The History of Chivalry

A Definition, with Remarks and Evidence-An Inquiry into the Origin of Chivalry-Various Opinions on the Subject-Reasons for doubting the great Antiquity of Chivalry properly so called-The State of Society which preceded it, and of that which gave it Birth-Its Origin and early Progress.

The first principles of whatever subject we may attempt to trace in history are ever obscure, but few are so entirely buried in darkness as the origin of Chivalry. This seems the more extraordinary, as we find the institution itself suddenly accompanied by regular and established forms, to which we can assign no precise date, and which appear to have been generally acknowledged before they were reduced to any written code.

Although definitions are dangerous things-inasmuch as the ambiguity of language rarely permits of perfect accuracy, except in matters of abstract science-it is better, as far as possible, on all subjects of discussion, to venture some clear and decided position, that the subsequent reasoning may be fixed upon a distinct and unchanging basis.

If the position itself be wrong, it may be the more speedily proved so from the very circumstance of standing forth singly, uninvolved in a labyrinth of other matter; and if it be right, the arguments that follow may always be more easily traced, and afford greater satisfaction by being deduced from a principle already determined. These considerations lead me to offer a definition of Chivalry, together with some remarks calculated to guard that definition from the consequences of misapprehension on the part of others, or of obscurity on my own.

When I speak of Chivalry I mean a military institution, prompted by enthusiastic benevolence, sanctioned by religion, and combined with religious ceremonies, the purpose of which was to protect the weak from the oppression of the powerful, and to defend the right cause against the wrong.

Its military character requires no proof; but various mistaken opinions, which I shall notice hereafter, render it necessary to establish the fact, that religious ceremonies of some kind were always combined with the institutions of Chivalry.

All those written laws and regulations affecting knighthood,[1] which were composed subsequent to its having taken an acknowledged form, prescribed, in the strictest manner, various points of religious ceremonial, which the aspirant to Chivalry was required to perform before he could be admitted into that high order.

What preceded the regular recognition of Chivalry as an institution is entirely traditional; yet in all the old romances, fabliaux, sirventes, ballads, &c. not one instance is to be found in which a squire becomes a knight, without some reference to his religious faith. If he be dubbed in the battle-field, he swears to defend the right, and maintain all the statutes of the noble order of Chivalry, upon the cross of his sword; he calls heaven to witness his vow, and the saints to help him in its execution. Even in one of the most absurd fables[2] of the chivalrous ages, wherein we find Saladin himself receiving the order of Chivalry from the hands of the Count de Tabarie, that nobleman causes the infidel sultan to be shaved, and to bathe as a symbol of baptism, and then to rest himself upon a perfumed bed, as a type of the repose and joy of Paradise. These tales are all fictitious, it is true; and few of them date earlier than the end of the twelfth century: but at the same time, as they universally ascribe religious ceremonies to the order of knighthood, we have every reason to suppose that such ceremonies formed a fundamental part of the institution.

Before proceeding to inquire into the origin of Chivalry, I must be permitted to make one more observation in regard to my definition; namely, that there was a great and individual character in that order, which no definition can fully convey. I mean the Spirit of Chivalry; for, indeed, it was more a spirit than an institution; and the outward forms with which it soon became invested, were only, in truth, the signs by which it was conventionally agreed that those persons who had proved in their initiate they possessed the spirit, should be distinguished from the other classes of society. The ceremonial was merely the public declaration, that he on whom the order was conferred was worthy to exercise the powers with which it invested him; but still, the spirit was the Chivalry.

In seeking the source of this order through the dark mazes of the history of modern Europe, it appears to me that many writers have mistaken the track; and, by looking for the mere external signs, have been led into ages infinitely prior to the spirit of Chivalry.

Some have supposed that the institution descended to more modern times, from the equestrian order of the ancient Romans; but the absence of all but mere nominal resemblance between the two, has long placed this theory in the dusty catalogue of historical dreams.

Others again have imagined that the Franks, and the rest of the German nations, who, on the fall of the Roman empire, subdued and divided Gaul, brought with them the seeds of Chivalry, which spontaneously grew up into that extraordinary plant which has flourished but once in the annals of the world. This opinion they support by citing the customs of the German tribes[3] who, not only at particular periods invested their youth with the shield and the javelin, but also (especially towards the period of the conquest of Gaul) chose from the bravest of the tribe a number of warriors, to be the companions and guards of the chief. These were termed Leudes, and we find them often mentioned under the whole of the first race of French kings. They served on horseback, while the greater part of each German nation fought on foot only; and they were bound to the chief by an oath of fidelity.[4] The reception of an aspirant into the body of Leudes was also marked with various ceremonies; but in this, if we examine correctly, we find neither the spirit nor the forms of Chivalry. The oath of the Frank was one of service to his prince; that of the knight, to his God and to society: the one promised to defend his leader; the other to protect the oppressed, and to uphold the right. The Leudes were in fact the nobility of the German tribes, though that nobility was not hereditary; but they were in no respect similar to the knights of an after-age, except in the circumstance of fighting on horseback.

A third opinion supposes the origin of Chivalry to be found among the ancient warlike tribes of Northmen, or Normans, who, towards the ninth century, invaded in large bodies the southern parts of Europe, and established themselves principally in France; and certainly, both in their traditions, and even in their actions, as recorded by Abbon, an eyewitness to their deeds in the siege of Paris, there is to be found an energetic and romantic spirit, not unlike that which animated Chivalry at the rudest period of its existence. Still, there is much wanting. The great object of Chivalry, the defence of the weak, was absent, as well as every form and ceremony. The object of the Northman's courage was plunder; and all that he had in common with the knight was valour, contempt of death, and a touch of savage generosity, that threw but a feint light over his dark and stormy barbarities.

Many persons again have attributed the foundation of all the chivalrous institutions of Europe to the bright and magnificent reign of Charlemagne; and as this opinion has met with much support, among even the learned, it is worth while more particularly to inquire upon what basis it is raised. Of the reign of Charlemagne we have not so many authentic accounts as we have romances, founded upon the fame of that illustrious monarch. Towards the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, when Chivalry was in its imaginative youth, a thousand tales of wild adventure were produced, in which Charlemagne and his warriors were represented with all the qualities and attributes of those knights, whose virtues and courage had by that time wrought deeply on the heart and fancy of the people. We should be as much justified, however, in believing that Virgil was a celebrated necromancer, or that Hercules was a Preux Chevalier-characters which have been assigned to them by the very same class of fables-as in giving any credit to the distorted representations that those romances afford of the days of Charlemagne.

In regard to the tales of King Arthur, I am perfectly inclined to use the energetic words of Menestrier, who, in speaking of the famous knights of the round table, says, without hesitation, "All that they tell of King Arthur and that fictitious Chivalry of which they represent him as the author, is nothing but a lie;"[5] for, though beyond all doubt the romances of Chivalry afford a great insight into the manners of the times wherein they were written, they are, nevertheless, quite worthless as authority concerning the ages which they pretend to display, and which had preceded their composition by nearly three centuries.

After rejecting the evidences of such tales, we find nothing in the authentic records of Charlemagne which gives the slightest reason to suppose that Chivalry was known, even in its most infant state, during his reign. Though his great system of warfare had that in common with Chivalry which all warfare must have-feats of daring courage, heroic valour, bursts of feeling and magnanimity, and as much of the sublime as mighty ambition, guided by mighty genius, and elevated by a noble object can achieve-yet the government of Charlemagne was, in fact, any thing but a chivalrous government. Too powerful a hand held the reins of state for Chivalry either to have been necessary or permitted; and in reading the annals of Eginhard, his life of Charlemagne, or the account, given by the monk of St. Gall, we find a completely different character from that which is visible in every page of the history of the knightly ages. We find, indeed, that Charlemagne, according to the immemorial custom of his German[6] ancestors, solemnly invested his son Lewis with the arms of a man. A thousand years before, in the forests of the North, his predecessors had done the same: and Charlemagne, one of whose great objects ever was, to preserve both the habits and the language of the original country[7] free from amalgamation with those of the conquered nations, not only set the example of publicly receiving his son into the ranks of manhood and warfare, but strictly enjoined that the same should be done by his various governors in the provinces. But this custom of the Franks, as I have before attempted to show, had no earthly relation to knighthood. Were nothing else a proof that Chivalry was perfectly unknown in the days of Charlemagne, it would be sufficient that the famous capitularies of that monarch, which regulate every thing that can fall under the eye of the law, even to the details of private life, make no mention whatever of an institution which afterward exercised so great an influence on the fate of Europe. Nor can we trace in the annals of the surrounding countries, a mark of Chivalry having been known at that period to any other nation more than to the Franks. Alfred, it is true, invested Athelstan with a purple garment and a sword; but the Saxons were from Germany as well as the Franks, and no reason exists for supposing that this ceremony was in any degree connected with the institutions of Chivalry. There have been persons, indeed, who supposed that Pharaoh conferred knighthood upon Joseph, when he bestowed upon him the ring and the golden chain, and probably the Egyptian king had fully as much knowledge of the institution of Chivalry as either Charlemagne or Alfred.

Of the annals that follow the period of Charlemagne, those of Nithard, Hincmar, and Thegan, together with those called the Annals of St. Bertinus and of Metz, are the most worthy of credit; and in these, though we often meet with the word miles, which was afterward the name bestowed upon a knight, it is used simply in the signification of a soldier, or one of the military race.[8] No mention whatever is made of any thing that can fairly be looked upon as chivalrous, either in feeling or institution. All is a series of dark conflicts and bloodthirsty contentions, among which the sprouts of the feudal system, yet young and unformed, are seen springing up from seeds sown long before. In the picture of those times, a double darkness seemed to cover the earth, which, a chaos of unruly passions, showed no one general institution for the benefit of mankind except the Christian religion: and that, overwhelmed by foul superstitions and guarded chiefly by barbarous, ignorant, selfish, and disorderly priests, lay like a treasure hidden by a miser, and watched by men that had not soul to use it. This was no age of knighthood.

Up to this period, then, I fully believe that Chivalry did not exist; and having attempted to show upon some better ground than mere assertion, that the theories which assign to it an earlier origin are wrong, I will now give my own view of its rise, which possibly may be as erroneous as the rest.

Charlemagne expired like a meteor that, having broken suddenly upon the night of ages, and blazed brilliantly over a whole world for a brief space, fell and left all in darkness, even deeper than before. His dominions divided into petty kingdoms-his successors waging long and inveterate wars against each other-the nations he had subdued shaking off the yoke-the enemies he had conquered avenging themselves upon his descendants-the laws he had established forgotten or annulled-the union he had cemented scattered to the wind-in a lamentably brief space of time, the bright order which his great mind had established throughout Europe was dissolved. Each individual, who, either by corporeal strength, advantageous position, wealth, or habit, could influence the minds of others, snatched at that portion of the divided empire which lay nearest to his means, and claimed that power as a gift which had only been intrusted as a loan. The custom of holding lands by military service had come down to the French from their German ancestors, and the dukes, the marquises, the counts, as well as a whole herd of inferior officers, who in former days had led the armies, or commanded in the provinces as servants of the crown, now arrogated to themselves hereditary rights in the charges to which they had been intrusted; and, in their own behalf, claimed the feudal service of those soldiers to whom lands had been granted, instead of preserving their allegiance for their sovereigns. The weak monarchs, who still retained the name of kings, engaged in ruinous wars with each other and in vain attempts to repel the invasions of the Northmen or Normans, first tolerated these encroachments, because they had at the time no power of resisting, and then gradually recognised them as rights, upon the condition that those who committed them should assist the sovereign in his wars, and acknowledge his title in preference to that of any of his competitors.

Thus gradually rose the feudal system from the wrecks of Charlemagne's great empire. But still all was unstable and unconfirmed; the limits of the different powers in the state undecided and variable, till the war of Paris, the incompetence of the successors of Charlemagne, and the elevation of Hugues Capet, the Count of Paris, to the throne, showed the barons the power they had acquired, and crowned the feudal compact by the creation of a king whose title was found in it alone.

Great confusion, however, existed still. The authority of the sovereign extended but a few leagues round the city of Paris; the Normans ravaged the coast; the powerful and the wicked had no restraint imposed upon their actions, and the weak were every where oppressed and wronged. Bands of plunderers raged through the whole of France and Germany, property was held by the sword, cruelty and injustice reigned alone, and the whole history of that age offers a complete medley of massacre, bloodshed, torture, crime, and misery.

Personal courage, however, had been raised to the highest pitch by the very absence of every thing like security. Valour was a necessity and a habit, and Eudes and his companions, who defended Paris against the Normans, would have come down as demigods to the present day, if they had but possessed a Homer to sing their deeds. The very Normans themselves, with their wild enthusiasm and supernatural daring, their poetical traditions, and magnificent superstitions, seemed to bring a new and extraordinary light into the very lands they desolated. The plains teemed with murder, and the rivers flowed with blood; but the world was weary of barbarity, and a reacting spirit of order was born from the very bosom of confusion.

It was then that some poor nobles, probably suffering themselves from the oppression of more powerful lords, but at the same time touched with sincere compassion for the wretchedness they saw around them, first leagued together with the holy purpose of redressing wrongs and defending the weak.[9] They gave their hands to one another in pledge that they would not turn back from the work, and called upon St. George to bless their righteous cause. The church readily yielded its sanction to an institution so noble, aided it with prayers, and sanctified it with a solemn blessing. Religious enthusiasm became added to noble indignation and charitable zeal; and the spirit of Chivalry, like the flame struck forth from the hard steel and the dull flint, was kindled into sudden light by the savage cruelty of the nobles, and the heavy barbarity of the people.

The spirit spread rapidly, and the adoration of the populace, who almost deified their heroic defenders, gave both fresh vigour and purity to the design. Every moral virtue became a part of knightly honour, and the men whose hands were ever ready to draw the sword in defence of innocence-who in their own conduct set the most brilliant example-whose sole object was the establishment of right, and over whom no earthly fear or interested consideration held sway, were readily recognised as judges, and appealed to as arbitrators. Public opinion raised them above all other men, even above kings themselves; so much so, indeed, that we find continually repeated, in the writings of the chivalrous ages, such passages as the following:-

Chevaliers sont de moult grant pris,

Ils ont de tous gens le pris,

Et le los et le seignorie.

Thus gradually Chivalry became no longer a simple engagement between a few generous and valiant men, but took the form of a great and powerful institution; and as each knight had the right of creating others without limit, it became necessary that the new class thus established in society should be distinguished by particular signs and symbols, which would guard it against the intrusion of unworthy or disgraceful members.

The time at which fixed regulations first distinguished Chivalry from every other order in the state cannot be precisely determined; certainly it was not before the eleventh century. Then, however, it is probable, that this was done more from a general sense of its necessity, and by slow and irregular degrees, than by any one law or agreement. Every thing in that age was confusion, and though the spirit of Chivalry had for its great object the restoration of order, it is not likely that its own primary efforts should be very regular, amid a chaos of contending interests and unbridled passions, which rendered general communication or association difficult, if not impossible. Each knight, in admitting another to the noble order of which he himself was a member, probably added some little formality, as he thought fit, till the mass of these customs collected by tradition formed the body of their ceremonial law.

The first point required of the aspirants to Chivalry, in its earliest state, was certainly a solemn vow, "To speak the truth, to succour the helpless and oppressed, and never to turn back from an enemy."[10]

This vow, combined with the solemn appeal to Heaven in witness thereof, was the foundation of Chivalry; but, at the same time, we find, that in all ages, only one class of people was eligible to furnish members to the institution; namely, the military class, or, in other words, the northern conquerors of the soil; for, with very few exceptions, the original inhabitants of Europe had been reduced to the condition of serfs, or slaves of the glebe. Some few, indeed, had held out till they forced the invaders to permit their being incorporated with themselves upon more equal terms; but this was very rare, and the race rustique, as it was called, though it furnished archers to the armies, was kept distinct from the military race by many a galling difference. This lower race, then, could not be invested with the honours of Chivalry; and one of the first provisions we find in any written form, respecting the institution of knighthood, is designed to mark this more particularly. Ad militarem honorem nullus accedat qui non sit de genere militum, says a decree of the twelfth century. We may therefore conclude that this was the first requisite, and the vow the first formality of Chivalry.

It is more than probable that the ceremony next in historical order, attached to the admission of an aspirant into the ranks of knighthood, was that of publicly arming him with the weapons he was to use, in pursuance of his vow. This is likely, from many circumstances. In the first place, to arm him for the cause was naturally the next preceding to his vowing himself to that cause, and also by his receiving those arms in the face of the public, the new defender that the people had gained became known to the people, and thus no one would falsely pretend to the character of a knight without risking detection. In the second place, as I have before said, the arming of the German youth had been from the earliest ages, like the delivery of the virile robe to young Romans, an occasion of public solemnity; and it was therefore natural that it should be soon incorporated with the ceremonial of the new military institution which now took the lead of all others.

The church of course added her part to secure reverence for an order which was so well calculated to promote all the objects of religion, and vigils, fasts, and prayers speedily became a part of the initiation to knighthood. Power is ever followed by splendour and display; but to use the energetic words of a learned and talented writer of the present day,[11] the knights for long after the first institution of Chivalry, were "simple in their clothing, austere in their morals, humble after victory, firm under misfortune."

In France, I believe, the order first took its rise; and, probably, the disgust felt by some pure minds at the gross and barbarous licentiousness of the times, infused that virtuous severity into the institutions of Chivalry which was in itself a glory. If we may give the least credit to the picture of the immorality and luxury of the French, as drawn by Abbon in his poem on the siege of Paris, no words will be found sufficient to express our admiration for the men who first undertook to combat not only the tyranny but the vices of their age; who singly went forth to war against crime, injustice, and cruelty who defied the whole world in defence of innocence, virtue, and truth; who stemmed the torrent of barbarity and evil; and who, from the wrecks of ages, and the ruins of empires, drew out a thousand jewels to glitter in the star that shone upon the breast of knighthood.

For long the Christian religion had struggled alone, a great but shaded light through the storms of dark and barbarous ages. Till Chivalry arose there was nothing to uphold it; but from that moment, with a champion in the field to lead forth the knowledge that had been imprisoned in the cloister, the influence of religion began to spread and increase. Though worldly men thereunto attached the aggrandizement of their own temporal power, and knaves and villains made it the means of their avarice, or the cloak of their vice, still the influence of the divine truth itself gradually wrought upon the hearts of men, purifying, calming, refining, till the world grew wise enough to separate the perfection of the Gospel from the weakness of its teachers, and to reject the errors while they restrained the power of the Roman church.

In the mean time Chivalry stood forth the most glorious institution that man himself ever devised. In its youth and in its simplicity, it appeared grand and beautiful, both from its own intrinsic excellence, and from its contrast with the things around. In its after-years it acquired pomp and luxury; and to pomp and luxury naturally succeeded decay and death; but still the legacy that it left behind it to posterity was a treasure of noble feelings and generous principles.

There cannot be a doubt that Chivalry, more than any other institution (except religion) aided to work out the civilization of Europe. It first taught devotion and reverence to those weak, fair beings, who but in their beauty and their gentleness have no defence. It first raised love above the passions of the brute, and by dignifying woman, made woman worthy of love. It gave purity to enthusiasm, crushed barbarous selfishness, taught the heart to expand like a flower to the sunshine, beautified glory with generosity, and smoothed even the rugged brow of war.

For the mind, as far as knowledge went, Chivalry itself did little; but by its influence it did much. For the heart it did every thing; and there is scarcely a noble feeling or a bright aspiration that we find among ourselves, or trace in the history of modern Europe, that is not in some degree referable to that great and noble principle, which has no name but the Spirit of Chivalry.

* * *

Of Chivalrous Customs-Education-Grades-Services on the Reception of a Knight-On Tournaments-Jousts-Combats at Outrance-Passages of Arms-The Round Table-Privileges of Knighthood-Duties of Knighthood.

Although the customs which I am about to detail at once grew gradually up under the various circumstances of different centuries, and were for the most part unknown to the infancy of Chivalry, I think it right to notice here the principal peculiarities of the institution, rather than to interrupt the course of my narrative afterward, when the history of knighthood may be traced continuously down to its final extinction.

We have already seen that each individual member of the order possessed the power of admitting any other person to its honours without restraint; but it did not by any means follow that all previous trial and education was dispensed with. Very soon after the first institution of Chivalry every one became covetous of the distinction, and it naturally followed that the object of each boy's aspirations, the aim of every young man's ambition, was one day to be a knight. Those, however, who had already received the order, were scrupulously careful to admit none within its fellowship who might disgrace the sword that dubbed them; and knighthood gradually became as much the reward of a long and tedious education, as the bonnet of the doctor or the stole of the clerk.

The feudal system had now reached its acme; and each individual lord, within his own domain, assumed the state and importance of a prince. With the vain spirit of ostentatious imitation which unhappily is common to all climes and all centuries, the great feudatories of the crown copied the household of the sovereign, and the petty barons imitated them. Each had his crowd of officers, and squires, and pages, and varlets. Even the monasteries and the abbeys affected the same pomp and ceremonial, so that we find the abbot of St. Denis riding[12] forth accompanied by his chamberlain and marshal, whose offices were held as feoffs.

The manor or the castle of each feudal chieftain, however, soon became the school of Chivalry, and any noble youth whose parents were either dead or too poor to educate him to the art of war was willingly received in the dwelling of a neighbouring baron, who took care that his pupil should be instructed in all military exercises, glad to attach to his own person as large a body of armed retainers as his circumstances would permit.

Till they reached the age of seven years the youths, afterward destined to arms, were left to the care of the females of the household, who taught them the first principles of religion and of Chivalry. They were then in general sent from home, those fathers even, who possessed the means of conducting their education themselves, preferring to intrust it to some other noble knight who could be biassed[13] by no parental tenderness to spare the young aspirant to Chivalry any of those trials and hardships absolutely necessary to prepare him for his after-career.

On entering the household of another knight, the first place filled by the youths, then fresh from all the soft kindnesses of home, was that of page or varlet, which, though it implied every sort of attendance on the person of their new lord, was held as honourable, not degrading.

Here they still remained[14] much among the women of the family, who undertook to complete their knowledge of their duty to God and their lady, instilling into their infant minds that refined and mystic idea of love, which was so peculiar a trait in the Chivalry of old. In the mean while the rest of their days were passed in the service of their lord, accompanying him in his excursions, serving him at table, pouring out his drink; all of which offices being shared in by the children and young relations of the baron himself,[15] were reckoned, as I have said, highly honourable, and formed the first step in the ascent to Chivalry.

At the same time infinite pains were bestowed upon the education of these pages. They were taught all sorts of gymnastic exercises which could strengthen the body; and, by continually mingling with the guests of the castle, receiving them on their arrival, offering them every sort of service, and listening respectfully to the conversation of their elders, they acquired that peculiar grace of manner which, under the name of courtesy, formed a principal perfection in the character of the true knight.

At fourteen the page was usually admitted to the higher grade of squire, and exchanged his short dagger for the manly sword. This, however, was made a religious ceremony; and the weapon which he was in future to wear was laid upon the altar, from whence it was taken by the priest,[16] and after several benedictions, was hung over the shoulder of the new squire, with many a sage caution and instruction as to its use.

His exercises now became more robust than they had ever been before; and, if we are to believe the old biographer of the celebrated Boucicaut, they were far more fatiguing than any man of the present age could endure. To spring upon horseback armed at all pieces, without putting a foot in the stirrup; to cast somersets in heavy armour[17] for the purpose of strengthening the arms; to leap upon the shoulders of a horseman from behind, without other hold than one hand laid upon his shoulder-such, and many others, were the daily exercises of the young noble, besides regular instruction in riding and managing his arms. Though it would seem at first that few constitutions could undergo for any length of time such violent exertions, we must remember the effects produced-we must call to mind that these very men in their after-life, are found bearing a weight, that few persons of the present times could lift, through the heat of a whole summer's day, under the burning sun of Palestine. We must remember the mighty feats of strength that these men performed; and, when we see a Boemond fighting from noon to sunset cased from head to foot in thick iron, or in long after-days a Guise swimming against a torrent armed cap-a-pie, we must naturally conclude that no ordinary course of training could produce such vigour and hardihood.

Several degrees of squires or esquires are mentioned in the ancient chronicles; and it is difficult to distinguish which class included the young noble-which was filled by an inferior race. That there was a distinction is evident; for in the life of Bayard[18] we find an old squire mentioned more than once, from whom he received instructions, but who never appears to have aspired to any higher degree. Nevertheless it is equally certain that many services which we should consider menial, were performed by the squires of the highest race about the persons of their lords. Nor was this confined to what might be considered military services; for we learn that they not only held the stirrup for their lord to mount, and then followed, carrying his helm, his lance, his shield, or his gauntlets; but they continued to serve him at table, to clean his armour, to dress his horses, and to fulfil a thousand other avocations, in which they were aided, it is true, by the gros varlets or common servants, but which they still had their share in accomplishing with their own hands.[19] The highest class of esquires, however, was evidently the écuyer d'honneur, who, from the manner of Froissart's mention of many at the court of the Count de Foix, appears to have had in charge the reception and entertainment of guests and strangers.

The squires of course had often more important duties to perform. It was for them to follow their lords to the battle-field; and, while the knights, formed in a long line, fought hand to hand against their equals, the squires remained watching eagerly the conflict, and ready to drag their master from the mêlée, to cover him if he fell, to supply him with fresh arms, and, in short, to lend him every aid; without, however, presuming to take an active part against the adverse knights, with whose class it was forbidden for a squire to engage.

St. Palaye limits to these defensive operations the services of the squires in the field of battle,[20] and it is possible that the strict laws of Chivalry might justify such a restriction. Nevertheless there can be no earthly doubt that they were often much more actively engaged, even in the purest days of Chivalry. In all the wars between Richard C?ur de Lion and Philip Augustus,[21] we find them often fighting bravely; and at the battle of Bovine, a squire had nearly taken the life of the famous Count de Boulogne.

These services in the field perfected the aspirant to Chivalry in the knowledge of his profession; and the trials of skill which, on the day that preceded a tournament, were permitted to squires, in the lists, gave him an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the eyes of the people, and of gaining a name among the heralds and chroniclers of knightly deeds.

If a noble squire had conducted himself well during the period of his service, it seldom occurred that his lord refused to bestow upon him the honour of knighthood at the age of twenty-one; and sometimes, if he had been distinguished by any great or gallant feat, or by uniform talent and courage,[22] he was admitted into the order before he had reached that age. This, nevertheless, was rare, except in the case of sovereign princes; and, on the contrary, it occasionally happened that a knight who did not choose to part so soon with a favourite squire would delay on various pretences a ceremony which almost always caused some separation between the young knight and his ancient master.[23]

The squire, however, had always the right to claim the knighthood from the hand of another, if his lord unjustly refused to bestow it; and that high sense of honour which was their great characteristic prevented the knights thus applied to from ever refusing, when the aspirant was fully justified in his claim.

The times chosen for conferring knighthood were generally either those of great military ceremony,[24] as after tournaments, cours plénières, the muster or monstre, as it was called, of the army, or on days consecrated by the church to some peculiar solemnity, as Easter-day, the day of Pentecost, or even Christmas-day.[25]

This was, nevertheless, by no means imperative; for we have already seen that knighthood was often conferred on any particular emergency, and even on the field of battle.[26] On these occasions the forms were of course abridged to suit the necessity of the case, but the knighthood was not the less valid or esteemed.

The more public and solemn the ceremony could be made, the more it appeared to the taste of the nobles of the middle ages. Nor was the pomp and display without its use, raising and dignifying the order in the eyes of the people, and impressing deeply upon the mind of the young knight the duties which he had voluntarily taken upon himself. We all know how much remembrance depends upon external circumstance, and it is ever well to give our feelings some fixed resting-place in the waste of life, that in after-years memory may lead us back and refresh the resolutions and bright designs of youth by the aid of the striking scenes and solemn moments in which those designs and resolutions were first called into activity. Nothing could be better calculated to make a profound impression on the mind than the ceremonies of a knight's reception in the mature times of Chivalry.

On the day appointed,[27] all the knights and nobles at that time in the city where the solemnity was to be performed, with the bishops and clergy, each covered with the appropriate vestments of his order, the knight in his coat-of-arms, and the bishop in his stole, conducted the aspirant to the principal church of the place. There, after the high mass had been chanted, the novice approached the altar and presented the sword to the bishop or priest, who, taking it from his hand, blessed and consecrated it to the service of religion and virtue.

It often happened that the bishop himself then solemnly warned the youth of the difficulties and requisites of the order to which he aspired. "He who seeks to be a knight,"-said the Bishop of Valenciennes to the young Count of Ostrevant on one of these occasions,[28] "he who wishes to be a knight should have great qualities. He must be of noble birth, liberal in gifts, high in courage, strong in danger, secret in council, patient in difficulties, powerful against enemies, prudent in his deeds. He must also swear to observe the following rules: To undertake nothing without having heard mass fasting; to spare neither his blood nor his life in defence of the Catholic faith; to give aid to all widows and orphans; to undertake no war without just cause; to favour no injustice, but to protect the innocent and oppressed; to be humble in all things; to seek the welfare of those placed under him; never to violate the rights of his sovereign, and to live irreprehensibly before God and man."

The bishop, then taking his joined hands in his own, placed them on the missal, and received his oath to follow the statutes laid down to him, after which his father advancing dubbed him a knight.

At other times it occurred, that when the sword had been blessed, the novice[29] carried it to the knight who was to be his godfather in Chivalry, and kneeling before him plighted his vow to him. After this the other knights, and often the ladies present, advanced, and completely armed the youth, sometimes beginning with one piece of the armour, sometimes another. St. Palaye declares that the spurs were always buckled on before the rest, but in the history of Geoffrey, Duke of Normandy, we find the corslet and the greaves mentioned first, and the spear and sword last.

After having been armed, the novice still remained upon his knees before his godfather in arms, who then, rising from his seat, bestowed upon him the accolade, as it was called, which consisted generally of three blows of the naked sword upon the neck or shoulder. Sometimes it was performed by a blow given with the palm of the hand upon the cheek of the novice, which was always accompanied by some words, signifying that the ceremony was complete, and the squire had now become a knight.

The words which accompanied the accolade were generally, when the kings of France bestowed the honour, "In the name of God, St. Michael, and St. George, I make thee knight; be loyal, bold, and true."

Sometimes to the blow were joined the words,[30] "Bear this blow and never bear another," and sometimes was added the more Christian admonition to humility, "Remember that the Saviour of the world was buffeted and scoffed."[31]

Whatever was its origin the custom was a curious one, and bore a strong resemblance to the ceremony of manumission among the Romans, who, on freeing a slave, struck him a slight blow, which Claudian happily enough terms felicem injuriam. I do not, however, intend to insinuate that the one custom was derived from the other, though, perhaps, the fact of a serf becoming free if his lord struck him with any instrument,[32] except such as were employed in his actual labour, may have been, in some degree, a vestige of the Roman law in this respect, which we know descended entire to many of the barbarous nations.

However that may be, after having submitted to the blow which ended his servitude as a squire, the new knight was decorated with his casque, which had hitherto been held beside him, and then proceeding to the door of the church, or of the castle, where his knighthood had been bestowed, he sprang upon his horse and showed himself armed in the principal places of the city, while the heralds proclaimed his name and vaunted his prowess.[33]

As long vigils, fast, prayers, and confessions had preceded and accompanied the admission of the new knight, festivals, banquets, and tournaments followed.[34] The banquets and the festivals, as common to all ages, though differing in each, I will pass over: suffice it, that one of the strictest laws of Chivalry forbade gluttony and intemperance.

The tournament, as a purely chivalrous institution, I must mention; though so much has been already written on the subject, that I could have wished to pass it over in silence. The most complete description ever given of a tournament is to be found in the writings of one whose words are pictures; and if I dared but copy into this place the account of the passage of arms in Ivanhoe, I should be enabled to give a far better idea of what such a scene really was, than all the antiquarian researches in my power will afford.

All military nations, from the earliest antiquity, have known and practised various athletic games in imitation of warfare; and we of course find among the Franks various exercises of the kind from the very first records which we have of that people. Nithard,[35] however, gives an elaborate picture of these mock-fights as practised in the reigns succeeding Charlemagne; and we find but little resemblance to the tournament. Four equal bands of Saxons, Gascons, Austrasians, and Armoricans (or Britons,[36] as they are there called) met together in an open place, and, while the populace stood round as spectators, pursued each other, in turn, brandishing their arms, and seeming fiercely to seek the destruction of their adversaries. When this had proceeded for some time, Louis and Charles (the two monarchs in whose history the description is given) suddenly rushed into the field with all their choice companions, and, with quivering lances and loud cries, followed, now one, now another, of the parties, who took care to fly before their horses.

The first authentic mention of a tournament[37] is to be found in the Chronicle of Tours, which records the death of Geoffrey de Priuli in 1066; adding the words qui torneamenta invenit-who invented tournaments. From the appearance[38] of these exercises in Germany[39] about the same time, we may conclude that this date is pretty nearly correct; and that if tournaments were not absolutely invented at that precise period, they were then first regulated by distinct laws.

In England[40] they did not appear till several years later, when the Norman manners introduced after the conquest had completely superseded the customs of the Saxons.

Thus much has seemed necessary to me to say concerning the origin of tournaments, as there are so many common fables on the subject which give far greater antiquity to the exercise than that which it is entitled to claim.

The ceremonies and the splendour of the tournament of course differed in different ages and different countries; but the general principle was the same. It was a chivalrous game, originally instituted for practising those exercises, and acquiring that skill which was likely to be useful in knightly warfare.

A tournament was usually given upon the occasion of any great meeting, for either military or political purposes. Sometimes it was the king himself who sent his heralds through the land to announce to all noblemen and ladies, that on a certain day he would hold a grand tournament, where all brave knights might try their prowess. At other times a tournament was determined on by a body of independent knights; and messengers were often sent into distant countries to invite all gallant gentlemen to honour the passage of arms.

The spot fixed upon for the lists was usually in the immediate neighbourhood of some abbey or castle, where the shields of the various[41] cavaliers who purposed combating were exposed to view for several days previous to the meeting. A herald was also placed beneath the cloisters to answer all questions concerning the champions, and to receive all complaints against any individual knight. If, upon investigation, the kings of arms and judges of the field found that a just accusation was laid against one[42] of the knights proposing to appear, a peremptory command excluded him from the lists; and if he dared in despite thereof to present himself, he was driven forth with blows and ignominy.

Round about the field appointed for the spectacle were raised galleries, scaffoldings, tents,[43] and pavilions, decorated with all the magnificence of a luxurious age. Banners and scutcheons, and bandrols, silks and cloth of gold, covered the galleries and floated round the field; while all that rich garments and precious stones, beauty and youth, could do to outshine the inanimate part of the scene, was to be found among the spectators. Here too was seen the venerable age of Chivalry-all those old knights whose limbs were no longer competent to bear the weight of arms, surrounding the field to view the prowess of their children and judge the deeds of the day. Heralds and pursuivants, in the gay and many-coloured garments which they peculiarly affected, fluttered over the field, and bands of warlike music were stationed near to animate the contest and to salute the victors.

The knights, as they appeared in the lists, were greeted by the heralds and the people[44] according to their renown; but the approbation of the female part of the spectators was the great stimulus to all the Chivalry of the field. Each knight, as a part of his duty, either felt or feigned himself in love; and it was upon these occasions that his lady might descend from the high state to which the mystic adoration of the day had raised her, and bestow upon her favoured champion a glove, a riband, a bracelet,[45] a jewel, which, borne on his crest through the hard-contested field, was the chief object of his care, and the great excitement to his valour.

Often, too, in the midst of the combat, if accident or misfortune deprived the favoured knight of the gage of his lady's affection, her admiration or her pity won her to supply another token, sent by a page or squire, to raise again her lover's resolution, and animate him to new exertions.

The old romance of Perce-forest gives a curious picture of the effects visible after a tournament, by the eagerness with which the fair spectators had encouraged the knights. "At the close of the tournament," says the writer, "the ladies were so stripped of their ornaments, that the greater part of them were bareheaded. Thus they went their ways with their hair floating on their shoulders more glossy than fine gold; and with their robes without the sleeves, for they had given to the knights to decorate themselves, wimples and hoods, mantles and shifts, sleeves and bodies. When they found themselves undressed to such a pitch, they were at first quite ashamed; but as soon as they saw every one was in the same state, they began to laugh at the whole adventure, for they had all bestowed their jewels and their clothes upon the knights with so good a will, that they had not perceived that they uncovered themselves."

This is probably an exaggerated account of the enthusiasm which the events of a tournament excited in the bosom of the fair ladies of that day: but still, no doubt can be entertained, that they not only decorated their knights before the tournament with some token of their approbation, but in the case of its loss, often sent him even a part of their dress in the midst of the conflict.

The other spectators, also, though animated by less thrilling interests, took no small share in the feelings and hopes of the different parties. Each blow of the lance or sword, struck well and home, was greeted with loud acclamations; and valour met with both its incitement and its reward, in the expecting silence and the thundering plaudits with which each good champion's movements were waited for and seen.

In the mean while, without giving encouragement to any particular knight, the heralds strove to animate all by various quaint and characteristic exclamations, such as "The love of ladies!" "Death to the horses!" "Honour to the brave!" "Glory to be won by blood and sweat!" "Praise to the sons of the brave!"

It would occupy too much space to enter into all the details of the tournament, or to notice all the laws by which it was governed. Every care was taken that the various knights should meet upon equal terms; and many a precaution was made use of to prevent accidents, and to render the sports both innocent and useful. But no regulations could be found sufficient to guard against the dangerous consequences of such furious amusements; and Ducange gives a long list of princes and nobles who lost their lives in these fatal exercises. The church often interfered, though in vain, to put them down; and many monarchs forbade them in their dominions; but the pomp with which they were accompanied, and the excitement they afforded to a people fond of every mental stimulus, rendered them far more permanent than might have been expected.

The weapons in tournaments were, in almost all cases, restrained to blunted swords and headless spears, daggers, and battle-axes; but, as may well be imagined, these were not to be used without danger; so that even those festivals that passed by without the absolute death of any of the champions, left, nevertheless, many to drag out a maimed and miserable existence, or to die after a long and weary sickness. And yet the very peril of the sport gave to it an all-powerful interest, which we can best conceive, at present, from our feelings at some deep and thrilling tragedy.

After the excitement, and the expectation, and the suspense, and the eagerness, came the triumph and the prize-and the chosen queen of the field bestowed upon the champion whose feats were counted best, that reward, the value of which consisted more in the honour than the thing itself. Sometimes it was a jewel,[46] sometimes a coronet[47] of flowers or of laurel; but in all cases the award implied a right to one kiss from the lips of the lady appointed to bestow the prize. It seems to have been as frequent a practice to assign this prize on the field, as in the chateau[48] or palace whither the court retired after the sports were concluded; and we often find that the female part of the spectators were called to decide upon the merits of the several champions, and to declare the victor[49] as well as confer the reward. Mirth and festivity ever closed the day of the tournament, and song and sports brought in the night.

Every thing that could interest or amuse a barbarous age was collected on the spot where one of these meetings was held. The minstrel or menestrier, the juggler, the saltimbank, the story-teller, were present in the hall to soothe or to entertain; but still the foundation of tale and song was Chivalry;-the objects of all praise were noble deeds and heroic actions; and the very voice of love and tenderness, instead of seducing to sloth and effeminacy, was heard prompting to activity, to enterprise, and to honour-to the defence of virtue, and the search for glory.

It may be here necessary to remark, that there were several sorts of tournaments, which differed essentially from each other; but I shall not pause upon these any longer than merely to point out the particular differences between them. The joust, which was certainly a kind of tournament, was always confined to two persons, though these persons encountered each other with blunted arms.[50]

The combat at outrance was, in fact, a duel, and only differed from the trial by battle in being voluntary, while the other was enforced by law. This contest was often the event of private quarrels, but was, by no means, always so; and, to use the language of Ducange, "though mortal, it took place ordinarily between persons who most frequently did not know each other, or, at least, had no particular misunderstanding, but who sought alone to show forth their courage, generosity, and skill in arms." Sometimes, however, the combat at outrance was undertaken by a number of knights[51] together, and often much blood was thus shed, without cause.

The pas d'armes or passage of arms, differed from general tournaments, inasmuch as a certain number of knights fixed their shields and tents in a particular pass, or spot of ground, which they declared their intention to defend against all comers.[52] The space before their tents was generally listed in, as for a tournament; and, during the time fixed for the defence of the passage, the same concourse of spectators, heralds, and minstrels were assembled.

The round table was another distinct sort of tournament,[53] held in a circular amphitheatre, wherein the knights invited jousted against each other. The origin of this festival, which was held, I believe, for the last time by Edward III., is attributed to Roger Mortimer,[54] who, on receiving knighthood, feasted a hundred knights and a hundred ladies at a round table. The mornings were spent in chivalrous games, the prize of which was a golden lion, and the evenings in banquets and festivities. This course of entertainments continued three days with the most princely splendour; after which Mortimer, having won the prize himself, conducted his guests to Warwick, and dismissed them.

From this account, taken from the History of the Priory of Wigmore, Menestrier deduces that those exercises called "round tables" were only tournaments, during which the lord or sovereign giving the festival entertained his guests at a table which, to prevent all ceremony in respect to precedence, was in the form of a circle. Perhaps, however, this institution may have had a different and an earlier origin, though I find it mentioned in no author previous to the year 1279.[55]

Chivalry, which in its pristine purity knew no reward but honour, soon-as it became combined with power-appropriated to itself various privileges which, injuring its simplicity, in the end brought about its fall. In the first place, the knight was, by the fact of his Chivalry, the judge of all his equals, and consequently of all his inferiors.[56] He was also, in most cases, the executor of his own decree, and it would indeed have required a different nature from humanity to secure such a jurisdiction from frequent perversion. The knight[57] also took precedence of all persons who had not received Chivalry, a distinction well calculated to do away with that humility which was one of knighthood's strictest laws.[58] Added to this was the right of wearing particular dresses and colours, gold and jewels, which were restrained to the knightly class, by very severe ordinances. Scarlet and green were particularly reserved for the order of knighthood, as well as ermine, minever, and some other furs. Knights also possessed what was called privilege of clergy, that is to say, in case of accusation, they could claim to be tried before the ecclesiastical judge.[59] Their arms were legally forbidden to all other classes, and the title of Sire, Monseigneur, Sir, Don, &c., were applied to them alone, till the distinction was lost in the course of time.

Though these privileges changed continually, and it is scarcely possible to say what age gave birth to any one of them, yet it is evident that monarchs, after they had seen the immense influence which Chivalry might have on their own power, and had striven to render it an engine for their own purposes, took every care to secure all those rights and immunities to the order which could in some degree balance the hardships, fatigues, and dangers inevitably attendant upon it, and supply the place of that enthusiasm which of course grew fainter as the circumstances which excited it changed, and the objects which it sought were accomplished.

It is probable that there would always have been many men who would have coveted Chivalry for the sole purpose of doing good and protecting the innocent; but monarchs sought to increase the number of knights as a means of defending their realms and extending their power, and, consequently, they supplied other motives and external honours as an inducement to those persons of a less exalted mind.

Chivalry was indeed a distinction not to be enjoyed without many and severe labours. The first thing after receiving knighthood was generally a long journey[60] into foreign countries, both for the purpose of jousting with other knights, and for instruction in every sort of chivalrous knowledge. There the young knight studied carefully the demeanour of every celebrated champion he met, and strove to glean the excellencies of each. Thus he learned courtesy and grace, and thus he heard all the famous exploits of the day which, borne from court to court by these chivalrous travellers, spread the fame of great deeds from one end of the world to the other.[61]

It cannot be doubted that this practice of wandering armed through Europe gave great scope to licentiousness in those who were naturally ill-disposed; and many a cruelty and many a crime was assuredly committed by that very order instituted to put down vice and to protect innocence. To guard against this the laws of Chivalry were most severe;[62] and as great power was intrusted to the knight, great was the shame and dishonour if he abused it. The oath taken in the first place was as strictly opposed to every vice, as any human promise could be, and the first principle of chivalrous honour was never to violate an engagement. I must here still repeat the remark, that it was the spirit which constituted the Chivalry, and as that spirit waned, Chivalry died away.

One of the most curious institutions of Chivalry was that which required a knight, on his return from any expedition,[63] to give a full and minute account to the heralds, or officers of arms, of all his adventures during his absence, without reserve or concealment; telling as well his reverses and discomfitures, as his honours and success. To do this he was bound by oath; and the detail thus given was registered by the herald, who by such relations learned to know and estimate the worth and prowess of each individual knight. It served also to excite other adventurers to great deeds in imitation of those who acquired fame and honour; and it afforded matter of consolation to the unfortunate, who in those registers must ever have met with mishaps to equal or surpass their own.

The spirit of Chivalry, however, led to a thousand deeds and habits not required nor regulated by any law. Were two armies opposed to each other, or even encamped in the neighbourhood of each other, though at peace,[64] the knights would continually issue forth singly from the ranks to challenge any other champion to come out, and break a lance in honour of his lady. Often before a castle, or on the eve of a battle, a knight would vow to some holy saint never to quit the field, or abandon the siege, till death or victory ended his design. Frequently, too, we find that in the midst of some great festival, where all the Chivalry of the land was assembled, a knight would suddenly appear, bearing in his hands[65] a peacock, a heron, or some other bird. Presenting it in turn to each noble in the assembly, he would then demand their oath upon that bird to do some great feat of arms against the enemy. No knight dared to refuse, and the vow so taken was irrevocable and never broken.

One of the most extraordinary customs of Chivalry, and also one of the most interesting, was the adoption of a brother in arms.[66]

This custom[67] seems to have taken its rise in England, and was in common use especially among the Saxons. After the Conquest, however, it rapidly spread to other nations, and seems to have been a favourite practice with the crusaders. Esteem and long companionship were the first principles of this curious sort of alliance, which bound one knight to another by ties more strict than those of blood itself.

It is true the brotherhood in arms was often contracted but for a time, or under certain circumstances,[68] which once passed by, the engagement was at an end; but far oftener it was a bond for life, uniting interests and feelings, and dividing dangers and successes. The brothers in arms[69] met all perils together, undertook all adventures in company, shared in the advantage of every happy enterprise, and partook of the pain or loss of every misfortune. If the one was attacked in body, in honour, or in estate, the other sprang forward to defend him. Their wealth and even their thoughts were in common; so that the news which the one received, or the design that he formed, he was bound to communicate to the other without reserve. Even if the one underlay a wager of battle[70] against any other knight, and was cut off by death before he could discharge himself thereof, his brother in arms was bound to appear in the lists, in defence of his honour, on the day appointed.

Sometimes[71] this fraternity of arms was contracted by a solemn deed; sometimes by a vow ratified by the communion and other ceremonies of the church. In many cases,[72] however, the only form consisted in the mutual exchange of arms, which implied the same devotion to each other, and the same irrevocable engagement.

I have now said sufficient concerning the habits and customs of the ancient knights, to give a general idea of the rules by which Chivalry was governed, and the spirit by which it was animated. That spirit waxed fainter, it is true, as luxury and pomp increased, and as the barbarities of an early age merged into the softer licentiousness that followed.

But the rules of the order themselves remained unchanged, and did far more than any other institution to restrain the general incontinence[73] of the age. Even in those days when chivalrous love was no longer pure, and chivalrous religion no longer the spring of the noblest morality, the spirit of the days of old lingered amid the ruins of the falling institution. An Edward, a Du Guesclin, a Bayard, a Sidney, would rise up in the midst of corrupted times, and shame the vices of the day by still showing one more true knight; and even now, when the order has altogether passed away, we feel and benefit by its good effects.

So complete a change has come over manners and customs, so rapid has been our late progress, and so many and vast have been the events of latter years, that to trace the remains of Chivalry in any of our present feelings or institutions, seems but a theoretical dream. The knights of old are looked upon as things apart, that have neither kin nor community with ourselves; their acts are hardly believed; and their very existence is doubted. Let him who would make historical remembrance more tangible, and see how nearly the days of Chivalry approach to our own, run his eye over one short page in the chronology of the world, and he will find that no more than three centuries have passed since Bayard himself died, a knight without reproach.

* * *

The Progress of Chivalry in Europe-Exploits-That some great Enterprise was necessary to give Chivalry an extensive and permanent Effect-That Enterprise presented itself in the Crusades-Pilgrimage to Jerusalem-Haroun Al Raschid-Charlemagne-Cruelties of the Turks-Pilgrimages continued-Peter the Hermit-Council of Clermont.

The picture which I have just attempted to draw of the various customs of Chivalry must be looked upon rather as a summary of its institutions and feelings, as they changed through many ages and many nations, than as a likeness of Chivalry at any precise period, or in any one country.

Previous to the age of the crusades, to which I now propose to turn as speedily as possible, the state of Chivalry in Europe had made but little progress. It had spread, however, as a spirit, to almost all the nations surrounding the cradle of its birth. In Spain Alphonso VI.[74] was already waging a completely chivalric war against the Moors, and many of the knights of France, who afterward distinguished themselves in the Holy Land, had, in the service of one or other of the Spanish princes, tried their arms against the Saracens.

In England we have seen that there is reason to suppose the institution of knighthood was known to the Saxons,[75] though the indiscriminate manner in which the word miles is used in the Latin chronicles of the day renders it scarcely possible to ascertain at what period the order was introduced. The same difficulty indeed occurs in regard to the Normans, though from various circumstances connected with the accounts given by William of Jumieges,[76] of the reigns of William I. and Richard I., Dukes of Normandy, we are led to believe that Chivalry was very early introduced among that people. At all events it seems certain that after the accession of Richard to the ducal dignity, A. D. 960, knightly feelings made great progress among the Normans, and in 1003, we find an exploit so purely chivalrous, performed by a body of forty gentlemen from Normandy, that we cannot doubt the spirit of knighthood in its purest form had already spread through that country.

"Forty Norman gentlemen," says Vertot, "all warriors, who had distinguished themselves in the armies of the Duke of Normandy, returning from a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, disembarked in Italy without arms. Having learned that the town of Salerno was besieged by the Saracens, their zeal for religion caused them instantly to throw themselves into that place. Guimard, the Prince of Salerno, had shut himself up in the town, to defend it to the last against the infidels; and he immediately caused arms and horses to be given to the Norman gentlemen, who made so many vigorous and unexpected sallies upon the Saracens, that they compelled them to raise the siege." In Italy we find many traces of Chivalry at an early date, and it would appear that the institution which took its rise in France was no sooner known than adopted by most other nations. The Normans, whom we have seen above succouring the Prince of Salerno in his necessity, did not remain a sufficient length of time in Italy to spread the chivalrous spirit; but it is said that Guimard, after using every effort to induce them to stay, sent deputies after them to Normandy, praying for aid from the nobles of that country against the Saracens. Several large bodies of Norman adventurers, in consequence of his promises and persuasions, proceeded to establish themselves in Apulia and Calabria, defeated the Saracens, cleared the south of Italy and part of Greece of those locust-like invaders, and re-established the Greek and Italian princes in their dominions. These princes, however, soon became jealous of their new allies, and employed various base means to destroy them. They, on the other hand, united for mutual defence, and under the famous Robert Guiscard, one of twelve brothers who had left Normandy for Italy together, they speedily conquered for themselves the countries which they had restored to ungrateful lords. Guiscard was now universally acknowledged as their chief, and thus began the chivalrous Norman empire in Italy.

Nothing, perhaps, more favoured the general progress of Chivalry than the state of religion in that day; which, overloaded with superstitions, and decked out with every external pomp and ornament, appealed to the imagination through the medium of the senses, and woke a thousand enthusiasms which could find no such fitting career as in the pursuits of knighthood. The first efforts of the feudal system, too, gradually extending themselves to every part of Europe, joined to make Chivalry spread through the different countries where they were felt, by raising up a number of independent lords who-each anxious to reduce his neighbours to vassalage, and to preserve his own separate lordship-required continual armed support from others, to whom he offered in return honour and protection.

Thus, for about a century, or perhaps a little more, after the first institution of knighthood, Chivalry slowly gained ground, and by each exploit of any particular body of knights (such, for instance, as we have recorded of the Normans) the order became more and more respected, and its establishment more firm, decided, and regular. It wanted but one great enterprise commenced and carried through upon chivalrous principles alone to render Chivalry, combined as it was with religion and the feudal system, the great master power of Europe-and that enterprise was at hand.

The natural reverence for those countries, sanctified and elevated by so many miracles, and rendered sublimely dear to the heart of every Christian, as the land in which his salvation was brightly but terribly worked out, had from all ages rendered Palestine an object of pilgrimage. In the earliest times, after the recognition of the Christian faith by Constantine, the subjects of the Roman empire had followed the example of the empress Helena, and had deemed it almost a Christian duty to visit the scenes of our Saviour's mortal career. For many ages while the whole of Judea remained under the sway of the Cesars, the journey was an easy one. Few difficulties waylaid the passenger, or gave pilgrimage even the merit of dangers encountered and obstacles overcome.

Towards the seventh century, the eastern provinces of the Roman empire, already weakened by many invasions, had to encounter the exertions of another adversary, who succeeded in wresting them from their Christian possessors. The successors of Mahomet, who from a low station had become a great legislator, a mighty conqueror, and a pretended prophet, carried on the conquest which he had begun in Arabia, and one by one made themselves masters of Syria, Antioch, Persia, Medea, and in fact the greater part of the rich continent of Asia.

It is not here my purpose to trace the progress of these conquerors, or to examine for a moment the religion they professed. Suffice it, that in the days of Charlemagne the fame of that great prince produced from the calif Haroun al Raschid many liberal concessions in favour of the Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem, now in the hands of the unbelievers.

Particular ages seem fertile in great men; and it is very rare to find one distinguished poet, monarch, or conqueror standing alone in his own century. Nay more;-we generally discover-however different the country that produces them, and however opposite the circumstances under which they are placed-that there is a similarity in the character of the mind, if I may so express myself without obscurity, of the eminent persons produced in each particular age. This was peculiarly the case in the age of Charlemagne. It seemed as if the most remote corners of the earth had made an effort, at the same moment, to produce from the bosom of barbarism and confusion a great and intelligent monarch-an Alfred, a Haroun, and a Charlemagne. The likeness seemed to be felt by the two great emperors of the east and the west; and a reciprocation of courtesy[77] and friendship appears to have taken place between them, most rare in that remote age. Various presents were transmitted from one to the other; and the most precious offering that the Christian monarch could receive, the keys of the Holy City, were sent from Bagdad to Aix, together with a standard, which has been supposed to imply the sovereignty of Jerusalem resigned by Haroun to his great contemporary. Nothing could afford a nobler proof of a great, a liberal, and a delicate mind, than the choice evinced by the calif in his gift. Charlemagne took advantage so far of Haroun's liberality,[78] as to establish an hospital and a library for the Latin pilgrims.

The successors of Haroun, and more particularly Monstacer Billah, continued to yield tolerance at least, if not protection, to the Christians of Jerusalem. The pilgrims also were more or less protected during the reigns that followed, both from motives of liberal feeling and of interest, as the great influx of travellers, especially from Italy, brought much wealth and commerce into Syria.

Under the califs of the Fatemite race several persecutions took place; and when at length the invasion of the Turkish hordes had brought the whole of Palestine under the dominion of a wild and barbarous race, Jerusalem was taken and sacked; and while the Christian inhabitants were treated with every sort of brutal cruelty, the pilgrims were subject to taxation[79] on their arrival, as well as liable to plunder by the way.

A piece of gold was exacted for permission to enter the Holy City; and at that time, when the value of the precious metals was infinitely higher than in the present day, few, if any, of the pilgrims on their arrival possessed sufficient to pay the cruel demand.

Thus, after having suffered toils unheard of-hunger, thirst, the parching influence of a burning sky, sickness, danger, and often robbery, and wounds; when the weary wanderer arrived at the very entrance of the city, with the bourn of all his long pilgrimage before him, the enthusiastic object of all his hopes in sight, the place of refuge and repose for which he had longed and prayed within his reach-unless he could pay the stipulated sum, he was driven by the barbarians from the gates, and was forced to tread back all his heavy way unfurnished with any means, and unsupported by any hope, or to die by the roadside of want, weariness, and despair.

The pilgrimages nevertheless continued with unremitting zeal; and the number of devotees increased greatly in the tenth and eleventh centuries. In the tenth, indeed, the custom of pilgrimage became almost universal, from a misinterpretation[80] of a prophecy in the Apocalypse. A general belief prevailed that at the end of the tenth century, the thousand years being concluded, the world was to be judged; and crowds of men and women, in the frantic hope of expiating their sins by the long and painful journey to the Holy Land, flocked from all parts of Europe towards Jerusalem.

Many of the more clear-sighted and sensible of the Christian prelates had from time to time attempted to dissuade the people from these dangerous and fatal pilgrimages; but the principle of bodily infliction being received as a mark of internal penitence and a means of obtaining absolution, had been so long inculcated by the church of Rome, that the current of popular opinion had received its impulse, and it was no longer possible to turn it from its course. No penance could be more painful or more consistent with the prejudices of the multitude, than a pilgrimage to the Holy Land; and thus the priests continued often to enforce the act, while the heads of the church themselves, as religion became corrupted, learned to see this sort of penitence in the same light as the people, and encouraged its execution. They found the great efficacy of external excitements in stimulating the populace to that superstitious obedience on which they were fast building up the authority of the Roman church, and probably also were not without a share in the bigoted enthusiasm which they taught. Thus in the tenth century the pilgrimages which fear lest the day of judgment should be approaching induced many to undertake in expiation of their sins, met but little opposition; while various meteoric phenomena, of a somewhat awful nature, earthquakes, hurricanes, &c., contributed to increase the general alarm.

When these had passed by, and the dreaded epoch had brought forth nothing, the current still continued to flow on in the course that it had taken; and during the eleventh century several circumstances tended to increase it. Among others the terror spread through France by the Papal Interdict, called forth by the refractory adherence of Robert I. to his queen[81] Bertha, brought more pilgrims than usual from that country.

Of many thousands who passed into Asia,[82] a few isolated individuals only returned; but these every day, as they passed through the different countries of Europe on their journey back, spread indignation and horror by their account of the dreadful sufferings of the Christians in Judea. Various[83] letters are reported as having been sent by the emperors of the east to the different princes of Europe, soliciting aid to repel the encroachments of the infidel; and if but a very small portion of the crimes and cruelty attributed to the Turks by these epistles were believed by the Christians, it is not at all astonishing that wrath and horror took possession of every chivalrous bosom. Pope Sylvester II. had made an ineffectual appeal to Christendom towards the end of the tenth century, bringing forward the first idea of a crusade;[84] but the age was not then ripe for a project that required a fuller developement of chivalrous feelings. Gregory VII. revived the idea, and made it the subject of a very pompous epistle; but he himself was one of the first to forget the miseries of his fellow-christians in Palestine, in the pursuit of his own aggrandizement.

Still, the persecution of the Christians in Palestine, and the murder and pillage of the pilgrims continued; still the indignation of Europe was fed and renewed by repeated tales of cruel barbarity committed in the Holy Land-sufferings of the church-insults to religion-and merciless massacres of countrymen and relations: still, also, the spirit of Chivalry was each day spreading further and rising more powerfully, so that all was preparing for some great and general movement. The lightning of the crusade was in the people's hearts, and it wanted but one electric touch to make it flash forth upon the world.

At this time a man, of whose early days we have little authentic knowledge, but that he was born at Amiens, and from a soldier had become a priest,[85] after living for some time the life of a hermit, became seized with the desire of visiting Jerusalem. He was, according to all accounts,[86] small in stature and mean in person; but his eyes possessed a peculiar fire and intelligence, and his eloquence was powerful and flowing. The fullest account of his manners and conduct is to be found in Robert the Monk, who was present at the council of Clermont, and in Guibert of Nogent, who speaks in the tone of one who has beheld what he relates.

The first of these authors describes Peter the Hermit,[87] of whom we speak, as esteemed among those who best understand the things of earth, and superior in piety to all the bishops or abbots of the day. He fed upon neither flesh nor bread, says the same writer, though he permitted himself wine and other aliments, finding nevertheless his pleasure in the greatest abstinence.

Guibert, or Gilbert, of Nogent, speaks still more fully of his public conduct.[88] "He set out," says the writer, "from whence I know not, nor with what design; but we saw him at that time passing through the towns and villages, preaching every where, and the people surrounding him in crowds, loading him with presents, and celebrating his sanctity with such high eulogiums, that I never remember to have seen such honours rendered to any other person. He showed himself very generous, however, in the distribution of the things given to him. He brought back to their homes the women that had abandoned their husbands, not without adding gifts of his own, and re-established peace between those who lived unhappily, with wonderful authority. In every thing he said or did, it seemed as if there was something of divine; so much so, that people went to pluck some of the hairs from his mule, which they kept afterward as relics; which I mention here not that they really were so, but merely served to satisfy the public love of any thing extraordinary. While out of doors he wore ordinarily a woollen tunic, with a brown mantle, which fell down to his heels. He had his arms and his feet bare, eat little or no bread, and lived upon fish and wine."

Such was his appearance after his return: prior to that period it is probable that this hermit had made himself remarkable for nothing but his general eloquence and his ascetic severity. Great and extraordinary men are often long before opportunity gives scope for the display of the particular spirit whose efforts are destined to distinguish them. I mean not to class Peter the Hermit among great men; but certainly he deserves the character of one of the most extraordinary men that Europe ever produced, if it were but for the circumstance of having convulsed a world-led one continent to combat to extermination against another, and yet left historians in doubt whether he was madman or prophet, fool or politician.

Peter, however, accomplished in safety his pilgrimage to Jerusalem,[89] paid the piece of gold demanded at the gates, and took up his lodging in the house of one of the pious Christians of the Holy City. Here his first emotion[90] seems to have been indignant horror at the barbarous and sacrilegious brutality of the Turks. The venerable prelate of Tyre represents him as conferring eagerly with his host upon the enormous cruelties of the infidels, even before visiting the general objects of devotion. Doubtless the ardent, passionate, enthusiastic mind of Peter had been wrought upon at every step he took in the Holy Land, by the miserable state of his brethren, till his feelings and imagination became excited to almost frantic vehemence. After performing the duties of the pilgrimage, visiting each object of reputed holiness,[91] and praying in those churches which had the fame of peculiar sanctity, Peter, with his heart wrung at beholding the objects of his deepest veneration in the hands of the church's enemies, demanded an audience of the patriarch, to whom some Latin friend presented him.

Simeon the patriarch, though a Greek, and consequently in the eyes of Peter a heretic, was still a Christian, suffering in common with the rest of the faithful in the Holy Land, and the hermit saw in him that character alone. The union-the overflowing confidence with which the hermit and the prelate appear to have treated each other-raises them both in our estimation; but it also throws an historical light upon the character of Peter, which places him in a more elevated situation than modern historians have been willing to concede to him. The patriarch Simeon, a man as famous for his good sense as for his piety, would not, surely, have opened his inmost thoughts to a wandering pilgrim like Peter, and intrusted to him a paper sealed with his own seal, which, if taken by the Turks, would have ensured death to himself and destruction to Christianity in Palestine, had he not recognised in the hermit "a man,"[92] to use the words of William of Tyre, "full of prudence and experience in the things of this world."

This, however, was the case; and after long conversations, wherein many a tear was shed over the hapless state of the Holy Land, it was determined, at the suggestion of Peter, that the patriarch should write to the pope and the princes of the west, setting forth the miseries of Jerusalem and of the faithful people of the Holy City, and praying for aid and protection against the merciless sword of the Saracen. Peter, on his part, promised to seek out each individual prince, and to show, with his whole powers of language, the ills of the Christians of Palestine.

From these conversations Peter went again and again to pray in the church of the Resurrection, petitioning ardently for aid in the great undertaking before him. On one of these occasions it is said that he fell asleep,[93] and beheld the Saviour in a vision, who exhorted him to hasten on his journey, and persevere in his design.

Without searching for any thing preternatural, the vision is not at all difficult to believe, though the place of its occurrence seems to have been fictitious. Nothing could be more natural than for Peter the Hermit, with his mind full of the mission he was about to undertake, to dream that the Being in whose cause he believed himself engaged appeared to encourage him, and to hasten his enterprise; and it is easy to conceive that, with full confidence in this manifestation of heavenly favour, he should set forth upon his journey with enthusiastic zeal.

Bearing the letter of the patriarch, Peter now returned in haste to Italy, and sought out the pope, to declare the miseries of the church in the Holy Land, and to propose the means of its deliverance. Urban II., who then occupied the apostolic chair, had inherited from Gregory wars and contestations with the emperor Henry IV., and was at the same time embroiled with the weak and luxurious Philip I. of France, on the subject of that king's adulterous intercourse with Bertrade. He, as well as Gregory, had taken refuge in Apulia and Calabria, and had thrown himself upon the protection of the famous Robert Guiscard, who readily granted him the aid of that powerful mind which made the utmost parts of the earth tremble.[94]

It does not correctly appear at what place Urban sojourned at the time of Peter's arrival in Italy.[95] His whole support was, evidently, still in the family of Guiscard; and it seems that with Boemond, Prince of Tarentum, the gallant and chivalrous son of Robert, he first held council upon the hermit's[96] great and interesting proposal, before he determined on the line of conduct to be pursued.

One of the historians of the crusades,[97] attributing perhaps somewhat too much the spirit of modern politics to an age whose genius was of very different quality, supposes that the course determined on by the pope and his ally was, in fact, principally a shrewd plot to fix Urban firmly in the Vatican, and to forward Boemond's ambitious views in Greece. It seems to me, however, that such a supposition is perfectly irreconcilable with the subsequent conduct of either. The pope shortly after threw himself into the midst of his enemies, to hold a council on the subject of the crusades; and Boemond abandoned every thing in Europe to carry on the holy war in Palestine. It is much more natural to imagine that the spirit of their age governed both the prelate and the warrior-the enthusiasm of religion the one, and the enthusiasm of Chivalry the other.

However that may be, Peter the Hermit met with a most encouraging reception from the pope. The sufferings of his fellow-christians brought tears from the prelate's eyes; the general scheme of the crusade was sanctioned[98] instantly by his authority; and, promising his quick and active concurrence, he sent him on, the pilgrim to preach the deliverance of the Holy Land through all the countries of Europe. Peter wanted neither zeal nor activity[99]-from town to town, from province to province, from country to country, he spread the cry of vengeance on the Turks, and deliverance to Jerusalem! The warlike spirit of the people was at its height; the genius of Chivalry was in the vigour of its early youth; the enthusiasm of religion had now a great and terrible object before it, and all the gates of the human heart were open to the eloquence of the preacher. That eloquence was not exerted in vain; nations rose at his word and grasped the spear; and it only wanted some one to direct and point the great enterprise that was already determined.

In the mean time the pope did not forget his promise; and while Peter the Hermit spread the inspiration throughout Europe,[100] Urban called together a council at Placentia, to which deputies were admitted from the emperor of Constantinople, who displayed the progress of the Turks, and set forth the danger to all Christendom of suffering their arms to advance unopposed. The opinion of the assembly was universally favourable to the crusade; and trusting to the popularity of the measure, and the indications of support which he had already met with, the pope determined to cross the Alps and to hold a second council in the heart of Gaul.

The ostensible object of this council was to regulate the state of the church, and to correct abuses; but the great object was, in fact, the crusade. It is useless to investigate the motives which gave Urban II. courage to summon a council, destined, among other things, to solemnly reprobate the dissolute conduct of Philip of France, in the midst of dominions, if not absolutely feudatory to the crown[101] of that monarch, at least bound to it by friendship and alliance. Whether it arose from fortitude of a just cause, or from reliance on political calculation, the prelate's judgment was proved by the event to be right. After one or two changes in regard to the place of meeting, the council was assembled at Clermont, in Auvergne,[102] and was composed of an unheard-of multitude of priests, princes, and nobles, both of France and Germany, all willing and eager to receive the pope's injunctions with reverence and obedience. After having terminated the less important affairs which formed the apparent business of the meeting, and which occupied the deliberation of seven days, Urban, one of the most eloquent men of the age, came forth from the church[103] in which the principal ecclesiastics were assembled, and addressed the immense concourse which had been gathered into one of the great squares, no building being large enough to contain the number.

The prelate[104] then, with the language best calculated to win the hearts of all his hearers, displayed the miseries of the Christians in the Holy Land. He addressed the multitude as a people peculiarly favoured by God, in the gift of courage, strength, and true faith. He told them that their brethren in the east were trampled under the feet of infidels, to whom God had not granted the light of his Holy Spirit-that fire, plunder, and the sword had desolated completely the fair plains of Palestine-that her children were led away captive, or enslaved, or died under tortures too horrible to recount-that the women of their land were subjected to the impure passions of the pagans, and that God's own altar, the symbols of salvation, and the precious relics of the saints were all desecrated by the gross and filthy abomination of a race of heathens. To whom, then, he asked-to whom did it belong to punish such crimes, to wipe away such impurities, to destroy the oppressors, and to raise up the oppressed? To whom, if not to those who heard him, who had received from God strength, and power, and greatness of soul; whose ancestors had been the prop of Christendom, and whose kings had put a barrier to the progress of infidels? "Think!" he cried, "of the sepulchre of Christ our Saviour possessed by the foul heathen!-think of all the sacred places dishonoured by their sacrilegious impurities!-O brave knights, offspring of invincible fathers, degenerate not from your ancient blood! remember the virtues of your ancestors, and if you feel held back from the course before you by the soft ties of wives, of children, of parents, call to mind the words of our Lord himself: 'Whosoever loves father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me. Whosoever shall abandon for my name's sake his house, or his brethren, or his sisters, or his father, or his mother, or his wife, or his children, or his lands, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life.'"

The prelate then went on to point out the superior mundane advantages which those might obtain who took the Cross. He represented their own country as poor and arid, and Palestine as a land flowing with milk and honey; and, blending the barbarous ideas of a dark age with the powerful figures of enthusiastic eloquence, he proceeded-"Jerusalem is in the centre of this fertile land; and its territories, rich above all others, offer, so to speak, the delights of Paradise. That land, too, the Redeemer of the human race rendered illustrious by his advent, honoured by his residence, consecrated by his passion, repurchased by his death, signalized by his sepulture. That royal city, Jerusalem-situated in the centre of the world-held captive by infidels, who deny the God that honoured her-now calls on you and prays for her deliverance. From you-from you above all people she looks for comfort, and she hopes for aid; since God has granted to you, beyond other nations, glory and might in arms. Take, then, the road before you in expiation of your sins, and go, assured that, after the honour of this world shall have passed away, imperishable glory shall await you even in the kingdom of heaven!"

Loud shouts of "God wills it! God wills it!" pronounced simultaneously by the whole people, in all the different dialects and languages of which the multitude was composed, here interrupted for a moment the speech of the prelate: but, gladly seizing the time, Urban proceeded, after having obtained silence, "Dear brethren, to-day is shown forth in you that which the Lord has said by his evangelist-'When two or three shall be assembled in my name, there shall I be in the midst of them;' for if the Lord God had not been in your souls, you would not all have pronounced the same words; or, rather, God himself pronounced them by your lips, for he it was that put them in your hearts. Be they, then, your war-cry in the combat, for those words came forth from God.-Let the army of the Lord, when it rushes upon his enemies, shout but that one cry, 'God wills it! God wills it!'[105]

"Remember, however, that we neither order nor advise this journey to the old, nor to the weak, nor to those who are unfit to bear arms. Let not this way be taken by women, without their husbands, or their brothers, or their legitimate guardians, for such are rather a burden than an aid. Let the rich assist the poor, and bring with them, at their own charge, those who can bear arms to the field. Still, let not priests nor clerks, to whatever place they may belong, set out on this journey without the permission of their bishop; nor the layman undertake it without the blessing of his pastor, for to such as do so their journey shall be fruitless. Let whoever is inclined to devote himself to the cause of God, make it a solemn engagement, and bear the cross of the Lord either on his breast or on his brow till he set out; and let him who is ready to begin his march place the holy emblem on his shoulders, in memory of that precept of the Saviour-'He who does not take up his cross and follow me, is not worthy of me.'"

The pontiff thus ended his oration, and the multitude prostrating themselves before him, repeated the Confiteor[106] after one of the cardinals. The pope then pronounced the absolution of their sins, and bestowed on them his benediction; after which they retired to their homes to prepare for the great undertaking to which they had vowed themselves.

Miracles are told of the manner in which the news of this council, and of the events that distinguished it, spread to every part of the world; but nevertheless it did spread, as may easily be conceived, with great quickness, without any supernatural aid; and, to make use of the words of him from whom we have sketched the oration of the pope, "Throughout the earth, the Christians glorified themselves and were filled with joy, while the Gentiles of Arabia and Persia trembled and were seized with sadness: the souls of the one race were exalted, those of the others stricken with fear and stupor."

Great, certainly, was the influence which the zeal and eloquence of Urban gave him over the people. Some authors, with a curious sort of historical puritanism, which leads them to judge of ages past only by the principles of the day in which they themselves exist, have reproached the pope with not using the means in his hands for purposes which would have needed the heart of a Fenelon to conceive properly, and the head of a Napoleon to execute. They say that, with the powers which he did possess, he might have reformed a world! It is hardly fair, methinks, to require of a man in a barbarous, ignorant, corrupted age the enlightened visions of the nineteenth century.

Pope Urban II., at the end of the eleventh century, showed a great superiority to the age in which he lived, and at the council of Clermont evinced qualities of both the heart and the mind which have deservedly brought his name down to us with honour. His first act in the council was to excommunicate, for adulterous profligacy, Philip, monarch of the very ground on which he stood; and, in so doing, he made use of the only acknowledged authority by which the kings of that day could be checked in the course of evil. Whether the authority itself was or was not legitimate, is not here the question; but, being at the time undisputed, and employed for the best of objects, its use can in no way fairly be cited as an instance either of pride or ambition. The pope's conduct in preaching the crusade is equally justifiable. His views were of course those of the age in which he lived, and he acted with noble enthusiasm in accordance with those views. He made vast efforts, he endangered his person, he sacrificed his ease and comfort, to accomplish what no churchman of his day pretended to doubt was a glorious and a noble undertaking. In thus acting, he displayed great qualities of mind, and showed himself superior to the century in powers of conducting, if he was not so in the powers of conceiving great designs.

It would be very difficult to prove, also, that the pope, had he even possessed the will, could, by the exertion of every effort, have produced the same effect in any other cause that he did in favour of the crusades. I have already attempted to show that all things were prepared in Europe for the expedition to the Holy Land, by the spirit of religious and military enthusiasm; and the task was light, to aid in pouring on the current of popular feeling in the direction which it had already begun to take, when compared with the labour necessary to have turned that current into another channel. He who does not grasp the spirit of the age on which he writes, but judges of other days by the feelings of his own, is like one who would adapt a polar dress to the climate of the tropics.

Before closing this chapter, one observation also must be made respecting the justice of the crusade, which enterprise it has become somewhat customary to look upon as altogether cruel and unnecessary. Such an opinion, however, is in no degree founded on fact. The crusade was not only as just as any other warfare of the day, but as just as any that ever was waged. The object was, the protection and relief of a cruelly oppressed and injured people-the object was, to repel a strong, an active, and an encroaching enemy-the object was, to wrest from the hands of a bloodthirsty and savage people territories which they themselves claimed by no right but the sword, and in which the population they had enslaved was loudly crying for deliverance from their yoke-the object was, to defend a weak and exposed frontier from the further aggression of a nation whose boast was conquest.

Such were the objects of the crusades; and though much of superstition was mingled with the incitements, and many cruelties committed in its course, the evils were not greater than ordinary ambition every day produces; and the motives were as fair as any of those that have ever instigated the many feuds and warfares of the world.

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