Throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence and judge the prize.
MILTON.
PART I.
KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
ON the decline of the Roman power, about five centuries
after
Christ, the countries of Northern Europe were left almost
destitute of
a national government. Numerous chiefs, more or less powerful,
held
local sway, as far as each could enforce his dominion,
and
occasionally those chiefs would unite for a common object;
but, in
ordinary times, they were much more likely to be found
in hostility to
one another. In such a state of things, the rights of
the humbler
classes of society were at the mercy of every assailant;
and it is
plain that, without some check upon the lawless power
of the chiefs,
society must have relapsed into barbarism. Such checks
were found,
first, in the rivalry of the chiefs themselves, whose
mutual
jealousy made them restraints upon one another; secondly,
in the
influence of the Church, which, by every motive, pure
or selfish,
was pledged to interpose for the protection of the weak;
and lastly,
in the generosity and sense of right which, however crushed
under
the weight of passion and selfishness, dwell naturally
in the heart of
man. From this last source sprang Chivalry, which framed
an ideal of
the heroic character, combining invincible strength and
valor,
justice, modesty, loyalty to superiors, courtesy to equals,
compassion
to weakness, and devotedness to the Church; an ideal which,
if never
met with in real life, was acknowledged by all as the
highest model
for emulation.
The word Chivalry is derived from the French cheval,
a horse. The
word knight, which originally meant boy or servant, was
particularly
applied to a young man after he was admitted to the privilege
of
bearing arms. This privilege was conferred on youths of
family and
fortune only, for the mass of the people were not furnished
with arms.
The knight then was a mounted warrior, a man of rank,
or in the
service and maintenance of some man of rank, generally
possessing some
independent means of support, but often relying mainly
on the
gratitude of those whom he served for the supply of his
wants, and
often, no doubt, resorting to the means which power confers
on its
possessor.
In time of war the knight was, with his followers, in
the camp of
his sovereign, or commanding in the field, or holding
some castle
for him. In time of peace he was of ten in attendance
at his
sovereign's court, gracing with his presence the banquets
and
tournaments with which princes cheered their leisure.
Or he was
traversing the country in quest of adventure, professedly
bent on
redressing wrongs and enforcing rights, sometimes in fulfilment
of
some vow of religion or of love. These wandering knights
were called
knights-errant; they were welcome guests in the castles
of the
nobility, for their presence enlivened the dulness of
those secluded
abodes, and they were received with honor at the abbeys,
which often
owed the best part of their revenues to the patronage
of the
knights; but if no castle or abbey or hermitage were at
hand, their
hardy habits made it not intolerable to them to lie down,
supperless, at the foot of some wayside cross, and pass
the night.
It is evident that the justice administered by such
an
instrumentality must have been of the rudest description.
The force
whose legitimate purpose was to redress wrongs, might
easily be
perverted to inflict them. Accordingly, we find in the
romances,
which, however fabulous in facts, are true as pictures
of manners,
that a knightly castle was often a terror to the surrounding
country; that its dungeons were full of oppressed knights
and
ladies, waiting for some champion to appear to set them
free, or to be
ransomed with money; that hosts of idle retainers were
ever at hand to
enforce their lord's behests, regardless of law and justice;
and
that the rights of the unarmed multitude were of no account.
This
contrariety of fact and theory in regard to chivalry will
account
for the opposite impressions which exist in men's minds
respecting it.
While it has been the theme of the most fervid eulogium
on the one
part, it has been as eagerly denounced on the other. On
a cool
estimate, we cannot but see reason to congratulate ourselves
that it
has given way in modern times to the reign of law, and
that the
civil magistrate, if less picturesque, has taken the place
of the
mailed champion.
THE TRAINING OF A KNIGHT.
The preparatory education of candidates for knighthood
was long
and arduous. At seven years of age the noble children
were usually
removed from their father's house to the court or castle
of their
future patron, and placed under the care of a governor,
who taught
them the first articles of religion, and respect and reverence
for
their lords and superiors, and initiated them in the ceremonies
of a
court, They were called pages, valets or varlets, and
their office was
to carve, to wait at table, and to perform other menial
services which
were not then considered humiliating. In their leisure
hours they
learned to dance and play on the harp, were instructed
in the
mysteries of woods and rivers, that is, in hunting, falconry,
and
fishing, and in wrestling, tilting with spears, and performing
other
military exercises on horseback. At fourteen the page
became an
esquire, and began a course of severer and more laborious
exercises.
To vault on a horse in heavy armor; to run, to scale walls,
and spring
over ditches, under the same encumbrance; to wrestle,
to wield the
battle-axe for a length of time, without raising the visor
or taking
breath; to perform with grace all the evolutions of horsemanship,-
were necessary preliminaries to the reception of knighthood,
which was
usually conferred at twenty-one years of age, when the
young man's
education was supposed to be completed. In the meantime,
the
esquires were no less assiduously engaged in acquiring
all those
refinements of civility which formed what was in that
age called
courtesy. The same castle in which they received their
education was
usually thronged with young persons of the other sex,
and the page was
encouraged, at a very early age, to select some lady of
the court as
the mistress of his heart, to whom he was taught to refer
all his
sentiments, words, and actions. The service of his mistress
was the
glory and occupation of a knight, and her smiles, bestowed
at once
by affection and gratitude, were held out as the recompense
of his
well-directed valor. Religion united its influence with
those of
loyalty and love, and the order of knighthood, endowed
with all the
sanctity and religious awe that attended the priesthood,
became an
object of ambition to the greatest sovereigns.
The ceremonies of initiation were peculiarly solemn.
After
undergoing a severe fast, and spending whole nights in
prayer, the
candidate confessed, and received the sacrament. He then
clothed
himself in snow-white garments, and repaired to the church,
or the
hall, where the ceremony was to take place, bearing a
knightly sword
suspended from his neck, which the officiating priest
took and
blessed, and then returned to him. The candidate then,
with folded
arms, knelt before the presiding knight, who, after some
questions
about his motives and purposes in requesting admission,
administered
to him the oaths, and granted his request. Some of the
knights
present, sometimes even ladies and damsels, handed to
him in
succession the spurs, the coat of mail, the hauberk, the
armlet and
gauntlet, and lastly he girded on the sword. He then knelt
again
before the president, who, rising from his seat, gave
him the
"accolade," which consisted of three strokes,
with the flat of a
sword, on the shoulder or neck of the candidate, accompanied
by the
words: "In the name of God, of St. Michael, and St.
George, I make
thee a knight; be valiant, courteous, and loyal!"
Then he received his
helmet, his shield, and spear; and thus the investiture
ended.
FREEMEN, VILLAINS, SERFS, AND CLERKS.
The other classes of which society was composed were,
first,
freemen, owners of small portions of land, independent,
though they
sometimes voluntarily became the vassals of their more
opulent
neighbors, whose power was necessary for their protection.
The other
two classes, which were much the most numerous, were either
serfs or
villains, both of which were slaves.
The serfs were in the lowest state of slavery. All the
fruits of
their labor belonged to the master whose land they tilled,
and by whom
they were fed and clothed.
The villains were less degraded. Their situation seems
to have
resembled that of the Russian peasants at this day; Like
the serfs,
they were attached to the soil, and were transferred with
it by
purchase; but they paid only a fixed rent to the landlord,
and had a
right to dispose of any surplus that might arise from
their industry.
The term clerk was of very extensive import. It comprehended,
originally, such persons only as belonged to the clergy,
or clerical
order, among whom, however, might be found a multitude
of married
persons, artisans or others. But in process of time a
much wider
rule was established; every one that could read being
accounted a
clerk, or clericus, and allowed the "benefit of clergy,"
that is,
exemption from capital and some other forms of punishment,
in case
of crime.
TOURNAMENTS.
The splendid pageant of a tournament between knights,
its gaudy
accessories and trappings, and its chivalrous regulations,
originated in France. Tournaments were repeatedly condemned
by the
Church, probably on account of the quarrels they led to,
and the often
fatal results. The "joust," or "just,"
was different from the
tournament. In these, knights fought with their lances,
and their
object was to unhorse their antagonists; while the tournaments
were
intended for a display of skill and address in evolutions,
and with
various weapons, and greater courtesy was observed in
the regulations.
By these it was forbidden to wound the horse, or to use
the point of
the sword, or to strike a knight after he had raised his
visor, or
unlaced his helmet. The ladies encouraged their knights
in these
exercises; they bestowed prizes, and the conqueror's feats
were the
theme of romance and song. The stands overlooking the
ground, of
course, were varied in the shapes of towers, terraces,
galleries,
and pensile gardens, magnificently decorated with tapestry,
pavilions,
and banners. Every combatant proclaimed the name of the
lady whose
servant d'amour he was. He was wont to look up to the
stand, and
strengthen his courage by the sight of the bright eyes
that were
raining their influence on him from above. The. knights
also carried
favors, consisting of scarfs, veils, sleeves, bracelets,
clasps,- in
short, some piece of female habiliment,- attached to their
helmets,
shields, or armor. If, during the combat, any of these
appendages were
dropped or lost, the fair donor would at times send her
knight new
ones, especially if pleased with his exertions.
MAIL ARMOR.
Mail armor, of which the hauberk is a species, and which
derived its
name from maille, a French word for mesh, was of two kinds,
plate or
scale mail, and chain mail. It was originally used for
the
protection of the body only, reaching no lower than the
knees. It
was shaped like a carter's frock, and bound round the
waist by a
girdle. Gloves and hose of mail were afterwards added,
and a hood,
which, when necessary, was drawn over the head, leaving
the face alone
uncovered. To protect the skin from the impression of
the iron network
of the chain mail, a quilted lining was employed, which,
however,
was insufficient, and the bath was used to efface the
marks of the
armor.
The hauberk was a complete covering of double chain
mail. Some
hauberks opened before, like a modern coat; others were
closed like
a shirt.
The chain mail of which they were composed was formed
by a number of
iron links, each link having others inserted into it,
the whole
exhibiting a kind of network, of which (in some instances
at least)
the meshes were circular, with each link separately riveted.
The hauberk was proof against the most violent blow
of a sword;
but the point of a lance might pass through the meshes,
or drive the
iron into the flesh. To guard against this, a thick and
well-stuffed
doublet was worn underneath, under which was commonly
added an iron
breastplate. Hence the expression "to pierce both
plate and mail,"
so common in the earlier poets.
Mail armor continued in general use till about the year
1300, when
it was gradually supplanted by plate armor, or suits consisting
of
pieces or plates of solid iron, adapted to the different
parts of
the body.
Shields were generally made of wood, covered with leather,
or some
similar substance. To secure them, in some sort, from
being cut
through by the sword, they were surrounded with a hoop
of metal.
HELMETS.
The helmet was composed of two parts: the headpiece,
which was
strengthened within by several circles of iron; and the
visor,
which, as the name implies, was a sort of grating to see
through, so
contrived as, by sliding in a groove, or turning on a
pivot, to be
raised or lowered at pleasure. Some helmets had a further
improvement called a bever, from the Italian bevere, to
drink. The
ventayle, or "air-passage," is another name
for this.
To secure the helmet from the possibility of falling,
or of being
struck off, it was tied by several laces to the meshes
of the hauberk;
consequently, when a knight was overthrown, it was necessary
to undo
these laces before he could be put to death; though this
was sometimes
effected by lifting up the skirt of the hauberk, and stabbing
him in
the belly. The instrument of death was a small dagger,
worn on the
right side.
ROMANCES.
In ages when there were no books, when noblemen and
princes
themselves could not read, history or tradition was monopolized
by the
story-tellers. They inherited, generation after generation,
the
wondrous tales of their predecessors, which they retailed
to the
public with such additions of their own as their acquired
information supplied them with. Anachronisms became of
course very
common, and errors of geography, of locality, of manners,
equally
so. Spurious genealogies were invented, in which Arthur
and his
knights, and Charlemagne and his paladins, were made to
derive their
descent from AEneas, Hector, or some other of the Trojan
heroes.
With regard to the derivation of the word Romance, we
trace it to
the fact that the dialects which were formed in Western
Europe, from
the admixture of Latin with the native languages, took
the name of
Langue Romaine. The French language was divided into two
dialects. The
river Loire was their common boundary. In the provinces
to the south
of that river the affirmative, yes, was expressed by the
word oc; in
the north it was called oil (oui); and hence Dante has
named the
southern language langue d'oc, and the northern langue
d'oil. The
latter, which was carried into England by the Normans,
and is the
origin of the present French, may be called the French
Romane; and the
former the Provencal, or Provencial Romane, because it
was spoken by
the people of Provence and Languedoc, southern provinces
of France.
These dialects were soon distinguished by very opposite
characters. A soft and enervating climate, a spirit of
commerce
encouraged by an easy communication with other maritime
nations, the
influx of wealth, and a more settled government, may have
tended to
polish and soften the diction of the Provencials, whose
poets, under
the name of Troubadours, were the masters of the Italians,
and
particularly of Petrarch. Their favorite pieces were Sirventes
(satirical pieces), love-songs, and Tensons, which last
were a sort of
dialogue in verse between two poets, who questioned each
other on some
refined points of love's casuistry. It seems the Provencials
were so
completely absorbed in these delicate questions as to
neglect and
despise the composition of fabulous histories of adventure
and
knighthood, which they left in a great measure to the
poets of the
northern part of the kingdom, called Trouveurs.
At a time when chivalry excited universal admiration,
and when all
the efforts of that chivalry were directed against the
enemies of
religion, it was natural that literature should receive
the same
impulse, and that history and fable should be ransacked
to furnish
examples of courage and piety that might excite increased
emulation.
Arthur and Charlemagne were the two heroes selected for
this
purpose. Arthur's pretensions were that he was a brave,
though not
always a successful warrior; he had withstood with great
resolution
the arms of the infidels, that is to say, of the Saxons,
and his
memory was held in the highest estimation by his countrymen,
the
Britons, who carried with them into Wales, and into the
kindred
country of Armorica, or Brittany, the memory of his exploits,
which
their national vanity insensibly exaggerated, till the
little prince
of the Silures (South Wales) was magnified into the conqueror
of
England, of Gaul, and of the greater part of Europe. His
genealogy was
gradually carried up to an imaginary Brutus, and to the
period of
the Trojan war, and a sort of chronicle was composed in
the Welsh,
or Armorican language, which, under the pompous title
of the History
of the Kings of Britain, was translated into Latin by
Geoffrey of
Monmouth, about the year 1150. The Welsh critics consider
the material
of the work to have been an older history, written by
St. Talian,
Bishop of St. Asaph, in the seventh century.
As to Charlemagne, though his real merits were sufficient
to
secure his immortality, it was impossible that his holy
wars against
the Saracens should not become a favorite topic for fiction.
Accordingly, the fabulous history of these wars was written,
probably towards the close of the eleventh century, by
a monk, who,
thinking it would add dignity to his work to embellish
it with a
contemporary name, boldly ascribed it to Turpin, who was
Archbishop of
Rheims about the year 773.
These fabulous chronicles were for a while imprisoned
in languages
of local only or of professional access. Both Turpin and
Geoffrey
might indeed be read by ecclesiastics, the sole Latin
scholars of
those times, and Geoffrey's British original would contribute
to the
gratification of Welshmen; but neither could become extensively
popular till translated into some language of general
and familiar
use. The Anglo-Saxon was at that time used only by a conquered
and
enslaved nation; the Spanish and Italian languages were
not yet
formed; the Norman French alone was spoken and understood
by the
nobility in the greater part of Europe, and therefore
was a proper
vehicle for the new mode of composition.
That language was fashionable in England before the
Conquest, and
became, after that event, the only language used at the
court of
London. As the various conquests of the Normans, and the
enthusiastic valor of that extraordinary people, had familiarized
the minds of men with the most marvellous events, their
poets
eagerly seized the fabulous legends of Arthur and Charlemagne,
translated them into the language of the day, and soon
produced a
variety of imitations. The adventures attributed to these
monarchs,
and to their distinguished warriors, together with those
of many other
traditionary or imaginary heroes, composed by degrees
that
formidable body of marvellous histories which, from the
dialect in
which the most ancient of them were written, were called
Romances.
METRICAL ROMANCES.
The earliest form in which romances appear is that of
a rude kind of
verse. In this form it is supposed they were sung or recited
at the
feasts of princes and knights in their baronial halls.
The following
specimen of the language and style of Robert de Beauvais,
who
flourished in 1257, is from Sir Walter Scott's Introduction
to the
Romance of Sir Tristram:
"Ne voil pas emmi dire,
Ici diverse la matyere,
Entre ceus qui solent cunter,
E de la cunte Tristran parler."
"I will not say too much about it,
So diverse is the matter,
Among those who are in the habit of telling
And relating the story of Tristran."
This is a specimen of the language which was in use
among the
nobility of England in the ages immediately after the
Norman conquest.
The following is a specimen of the English that existed
at the same
time among the common people. Robert de Brunne, speaking
of his
Latin and French authorities, says:-
"Als thai haf wryten and sayd
Haf I alle in myn Inglis layd,
In symple speeche as I couthe,
That is lightest in manne's mouthe.
Alle for the luf of symple men,
That strange Inglis cannot ken."
The "strange Inglis" being the language of
the previous specimen.
It was not till toward the end of the thirteenth century
that the
prose romances began to appear. These works generally
began with
disowning and discrediting the sources from which in reality
they drew
their sole information. As every romance was supposed
to be a real
history, the compilers of those in prose would have forfeited
all
credit if they had announced themselves as mere copyists
of the
minstrels. On the contrary, they usually state that, as
the popular
poems upon the matter in question contain many "lesings,"
they had
been induced to translate the real and true history of
such or such
a knight from the original Latin or Greek, or from the
ancient British
or Armorican authorities, which authorities existed only
in their
own assertion.
A specimen of the style of the prose romance may be
found in the
following extract from one of the most celebrated and
latest of
them, the Morte d'Arthur of Sir Thomas Mallory, of the
date of 1485.
From this work much of the contents of this volume has
been drawn,
with as close an adherence to the original style as was
thought
consistent with our plan of adapting our narrative to
the taste of
modern readers.
"It is notoyrly knowen thorugh the vnyuersal world
that there been
ix worthy and the best that ever were. That is to wete
thre paynyms,
thre Jewes, and thre crysten men. As for the paynyms,
they were tofore
the Incarnacyon of Cryst whiche were named, the fyrst
Hector of Troye;
the second Alysaunder the grete, and the thyrd Julyus
Cezar,
Emperour of Rome, of whome thystoryes ben well kno and
had. And as for
the thre Jewes whyche also were tofore thyncarnacyon of
our Lord, of
whome the fyrst was Duc Josue, whyche brought the chyldren
of
Israhel into the londe of beheste; the second Dauyd, kyng
of
Jherusalem, and the thyrd Judas Machabeus; of these thre
the byble
reherceth al theyr noble hystoryes and actes. And sythe
the sayd
Incarnacyon haue ben the noble crysten men stalled and
admytted
thorugh the vnyuersal world to the nombre of the ix beste
and
worthy, of whome was fyrst the noble Arthur, whose noble
actes I
purpose to wryte in this present book here folowyng. The
second was
Charlemayn, or Charles the grete, of whome thystorye is
had in many
places both in frensshe and englysshe, and the thyrd and
last was
Godefray of boloyn."
THE MABINOGEON.
It has been well known to the literati and antiquarians
of Europe,
that there exist in the great public libraries voluminous
manuscripts of romances and tales once popular, but which
on the
invention of printing had already become antiquated and
fallen into
neglect. They were therefore never printed, and seldom
perused even by
the learned, until about half a century ago, when attention
was
again directed to them, and they were found very curious
monuments
of ancient manners, habits, and modes of thinking. Several
have
since been edited, some by individuals, as Sir Walter
Scott and the
poet Southey, others by antiquarian societies. The class
of readers
which could be counted on for such publications was so
small that no
inducement of profit could be found to tempt editors and
publishers to
give them to the world. It was therefore only a few, and
those the
most accessible, which were put in print. There was a
class of
manuscripts of this kind which were known, or rather suspected,
to
be both curious and valuable, but which it seemed almost
hopeless ever
to see in fair printed English. These were the Welsh popular
tales,
called Mabinogeon, a plural word, the singular being Mabinogi,
a tale.
Manuscripts of these were contained in the Bodleian Library
at Oxford,
and elsewhere, but the difficulty was to find translators
and editors.
The Welsh is a spoken language among the peasantry of
Wales, but is
entirely neglected among the learned, unless they are
natives of the
principality. Of the few Welsh scholars none were found
who took
sufficient interest in this branch of learning to give
these
productions to the English public. Southey and Scott,
and others
who, like them, loved the old romantic legends of their
country, often
urged upon the Welsh literati the duty of reproducing
the
Mabinogeon. Southey, in the preface to his edition of
Morte
d'Arthur, says: "The specimens which I have seen
are exceedingly
curious; nor is there a greater desideratum in British
literature than
an edition of these tales, with a literal version, and
such comments
as Mr. Davies of all men is best qualified to give. Certain
it is that
many of the Round Table fictions originated in Wales,
or in
Bretagne, and probably might still be traced there."
Again, in a letter to Sir Charles W. W. Wynn, dated
1819, he says:-
"I begin almost to despair of ever seeing more
of the Mabinogeon;
and yet, if some competent Welshman could be found to
edit it
carefully, with as literal a version as possible, I am
sure it might
be made worth his while by a subscription, printing a
small edition at
a high price, perhaps two hundred at five guineas. I myself
would
gladly subscribe at that price per volume for such an
edition of the
whole of your genuine remains in prose and verse. Till
some such
collection is made, the 'gentlemen of Wales' ought to
be prohibited
from wearing a leek; ay, and interdicted from toasting
cheese also.
Your bards would have met with better usage if they had
been
Scotchmen."
Sharon Turner and Sir Walter Scott also expressed a
similar wish for
the publication of the Welsh manuscripts. The former took
part in an
attempt to effect it, through the instrumentality of a
Mr. Owen, a
Welshman, but, we judge, by what Southey says of him,
imperfectly
acquainted with English. Southey's language is, "William
Owen lent
me three parts of the Mabinogeon, delightfully translated
into so
Welsh an idiom and syntax that such a translation is as
instructive as
an original." In another letter he adds, "Let
Sharon make his language
grammatical, but not alter their idiom in the slightest
point."
It is possible Mr. Owen did not proceed far in an undertaking
which,
so executed, could expect but little popular patronage.
It was not
till an individual should appear possessed of the requisite
knowledge of the two languages, of enthusiasm sufficient
for the task,
and of pecuniary resources sufficient to be independent
of the
booksellers and of the reading public, that such a work
could be
confidently expected. Such an individual has, since Southey's
day
and Scott's, appeared in the person of Lady Charlotte
Guest, an
English lady united to a gentleman of property in Wales,
who, having
acquired the language of the principality, and become
enthusiastically
fond of its literary treasures, has given them to the
English
reader, in a dress which the printer's and the engraver's
arts have
done their best to adorn. In four royal octave volumes
containing
the Welsh originals, the translation, and ample illustrations
from
French, German, and other contemporary and affiliated
literature,
the Mabinogeon is spread before us. To the antiquarian
and the student
of language and ethnology an invaluable treasure, it yet
can hardly,
in such a form, win its way to popular acquaintance. We
claim no other
merit than that of bringing it to the knowledge of our
readers, of
abridging its details, of selecting its most attractive
portions,
and of faithfully preserving throughout the style in which
Lady
Guest has clothed her legends. For this service we hope
that our
readers will confess we have laid them under no light
obligation.
CHAPTER IX.
THE STORY OF LAUNCELOT.- QUEEN GUENEVER'S PERIL.
IT happened at this time that Queen Guenever was thrown
into great
peril of her life. A certain squire who was in her immediate
service, having some cause of animosity to Sir Gawain,
determined to
destroy him by poison at a public entertainment. For this
purpose he
concealed the poison in an apple of fine appearance, which
he placed
on the top of several others, and put the dish before
the queen,
hoping that, as Sir Gawain was the knight of greatest
dignity, she
would present the apple to him. But it happened that a
Scottish knight
of high distinction, who arrived on that day, was seated
next to the
queen, and to him, as a stranger, she presented the apple,
which he
had no sooner eaten than he was seized with dreadful pain,
and fell
senseless. The whole court was of course thrown into confusion;
the
knights rose from table, darting looks of indignation
at the
wretched queen, whose tears and protestations were unable
to remove
their suspicions. In spite of all that could be done the
knight
died, and nothing remained but to order a magnificent
funeral and
monument for him, which was done.
Some time after, Sir Mador, brother of the murdered
knight,
arrived at Arthur's court in quest of him. While hunting
in the forest
he by chance came to the spot where the monument was erected,
read the
inscription, and returned to court determined on immediate
and
signal vengeance. He rode into the hall, loudly accused
the queen of
treason, and insisted on her being given up to punishment,
unless
she should find, by a certain day, a knight hardy enough
to risk his
life in support of her innocence. Arthur, powerful as
he was, did
not dare to deny the appeal, but was compelled, with a
heavy heart, to
accept it, and Mador sternly took his departure, leaving
the royal
couple plunged in terror and anxiety.
During all this time Launcelot was absent, and no one
knew where
he was. He had fled in anger from his fair mistress, upon
being
reproached by her with his passion for the Lady of Shalott,
which
she had hastily inferred from his wearing her scarf at
the tournament.
He took up his abode with a hermit in the forest, and
resolved to
think no more of the cruel beauty, whose conduct he thought
must
flow from a wish to get rid of him. Yet calm reflection
had somewhat
cooled his indignation, and he had begun to wish, though
hardly able
to hope, for a reconciliation, when the news of Sir Mador's
challenge fortunately reached his ears. The intelligence
revived his
spirits, and he began to prepare with the utmost cheerfulness
for a
contest which, if successful, would insure him at once
the affection
of his mistress and the gratitude of his sovereign.
The sad fate of the Lady of Shalott had ere this completely
acquitted Launcelot in the queen's mind of all suspicion
of his
fidelity, and she lamented most grievously her foolish
quarrel with
him, which now, at her time of need, deprived her of her
most
efficient champion.
As the day appointed by Sir Mador was fast approaching,
it became
necessary that she should procure a champion for her defence;
and
she successively adjured Sir Hector, Sir Lionel, Sir Bohort,
and Sir
Gawain to undertake the battle. She fell on her knees
before them,
called Heaven to witness her innocence of the crime alleged
against
her, but was sternly answered by all that they could not
fight to
maintain the innocence of one whose act, and the fatal
consequences of
it, they had seen with their own eyes. She retired, therefore,
dejected and disconsolate; but the sight of the fatal
pile on which,
if guilty, she was doomed to be burned, exciting her to
fresh
effort, she again repaired to Sir Bohort, threw herself
at his feet,
and, piteously calling on him for mercy, fell into a swoon.
The
brave knight was not proof against this. He raised her
up, and hastily
promised that he would undertake her cause, if no other
or better
champion should present himself. He then summoned his
friends, and
told them his resolution; and as a mortal combat with
Sir Mador was
a most fearful enterprise, they agreed to accompany him
in the morning
to the hermitage in the forest, where he proposed to receive
absolution from the hermit, and to make his peace with
Heaven,
before he entered the lists. As they approached the hermitage,
they
espied a knight riding in the forest, whom they at once
recognized
as Sir Launcelot. Overjoyed at the meeting, they quickly,
in answer to
his questions, confirmed the news of the queen's imminent
danger,
and received his instructions to return to court, to comfort
her as
well as they could, but to say nothing of his intention
of undertaking
her defence, which he meant to do in the character of
an unknown
adventurer.
On their return to the castle they found that mass was
finished, and
had scarcely time to speak to the queen before they were
summoned into
the hall to dinner. A general gloom was spread over the
countenances
of all the guests. Arthur himself was unable to conceal
his dejection,
and the wretched Guenever, motionless and bathed in tears,
sat in
trembling expectation of Sir Mador's appearance. Nor was
it long ere
he stalked into the hall, and with a voice of thunder,
rendered more
impressive by the general silence, demanded instant justice
on the
guilty party. Arthur replied with dignity, that little
of the day
was yet spent, and that perhaps a champion might yet be
found
capable of satisfying his thirst for battle. Sir Bohort
now rose
from table, and, shortly returning in complete armor,
resumed his
place, after receiving the embraces and thanks of the
king, who now
began to resume some degree of confidence. Sir Mador,
growing
impatient, again repeated his denunciations of vengeance,
and insisted
that the combat should no longer be postponed.
In the height of the debate there came riding into the
hall a knight
mounted on a black steed, and clad in black armor, with
his visor
down, and lance in hand. "Sir," said the king,
"is it your will to
alight and partake of our cheer?" "Nay, sir,"
he replied; "I come to
save a lady's life. The queen hath ill bestowed her favors,
and
honored many a knight, that in her hour of need she should
have none
to take her part. Thou that darest accuse her of treachery
stand
forth, for to-day shalt thou need all thy might."
Sir Mador, though surprised, was not appalled by the
stern challenge
and formidable appearance of his antagonist, but prepared
for the
encounter. At the first shock both were unhorsed. They
then drew their
swords, and commenced a combat which lasted from noon
till evening,
when Sir Mador, whose strength began to fail, was felled
to the ground
by Launcelot, and compelled to sue for mercy The victor,
whose arm was
already raised to terminate the life of his opponent,
instantly
dropped his sword, courteously lifted up the fainting
Sir Mador,
frankly confessing that he had never before encountered
so
formidable an enemy. The other, with similar courtesy,
solemnly
renounced all further projects of vengeance for his brother's
death;
and the two knights, now become fast friends, embraced
each other with
the greatest cordiality. In the meantime Arthur, having
recognized Sir
Launcelot, whose helmet was now unlaced, rushed down into
the lists,
followed by all his knights, to welcome and thank his
deliverer.
Guenever swooned with joy, and the place of combat suddenly
exhibited a scene of the most tumultuous delight.
The general satisfaction was still further increased
by the
discovery of the real culprit. Having accidentally incurred
some
suspicion, be confessed his crime, and was publicly punished
in the
presence of Sir Mador.
The court now returned to the castle, which, with the
title of "La
Joyeuse Garde" bestowed upon it in memory of the
happy event, was
conferred on Sir Launcelot by Arthur, as a memorial of
his gratitude.
So far of the Story of Sir Launcelot. Let us turn now
to the Story
of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse.
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