A TOURNAMENT,
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY 
 
 Scenes from tfje iLtfres of 
 THE CHEVALIER BAYARD 
 
 AND 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY 
 
 KY 
 
 PHILIP H. JOHNSTONE, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 Senior Moderator, Trinity College, Dublin 
 
 X o n > o n : 
 MARCUS WARD & CO., LIMITED 
 
 ORIEL HOUSE, FARRINGDON STREET, B.C. 
 
 AND AT BELFAST AND NEW YORK 
 
 1890
 
 De&fcation. 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 THAT BRIGHT PARTICULAR STAR OF MODERN CHIVALRY, 
 THE LATE 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL CHARLES G. GORDON, C.B. 
 
 2071151
 
 (pafmam
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 N this age of the endless making of books, it 
 is necessary to have good reason for adding 
 another to the innumerable series. 
 
 I have not been able to discover any 
 other work giving within reasonable limits a concise state- 
 ment of the principles and effects of the Institution of 
 Chivalry. 
 
 The Chevalier Bayard and Sir Philip Sidney are names 
 to conjure with, yet how few of those who so often use 
 them know anything of the actions on which their fame 
 rests. There have been several French lives of Bayard 
 written, some of which have been translated into English, 
 notably by the poet Southey in 1825, and all founded on 
 La trbs joyeuse Histoire du gentil Seigneur de Bay art par 
 le loyal serviteur, published shortly after his death; but I am 
 not aware of any book in English giving a short and succinct 
 account of his life suitable for the general reader.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 There is no life of Sidney at present in print except that 
 in the " English Men of Letters" series, dealing solely with 
 his literary work, a totally different aspect from that which I 
 have considered in the following pages. 
 
 Kecent historical research has thrown new light on the 
 period with which I have had to deal, and among the 
 authorities of which I have availed myself are La tres 
 joyeuse Histolre; Fox Bourne's Memoir of Sidney; Hallam's 
 History of the Middle Ages ; Fronde's History of England ; 
 Dyer's Modern Europe, and the other standard works of the 
 period. 
 
 DAVOS-PLATZ, 
 22nd January, 18'JO.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION, . . ... . . xi. 
 
 CHAPTER I. THE FEUDAL PERIOD, ... 1 
 
 ,, II. THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD, . 14 
 
 CHEVALIER BAYARD. 
 
 ,, III. As PAGE AND SQUIRE, . . 37 
 
 ,, IV. As KNIGHT AND WARRIOR, . . 48 
 
 ,, V. THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY, . . 65 
 
 ,, VI. THE LAST VICTORY, . . .83 
 
 ,, VII. INTERLUDE, .... 101 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 ,, VIII. As SCHOLAR AND STUDENT, . . 115 
 
 ,, IX. As COURTIER AND STATESMAN, . 127 
 
 ,, X. As POET AND AUTHOR, . . . 139 
 
 XI. THE HOLY GRAIL, . . .160 
 
 XII. L'ENvoi, . . 169
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 T is my purpose in the following pages to 
 treat of one of the most interesting periods 
 in the annals of the nations of Europe, and 
 of an institution which, although it has 
 now been for generations but a memory 
 and a name, has left an indelible impression upon the 
 whole social feelings and impulses of those who have 
 come after. 
 
 Chivalry was, when at the height of its prosperity, 
 one of the most important elements in the national 
 being of the countries of Christendom. It exercised, as 
 will hereafter appear, an influence over every phase and 
 direction of the social and political life of the people 
 of those times, and had, perhaps, more to do with the 
 refinement and civilisation of society than any other 
 factor in the history of that age. And its power did 
 not end here. As an institution, with all its ordinances, 
 privileges, and ceremonies, Chivalry did not retain a 
 dominant ascendency over the nobility of Europe for 
 more than about two hundred years, and yet its wide- 
 spread effects only began to be manifested when its 
 reputation and energy as an independent Order had 
 begun to decline. In the years immediately succeeding 
 the foundation of the Order, society was in a state of 
 anarchy and disorganisation which prevented the prin-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ciples inculcated by it from having their full effect, as 
 they were too far advanced in humane and generous 
 feeling for the people of the time to fully understand. 
 But when the condition of society had so far improved 
 as to allow the sentiments of justice and mercy taught 
 by it full scope for action, the Order produced a host 
 of men eminent in every noble quality, whose examples 
 had an invaluable influence upon the manners and 
 habits of their fellows. 
 
 And not only is it of importance on account of its 
 direct influence upon the people of the period, but also 
 owing to the effect it had in producing and encouraging 
 so many other motive powers on the side of civilisa- 
 tion and refinement. For it was the spirit of Chivalry 
 that animated poetry and art at a time when learning 
 and culture were almost unknown ; it created romance 
 and heraldry, which did so much in a rude and barbarous 
 age to foster the taste for the softer pleasures of life ; 
 it determined individual conduct when the Church was 
 the only guide of right and wrong; by its martial strength 
 it modified the policy of states, and inspired the energies, 
 while it controlled the destinies, of the most enterprising 
 and powerful nations of the world. 
 
 The importance of Chivalry at the present time, when 
 the Order of Knighthood is no longer conferred as a 
 reward for the performance of heroic deeds or the pos- 
 session of knightly qualities, arises from the fact that 
 from it are derived many of those magnanimous and 
 lofty ideas and sentiments which still unconsciously
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 animate great and good men, and spur them on to 
 actions of unselfish devotion and manly fortitude. 
 
 It is, of course, impossible to convey any notion of 
 the widespread influence of such an institution as this 
 by the mere statement of its rules and precepts, and we 
 can only see the effect which it has had on the world at 
 large by viewing the results of its animating principles 
 through the lives and conduct of its representative men. 
 It has therefore seemed well to illustrate its training as 
 seen in the actions of two of the greatest members of 
 the great Order to which they belonged : the one, the 
 Chevalier Bayard, as a national hero of France, the 
 cradle of noble and chivalrous sentiments who, in a 
 stern and warlike age, when Chivalry still existed as an 
 institution, lived the life of a brave soldier, and showed 
 how one whose very occupation was the infliction of 
 wounds and death could exhibit the noblest traits of a 
 humane spirit and a kind and gentle heart ; the other, 
 Sir Philip Sidney, as a national hero of England, where 
 the sentiments of knightly honour first developed into 
 those of manly self-respect who, in a society not unlike 
 our own, manifested how plain, straightforward conduct, 
 free and open speech, pure and magnanimous sentiments, 
 could flourish even in the midst of politics and state- 
 craft, and in the luxurious life of courts and palaces. 
 
 Although the lives of both were passed at a time 
 when the direct influence of Chivalry was beginning to 
 decline, yet the ideas and sentiments which governed 
 their whole thought and conduct were the genuine con-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sequences of the training of that institution, and in 
 them we have the highest examples of its elevated 
 teaching. These men are heroes for all time, but their 
 greatness did not consist in any material prosperity 
 which either enjoyed, for both were poor, and without 
 any great rank or influence in the State ; but they have, 
 in a high and stainless renown, a possession which will 
 last for ever, and none can deprive them of. It belongs 
 alike to both Bayard and Sidney that they saw what in 
 life is really worth striving and fighting for, and they 
 steadily pursued this the true good, without hesitation 
 or faltering, from manhood to an early grave. Then, 
 as now, the prizes of life attracting the attention of 
 the brave, the talented, and the ambitious, and in pursuit 
 of which they spent their lives, were those ephemeral 
 possessions of wealth, rank, and power only valuable 
 as means to attain some higher aim, but which, when 
 sought as ends in themselves, are like the apples growing 
 by the banks of the Dead Sea, sweet and beautiful to 
 the eye, but which crumble into dust when touched. 
 
 It was not for such as this that these two noble 
 hearts lived and fought and conquered. They saw, 
 with that divine light only given to pure and great 
 minds, that most of their companions were like the 
 man with the muck-rake, stooping to gather the 
 worthless straws and rubbish from the earth, while they 
 looked not upward to the angel of light who held the 
 deathless crown of glory within reach. Their lives are 
 full of actions which display a calm contempt for the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 petty objects desired by lesser souls, a steadfast insight 
 into what is best and truest, and a noble determination 
 to walk only in the higher paths of virtue and honour. 
 And it is because of this that now, after the lapse of 
 years, and in a new and changed era in the world's 
 history, when the lives and stories of others who in 
 their day were famed for riches, prosperity, or success 
 have faded away into utter forgetfulness, we can still 
 look upon these two heroes as models for the mighty 
 world, and feel a pride and sympathy in their noble 
 achievements and inspiring words. 
 
 In them we have specimens of two living, breath- 
 ing men, made of the same clay as ourselves, who 
 yet approached within an appreciable length of the 
 ideal perfection of their natures. At this distance of 
 time we cannot well imagine how their thoughts and 
 actions, springing as they did from pure and noble 
 minds, could have been other than great and good ; and 
 yet it was not so to them. They had their own hard 
 struggles for the right against all the alluring forces 
 striving to drag them down to a lower level, and, at 
 every cost to present peace, enjoyment, and material 
 prosperity, they firmly withstood these pleasures which 
 enticed so many others, and persevered in following a 
 higher course alone. We have many instances in the 
 history of their times of others who, like them, felt the 
 ennobling influence of Chivalry, and yet were unable 
 to live up to its highest precepts. Thus it was the 
 constant ambition of King Francis to display all the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 qualities of a perfect knight, and yet he merely suc- 
 ceeded in imitating the pomp and show of Chivalry with- 
 out its noble virtues, and perhaps he would not, even if 
 he could, have surrendered the enjoyment of the hour for 
 the sake of the eternal heritage of a stainless fame. 
 
 Now it is precisely this quality of ideal goodness in 
 their respective spheres, and in relation to the light 
 that was given them, that makes the record of the lives 
 of such men as Sidney and Bayard so invaluable at the 
 present time. "What," said Edmund Burke, "is the 
 education of the generality of the world ? Eeading a 
 parcel of books ? No ! Restraint and discipline, ex- 
 amples of virtue and justice, these are what form the 
 education of the world." It is this need in the forma- 
 tion of character which is supplied by the biographies 
 of truly great men, and nowhere are noble qualities 
 more conspicuous than in the persons of these two 
 Knights of Chivalry. 
 
 It has been said that "the great need in modern 
 culture which is scientific in method, ratiocinative in 
 spirit, and utilitarian in purpose, is to find some effective 
 agency for cherishing within us the ideal ;"* and no more 
 likely means for attaining this object can be found than 
 in the histories of real men who, while having actually 
 existed and encountered the good and evil fortune of 
 life, have left reputations which are totally free from 
 stain or blot, and as pre-eminently noble as any fictitious 
 character which the imagination of novelists can produce. 
 
 * " The Study of Literature," by John Morley.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There is another point of view from which I think 
 their biographies will be of use to many. They both 
 lived in an age when faith was deeply implanted in the 
 hearts of all earnest men, when the old landmarks of 
 science, religion, and politics seem fixed and stable for 
 all ages, and the man who would have dreamt of im- 
 pugning either the existence of the Deity or the divine 
 right of kings would have been deemed a fanatical 
 revolutionist, and probably punished as a disturber of 
 the public weal. 
 
 It is not so now. The best and noblest among us 
 hardly know what they believe, and faith in the un- 
 seen seems to be as utterly lost to humanity as the art 
 which built the Pyramids on the desert sands of Egypt. 
 Progress is the watchword of the hour, but it is a pro- 
 gress to we know not what ; and in that universal habit 
 of critical examination into the basis of everything that 
 surrounds us, how many holy and beautiful ideas and 
 beliefs, which have been fondly cherished to our pleasure 
 and delight, will be seen to rest on foundations too 
 insecure ! how many hopes, which have cheered and 
 encouraged the weary and sorrowful in the hour of 
 trial and despair, will be found to be but the baseless 
 fantasies of enthusiasts and dreamers ! 
 
 Perhaps this phase of progress may be but the dark- 
 ness which precedes the dawn of a bright and a glorious 
 day. Let us hope that it may be so. But till that time 
 arrives, it will be an encouragement and a consolation 
 to some to read the lives of these men the one a
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 devout Catholic, implicitly believing in the doctrines of 
 the Church and relying on her for guidance, yet living 
 up to a law higher than one of human invention ; the 
 other an equally devout Protestant, by whom the light 
 and purity introduced by the Eeformation, which had 
 at last established its hold in England, was regarded as 
 sent from God, and to be cherished and protected with 
 his life-blood. And both alike in this, that they stead- 
 fastly believed in their respective faiths ; they felt no 
 painful questionings as to the worth or purpose of life, 
 or whether it had any value or purpose at all, but both 
 followed calmly and joyfully the path where duty called 
 them. That " Stern Daughter of the Voice of God" was 
 to them the rule of life, and they indeed knew nought 
 so fair as the smile upon her face when she cheered 
 their lagging spirits, and encouraged them to live up to 
 the full glory of the light that was in them. 
 
 Therefore it is that they are indeed heroes in the 
 truest sense of the term, for only a man with a brave 
 and enthusiastic faith in the high purpose of life, and 
 the eternal beauty of virtue and truth, can ever be a 
 great man ; and those who proceed with a doubtful and 
 questioning spirit and wavering step, are condemned 
 ever to wander in the dreary wilderness of doubt and 
 despair, and never to reach those lofty heights which 
 reveal the glory of the promised land. 
 
 Theirs was the age of Chivalry ; and what a crowd of 
 images and associations does that word bring to our 
 minds, like the breath of the mighty ocean, with its
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 freedom and its storms ! Do we not hear the sound 
 of martial music, and listen to the blowing of trumpets 
 and clank of arms, as the warriors muster beneath the 
 gloomy and turreted walls of their baronial castles for 
 the battle or the tourney ? Their crested helmets and 
 brilliant armour glitter in the light of the morning sun, 
 and the bright pennons of the knights flutter in the 
 breeze ; while their loud jest and laughter, the neighing 
 of the war-horses, and the sound of armed feet along the 
 paved terraces, give a sense of bustle and excitement to 
 the scene. Then might we have witnessed the splendid 
 pageantry of joust and tournament, when beauty, rank, 
 and valour met together to hold high festival, or listened 
 to the songs of bards and troubadours, and the stirring 
 narratives of noble deeds, with all the pomp and circum- 
 stance of a martial institution and a warlike age. 
 
 In the glowing words of Burke, Chivalry was " the 
 unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the 
 nurse of manly sentiments and heroic enterprise. 
 Never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty 
 to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified 
 obedience, that subordination of the heart which kept 
 alive even in servitude itself the spirit of an exalted 
 freedom that sensibility of principle, that chastity of 
 honour that felt a stain like a wound, which inspired 
 courage while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled 
 whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost 
 half its evil by losing all its grossness."
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 
 
 is an age in the life of nations, as in 
 that of individuals, when the buoyant spirit 
 of youth seems to pervade every thought 
 and action, when fanciful visions of gallantry 
 and adventure give to the ordinary events of life 
 the colour of poetry and romance, and when the great 
 world is still an unexplored country, peopled with fiery 
 dragons and alluring sirens, with beautiful princesses 
 enthralled by cruel tyrants waiting for the succour of 
 the gallant knight, an age when tales of the gold of 
 the Indies, the kingdom of Prester John,* or the rescue 
 of the Holy Sepulchre, animate alike the spirits of the 
 needy adventurer, the patriotic soldier, and the religious 
 enthusiast to deeds of lofty enterprise and daring, a 
 time when men appear to have engaged in the affairs of 
 
 * As described in "Allan Quatermain."
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 war, of love, and of friendship with a passionate heat 
 and excitement unknown to a calmer and more contem- 
 plative age, and when the world was as it were a great 
 playground, and they a mob of thoughtless schoolboys. 
 The blood seems to have coursed more quickly 
 through their veins; they quarrelled, loved, and swore 
 eternal friendship with an ardour which partakes of the 
 fire of youth, and they were ready to fight and die for 
 principles and dogmas the practical influence of which 
 we find it hard to understand. 
 
 Such, in the life of Greece, was the age of Homer, with 
 the deeds of Achilles and of Hector ; such, in the later 
 history of the nations of Europe, was the time between 
 the tenth and the fifteenth centuries, known as the 
 "Feudal Period." 
 
 It was the herioc age of Christendom, when the 
 haughty barons waged perpetual war, and humbled the 
 pride of kings and emperors ; when the Holy Crusades 
 for the rescue of the Saviour's Sepulchre from the hands 
 of the Infidel Turk brought the nobles of Europe and 
 Asia face to face. Then were the days of jousts and 
 tournaments, when knightly valour and prowess were 
 crowned by the hands of the Queen of Beauty ; when 
 minstrels and troubadours sang their lays, and brightened 
 the gloomy castle halls with the sound of harp and 
 song; and when, above all, those lofty virtues of the 
 noble Order of Chivalry and Knighthood shone abroad 
 as bright lights amid the darkness and despair of 
 universal ignorance and feudal oppression.
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 
 
 It is unnecessary to enter into all the particulars 
 of the state of society during the feudal period, the 
 peculiarities of which belong to the domain of history ; 
 but in order to correctly appreciate the lives and 
 characters of the heroes of that time, it is essential to 
 understand some of the characteristic differences which 
 distinguished the society of the middle ages from that 
 of modern times. One of the most beneficial effects of 
 the progress of civilisation is that universal supremacy 
 of law and order as exemplified by the head of the 
 State, which punishes all outrages, and protects the lives 
 and property of its subjects. This feeling of security 
 was, however, almost unknown at the period referred 
 to, as there was no central authority to which those 
 suffering from robbery or violence could appeal, and but 
 little power to enforce the very imperfect laws then 
 existing against those who were thus able to disobey 
 them with impunity. The king had, indeed, a formal 
 sovereignty over the whole of his dominions, and in the 
 hands of a powerful monarch like Charlemagne or 
 William the Conqueror this was the means of preserv- 
 ing a certain amount of tranquillity in their realms, 
 but a weaker or more indolent sovereign had but little 
 control over the powerful and turbulent barons who 
 were nominally his subjects. These were able to 
 exercise almost unlimited authority within their own 
 domains, and carried on wars with each other, and often 
 against their suzerain, without much interference from 
 any superior power.
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 A glance at a typical ancient feudal castle, of which 
 the best examples are those gloomy ruins still to be 
 seen along the banks of the Ehine, will help to explain 
 the independence of the great nobles. Situated usually 
 on the top of an eminence, the castle was surrounded 
 by a deep ditch or fosse, often filled with water, the 
 only passage over which was by a heavy drawbridge 
 
 which could be drawn up on the approach of the 
 enemy, thus closing the entrance. Beyond the fosse 
 was a massive wall, with turrets and loopholes for the 
 archers, and protected with machines for pouring down 
 stones and earth on the besiegers, and within this was 
 a broad quadrangle where the men-at-arms had ample 
 room for the practice of their knightly exercises. Above
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 
 
 the courtyard towered the lofty battlements and massive 
 walls of the castle, whose only windows were narrow 
 openings, through which darts and arrows could be dis- 
 charged without exposing the defenders to the fire of 
 the enemy ; while down below were the deep dungeons 
 in which the luckless prisoners were confined. Such a 
 fortress was, when properly defended, almost impreg- 
 nable at a time when artillery and gunpowder had not 
 been invented, and the only method of attack was by a 
 direct assault upon the walls. In the plains surround- 
 ing their lord's castle were usually the cottages of the 
 peasants and some of his inferior followers, over whom 
 he had absolute power, and whose position was little 
 better than that of slaves. 
 
 These warlike nobles were engaged in continual forays 
 into each other's estates, from which, unless prevented 
 in time, they carried away everything of value, and 
 burned and destroyed whatever could not be removed. 
 
 The roads and highways were infested by their 
 followers, who robbed and murdered any unfortunate 
 travellers or merchants who were unable to protect them- 
 selves, or had not sufficient money to pay the exorbitant 
 sums demanded for their ransom. It is told of a French 
 bishop, that, having appointed a new governor to one of 
 his castles without any apparent revenue, and being 
 asked how it was to be supported, he merely directed 
 the commander's attention to the fact that the castle 
 overlooked a place where four cross-roads met, and which 
 was consequently much frequented by merchants ; the
 
 6 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 obvious conclusion being that the revenue was to be 
 derived by levying black-mail on the unfortunate 
 travellers who had to pass that way. This is a fair 
 sample of the manner in which these robbers' dens were 
 kept up, and gives considerable insight into the habits 
 of the time. 
 
 The treatment of those who had the misfortune to 
 fall into their hands was brutal in the extreme. By the 
 recognised laws of war, the life and property of the 
 vanquished, even when of noble rank, were at the disposal 
 of the conqueror ; and when the captive was of inferior 
 birth, he was confined in the darkest dungeon, and 
 ruthlessly tortured till he consented to give the ransom 
 which the avarice or caprice of his captor dictated, and 
 in case he was unable to do this, he was allowed to 
 languish away in hopeless captivity. 
 
 All who were not sufficiently powerful to defend 
 themselves from these lawless depredations were obliged 
 to put themselves under the protection of some power- 
 ful noble, in return for which they were bound to give 
 him their service in war. As a consequence of this, the 
 castles of most of the great barons were filled with a 
 regular army of gentlemen and men-at-arms, ready to 
 fight their master's battles against all comers, and to 
 engage in any expeditions with him or his allies. The 
 habits of these rough soldiers during their short intervals 
 of peace were not much better than in time of war. 
 Few of them could either read or write, and they were 
 totally devoid of learning of any sort, except that con-
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 
 
 nected with their military service ; so that when a hard 
 fate condemned them to remain for a time peacefully 
 within their castle walls, the weary hours were passed 
 in drunken feasts and debauchery. 
 
 The only check upon these semi-barbarous nobles was 
 the restraining power of religion and superstition, and 
 in a state of society such as theirs, this was necessarily 
 of little avail to curb the violence of unlicensed freedom. 
 
 The more gentle and refined nature of woman, which 
 has ever been one of the strongest allies on the side of 
 mercy and peace, was at this time able to effect but 
 little amongst those whose daily occupations removed 
 them so far beyond the sphere of female influence ; and 
 the barons' wives, confined to their gloomy chambers in 
 the castles, with no authority except over their maids 
 and pages, could do but little to soften and ameliorate 
 the habits of warriors trained to violence and slaughter, 
 and loving the draught of the wine-cup and the gluttony 
 of the feast more than their ladies' smiles and prattle. 
 
 The condition of the nobles in England, France, and 
 Germany, which in these respects were much alike, 
 must have been rough and unpleasant enough ; but that 
 of the lower orders was one of considerable hardship, 
 while the serfs and peasants were kept in a state of 
 oppression and tyranny. The feudal lord had complete 
 dominion over the latter, and even over his followers of 
 rank he had privileges which could be used with great 
 rigour. The principal of these were the rights of ward- 
 ship and marriage, by the former of which he was
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 entitled to the revenue from the property of any vassal 
 who was a minor, and by the latter he had the right to 
 offer any unmarried female vassal the choice of a husband 
 from among three men, one of whom she was bound to 
 accept, the only valid excuse being that she was over 
 sixty years of age. 
 
 Such was the state of society at the end of the eleventh 
 century, when a new and strange factor, destined for 
 many years to exercise extraordinary influence over the 
 people of Christendom, appeared on the scene, and this is 
 what has been known to succeeding ages as the "Crusades." 
 
 At this time the Turks had for some years held pos- 
 session of Jerusalem, and harrowing tales of the cruelties 
 and outrages perpetrated by them upon Christian pilgrims 
 on the way to visit the Holy Sepulchre had been from 
 time to time brought back to Europe, and inflamed the 
 minds of the people of Christendom against the Saracen 
 invader. Their indignation was at length brought to 
 a head in 1095 by the preaching of Peter the Hermit, 
 who journeyed from land to land proclaiming a holy war 
 against the infidel. The vast assembly at Clermont re- 
 sponded to the fiery eloquence of the warlike monk with 
 one unanimous shout, " It is the will of God." Every- 
 where the greatest enthusiasm prevailed, and, encouraged 
 by the blessing of the Pope, an immense multitude, com- 
 posed of nobles, priests, peasants, and even women and 
 children, assembled for the rescue of the Saviour's 
 Sepulchre, believing that by taking the Cross they were 
 absolved from the most heinous sins.
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 
 
 The difficulties to be encountered were enormous, and 
 in an age when transport and railway communication 
 were unknown, and the long journey had to be per- 
 formed for the most part on foot, thousands of those who 
 set out never reached Palestine at all. But the courage 
 and fanaticism of those who survived made them for 
 the time victorious ; the power of the Crescent waned 
 before the heroic valour of the soldiers of the Cross, 
 and the Christian lances, often encountering tremendous 
 odds, bore all before them from Nice to Antioch, Edessa, 
 and Jerusalem. Even after these successes, however, 
 the position of the Crusaders was extremely critical, 
 surrounded on all sides by the Turkish hordes who had 
 already begun to press towards Constantinople, and 
 situated, as they were, at the outpost of Christendom, far 
 away from the succour and resources of their own 
 nations. Thousands of the warriors died every year by 
 the pestilence or the sword, so that in 1147 a second 
 Crusade was organised by the Emperor and the King 
 of France for the relief of those who had gone before. 
 This expedition was, however, more unfortunate than 
 the first, and the immense army of two hundred thousand 
 cavalry wasted away in the passage of Natolia. 
 
 The accession of the renowned Saladiii to the throne 
 of Egypt in 1187 completed the misfortunes of the 
 Crusaders, who were driven out of almost every part of 
 Palestine by his victorious arms. It was this blow 
 which once more aroused the Princes of Europe to make 
 the third and great Crusade, undertaken in 1189 by the
 
 10 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 three sovereigns, the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, 
 Philip Augustus of France, and King Eichard the Lion- 
 hearted of England. This was the Crusade in which 
 Kichard performed those acts of heroism and valour 
 which made him the terror of the Moslem armies, and 
 famous throughout Europe and Asia ; but, like the pre- 
 ceding enterprises, it failed of any permanent effect, and 
 the Crusaders, divided by internal dissensions, were 
 obliged to return home, leaving the Holy Sepulchre once 
 more to fall into the hands of the Turks, with whom it 
 has remained ever since. 
 
 The Crusades, though they effected little of the pur- 
 pose for which they were intended, and made no per- 
 manent conquests in Asia, reacted in a wonderful way 
 upon the nations of Europe themselves. It was through 
 these expeditions that the rough and semi-barbarous 
 Christian nobles were brought into contact with the 
 superior refinement and civilisation of the Eastern 
 nations, from whom they learnt a sense of courtesy 
 and honour before uncommon in Europe, which in- 
 sensibly affected the manners and customs even of those 
 who had remained at home. The inferior nobility, who 
 in their own country were kept in subjection by their 
 feudal lords, were able in a strange land, and fighting 
 with their superiors against a common foe, to obtain by 
 their own prowess and valour a position and reputation 
 which made them almost independent, and went far to 
 establish and strengthen that Order of Chivalry which 
 was distinct from mere hereditary rank or power, and
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 11 
 
 the object of which was to obtain the honour of knight- 
 hood by great and noble deeds. 
 
 Another important factor in the improvement of 
 manners was the birth of a national literature, through 
 the songs and poems of the miostrels and troubadours. 
 At a time when complete ignorance of the classical 
 languages prevailed, and all learning was confined to 
 the priesthood, the narratives of the exploits of the 
 Crusaders in the Holy Land, and of the Knights- 
 errant at home, about which the Provencal troubadours 
 composed verses which they sang from castle to castle 
 throughout the land, diffused a romantic love of ad- 
 venture, and the fame of gallant and noble actions, which 
 did much towards softening the harsh manners of the 
 barons, and giving birth to sentiments which the clergy 
 and ladies were not slow to encourage by every means 
 in their power. The first-fruits of European imagination, 
 the first attempts at poetry and of literature, the first 
 intellectual pleasures tasted by Europe on its quitting 
 barbarism, were born under the sheltering wings of 
 Feudalism in the interior of the baronial castles, and 
 they mark the first appearance of that heroic age of 
 modern nations. 
 
 Thus we have seen that, in its earliest stage, the 
 Feudal state was one of almost perpetual war, rapine, 
 and anarchy, during which the weak and unarmed 
 were exposed to insults and injuries. The power of 
 the sovereign was too limited to prevent these wrongs, and 
 the administration of justice too feeble to redress them.
 
 12 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 The most effectual protection against violence and 
 oppression was often found to be that which the valour 
 and generosity of individual knights afforded. The 
 same spirit ot enterprise which had prompted so many 
 gentlemen to take arms in defence of the oppressed 
 pilgrims in Palestine, incited others to declare themselves 
 the patrons and avengers of injured innocence at home. 
 
 When the final reduction of the Holy Land under the 
 dominion of the Turks put an end to those foreign ex- 
 peditions, the romantic adventures encouraged by the 
 institution of Chivalry were the only employment left 
 for the activity and courage of the nobles. 
 
 It was then the happy idea occurred of founding a 
 distinct Order whose highest aim and duty would be to
 
 THE FEUDAL PERIOD. 13 
 
 tight the battle for freedom and justice against tyranny 
 and oppression, and all who thenceforth aspired to the 
 rank of knighthood were required to bind themselves by 
 the most solemn vows and imposing ceremonies to assist 
 each other in furthering the great cause. To check the 
 influence of overgrown oppressors, to rescue the helpless 
 from Captivity, to protect or to avenge women, orphans, 
 and ecclesiastics who could not bear arms in their own 
 defence, to redress wrongs and remove grievances, were 
 deemed acts of the highest prowess and merit ; and at a 
 time when the people were helpless and oppressed, the 
 whole social state must have collapsed and ended in 
 barbarous anarchy, had it not been for the lofty prin- 
 ciples and noble deeds of the heroes of this great Order, 
 which was destined to revolutionise society, and to 
 produce the highest examples of knightly virtue, and 
 those honourable sentiments which a later age associates 
 with the name of gentleman. Chivalry was itself the 
 daughter of Feudalism, which, by preserving the bond 
 between the semi-independent nobles and their sovereign, 
 and diffusing that peculiar sentiment of personal rever- 
 ence and attachment to him which we call loyalty, 
 maintained, at a time when the boundaries of nations 
 and countries had not become clearly defined, the mutual 
 relations of all, and kept alive the feeling of a common 
 country and common duties which was destined to 
 settle, after the lapse of ages, into the free constitution 
 of England, the firm monarchy of France, and the federal 
 union of Germany.
 
 WINDSOR CASTLE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 
 
 HERE are three powerful ideas which 
 have at different epochs revolutionised 
 the world, and these are Religion, Liberty, 
 and Honour. It is the spirit of Religion 
 whose hand we see in the great work of 
 the Reformation, as well as in many other struggles for 
 purity of worship. The spirit of Liberty has been 
 manifested in the History of England, in that stern and 
 continuous resistance to oppression, from the days of 
 Magna Charta to those of the Revolution, which at length 
 won for us a constitutional government ; and these vic- 
 tories have had their counterpart in the annals of other 
 nations, and it is this spirit which is still the motive 
 power in the work of regenerating mankind. But it
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 15 
 
 was the lofty spirit of Honour from which emanated 
 that noble Order of Chivalry of which we are about to 
 treat ; and whatever glorious victories in the history of 
 the world the love of religion and liberty has gained 
 for the cause of truth and freedom in the great battle 
 against falsehood and tyranny, have been equalled by 
 the high and magnanimous feelings, the noble and 
 unselfish valour, and the pure and lofty sentiments 
 which the exquisite sense of honour inculcated by this 
 institution has preserved for the benefit of humanity in 
 all subsequent ages. 
 
 The Order of Chivalry grew up gradually within the 
 bosom of feudal society, in the manner related in the 
 preceding chapter ; and by it was established through- 
 out Europe a distinct class of nobility almost indepen- 
 dent, as to its rights and dignities, of any particular 
 sovereign. Admission to this by the reception of the 
 Order of Knighthood was considered superior to any 
 rank or title conferred by hereditary descent, and it 
 could only be given to those gentlemen by birth who 
 had distinguished themselves by some great and noble 
 exploit. Even kings desired to obtain this distinction, 
 and Francis I. received, as will be hereafter related, the 
 honour of knighthood on the field of battle from the 
 hands of the greatest knight of his time, the immortal 
 Bayard. 
 
 The custom was for the inferior nobility to send at 
 an early age their younger sons, who had no estates of 
 their own, to the court of one of the great princes, where
 
 16 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 they were trained as pages till they were fourteen years 
 old, after which they became squires. They were then 
 instructed in the management of arms, in the art of 
 horsemanship, and in exercises of strength and activity. 
 They became accustomed to obedience and courteous 
 demeanour, serving their lord and lady in offices which 
 had not yet become derogatory to honourable birth. 
 Thus placed in the centre of all that could awaken 
 their imaginations, they were instructed in the creed of 
 chivalrous gallantry and honour, and, panting for glory 
 which neither their strength nor the established rules 
 permitted them to anticipate, the young scions of 
 chivalry attended their masters to the tournament or 
 battle, and rivetted with a sigh the armour they were 
 forbidden to wear. Arrived at manhood, it was their 
 constant ambition to win their golden spurs and the 
 honour of knighthood by some noble deed, so that even 
 those who were in a position to obtain that dignity often 
 deferred it for the great part of their lives, in the hope 
 of signalising their investiture by some eminent exploit. 
 
 By these means men were trained to knighthood, 
 which was coveted by every person of noble birth, and 
 deemed a distinction superior to royalty, which mon- 
 archs were proud to receive, by a long previous discipline, 
 and they were admitted into the Order by solemnities 
 the most devout and imposing. 
 
 The squire who aspired to the honour of knighthood, 
 and was considered worthy to receive it, was vouched 
 for by two elderly and renowned knights, who first
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 17 
 
 caused him to be divested of his clothes and bathed, as 
 a symbol of purification. After this he was clothed in 
 a white tunic signifying purity, a red robe as a token 
 of the blood he was bound to shed in the service of the 
 faith, and in a black cloak to remind him of the death 
 which awaited him as well as all men. Thus purified 
 and clothed, the recipient observed a rigorous fast for 
 twenty-four hours, after which, in the evening, he was 
 brought to the church, where he passed the night in 
 prayer, sometimes alone, sometimes with the priest and 
 his sponsors. 
 
 The following day his first act was confession, and 
 the priest having performed the service, and administered 
 the holy communion, the most eminent knight present 
 delivered a discourse upon the duties of Chivalry and 
 the new life he was about to enter, at the conclusion of 
 which the recipient was led to the altar, where his sword 
 was blessed by the priest, and he was then required 
 to kneel down and swear the following solemn oaths : 
 
 1. To fear, reverence, and serve God ; to fight for the 
 faith against the infidel, and die a thousand deaths 
 rather than renounce Christianity. 
 
 2. To serve his sovereign faithfully, to fight for him 
 and his country, and not to take service with a foreign 
 prince. 
 
 3. To maintain the just right of widows, orphans, 
 and maidens; to hold himself in readiness to protect 
 them, and never to do them violence, even when 
 captured by force of arms.
 
 18 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 4. Never to offend any one maliciously, nor usurp 
 the just rights of another; and not to perform any 
 action for the sake of profit or reward, but only for that 
 of honour and virtue. 
 
 5. To obey all who had a right to command him, and 
 to respect the rank and honour of his companions in 
 arms, and to maintain their cause in their absence. 
 
 6. Not to fight more than one against one ; to avoid 
 all fraud and deceit, and, in a combat a plaisance, never 
 to use the point of the sword. 
 
 7. If taken prisoner, to faithfully observe the condi- 
 tions of surrender, and return to captivity if the stipu- 
 lated ransom could not be paid. 
 
 8. To serve and honour his lady-love faithfully and 
 constantly, and lay all the trophies gained by his valour 
 at her feet. 
 
 9. If he made a vow to engage in any adventure, to 
 apply himself to it till accomplished; and when in 
 pursuit of it, not to turn from the straight road for fear 
 of encountering any impediment which the valour of a 
 single knight could overcome. 
 
 10. When returned from any quest, to give a true 
 account of all that had befallen him, even when it was 
 to his disadvantage. 
 
 11. When in command of troops, to preserve order 
 and discipline, and do his utmost to mitigate the 
 horrors of warfare. 
 
 12. When sought in equal combat, not to refuse, 
 except on account of wounds, illness, or other just cause.
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 19 
 
 13. Above all things, to be faithful, courteous, and 
 honourable, and never to break his word for any cause 
 whatever. 
 
 Having taken these vows, the applicant was led to 
 the lord who was to confer the Order, before whom he 
 knelt down, and who asked him, " With what design 
 do you desire to enter into the noble Order of Chivalry? 
 If it is to become rich, to enjoy yourself, or to be 
 honoured without doing honour to Chivalry, you are 
 unworthy of it, and can never enter into the company 
 of knights." Upon the suitable reply of the recipient, 
 and his promise to acquit himself well of his knightly 
 duties, the lord then summoned the attendant knights 
 and ladies, who put on the golden spurs, the hauberk 
 or coat of mail, the cuirass and gauntlets, and girded 
 on the new knight's sword. When this was finished, 
 the lord rose, and, giving him three blows on the shoulder 
 with the flat of his sword, repeated the formula " In 
 the name of God, of St. Michael, and of St. George, I dub 
 thee knight. Be brave, adventurous, and loyal." This 
 completed the ceremony, after which the knight's squire 
 handed him his plumed helmet and led up his charger, 
 upon which he sprang without the aid of stirrups, and 
 the whole party left in solemn procession. 
 
 The ceremonies related above comprised the full 
 solemnities of investiture, but, of course, it was often 
 impossible to carry them out completely, and the Order 
 could be granted by the accolade, or act of dubbing, 
 alone.
 
 20 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 This admission to the Order of Chivalry entitled the 
 knight to assume the crested helmet proper to his 
 new rank, the weighty armour of mail or plate bearing 
 his heraldic coat, the gilded spurs, and horse barbed 
 with iron for war, and clothed in housings of gold upon 
 more peaceful occasions. He used richer silks and 
 more costly furs than were permitted to squires, and 
 scarlet was the colour appropriated by his Order. But 
 the chief privilege was his reception into the common- 
 wealth of Chivalry, entitling him to the peculiar rights 
 of knighthood in almost every country in Europe, and 
 to enter in the List of Tournaments against the other 
 members of the Order. It thus raised him in the scale 
 of society, putting him on a level in dress, arms, and 
 title with the rich landowners ; and as it was due to his 
 own personal merit, it did much more than make him 
 equal with those who had no pretensions but from 
 wealth or title. 
 
 The four cardinal virtues inculcated by the insti- 
 tution were Valour, Loyalty, Courtesy, and Munificence. 
 Loyalty in this sense included fidelity to all engagements 
 both actual promises and tacit obligations whether 
 towards the Sovereign or the lady whom the knight 
 served. 
 
 Breach of faith was held a disgrace, and treachery, 
 whether to friend or foe, the most infamous of vices. 
 A knight was unfit to remain a member of the Order if 
 he violated his faith; he was ill acquainted with its 
 duties if he proved wanting in courtesy, which com-
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 21 
 
 prised not only that ceremonious politeness peculiar to 
 the time, but also the spontaneous modesty, self-denial, 
 and respect for others which ought to spring from the 
 heart. Liberality and disdain of money, as one of the 
 virtues, taught the duty of scattering their wealth with 
 profusion, especially towards minstrels, pilgrims, and 
 the poorer members of the Order, the last of whom had 
 a constant right of succour from the opulent. In 
 addition to these noble qualities, the character of the 
 perfect knight was expected to display an active sense 
 of justice, an ardent indignation against wrong, the 
 direction of courage to its best end, the prevention or 
 redress of injury. 
 
 Such were the qualities required to be displayed by 
 the true knight ; and anyone who, being admitted into 
 the Order, openly exposed his unfitness for its duties by 
 cowardice, breach of faith, discourtesy, or avarice, was 
 liable to instant degradation and deprivation of all his 
 high privileges. The ceremony of degradation was 
 solemn in the extreme. The recreant knight was 
 publicly tried by his peers, and, if condemned, was 
 led into the church where he had received the honour, 
 and there the cause of his disgrace was proclaimed to 
 all. His golden spurs were then hacked off, his sword 
 broken over his head, and he was divested of his armour 
 piece by piece, which was immediately destroyed, as 
 being unfit for any true knight to wear. After this, he 
 was led away to undergo whatever punishment had 
 been determined upon, and false, perjured, disloyal,
 
 22 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 recreant were the names henceforth applied to him who 
 had proved himself unworthy of his high calling. 
 
 The principles inculcated by this wonderful insti- 
 tution were, of course, much better laid down in theory 
 
 than carried out in practice ; but they effected an extra- 
 ordinary improvement in the habits of the people of 
 that period, and in no way is this better exemplified
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 23 
 
 than in the milder treatment of prisoners, and the miti- 
 gation of the horrors of barbarous warfare. As personal 
 rather than national feelings animated the knights of 
 different countries, they never felt that hatred, much 
 less that fear of their enemies which are the chief 
 incitements to treachery, and in their wars, originating 
 in no real animosity, the spirit of honourable as well as 
 courteous behaviour towards the foe, of which several 
 instances will be given hereafter, was invariably exer- 
 cised by the leaders on both sides. The behaviour of 
 The Black Prince to King John of France after the 
 defeat and capture of the latter at the Battle of Poitiers 
 is well known. While he did everything in his power to 
 lessen the sorrow of defeat and imprisonment, and 
 endeavoured to cheer his royal captive by praising his 
 heroic valour, he himself waited on his prisoner at 
 meals, saying that it ill became him to sit down in the 
 presence of majesty. 
 
 Edward III. and his noble son were eminent ex- 
 amples of chivalrous virtue among the princes of 
 their day, but the inferior nobility were no less gener- 
 ous in their treatment of the vanquished. "After the 
 Battle of Poitiers," says the historian Froissart, "the 
 English and Gascon knights having entertained their 
 prisoners, each of them went home with the knights or 
 squires he had captured, whom he then questioned 
 upon their honour what ransom they could pay without 
 inconvenience, and believed them without further proof; 
 and it was common for men to say that they would not
 
 24 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 straiten any knight or squire so that he would not be 
 able to live well and maintain an honourable appearance." 
 At a time when the life of the vanquished was deemed 
 forfeited to the conqueror such generosity is the more 
 remarkable, especially as permission to the prisoners to 
 return home for the purpose of procuring the ransom 
 agreed upon was never refused, and this indulgence 
 could only have been founded upon an experienced 
 confidence in the knightly honour of the captives. 
 
 The strong tincture of religion which pervaded the 
 entire composition of Chivalry, and entered into all its 
 ceremonies, was partly derived from the time of the 
 first Crusade, when the great object placed before the 
 warlike nobles was the rescue of the Holy Land from 
 the dominion of the infidel. And a no less remarkable 
 ingredient was the universal respect and homage paid to 
 the female sex. The position of women in the early part 
 of the feudal period, when rude and barbarous manners 
 prevailed, was one of almost complete isolation and 
 subjection to the stronger sex ; but the spirit of gallantry 
 which became so animating a principle of Chivalry was 
 the cause of the progressive refinement of society ; and 
 as woman obtained more scope to practise those fascinat- 
 ing graces with which nature has endowed her, she was 
 able to counterbalance the want of that physical strength 
 and energy which belong to man. 
 
 As the taste for the more elegant enjoyments of wealth 
 arose among the nobility who were, of course, the first 
 to experience the softening effects of the principles of the
 
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 25 
 
 knightly Order woman obtained an influence at first in 
 the lighter hour, but afterwards in the more serious 
 occupations of life, and was able to bring into subjection 
 the god of wine, and the rude spirits of the uncultured 
 warriors. One of the chief duties of the knight was that 
 of devotion to his lady, and from this arose a spirit of 
 gallantry, often indeed too amorous, but which had a 
 beneficial effect upon the manners of the age. Even the 
 harsh spirit of the laws sometimes recognised this general 
 homage to the fair sex, and in the Kingdom of Arragon 
 it was enacted that " Every man, whether of knightly 
 rank or no, who should be travelling in company with 
 a lady, should be permitted by all to pass free and 
 unmolested, unless he had been guilty of the crime of 
 murder." 
 
 There is no better statement of the leading principles 
 of Chivalry than that given by Tennyson's King Arthur, 
 who made his knights swear 
 
 "To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, 
 To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, 
 To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, 
 To honour his own word as if his God's, 
 To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, 
 To love one maiden only, cleave to her, 
 And worship her by years of noble deeds, 
 Until they won her ; for indeed I knew 
 Of no more subtle master under heaven 
 Than is the maiden passion for a maid, 
 Not only to keep down the base in man, 
 But teach high thought, and amiable words 
 And courtliness, and the desire of fame, 
 And love of truth, and all that makes a man."
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Besides the powerful efficacy with which the poetry 
 and romance of the time stimulated those susceptible 
 minds which were alive to no other literature, gne of 
 the principal causes tending to the promotion of Chivalry 
 was those splendid pageants called Tournaments. The 
 period was essentially warlike, and the very sports of 
 the nobles were mimic battles. Every scenic perform- 
 ance of modern times must be tame in comparison with 
 
 these alluring spectacles, wheu all the valour and beauty 
 of the country met together to enjoy what was almost 
 the only amusement of the age. At a tournament, a 
 space was enclosed within the lists somewhat after the 
 manner of a modern circus, and around this rose tier 
 after tier of seats, like an amphitheatre, which were filled 
 by sovereign princes and their noblest barons, while 
 knights of established renown and all the most dis- 
 tinguished rank and beauty of the kingdom crowded
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 27 
 
 around. A Queen of Beauty was first chosen from the 
 most beautiful ladies present, who was honoured as the 
 Sovereign of the Tournament, led to the central seat on 
 the grand stand, and surrounded by a bevy of ladies 
 and courtiers. Outside the lists the knightly com- 
 batants were seen clothed in steel, and known only by 
 their emblazoned shields, or the favours and coloured 
 scarves of their ladies a still prouder emblem. They 
 
 advanced singly, each mounted 011 a gaily caparisoned 
 charger, and armed with a long lance of wood or iron, 
 with which he struck the shield of the opponent he 
 wished to encounter. 
 
 If, as was usually the case, the shield was struck with 
 the handle of the lance, the combat was to be merely 
 a plaisance, or with blunt weapons ; but if it was struck 
 with the pointed end, then it was to be a outrance, or 
 with sharp weapons as in actual battle. When the
 
 28 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 joust was to commence, the trumpets were sounded, and 
 a knight entered at each end of the lists, and at a given 
 signal both galloped forward with lances pointed 
 straight at the strong armour of the other's breast, as 
 described by Chaucer, the Father of English Poetry : 
 
 " The heralds leave off riding up and down, 
 Now ring the trumpets loud and clarion. 
 There is no more to say, but East and West 
 In go the spears full proudly in the rest, 
 In go the sharp spurs into the side, 
 Then see we who can joust and who can ride. 
 The shivering shafts upon the shieldes thick, 
 He feeleth this the plate of steel to prick ; 
 Up spring the spears twenty feet in height, 
 Out go the swords as is the silver bright. " 
 
 At the end of the tournament the prizes were 
 awarded to the victors by the Queen of Beauty, and in 
 case the victorious champion's lady whose badge he 
 wore was present, it was customary for him to proclaim 
 his homage by laying the trophy won by his valour 
 and prowess at her feet. 
 
 Victory in a tournament was little less glorious, and 
 perhaps at the moment more exquisitely felt, than in 
 the actual field of battle, since no real conflict could 
 assemble such witnesses of valour. " Honour to the 
 sons of the brave " resounded amid the din of martial 
 music from the lips of the minstrels and heralds, as the 
 conqueror advanced to receive the prize from the Queen 
 of Beauty; while the surrounding multitude acknow- 
 ledged in his prowess of that day an augury of triumphs 
 that might in more serious contests be blended with
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 29 
 
 those of his country. Though the weapons used by the 
 combatants were usually pointless and sometimes only 
 of wood, and though they were bound by the laws 
 of tournament to strike upon the strong armour of the 
 trunk only, these impetuous conflicts often terminated 
 in wounds and death, of which an unfortunate instance 
 was the too true stroke of the Scottish Captain Mont- 
 gomery when tilting with Henry II. of France in 1559, 
 when the head of his lance, striking the king through 
 the bars of the helmet, inflicted a mortal wound, from 
 which he died in a few days. This sad event caused the 
 practice of tournaments to be discontinued in France, 
 but they were held in England for many years after. 
 
 Another of these splendid pageants was the Courts of 
 Chivalry, which met at appointed times with great pomp 
 and ceremony to decide disputed questions of honour 
 or conduct between the knights, and exercised a bene- 
 ficial authority by preserving a high standard of action, 
 to which every knight was expected to attain, and by 
 which his conduct was to be regulated in all cases of 
 difficulty. To these courts belonged also the settlement 
 of all differences arising between knights and their 
 ladies, though, when such were to be heard, the tribunal 
 was usually constituted in rather a different form by 
 the admission of lady judges, and they were then called 
 Courts of Love. To them appeal was made to decide 
 upon the loyalty of a knight to his lady, or her loyalty 
 to him, or such disputes as might take place between 
 rival knights for the affections of the same lady ; and
 
 30 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 from the decisions of these courts there was no appeal, 
 so that all true knights were bound in honour to abide 
 by them, and assist in carrying their decisions into effect. 
 
 A great result of the success of Chivalry was the 
 foundation and progress of the Military Orders of 
 Soldier Monks formed in imitation of it, but whose 
 object was the protection of Palestine in the wars with 
 the Turks. The principal of these Orders were the 
 Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem founded 
 in 1118, and the Knights Templars founded in 1124, 
 the members of both of which were leagued together to 
 fight for the Cross, and were governed on the principle 
 of fraternal equality, at the head of each Order there 
 being an elective Grand Master having supreme and 
 absolute authority. 
 
 The members were ail soldiers of reputation, and 
 were vowed to celibacy; and such progress did the 
 Orders make, that some years after their foundation 
 each numbered several thousand members, and they 
 possessed immense wealth and property in every 
 country in Europe. The chief centre of the Hospitallers 
 of St. John was in the Island of Ehodes till 1522, 
 when they were attacked by the Sultan Solyman with 
 a large army, which at length compelled them to 
 surrender after twenty thousand Turks had been slain. 
 Shortly after this they established themselves in Malta, 
 and although their power had long before declined, 
 they remained there till 1798, when they were ousted 
 by Napoleon Bonaparte, and the Order practically
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 31 
 
 destroyed. From them are derived the Orders of the 
 Masonic Brotherhood, whose rules and precepts, suited 
 to the changed manners and requirements of modern 
 times, aim at carrying out the fundamental principles 
 of their warlike predecessors. 
 
 Such is a slight sketch of Chivalry as an institution 
 in which gallantry and religion were so strangely 
 blended, and which was so skilfully adapted to the taste 
 and genius of the martial nobles, and whose effects were 
 so soon visible in their manners. War, we have seen, was 
 carried on with less ferocity when humanity came to be 
 deemed the ornament of knighthood no less than courage. 
 More gentle and polished manners were introduced 
 when courtesy was recommended as the most amiable 
 of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression decreased 
 when it was reckoned meritorious to check and punish 
 them. A scrupulous adherence to truth, with the most 
 religious attention to fulfil every engagement, became 
 distinguishing characteristics of a gentleman, because 
 Chivalry was regarded as the school of honour, and 
 inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to 
 these points. The admiration of these qualities, to- 
 gether with the distinction and prerogatives conferred 
 on knighthood in every country in Europe, inspired 
 persons of noble birth with the principles of generosity 
 and honour, and these were strengthened by everything 
 that could affect the senses or touch the heart. 
 
 But Chivalry, like every other institution, was destined 
 sooner or later to decay, and even before the time of
 
 32 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Bayard it had begun to decline. The more organised 
 state of society, the growth of the knightly authority, 
 and the loss of that independence which characterised 
 the feudal nobility, and which was essential to the 
 preservation of a distinct Order of Knighthood, were 
 among the causes of this decline; but the chief one 
 was the invention of gunpowder, which, by destroying 
 the protection afforded by coats of mail, at the same 
 time did away with the superiority of the knights, who, 
 completely clothed in armour which protected them 
 from the spears and arrows of the foot soldiers, had 
 been able to perform deeds of individual valour, and 
 singly decide the fate of battles in a manner which 
 afterwards became impossible. 
 
 The Order of Chivalry was the morning star which was 
 to usher in a glorious day. The poetry of the troubadours 
 and minnesingers was the first fruits of that splendid re- 
 vival of learning,and of the arts known as the Renaissance, 
 which in literature was to produce such noble names as 
 those of Shakspere, Milton, and Spenser ; and in art, 
 such as Leonardo, Michael Angelo, and Raffcclle. 
 
 The virtues of Chivalry, which were at first confined 
 to a limited class the nobility, were destined in the 
 wider enlightenment introduced by the Reformation to 
 spread abroad over the whole world, and embrace all 
 humanity in the doctrine of the universal emancipation 
 of mankind. But the sentiments which the Order 
 inspired were so deeply rooted, that they continued to 
 operate long after the vigour and reputation of the
 
 THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 33 
 
 institution itself had declined ; and many of the most 
 eminent persons of later years were so strongly tinc- 
 tured with its romantic spirit, that their characters and 
 achievements cannot be understood without a know- 
 ledge of the source from which they derived their 
 inspiration. And the spirit of Chivalry left behind it 
 a more valuable successor. The character of knight 
 gradually subsided into that of gentleman, and the one 
 distinguishes Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth 
 centuries as much as the other did in preceding ages. 
 A jealous sense of honour, less romantic but equally 
 elevated ; a ceremonious gallantry and politeness; a strict- 
 ness in devotional observances ; a sympathy for martial 
 honour, and a feeling of independence and self-respect 
 which undoubtedly sprang originally from the high pride 
 of birth these are some of the lineaments which, in a 
 period more subdued by peaceful habits, prove an indis- 
 putable descent from the ideal knights of olden times. 
 
 In Bayard we shall see the model of the perfect 
 soldier-knight, with his patriotic valour, his gentle 
 courtesy, his munificence and generosity to all ; and 
 these are manifested in an age still warlike and dis- 
 turbed, but the wars are now between nations, and not 
 between the powerful barons as formerly. 
 
 In Sidney we have the transition from the ideal knight 
 to the noble and chivalrous gentleman almost completed; 
 but the lofty and magnanimous sentiments which 
 animate him are the same as those which inspired the 
 heroes of Chivalry two hundred years before. We see
 
 34 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY 
 
 that the men and their principles are the same, but in 
 an altered dress, and suited to the changed character 
 of the times. 
 
 In these two noble names we have the most perfect 
 examples of the virtues of Chivalry ; and it seems as if 
 these virtues, after growing and expanding with the 
 wider knowledge and truer enlightenment of a higher 
 state of civilisation, had, in them, at length burst forth 
 in their full glory to be exemplars for all time of the 
 national characters of a French Knight and an English 
 Gentleman.
 
 THE CHEVALIER BAYAKD, 
 
 A HERO OF FRANCE. 
 
 " Indeed he seems to me 
 Scarce other than my own ideal knight, 
 Who reverenced his conscience as his king ; 
 Whose glory was redressing human wrong ; 
 Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it." 
 
 Idylls of the King.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AS PAGE AND SQUIRE. 
 
 IERRE DU TEERAIL, commonly called 
 Bayard, was born in the year 1476, at the 
 family castle, near the Grande Chartreuse, 
 in the Province of Dauphine, where the 
 ruins of the ancient chateau may still be 
 seen. He was descended from one of the noblest families 
 in the Province, and his ancestors had been renowned 
 as brave soldiers in the wars of their country for gener- 
 ations before, his great-grandfather having been killed 
 at the Battle of Poitiers, and his grandfather in that of 
 Agin court. 
 
 His father, Aymond du Terrail, who was noted for 
 his great strength and stature, was also a good soldier, 
 and had been severely wounded in the wars of Louis 
 XI. He trained the future Chevalier in manly exercises 
 and active habits, whilst his mother, who seems to have 
 been a lady of deep piety and religious feeling, taught 
 him that respect for the observances of their faith and 
 the modest and kindly manners which characterised his 
 after life. 
 
 Of his boyhood, and the years spent beneath the 
 paternal roof, we have no record, except that at an early
 
 38 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 age he seems to have been remarkable for his gentle 
 demeanour and skill in horsemanship. When thirteen 
 years old, having chosen to follow the profession of 
 arms, he was sent as a page to the Court of the Duke 
 of Savoy, to be trained in all the accomplishments of 
 Chivalry, according to the custom of the times. Here 
 he zealously applied himself, as became an aspirant to 
 knightly honours, to learn all the exercises of arms 
 and arts of pleasure suitable to the scion of a noble 
 house. 
 
 When he had been some months at the Duke's 
 castle the latter went to Lyons, where Charles VIII., 
 King of France, for the time held his Court. This visit 
 had an important bearing on the life of our hero, for the 
 Count de Ligni, one of the lords-in-waiting, having 
 observed his manly and graceful bearing, informed the 
 King, who requested him to take the young page into 
 his service. This was, of course, considered great 
 promotion, as the royal service offered more oppor- 
 tunities for advancement than that of an independent 
 nobleman like the Duke of Savoy; but Pierre had a 
 reason of his own for regretting the change, for among 
 the maidens in attendance upon the Duchess was one 
 of noble birth, who excelled all the others in wit and 
 beauty, and although both were so young, a strong 
 friendship had sprung up between them, which, on his 
 side at least, soon ripened into love, and it was his 
 ambition to be able in after years to wear her colours in 
 the tournament, and win her by noble deeds as a true
 
 AS PAGE AND SQUIRE. 39 
 
 knight should. Fate, however, decreed otherwise, and 
 he, not being so fortunate in love as in war, did not 
 meet her again till eight years afterwards, when, as a 
 soldier whose merit was already known, he visited the 
 Duke's Court, and found her the bride of one of the 
 lords-in-waiting. 
 
 Eeturning to Paris with the royal suite, of which he 
 was now a member, Pierre remained for a considerable 
 time in the household of Count Ligni as one of his 
 pages ; but after some months, when he had made great 
 progress in strength and vigour, the Count, who had a 
 great affection for him, and wished to advance him in 
 every way, sent him, when sixteen years of age, to 
 Picardy, to learn the duties of a man-at-arms with a 
 company of artillery there under the command of Louis 
 d'Ars. He accordingly left the Eoyal Court, where he 
 had been nearly two years, during which he had gained 
 many friends by his habitual modesty and courtesy, and 
 went with his friend Bellarbre to join his regiment. 
 
 Here he signalised his arrival by challenging his 
 young companions in arms to a tournament, in which 
 he was himself first opposed by a young squire called 
 Aymond de Salvaing, who was so equally matched with 
 him that in the first round both their lances were broken. 
 In the second encounter, however, he was more fortu- 
 nate, and succeeded in throwing his opponent from his 
 charger, and thus came off victorious. On the follow- 
 ing day he was equally successful against another 
 antagonist, so that at the end of the tournament he was
 
 40 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 unanimously declared victor; but with characteristic 
 generosity he refused to accept the prizes himself, and 
 accordingly awarded one to his Mend Bellarbre, and the 
 other to David Fougas, a Scotch gentleman in the 
 French service. 
 
 This reluctance of Bayard to claim the just reward of 
 his prowess thus early manifested shows that unselfish 
 disposition which characterised all his after life, and pre- 
 vented him from ever attaining any position of great 
 power, which a little more self-assertion might have 
 gained for him, but was also one of the causes of that 
 wonderful popularity he enjoyed, and the influence he 
 exercised over all who came in contact with him. 
 
 Two years were passed in Picardy, during which the 
 young squire spent his time in learning the duties of a 
 lancer, or man-at-arms, and making himself thoroughly 
 proficient in all the military exercises, in order that he 
 might have an early opportunity of winning his golden 
 spurs, which honour he hoped to obtain through the 
 favour of his commander and Count Ligni. 
 
 But, in the meantime, clouds were gathering on the 
 political horizon, and events were marching on apace 
 to bring about a change of circumstances which was 
 destined to fulfil Bayard's hopes even sooner than he 
 himself anticipated. 
 
 King Charles, who was a man of great ambition but 
 little ability, preferred vast schemes of foreign conquest 
 to any useful plans for the government of his country, 
 and one of his favourite projects was the invasion of
 
 AS PAGE AND SOU I RE. 41 
 
 Italy, which at this time was divided into a number of 
 independent kingdoms and republics, and was therefore 
 unable to offer united opposition to a foreign foe. The 
 King's arrangements for the invasion were completed 
 early in 1494, and Bayard was summoned to join the 
 army at Lyons. He found the French army had already 
 assembled at the foot of the Alps, ready for the expedi- 
 tion ; but the King and his Court still remained in the 
 city, spending the time in balls and festivities. 
 
 A tournament had just been arranged in which Lord 
 Vaudray was to challenge all comers, and Pierre's heart 
 was at once set on entering the lists ; not that he had 
 any expectation of defeating so distinguished a knight 
 as the challenger, but because he wished for an oppor- 
 tunity of trying his prowess with that of soldiers of 
 renown, so as to profit by their skill. 
 
 The ambitious desire of the young squire soon became 
 known to Count Ligni and the King, and the former, 
 seeing what progress his favourite had made in strength 
 and proficiency, was determined to gratify him. 
 
 It was of course necessary for Bayard to obtain the 
 Order of Knighthood before he could enter the lists 
 against other knights, and the Count, perceiving how 
 well he had been endowed by nature for the high 
 duties of Chivalry, and hearing from all sides his reputa- 
 tion for courage and generosity, thereupon dubbed him 
 Chevalier, and besides this, appointed him a man-at- 
 arms in his own company of horse, a position similar to 
 that of a cavalry subaltern at the present day.
 
 42 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Full of delight at this sudden promotion, the youthful 
 Chevalier appeared on the morning of the tournament, 
 and, along with the most distinguished soldiers of France, 
 signified his intention of trying his skill against the 
 challenger in the usual manner by striking the shield 
 of the latter with his lance. The tournament was held 
 in presence of the King and his Court, who filled the 
 galleries surrounding the lists ; and when Bayard, com- 
 pletely clothed in armour, rode boldly in to take his 
 place, his youthful appearance and graceful air gained 
 him the sympathy of all. When the trumpet blew to 
 the charge, Pierre galloped forward, his lance pointed at 
 his opponent's breast ; and although, no doubt, so ex- 
 perienced a knight as Lord Vaudray could easily have 
 dismounted him, the latter, pleased with his courage and 
 address, generously allowed him to obtain some advan- 
 tage, so that when, after the encounter, he rode round 
 the lists with the visor of his helmet open as was usual, 
 he received so much applause from the spectators that 
 the Queen of Beauty awarded him a high prize. 
 
 The army now received orders to advance, and they 
 accordingly crossed over the Alps, and quickly advanced 
 towards Florence. The Florentine Republic was at this 
 time ruled by Pietro de Medici, whose family had some 
 years before usurped the government ; but there was a 
 strong party led by the hero-priest Savonarola, whose 
 aim was to expel the Medici and restore the ancient 
 liberties of the Republic, which was to be ruled by a sort 
 of theocracy, with Christ as the head.
 
 AS PAGE AND SQUIRE. 43 
 
 This party was strongly in favour of the French, and 
 when the latter arrived they were received with open 
 arms. But Charles mistook the deference and honour 
 paid to him for tame submission, and by threatening to 
 exercise the rights of a conqueror by imposing a fine on 
 the citizens he awakened their alarm. The solid palaces 
 of Florence, with small windows at a great elevation from 
 the ground, and secured by massive bars of iron, have the 
 air of prisons and the strength of fortresses for which, 
 indeed, they often served in the factious wars of the 
 Republic and these the wary Florentines filled with 
 armed men. When, therefore, the citizens energetically 
 protested against the intentions of the King, and he 
 exclaimed, "Then I shall order my trumpets to sound 
 to arms." " Sound them," replied the chief magistrate, 
 "and they will be answered by our bells summoning 
 the people." Charles, seeing he had gone too far, con- 
 sented to modify his demands, and shortly afterwards 
 resumed his march towards Rome. 
 
 The reigning Pope was Alexander VI., whose crimes 
 and vices have caused him to be considered by Catholics 
 and Protestants alike as a disgrace to the Papacy, and 
 he, finding resistance useless, shut himself up in the 
 Castle of St. Angelo. Thus, without striking a blow, 
 the French army, with Bayard, entered Eome in 
 triumphal procession. In front marched the serried 
 battalions of the Swiss mercenary foot soldiers, armed 
 with long pikes, whose robust and warlike figures were 
 displayed to advantage by their tight jackets and panta-
 
 44 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 loons of variegated and brilliant colours. Then came 
 the French light infantry and crossbowmen, remarkable 
 for agility rather than strength, and these were followed 
 by the long columns of about ten thousand lancers, 
 among whom was the young Chevalier. The King 
 himself came next, surrounded by his bodyguard of 
 five hundred gentlemen in magnificent costumes. He 
 was clad in gilt armour, adorned with jewels, wear- 
 ing his crown, and was mounted on a splendid 
 charger. 
 
 The rear was brought up by the artillery, and the 
 entrance of the whole army, numbering about sixty 
 thousand men, took from three o'clock in the afternoon 
 till nine at night, when the last ranks passed through 
 by torchlight. 
 
 Shortly after the occupation of the French army, the 
 Pope was compelled to enter into a treaty with them, 
 and the King left Koine, carrying with him as a hostage 
 the Pope's son, the infamous Ciesar Borgia, the murderer 
 of his brother, and of whom it has been said that he 
 seemed to be born only that a man might be found 
 wicked enough to execute the designs of his father. 
 
 As 4,he French army approached Naples, most of the 
 towns on the way declared in their favour, and the 
 King, Ferdinand, having been deserted by Trivulzio, his 
 general, fled to Sicily, leaving the whole country at the 
 mercy of the enemy, and King Charles accordingly, on 
 1 2th May, 1495, made a solemn entry into Naples as a 
 conqueror, without having had to fight a single battle.
 
 AS PAGE AND SQUIRE. 45 
 
 The French king, however, soon alienated the hearts of 
 his Italian allies by his caprice and dissipation, so that 
 a league of the Northern States was speedily formed 
 against him, and, fearing that his road home would 
 be cut off, he left the Neapolitan kingdoms in charge 
 of the Duke of Montpensier and Stuart d'Aubigne", 
 a Scotch nobleman, and started off homewards with 
 an army of ten thousand men, among whom was 
 Bayard. As he again approached Florence, Savonarola 
 met him, and, reproaching him for the breach of his 
 engagements to that Kepublic, foretold that he would 
 escape with honour all the perils of his march, but that, 
 if he did not amend his life, the hand of God would be 
 heavy upon him. This prophecy was soon to be 
 fulfilled, but the fate of the heroic monk himself was 
 not destined to be more fortunate. After governing 
 Florence with ability and success, and sternly setting 
 himself to remove the abuses of the Church and reprove 
 the crimes of the Pope, he was at length, in 1498, 
 arrested and tried before two papal commissioners, who 
 condemned him to torture, after which he was burned at 
 the stake. Thus perished one of the great precursors 
 of the Keformation, who endured all the trials while 
 obtaining little of the honour due by posterity to a 
 Reformer. 
 
 But to return to the march of the French army : they 
 at length reached the village of Fornova, in Lombardy, 
 where they suddenly found themselves opposed by an 
 army of sixty thousand men, principally composed of 
 
 E
 
 46 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Venetians. The latter were confident of success, and a 
 battle immediately took place, in which the Italian troops, 
 instead of attacking the French soldiers as they were 
 ordered, rushed off to plunder their baggage, which had 
 been left some distance behind. The King, seeing this, 
 charged upon their flank with his bodyguard, followed 
 by the rest of his army, and attacked the main body of 
 the Italians, who were thus taken at great disadvantage. 
 The young Bayard, though only nineteen years old, 
 fought with great gallantry, and in the charge upon the 
 enemy's infantry had two horses killed under him, but 
 fortunately his armour-proof protected him, and he 
 succeeded in defeating a company of fifty men-at-arms, 
 whose ensign he captured. 
 
 The battle, which lasted an hour or two, ended in a 
 complete victory for the French, who only lost about 
 two hundred men, while of the enemy over four thousand 
 were slain. The safety of the royal army was thus 
 assured, and they were able to continue their march 
 into France, so that Bayard arrived at Lyons in the 
 following November, 1495, after an absence of fourteen 
 months. 
 
 Those who had remained at Naples were not so 
 fortunate, for the King had not left them a week when 
 his competitor, Ferdinand, landed with a large army, and 
 after defeating the French in several battles, compelled 
 them in the following year to evacuate the country, so 
 that only a small remnant of the army returned to 
 France.
 
 AS PAGE AND SQUIRE. 47 
 
 For nearly three years after his return from the ex- 
 pedition into Italy, Bayard remained at the King's 
 Court, assiduously attending to his military duties, 
 while he advanced in the esteem of all his associates, 
 and was rapidly establishing a reputation as one of the 
 most promising young knights of his time. 
 
 During this period King Charles was meditating 
 another descent upon Italy, but his ambitious designs 
 were frustrated by a sad and unforeseen event. On the 
 7th April, 1498, he was proceeding with his wife to see 
 a game of tennis on the castle lawn, when, in passing 
 through a dark gallery, he struck his head against the 
 door with great force. Although a little stunned by the 
 blow, he passed on to view the sports, conversing cheer- 
 fully with those around him, when he was suddenly 
 struck with apoplexy, and expired shortly afterwards, 
 in the 28th year of his age.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WAllllIOR. 
 
 | HE Duke of Orleans, who now ascended 
 I the throne of France as Louis XII., had 
 I some time before endeavoured to raise a 
 | revolt, and been imprisoned by the 
 | magistrates of Orleans, who in great 
 ^ alarm sent a deputation to ask pardon 
 for the indignity he had suffered, but he dismissed 
 them with the generous and celebrated answer, " It ill 
 becomes the King of France to revenge the injuries of 
 the Duke of Orleans." 
 
 Uayard was at this time visiting at the Court of the 
 Duke of Savoy where he had formerly been a page, but 
 he was soon summoned thence by the news that the 
 Duke of Milan had raised an army, and was about to 
 drive the French out of his territory. He hastened to 
 join the Count de Ligni, who was in command of the 
 King's troops in Milan ; but a general insurrection 
 having broken out, the French were obliged to retire 
 from that city, which was shortly after occupied by the 
 Duke's forces. War between two hostile armies was at
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 49 
 
 this period carried on by a succession of independent 
 forays by small bodies of men, who would attempt to 
 take the enemy by surprise ; and it was now, when in 
 garrison about twenty miles from Milan, that Bayard 
 led the first of those sorties for which he was afterwards 
 to become so celebrated. Having ascertained that 
 there was a small body of the enemy stationed at a 
 village some distance from the French camp, he organ- 
 ised a party of about fifty gentlemen, who set out 
 before daybreak in order to surprise the Duke of 
 Milan's party. 
 
 The latter were, however, informed of their approach, 
 and when Bayard's lancers arrived they found the 
 others prepared, so that shouting the war-cry, "La 
 France," they at once rode to the charge. The battle 
 was at first uncertain, but at length the French, ani- 
 mated by their leader's valour, succeeded in breaking 
 the Italian ranks, and the latter fled in disorder towards 
 Milan. The young knight, with all the rashness of his 
 age, hotly pursued them right into the city, where he 
 was speedily overcome and led prisoner to the Duke. 
 The Prince was filled with admiration at the audacity 
 of the young soldier who had thus ventured into the 
 lion's mouth, and his conduct is a striking instance of 
 the singular attraction of Bayard's character, whose 
 dignity and grace impressed even his enemies. The 
 young hero naturally expected that he would be de- 
 tained as a prisoner of war, but what was his surprise 
 when the Duke, having questioned him about the
 
 50 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 circumstances of his capture, informed him that, 
 through admiration for his bravery, he would at once 
 liberate him without ransom. The Chevalier had not 
 expected such generosity from an enemy, and was 
 deeply grateful. 
 
 Kneeling before the Duke to thank him, he promised 
 that, if at any time it should be in his power to serve 
 so noble a prince without disloyalty to his king and 
 country, he would hold himself bound by his honour as 
 a knight to do so. His sword and charger were then 
 restored, and a guide sent to conduct him to the French 
 camp, where he soon arrived, much to the astonishment 
 of his comrades, who, having heard of his capture, were 
 preparing to negotiate for his ransom. 
 
 The generous Duke was soon to receive very different 
 treatment, which Bayard was powerless to prevent, at 
 the hands of the French, by whom he was hated on 
 account of the suspicion that he had usurped the 
 Duchy of Milan by murdering his nephew. 
 
 The two armies met at Novarro in April, 1500, and 
 the Swiss mercenaries in the service of the Duke 
 having deserted him, he was compelled to surrender 
 unconditionally. He attempted to escape from the 
 town disguised as a monk, but was betrayed by one of 
 his followers, and carried prisoner into France, where 
 he was confined in the Castle of Loches in an iron cage 
 only a few feet long. Here he remained in captivity 
 for ten years, but when liberated, died from the effects 
 of the sudden transport of joy.
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 51 
 
 After the recovery of Milan by the French, Bayard 
 proceeded with Count Ligni to Voghiera, and here 
 occurred one of those instances of his total disregard 
 for wealth which made him, though but a poor man, 
 one of the most eminent examples of knightly 
 munificence. The citizens of this place had, like 
 those of Milan, rebelled against the French, and the 
 Count had threatened to punish them with fire and 
 sword ; so that on his approach to the town he was 
 met by a long procession of men and women bare- 
 headed, and clothed in white, carrying a large quantity 
 of valuable plate as a peace-offering to appease his anger. 
 
 They all precipitated themselves on their knees before 
 the Count and begged for mercy, but he remained 
 inflexible, and ordered them to be put to death in 
 punishment for their accursed rebellion. Fortunately 
 for them, the sight of their distress moved the heart of 
 the gallant Louis d'Ars, who, stepping forward hat 
 in hand before the Count, knelt with one knee on the 
 ground and pleaded for the lives of the citizens "for 
 the sake of God and His Son Jesus Christ." The Count 
 de Ligni was moved almost to tears " Go," he said, " I 
 pardon you for the sake of this gallant soldier, who 
 deserves more from me than I can ever bestow." Then 
 turning to Bayard, he told him to take the silver, as he 
 could not accept it himself. A present of such immense 
 value would not have been received with much hesita- 
 tion by most poor knights with but little to support 
 their dignity, but such was not the young soldier's
 
 52 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 nature, for, bowing to the Count with deep respect, he 
 said, "I thank you from my heart for the gift; but God 
 forbid that the money of traitors and false lieges should 
 ever be used by me," and, taking the plate, he dis- 
 tributed it piece by piece among those present, not 
 keeping any for himself. 
 
 The King of .France was now anxious to follow up 
 his success in Italy by regaining the Kingdom of Naples 
 which had been won and lost by his predecessor ; and 
 he therefore contracted an alliance with Ferdinand of 
 Spain for the partition of the South of Italy between 
 them, and the French army was accordingly ordered to 
 set out for Naples in the spring of 1501. Count Ligni 
 was at this time suffering from an illness of which he 
 shortly afterwards died, and Bayard, who had served 
 under him for more than ten years, took leave of him 
 with great regret, and went southward with his regi- 
 ment, which was now commanded by Louis d'Ars, the 
 entire army, amounting to thirteen thousand men, being 
 under the command of Stuart d'Aubigne. 
 
 Frederick, King of Naples, being attacked in front by 
 the French and in the rear by the Spaniards, was able 
 to make little resistance, and after the surrender of 
 Capua, which was surprised by the French army in 
 July, he entered into negotiations with General 
 D'Aubigne*, and agreed to evacuate the kingdom. 
 
 The French and Spanish leaders being thus left in 
 undisturbed possession of the country soon began to 
 quarrel among themselves, and the Spaniards, though at
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 53 
 
 first defeated, succeeded in driving their former allies 
 out of every place except Barletta, which was strongly 
 fortified. It was in the combats round this place that 
 Bayard, now in his twenty-seventh year, gained by his 
 deeds of generosity and courage his reputation as the 
 model of Chivalry, and that proudest of titles, " Le 
 Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche." 
 
 Such confidence had his comrades in his ability and 
 valour, that whenever he chose to organise any sortie 
 against the enemy, the bravest and most skilful officers 
 in the army were always anxious to serve under him, 
 and this, as well as his own genius, contributed to the 
 almost invariable success which attended his arms on 
 these occasions. 
 
 On one of these expeditions they happened un- 
 expectedly to fall in with an equal number of Spaniards 
 under a distinguished captain called Soto Mayor, and 
 the French, desirous of the honour of being the first to 
 attack, lowered their visors and charged. The enemy 
 received them at the point of the lance, and the fight 
 lasted for nearly half-an-hour without either party 
 gaining any decisive advantage, when Bayard, seizing 
 the opportunity when the Spaniards were hotly en- 
 gaged, drew off half-a-dozen of his men and attacked 
 them in the rear. This so dismayed Soto Mayor that 
 he turned and fled, closely pursued by the Chevalier, 
 who called upon him to stop and fight the battle out by 
 single combat. After a hard-fought duel the Spaniard's 
 sword broke in two, and he was thus placed at the
 
 54 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 mercy of his opponent and brought with the other 
 prisoners to the French camp, where, according to the 
 usage of Chivalry, he was released upon his word of 
 honour that he would not attempt to escape. He, 
 however, soon wearied of captivity, an.d as the amount 
 of his ransom had been agreed upon though not yet 
 paid, he considered it would be merely a technical 
 breach of faith to leave before he was formally released, 
 and he therefore started off at night for the Spanish 
 garrison. His flight was speedily discovered, and a 
 troop being sent in pursuit, he was recaptured before 
 he had proceeded very far, and brought back to Bayard, 
 who was extremely indignant at such a breach of 
 knightly honour. 
 
 About a fortnight after the ransom arrived, and Soto 
 Mayor was set at liberty ; but when he returned to his 
 own army he complained of the manner in which he 
 had been treated while a prisoner. This soon reached 
 Bayard's ears, and he, considering it a reproach upon 
 his honour, sent a formal challenge to a duel. The 
 challenge having been accepted, and the place of meet- 
 ing arranged, a long and obstinate conflict ensued, 
 which terminated in the Spaniard being carried off the 
 field severely wounded. 
 
 The war between the French and Spaniards con- 
 tinued for about a year longer, with results rather 
 adverse to the former, who were compelled to act 
 entirely on the defensive, and were annoyed by the 
 frequent attacks of the enemy.
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 55 
 
 On one occasion the camp was attacked by a large 
 body under Don Pedro de Pais, who, though barely 
 four feet high, was one of the boldest and most enter- 
 prising of their leaders. The French were taken by 
 surprise, and would have suffered a disastrous defeat 
 but for the presence of mind of Bayard, who rushed out 
 with a few followers to the bridge leading to the camp, 
 and defended this post so obstinately that the entire body 
 of Spaniards were held at bay until help arrived, when 
 they were driven off, and pursued for some distance. 
 The fugitives were reinforced by another troop, and the 
 order to retreat being given, the French cavalry drew 
 off towards their own lines, the Chevalier bringing up 
 the rear, as was his custom, considerably behind the 
 others. The Spaniards, seeing this, made a sudden 
 charge, by which they succeeded in overpowering him, 
 and his condition would have been desperate but for 
 the great love borne for him by all his companions in 
 arms, who were ever ready to risk their lives for his 
 safety ; for they, discovering his capture, at once turned 
 back, and notwithstanding that they were greatly 
 outnumbered, charged the Spaniards vigorously, and 
 Bayard having succeeded in freeing himself, seconded 
 them so well that the enemy went off at full gallop, 
 leaving their prisoner behind. 
 
 Shortly after this event, the French army, having 
 been completely defeated in the Battle of Garigliano (at 
 which our hero was not present), was compelled to 
 evacuate Naples, and Bayard accordingly returned once
 
 56 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 more to France, where he remained for some time 
 among his own people. 
 
 His services were, however, too necessary to his coun- 
 try to admit of his being left long to enjoy the pleasures 
 of idleness, and the King's ambition for foreign conquest 
 was urging him into another war in Italy. 
 
 The Republic of Venice was at this period the proud 
 " Queen of the Adriatic," from which her merchant 
 navies sailed to all parts of the world, and she had been 
 for years the most powerful State in Italy ; but latterly 
 her influence had begun to decline, owing to reverses 
 received in a lengthened war with the Turks, and the 
 opportunity of her temporary weakness was seized by 
 some of the neighbouring States, jealous of the remains 
 of her former greatness. The " League of Cambrai" was 
 accordingly formed between the Emperor of Germany, 
 the King of France, and the Pope, the object of which 
 was to seize the Venetian possessions, and divide them 
 among the allies. 
 
 The preparations for the war with Venice were 
 completed in March, 1509, and Bayard having been 
 appointed commander of a company of a thousand men, 
 joined the King's army, amounting to about one hundred 
 thousand, and crossed the Alps with them in safety. 
 They arrived at the Eiver Adda without meeting with 
 any opposition, and were marching along its banks, 
 when, at a bend in the stream, they suddenly found 
 themselves face to face with the Venetian army forty- 
 five thousand strong.
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 57 
 
 Both parties were equally surprised, but the French, 
 recovering themselves first, attacked the flank of the 
 enemy, and Bayard leading his men across the river up 
 to their necks in water, fell upon the rear. The 
 Venetians made a vigorous defence, but taken thus at 
 a disadvantage, they were at length cut down and 
 dispersed. This victory enabled the French to take 
 possession of all the territory claimed by them with 
 little further trouble, and the King soon returned to 
 France with the greater part of his army, leaving the 
 Chevalier and the remainder to garrison the towns and 
 co-operate with his allies. 
 
 The situation of Venice, hard pressed as the Eepublic 
 was on all sides, seemed desperate, when the Doge 
 issued the famous decree by which all her dependencies 
 were released from their allegiance, and she thus 
 stripped herself of what her enemies were seeking to 
 obtain, and reduced her empire to the islands and 
 lagoons which had been its cradle. The Emperor 
 Maximilian now appeared on the scene to take 
 possession of the territory assigned to him by the 
 treaty between the allies, and Bayard joined his army 
 with five hundred lancers and two hundred gentlemen 
 volunteers. The army then advanced to besiege Padua, 
 in which the Venetians had placed a large garrison, 
 determined to defend it to the last. Four strong barriers, 
 protected by deep trenches, had been erected outside the 
 walls of the town, and upon these the Emperor decided 
 to make three separate assaults at different points.
 
 58 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 The attack began early in the day, and the Chevalier 
 led his men forward on one side against the first barrier, 
 which was stubbornly defended by the Venetians, and 
 after a hard fight it was forced, and the enemy driven back 
 to the second trench. After half-an-hour's fighting this 
 was also taken, and so impetuous was the charge of the 
 French that the defenders were driven past the third 
 barrier into the fourth, which was close under the 
 ramparts. Here the garrison were assisted by a deadly 
 artillery fire from the walls, and they fiercely contested 
 the advance of the French inch by inch, so that after an 
 hour's hard fighting it became evident that the palisade 
 could not be taken from without. Bayard therefore 
 determined upon a desperate expedient, and leaping 
 from his horse he waved his sword to the others to 
 follow, and sprang over the barrier into the midst of 
 the enemy, where he was quickly reinforced by his 
 comrades, who drove the defenders from their position 
 into the town. 
 
 Night coming on, the assault was discontinued ; but 
 on the following day the Imperial artillery directed 
 a heavy fire upon the walls, which soon opened 
 a considerable breach, and the Emperor ordered 
 an immediate assault to be made. After a severe 
 struggle, some of his troops had at length driven 
 back the Venetians, and established themselves upon 
 the bastion, when a terrible calamity occurred. The 
 defenders, foreseeing that they would not be able to 
 hold the position, had undermined the works, and so
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 59 
 
 soon as the Germans captured them, the mine was fired, 
 and the victors blown into the air. Consternation now 
 seized the attacking force, who were charged by the 
 garrison and driven from every post. 
 
 The siege was still continued with great vigour, 
 and frequent sorties were made by both sides, in which 
 the Chevalier, as usual, distinguished himself by his 
 display of the wonderful combination of prudence and 
 audacity which formed his character. 
 
 An incident now occurred which caused the failure of 
 the siege, and illustrates the punctilious pride of the 
 nobles of the period. The Emperor, wishing to take the 
 town by assault before the breach could be repaired by the 
 garrison, wrote to the commander of the French cavalry 
 (which was, of course, entirely composed of nobles and 
 gentlemen), requesting that, as they were all renowned 
 soldiers who would be better able to cope with the 
 veterans of the garrison than his own troops, they 
 would dismount and try another assault with the 
 German foot soldiers of his own army. This request 
 was received by the French knights with astonishment, 
 and Bayard boldly declared that, though poor, he was 
 still a gentleman, and could not degrade himself by 
 fighting on foot with common soldiers, but that if the 
 German nobles would dismount and go to the assault 
 instead of the infantry, they would lead them to the 
 breach. This feeling was shared by all the others ; but 
 when the Emperor requested the nobles of his own 
 army to dismount and go to the assault with the French
 
 60 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 knights, they refused to do so, on the ground that it 
 was derogatory to gentlemen to fight except on horse- 
 back. The Emperor, finding that all his endeavours to 
 persuade them to make the assault on these terms were 
 useless, and not having funds to maintain the army till 
 the town should be obliged to capitulate, hastily left 
 the camp, after instructing his generals to raise the 
 siege. 
 
 The army having retired from before Padua, went 
 into winter quarters, and Bayard accompanied the 
 French portion to Novara, where he remained for 
 some months, the monotony of which was broken by 
 occasional expeditions against isolated detachments of 
 the enemy. So firm was the knight's adhesion to the 
 strictest precepts of Chivalry, that in these sorties he 
 could never be persuaded to bring a greater number of 
 soldiers than were in the body he attacked, and this 
 scrupulousness more than once brought him into 
 imminent danger through his troops being opposed by 
 a greater number then he expected. He was often 
 greatly annoyed by the conduct of the German soldiers, 
 who were accustomed to burn and destroy everything 
 before them, and the knight sternly set himself to 
 prevent this, by inflicting summary punishment upon 
 all offenders who came within his reach, and thus in 
 many ways doing all in his power to mitigate the 
 horrors of a barbarous mode of warfare. 
 
 The Venetians had gained some important successes 
 in the war, and Pope Julius II. having obtained all he
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 61 
 
 expected from his alliance with the French, now made 
 peace with the Eepublic, and hastened to declare war 
 against the Duke of Ferrara, who was an ally of 
 Louis. 
 
 Towards the end of the year 1510, the papal army 
 advanced to besiege Mirandola, one of the Duke's 
 frontier towns, and here the Pope himself directed the 
 operations, placing his guns in battery and hastening 
 their fire. Armed with cuirass and helmet, he con- 
 stantly showed himself on horseback to his troops, 
 animating them with hopes of plunder, and sharing all 
 the counsels, fatigues, and dangers of the siege. In one 
 of the excursions which he was accustomed to make in 
 the neighbourhood, he was very nearly taken prisoner 
 by Bayard, who had laid an ambuscade for him, and he 
 with difficulty escaped into the Castle of San Felice, by 
 jumping out of his carriage, and helping to raise the 
 drawbridge with his own hands. 
 
 Mirandola was, on 20th January, 1511, compelled to 
 surrender, a heavy frost having come on which enabled 
 the besiegers to cross the moat on the ice. 
 
 After its capture, the Pope and the Venetians directed 
 their whole attention to Ferrara ; but before attacking 
 that town, it was necessary for them to obtain possession 
 of the Castle of La Bastia, commanding the district of 
 the Lower Po, from which Ferrara obtained supplies of 
 provisions. The army therefore proceeded to lay siege 
 to it, and the Duke of Ferrara, having been informed of 
 this, was greatly alarmed, knowing that it was the key
 
 62 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 to his city, and was badly garrisoned. Bastia was 
 twenty miles from Ferrara, and any party going to its 
 relief would be obliged to pass through a narrow defile 
 where only one man could go at a time, so that it could 
 easily be guarded by the enemy. But the genius of 
 Bayard was equal to the occasion, and he at once hit 
 upon the only feasible plan of relieving the castle, 
 which was to send a division of infantry by boats down 
 the River Po, and a troop of cavalry by land at night, so 
 that the two bodies could meet the next morning and 
 take the Papal army by surprise. 
 
 The plan succeeded admirably, and when the Duke's 
 forces approached La Bastia early in the morning, 
 Bayard divided them into three bands, two of which 
 went round to attack the besiegers on the flank and 
 rear, while the other marched straight down and took 
 them in front. The attack, though sudden and un- 
 expected, was met by the Pope's troops with great 
 courage, and the battle raged fiercely for over an hour, 
 but finally the Duke's army triumphed, driving the 
 enemy from the field, with the loss of five thousand 
 prisoners, and all their artillery, baggage, and horses. 
 
 The success of this expedition, which preserved the 
 whole Duchy from invasion, gained great praise for the 
 gallant knight, who was well rewarded on his return to 
 Ferrara with the smiles of the Duchess, the lovely 
 Lucrezia Borgia, esteemed the most beautiful woman of 
 her time, and the idol of the poets and literary men who 
 swarmed to that Court.
 
 AS KNIGHT AND WARRIOR. 63 
 
 The Pope having thus failed to detach the Duke of 
 Ferrara from his alliance with the French by force of 
 arms, decided to try diplomacy, and accordingly com- 
 missioned a scoundrel called Guerlo to go to the Duke 
 and persuade him to desert the French. The Duke 
 received the emissary well, and listened to his proposals, 
 of which he at once informed Bayard, who was in- 
 dignant at the contemplated treachery, and pressed for 
 the instant expulsion of the enemy. The Duke, how- 
 ever, being an Italian, and accustomed to the practice of 
 diabolical artifices, which even at this time other nations 
 regarded with horror, had thought of another method, 
 which was simply to bribe the Pope's messenger to 
 poison him. This Guerlo readily agreed to do upon the 
 promise of a large reward, and the Duke went to inform 
 Bayard of the success of his scheme. 
 
 Thinking that the latter would see his meaning, and 
 wishing to break it gently, he told him that he did not 
 think they would be troubled by the Pope much longer, 
 as he had arranged with his commissioner, who had 
 promised that within a week his master would be a 
 dead man. The knight, who was himself too pure to 
 suspect such a horrible design in others, was at a loss 
 to understand the hint, and asked how this fellow could 
 enter into the secrets of Providence by predicting the 
 time of any man's death. When, however, from a 
 plainer intimation he finally learnt that Guerlo was to 
 poison the Pope, his horror was intense, and he told the 
 Duke that he wondered how so great a Prince could
 
 64 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 for a moment have entertained such a design, and that 
 if he thought it was really intended he would himself 
 warn the Pope at once. The Duke attempted to appease 
 him by enlarging on the intended treachery towards the 
 French ; but Bayard was so angry at the idea, that he 
 left him in order to seize and hang the man who engaged 
 to commit such a horrible villainy ; Guerlo, however, 
 having received timely warning, escaped from the city 
 and went to Brescia, where he was shortly afterwards 
 executed for another crime.
 
 <[ 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 HE Chevalier Bayard was now thirty- 
 live years of age, and in the prime of 
 life. His appearance is said to have 
 been dignified and prepossessing. He 
 was well made, and above the middle 
 height, with sad, deepset eyes, a fair 
 ruddy complexion, and open and friendly countenance. 
 His manner was singularly pleasing; and when not 
 troubled with serious business, he was jovial and light- 
 hearted in the extreme, a man who could hold his own 
 at the table or in the field, yet was ever ready with a 
 kind word or pleasant jest. Few could withstand his 
 lance in the tournament; but in battle he was calm 
 and determined, and though never known to be deterred 
 by danger, he was ever prudent and watchful for the 
 safety of his companions. In the words of his con- 
 temporary biographer, "three traits marked him as a great 
 soldier : he was a greyhound in attack, a wild boar in 
 defence, and a wolf in retreat."
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 He was fond of conversing on the precepts of 
 Chivalry, and the worthlessness of rank or riches as 
 compared with the nobte aims a true knight should 
 have at heart; but he enlivened this moral discourse 
 
 with frequent jokes and ready repartee. Many of 
 his sayings have been preserved ; and on one occasion, 
 a companion having sneered at the wisdom and 
 prudence which the knight praised so highly, saying 
 he would prefer a nice little estate, with some money
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 67 
 
 which he could see and use, to all the virtue in the 
 world, which was invisible, "Ah," replied Bayard, "do 
 not, because you are blind and unable to discern true 
 beauty, therefore suppose that there is nothing nobler 
 in the world than the end of your eyelashes, which is 
 all you do see." Such a man as this was but a bad 
 courtier, and he seldom attended upon the King in time 
 of peace, so that while titles and provinces were freely 
 awarded to flatterers and favourites he was left un- 
 noticed ; but in time of war he was supreme, for then his 
 aid was worth more to his country than an army, and 
 the idol of the soldiers, wherever he led, they were pre- 
 pared to follow even to the death. His reputation as 
 one of the bravest and most skilful, and at the same 
 time the most honourable and noble, of the knights of 
 France was now fully established, and even in foreign 
 countries he was looked up to as the model and pride 
 of Chivalry throughout the world, a position of which 
 his title, " The knight without fear and without re- 
 proach" was the public recognition. 
 
 Towards the end of the year 1511, the command of 
 the French troops in Italy was given to the King's 
 nephew, Gaston de Foix, Due de Nemours, a young 
 officer of distinguished ability, who, though only in his 
 twenty-third year, soon showed that the army could not 
 have been entrusted to more competent hands, for in a 
 short career of two months he revealed to France the 
 true secret of her military power the capacity of her 
 infantry to perform marches of extraordinary rapidity.
 
 68 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Before his time the chief reliance had always been placed 
 in the cavalry, the French knights being renowned 
 throughout Europe for their prowess; but he brought 
 the infantry into greater prominence, and the maxim of 
 Marshal Saxe, that battles are gained not with the hands 
 but with the feet, was never more strikingly illustrated 
 than by the operations of this youthful commander. 
 
 In January, 1512, the enemy was closely investing 
 Bologna, and had already made a breach in the walls 
 by their artillery fire, when the Duke hastened to its 
 relief, and, after marching day and night, succeeded 
 during a storm of wind and snow in getting into the 
 town without meeting a single sentry of the enemy, 
 who were obliged shortly after to raise the siege and 
 retire. He was deterred from pursuing them by the 
 news that the inhabitants of Brescia had admitted the 
 Venetians and driven out the French garrison, so that 
 it would be necessary for him to proceed there without 
 delay. He now made a more extraordinary march than 
 his former one, for, placing a garrison of five thousand 
 men in Bologna, he left it with the remainder of the 
 army, and making the infantry cover as much ground as 
 cavalry usually did, he hastened by forced marches over 
 broken roads and overflowed rivers, and appeared near 
 Brescia on the sixteenth of February before the Vene- 
 tians had any idea he was approaching, having on the 
 way attacked and defeated a division of their army 
 with a troop of cavalry led by Bayard, which had 
 travelled fifty miles without drawing bridle.
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 69 
 
 The assault upon the town was arranged to take place 
 early on the following morning, when the attacking force 
 was divided into several sections, one of which was com- 
 manded by the Chevalier, who led a company of picked 
 men, most of whom were officers, but preferred the honour 
 of serving under him to commanding troops themselves. 
 
 The attack was made with great spirit, but the 
 defence was equally determined, and the battle-cries of 
 "France and Bayard!" and "Marco, Marco!" the 
 patron saint of Venice, resounded on all sides. The 
 French having at length succeeded in driving the 
 defenders back some distance, Bayard seized the oppor- 
 tunity to leap up upon the rampart, where he was 
 quickly followed by all his company, who captured the 
 first fort; but their leader paid dearly for his rashness, 
 having received a severe thrust from a pike, the point 
 of which broke off and remained in his side, inflicting a 
 wound which was feared to be mortal. He himself, 
 seeing the great flow of blood which his soldiers vainly 
 tried to stanch, told them to carry him out of the fray, 
 as he was wounded to the death, and he was immediately 
 removed to a large house in the vicinity. The Duke of 
 Nemours, seeing Bayard fall, and believing he was 
 killed, headed the attack himself, calling upon his 
 followers to avenge the noblest knight of France. The 
 defenders were driven back, and the French, following 
 the retreating soldiers into the town, took it by assault, 
 in spite of the obstinate defence of the inhabitants, who 
 discharged stones and boiling water upon them from
 
 70 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 the tops of their houses; and then, mainly owing to 
 Bayard's absence, there ensued a terrible massacre, in 
 which twenty thousand persons are said to have been slain. 
 
 The lady of the house to which the Chevalier was 
 brought had been expecting every moment that some 
 of the bands of plunderers which always follow a 
 victorious army would break in upon her, and so, when 
 she saw the wounded officer carried in, she fell on her 
 knees, imploring him to save the lives and honour of 
 herself and her two daughters. He, though scarcely 
 able to speak, and believing himself to be mortally 
 wounded, was touched by her distress, and ordered the 
 soldiers who carried him to station themselves at the 
 gate and kill anyone who attempted to force an entrance, 
 promising to indemnify them for their loss of the plunder 
 of the town. 
 
 In the meantime the Duke's surgeon arrived in all 
 haste, and, after examining and dressing the wound, 
 gave them the comforting assurance that it was not 
 fatal. For more than six weeks he lay slowly recover- 
 ing from his hurt, enduring the pain and his forced 
 inactivity with great fortitude, and during this time he 
 was assiduously attended by the lady and her daughters, 
 who had become greatly attached to the wounded hero, 
 notwithstanding that he belonged to their enemies ; and 
 they whiled away the weary hours of his illness with 
 music and song. 
 
 By this time the Duke of Nemours had returned with 
 the French army to Bologna, where he was opposed by a
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 71 
 
 large Spanish force under General Cardona, who retired 
 before them, manoeuvring in order to avoid a battle, 
 which he succeeded in postponing for several weeks. 
 
 Bayard, having now almost recovered from the effects 
 of his wound, and being urged by the Duke to join the 
 army before the expected battle, at which he said the 
 Chevalier's presence would be as good as a reinforcement 
 of a thousand men, informed his hostess that he would 
 leave on the following day. She, being well aware that 
 by the recognised laws of war all her property, worth 
 about ten thousand pounds, belonged to him as captor, 
 expected she would have to pay a heavy ransom, as this 
 was the only means the knights had of maintaining 
 themselves ; but knowing he was a man of noble dis- 
 position, she determined to appeal to his generosity to 
 accept a small sum. 
 
 Accordingly, on the morning of his departure, she 
 brought him a casket containing about one thousand 
 pounds, and thanking him with heartfelt gratitude for 
 saving the lives and property of herself and daughters 
 during the sack of the town, she asked him to accept 
 this money in payment of their ransom. Instead, 
 however, of refusing the amount as too small, Bayard 
 declined to accept anything whatever, sayiug he had 
 been more than repaid by their kindness and attention 
 to him during his illness. 
 
 The lady was deeply affected by such unlooked-for 
 generosity. " Flower of Chivalry !" she exclaimed, " with 
 whom none can compare, may the blessing of God
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 reward you, as He alone can, in this world and in the 
 next." As she still continued to press him to accept it, 
 he sent for her daughters, and dividing the money into 
 three parts, presented one to each as a marriage portion, 
 and gave the third to their mother, requesting her to 
 distribute it among the poor, who had suffered most 
 from the pillage of the town. He then ordered his 
 carriage and bade them farewell, all the party weeping 
 with joy and gratitude, and the girls having first given him 
 some little presents worked by themselves, for which he 
 was as grateful as if he had received the entire ransom. 
 
 His generosity is the more remarkable, as he had no 
 private means whatever to support the dignity of his 
 rank, and in this case had not only lost his share of the 
 booty, but had been obliged to indemnify the soldiers for 
 theirs. 
 
 When he reached the French camp, he found the 
 army shut in between Eavenna, which was held by the 
 Italians, and the camp of their Spanish allies, and his 
 arrival was hailed with joy by all his comrades. 
 
 A breach having been made in the walls of Eavenna, 
 a general assault was arranged for April 9th. On this 
 day, accordingly, several determined attacks were made ; 
 but as the breach was small, and the post stubbornly 
 defended by the citizens, the French were driven back, 
 and the Duke therefore determined to engage the 
 Spanish army on the other side. 
 
 The following day a heavy cannonade was opened on 
 both sides, which lasted for nearly three hours the
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 73 
 
 French artillery, placed at the extremity of their left 
 wing, doing immense damage by a terrible cross fire, 
 which carried off whole ranks of the enemy. 
 
 Before the armies engaged, an incident occurred which 
 curiously displays the chivalrous spirit of the times. 
 The Duke, who was conspicuous by his gorgeous armour 
 embroidered with the arms of Foix and Navarre, wishing 
 to watch at a distance the movements of the Spaniards, 
 rode with his staff a short way along the banks of the 
 canal to some rising ground near which they saw Don 
 Pedro de Puis,with several distinguished Spanish knights, 
 who had come to have a look at the French. At this 
 moment some of the sharpshooters on both sides opened 
 fire on the groups of officers, whereupon Bayard, advanc- 
 ing towards the Spanish general, saluted him, and 
 requested that, as they were both waiting for the battle, 
 he would stop the riflemen on his side and they would do 
 the same on theirs. To this Don Pedro readily agreed, 
 and, after congratulating the Chevalier upon his recovery 
 from his wound, he asked the name of the distinguished- 
 looking French general, and being told it was the Duke 
 of Nemours himself, the Spanish officers dismounted and 
 saluted him courteously. The cannonade now became 
 more vigorous, so that the knights were obliged to 
 separate with mutual expressions of goodwill. 
 
 As both sides were now tired of cannonading each 
 other at a distance, the French army, which was drawn 
 up in a form of a crescent, was ordered to advance to the 
 attack, and many of the companies, in their eagerness to
 
 74 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 be first across, waded up to their necks through the river 
 dividing the hostile camps. 
 
 The Duke in person led the cavalry to the charge, and 
 a short but terrible encounter ensued, both armies 
 contesting the ground inch by inch. At length General 
 Cardona, dismayed by the impetuous onslaught, com- 
 menced a retreat, and this was speedily followed by the 
 complete defeat of the Spanish and Papal cavalry, 
 which fled from the field, hotly pursued by Bayard and 
 Louis d'Ars. 
 
 In the first charge the Chevalier had been dismounted, 
 his famous horse, " La Carinau," which he had won at 
 the taking of Brescia, having received so many wounds 
 that he left it for dead. The next day, however, it was 
 found grazing in a field close by, and being brought to 
 the knight's quarters, allowed itself to be handled, and its 
 wounds probed and dressed without stirring, and in the 
 end completely recovered ; and ever after, when in battle, 
 if it saw any of the enemy using a sworJ, it would run 
 and seize it with its teeth and fight like a human being. 
 
 The struggle between the infantry was not so soon 
 decided, the Spaniards being at this time the best 
 foot soldiers in Europe; and being armed with short 
 swords and bucklers, they were able to break through 
 the French phalanx fighting with long spears, which 
 were useless at close quarters. The Duke of Nemours, 
 seeing that some of his infantry were getting the worst 
 of it, and not observing that most of the cavalry were at 
 a distance pursuing the fugitives, called upon his body-
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 75 
 
 guard to follow, and charged into the midst of the 
 Spaniards with only about twenty French officers. 
 They were received with a deadly volley, which killed 
 their horses, and thus, dismounted and surrounded by 
 the enemy, they fell one by one, fighting gallantly to 
 the last, the Duke being pierced with more than twenty 
 wounds, any one of which would have been fatal. 
 
 The Spaniards, seeing the day was lost, at once 
 retreated, and were met at some distance by Bayard 
 returning from the pursuit with a few men who were 
 too fatigued to engage them. He, not knowing of the 
 General's death, and seeing that his force was too small 
 to attack them with success, contented himself with 
 taking possession of their colours and allowing them to 
 go free ; an act which afterwards caused him the keenest 
 regret, when he found that these were the very men 
 who had slain the Duke. Most of the Spanish leaders 
 were taken prisoner, including Pedro Navarre, the 
 famous engineer, who subsequently entered the French 
 service, and Cardinal de Medici, afterwards Pope Leo 
 X., who was dressed in full canonicals in the midst of 
 the fray. The victory of the French was indeed 
 complete, but at what cost, for they had lost their 
 leader, who had in the course of a few months achieved 
 a most brilliant military reputation, and was known as the 
 " Thunderbolt of Italy." " Would to God," exclaimed 
 the King, " that I had lost all Italy, and that Gaston 
 and those who fell with him were safe." Vain wish, for 
 who can recall the glorious dead, and what avails remorse,
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 77 
 
 when the word that might have saved them was not 
 spoken till too late ! The city of Eavenna surrendered 
 on the following day ; but the loss of the French had 
 been so great, through the death of their leader and 
 many other brave captains, that it was decided to retire 
 to Milan, and the body of the late Duke was accordingly 
 brought there by the army amid universal sorrow and 
 mourning. 
 
 The Italians now began to recover confidence, and 
 occupied all the places evacuated by the French ; and 
 as the Swiss and Venetians were pressing on their flank, 
 the latter were compelled to retire before them as far as 
 Pavia. They had only been here a couple of days when 
 a large body of Swiss succeeded in forcing an entrance, 
 and the alarm having been given, Bayard hastily 
 collected a few of his men and rushed to defend the 
 gate, where, by vigorous efforts, he kept the enemy at 
 bay for over an hour. As, however, the number of the 
 enemy greatly exceeded that of the French, they were 
 obliged to evacuate the town, and after a bloody engage- 
 ment the army slowly retreated by the bridge over the 
 Eiver Ticino, closely followed by the Swiss. So soon as 
 all had crossed, the Chevalier proceeded to destroy the 
 passage, so as to prevent pursuit; but when this had 
 been almost completed, he was struck by a spent 
 cannon ball, which dislocated his shoulder. The French 
 army was now in full retreat, and the wounded officer 
 was carried with them into Lombardy, whence he 
 went into France to the residence of his uncle, the
 
 78 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Bishop of Grenoble. While here he was attacked by a 
 violent fever, brought on by the fatigues and hardships 
 of the late campaign. It was at first thought that this 
 illness would terminate fatally, and the brave knight 
 was tormented by the fear that he who had faced death 
 so often in the field of battle would, after all, die in his 
 bed like a woman. 
 
 However, his strong constitution and temperate 
 habits carried him safely through, and he was soon 
 completely restored to health, a happy result which 
 was hailed with heartfelt rejoicing by the whole 
 country. 
 
 "While staying at Grenoble, an episode occurred which 
 displays the generous and chivalrous disposition of our 
 hero. A beautiful girl, of noble birth, was compelled by 
 extreme poverty and fear of starvation to throw herself 
 upon him for protection, and Bayard, finding that she was 
 good as she was beautiful, inquired into the matter, and 
 ascertained that she was deeply attached to a young 
 man in the town who was too poor to marry her, and he 
 thereupon settled an income upon them out of his own 
 purse, so that the young couple were forthwith united, 
 to the mutual satisfaction of themselves and their 
 generous benefactor. This is merely one instance out of 
 many, as it is recorded that at different times he dowered 
 more than one hundred. poor damsels, and thus enabled 
 them to marry and live in comfort. 
 
 The year 1513 opened with a declaration of war by 
 England against France, and in June King Henry VIII.
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 79 
 
 landed at Calais and proceeded to lay siege to Terouenne. 
 The town made a brave defence, and the inhabitants 
 were at first able to get provisions into it ; but the in- 
 vestment having become closer, the rations began to 
 run short, and it became evident that the garrison must 
 soon surrender unless supplies could be passed through 
 the besiegers' lines. The French, therefore, determined 
 to send a large body of cavalry to make a feint of an 
 attack upon the English camp, and while the attention 
 of the latter was thus occupied, another party were to 
 provision the town. This plan was discovered by the 
 English, who promptly stationed a large force of 
 infantry and artillery upon the hill of Guinegate, 
 overlooking Terouenne, so that when the French 
 cavalry passed to attack the camp their retreat was 
 cut off. 
 
 Bayard, at the head of his troops, had a sharp skirmish 
 with the English and Burgundian cavalry, and was 
 commencing to retire according to arrangement, when 
 some of the other troops, seeing the large body of the 
 enemy on the hill in their rear, were seized with panic 
 and turned to fly. These fugitives galloped in upon 
 the main body, causing general confusion, which the 
 British speedily took advantage of by attacking them 
 all along the line. 
 
 The Chevalier, after in vain endeavouring to rally the 
 cavalry, retreated slowly, facing about upon his pursuers, 
 and keeping them at bay till he reached a narrow 
 bridge over a river. Here he determined to make a
 
 80 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 stand, and kept the enemy in check until a large body 
 succeeded in fording the river lower down, so as to 
 attack him from behind. Seeing them approaching, 
 and knowing that further resistance was useless, he 
 called upon his companions to save themselves, and, 
 with that presence of mind that never deserted him 
 in the direst emergencies, he galloped to a spot at 
 some distance, where he perceived a Burgundian 
 knight with his helmet off resting under a tree, 
 and putting his sword to the officer's throat, he 
 called upon him to surrender, rescue or no rescue, and 
 the latter, taken unawares and not being able to help 
 himself, was compelled to do so. Bayard thereupon 
 handed him his own sword, saying that he yielded 
 to superior numbers, and they went together to the 
 English camp. 
 
 Thus ended what is known as the " Battle of Spurs " 
 so called from the precipitous flight of the French 
 cavalry in which, though but few were slain on either 
 side, many of the most distinguished French captains, who 
 like Bayard had disdained to fly, were taken prisoner. 
 
 Terouenne capitulated shortly after, and was razed to 
 the ground, and the whole country was in a state of 
 alarm, fearing an immediate march upon Paris; but 
 instead of pushing on there, the English turned aside to 
 besiege Tournay. 
 
 Bayard, in the meantime, was detained at the 
 camp, but, believing that according to the laws of 
 Chivalry he was entitled to go free on account of the
 
 THE MIRROR OF CHIVALRY. 81 
 
 other knight having first surrendered to him, he re- 
 quested the latter to get him permission to return to 
 his own army. The Burgundian, however, looked at 
 the matter in a different light, and after debating both 
 sides of the question, they agreed to refer the dispute 
 to King Henry. The Chevalier accordingly appealed 
 to him, and was received most graciously, as his great 
 reputation deserved, and the question having been 
 stated, the King, after some consideration, decided that, 
 according to the strict laws of Chivalry, both knights 
 having surrendered to each other should be quits, and 
 that therefore Bayard was entitled to his liberty, on con- 
 dition that he would give his parole not to join the 
 French army for six weeks. 
 
 The knight agreed to these conditions, and was given a 
 safe-conduct into Flanders; but before he left, the King, 
 who recognised his great ability and merit, made him 
 offers of high rank and honour if he would enter into his 
 service. To him Bayard replied, as he had before done 
 to the Pope, and to all others who had endeavoured 
 to entice him from his allegiance, that he had but one 
 master in heaven, who was God, and one upon earth, 
 who was the King of France, and that he would serve 
 no other. Thus, notwithstanding the neglect with which 
 his extraordinary services and ability had ever been 
 received, he continued steadfastly faithful to his duty, 
 esteeming his loyalty to king and country incom- 
 parably higher than any mere personal advantage to 
 himself.
 
 82 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Shortly after this, Tournay also surrendered to the 
 British arms, but winter coming on, King Henry 
 returned home, and the campaign terminated.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 
 
 ABLY iu the year 1515, Louis XII. died, 
 and was succeeded by Francis L, then only 
 twenty-one years of age, but tall, hand- 
 some, and excelling in all martial exercises. 
 The young King was thirsting for military 
 glory, and his ambitious spirit soon drew him into new 
 schemes for the conquest of the Italian possessions 
 which the French sovereigns looked upon as their 
 lawful inheritance, and he therefore requested the 
 Chevalier and the other leaders to be in readiness to 
 take command of the army at an early date. 
 
 Having made peace with England, and entered into 
 an alliance with the Venetians, he was prepared by the 
 middle of July to cross Italy with an army of sixty 
 thousand men. The passes of Mount Cenis and Mount 
 Genevre were at this time cousidered the only practicable 
 routes .over the Alps, and a large army of Swiss already 
 occupied them, ready to fall upon the French troops, 
 disordered by their long marches, so that the King was 
 perplexed what course to pursue. This difficulty was, 
 however, soon overcome by the genius of Pedro Novarro,
 
 84 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 the celebrated engineer, who discovered that there was 
 a path to the north of Brianqon which, though never 
 before traversed by an army, might be practicable for 
 cavalry, and by this Bayard went with a troop of one 
 thousand horse. After encountering tremendous diffi- 
 culties, they got safely through, and reached the Italian 
 side without the enemy having any knowledge of their 
 approach. Here they learned that Prospero Colonna, 
 the commander of the Papal troops, was at Villa Franca 
 with only seven hundred men, and the Chevalier 
 hastened there, where his arrival was so unexpected 
 that Colonna, who was just sitting down to dinner in 
 false security, was captured, with all his men and a large 
 amount of booty, without striking a blow, and in the 
 very teeth of a body of four thousand Swiss coming to 
 his assistance who entered by one gate while the French 
 were leaving by another. 
 
 In the meantime, the main body of the army was 
 crossing the Alps by a path through the valley of 
 Barcelonette, which, though hardly safe for pedestrians, 
 was, by the daring ingenuity of Novarro, made practicable 
 even for artillery. 
 
 Enormous masses of rock had to be blown up, bridges 
 were thrown across deep chasms, and heavy guns were 
 hoisted up the heights, and swung from peak to peak ; 
 and so successful was he, that on the fifth day the army 
 stood on the plains of Saluzzo, before the Italians were 
 aware that their march had begun, which was fortunate, 
 as the French had carried only a few days' provisions, so
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 85 
 
 that their situation would have been desperate had the 
 enemy known of their approach and blockaded the pass. 
 On his arrival, Francis and the Swiss army first heard 
 of the daring capture of General Colonna, and such was 
 the consternation of the Swiss that they retired in dismay 
 to Milan, pursued by the French, who continually 
 harassed their rear. When they arrived here, negotia- 
 tions were commenced on both sides, and the Swiss had 
 been so astonished at the exploit of the invaders, that they 
 were quite prepared to enter into a treaty of peace. How- 
 ever, after its terms had been agreed upon, but before it 
 was signed, they were unexpectedly reinforced by another 
 army of twenty thousand men. As this gave them a 
 considerable superiority in numbers, they refused to com- 
 plete the treaty, and determined at once to attack the 
 French at Marignano, where the latter were encamped. 
 Accordingly, on the evening of the thirteenth Septem- 
 ber, the horns of Uri and Unterwalden resounded through 
 the streets of Milan, and the Swiss army marched 
 out in battle array. As they approached the camp, 
 the French artillery opened a heavy fire upon them, 
 but, nothing daunted, they continued their advance, and 
 were attacked on the flank by a body of French infantry. 
 After a sharp conflict, the latter were defeated and 
 driven into a morass, where they would all have been 
 slain but for Bayard, who, seeing the position of affairs, 
 charged the enemy's vanguard with his cavalry and put 
 them to flight. Just at this moment an accident occurred 
 which threatened to put an end to our hero's career, for
 
 86 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 his horse, excited by a wound from a pike, suddenly 
 slipped his bridle, and carried his helpless rider straight 
 through the enemy into a vineyard close at hand, where, 
 becoming entangled in the roots, the horse fell. The 
 Chevalier was thus enabled to dismount, and after several 
 hairbreadth escapes from capture, he got safely back 
 among his own troops. 
 
 The battle raged on till midnight without any decisive 
 advantage for either side, and the moon having gone 
 down, leaving all in darkness, both parties drew off a 
 short distance to bivouack for the night. 
 
 At daybreak the next morning the contest was 
 renewed with fresh vigour, and the Swiss attacked the 
 French artillery, and succeeded in capturing some 
 batteries ; but, on the other hand, the Constable Bourbon, 
 after repeated efforts, broke through their right wing 
 and put them to rout. After four hours' fighting, the 
 issue was still undecided, when, about nine o'clock, the 
 war-cry of the Venetian allies of the French was heard 
 in the rear of the Swiss army, and the latter, fearing that 
 they would be surrounded, began to retire, but in such 
 good order that the French were unable to inflict much 
 further loss upon them. 
 
 The young King, who had displayed the utmost 
 gallantry, was now surrounded by his knights, who 
 hailed him victor ; and he, calling upon Bayard as the 
 greatest knight of Chivalry, first asked him if he had 
 worthily earned his golden spurs that day, and receiving 
 a reply full of warm praise, requested the Chevalier to
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 87 
 
 dub him knight. Bayard at first begged to be excused, 
 saying he was unworthy of the honour of knighting his 
 sovereign, but on receiving a positive command, he 
 complied, and there, surrounded by thousands of brave 
 warriors, amid all the terrible sights and sounds of the 
 battlefield, he asked the King to kneel, and repeating 
 the formula alluding to the hero-knights of Chivalry of 
 the time of Charlemagne and the Crusades, " Sire, may 
 this be as efficacious as if done by Eoland or Oliver, 
 Godfrey or Baldwin his brother," he gave the kneeling 
 monarch three blows on the shoulder with the flat of 
 his sword, and calling upon him to rise, added, " God 
 grant that in battle you may never fly." 
 
 Thus was fought one of the great battles of the world's 
 history, in which the slaughter on both sides had been 
 tremendous, the Swiss having lost fourteen thousand on 
 the field, while of the French nearly six thousand were 
 killed, including several distinguished officers. The 
 veteran General Trivulzio, who had fought in eighteen 
 great battles, declared that all the others were mere 
 child's play compared to Marignano, which was a 
 veritable combat of giants. The Swiss army, now com- 
 pletely broken, retreated into Switzerland, and shortly 
 afterwards made peace with, the French, who took 
 undisputed possession of the whole Duchy of Milan, 
 where Francis remained till January, 1516, when he 
 returned home with Bayard and most of the army, 
 leaving the remainder in garrison under the command 
 of the Duke of Bourbon, Constable of France.
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 A profound peace throughout Europe succeeded to 
 the numerous wars which had been raging for so many 
 years, and Bayard was thus able to obtain almost the 
 .only repose he enjoyed throughout his arduous life, and 
 he resided in his own province of Dauphine*, of which 
 he had been appointed Lieut.-General ; and here he found 
 plenty of occupation in the performance of his duties as 
 Governor, and in taking part in the numerous fetes and 
 tournaments at which his presence was essential to 
 ensure success. 
 
 MEETING OF HENRY VIII. OF ENGLAND AND FRANCIS I. OF FRANCE. 
 
 During the summer of 1520 took place the famous 
 meeting between the Kings of France and England, 
 which, from the gorgeous and lavish splendour of both 
 Courts, is known to history as "The Camp of the Cloth 
 of Gold." Here Bayard came with the French nobles
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 89 
 
 and knights, of whom he was the chief ornament, and 
 once more met King Henry, whose acquaintance he had 
 made under rather unfortunate circumstances after the 
 " Battle of Spurs." A shield given by the Chevalier to 
 the King upon this occasion has been preserved in the 
 Guards' Chamber at Windsor Castle, where it may still 
 be seen. 
 
 A bitter feeling of hostility had for a long time 
 existed between Francis and the Emperor Charles V., 
 which, in 1521, culminated in the latter invading French 
 territory and capturing the frontier town of Mouzon. 
 Francis was totally unprepared for this, and as the town 
 of Mezieres, on which the Imperialists were marching, 
 was neither provisioned nor fortified to withstand a siege,' 
 he determined to destroy it and lay waste the surrounding 
 country a proceeding which, though it would ruin 
 thousands of loyal subjects, would have the effect of 
 stopping the enemy's advance through want of supplies. 
 Bayard, whose heart revolted against this cruel injustice 
 to his fellow-countrymen, strongly opposed this counsel, 
 and at length prevailed with the King by offering to go 
 himself and defend the town to the death ; and such was 
 the renown of his name, that over a hundred of the best 
 knights of France at once volunteered to follow him on 
 this forlorn hope. He accordingly hastened to Mdzieres 
 with about five thousand men, and, finding the place but 
 ill-prepared for a siege, he ordered all those who could 
 not fight to leave the town, and he at once set to work 
 to repair the fortifications and collect provisions.
 
 90 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Two days after his arrival, the Imperialist army of 
 fifteen thousand men under General Sickengen, together 
 with another body of twenty thousand men under his 
 ally the Count of Nassau, encamped before Mezieres. 
 Believing that the town could not be defended, and not 
 wishing to injure the reputation of so noble a knight as 
 Bayard by taking it by assault, they on the following 
 day sent a herald calling upon him to surrender. To 
 him the Chevalier replied, that he had been sent there 
 to defend the post, and would do so to the last ; and he 
 then called the soldiers and citizens together, and, telling 
 them that as the loss of Mezieres would leave the whole 
 country open to the enemy they had not only their own 
 safety but the honour and welfare of France in their keep- 
 ing, he made them all swear to defend it to the death. His 
 words were received with enthusiasm, and by his energy 
 and coolness he infused new courage into all, and incited 
 every man with the desire to follow his heroic example. 
 
 The Imperialists opened a heavy cannonade upon the 
 town, and attacked it on all sides, so that it required 
 the utmost vigilance on the part of the defenders to 
 prevent them from entering through the breaches. This 
 continued for three weeks without the enemy being able 
 to force an entrance, notwithstanding their immensely 
 superior forces; but Bayard was well aware that he 
 could not hold out for any length of time against such 
 overwhelming odds, and he therefore determined to try 
 stratagem, and, being ingenious as he was brave, he hit 
 upon a plan to divide the besiegers' forces.
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 91 
 
 The Duke of Bouillon, who had quarrelled with the 
 Emperor and was now in alliance with the French, was 
 a relative of the Count of Nassau, who commanded one 
 of the attacking armies ; and the Chevalier now wrote 
 the Duke a letter, saying he heard the Count was 
 secretly anxious to join the French, and would do so if 
 his cousin asked him. 
 
 This letter he gave to a countryman, directing him to 
 carry it to the Duke, and to go by a road which would 
 take him near General Sickengen's lines. The messenger 
 was, as Bayard expected, arrested before he had pro- 
 ceeded far, and the letter brought to Sickengen, who, on 
 reading it, at once took for granted that the Count of 
 Nassau, with whom he had had a dispute shortly before, 
 was secretly conspiring to desert him for the French. 
 Fearing that he would be betrayed, and thus shut in 
 between them, he at once ordered the drums to beat to 
 arms and the camp to be struck, and when all was 
 ready he retired along the road leading past the Count's 
 encampment. The latter, not understanding the cause 
 of these strange proceedings, sent to enquire, but 
 Sickengen, calling him a traitor, refused to see him or 
 his messenger, and thinking his late allies were coming 
 to attack him, the Count also put his men under arms 
 and awaited the other's approach. Bayard, who was 
 watching the success of his manoeuvre with delight, 
 now opened. a heavy artillery fire upon them, so that 
 both Generals withdrew in different directions without 
 coming to an explanation, and did not discover the
 
 92 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 trick that had been played on them for a long time 
 after. 
 
 Thus Muzieres was saved, and the approach of the 
 French army, which the King had at length succeeded 
 in raising, prevented any danger of invasion in that 
 quarter. 
 
 The Chevalier's return to Paris was a triumphal pro- 
 gress, and on all sides he was hailed as a conquering 
 hero. On his arrival at the capital he was publicly 
 received by the King and all the nobility, while the 
 Parliament thanked him in the name of the nation, 
 giving him the grateful title of Saviour of his 
 Country. 
 
 Shortly after this he returned home to Dauphins', 
 where had broken out that terrible and mysterious 
 scourge known as the plague, which in these ages carried 
 off so many millions of people whom a little know- 
 ledge of sanitary rules and precautions might have 
 saved. 
 
 It is often the case, that men endowed with great 
 physical courage, and who, under the excitement of 
 battle, will incur any risk, are the veriest cowards when 
 brought face to face with a danger that requires moral 
 strength, such as a horrible and painful disease. The 
 noble-hearted Chevalier was not one of these. The 
 chief man in the province, he set an example to all, 
 high and low, by himself going among the stricken 
 population of Grenoble, and personally attending to 
 their wants. He brought physicians from all parts,
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 93 
 
 whom he paid to attend the sick poor, for whom he 
 provided medicines and necessaries ; and the result of 
 this energetic charity was that the course of the terrible 
 plague was at length stayed, and Bayard earned the 
 gratitude of thousands who had been saved by his means, 
 and another claim to be called " the knight without fear 
 and without reproach." 
 
 The year 1523 opened with a disastrous event for 
 France. The Duke of Bourbon was the most powerful 
 nobleman in the kingdom, and had for a long time held 
 the office of Constable of France, which gave him the 
 right of commanding the van of the army in battle, with 
 authority even superior to the King's. 
 
 Francis, being probably jealous of his great power, 
 had taken an unreasonable dislike to him, which was 
 manifested by repeated insults not to be borne by the 
 haughty spirit of the Constable, who, driven to extrem- 
 ity, and forgetful of his duty to King and country, at 
 length determined upon the desperate step of leaguing 
 himself with the Emperor and Henry VIII. for the 
 invasion of France; and his treachery having been 
 discovered, he was compelled to fly for safety into 
 Germany. 
 
 At this time the King had raised a large army, which 
 he intended to command himself, for the purpose of 
 making a fresh invasion of Italy; but alarmed by 
 Bourbon's desertion, he at the last moment decided to 
 remain at home, and accordingly gave the command to 
 Bonnivet, one of his favourites, and a man of little
 
 94 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 ability or military experience. The French army, 
 numbering about forty thousand men, assembled at 
 Susa, and advanced to lay siege to Milan, while Bayard 
 was sent forward with ten thousand men to attack Lodi. 
 Bonnivet wasted the entire season in petty operations 
 which had no useful result, but the Chevalier pushed on 
 with his usual vigour, and, after driving the Duke of 
 Mantua out of Lodi, he garrisoned it with French 
 troops, and then advanced to Cremona, which he 
 besieged with such effect that the defenders were about to 
 capitulate, when the approach of the allied army com- 
 pelled him to retire into winter quarters, after gaining 
 the only success scored by the French in this campaign. 
 The war in Italy was renewed early in the spring of 
 1524, when Bourbon took supreme command of the 
 allied army, and advanced to attack his former comrades; 
 and Bonnivet now allowed himself to be outmanceuvred 
 by letting the other get in his rear, and compelling him to 
 shut himself up in Novara. The position of the French 
 here soon became unbearable, closed in as they were 
 without provisions, and it was therefore determined to 
 retire to Ivrea, so as to get into France through the 
 Bas Valais. A march of thirty miles would have placed 
 them in safety, but this short retreat proved most dis- 
 astrous, for Bourbon closely pursued the retreating 
 columns, and harassed them in every way. Bayard, who 
 had command of the rear guard, defended it with spirit, 
 and by making repeated charges kept the enemy at bay. 
 The next day the retreat was continued, and in a combat
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 95 
 
 on the Sesia, Bonnivet received a wound in the arm which 
 compelled him to resign the command of the army to the 
 Chevalier. The latter determined at all cost to save the 
 artillery and colours, and while they were being hurried 
 forward the enemy made a fierce attack on the flank. A 
 desperate struggle ensued, in which Bayard, with a small 
 troop of faithful followers, resisted for a long time the 
 whole strength of the allied army, and thus secured the 
 retreat of the French, who were now approaching Ivrea, 
 where they would be in safety. But when the van had 
 already reached this haven, and Bayard was making a 
 last charge to protect the rear, he was suddenly struck 
 by a musket shot, which fractured his spine. 
 
 He at once felt that the wound was mortal, and that 
 his last hour had come ; but even in face of the great 
 King of Terrors his presence of mind never deserted 
 him. Ordering his companions to retire, and continue 
 to protect the rear of the army, he caused himself to be 
 placed at the foot of a tree, with his face still turned to 
 the enemy, before whom he had never fled ; and in this 
 position he calmly prepared himself for death. The 
 pursuing army now approached, and the leaders were 
 dismayed to see him whom all looked upon as the 
 noblest ornament of the Order of Chivalry in this 
 position. A tent and bed were immediately brought, in 
 which the dying hero was placed with careful hands, 
 and he was tended with respectful sympathy by those 
 against whom he had been so recently fighting. The 
 Duke of Bourbon, hearing the sad news, rode up, and,
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 weeping to see his old friend and former companion in 
 arms wounded to death, addressed to him words of 
 sorrowful pity; but Bayard, rallying his failing strength, 
 replied, " I, who die happily as a knight and a patriot 
 should, desire not your compassion, which ought rather 
 be bestowed on yourself, who have the misfortune to be 
 waging war against your friends, your country, and your 
 King." He then begged to be left alone, and a guard 
 having been stationed near the tent to protect him from 
 intrusion, he remained attended only by his faithful 
 servant, and devoted himself to prayer. Using the 
 crosshilt of his sword as a crucifix, he solemnly kissed 
 it, and prayed, " My God, who has promised a refuge in 
 Thy mercy to the greatest sinners, I place all my trust 
 in Thee, and all my hope in Thy salvation;" and thus 
 solemnly recommending his soul to his Creator, he 
 breathed his last, deeply lamented by friend and 
 foe. 
 
 The French army had by this time succeeded in 
 reaching Mount St. Bernard, to the foot of which they 
 had been pursued, and the Imperial Generals having 
 caused solemn masses to be performed for him, sent the 
 remains of the dead hero into France. On the arrival 
 of the sad cortege in Dauphin^, it was escorted by the 
 entire population of the places through which it passed 
 with profound mourning till they reached Grenoble, 
 Bayard's native town and his final resting-place, where 
 his body was laid, amid the tears and blessings of a 
 sorrowing nation.
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 97 
 
 Thus died, on the 30th of April, 1524, at the age of 
 forty-eight, one of the noblest heroes of Chivalry, and his 
 death was worthy of a life spent in great and un- 
 selfish devotion to the service of his country and his 
 King. His loss was felt as a national one to France, 
 for, ever foremost in battle, he had fought for her in a 
 hundred fights; his dashing gallantry made him the 
 idol of the soldiers ; his kindly disposition, generous 
 to a fault, endeared him to the poor and distressed ; 
 while his high principles of knightly duty made 
 him the model and example of all who sought to 
 follow the noble calling of Chivalry throughout the 
 world. 
 
 The bare record of his life given in the preceding pages 
 appears to us, separated as we are by three centuries, and 
 with only the cold and imperfect light of history to guide 
 us, to be but a long series of campaigns and battles. But 
 it has been well said, "Happy is the nation or individual 
 that has no history"; and we can easily believe that 
 the best and happiest years of his life were those spent 
 in uneventful peace and quietude at his own home, 
 and among his own people, by whom he was so well 
 beloved. 
 
 But of these all too brief periods we have scanty in- 
 formation, and it is only when he is once more called 
 by the stern behest of duty to act his part with the 
 nobles of the earth in the great national drama that was 
 being enacted, that we see his noble presence re-appear 
 through the dim light of that far-off scene, and once
 
 98 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 more behold him doing true and manly work in the 
 world's great battlefield. 
 
 But it is not Bayard's courage and gallantry, con- 
 spicuous as they always were, which have earned his 
 right to be looked upon as the model of a mightier time. 
 It was because there was in him a pure and lofty 
 soul imprinting all his actions with the mark of true 
 nobility ; so that, bred up as he was from boyhood in 
 the service of arms, which at this time was of all others 
 the least likely to encourage those noble feelings of 
 humanity and pity which he ever displayed, his most 
 earnest endeavour was to mitigate the horrors and 
 suffering caused by war, and to protect the helpless and 
 distressed from lawless violence. Although his services 
 to the State were greater than those of any other man 
 of his time, they never obtained their fair recognition 
 from any of the three Kings of France whom he served ; 
 yet when he received the most brilliant offers from the 
 Pope, and at another period from King Henry VIII., 
 both of whom appreciated him better than his own 
 Sovereign, he never for one moment set his own personal 
 interest in the scale with his duty to his country. 
 
 Often pressed to use unfair means to gain an ad- 
 vantage over an opponent, his manly and open nature 
 recoiled with horror from such a course; and though 
 for many years the official receiver of the immense 
 revenues of Dauphin e, as Lieutenant-General of the 
 province, so faithful was he to his trust that he gained 
 uo pecuniary advantage from the appointment, and not-
 
 THE LAST VICTORY. 99 
 
 withstanding the large sums he acquired as his share of 
 the booty captured in the different expeditions, he died 
 without having added much to his patrimony, as almost 
 all his income had been spent in generous gifts to others. 
 In a word, he steadfastly followed all those virtues 
 which we sum up in the name 13uty, and he rightly 
 thought that no momentary gain or pleasure to himself 
 could ever compensate for a breach of the highest laws 
 of manhood. It is these traits of character, consistently 
 followed throughout his life, which make him a hero 
 indeed, and an example for a later age, when progress 
 and civilisation seem to mean but the deification of those 
 selfish ends of mere personal gain to the detriment of 
 every noble principle and ideal.
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 Que faire et que penser ? Nier, douter ou croire ? 
 Carrefour tenebreux ! triple route ! nuit noire ! 
 Le plus sage s'assied sous 1'arbre du chemin, 
 Disant tout bas : " J'irai, Seigneur, ou tu m'envoies." 
 II espere ; et, de loin, dan le trois sombres voies, 
 II ecoute, pensif, marcher le gerne humain ! 
 
 VICTOK HUGO.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INTEKLUDE. 
 
 HE period between the death of Bayard 
 | in 1524 and the birth of Sidney in 1554 
 E| shows a rapid advance in the transition 
 E| from the middle ages to modern times, 
 1 a transition which is marked by three 
 great events : the discovery of the New 
 World, the Keformation in religion, and the substitution 
 of a constitutional government over a free people for 
 the authority of a number of feudal lords over their 
 dependants. 
 
 This was the age of that splendid revival of literature 
 and of the arts known as the Eenaissance, which caused 
 not only a renewed interest in the ancient classical 
 learning, but produced most of the great original works 
 of the literature and art of modern times. The darkness 
 and ignorance which had prevailed in Europe for so 
 many centuries was first partially removed in Italy, 
 where the Greek fugitives came after the capture of 
 Constantinople by the Turks in 1453, and brought with 
 them a knowledge of, and interest in, the great classical
 
 102 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 masterpieces which soon spread among the more en- 
 lightened spirits of the age. The result of this was a 
 determined revolt in the human mind against the 
 trammels which the Church had so long imposed upon 
 it, and which was destined to revolutionise in turn the 
 spheres of religion, learning, and politics, with that 
 wonderful action and reaction which the struggle for 
 liberty in each branch had upon the others. 
 
 In the domain of literature, its effect in Italy, the 
 cradle of modern European civilisation, was speedily 
 manifested in the writings of Ariosto, and the renewed 
 study of those of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio ; while 
 in art it produced the consummate grace and dignity of 
 the paintings of Leonardo and Eaffaelle, and reached the 
 sublime in the sister arts of sculpture and architecture, 
 in the works of those masters whose names are registered 
 in the immortal roll of fame. 
 
 From Italy this noble revival was soon, by the in- 
 vention of printing, carried into the other countries of 
 Europe which the culture of Chivalry had prepared for 
 its approach, and in the time of Bayard its appearance 
 in France was marked by the erection of the exquisite 
 Palais de Justice at Eouen, the Hotel de Cluni in Paris, 
 and many other buildings of great beauty. England, 
 owing to its insular position, was later in feeling the 
 influence of the Renaissance, which, as we shall see, 
 only began to appear in the time of Sidney, before 
 which a native literature can hardly be said to have 
 existed.
 
 INTERLUDE. 103 
 
 A second remarkable effect of the awakening of human 
 intelligence and fresh research into the foundations of 
 the faith was the Eeformation, which, though arising 
 in many different places at very different periods, may 
 be dated from about the year 1520, when Luther 
 publicly burned the Pope's bull of excommunication at 
 Wittenberg, and thus formally separated himself from 
 the Koman Church. The new teaching quickly spread 
 through Germany, Switzerland, and the Netherlands; 
 but England, after the horrors of Mary's reign became, 
 under Elizabeth, completely estranged from the papal 
 fold, and was the first country that, as a nation, formally 
 embraced the reformed faith. 
 
 It is difficult for us now to realise the isolation in 
 which the Protestantism of England involved her at this 
 time, and the antagonism in which it placed her to almost 
 every other country in Europe. Excommunicated by 
 the Pope, her land given to the first invader, her subjects 
 absolved from their allegiance, and her life at the mercy 
 of any fanatic who wished to gain an easy entrance to 
 heaven, Elizabeth stood alone, protected only by the 
 loyalty of her people ; and to the eternal honour of the 
 Catholics be it said, that with but few exceptions they 
 placed patriotism before party, and, in the face of the 
 anathemas of their Church, gallantly stood by their 
 Queen against every foe. 
 
 Another most important event marking this age was 
 the invention of the compass, and through it the dis- 
 covery of the New World of America and the West
 
 104 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Indies. For centuries the Mediterranean had been con- 
 sidered to be, as its name implies, the world's great 
 centre, and all the mighty nations of ancient days 
 Israel, Egypt, Greece, Home, Carthage were washed by 
 its tideless sea, and even at the period we speak of, the 
 greatest maritime powers of the time, Spain and the 
 Italian States, were situated around it. But a new era 
 was approaching, in which Nature was to reveal an un- 
 known and mighty Empire, as yet untrodden by any of 
 the European race, and to carry the tide of civilisation 
 and commerce from East to West, to the land of the 
 setting sun. In 1492 Columbus set sail with his little 
 squadron of three ships, the largest of which was under 
 one hundred tons burthen, and after a tempestuous 
 voyage, during which he braved all the perils of naviga- 
 tion through unknown seas, and mutiny of his crew, he 
 at length discovered the Bahamas and several other im- 
 portant islands. A few years later, while making a 
 third voyage, he reached the American continent, and 
 annexed all these valuable possessions for the Spaniards, 
 by whom they were colonised, and to whom they were 
 a source of immense wealth through the discovery of 
 gold and other precious products. England was not 
 altogether without participation in these great maritime 
 discoveries, for in 1497 Sebastian Cabot, a native of 
 Bristol, sailed round the northern coast of Labrador to 
 Hudson's Bay, in the attempt to find a north-west 
 passage to India ; but it was not till long afterwards, 
 upon the outbreak of the war with the Spaniards, that
 
 INTERLUDE. 105 
 
 their weak and wealthy settlements in the West became 
 of such great interest to the hardy British sailors, who 
 were there able to attack the enemy with great profit to 
 themselves. 
 
 These were the principal events which marked the time 
 immediately preceding the birth of Sidney ; and if we 
 endeavour to picture to ourselves the position of England 
 in the middle of the sixteenth century, we shall see how 
 few signs there were of the future greatness of an empire 
 which now covers nearly one-fourth of the earth's surface. 
 
 Spain was at this period the most powerful nation in 
 Europe, and exercised more or less powerful sway over 
 Germany, Holland, Belgium, and the principal Italian 
 States, besides her West Indian possessions, and as she 
 was the most ardent supporter of the papal power, was 
 necessarily in direct antagonism to England. France 
 was also hostile to the Eeformation, and only maintained 
 an uncertain alliance with Elizabeth through fear of the 
 immense power of her Spanish rival. Scotland was still 
 a separate kingdom, and Ireland a prey to continual 
 anarchy and rebellion. We will thus see that England 
 was only beginning to take her place as a first-rate power, 
 and that her position as the head of the Reformation 
 involved an opposition to the other great powers that 
 might have been disastrous but for the heroic spirit of 
 the nation, which, when the long-threatened blow at 
 length descended in the "Invincible Armada," enabled 
 them to perform such deeds of valour and heroism as 
 dashed the haughty power of Spain from shore to shore.
 
 106 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 We shall see in the following pages how much our 
 country owes to that spirit of enterprise and adventure 
 inculcated by Chivalry, a spirit which was encouraged 
 by the extraordinary tales of discovery in the West, 
 and by the heroic struggle of a weak nation against 
 the apparently invincible might of the greatest power 
 in Europe. It was this spirit of adventure which sent 
 such men as Sir Francis Drake, Sir Walter Ealeigh, Sir 
 Martin Frobisher, and other gallant knights of the time, 
 to sail far over the seas in search of the great unknown 
 lands, and made them ready to meet whatever fortune 
 befell, as true knights should. It was the deeds of men 
 such as these which have made the British Empire what 
 it is, and in every corner of the globe heroes like them 
 have been found who have been ready to do and die 
 for England, home, and duty. 
 
 That spirit of fearless enterprise and daring which 
 has always characterised the British nation, was after- 
 wards destined to win for her America, India, and 
 Australia, and has made her strong to hold them against 
 all the world but her own children ; and it was at this 
 time displayed in many a weary voyage over unknown 
 and tempestuous seas never before crossed by man, and 
 in many a daring attack upon the haughty Spaniards' 
 possessions, when to fail meant a horrible death by 
 torture thousands of miles away from friends and succour. 
 
 Such was the Chivalry of the sixteenth century. 
 The days of knights-errant and lonely quests were fast 
 passing away, but the true knight had still noble deeds
 
 INTERLUDE. 107 
 
 to perform in sailing over the trackless seas, and laying 
 new empires open for the ever-increasing tide of humanity. 
 At the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, the military 
 and naval resources of the country were inconsiderable, 
 the exchequer was encumbered with debts, and her 
 territory was supposed by the European powers to be 
 an easy prey to the strongest, and was only protected 
 from invasion by the mutual jealousy and distrust of 
 Spain and France, neither of which would allow the 
 other to seize the prize. This precarious position is the 
 key to the apparently over-cautious policy of the first 
 half of the reign, when the uncertainty as to the loyalty 
 of a large section of the nation compelled the Govern- 
 ment to abstain from all direct interference in foreign 
 politics; and the result of this policy was to give the 
 country a long period of uninterrupted peace and 
 prosperity, during which her resources were carefully 
 husbanded for the inevitable struggle which could be 
 postponed but not avoided. For a long time before the 
 coming of the Armada, war between England and Spain 
 had been indirectly carried on at sea, where the daring 
 adventurers attacked the richly-laden Spanish galleons on 
 their return from the Indies, and captured immense booty; 
 and the hardy British sailors, believing themselves to be 
 the champions of faith and freedom, waged determined 
 war in face of tremendous odds, and thus became inured 
 to deeds of gallantry and daring, which in the end 
 made their country supreme mistress of the sea, and 
 gave her a dominion which has been retained ever since.
 
 108 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Thus Sir Francis Drake sailed from Plymouth in 
 1577, in his little ship, "the Pelican," of only one 
 hundred and twenty tons, for South America, and 
 attacked the Spanish settlements there, and after 
 braving the perils of sea and land, returned home by 
 the Cape of Good Hope, richly laden, having gained the 
 additional honour of being the first Englishman who 
 had sailed round the globe. Again, in 1585, with a 
 small squadron, he attacked Vigo, spreading dismay 
 among the Spaniards, who were too astonished at his 
 temerity to defend themselves. Sailing thence to their 
 settlements in the West Indies, he took San Domingo 
 and Carthagena by assault, and captured great booty. 
 Returning by Virginia, he found the remains of a colony 
 which had been placed there by Sir Walter Raleigh 
 some years before, and so unsuccessful was this first 
 attempt at colonisation that the settlers were glad to 
 abandon it, and return home with him. These ex- 
 peditions, from the fortunes made by the adventurers, 
 and their report of the weakness of the enemy, did 
 more than any official encouragement could to increase 
 the maritime strength of the country; and they were 
 the first of those blows which shook the Spaniards' 
 confidence in themselves, and the world's belief in their 
 invincibility. In this way was begun the foundation of 
 the maritime greatness of Britain, which was completed 
 when, in 1588, the " Invincible Armada" of one hundred 
 and fifty ships and thirty thousand soldiers and sailors 
 composed of the flower of Spanish chivalry, sailed in
 
 INTERLUDE. 109 
 
 the spring, and there returned in the autumn only the 
 shattered wrecks of fifty-four vessels, with their loads 
 of worn and starving men, most of whom had escaped 
 the British guns and the wild Northern seas only to die 
 at home, and of whom barely two hundred survived. 
 
 In the history of these early struggles we can see 
 through every page the mark of the splendid legacy 
 bequeathed to our country by the great Order of 
 Chivalry; that spirit of individual enterprise and dar- 
 ing which was the surest mark of the true knight a 
 spirit which was destined to win for Britain an empire 
 in every part of the world. India was won by the 
 East India Company of merchants, who left home and 
 country to seek their fortunes in the land of the rising 
 sun; America, by those early settlers who sought in 
 that far-off land for liberty which they could not find 
 at home to worship God in their own way ; and that 
 great empire in Oceana has been peopled by a hardy 
 band who left their homes to found another Britain in 
 the South. 
 
 The Elizabethan age in literature has been most justly 
 called the most glorious in the annals of Britain. Before 
 that time a national literature hardly existed, and it is 
 this fact which explains the apparent erudition of the 
 educated women of the time, such as Queen Elizabeth 
 and Lady Jane Grey, whose acquaintance with Greek 
 and Latin astonishes us moderns ; but in reality they 
 were no more learned than a well-educated woman of 
 the present day, whose knowledge of the masterpieces of
 
 110 
 
 THE AGP! OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 her own language more than compensates for ignorance 
 of the classics, which were at that time the only 
 resource. It was this age which gave to Britain those 
 names of world-wide and immortal fame Shakspere. 
 king of poets and dramatists; Bacon, prince of phil- 
 osophers; Spenser, sweetest of poets; and Hooker, whose 
 prose works may still be read with pleasure and delight. 
 
 THE TOWER OF LONDON. 
 
 Let us soar away for a moment on the wings of fancy, 
 and picture to ourselves some -of the noble figures which 
 might be seen gathered around their sovereign in those 
 far-off days. Elizabeth was, with all her faults, every 
 inch a Queen, and, in whatever way we look at her, the
 
 INTERLUDE. Ill 
 
 worthy ruler of a noble people ; and though she has now 
 been lying for nearly three hundred years in Henry 
 VIII.'s Chapel, her memory is still dear to the hearts 
 of a free nation. Around her was that distinguished 
 group which the last of the bards saw from the top of 
 Snowdon encircling the virgin Queen. 
 
 " Many a baron bold, 
 And gorgeous dames and statesmen old, 
 In bearded majesty." 
 
 There was Cecil, Lord Burleigh, the tried and true ; 
 Sir Francis Walsingham, the dexterous diplomatist ; 
 Lord Oxford, the impetuous ; Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, 
 the graceful and courteous ; Lord Essex, the ornament 
 of court and camp, the munificent patron of genius, 
 whom great virtues, great courage, great talents, the 
 favour of his sovereign, the love of his countrymen, all 
 that seemed to ensure a happy and glorious life, led to 
 an early and ignominious death; Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 the soldier, sailor, scholar, courtier, orator, poet, historian, 
 philosopher, whom we picture to ourselves sometimes 
 relieving the Queen's guard, sometimes giving chase to a 
 Spanish galleon, then answering the chiefs of the country 
 party in the House of Commons, then again murmuring 
 one of his sweet love-songs too near the ears of her 
 Highness's maids of honour, and soon after pouring over 
 the Talmud or collating Polybius or Livy, those two 
 incomparable men, Shakspere and Bacon, the prince of 
 poets and prince of philosophers, who have made the 
 Elizabethan age a more glorious and important era in
 
 112 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 the history of the human mind than the age of Pericles, 
 of Augustus, or of Leo ; and, lastly, the all-accomplished 
 Sidney, whose chief glory it was to represent every 
 phase of the noblest life of the time. Himself a writer 
 of truth and genius, the less fortunate literary men. of 
 merit found in him a generous patron ; the treasures of 
 the New World, and the great Empire to be won there 
 for his country, excited his warmest attention, and in 
 undying confidence in the greatness of Britain, and in 
 stern determination to carry on the battle for truth and 
 freedom to glorious victory, he gave his life on the field 
 of Zutphen. 
 
 It is by thus representing the new life of England in 
 the field of literature, in the New World enterprise and 
 discovery, in the active battle against the enemies 
 of his country, and, above all, in that pure and mag- 
 nanimous spirit which ever marked him as a true 
 descendant of the heroic knights, that he becomes so 
 fitting an example of the highest Chivalry of an age 
 renowned in the annals of our country for its lofty 
 achievements and noble deeds.
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, 
 A HERO OF ENGLAND. 
 
 One who never turned his back, but marcheJ breast forward ; 
 
 Never doubted clouds would break ; 
 
 Never dreamed, through right were worsted, wrong would triumph ; 
 Held we fall to rise, are baftled to fight better, 
 Sleep to wake. 
 
 BROWNING.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 
 
 N" a sweet Kentish valley, in sight of the 
 flowing Medway, Philip Sidney was born 
 on 29th November, 1554, at the family 
 mansion of Punshurst. It was the reign 
 of Mary the unfortunate, and the martyrs' 
 fires had already begun to burn while he was lisping his 
 mother tongue and learning the first secrets of existence; 
 but although his family were in no way involved in 
 the religious troubles of the time, his early years were 
 clouded by the tragic fate of those near and dear. The 
 Sidneys were a knightly race, tracing back their descent 
 for four hundred years, ever loyal to their sovereign ; 
 but by the mother's side he was closely related to the 
 Dudleys, she being the daughter of the Duke of North- 
 umberland, who, with his son Guildford Dudley, had 
 been beheaded about a year before our hero's birth for 
 the attempt to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne. 
 
 Thus his youth was clouded by family misfortunes which 
 cast a gloom over his home and this may have been the 
 cause of that serious demeanour and precocious wisdom 
 which characterised him at an early age and were the 
 first lessons taught by that great schoolmistress, Sorrow.
 
 110 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 For ten years he lived quietly at Penshurst, rambling 
 through the leafy woods, and over " the pleasant lower 
 land that to the river bends" of which Ben Jonson 
 writes ; and something of the sadness which had fallen 
 upon the country seems to have penetrated even into 
 this sheltered retreat. 
 
 In November, 1564, he was entered, at the same time 
 as his lifelong friend Fulke Greville, as a scholar at 
 Shrewsbury, which at this time is said to have been 
 " the largest school in all England for the education of 
 youth, Thomas Ashton the first schoolmaster of which 
 being a person of great worth and integrity." 
 
 Here he was near his father, Sir Henry Sidney, who, 
 as Lord President of Wales, lived in state at Ludlow 
 Castle, about thirty miles distant on the southern border 
 of Shropshire. 
 
 He was an apt pupil, and as Fulke Greville writes, 
 " Of his youth I will report no other wonder than this, 
 that though I lived with him, and knew him from a 
 child, yet I never knew him other than a man with 
 such staidness of mind, lovely and familiar gravity, as 
 carried grace and reverence above greater years, his 
 talk ever of knowledge, and his very play tending to 
 enrich his mind, so as even his teachers found in him 
 something to observe and learn above that which they 
 had usually read or taught ; which eminence by nature 
 and industry made his worthy father style Sir Philip 
 in my hearing, though I unseen, Lumen families 
 suce"
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 117 
 
 Sir Henry Sidney's duties prevented him from seeing 
 much of his son during these earlier years, but he 
 endeavoured to make up for his absence by letters of 
 fatherly advice, which for sound wisdom and good sense 
 have never been surpassed. Thus he says : 
 
 " Be courteous of gesture and affable to all men, with 
 diversity of reverence according to the dignity of the person, 
 there is nothing that winneth so much with so little cost ; 
 use moderate diet, so as after your meal you may find your 
 wit fresher and not duller, and your body more lively and 
 not more heavy. Seldom drink wine, and yet sometimes 
 do, lest being enforced to drink upon the sudden you should 
 find yourself entiamed ; use exercise of body, yet such as is 
 without peril of your bones, it will increase your force and 
 enlarge your health. Delight to be cleanly as well in all 
 parts of your body as in your garments, it shall make you 
 grateful in each company and otherwise loathsome. Give 
 yourself to be merry, for you degenerate from your father 
 if you find not yourself most able in wit and body to do 
 anything when you be most merry, and let your mirth be 
 ever void of all scurrility and biting words to any man, for 
 a wound given by a word is oftentimes harder to be cured 
 than that which is given with the sword. Be you rather a 
 hearer and learner of other men's talk than a beginner and 
 procurer of speech. If you hear a wise sentence or an apt 
 phrase, commit it to your memory with respect of the 
 circumstance when you shall speak it. Let never oath be 
 heard to come out of your mouth,, nor word of ribaldry. 
 Be modest in each assembly, and rather be rebuked of light 
 fellows for maidenlike shamefacedness than of your sad 
 friends for pert boldness. Think upon every word that you 
 will speak before you utter it, and remember how nature 
 hath ramparted up, as it were, the tongue with teeth, lips, 
 yea, and hair without the lips, and all betokening reins or 
 bridles for the loose use of that member. Above all things 
 tell no untruth, no, not in trifles, the custom of it is naughty."
 
 118 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Philip Sidney remained at Shrewsbury school till the 
 middle of 1568, when he left it to enter Christ Church, 
 Oxford, where for three years he diligently studied the 
 classics, history, and philosophy, for which the University 
 was then famous, and formed several life-long friend- 
 ships ; but he was compelled to leave without taking a 
 degree, owing to the Colleges being closed on account of 
 a terrible plague which broke out in the City. 
 
 A few years' travel on the Continent was at this time con- 
 sidered an essential part of every gentleman's education, 
 and accordingly, in May, 15 72, when eighteen years of age, 
 he left England for a tour through Europe, and made his 
 first stop at Paris, where he arrived at an eventful moment. 
 
 The wars which had for years been waged in France 
 between the Duke of Guise's party and the Huguenots 
 were apparently ended, and peace was to be cemented 
 by the marriage of the Protestant leader, Henry of 
 Navarre, to Margaret, sister of King Charles the Ninth. 
 
 Most of the prominent Huguenots, including the 
 Admiral Coligni, the Prince of Conde*, and Count Louis 
 of Nassau, had come to Paris to be present at the 
 ceremony ; and in that gay city of pleasure all was joy 
 and merriment after long years of strife. 
 
 Sidney's introduction to Sir Francis Walsingham, the 
 British Ambassador, at once, admitted him to the inner 
 circle of the French Court, and he was appointed by 
 the King Gentleman-in-ordinary to the Bedchamber, 
 and became acquainted with most of the leaders of both 
 parties in the State.
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 119 
 
 On the 18th August the marriage was celebrated in 
 the Cathedral of Notre Dame with stately pomp and 
 ceremony, and the next five days were given up to 
 rejoicing, with daily jousts, dances, and triumphal 
 shows, till 1 the sun set on the eve of the Feast of 
 St. Bartholomew. 
 
 That night the whole city seemed wrapped in peaceful 
 slumber, when suddenly, at two in the morning, the 
 palace bell pealed a sudden alarm which echoed through 
 the silent streets. In an instant lights were placed in 
 every window, soldiers emerged from hitherto dark 
 corners, and thousands of men, armed and disguised, 
 with the mark of the cross fastened to their sleeves, 
 streamed out of the houses and joined in the cry, " For 
 God and the King !" All was confusion, and the shouts 
 of the murderers and cries of the helpless Huguenots 
 were mingled in the midnight air. For days the 
 butchery continued, while the wretched King stood at 
 his palace window encouraging the assassins with the 
 cry of " Kill, kill !" The streets flowed with blood, and 
 in Paris and the provinces over a hundred thousand 
 Huguenots were slaughtered. 
 
 During all this time Sidney was in comparative 
 security at the Ambassador's house, but he had seen 
 enough of France, and so, as soon as it was safe, he 
 hastily proceeded through Lorraine to Strasburg, and 
 thence past Heidelberg to Frankfort. 
 
 Here he met Hubert Languet, one of the prominent 
 reformers, with whom, though much older than himself,
 
 120 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 he formed a warm friendship which lasted through life. 
 To this friend more than to any other he owed the 
 high ideal which he ever kept before him, and which 
 the former did everything in his power to encourage. 
 It is of him that Sidney writes in his " Arcadia" 
 
 ' ' For clerkly reed and hating what is naught, 
 For faithful heart, clean hands, and mouth as true, 
 With his sweet skill my skilless youth he drew 
 To have a feeling taste of Him that sits 
 Beyond the heavens, far more beyond our wits." 
 
 After remaining some time together at Frankfort, 
 the two friends left it early in the summer of 1573 for 
 Vienna, where they parted, and Sidney continued his 
 journey into Italy. 
 
 In this land of culture and of art he spent his time 
 in studying the useful arts and sciences at the fountain- 
 head of learning, and in making himself acquainted 
 with the state of political affairs in Europe, a knowledge 
 of which was eminently necessary for his future career. 
 Here also he became acquainted with many of the 
 greatest men of the time, including Paul Veronese, 
 Titian, and Tintoretto, and returned home early in June, 
 1575, after an absence of three years. 
 
 He reached England just in time to join in a royal 
 progress the Queen was making through the country, 
 and her first visit was to Kenilworth Castle, the seat of 
 Sidney's uncle, the Earl of Leicester, who had deter- 
 mined to give her such a reception as subject had 
 never before given to sovereign. Sidney, fresh from
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 121 
 
 his travels, and being introduced to Court-life by his 
 uncle, the Queen's chief favourite, entered heartily into 
 all the plans for her entertainment during her stay at 
 Kenilworth, and each day vied with the other in gorgeous 
 pageants and spectacles. At the termination of the royal 
 visit he returned to London, where he took up his posi- 
 tion at Court, and was in constant attendance upon the 
 Queen, and rapidly gained the esteem of the noblest of 
 those who surrounded the person of their sovereign. 
 
 But his active spirit was ever on the look-out for 
 some useful employment, and in the autumn of 1576 
 he got his initiation into diplomacy, being appointed 
 Ambassador-Extraordinary from the Queen to Kudolf 
 II., the new Emperor of Germany, to congratulate him 
 on his election to the Empire. He also, at his own 
 request, obtained leave to endeavour to carry out his 
 pet scheme of forming a league of the Protestant princes 
 of Germany, for the protection of liberty of religious 
 worship, and the resistance of the tyranny of Spain. 
 Leaving England in February, 1577, he journeyed in 
 state with his retinue to Prague, where the Emperor 
 was then residing. Maximilian, the late Emperor, 
 though a Catholic, allowed full liberty of religious wor- 
 ship throughout his dominions, and had steadily resisted 
 the usurpation of Spain; but the new Emperor, who 
 had been educated in that country, had no sooner been 
 elected than the persecution of the reformers began. 
 Sidney had therefore been instructed to endeavour to 
 induce him to follow in his father's footsteps, and this
 
 122 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 he did with great boldness, pointing out in the Queen's 
 name the danger which, in the alliance between the 
 Pope and the King of Spain for the spiritual and tem- 
 poral dominion of the world, menaced the freedom of 
 the German States, and that the only way to resist this 
 was for the latter " to associate by an uniform bond of 
 conscience for the protection of Liberty and Eeligion." 
 
 But the Emperor was not to be won over by his 
 reasoning, and replied haughtily, thanking the Queen 
 for her good wishes, but that as to his policy, God, who 
 was the protector of the Empire, would provide him 
 with fit counsel for its government ; and so the audience 
 ended, Sidney finding there was nothing to be gained 
 through him. 
 
 He had also been commissioned to visit Louis and 
 Casimir, the sons of the Elector Palatine, who had 
 lately died, to convey to them the Queen's message of 
 condolence, and to counsel them to unite in defence 
 of the common faith, Louis being a Lutheran and 
 Casimir a Calvinist, and through their differences dis- 
 putes having arisen between the two sections of the 
 Eeformed Church. 
 
 Sidney therefore left Prague, and went to Heidelberg 
 to see the Elector Louis, and impressed upon him, as he 
 had already done upon Prince Casimir, the necessity for 
 all to join together in these critical times in defence of 
 their religion and liberty. After a satisfactory interview 
 with the Elector, he then went on to visit some of the 
 most important of the other Protestant German princes,
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 123 
 
 to urge upon them, in the Queen's name, the necessity for 
 union and concord ; but on the whole he found the result of 
 this part of his mission very discouraging, these princes 
 having no care but to make the best of the distressed 
 state of their country for their own private advantage. 
 
 He was now about to return home, having fulfilled 
 the terms of his commission, when he received a letter 
 from the Queen, directing him to proceed to Flanders 
 to present Her Majesty's congratulations to the Prince 
 of Orange upon the birth of his son. The history of 
 the gallant struggle of the Dutch Republic, under the 
 immortal "William the Silent, against the oppression of 
 Spain, backed up by all the horrors of the Inquisition, 
 is so closely connected with the history of England at 
 this period, and with it the life of Sidney, that it is 
 necessary to explain the position of affairs there at the 
 time of his visit. The wealthy and independent 
 merchants of Flanders had, at an early period, obtained 
 political privileges which were unknown in the rest of 
 Europe, and had, after a hard struggle, won a constitu- 
 tional government, and the right of electing represen- 
 tatives to a general assembly of the States, without the 
 sanction of which the Duke had no power to levy taxes 
 or otherwise exercise any arbitrary power. When, 
 however, the Kings of Spain, who had absolute authority 
 in their own dominions, acquired the sovereignty of the 
 Netherlands, they at once began a system of silent but 
 gradual encroachment on their liberties, which was with 
 equal steadiness resisted by this free and gallant people.
 
 124 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 Thus matters stood at the accession of Philip II. 
 to the crown of Spain, when matters became further 
 complicated by the progress which the principles of the 
 Eeformation made among the people of the Netherlands, 
 and Philip II., the most fanatical of bigots and most 
 absolute of monarchs, determined to crush at the same 
 time their political freedom and heretical opinions, and 
 to attain these ends he did not hesitate to commit the 
 most horrible barbarity upon a peaceful and unoffending 
 country which history has ever recorded. A large army 
 was sent to the Netherlands, under one of the most 
 skilful and most ruthless generals; martial law was 
 proclaimed throughout the country, and blood-councils 
 were established before which thousands of helpless and 
 unoffending victims were dragged, and condemned to 
 wholesale slaughter. But the brave and hardy Hol- 
 landers were not thus to be crushed, and fortunately 
 for them they found a leader who, for courageous and 
 unselfish patriotism, has never been surpassed, and 
 whom the direst failure and defeat never seemed to 
 discourage William, Prince of Orange. Town after 
 town was besieged by the Spaniards, and defended by 
 the inhabitants with unflinching heroism men, women, 
 and children banding themselves together in defence of 
 their homes and religion, and fighting with undaunted 
 courage against the most renowned soldiers in Europe ; 
 and when at length, starved out or taken by assault, 
 one city after another was given up to ruthless massacre, 
 the undaunted patriots raised the standard of liberty in
 
 AS SCHOLAR AND STUDENT. 125 
 
 another, and so for years the fight went on. At one 
 time so hard pressed that they were compelled to break 
 down their dykes and let the sea and rivers cover their 
 fields and homes rather than give the cruel Spaniard a 
 foot of ground to stand upon, this brave little people 
 fought a battle in which the whole world and especially 
 England was concerned, for it was the war of liberty 
 and religion against tyranny and superstition in which 
 Britain had soon to join. 
 
 The Prince of Orange was in the midst of this great 
 warfare when Sidney visited him and found him in 
 council with the leading patriots, a citizen prince among 
 his fellow-citizens, and yet, though more plainly dressed 
 than any, showing that he was still every inch a prince ; 
 and the Englishman was filled with admiration for the 
 gallant leader of a gallant people, and his whole soul 
 burned with longing to join in the great struggle on 
 behalf of the sacred principles for which they were 
 fighting a struggle which, notwithstanding the death 
 of their noble leader eight years after by the hands of 
 an assassin employed by the King of Spain, at length 
 ended in glorious victory. 
 
 The interview caused mutual admiration and esteem 
 between the two men, and the Prince afterwards 
 informed Queen Elizabeth, that he considered her 
 Ambassador would become one of the greatest states- 
 men of his age. 
 
 With his customary desire to become personally 
 acquainted with the leaders of all parties, Sidney took
 
 126 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 advantage of his proximity to pay a formal visit to the 
 new Spanish Governor-General of the Provinces, the 
 famous J)on John of Austria, who had inflicted such an 
 overwhelming defeat upon the Turks at the battle of 
 Lepanto, and had now come resolved to crush the rebels. 
 He received the British Ambassador with affability ; 
 but as he was suspected of designing an attack upon 
 England, Sidney did not waste much show of friendship 
 on him. 
 
 His work being now completed, he left Flanders, and 
 arrived in England by the middle of June, having 
 gained the friendship and goodwill of all whom he met, 
 and being highly commended for the satisfactory manner 
 in which he had discharged his duties.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 
 
 HE embassy which Sidney had so suc- 
 cessfully conducted, as related in the 
 last chapter, marks the decisive step 
 from youth to manhood, and he now 
 took his place among the most pro- 
 mising men of Elizabeth's Court. He 
 was just twenty-two years old, but with a mind and 
 appearance far beyond his age, and he is described as 
 being above the middle height, with an exceedingly 
 graceful and dignified carriage, and a courtly yet modest 
 demeanour, " not only of an excellent wit, but extremely 
 beautiful of face, with handsome delicately chiselled 
 features, smooth fair cheeks, a fair moustache, blue eyes, 
 and a mass of amber-coloured hair." His nature had 
 all the daring and romance of the knight-errant, with 
 the calm wisdom of the philosopher and statesman, and 
 his open and winning manner made him liked and 
 respected by all. 
 
 He had been steadily growing in favour at Court, and 
 at this time all his influence there was necessary on
 
 128 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 behalf of his father, who, as Lord Deputy of Ireland, 
 had by his fair and impartial government made many 
 enemies among the Irish nobles, who considered they 
 should be exempted from taxation, which should only 
 be levied from the impoverished peasantry ; and as Sir 
 Henry Sidney had demanded more money to carry on 
 the work of pacification, the Queen, whose great fault 
 was excessive economy, was only too ready to listen to 
 complaints against his administration. To counteract 
 this, and defend his father in his absence, Philip Sidney 
 drew out an elaborate statement of the position of Irish 
 affairs and the wisdom of the Lord Deputy's rule, 
 showing that a lenient and vacillating policy would 
 not " prevail in minds so possessed as the Irish with a 
 natural inconstancy, with a revengeful hate to all English 
 as their only conquerors, and that even when left to 
 themselves, no nation under the sun lived more tyran- 
 nously than they do over each other." This statement, 
 which was described by an eminent authority as " the 
 most excellent discourse he had ever read," produced a 
 favourable effect upon the Queen, who found herself 
 compelled by the stern logic of facts to support Sir 
 Henry Sidney's firm administration. 
 
 For the next two years Philip Sidney remained in 
 constant attendance at the Court, exerting his influence 
 in a quiet and unostentatious way in favour of any 
 deserving object that came under his notice ; but in spite 
 of his wide popularity he soon tired of this unreal life, 
 and longed to engage in the active conflict for truth and
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 129 
 
 liberty which was being waged in the Netherlands. 
 His thoughts naturally found vent in poetry : 
 
 ' ' Well was I while under shade, 
 Oaten reeds me music made, 
 Striving with my mates in song, 
 Mixing mirth our songs among. 
 Greater was the shepherd's treasure, 
 Than this false, fine, courtly pleasure." 
 
 He bitterly complained of the cautious policy of the 
 Queen and her advisers, who, for fear of giving offence 
 to Spain, avoided taking any steps towards forming a 
 union with the other Protestant States for mutual 
 protection against Spanish and Papal tyranny ; and but 
 lor the state of his father's affairs, which required his 
 constant presence at Court, and the society of his two 
 bosom friends, Edmund Dyer and Fulke Greville, he 
 would, notwithstanding the Queen's disapproval, have 
 joined William the Silent's army, or gone out in com- 
 mand of one of the numerous expeditions in search of 
 new countries, the discoveries of which were then 
 creating such intense excitement in Europe. 
 
 But there was a still stronger tie to bind him to the 
 Court, and this was his gradually increasing regard for 
 Penelope Devereux, sister of the young and ill-fated 
 Earl of Essex, a beautiful girl of seventeen, for whom he 
 had a warm affection, which seems to have been recipro- 
 cated by her; but owing to her youth, and his occupation 
 in other important affairs, matters at this time did not 
 advance any further between them, and he often after- 
 wards bitterly repented of having let slip this golden
 
 130 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 opportunity of winning the object of his affections. In 
 all the manly sports and exercises in which he was so 
 proficient he looked to her approval as the highest re- 
 ward, and writes of himself: 
 
 ' ' Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance 
 Guided so well that I obtained the prize, 
 Both by the judgment of the English eyes 
 And of some sent by that sweet enemy France, 
 Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance, 
 Townsfolk my strength ; a daintier judge applies 
 His praise to sleight, which from good use doth rise ; 
 Some lucky wits impute it but to chance ; 
 Others, because of both sides I do take 
 My blood from theirs who did excel in this, 
 Think nature me a man of arms did make. 
 How far they shoot awry ! the true cause is, 
 Stella looked on, and from her heavenly face 
 Sent forth the beams which made so fair my race." 
 
 Throughout his Court life he ever kept the object 
 before him of using his influence for worthy objects, and 
 never for his own personal advancement ; and in many 
 instances he is found interceding with his Sovereign on 
 behalf of loyal subjects in difficulty or disgrace, and 
 thus using on their behalf means which would have 
 been employed by other courtiers for their own selfish 
 ends. But in order to succeed as a Court favourite, it 
 was necessary to natter the Queen in the most barefaced 
 manner, and to support all her whiuis and caprices, 
 however injurious they might be to the State; and to a 
 man of Sidney's open, straightforward character, such a 
 course was utterly impossible.
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 131 
 
 He was now to be put to a severe test in being com- 
 pelled to choose between his own advancement and the 
 good of his country, for the Queen was contemplating a 
 marriage with the Duke of Anjou, brother of the King 
 of France. Her most faithful advisers easily discerned 
 that an alliance with a Prince whose interests were 
 directly opposed to those of England, and who, on 
 account of his principles and religion, was an object of 
 extreme dislike to the nation, would be most unwise ; 
 and to Sidney as the most able, and at the same time 
 most popular of the party, was deputed the difficult 
 task of openly remonstrating with his Sovereign on 
 this subject. That such a task, in this age of absolute 
 monarchy, was not only of extreme delicacy but also 
 of considerable danger, is seen from the fact that 
 the author and printer of a pamphlet directed against 
 the proposed marriage had been condemned to have 
 their right hands cut off, a 'sentence which was duly 
 carried out. 
 
 But Sidney was not to be deterred from his duty by 
 any feeling of personal risk, and in a plain but respect- 
 ful address to the Queen he pointed out the objections 
 to the alliance on which she had set her heart. She 
 was, as may be imagined, exceedingly offended at his 
 boldness in presuming to dictate to her on the subject ; 
 and his friends, fearing he would be exiled from the 
 country, advised him to retire from Court for a time, 
 which he did by going to reside at Wilton with his 
 sister, the Countess of Pembroke, to whom he was
 
 132 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 deeply attached, and with whom, notwithstanding his 
 loss of favour, he spent many happy months occupied 
 in study and literary works. 
 
 After the expiration of eight months, however, he 
 received an intimation of the Queen's willingness to 
 restore him to favour, on condition that he did not 
 persist in his useless opposition to the French mar- 
 riage; and being strongly advised by his friends to 
 return to public life, where he had better opportunities 
 of using his great talents for the nation's benefit, he 
 decided to do so. But before he returned to Court, 
 he was destined to meet with the great sorrow of his 
 life in the marriage of Penelope Devereux, her friends 
 having taken advantage of his absence in disgrace to 
 arrange for her betrothal against her own inclination 
 to Lord Rich, a wealthy but worthless nobleman. 
 Sidney, in his first bitter grief and disappointment, 
 seems to have judged her ready compliance with 
 her friends' wishes too harshly, and wrote the dirge 
 beginning 
 
 Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread, 
 
 For love is dead ! 
 All love is dead, infected 
 
 With plague of deep disdain ; 
 Worth, as nought worth, rejected, 
 And faith fair scorn doth gain. 
 From so ungrateful fancy, 
 From such a female frenzy, 
 From them that use men thus, 
 Good Lord, deliver us !
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 133 
 
 He appears to have soon discovered the true facts of 
 the case, which were that " she, being in the power of 
 her friends, was married against her will to one against 
 whom she did protest at the very solemnity and ever 
 after, between whom from the first day there ensued 
 continual discord." Such a trouble as this was likely 
 to sour and embitter the noblest nature, and Sidney, in 
 his anger against a cruel fate, for some time allowed 
 himself to stoop to the unworthy practice of still con- 
 tinuing to pay his addresses, and to pour out his love 
 in passionate sonnets to her under the name of Stella. 
 Of this one blot in his noble record he soon bitterly 
 repented, and in his poem of " Astrophel and Stella," 
 which we shall hereafter consider, he shows the hard 
 struggle and final victory over self and his lower nature, 
 and the stern lesson of self-denial and renunciation 
 which this struggle taught him a lesson which was to 
 bear abundant fruit in a noble life and a heroic death. 
 
 He wisely determined to seek the only true solace 
 for such a sorrow by plunging into the thick of active 
 life, and endeavouring in the distraction of work and 
 duty to forget his own personal troubles. Early in 
 1581 he was elected to a seat in the House of Commons, 
 and worked actively on committees appointed to take 
 measures for the defence of the country and the pro- 
 tection of the Queen against seditious plots. Iii April, 
 the Duke of Bourbon, accompanied by a retinue of 
 French nobles, came over as delegate on behalf of the 
 Duke of Aujou to arrange the terms of his marriage
 
 134 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 contract with the Queen; and in order to impress them 
 with the importance of the occasion, and show their 
 respect and loyalty towards their Sovereign, it was 
 decided by the English nobles to hold a splendid 
 tournament, which would afford an opportunity for the 
 display of the prowess and valour of the most eminent 
 knights of the time. The design of the tournament 
 was allegorical; a small but gorgeously decorated 
 fortress having been erected in the tilt-yard at White- 
 hall, and this was supposed to be the abode of Elizabeth 
 as the Queen of Beauty, and was to be attacked by the 
 four chosen champions, Lord Arundel, Lord Windsor, 
 Philip Sidney, and Fulke Greville, who were to 
 challenge all comers to joust with them for the favour 
 of the sovereign of the tourney. 
 
 On the morning of the tournament the four challengers 
 took up their positions opposite the Fortress of Beauty, 
 splendidly arrayed, and with a large suite of attendants. 
 On the one side was Lord Arundel, and on the other 
 Fulke Greville, while Lord Windsor and Philip Sidney 
 occupied the middle, the latter being dressed in a 
 magnificent suit of blue and gilt armour, and mounted 
 on a splendid charger, while in his train were thirty 
 gentlemen and yeomen and four trumpeters, all arrayed 
 in magnificent costumes, with four spare horses led by 
 pages. 
 
 His reputation as one of the most skilful knights of 
 the day prevented him from being challenged by any 
 but worthy foes, and at the end of the first day of the
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 135 
 
 tournament the challengers, though still unconquered, 
 found themselves hard pressed by the number of those 
 who had come to try conclusions with them. On the 
 next day the contest was continued with renewed vigour 
 by a new set of opponents, and though the challengers, 
 and especially Sidney, were by all allowed to have won 
 the day by holding their own for so long against all 
 comers, they were at length compelled by physical 
 fatigue to send an envoy with an olive branch in his 
 hand, who, approaching the throne of the Queen of 
 Beauty, acknowledged that the Four Foster Children of 
 Desire, as the challengers called themselves, were 
 defeated in their essay against her fortress. Thus ended 
 one of the most gorgeous pageants of the time, in which 
 Sidney had well upheld his reputation as the model of 
 British knighthood. 
 
 During the next year or so he remained at Court, 
 fulfilling his duties there, and occupying all his leisure 
 moments in the various compositions of which an 
 account is given in the next chapter. 
 
 He had already on many occasions worthily earned 
 his golden spurs, and the Queen now determined to 
 confer on him the rank of knighthood, in order to enable 
 him to appear as deputy for his friend Prince Casimir 
 at the latter's installation as a Knight of the Garter. 
 Accordingly, on eighth January, 1583, he was admitted 
 into the order of knighthood with the usual ceremonies, 
 and thenceforth became known as Sir Philip Sidney, 
 Knight of Penshurst. On the thirteenth of the same
 
 136 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 month he presented himself at St. George's Chapel, 
 Windsor, to be installed as Knight of the Garter for 
 
 Prince Casimir, 
 the latter being 
 unable to attend, 
 and having nomi- 
 nated him as " his 
 very dear friend," 
 to act as his proxy 
 at the ceremony. 
 Still burning 
 with eager desire 
 to take part in 
 the adventurous 
 expeditions of 
 the day, he with 
 great difficulty 
 obtained a char- 
 ter from the 
 Queen, authoris- 
 ing him to search 
 out and colonise 
 territory on the 
 continent of 
 America; but not 
 having sufficient 
 means to equip a 
 
 ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR. fleet of discovery 
 
 (Banners of the Knights of tin Garter.) he WaS obliged tO
 
 AS COURTIER AND STATESMAN. 137 
 
 assign his rights to Sir George Peckham, and postpone 
 his adventurous intentions for the present. During 
 all this time he was bravely struggling with his passion 
 for Lady Rich, and his poem of "Astrophel and 
 Stella" clearly displays the conflict he was passing 
 through. 
 
 The earlier sonnets are all addressed to her, though 
 the wife of another, in terms of passionate love, and she 
 seems to have been a not unwilling recipient of his 
 homage; but his better nature soon began to appear, 
 and, as the poem proceeds, the dictates of truth and duty 
 urge him to free himself from such a debasing feeling, 
 and to follow the ideal of life and light he had so long 
 consistently pursued. The later sonnets show how nobly 
 he succeeded in conquering himself, and the following is 
 his beautiful poean of victory : 
 
 "Leave me, O love, which reach est but to dust, 
 And thou my mind aspire to higher things ; 
 Grow rich in that which never taketh rust, 
 Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. 
 
 Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might 
 To that sweet yoke, where lasting freedoms be, 
 
 Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light 
 That doth both shine and give us sight to see. 
 
 O take fast hold ! let that light be thy guide 
 
 In this small course which birth draws out to death, 
 
 And think how evil becometh him to chide, 
 
 Who seeketh heaven and comes of heavenly breath. 
 
 Then farewell world, thy uttermost I see ; 
 
 Eternal Love, maintain thy life in me. "
 
 138 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 The romance of his life was over, and though for him 
 the supreme joy of love was not to be, yet in following 
 the plain path of duty, and manfully endeavouring to do 
 the right, he had still hope for the future; and it was 
 not the least part of his burden, that the love which he 
 had failed to keep or win from the idol of his heart was 
 freely accorded to him by others of nobler birth and 
 greater fortune, to all of whom he turned a deaf ear. For 
 years Sir Francis Walsingham, the Secretary of State, had 
 been one of his greatest friends ; and in furthering his 
 effort to follow out the plan he had set before him, and 
 tear himself away from the evil influences of his life, he, 
 in March, 1583, married Frances, the Secretary's eldest 
 daughter. Although in every way he made her a good 
 husband, his was not one of those natures that can love 
 twice, and he seems in making her his wife to have 
 been actuated more by friendship than by any stronger 
 feeling.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 
 
 T has been mentioned that during the 
 events related in the preceding chapter 
 Sidney was often employed in literary 
 work ; and in considering the products 
 of his genius, we must remember that, 
 believing in the rnaxim of Cicero that 
 all virtue consisted in action, authorship was to him 
 merely the pastime of his idle hours, for he expected to 
 fulfil his life-work in the performance of the active 
 duties of a soldier and statesman ; and as Fulke Greville 
 says, " His end was not writing even while he wrote, 
 but both his wit and understanding bent upon his heart 
 to make himself and others, not in words or opinion but 
 in life and action, good and great." 
 
 He was early known as a generous patron of the less 
 fortunate authors of his time, and innumerable works 
 on every conceivable subject were dedicated to him as 
 to one specially conversant with each of the themes 
 treated of by them. Spenser dedicated the " Sheapherd's 
 Kalendar" to "him that was the president of nobleness 
 and chivalry," and in his house at Penshurst that poet
 
 140 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 began his immortal "Faerie Queene," which still holds 
 an honoured place in English literature. Sidney, Spenser, 
 and several other leading writers of the time established 
 a literary club, which they called the Areopagus, and 
 endeavoured by it to found a new school of poetry, in 
 which certain rules of English syllables were prescribed, 
 in order to substitute the classical metres of hexameters, 
 iambics, &c., instead of rhyme, and of which the follow- 
 ing verse of Sidney's, in which he sets a shepherd to 
 make love in hexameters without either much sense or 
 rhythm, is an example : 
 
 " Lady reserved of the heavens to do pastor's company honour, 
 Joining your sweet voice to the rural muse of the desert, 
 Here you fully do find the strange operation of love, 
 How to the woods love runs as well as rides to the palace ; 
 Neither he bears reverence to a prince nor pity to a beggar, 
 But, like a point in the midst of a circle, is still of a nearness, 
 All to a lesson he draws ; neither hills nor caves can avoid him." 
 
 That such an attempt as this, to substitute the 
 quantities of feet and syllables in English poetry in 
 place of the natural rhyme of verse, should have been 
 made not merely as an exercise of ingenuity, as has been 
 done in a few instances by Coleridge, Tennyson, and 
 many modern poets, but in sober earnest, shows the 
 great influence of the classical authors at this time, and 
 the early stage at which a national English literature 
 then stood. But the good sense of the finer spirits 
 among them soon discovered that the classical metres 
 were totally inapplicable to English verse, and as Nash 
 said, " Though it be. a gentleman of an ancient house, yet
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 141 
 
 this clime of ours he cannot thrive in. Our speech is 
 too craggy for him to set his plough in. He goes 
 twitching and hopping in our language like a man 
 running upon quagmires,, up the hill in one syllable and 
 down the dale in another, retaining no part of that 
 stately, smooth gait which he vaunts himself with 
 amongst the Greeks and Latins." 
 
 The importance of Sidney's own works is derived not 
 so much from their intrinsic merit, though that is very 
 great, as from the fact that he was the precursor of that 
 glorious burst of literary genius which has made the 
 Elizabethan age unrivalled in the history of literature, 
 and from him many of those who came after derived 
 their first inspiration, and erected mightier structures 
 on a foundation which he had laid. 
 
 His principal works are the "Arcadia," a pastoral 
 romance written for his sister, the Countess of Pem- 
 broke, and never intended for publication ; the poem of 
 " Astrophel and Stella," comprising the various sonnets 
 addressed by him to Lady Eich ; and " The Defence of 
 Poesie," a statement of the methods and uses of poetry, 
 with a criticism of the most important English poems 
 then extant. 
 
 The heroes of the " Arcadia" are two youthful princes 
 of Greece, Musidorus and Pyrocles, who, being bound 
 by the closest ties of friendship, set out to travel, and 
 see the world together. They are, however, shipwrecked, 
 and Musidorus being rescued by two shepherds is 
 brought to the house of Kalander, a hospitable noble
 
 142 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 who dwells in Arcadia, a land where " there were hills 
 which garnished their proud heights with stately trees ; 
 humble vallies whose base estate seemed comforted with 
 the presence of silver rivers ; meadows enamelled with 
 all sorts of eye-pleasing flowers, each pasture stored 
 with sheep feeding in sober security; here a shepherd 
 boy piping as though he would never be old, there a 
 young shepherdess knitting and withal singing, while 
 both voice and hands keep time together." Musidorus 
 is most kindly received by Kalander, who entertains 
 him for some days, but the latter soon after receives 
 the sad news that his son Clitophon, who has been 
 fighting in the Lacedemonian war against the Helots, 
 has been taken prisoner, and Musidorus, desirous of 
 repaying the good man's kindness, raises an army of 
 Arcadians, and marches against the enemy. 
 
 A deadly battle ensues, in which Musidorus displays 
 great bravery, and is astonished at the equal bravery of 
 the Captain of the Helots; but soon the two leaders 
 meet, and both armies pause to allow the battle to be 
 fought out between them. After a fierce combat, the 
 other champion strikes Musidorus a sudden blow, which 
 knocks off his helmet, and leaves him at the other's 
 mercy, who, instead of following up his advantage, fills 
 him with amazement by embracing him, and this 
 speedily changes to joy, when he finds that the Helot 
 leader is no other than his lost friend Pyrocles. Clito- 
 phon is released, and all return in triumph to the house 
 of Kalander.
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 143 
 
 Here, however, the two strangers meet with another 
 adventure, for they fall in love with Pamela and 
 Philoclea, the daughters of Basil ius, Prince of Arcadia, 
 whom the latter has removed to a castle in a lonely 
 forest, into which no one is allowed to enter. The 
 two heroes have therefore to disguise themselves, 
 Musidorus as a shepherd and Pyrocles as an amazon, 
 and by this means they gain admittance to the retreat 
 of the Princesses, whose love they soon succeed in 
 winning. But their difficulties were not yet over, and 
 there are several minor plots within the principal one 
 which take many pages to unravel ; but at length, after 
 many hairbreadth escapes, Musidorus succeeds in con- 
 veying Pamela safe to his home in Thessaly, and Basilius 
 having consented to the union of Pyrocles and Philoclea, 
 all ends happily. 
 
 There is no model for the "Arcadia" or any of 
 Sidney's other writings, and although the whole work 
 contains a curious mixture of classical fables with 
 chivalrous romance which, had he lived, he purposed 
 to correct by re-writing the whole piece, and making it 
 a heroical romance, with King Arthur as hero yet the 
 originality of the work, and the vigour and eloquence 
 of the language, mark a fresh epoch in this transition 
 period of English literature, and gave an impetus to 
 the new life of the age. He considered that all writing 
 should have a moral object in view, and in this his 
 purpose has evidently been to inspire a lofty and heroic 
 ideal by his description of the manly and chivalrous
 
 144 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 characters of Musidorus and Pyrocles, and the pure and 
 lovely natures of Pamela and Philoclea, rather than b'y 
 any more direct method of inculcating virtuous precepts. 
 Of his poetry some specimens have already been 
 given, and throughout the " Arcadia" several pretty 
 sonnets are scattered, of which the best known is 
 ' ' My true love hath my heart, and I have his, 
 By just exchange one for the other given. 
 I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss ; 
 There never was a better bargain driven. 
 
 ' ' His heart in me keeps me and him in one, 
 
 My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides ; 
 He loves my heart, for once it was his own, 
 I cherish his because in me it bides." 
 
 We can see through all his later writings the profound 
 lesson he had learned in the school of sorrow, and how 
 he had grasped the great law of renunciation, and 
 devoted himself to the good of others. The mysteries 
 of life and death were even, in his early years, themes 
 for thoughtful study : 
 
 " Since nature's works be good, and death doth serve 
 
 As nature's work, why should we fear to die ? 
 Since fear is vain, but when it may preserve, 
 
 Why should we fear that which we cannot fly ? 
 Fear is more pain than is the pain it fears, 
 
 Disarming human minds of native might ; 
 While each conceit an ugly figure bears 
 
 Which are not ill, well viewed in reason's light. 
 Our owly eyes, which dimmed with passion be, 
 
 And scarce discern the dawn of coming day, 
 Let them be cleared, and now begin to see 
 
 Our life is but a step in dusty way. 
 Then let us hold the bliss of peaceful mind, 
 
 Since, feeling this, great loss we cannot find."
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 145 
 
 The poem of "Astrophel and Stella," which contains 
 most of his sonnets, has already been mentioned in con- 
 nection with his regard for Lady Kich, and it was by 
 it that he did most to implant the Italian method of 
 sonnet-writing in English soil. " Blessed is the man 
 who invented sleep," says Sancho Panza ; and amongst 
 the best of Sidney's poems is the following beautiful 
 one from "Astrophel " 
 
 ' ' Come Sleep, O Sleep ! the certain knot of peace, 
 
 The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, 
 The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, 
 
 The indifferent judge between the high and low 
 .With shield of proof shield me from out the press 
 
 Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw ; 
 O make in me these civil wars to cease ; 
 
 I will good tribute pay if thou do so. 
 
 Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, 
 A chamber deaf to noise and blind to light, 
 
 A rosy garland and a weary head ; 
 
 And if these things, as being thine by right, 
 
 Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me, 
 
 Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see." 
 
 But sweet and musical as many of Sidney's 
 verses are, his chief fame as an author will always 
 be from his prose writings, and especially that 
 work of his maturer years, "The Defence of Poesie," 
 which is the first precursor in England of that 
 spirit of literary comparison and criticism which in 
 these later days has grown to be such an immense 
 power.
 
 146 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 There had, lie explains in his introduction, grown up 
 a certain distaste for poetry, and misunderstanding of 
 the proper purpose and method of that mode of com- 
 position, which he wishes to clear away ; and he begins 
 by showing at some length that in every age the poet 
 has been the great teacher of culture among an un- 
 learned people, and so much has his vocation been 
 honoured that the Romans called him vatcs i.e., a 
 prophet or diviner. In the term poetry he includes all 
 romantic or imaginative writing, " for it is not rhyming 
 or versing that maketh a poet, no more than a long 
 gown maketh an advocate, who, though he pleaded in 
 armour, should be an advocate and no soldier. But it 
 is that feigning notable images of virtues, vices, or 
 what else with that delightful teaching which must be 
 the right describing note to know a poet by ; although, 
 indeed, the senate of poets have chosen verse as their 
 fittest raiment, meaning as in matter they passed all, so 
 in manner to go beyond them ; not speaking table-talk 
 fashion, or like men in a dream, words as they chance- 
 ably fall from the mouth, but piercing each syllable of 
 each word by just proportion according to the dignity 
 of the subject." The one end of learning is to lead and 
 draw us to as high a perfection as our degenerate souls, 
 made worse by their clay lodgings, can be capable of, and 
 "the poet ever so clothes goodness in his best clothes, that 
 none can help being enamoured of her ; and evil, when 
 brought upon the stage, is so manacled, that no one is 
 tempted to follow it." From this it appears that Sidney
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 147 
 
 believed all literary work should have a moral and a 
 purpose a view which will hardly be accepted at the 
 present day, when the highest aim of poetry and art is to 
 give an ideal representation of nature and truth, rather 
 than go out of the way to point a moral to the tale where 
 the great mother of all has failed to do so herself. 
 
 After thus considering generally the method and aim 
 of literary and particularly poetical productions, Sidney 
 goes on to give a short and pointed criticism of the 
 principal poems in the English language published at 
 that time, beginning with Chaucer, of whom he says 
 "I know not whether to marvel more either that he in 
 that misty time could see so clearly, or that we in this 
 clear age go so stumblingly after him," and going down 
 to Spenser, whose "Sheapherd's Kalendar" had just 
 appeared. He concluded with a criticism of dramatic 
 representation, which at this time was still weighed 
 down by the absurd theory of the unities of time and 
 place, and there was as yet no attempt whatever at 
 assisting the spectators to realise the nature of the 
 surroundings of the piece by means of scenery, the 
 most that was ever done being to fix up a board on the 
 stage with a notice such as "This is Athens," or what- 
 ever the place was in which the scene was supposed to 
 be laid. Under these circumstances, therefore, we need 
 not be surprised at finding him writing " The stage 
 should always represent but one place, and the utter- 
 most time presupposed in it should be, both by Aris- 
 totle's precept and common sense, but one day; for when
 
 148 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 you have Asia on the one side and Africa on the other, 
 and so many other under-kingdoins that the player 
 when he comes in must ever begin with telling where 
 he is. or else the tale will not be conceived. Now shall 
 ypu have three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then 
 we must believe the stage a garden. By-and-by we 
 hear news of a shipwreck in the same place, then we 
 are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. Upon the 
 back of that comes out a hideous monster with fire and 
 smoke, and then the miserable beholders are bound to 
 take it for a cave ; while in the meantime two armies 
 fly in, represented with four swords and bucklers, and 
 then what hard heart will not receive it for a pitched 
 field ?" This humorous description reveals to us some 
 of the difficulties with which Shakspere and the earlier 
 dramatists had to contend. 
 
 Sidney goes on to give an eloquent panegyric of poetry, 
 and thus concludes " But if ye be born so near the dull- 
 making cataract of Nilus that you cannot hear the 
 planet-like music of poetry ; if you have so earth-creep- 
 ing a mind that it cannot lift itself up to look to the 
 sky of poesy; then, though I will not wish unto you 
 the ass's ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses 
 as Bubonax was to hang himself, nor to be rhymed to 
 death as is said to be done in Ireland; yet this much 
 curse I must send you in behalf of all the poets that, 
 while you live, you live in love and never get favour for 
 lacking skill of a sonnet, and when you die your memory 
 die from the earth for want of an epitaph."
 
 AS POET AND AUTHOR. 149 
 
 This was the last of Sidney's longer writings, but in 
 1584 he began a translation of the " De Veritate 
 Christiana" of Philip du Plessis Mornay, one of the 
 prominent Huguenots; but being obliged on his departure 
 for the Netherlands to relinquish this task, he handed 
 it over to Arthur Golding to complete, who subsequently 
 published it under the title of " The Treunesse of the 
 Christian Keligion." Sidney's object in translating this 
 book was to enforce the belief which he in common 
 with many of the deepest thinkers of the time held that 
 Truth was one and universal, and though many errors 
 had been made in the interpretation of its utterances, 
 yet the Candle of the Lord had been implanted in every 
 human heart, from which those who truly sought would 
 obtain the highest light, and that nothing was needed 
 but one grand comprehensive system of religion to 
 gather all together in worship of the common Father. 
 There was but one Divine Miud filling the world, of 
 which every human mind was a particle or emanation ; 
 and the struggle between good and evil on the earth 
 was, and the highest purpose of every true lover of 
 humanity should be, to strengthen this part of the divine 
 element which every man possesses, and help it to 
 conquer the lower nature, and thus in the end attain 
 unto the highest life.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 
 
 T the beginning of the year 1585, the 
 aspect of political affairs became very 
 threatening, and greatly occupied the 
 minds of Sidney and other thoughtful 
 patriots, who saw that matters between 
 Spain and England must soon come 
 to a crisis ; and the issue of a conflict with that great 
 power, supported by all the resources of the Papacy, 
 none could foresee. 
 
 As yet there had been no overt act of war on either 
 side, but the King of Spain was known to be preparing a 
 fleet for the invasion of the country, and from the steady 
 increase of his power in Europe it seemed a foolish 
 policy of Elizabeth to allow her powerful enemy to 
 choose his own time for making the attack. Therefore 
 Sidney, and those who thought with him, strongly urged 
 the Government to sanction the fitting out of expeditions 
 against the Spanish possessions in the West Indies, and 
 by thus cutting off his supplies, and compelling him to 
 send a large part of his fleet to defend these distant
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 151 
 
 settlements, Philip of Spain would have been com- 
 pelled to relinquish his design of sending the Armada, 
 which actually came three years later. He also 
 exerted his influence to induce the Queen to renew the 
 attempt he had made eight years before of forming an 
 alliance among the powers opposed to Spain, and his 
 efforts in this behalf were supported by an embassy 
 from the United Netherlands, which came to implore the 
 English Government to assist them in the gallant 
 struggle they were carrying on against Spanish tyranny. 
 The brave Hollanders were still holding their own 
 in the fierce conflict, but were often on the verge of 
 despair, and had lately received a terrible blow in the 
 assassination of their leader, the noble William of 
 Orange, who was shot with poisoned bullets by a 
 religious fanatic employed by the King of Spain, and 
 whose last words showed how unselfishly he had 
 worked and fought for his country "May God have 
 mercy on my poor people." 
 
 Sidney was again doing good work in Parliament, 
 having been elected as knight of his native county of 
 Kent, and about this time he was also appointed Master 
 of Ordnance jointly with his uncle, the Earl of War- 
 wick, and busied himself in seeing that the defences of 
 the country were in proper order. 
 
 He had, however, determined to be no longer a mere 
 looker-on in the great world-battle that was being fought 
 against despotism and superstition ; and having become 
 intimately acquainted with two of the great champions
 
 152 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 of the day, Sir Francis Drake and Sir Walter Ealeigh, 
 he succeeded in inducing the former to plan an expedi- 
 tion for attacking the Spanish settlements, and of this 
 Sidney was to take command jointly with Drake, and 
 to provide money and volunteers, many of whom would 
 be attracted by the reputation of his name. 
 
 It was necessary to keep Sidney's share in this 
 enterprise secret, as the Queen could never be per- 
 suaded to consent to any of her favourites leaving Court, 
 and having received an intimation from Drake that the 
 fleet was ready to sail, he proceeded to Plymouth early 
 in September, 1585. When he arrived there, however, 
 he found the expedition was not yet prepared to start, 
 Drake, who was apparently unwilling to share the 
 honours with him, having brought him down too soon, 
 so that his friends at Court might get wind of his 
 intention. This object was only too well attained, as 
 the order soon arrived forbidding him on any account 
 to leave the country, and in case of his refusal to obey 
 the whole fleet was to be stayed, but if he consented to 
 remain behind the Queen promised to give him per- 
 mission to join the army she was about to send to 
 the Netherlands ; and Sidney, relying on this promise 
 of active work, was reluctantly obliged to return to 
 Court. 
 
 Here he was kept in idleness for some time, till at 
 length the opportunity for his active participation in 
 the great battle for Faith and Freedom arrived. For 
 years he had been burning with eager desire to be with
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 153 
 
 those who were so bravely fighting for their liberty and 
 religion against overwhelming odds, but his Court duties, 
 his father's troubles, and the necessity for the presence 
 of a true and able statesman like himself at the seat 
 of government, had obliged him to postpone his own 
 personal wishes to the good of others and the great 
 cause of freedom. Now, however, matters were coming 
 to a crisis. The King of Spain was collecting a large 
 army in the Netherlands, which was evidently to be 
 employed for the invasion of England so soon as his 
 fleet would be ready to co-operate with it, and it thus 
 became necessary for Queen Elizabeth at last to discard 
 her cautious waiting policy and assist the gallant Dutch 
 in their struggle, if she did not wish her own country 
 to fall a victim to the power of Spain and the Pope. 
 She had now taken the decisive step by agreeing to 
 send over an army to the Netherlands, under the com- 
 mand of the Earl of Leicester; and as surety for the 
 payment of expenses, she was to get possession of the 
 towns of Flushing and Brill and the Castle of Ramekins. 
 A proclamation was therefore issued by the British 
 Government, setting forth the usurpation of the Span- 
 iards, and the danger to their liberty and religion, which 
 had reluctantly compelled them to resort to a war, the 
 holy objects of which were the procurement of peace 
 to all holders of the reformed faith, the restoration of 
 freedom to the Netherlands, and the safety of England. 
 Sir Philip Sidney was appointed to the important post 
 of Governor of Flushing and Ramekins, Sir Thomas
 
 154 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY.' 
 
 Cecil, Lord Burghley's eldest son, and Sidney's senior 
 by a dozen years, to the inferior post of Governor of 
 Brill, and the Earl of Leicester as commander of the 
 forces and leader of the expedition. 
 
 Sidney was the first to start, and on 16th November, 
 1585, he set sail, arriving at Flushing two days later, 
 where he was well received, and greatly pleased with 
 the position in which he found himself. Flushing was, 
 from a military point of view, one of the most impor- 
 tant posts in the Netherlands, situated as it is at the 
 mouth of the Scheldt, and commanding the approach by 
 water to Antwerp, Brussels, Dendemonde, and Ghent ; 
 and the neighbouring Castle of Eamekins was strongly 
 placed and fortified. He lost no time in putting matters 
 into proper order, and encouraging the soldiers and 
 citizens under his command to do their best; and he 
 had great hopes of doing good service, not only in his 
 own particular government, but also in other parts of 
 the province, by making sorties against the weaker 
 positions of the enemy in the neighbourhood. But he 
 soon found that the difficulties he had to contend against 
 were greater than he had supposed, and that it would 
 take all his energy and patience to prevent some 
 disaster through the mismanagement of his superiors. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth considered that she had done all that 
 could be expected of her in sending over the army, and 
 left the soldiers almost totally unprovided for the pay of 
 Sidney's own garrison being for a long time four months 
 in arrear, and the soldiers on the verge of mutiny and
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 155 
 
 the Earl of Leicester speedily displayed his incapacity 
 for the command by wasting precious time in feasting 
 arid dissipation. The army itself was insufficient for 
 garrison purposes for the defence of the country, without 
 having any to spare for offensive operations, and Sidney 
 wrote urging the Government to send reinforcements, 
 as the number under his command was no more able to 
 guard Flushing than the Tower was to answer for the 
 city of London. 
 
 He found that the little town of Grave, which 
 was besieged by the enemy, would be compelled to 
 surrender if not speedily relieved ; and having devised 
 a plan for diverting the attention of the besiegers, he 
 requested Lord Leicester to send him a few companies 
 of soldiers, saying he would stake his life in being 
 able to make the enemy raise the siege. But the 
 reinforcements never came, and the town capitulated ; 
 and on all sides he was hampered by the indif- 
 ference and incapacity of many of the other officers, 
 who seem to have been jealous of his growing reputa- 
 tion, so that, as he said, the enemy were stirring on 
 every side, while the English idled away the time. 
 A letter written to his father-in-law, Sir Francis Wal- 
 singham, at this time, shows the noble spirit in which 
 he determined to do his duty at all hazards. " I had," 
 he says, "before cast my count of danger, want, and 
 disgrace, and before God, sir, it is true in my heart the 
 love of the cause doth so far overbalance them all that, 
 with God's grace, they shall never make me weary of
 
 156 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 my resolution. If Her Majesty were the fountain, I 
 would fear, considering what I daily find, that we 
 should wax dry, but she is but a means whom God 
 useth ; and I know not whether I am deceived, but I 
 am faithfully persuaded that, if she should withdraw 
 herself, other springs would rise to help this action ; for 
 methinks I see the great work indeed in hand against 
 the abusers of the world, wherein it is not greater fault 
 to show confidence in man's power, than it is to despair 
 of God's work. I think a wise and constant man ought 
 never to grieve while he doth play, as a man may say, 
 his own part truly, though others be out ; but if himself 
 leave his hold because other mariners will be idle, he 
 will hardly forgive himself his own fault. For me, I 
 cannot promise of my own course, because I know there 
 is a higher power that must uphold me, or else I shall 
 fall; but certainly I trust I shall not by other men's 
 wants be drawn from myself. Therefore, good sir, to 
 whom for my particular I am more bound than to all 
 men besides, be not troubled with my troubles, for I 
 have seen the worst, in my judgment, beforehand, and 
 worse than that cannot be." 
 
 Thus nine months passed, during which he governed 
 his district with ability and success, and made some 
 spirited sorties against the Spaniards; but a very 
 desultory warfare was carried on by both sides without 
 either gaining any decisive advantage. In May, 1586, 
 he received the news of his father's death, and shortly 
 after that of his mother, who had been ailing for many
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL, 157 
 
 years; but he had no leisure to indulge his personal 
 sorrows, for he had now to organise one of the most 
 important expeditions of the whole campaign. The 
 town of Axel was held by the Spanish troops, having 
 a garrison of about twelve hundred men ; but deeming 
 themselves secure, the guards were negligent, and it 
 therefore occurred to Sidney, and his friend Count 
 Maurice of Nassau, that there would be a good chance 
 of taking it by surprise. They accordingly organised a 
 band of soldiers and volunteers, and on the night of the 
 sixth of July started by boat from Flushing for the 
 mainland, and, arriving there, marched to within a mile 
 of Axel. They were then prepared for the assault, and 
 Sidney in a few inspiriting words exhorted them to 
 remember that they were Britons, to whom death was 
 as nothing to dishonour, and that they were fighting for 
 Faith, Queen, and Fatherland. 
 
 Having waited till two o'clock, when the night was 
 darkest, he chose out forty of the most reliable, and 
 swimming with them across the moat of water sur- 
 rounding the town, they scaled the walls and got inside 
 without attracting the attention of the sentinels. They 
 then rushed down, and having overpowered the guards, 
 opened the gates for the rest of the band, who hurried 
 in and took the whole garrison by surprise. A short 
 and decisive struggle took place, and the enemy having 
 suffered severely, and seeing that further resistance was 
 useless, surrendered, so that the town was captured with 
 the loss of very few of the attacking party.
 
 158 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 The success of this well-planned expedition added 
 greatly to Sidney's already high reputation for courage 
 and ability, and was the most important victory the 
 British army had as yet gained in the Netherlands. 
 He hoped that by it the Earl of Leicester would be 
 encouraged to attempt some decisive action, and having 
 garrisoned Axel, and thoroughly provided for its safety, 
 he joined the main body of the army at Arnheim. 
 
 One of the strongest positions of the enemy was the 
 town of Zutphen, which Leicester was consequently 
 anxious to capture, and he therefore proceeded to invest 
 Doesburgh, a fortress in the direct road to that town. 
 Sidney was now acting with the main body of the army, 
 and was present at the capture of this fortress, which 
 took place on the second of September, thus opening the 
 way to Zutphen, which by the thirteenth of September 
 was completely invested, he and Count Louis of Nassau 
 being in command of the land forces, while Leicester 
 himself superintended the blockade by sea. The conflict 
 at this place was looked upon by both sides as most 
 important, and great efforts were being made by the 
 English for its capture, and by the Duke of Parma, the 
 Spanish general, to keep the town well supplied and 
 garrisoned. 
 
 On the twenty-first of September, Leicester received 
 information that a large quantity of provisions had been 
 collected a few miles from Zutphen, and were to be 
 smuggled in before daybreak the next morning, and he 
 therefore ordered a body of cavalry to reconnoitre about
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 159 
 
 the walls during the night and intercept the relief party. 
 The morning of the twenty-second of September was so 
 misty that the English could scarcely see ten paces ahead; 
 but Sidney, who was in command of a troop of cavalry, 
 was determined that no effort would be spared to prevent 
 the introduction of the provisions into the town. He 
 accordingly went early to the field, dressed in full 
 armour, but meeting Sir William Pelham, who was but 
 lightly armed, he deemed the honour of Chivalry for- 
 bade him being better protected than his friend, and 
 therefore threw off the pieces of armour guarding his 
 thighs, and thus inspired his followers with an equal 
 disregard of danger. He foresaw that, unless most active 
 measures were taken, the enemy would succeed in 
 getting the supplies into the town under cover of the 
 darkness; and though they were unable to see any 
 length in front, he led his troop boldly forward for some 
 distance, when suddenly the fog cleared off, and they 
 found themselves directly under the walls of Zutphen. 
 The enemy at once opened fire on them, and a body of 
 about a thousand cavalry advanced to the attack, and 
 Sidney, seeing it was impossible to retreat, led his men 
 to the charge. His horse was killed under him, but after 
 an hour's hard fighting they succeeded in retiring some 
 distance in safety, and here, being reinforced by another 
 troop of three hundred men, he mounted a fresh horse 
 and joined in a second charge, by which the enemy were 
 driven back to the walls of the town. Here, however, 
 the latter were largely recruited, and pursued the retreat-
 
 160 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 ing English, and in order to cover their retreat, Sidney 
 was leading a third charge, when he was struck by a 
 musket shot, which, entering the part of the leg where 
 he should have been protected by the armour he had 
 thrown off, fractured the bone, and glanced far up into 
 the thigh. His frightened charger turned and galloped 
 off the field, carrying its helpless rider for a couple of 
 miles, when it was stopped, and Sidney carried into the 
 camp. 
 
 On the way, occurred that memorable incident which 
 showed how the dying hero, even in that supreme 
 moment, could not forget the habit of patience and self- 
 denial taught by sorrow. Parched with the terrible 
 thirst which his great exertion and mortal wound 
 caused, he asked for something to drink, and as he was 
 about to put the bottle to his lips, he saw a private 
 soldier, wounded to death, and for whose wants there 
 was none of the care and attention his noble leader 
 received, being carried past, who greedily eyed the 
 precious draught. Water was scarcely to be had, even 
 for the officers ; and Sidney realised that this poor 
 fellow would probably have to suffer the bitter pangs of 
 thirst till death released him. He drank nothing him- 
 self, but, handing the bottle to the dying soldier, said, 
 " Take this, for thy necessity is yet greater than mine." 
 
 At first, hopes were entertained of his recovery, but 
 he himself seems to have known his wound was mortal, 
 and he was heard to murmur thanks to God for giving 
 him time to prepare for death. He requested the
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 
 
 161 
 
 surgeons to thoroughly probe the hurt, and not to neglect 
 anything that would give a better chance of preserving 
 his life through fear of the pain they might inflict 
 upon him, and he bore the examination with heroic 
 fortitude. For three weeks he lay upon his bed of pain, 
 tenderly nursed by his wife, and surrounded by many 
 loving friends, whom he continually exhorted to per- 
 
 SIR PHILIP SYDNEY AND THE WOUNDED SULDIEK. 
 
 severe in the battle for liberty and religion, and with 
 whom he conversed on such subjects as the immortality 
 of the soul aud the future life, with a calm grace and 
 sweetness which comforted the hearts of all in their 
 distress at the prospect of losing the best and noblest 
 knight of the time. "But," says his friend and bio- 
 grapher, " he discoursed these themes not that he
 
 162 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 wanted iiistructiou or assurance, but because this fixing 
 of a lover's thoughts upon those eternal beauties was 
 not only a cheering-up of his decaying spirits, but as it 
 were a taking possession of that immortal inheritance 
 which was given unto him by his brotherhood in 
 Christ." He had no fear of death, for he said " I have 
 bound my life to God, and if He cut me off and suffer 
 me to live no longer, then shall I glorify Him, and give 
 myself up to His service." When he felt that the 
 end was approaching, he began to fear that the pain 
 would deprive him of his understanding ; but the 
 great unknown began to draw him towards it with 
 mysterious and irresistible attraction, and he said " I 
 would not change my joy for the empire of the world." 
 Waiting thus, on the seventeenth of October, 1586, 
 God's finger touched him and he slept, passing away 
 calmly and peacefully into the darkness, his last words 
 to his brother being " Love my memory ; cherish my 
 friends their faith to me may assure you they are 
 honest ; but above all, govern your will and affections 
 by the will and word of your Creator, in me beholding 
 the end of the world with all its vanities." 
 
 Thus cut off in the prime of life, his death filled all 
 the noblest men of the time with grief for the destruc- 
 tion of the bright hopes and ardent affection which his 
 pure and noble spirit inspired in all who came in con- 
 tact with him ; and even the Spaniards expressed their 
 regret at the loss to Christendom of so brave and chival- 
 rous a knight, who was an example to all of the highest
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL. 163 
 
 _ . 
 
 virtues of the Order to which he belonged. His funeral 
 was made the occasion of a solemn and stately pageant, 
 over seven hundred mourners, representing every class 
 in England, taking part in the procession to St. Paul's 
 Cathedral, where he was buried, evincing the feeling of 
 a national loss and the immense influence which his 
 noble character and high reputation had exerted on the 
 country at large. 
 
 The Queen was foremost in her demonstrations of 
 grief at the loss of the idol of the court and camp, and 
 " for months after it was accounted a sin for any gentle- 
 man of quality to appear at court or city in any light 
 or gaudy apparel ;" but what availed it to garland the 
 tomb when they had not crowned the brow, and all 
 came too late to cheer this pure and lofty spirit in its 
 struggle for the higher life. " He was a true model of 
 worth," writes his friend Fulke Greville ; " a man fit 
 for conquest, plantation, reformation, or what action 
 soever is the greatest and hardest among men, withal 
 such a lover of mankind and goodness, that whosoever 
 had any real parts in him found comfort and protection 
 to the uttermost of his power ; his chief ends being not 
 friends, wife, children, and himself, but, above all, the 
 honour of his Maker, and the service of his prince and 
 country." 
 
 And thus, as one of those whom the gods love, he died 
 young, and to him were accorded none of the triumphs 
 or victories or glory of this world ; but after a life spent 
 in following a pure and noble ideal, and in the earnest
 
 164 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 pursuit of justice and truth, it was given him to gain 
 that highest crown of all, that he did it without reward, 
 so that the joy and pride which others have felt in the 
 accomplishment of a noble purpose, and the realisation 
 of a lofty aim, were changed for him into the renunci- 
 ation of a work left incomplete, and the hope of a 
 fulfilment that was not for him or of this world, but 
 was part of the mighty fruition of the time to come. 
 
 The great battle for freedom and truth in which his 
 whole soul was engaged, and in which he gave his life, 
 still went on, and, as history relates, ended in the 
 ultimate triumph of the weak over the strong, of the 
 oppressed over the oppressor. And the great aim which 
 he ever kept before him, whether at the Court, in the 
 council chamber, or in the camp to elevate by his own 
 personal example and earnest precept the public life of 
 the statesmen, courtiers, soldiers, and people of England 
 was perhaps achieved by him in part even in life, but 
 more by his heroic death, and the example he silently 
 offered to the world of one who had given up all for a 
 lofty ideal and a chivalrous purpose. 
 
 Both as a statesman and author he was one of those 
 inheritors of unfulfilled renown whose biographies are 
 the saddest and yet the sweetest of all; for if the 
 glorious promise of one who died at the early age of 
 thirty-two had been fulfilled in a long and useful 
 career, he would have taken his place as one of the 
 greatest statesmen and authors the world has produced. 
 But it was not to be ; and to one such as he, who from
 
 THE HOLY QRAIL. 
 
 165 
 
 his earliest youth seems to have felt the utter worth- 
 lessuess of the honour and glory of the world as com- 
 pared with the greatness of the Infinite and the Eternal, 
 the thought that he had bravely tried to do his duty 
 must have been the best of all, and more than com- 
 pensated for a personal loss which was the world's great 
 Gain.
 
 L'EN VOL 
 
 Wcr iinnier strebend sich bemiiht 
 Den konnen wir crlosen. 
 
 Goethe.
 
 L' EN VOI. 
 
 E have seen in the preceding pages 
 something of the effect Chivalry had 
 in the days of old in helping the work 
 of that Great Power which makes for 
 righteousness how it ever held before 
 men the high conception of endeavour- 
 ing to attain to a noble and unselfish ideal of life and 
 action, and, in the pursuit of that ideal, to renounce 
 with a pure and manly self-denial the lower and 
 grosser forms of enjoyment for -the sake of such a 
 glorious yet unsubstantial reward as the formation of 
 habits of honour, justice, generosity, and magnanimity. 
 From the result which this great ideal had in purifying 
 and elevating the ideas and actions of the purest and 
 greatest among the knights of old, and the splendid effect 
 their thought and purpose had on the society of that 
 and the subsequent ages, we may see something of the
 
 168 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 power a great and lofty ideal will have in regenerating 
 the life of this time, and what the noblest spirits of the 
 present day may make of this beautiful world by loving 
 and following the highest form of truth and beauty here. 
 The practical result always falls short of the high 
 ideal sought to be attained ; but as a great teacher has 
 said, " Besouled with earnest human nobleness, did 
 not slaughter, violence, and frenzied fury grow into a 
 Chivalry into a blessed loyalty of governor and 
 governed. And in work which is of itself noble, and 
 the only true fighting, there shall be no such possibility. 
 Believe it not; it is incredible; the whole universe 
 contradicts it. Some Chivalry of Labour, some noble 
 Humanity and practical Divineness of Labour, will yet be 
 realised on this earth. Or why will : why do we pray to 
 Heaven without setting our own shoulder to the wheel ? 
 The Present, if it will have the Future accomplish, shall 
 itself commence. Thou who prophesiest, who believest, 
 begin thou to fulfil. Here or nowhere, now equally as 
 at any time. That outcast helpneeding thing or person 
 trampled down under vulgar feet or hoofs, no help 
 possible for it, no prize offered for the saving of it 
 canst not thou save it then without prize ? Put 
 forth thy hand in God's name ; know that ' impossible,' 
 where Truth and Mercy and the everlasting Voice of 
 Nature order, has no place in the brave man's dictionary. 
 It is for thee now; do thou that, and ask no man's 
 counsel but thy own only, and God's. Brother, thou hast 
 possibility in thee for much : the possibility of writing
 
 UENVOI. 169 
 
 on the eternal skies the record of a heroic life. It is 
 for you, ye workers, who do already work, and are as 
 grown men, noble and honourable in a sort, that the 
 whole world calls for new work and nobleness. Subdue 
 mutiny, discord, widespread despair by manfulness, 
 justice, mercy, and wisdom. Chaos is dark; deep as 
 Hell ; let light be, and there is instead a green flowery 
 world. it is great, and there is no other greatness : 
 to make some work of God's creation a little fruitfuller, 
 better, more worthy of God ; to make some human 
 hearts a little wiser, manfuller, happier, more blessed, 
 less accursed. It is work for a God."* 
 
 There is a magic in human example and manly 
 influence which will enable a true follower of the light 
 to lead many up with him toward the higher life ; and 
 every man who steadily and perseveringly pursues the 
 true good, in spite of failure and discouragement, is 
 slowly but surely building up his part of a great work 
 destined for the salvation and regeneration of suffering 
 humanity. Life is, as it were, a great battlefield, in 
 which there are many soldiers, each of whom has 
 independently to perform his own part faithfully and 
 thoroughly in order to carry out successfully the com- 
 bined movement, and the failure to perform which by 
 any individual may ruin all. It is given to few to see 
 and comprehend the broad plan of the great campaign, 
 but it will not absolve any for the neglect of his own 
 immediate duty, that he does not fully understand the 
 * Carlyle : "Past and Present."
 
 170 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 bearing his conduct will have on the united action of 
 all in helping or hindering the glorious victory of the 
 time to come. 
 
 The days when the bravest and noblest spirits of the 
 time were called upon to ride abroad on adventurous 
 quests, or to perform deeds of physical courage and 
 daring, are long since past ; yet there are still wrongs 
 innumerable as many as of old to be redressed by the 
 brave and the true, and in a larger and more stirring 
 arena than that of the combat or the tourney there is 
 this God-given work for all: to fight against injustice 
 and wrong wherever it appears ; to pursue steadfastly 
 and consistently a high and noble aim, and help others 
 to follow the same faithfully to the end ; to bring some 
 comfort and hope to the hearts of the weary and worn 
 toilers and workers, whose lives have little of joy or 
 brightness in them; to help all to something of that 
 illimitable wealth of happiness and contentment which 
 a pure and steadfast heart alone brings. In work such 
 as this, the poorest and most humble can win their 
 golden spurs by deeds of chivalrous heroism and daring 
 surpassing those of the knights of old. 
 
 The highest prerogative of cultured manhood and 
 womanhood is that power of choice, selection, renunci- 
 ation, which raises the being endowed with the divine 
 light of reason above all the rest of the created world ; 
 and this power, when rightly used to discard, at what- 
 ever cost to the sensual and voluptuous part of our 
 natures, every lower and unworthy object, and to follow
 
 UENVOI. 171 
 
 alone the true light which is implanted in the hearts of 
 all, elevates them to be as gods, knowing good and evil, 
 and choosing the good. Life is short, and yet there is 
 time enough for every man to leave behind him the 
 record of a heroic life; and for the shortest and most 
 imperfect there is this heavenly comfort: that though 
 but few have the joy of carrying out a great add noble 
 purpose to its full completion, and of seeing the perfec- 
 tion of that for which they have bravely striven, yet 
 what one man begins another completes, and thus 
 through all, whether commencing or perfecting, the 
 Great Power works its eternal righteousness, and each 
 who so steadfastly helps on to the full extent of his 
 capabilities the noble effort for something higher and 
 better, by so doing, fulfils the highest end of his 
 existence, and the loftiest purpose of life. The most 
 earnest aim of all should be to 
 
 Follow the Light and do the Right, 
 For man can half control his doom. 
 
 We find much in this great world around us as if 
 some lesser god had made it all, but had not force to 
 shape it as he would, and it is in the continuous 
 struggle to shape it to high and noble ends, to bring 
 good out of evil, justice out of injustice, truth out of 
 falsehood, that the divine element in every human soul 
 is enabled to overcome the lower nature, and, in fight- 
 ing the great battle against the powers of evil, to 
 conquer himself, and live the divine life of self- 
 sacrifice and renunciation. The manly determination
 
 172 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 to make the best of life, and to live up to the highest 
 light given to us, brings with it this great reward : 
 that a man who honestly endeavours, in whatever 
 sphere he is placed, to do his duty without regard to the 
 opinion of the world or his own personal aggrandise- 
 ment, is independent of the power of Fate, and, if he 
 meets with good fortune in life, can enjoy it with all the 
 zest of one at peace with Nature; but if the inexor- 
 able wheel of Destiny shall bring him its worst, he has 
 still the glorious certainty that he lives not for himself 
 or his own pleasure but for the welfare of all, and the 
 supreme end of working for this, Fate cannot touch or 
 crush. 
 
 To every man and woman in the world is given at 
 some time or other the choice of Solomon ; and they 
 must choose well, for the time to choose is brief, but the 
 consequences of that selection endless and eternal. 
 Like Hercules, we are brought to the meeting of the 
 ways, and must take our choice in life between a path 
 which is crowded by many wayfarers, and which seems 
 to lead to wealth, power, glory, advantage to ourselves, 
 neglect of others, the travellers on which see ever before 
 them the fateful mirage of Happiness, a flower that 
 blooms not on this earthly soil, but the image of which 
 ever flits before, luring all to their destruction, to the 
 death of all spiritual and noble qualities ; or that other 
 path which, steep and rugged as it is, requires the 
 renunciation of all selfish objects, and, with the firm 
 determination to work for the good of Humanity, gives
 
 LENVOL 173 
 
 in the end that highest joy of all the sense of having 
 faithfully tried to do our duty, and a mind at peace 
 with Nature and with God. 
 
 "There is a destiny now possible to us the highest 
 ever set before a nation to be accepted or refused. 
 We have been taught a religion of pure mercy, which 
 we must either now finally betray, or learn to defend by 
 fulfilling. And we are rich in an inheritance of 
 Honour, bequeathed to us through a thousand years of 
 noble history, which it should be our daily thirst to in- 
 crease with splendid avarice, so that Britons, if it be a 
 sin to covet Honour, should be the most offending souls 
 alive. A kingdom is open to us, but who is to be its 
 king ? Is there to be no king in it, think you, and 
 every man to do that which is right in his own eyes ? 
 Or only kings of terror, and the obscene empires of 
 Mammon or Belial ? Or will you youths of England 
 make your country again a royal throne of kings ; 
 a sceptred isle for all the world; a source of light; a 
 centre of peace ; mistress of Learning and of the Arts ; 
 faithful guardian of great memories in the midst of 
 irreverent and ephemeral visions; faithful servant of 
 time-tried principles under temptation from foul experi- 
 ments and licentious desires ; and, amidst the cruel and 
 clamorous jealousies of the nations, worshipped in her 
 strange valour of goodwill towards men ? There are two 
 oriflammes ; which shall we plant on the farthest isles 
 the one that floats in heavenly fire, or that hangs heavy 
 with foul tissue of terrestrial gold ? There is indeed a
 
 174 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 crown of beneficent glory open to us, such as never 
 was yet offered to any poor group of mortal souls. And 
 it must be, it is with us now Eeign or Die."* 
 
 The highest crown of a noble and heroic life is open 
 to all, but the work must be begun by each individual 
 in the depths of his own heart. We must learn that the 
 purpose of life is not be found in the debasing pursuit 
 of amassing wealth at the expense of others, in acquiring 
 power which brings good to none, in gaining glory 
 by trampling upon every glorious principle ; but in the 
 habit of obeying in every step in life the highest dictates 
 of honour, generosity, justice, self-sacrifice, and helping 
 to promote, each in his own manner, to the fullest extent 
 of his power, be it more or less, that highest good at 
 which we can aim the greatest happiness of the greatest 
 number; assisting in our poor way the work of that 
 Eternal Will, the everlasting purpose of which is to 
 overcome evil with good. 
 
 The age of Chivalry has passed away, and the days of 
 knights-errant, of lonely quests, and of stately tourna- 
 ments are no more. But the spirit of Chivalry is not dead, 
 so long as there are men ready to do and die for truth and 
 liberty, as the saints and martyrs and heroes did and 
 died in the days of old ; so long as there are true-hearted 
 men and women ready for what is harder still to live 
 noble and unselfish lives, bravely and steadfastly follow- 
 ing out, through failure or success, through joy or sorrow, 
 through good report or evil report, the divine light of a 
 
 * Ruskin : " Lectures on Art. "
 
 DENVOL 
 
 175 
 
 sublime ideal ; so long as there are hearts that beat high 
 at the tale of noble heroism and daring ; so long as there 
 are souls to feel in their inmost depths that man is man, the 
 master of his fate, and are ready with a calm and stead- 
 fast purpose, ever mindful of their glory and their name, 
 to work the eternal work of righteousness. Around us 
 day by day, for those who can hear, 
 
 " Wings flutter, voices hover clear : 
 ' O just and faithful knight of God, 
 Ride on ! the prize is near.' " 
 
 Marcus Ward & Co.j Limited, Printers, Belfast.