As civilization progressed, the rude customs of barbarous nations must have gradually sunk into disrepute; and war, which had once been a necessity in defence of person and property, now became only an honourable profession.
While we admit, with Scott, that the tenets of chivalry were exalted and enthusiastic, we cannot but consider that many acts of exaltation and enthusiasm, among the most illustrious, were little short of mental aberration, qualifying the heroic champion for the lunatic asylum, rather than the courts of sovereigns; and I think that we may consider many of our modern honourable institutions, which are traced to chivalry, more as the effect of gradual intellectual improvement than of the frolics of knight-errantry, however honourable they may have appeared in theory. No one can pretend to deny that Don Quixote’s ideas of honour were as correct as they were punctilious.
It is unfortunate that romance has so distorted human actions as to shed lustre upon deeds which ought to have been veiled in everlasting obscurity for the honour of mankind. It is owing to these fatal illusions, that, to the present hour, the chimerical word Honour leads the enthusiast or the slave of society’s prejudiced views to the commission of criminal acts, and adapts its supposed laws and dictates to the Procrustean standard of the “world’s” opinion.
Previous to the institution of chivalry, fighting became necessary for individual protection; but knighthood rendered it a fashionable accomplishment, and, as real injuries were not likely to occur every day, artificial grievances were created, and tilts and tournaments became the constant sports of the day. John, Duke of Bourbon, being overcome, no doubt, with ennui, offered to go over to England with sixteen knights, to avoid idleness, and further, to merit the good graces of his mistress; and it is clear that this noble institution, as it is called, greatly increased duelling instead of checking its barbarity, while, by rendering it a polite accomplishment, it has transmitted down to posterity a detestable heir-loom of barbarous times.
Not only were knights obliged to fight their own battles, but they were bound to espouse the disputes of others, and volunteer fighting whenever a “good quarrel” could be established.
It is to chivalry, introduced in the train of the Norman conquerors, that England owed its first degradation. Chivalry deluged Italy in blood, and rendered Spain a by-word of ferocity and madness. The desperate pranks of the lunatic Crusaders were the deeds of monomaniacs let loose by popery: Scott has truly said, that “the genius alike of the age and of the order tended to render the zeal of the professors of chivalry fierce, burning, and intolerant.” “If an infidel,” says a great authority, “impugn the doctrine of the Christian faith before a churchman, he should reply by argument; but a knight should render no other reason to the infidel than six inches of his falchion thrust into his accursed bowels.” The massacre of the Albigenses was one of the proud results of this noble institution!
Debased by superstition and priestcraft, knighthood became instrumental to every ambition, clerical or military: the hand of Heaven was seen guiding every gleaming falchion; the saints were seen hovering over the battle-field; and Froissart tells us that a black cur, which was always barking when the infidels approached the Christian camp, was called by the whole army the dog of Our Lady. If such were the public evils that arose from chivalric institutions, how much more fearful was their influence in society when we find Francis I, who certainly respected the faith of engagements as conveniently as expediency could dictate, laid down as a principle of honour, which prevails to this very day, That the lie was never to be put up with without satisfaction, but by a base-born fellow! For fear of any possible mistake, lies were divided into thirty-two categories, with their corresponding degree of satisfaction. In a succeeding chapter I shall endeavour to show that most edicts promulgated to check the practice of duelling rather increased it, and its gradual approach to desuetude can only be attributed to the influence of reason: until this influence obtains, all laws will be rendered nugatory by the established code of honour.
Nothing can be more absurd than the regret for the “glorious days of Chivalry!” It is very true, that nothing could be more beautiful and praiseworthy than the theory on which it was grounded; but a legislature might just as wisely sit down and embody an Utopian code of laws as to expect that a soldier will only draw his sword in the defence of innocence—it is too absurd a dream to be entertained even in romance.
The exact origin of chivalry is a matter of doubt. By some historians it is attributed to Henry I, King of Germany, in 936, called the “bird-catcher,” from his partiality to field pursuits. Others have traced it to Geoffrey de Preuilly, who died in 1066; but it appears that he was only celebrated from his having collected and published the laws of tournaments. History records a chivalric meeting that took place as early as 858, near Strasburgh, between Charles the Bald, and his brother, Louis of Germany. In France it was in general practice in 1136; and in Spain and England in 1140.
The rules and regulations in the management of these tournaments were curious, and showed that the profession of arms was supposed to be the proof of virtue as well as of courage. By these institutes it was ordered—
I. Whosoever has done or said anything against the holy Christian faith shall be excluded; and if any such shall presume to intrude himself, on the account of his family and ancient nobility, he shall be beaten and driven back.—This first article was proposed by the Emperor Henry I. himself.
II. If any, however nobly descended, have done or said anything against the Roman empire, or the sacred majesty of the Emperor, he shall not be admitted, but publicly punished before the assembly.—This article was proposed by Conrad, Prince of Palestine.
III. If any have betrayed or deserted his lord and master, or have been the occasion of any mutiny, disorder, or shameful flight in an army; or have oppressed and unjustly killed any of his subjects and vassals, or other innocent person, he shall be publicly punished.—Duke of Franconia.
IV. Whosoever has committed violence upon virgins or oppressed widows, or has violated and defamed any woman by word or deed, when he appears at the public tournament, shall be disgraced and punished.—Duke of Suevia.
V. Whosoever has been guilty of perjury, of forging hand or seal, or lies under any other infamy, shall be held unworthy of the honour of a tournament; and, if he enter, he shall not be suffered to go away without some punishment.—Duke of Bavaria.
VI. Whosoever has secretly or openly made away with his wife, or has advised or assisted the killing of his superior, whose vassal he was, let him be debarred, and let the law of tournament be executed upon him.
VII. Whoever have been guilty of sacrilege, by robbing churches or detaining what belongs to them, or have wronged widows and children to whom they were left guardians, shall not be admitted, but punished.
VIII. Whosoever keeps up an unreasonable feud with another, and will not refer the difference to law or to a fair battle, but invades his adversary’s land, burning and spoiling