of Cassel in 1328, that the victor in some cases presented his arms to the nearest church. The helm of the Black Prince, still suspended above his tomb at Canterbury (Fig. 11), is an illustration familiar to all. By the kindness of Sir Noel Paton we are enabled to present an even finer helm (Fig. 12), in more perfect preservation, which formerly hung above the tomb of Sir Richard Pembridge, K.G., in Hereford Cathedral, who died one year before the Prince of Wales, in 1375. Its admirable workmanship has been fully described by Baron de Cosson, its fine steely quality being such that no penknife would scratch its polished surface. It is formed of three pieces—the cone, the cylinder, and the top-piece, welded so beautifully that no seam is visible, and these are joined by round-headed nails clinched on the inside. Every practical detail, down to the minutest, has received careful attention. The metal is thickened and turned outwards round the eye-piece, which is thus efficiently guarded, and the bottom edge is rolled inwards over a thick wire, so as not to cut the surcoat. These and other details given by Baron de Cosson in the Catalogue of Armour exhibited at the Royal Archæological Institute in 1880, show conclusively that this specimen at least is a real war helm, fitted to resist and to strike fire under the shock of a lance that might unhorse its wearer. The conical helm was worn over the visorless bassinet next described, as the previous helms had been worn over the chapelle-de-fer, and being only donned in the hour of danger, is rarely represented in monuments, except as a pillow under the head. When worn the face was invisible and recognition impossible, so that a moulded crest of linen, leather, or some light material surmounted it and became its most important feature. A mantling was also introduced, at first in the simple form of a puggaree, as seen in the effigy of the Black Prince (Fig. 16), but later of more ample dimensions, fantastically shredded to represent the supposed rents of battle. When the taste for military display increased, these mantles were usually of scarlet lined with ermine. A wide-rimmed helm is often represented as worn over or in place of the bassinet, and jewelled and crested. This form reappears continually, its first introduction dating so far back as the Bayeux tapestry.

The bassinet, used with or without the helm, enjoyed a prolonged period of favour from Edward I. to Henry VI. It differed from the older chapelle-de-fer worn with the hood of mail, in having the mail hung round it, instead of passing over or under it. This mail, now called the camail or gorget, was laced to a series of staples along the edges of the bassinet and fell like a curtain on to the shoulders. At the outset merely a skull-cap, it was gradually prolonged at the back and sides so as to leave only the face exposed. Early in the fourteenth century its appearance was profoundly modified by the addition of a movable visor, at first hinged at the side, but subsequently raised and lowered from above the forehead. Being readily removed, the visor was only worn in action, and is thus rarely represented in effigies and brasses. No helm was worn over the visored bassinet, which became the battle head-piece of the fourteenth century and part of the fifteenth, the helm being reserved for jousts and tournaments. We are able, by the kindness of Baron de Cosson, to give an illustration (Fig. 13) of a real bassinet of large size, from the tomb of Sir John de Melsa in Aldborough Church, Holderness. It is described in the Catalogue of Arms already referred to as of the second half of the fourteenth century, and was worn with a large visor. A second bassinet is illustrated (Fig. 14) from Sir Noel Paton’s collection, described by Baron de Cosson as transformed into a sallad about the middle of the fifteenth century. Fine bassinets are in the Tower and at Woolwich, and in the Burgess, Christy, and Wallace collections, all happily belonging to the nation, and in Warwick Castle and at Parham, but none are directly connected with English wearers. The beaked visor, represented in so many manuscripts of about the close of the fourteenth century, is a fine defensive and not unpicturesque form. There are several real examples in the Musée d’Artillerie in Paris, two of which are regarded as English.

The defence of the breast was always considered next in importance to the head, and fourteenth-century inventories constantly refer to “pairs of plates large,” perhaps like those till recently worn in Persia, corsets de fer, cors d’acier, brust plate pour justes, and other defences of plate. Chaucer writes, “Some would be armed in an haubergeon, a bright breastplate and a gypoun.” The globose form given to the chests of effigies, such as that of the Black Prince, seems to imply the presence of a rigid defence under the emblazoned surcoat.

The greave was a rigid gaiter fitting at first only over the front of the leg below the knee, but afterwards enveloping it; and it was either of metal or cuir-bouilli. When seen on English fourteenth-century monuments it usually seems to be of steel fitting closely over the mail, and laced or buckled at the back, but at times it is so richly decorated as to suggest cuir-bouilli. Greaves are usually omitted on early monuments, and are only commonly seen when they had become an integral part of the suit of armour. As yet they were not habitually worn except in battle, and knights were not at this time represented in their effigies accoutred for war, but in ordinary military costume. Thus the effigy of Aymer de Valence shows no plate armour, except the genouillière; but the two mounted figures of the canopy present the visored bassinet, the high gorget, the arm and elbow plates, the tubular greaves and steel sollerets for the feet. The tubular leg defence is not seen in earlier representations, and its introduction may coincide with the first recorded appearance in the field of large bodies of Welsh armed with long knives. It was usually hinged and buckled, and becomes more general as the century advances. This appears in the inventory of Piers Gaveston, 1313, who possessed three pairs of such greaves. Monstrelet relates that the bailiff of Evreux, sallying out without his greaves, had his leg badly broken by the kick of a horse.

Defences of plate armour for the feet are called sollerets, and are first, if somewhat indistinctly, visible in the small equestrian figure on the canopy of the tomb of Edmund Crouchback, Earl of Lancaster, in Westminster Abbey, the mail not being continued over the front of the feet as in the older effigies. One of the small equestrian figures of the adjoining tomb of Aymer de Valence has the feet, though mutilated, distinctly covered with small rectangular plates, arranged longitudinally in continuation of the greaves. In the D’Abernon and other brasses of the second quarter of the fourteenth century laminar plates are fastened across the upper part of the foot. Other varieties are the scaled sollerets of the De Cheney brass, 1375; the De Sulney brass, with sollerets of laminar plates, and one large plate over the instep; the Littlebury effigy, with longitudinal plates like those of De Valence. In the effigy of John of Eltham, 1334, we seem for the first time to meet with the whole foot visible incased in plate, as it continued to be during the rest of the century. In the Warwick collection a pair of sollerets are made each of one piece like sabots. The long curved sollerets with pointed toes of the second half of the fourteenth century are called pouleynes or poulaines, from the souliers à la Polaine, and differ slightly from those known as Cracowes, introduced by Richard II. from Bohemia. There are two fine pointed sollerets at Warwick, one measuring twenty-five inches from toe to heel, or with the spur thirty-two and a half inches. Another beautifully-made one attached to leg armour has the plates scalloped along the edges, and is attributed to Edward, son of Henry VI.

No great time could well have elapsed before similar defences of plate were found necessary to protect the shoulders and elbows, which were scarcely less vulnerable than the legs. The shoulder-pieces, however, are rarely visible in illustrations and effigies, being much concealed by the surcoat. The earliest arm-defence is in the form of an elbow-guard, and appears in the effigy at Salisbury, date about 1260, consisting of one cupped rosette over another. Elbow-guards are more commonly seen in the second quarter of the fourteenth century, when they consist of cups and discs, or both combined, the latter occasionally spiked. The equestrian figures of the De Valence monument, already mentioned, show in one case gilt rosettes on the shoulders and elbows, and in the other the forearms sheathed in plate. John of Eltham, 1334, has a roundel on the elbow, with articulated plates beneath. In the Ifield effigy the arms are shown by Stothard completely sheathed, and with shoulder and elbow roundels bearing embossed lions’ heads. Plain roundels, rosettes, shells, or lion masks were worn on the shoulders, and articulated plates are seen between 1320 and 1350. The singular and exaggerated plates known as ailettes, picturesque objects which rose above the shoulders like epaulettes, were as useless apparently as the shoulder-knots of the present day. They first appear on the scene in the Windsor tournament, 1278, and disappear in the first quarter of the fourteenth century. They are of many shapes and sizes, and are well seen in our illustration (Fig. 10) from Queen Mary’s Psalter, in an elegant brass in Weaver’s Funeral Monuments, as well as in many others, and in several stained-glass windows. Usually they bear the armorial bearings of the owner, though those of Piers Gaveston, 1311, were “frettez de perles.”

Mail gloves continued to be worn, though with divided fingers, during the first part of the fourteenth century. The first effigy to show any change is that of a Whatton, engraved by Stothard, of the time of Edward II. Gloves of leather were sometimes worn between 1311 and 1360, as well as others of whalebone, metal studs and splintwork, iron scales and brass. Plate-armour gauntlets first appear towards the middle of the century with articulated fingers and a broad plate for the back of the hand and wrist; whilst a steel cuff, sometimes articulated, was shortly afterwards added. They are at times spiked, or with gads like knuckle-dusters, as in the case of the Black Prince, and frequently richly jewelled. The jewelled example given from the effigy of Sir Thomas Cawne, of the time of Edward III., is reproduced from Stothard’s drawing. The other is from the monument of the Earl of Westmoreland, of the first years of Henry VI. Gauntlets are constantly represented as gilt in MSS. of these periods.

The knight’s dress for war now consisted, in addition to any ordinary civilian underclothing, of a more or less complete suit of gambeson or quilted material, sometimes called the haketon, as in Chaucer’s Sir Thopas:—

The habergeon is the mail in this case, and the hauberk is of plate or splint armour, while the cote-armoure is the surcoat, possibly thickly padded, as in the still-existing surcoat of the Black Prince. In the mutilated effigy at Sandwich the thick quilted gambeson is distinctly seen at the knee and wrist underlying the mail, while the fine hauberk of plate overlies it, and the surcoat is worn over all. The effigy at Ash shows the plate armour, under the surcoat, fashioned in the curious armadillo-like Jazerant or brigandine form, with an upper gambeson under it, as well as the usual second gambeson under the mail. That two separate quilted defences were worn at this time is supported by the De Crell brass, 1325, the D’Abernon brass, 1327, and the Ifield and John of Eltham brasses, 1334. The colours of these various garments, the edges of which were allowed to show one above the other, were no doubt effectively contrasted, while the edges of the mail, as we have seen, were pinked, vandyked, or scalloped and gilt or finished with brass rings, while the plate-armour finishes most commonly in a fringe-like arrangement of small vertical plates.

The helmets were almost hidden by the large crests and the scarlet mantling, and the metal exposed was generally gilt. The trunk armour was concealed under the emblazoned surcoat or pourpoint; and when the thighs and legs are visible below this they are seen to be clothed over the mail by splinted or brigandine armour, showing velvet or satin externally attached by gilt or silver nails; the knee-caps and greaves are often richly moulded and probably cuir-bouilli, as seen in the statues on the front of Exeter Cathedral, and in the paintings from St. Stephen’s Chapel they are also shown as gilt. The arms and at times the hands are similarly clothed. The horse-armour was almost entirely concealed by rich caparisons, as in Chaucer’s Knightes Tale:—

The figures from the tomb of Edmund Crouchback and Aymer de Valence, engraved by Stothard, show the emblazoned housings of the time of Edward II. The equestrian figures in Queen Mary’s Psalter show that the fully-equipped knight of this period, when in full war panoply, was a gorgeous object, blazing in colours and gold, and exhibiting little to recall the stern realities of campaigns and sieges.

A few examples from inventories will best illustrate the colours and the magnificence of the materials used to conceal the steel. Humfrey de Bohun had breastplates covered with “vert velvet”; the Earl of March used “rouge samyt” and “drap d’or,” and others had “cendal vermeil, samit vermeil, zatony, veluyau asuré, veluyau vert ouvré de broderie,” etc. Piers Gaveston’s pair of breastplates were “enclouez et garnie d’argent od 4 cheynes d’argent covery d’un drap de velvet vermail besaunté d’or.” Two pairs of plates for the King of France required 3000 crescentic and 3000 round gilt nails to fix the velvet. Exposed pieces of armour were gilt, if not jewelled, pearls and carbuncles being the favourite gems. The baldric, knightly belt, sword-belt, hilt, and scabbard furnished a field for the goldsmith. The magnificence indulged in was often destructive to the wearers, who might have otherwise escaped in battle. They were “hunted for their hides,” or slain for the sake of their spoils.

The weight and fashion of the armour largely determined the tactics in war. The English appear at this time to have reverted to their ancient practice, once more dismounting to engage in battle. At Cressy the horses were sent to the rear, while the army, forming into battalions of archers supported by dismounted men-at-arms, took up its ground and waited the attack. The weight of armour carried by the men-at-arms made any forward movement on their part impossible on foot. By good fortune the 15,000 Genoese cross-bowmen, who might have inflicted severe loss on the English, were unable to use their bows, and the French coming up quite out of hand, charged and retreated as the spirit moved them, without deploying into any battle formation, and so fell into the utmost confusion, with the well-known results. Our archers “shot their arrows with such force and quickness that it seemed as if it snowed,” piercing the Genoese and dismounting the horsemen; upon which a body of 1000 Welsh foot with long knives advanced through the men-at-arms, who made way for them, and slew numbers of the French chivalry, so that the battle was “murderous and cruel.”

At Poitiers, 1356, the English similarly selected a strong position and awaited the attack dismounted. The French, uncertain how to meet the enemy, commenced by attacking with a mounted division, which was routed by the effect of the English arrows on the horses before getting to close quarters. Their retreat threw the second battalion, which also appears to have been mounted, into a confusion, which quickly developed into a panic. Deeming an advance necessary at this critical moment, the English men-at-arms sent to the rear for their horses and charged, completing the destruction and dispersal of all but the rear battalion. This was dismounted in order to fight on foot, and armed with sword and battle-axe presented a most stubborn front, under the king in person, numerous parties from the broken battalions rallying and dismounting to join in its advance. The English resumed the defensive and remained immovable, the archers plying their arrows with the usual effect. The only English force capable of movement and able to skirmish in the field was the archery, while the men-at-arms kept their ground or advanced very slowly in compact order, until, seeing the day won, they again mounted to complete the discomfiture and engage in pursuit.

At the battle of Auray, 1364, the French dismounted and fought on foot, when the arrows did little execution among them, and the fight developed into a hand-to-hand engagement with battle-axes, in which the leaders, Sir Oliver de Clisson and Sir John Chandos, greatly distinguished themselves. In all subsequent battles and skirmishes between French and English, until the close of the century, we find that both sides invariably fought on foot, riding up till almost within striking distance, and then dismounting as if by common consent. To advance any distance on foot after dismounting in order to engage was, in fact, almost impossible. The old knightly weapon, the lance, was in consequence almost discarded, and could now only be used effectively if shortened to about five feet, and thus with the shield fell into disuse as a weapon of battle, while the presence of artillery also began to make itself felt.

IV
The Age of Plate-Armour

Any line dividing what has here been termed a Transition Age from the age of fully-developed plate-armour must of necessity be a purely arbitrary one. Roughly speaking, the age of plate commenced when mail no longer formed the outer defence of any part of the body. The last chink, leaving the mail exposed under the armpit, was a vulnerable opening in the armour called the “vif de l’harnois,” or the “defaut de la cuirasse”; and even this now became protected by small plates of steel called gussets. The necessity for such defences was often proved in tournaments: it is related that the lance pierced “au vif de l’harnois” for lack of the crescent or “gouchet.” When these last plates were added the knights appeared more invulnerable than Achilles. We find at almost every period, however, that a fair blow delivered “au pas de charge” with a well-steeled lance might penetrate every defence; and that no armour could be made actually proof against downright blows from a two-handed battle-axe wielded by a powerful and expert rider.

One of the most marked characteristics of this age of plate-armour was a growing appreciation of the intrinsic beauty of steel, and a new desire to invest steel armour with graceful lines. The tendency is best exemplified in the fine Gothic armour of the second half of the fifteenth century, of which much is fortunately preserved. This combines most splendidly picturesque outlines with graceful fan or shell-like ridgings, which please the more when examined critically, since every curve and fluting serves some definite and practical end.