Volume 2 — MIDDLE AGES.

As the passion for conquest extended, warlike and predatory bands spread over Europe, seizing whatever they could take by force of arms. No other right but that of the strongest was acknowledged. Hence castles and fortifications became necessary; and the weak were glad to submit to any service to obtain the protection of the powerful. These circumstances were the origin of the feudal system. For a long time, women were not allowed to inherit lands, because the warlike barons required a military tenant, from whom they could claim assistance in time of need; but afterward women were allowed to succeed in default of male heirs, provided they paid a required contribution in money, instead of forces. If they married without the consent of their feudal lord, they forfeited their inheritance; and if he chose a husband for them, they were compelled to accept him. The law required that every heiress under sixty years of age should marry, and that her husband should perform feudal duties. If a baron did not provide when a girl was twelve years old, she might in open court require him to present three men for her selection; and if he did not comply, he had no right to control her choice afterward. She might likewise at that age claim from her guardian the uncontrolled management of her estates. The mother was guardian of an infant, and in case of her death, the next heir supplied her place. The widow’s dowry was half of her husband’s estate for life, and half of his chattels. If there was not sufficient to pay debts, the widow and creditors divided equally. In some places, the feudal lord claimed and enforced certain privileges with regard to the daughters of his tenants, which are too gross to be described. It is true there were beautiful instances of a patriarchal relation, where the noble-hearted baron received cheerful and affectionate service, and gave ample protection and munificent kindness in return; but these were exceptions. There was a vast amount of ignorance, degradation, corruption, and tyranny, as there ever must be where one portion of the human family are allowed unrestrained power over the other.

For several centuries after the fall of Rome, the state of society was exceedingly unsettled and turbulent. The priests and the powerful barons were continually at variance with the kings, neither of them being willing to consent to a division of power; and the settlement of the Saracens, or Moors, in Spain, produced a spirit of ferocious discord in religion. The daughters of princes and nobles lived in perpetual danger; for bold, ambitious men, who coveted their kingdoms, or their fortunes, often stormed their castles, carried them off, and compelled them to marry, without pretending to consult their inclinations. Thus the Saxon heiresses were divided among the retainers of William the Conqueror. The annals of Scotland furnish a curious instance of these warlike marriages. Sir William Scott made an incursion upon the territories of Murray of Elibank, and was taken prisoner. Murray, in accordance with the barbarous spirit of the times, sentenced his enemy to immediate death; but his wife said, “Hout, na, mon! Would ye hang the winsome young laird of Harden, when ye have three ill-favored daughters to marry?” “Right,” answered the baron of Elibank; “he shall either marry our mickle-mouthed Meg, or strap for it.” The prisoner at first resisted the proposal; but he finally preferred “mickle-mouthed Meg” to the halter; and the union thus inauspiciously formed proved exceedingly happy.

The father or guardian of the bride generally gave her to the bridegroom with these words: “I give thee ——, my daughter, or my ward, to have the keeping of the keys of thy house, and one third of the money thou art possessed of, or shall possess hereafter, and to enjoy all the other rights appointed to wives by law.” The bridegroom generally bestowed handsome presents on the bride, and she received a dowry proportioned to her father’s wealth.

The young couple were usually escorted to church by a troop of friends. The priest crowned them with flowers and pronounced a blessing. Maidens were married beneath a canopy; but this custom was not observed by widows.

Among the Franks, marriages were not legal unless solemnized in a full court, where a buckler had three times been lifted up, and three causes openly tried. Soter, the fifth bishop of Rome, is said to have been the first who declared marriages illegal unless solemnized by a priest. A magnificent feast was given in honor of noble marriages, where immense quantities of wine were drank, and music, dancing, and minstrel songs enlivened the scene. All the retainers, or vassals, of the feudal lord, partook of the banquet, which of course was spread in a spacious hall. The guests sat at table according to their rank; and a huge salt-cellar marked the dividing line between the noble and the ignoble. Below the salt-cellar, the food was coarser, and the liquors of a cheap kind.

The unsettled state of society made it exceedingly difficult to have any places of safe deposit for articles of merchandise, resembling the convenient stores and shops of modern times. For this reason, fairs were held; and gradually various shows, antic tricks, and minstrel songs, were added to the other allurements of the scene. Women visited these places, escorted by fathers or husbands, with a strong band of warlike retainers. In the absence of their natural protectors, ladies could not venture beyond the walls of their castle, even to visit a dying friend, without being liable to insult and violence. But in a short time every gallant warrior publicly declared himself the champion of some fair dame, and proclaimed that any offence given to her, either in his presence or absence, would meet with ample revenge at his hand. This was the beginning of the remarkable institution of chivalry, which has been compared to a golden thread running through the dark history of the middle ages. Women, who before this period had been subject to every species of rudeness and neglect, were soon worshipped as deities. Those of great beauty, wealth, or rank, of course had the greatest number of champions; but chivalry extended itself by degrees, until it embraced for its universal object the protection of the weak against the strong; and women of all ages and ranks were treated with deference, because their cause was known to be the cause of chivalry. No man was admitted into the order without the fullest proof of his bravery, integrity, and virtue. The least disparaging word against the female sex disqualified a knight for the duties and privileges of his profession. A lady having any cause of complaint against a knight touched his helmet, or shield, as a sign that she impeached him of crime, and applied to the judges for redress. If found guilty of any misdemeanor, the culprit was excluded from the order, and could never be restored, except by the intercession of the offended fair one, and the most solemn promises of amendment.

None but women of stainless reputation were included within the pale of chivalry; the principles of the order did not require that the sword should be drawn in defence of one who had forfeited her claim to respect. The cavaliers, as they travelled, often wrote sentences of infamy on the door of a castle where a woman of tarnished character resided; but where a lady of unsullied honor dwelt, they paused and saluted her most courteously. At public ceremonies, a distinction was made in favor of the virtuous. If a woman of impure character took precedence of one distinguished for modesty, a cavalier boldly advanced and reversed the order, saying: “Be not offended that this lady precedes you, for although she is not so rich or well allied as you are, yet her fame has never been impeached.”

The sons of gentlemen were generally placed with some friend, or superior nobleman, to acquire the education of a knight, which began as early as seven or eight years of age. The boy was required to attend upon his lord or lady in the hall, to convey their messages, and follow them in all their exercises of war or pastime. From the men he learned to leap trenches, cast spears, sustain the shield, and walk like a soldier. The ladies of the court gave him his moral and intellectual education; or, in other words, they instructed him in his prayers, and the maxims of chivalric love. He was taught to regard some one lady as his peculiar idol, to whom he was to be obedient, courteous, and constant. “While the young Jean de Saintré was a page of honor at the court of the French king, the dame des Belles Cousines inquired of him the name of the mistress of his heart’s affections. The simple youth replied that he loved his lady mother, and next to her his sister Jacqueline was dear to him. ‘Young man,’ rejoined the lady, ‘I am not speaking of the affection due to your mother and sister; I wish to know the name of the lady to whom you are attached par amour.’ The poor boy was confused, and could only reply that he loved no one par amour. The dame des Belles Cousines charged him with being a traitor to the laws of chivalry, and declared that his craven spirit was evinced by such an avowal. ‘Whence sprang the valiancy and knightly feats of Launcelot, Tristram, Giron the courteous, and other ornaments of the round table?’ said she: ‘whence the grandeur of many I have known rise to renown, except from the noble desire of maintaining themselves in the grace and esteem of the ladies? Without this spirit-stirring sentiment, they must have ever remained in the shades of obscurity. And do you, coward valet, presume to declare that you possess no sovereign lady, and desire to have none?’

“Jean underwent a long scene of persecution, but was at last restored to favor by the intercession of the ladies of the court. He then named as his mistress Matheline de Courcy, a child only ten years old. ‘Matheline is indeed a pretty girl,’ replied the dame des Belles Cousines; ‘but what profit, what honor, what comfort, what aid, what counsel for advancing you in chivalrous fame, can you derive from such a choice? You should elect a lady of noble blood, who has the ability to advise, and the power to assist you; and you should serve her so truly, and love her so loyally, as to compel her to acknowledge the honorable affection you entertain for her. Be assured there is no lady, however cruel and haughty she may be, but through long service will be induced to acknowledge and reward loyal affection with some portion of mercy. By such a course, you will gain the praise of worthy knighthood; till then, I would not give an apple for you or your achievements. He who loyally serves his lady, will not only be blessed at the height of man’s felicity in this life, but will never fall into those sins that prevent happiness hereafter. Pride will be entirely effaced from the heart of him, who endeavors by humility and courtesy to win the grace of a lady. The true faith of a lover will defend him from the sins of anger, envy, sloth, and gluttony; and his devotion to his mistress renders the thought impossible of his conduct ever being stained with the vice of profligacy.’”

The service which a lady required of her true knight may be inferred from the following lines of the old English poet, Gower, who wrote in the days of Edward the Third:

These gentle services were the least arduous that a knight was pledged to perform. The most desperate battles were fought to restore a lady’s rights, to avenge a lady’s wrongs, or even to gain a lady’s smile. It was a common maxim of that period that he who knew how to break a lance, and did not understand how to win a lady, was but half a man. A knight without a lady-love was compared to a ship without a rudder, or a horse without a bridle. “Oh that my lady saw me!” was the eager exclamation of a gallant knight, as he mounted the wall of a besieged city, in the pride of successful courage.

A cavalier, called the Knight of the Swan, reinstated a lady in the possessions of which the duke of Saxony had deprived her. During the reign of Charles the Sixth of France, the gentlewomen of the country laid before the monarch grievous complaints of their sufferings and losses from the aggressions of powerful lords; and lamented that chivalry had so much degenerated that no knights and squires had armed in their defence. This appeal roused the valiant Boucicaut, who gathered a band of chevaliers around him, and formed a fraternity for the protection of all dames and damsels of noble lineage. The device on their shields was a lady in a green field, and their motto promised redress to all gentlewomen injured in honor or fortune. The gallant Boucicaut carried the principle of veneration a little farther than was, perhaps, pleasing to the sovereign ladies of that romantic period; for he would not permit one of the knights of his banner to look a second time at a window where a handsome woman was seated.

In the Spanish order of the Scarf, duties to women were more insisted on than in any other order. If one of those knights instituted an action against the daughter of a brother-knight, no woman would consent to be his lady-love, or wife. If he happened to meet a lady when riding, it was his duty to alight from his horse, and tender his service, upon pain of losing a month’s wages, and the favor of all dames and damsels; and he who hesitated to perform any behest from a woman was branded with the title of The Discourteous Knight.

Combats often took place for no other purpose but to do credit to the chosen object of a knight’s affections. This sentiment was frequently a cause of national rivalry. During a cessation of hostilities, a cavalier would sally forth, and demand whether any knight in the opposite host were disposed to do a deed of arms for the sake of his lady bright. “Now let us see if there be any amorous among you,” was the usual conclusion of such a challenge, as the cavalier curbed his impetuous steed, and laid his lance in rest. Such an invitation was seldom refused; but if it chanced to be so, the bold knight was suffered to return in safety; for it was deemed unchivalric to capture or molest an enemy, who thus voluntarily placed himself in the power of his opponents. When two parties of French and English met accidentally near Cherbourg, Sir Launcelot of Lorrys demanded a course of jousting with the English knights for his lady’s sake. The offer was eagerly accepted, and at the very first onset Sir John Copeland wounded the French cavalier to death. The chronicler says: “Every one lamented his fate, for he was a hardy knight, young, jolly, and right amorous.”

James the Fourth, of Scotland, was celebrated for his romantic chivalry, and graceful bearing at jousts and tournaments; and Louis the Twelfth, of France, made use of these traits in his character to effect his own political purposes. Being deserted by most of his allies, he was anxious to renew the old bond of friendship between France and Scotland; but this was rendered difficult by the fact that England and Scotland were at peace, and by the marriage of James with the sister of Henry the Eighth. This being the posture of political affairs, Louis induced his beautiful wife, Anne of Bretagne, to choose the king of Scotland for her knight and champion. An ambassador was sent to Edinburgh, to present letters from the French queen, wherein she assumed the style of a high-born damsel in distress, assured James that she had suffered much blame in defence of his honor, called him her chosen knight, and besought him for her sake to advance but three steps into the territory of England, with his warlike banners floating on the breeze. A present of fourteen thousand crowns, with a glove and a turquois ring from her own hand, accompanied the message. The chivalric feelings of James would not permit him to refuse a lady’s request, especially when that lady was a beauty and a queen. The order was obeyed; and the hostilities thus commenced terminated in the defeat at Flodden field, so disastrous to Scotland.

But the good produced by chivalry, in softening the character of those rude ages, was no doubt greater than the evils arising from its occasional excesses. A knight was bound to grant safe conduct through his territories to those that requested it, even when they came to deprive him of his possessions. When Matilda landed near Arundel, to contend for the throne of England, Stephen gave her honorable escort to the castle of his brother, the earl of Gloucester. It was not considered honorable and courteous to take ladies in war. When a town was captured, the heralds were wont to proclaim that it was the conqueror’s will no violence, or disrespect, should be offered to any gentlewoman. When Caen fell into the hands of the English, in the reign of Edward the Third, Sir Thomas Holland protected many ladies, damsels, and nuns from outrage; and when the castle of Poys was taken, the English knights escorted the daughters of lord Poys to the presence of Edward, who gave them a cordial welcome, and ordered them to be safely conducted to a town friendly to their family.

In the wars of the Guelphs and the Ghibbelines, the emperor Conrad refused all terms of capitulation to the garrison of Winnisberg; but, like a true knight, he granted the request of the women to pass out in safety, with such of their most precious effects as they could themselves carry. When the gates were opened, a long procession of matrons and maidens appeared, each bearing a husband, son, father, or brother, on her shoulders. As they passed through the enemy’s lines, all respectfully made way for them, while the whole camp rang with shouts of applause.

The sentiment of courtesy was carried so far, that when the Normans and English took the castle of Du Gueslin, they were indignantly reproved, because they had transgressed the license of war, by disturbing the ladies of the castle while they were asleep.

In those turbulent times, no wonder that courage was the quality most dear to a woman’s heart, and chivalry the idol of her imagination. Ladies endeavored to stifle the first emotions of love, and proudly answered their humble suitors, that they must expect no favor until they had gained sufficient renown by their military exploits. “I should have loved him better dead than alive,” exclaimed a noble damsel, when she heard that her chosen knight had survived his honor; and another, being reproached for loving an ugly man, replied, “He is so valiant I have never observed his face.”

In some cases, these romantic feelings overcame even the stern distinctions of feudal pride. A squire of low degree often aspired to the hand of a princess, and not unfrequently gained it, by the ardor of his passion and the desperate valor of his achievements. A young candidate for chivalry said to a high-born beauty, “How can I hope to find a damsel of noble birth, who will return the affection of a knight ungraced by rank, with only his good sword to rely upon?” “And why should you not find her?” replied the lady. “Are you not gently born? Are you not a handsome youth? Have you not eyes to gaze on her, ears to hear her, feet to move at her will, body and heart to accomplish loyally all her commands? Possessing these qualities, you cannot doubt to adventure yourself in the service of a lady, however exalted her rank.”

The martial spirit of women was fostered by the honorary titles bestowed on them, and the part they were expected to take in the splendid pageants of the day. The wife of a knight was often called equitissa, or militissa, or chevalière; and a high-spirited maiden was called le bel cavalier. In France, women who ruled over fiefs could confer knighthood, and had a right to make war, decide judicial questions, and coin money. At the solemn and imposing ceremony of a knight’s inauguration, fair ladies attended upon him, and delivered him the various pieces of his armor. His coat of mail was usually crossed by a scarf, which his lady-love had embroidered in the seclusion of her own apartment. The crest of the helmet was often adorned with ringlets of fair hair, a garland of flowers, or a lady’s glove, which was sometimes set in pearls. But the great scene of beauty’s triumph was in the gorgeous pageant of the tournament. On these occasions women had sovereign power. If any complaint was made against a knight, they adjudged his cause without appeal. They generally deputed their power to some cavalier, who was called the Knight of Honor. He bore at the end of his lance a ribbon, a glove, or some other token of woman’s favor, and the fiercest warriors obeyed the orders sanctioned by these simple emblems. The dames and damsels sometimes offered a diamond, a ruby, a sapphire, a silver helmet, or richly embossed shield, as the reward of him who should prove himself the bravest in this mimic war. The laws of chivalry required that a polite preference should always be given to foreigners; hence when a martial game was held at Smithfield, during the reign of Richard the Second, the queen proposed a golden crown to the best jouster, if he were a stranger, but if an English knight, a rich bracelet was to be his reward. “On the morning of the day appointed for this merry tournament, there issued out of the Tower of London, first threescore coursers apparelled for the lists, and on every one a squire of honor, riding a soft pace. Then appeared threescore ladies of honor, mounted on fair palfreys, each lady leading by a chain of silver a knight sheathed in jousting harness. The fair and gallant troop, with the sound of clarions, trumpets, and other minstrelsy, rode along the streets of London, the fronts of the housing shining with martial glory in the rich banners and tapestries, which hung from the windows.”

The ladies who attended these splendid festivals often wore girdles ornamented with gold and silver, in imitation of military belts, and playfully wielded short light swords, embossed with emblems of love and war. The ladies and high-born spectators were arranged round the lists in galleries highly adorned. The knights were known by the heraldic emblems on their shields and banners, and their names were publicly announced by the heralds. No one was allowed to tourney, who had blasphemed God, offended the ladies, or assailed his adversary without warning. Each knight was accompanied by squires, to furnish him with arms, adjust his armor, and bring encouraging messages from his lady-love. If the shock of spears tore from a warrior’s helmet the emblem of affection which the hand of some fair damsel had placed there, she often took a ribbon from her own person, and sent it to him with a courteous message. As the combat proceeded, the air was rent with the names of ladies; for each knight invoked his mistress to assist him, as if she were endowed with supernatural power to guide and strengthen him.

The older warriors, who stood gazing on the exciting scene, called out, “On, valiant knights! Beautiful eyes behold your deeds!” And when the minstrels greeted some bold achievement with loud strains of music, the spectators shouted, “Loyauté aux dames!”

When the combats were ended, the heralds presented to the ladies those knights who had borne themselves most bravely. One, who was elected by her companions, was called the Queen of Beauty and Love. Before her the warriors knelt down, and received the prizes awarded to their valor. Sometimes the victorious knights were allowed to choose the fair hand from which they received their reward. The Queen of Beauty and Love presented the prize, thanked him for the skill in arms which he had that day displayed, and wished him success in love; the gallant knight bowed low and replied, “My victory was entirely owing to the favor of my mistress, which I wore in my helmet.”

When the heavy armor was laid aside, the cavaliers entered the banqueting hall, and, amid the flourish of trumpets, seated themselves under silken banners, with their favorite falcons perched above their heads. The guests were placed two by two, every knight with a lady by his side. To eat from the same trencher, or plate, was considered a strong proof of affection. In the Romance of Perceforest it is said, “there were eight hundred knights all seated at table, and yet there was not one who had not a dame or damsel at his plate.” An invitation to a feast, from a lady to her chosen knight, is thus described:

The minstrels tuned their harps to the praise of beauty and valor, and after the tables were removed, each knight chose his partner for the dance by kissing her hand. This custom was introduced into England from Italy, or Spain, and still retaining the language of the country whence it came, was called basciomani.

The peacock was much honored in the days of chivalry. The knights associated them with all their ideas of renown, and swore by the peacocks, as well as by the ladies, to perform their boldest enterprises. The vow of the peacock was sometimes made at a festival prepared for the occasion. Between the courses of the repast, a troop of ladies brought in the splendid bird, on a golden or silver dish, roasted, but covered with its feathers. In order to do this, it was skinned very carefully previous to being cooked, and was then served up in its plumage, with the brilliant tail feathers spread out; but some preferred to have it covered with leaf gold. Just before it was brought into the banqueting hall, they crammed the beak with wool, which being dipped in inflammable matter and set on fire, made the peacock appear to breathe forth flames.

The hall was adorned with mimic forests, and with images of men, animals, &c., expressive of the object for which the vow was to be taken. If it had relation to wars in defence of religion, a matron, in mourning garments, entered the room, and repeated a long complaint in verse, concerning the wrongs she suffered under the infidel yoke, and the tardiness of European knights in coming to her rescue. Some knights then advanced with measured tread, to the sound of minstrelsy, and presented to the lord of the castle the two ladies bearing the noble bird in a glittering dish. The ladies besought his protection, and he swore by God, the virgin Mary, the ladies, and the peacock, that he would make war upon the infidels. Every knight in the hall drew his sword and repeated the vow. The dish was then placed on the table, and the peacock carved in such a manner that every guest might taste a morsel. A lady, dressed in white, came in to thank the assembly, presenting twelve maidens, wearing emblematical dresses to represent Faith, Charity, Justice, Reason, Prudence, Temperance, Strength, Generosity, Mercy, Diligence, Hope and Courage. These damsels trooped round the hall amid the cheers of the company, and so the repast concluded.

The passion for chess was universal at that period, when the favorite forms of recreation were a pantomime of war. The songs of the minstrels, or troubadours, were another source of delightful amusement; and deeds of valor, with maxims how to win a lady’s favor, were the perpetual theme. To play upon the harp, and be able to sing his love in verse, were considered as necessary qualifications to the knight of chivalry, as the knowledge of wielding his sword, or managing his good steed. Kings, princes, and knights, renowned for their military exploits, became professors of the “gaye science,” as it was called, and sung to the harp their own verses in praise of the beauty they adored. William, count of Poitou, the count de Foix, the dauphin of Auvergne, a prince of Orange, Thibault, count of Provence and king of Navarre, a king of Sicily, two kings of Arragon, and Richard the First of England, prided themselves upon their skill in minstrelsy. The younger sons and brothers of noble families very generally devoted themselves to this honorable profession, from which they derived both pleasure and profit. They wandered about from court to court, and from castle to castle, singing the praises of knights and ladies, who rewarded them with smiles, and thanks, rich dresses, horses, armor, and gold.

Bertrand de Born, a celebrated troubadour in the time of Henry the Second, says: “The first laws of honor are to make war; to tilt at Advent and Easter; and to enrich women with the spoils of the conquered.” Such sentiments were not remarkable at a period when he was considered the most honorable man, who had burned the greatest number of castles, and pillaged his neighbor’s estates most successfully. Bertrand being out of favor with his beautiful mistress, the wife of Talleyrand de Perigord, in consequence of slanderous stories she had heard of him, defends himself in a song very characteristic of the state of society. He wishes “that he may lose his favorite hawk in her first flight; that a falcon may bear her off as she sits upon his wrist, and tear her in his sight, if the sound of his lady’s voice be not dearer to him than all the gifts of love from another. That he may stumble with his shield about his neck; that his helmet may gall his brow; that his bridle may be too long, his stirrups too short; that he may be forced to ride a hard trotting horse, and find his groom drunk when he arrives at the gate; that the dice may never more be favorable to him at the gaming table; and that he may look on like a coward and see his lady wooed and won by another, if there be a word of truth in the accusations of his enemies.”

Some idea of the general ignorance of the times may be inferred from the remark of the minstrel, Bernard de Ventadour, who, when he sang the praises of the princess Eleanor, afterward mother of Richard the First, adds, “She approves my writings, and she can read them too.”

The story of Geoffroi Rudel is a remarkable illustration of the fervid and imaginative tone of sentiment that prevailed in those romantic days. He was the favorite minstrel of prince Geoffroi Plantagenet, the elder brother of Cœur de Lion. While he lived at the court of England, admired and beloved by noble knights and lovely ladies, he listened with delight to descriptions of a certain countess of Tripoli, whose beauty, kindness, and virtue, were perpetually praised by the crusaders that returned from Holy Land. Rudel fell deeply and passionately in love with her fame. In one of his songs he says: “I adore an object I have never seen. Yet I am convinced that among all the Saracen, Jewish, and Christian beauties, none can be compared with her. Every night she appears before me in enchanting dreams. The beauty I adore shall behold me, for her sake, clad in a woollen garment, and with a pilgrim’s staff.” The ardent troubadour actually sailed for Palestine. But he became grievously ill during the voyage, and was nearly senseless when the vessel reached the shores of Tripoli. The countess, being informed of the circumstances of his arrival, hastened to meet him, and offer all the consolation in her power. He fixed his eyes upon her with a joyful expression, and expired. The countess caused him to be magnificently buried among the Knights Templars, and erected a monument of porphyry, with an Arabic inscription, commemorating his genius and his love. She then retired to a cloister, and took the monastic vow. The last song Rudel had addressed to her was transcribed in letters of gold, and she wore it continually near her heart.

Richard de Barbesieu, having broken his vow of fidelity to a certain princess, built a cabin of boughs in the depth of the forest, and swore never to leave his solitude till the offended lady again took him into favor. Being a favorite minstrel in hall and bower, the knights and ladies sent him many entreaties to return; and finding their solicitations were all in vain, they tried their utmost to appease the anger of his lady-love. She at length relented so far as to promise him pardon, whenever a hundred brave knights, and a hundred beautiful dames, who had sworn eternal love to each other, should kneel before her, and with clasped hands supplicate mercy for their minstrel. A hundred brace of lovers performed the required ceremony, and the troubadour was pardoned.

Still more extravagant was the conduct of Pierre Vidal, a half-crazed poet, who followed Cœur de Lion to the crusade. Having been banished from the presence of one lady for his presumptuous boldness, he chose for the next object of his amorous effusions a lady by the name of Louve de Penautier. In her honor he assumed the name of Loup, and actually disguised himself as a wolf, in order to be hunted by a pack of hounds. He was brought back shockingly mangled; and the lady and her husband took care of his wounds, though they laughed at his folly.

The entire absence of jealousy in the husbands of that period is by no means the least remarkable feature of the times. They seem to have been proud of the protestations of love offered to their wives, and liberally rewarded the favored troubadour with jewels and gold. Agnes, countess of Foix, was beloved by a French minstrel, who became jealous of her. She sent her own confessor to him to complain of the injustice of his suspicions, and to swear that she was still faithful to him. She required him to write and publish the history of their loves in verse. Yet this princess was considered virtuous, both by her husband and the world. One of the troubadours beseeches a priest to grant him dispensation from vows of love to a lady whom he loved no longer; but he does not seem to have considered absolution necessary during the continuance of his attachment, although the object of it was the wife of another. Those who know human nature will probably think it requires a good deal of faith to believe that immaculate purity was universal.

The curious mixture of religion with love is another singular characteristic of the middle ages. The knight wrote poems in honor of the virgin Mary, which cannot easily be distinguished from those addressed to the lady of his affections. The troubadours burned tapers, and caused masses to be said for the success of their love; and one of them assures us that he devoutly crossed himself with joy and gratitude, every time he beheld his mistress. Peyre de Ruer devoted himself to a noble Italian lady, who was extremely fond of magnificent entertainments; and in order to find favor in her eyes he exhausted all his resources in banquets and joustes in her honor. The lady, however, could not be persuaded to exercise her sovereign attribute of mercy; and Ruer wandered about the country in the disguise of a pilgrim. He arrived at a certain church during the holy week, and asked permission to preach to the audience. This being granted, he gracefully and earnestly recited one of his own love-songs; for, says the chronicle, “he knew nothing better.” The congregation, supposing it to be a pious invocation to the virgin Mary, or the saints, were much affected; and when he held out his hat for the customary alms, it was heaped with silver. The minstrel cast aside his pilgrim weeds and in a splendid dress presented himself before his lady-love, with a new song in her praise; and she, overcome with such a proof of constancy, bestowed many caresses on the wandering troubadour.

In Spain, a certain company, called Disciplinarians, went through the streets every Good Friday, with sugar-loaf caps, white gloves and shoes, and sleeves tied with ribbons of such a color as their ladies particularly admired. They carried whips of small cords, with bits of glass fastened on the ends, and when they met a handsome woman, they began to whip themselves with all violence, insomuch that the blood spirted on her robes; for which honor she courteously thanked them. When a lover arrived opposite the balcony of his mistress, he scourged himself with redoubled fury, while she looked on with proud complacency, and perhaps rewarded his sufferings with a gracious smile.

Ladies of rank entered the lists of poetry in competition with troubadours of the other sex. Among these were the countess of Champagne, countess of Provence, dame Castelossa, the comtesse de Die, &c. The last-mentioned was beloved by the chevalier d’Adhèmar, whose courage and magnanimity she celebrated in verses, which the favored knight always carried in his bosom; and not unfrequently he entertained a company by singing his lady’s songs in praise of himself. He died of grief, in consequence of a false report of her inconstancy. The young comtesse took the veil immediately, and died the same year in the convent of St. Honoré. Her mother buried her with her lover, and erected a superb monument to the memory of both. The countess of Champagne was much celebrated for the manner in which she presided at one of the Courts of Love. These courts were composed of ladies summoned to meet together, for the purpose of discussing, in the most formal and serious manner, “beautiful and subtle questions of love.” They decided the precise amount of inconstancy which a lady might forgive, without lowering her own dignity, provided her lover made certain supplications, and performed certain penances; they took it into solemn consideration whether a lover was justified, under any circumstances, in expressing the slightest doubt of his lady’s fidelity; they laid down definite rules, and ceremonials of behavior, to be observed by those who wished to be beloved; and gravely discussed the question whether sentiment, or sight, the heart, or the eyes, contributed most powerfully to inspire affection.

A young maiden in those days was educated, like her brother, in the castle of some knight or baron, her father’s friend; and her duties, like his, were mostly those of personal attendance. She assisted in dressing her lady, and sought by music and conversation to beguile her lonely hours. Their learning, in general, was confined to recipes for cooking, simple medicines, needle-work, the ceremonials of chivalry, and the prayers of the church. Reading and writing were rare attainments, both with men and women.

The rules for behavior were exceedingly precise and ceremonious. Maidens were taught that it was unseemly to turn their heads round after the manner of a crane, and were exhorted rather to imitate the beautiful and timid hare, which looks straight forward. If necessary to look aside, they were told to move the head and body together, that their deportment might appear dignified. Simplicity of dress was likewise inculcated, except on festival occasions; and that respect might be shown to religion as well as chivalry, they were commanded to wear their richest apparel to church. Modesty was strongly urged. Every bard had a story of the daughter of some knight, who displayed her person so freely that her intended husband preferred her more modest, though less beautiful, sister. The ferocious pride of feudal power was softened by maxims of courtesy toward those of inferior rank. A noble lady once took off her hood and made respectful obeisance to a mechanic. One of her friends exclaimed, “Why, noble dame, you have taken off your hood to a tailor!” “Yes,” she replied; “and I would rather have doffed it to him, than a gentleman;” and those who heard her answer, thought she had done right well.

All the domestic economy of the castle was arranged by the maiden attendants, and they were early instructed in the mysteries of the healing art. The wounds of husbands and lovers were in those days cured by the fair hand of woman. Spenser says:

A knowledge of surgery was likewise a necessary feminine accomplishment.

Even as late as the days of queen Elizabeth, some of the ladies of her court are praised for their skill in surgery.

When men rode forth to hunt or hawk, they were generally accompanied by ladies, for whom a gentler species of falcons, called sparrow-hawks, were trained. The birds were gallantly bedight with silver bells, and it was the duty of every gallant knight to attend on his lady, to let the falcon loose at the proper moment, to animate it by his cries, to take from its talons the prey it seized, and then replace it respectfully on her hand. John of Salisbury, who wrote in the thirteenth century, says that women even excelled men in the knowledge and practice of falconry. Julian Berners, prioress of a nunnery in Sopewell, published, in 1481, a curious book full of directions concerning heraldry and hawking; for which reason she was called by cotemporaries “a Minerva in her studies, and a Diana in her diversions.” Some old English engravings represent ladies followed by dogs, running on foot, with hawks on their fists; and upon old monuments it is common to see the image of a woman, with a hawk perched near her, and a greyhound at her feet. Queen Elizabeth was fond both of hunting and falconry, and had no objection to the unfeminine amusement of bear-baiting. Even when she was sixty years old, Sir Walter Raleigh, in allusion to her sylvan sports, compares her and her maids of honor, in their stiff ruffs and fardingales, to the goddess Diana and her graceful nymphs. Tournaments and masks continued to be favorite amusements during the reign of the maiden queen, though the last rays of chivalry’s declining sun were then sinking to rise no more. Elizabeth, who had all the petitesse of a vain woman united with the cold caution of an artful man, always delivered the prizes herself; for she could not endure that one younger and fairer should personate the Queen of Love and Beauty. The gallantry of knighthood still characterized her courtiers. When she dropped her glove at a tournament, the earl of Cumberland picked it up, and was graciously requested to retain it. With the true spirit of chivalry, he caused it to be set in diamonds, and on festival occasions always wore it in his high-crowned hat, which had at that period superseded the helmet.

One singular custom that prevailed in England in the old time deserves to be recorded for its oddity. Sir Philip Somerville, in the reign of Edward the Third, left the manor of Whichnour to the earl of Lancaster, on condition that he should at all seasons of the year, except during Lent, be ready to deliver a flitch of bacon to any man and woman, who swore they had been married a year and a day without once repenting it; and that if they were again single, they would choose each other again, in preference to all the universe. The oath, taken in presence of witnesses, was as follows: “I A wedded my wife B, and syth I had her in my keepying and at my wylle, by a yeare and a daye after our marriage, I would not have changed for none other, richer ne pourer, ne for none other descended of gretter lynage, sleeping ne waking, at noo tyme. And if the said B were sole and I sole, I would take her to be my wife before all the wymen of the worlde, of what condytions so-ever they may be, good or evyl, as help me God and his seyntys, and this flesh and all fleshes.”

It is remarkable that during the middle ages, when profound homage was paid to women, as to things divine, a life closely secluded from their society was deemed the surest road to heaven. The eucharist was considered too holy to be touched by female fingers, and they were required to put a white linen glove upon the hand when they received it. The emperor Honorius banished Jovinian because he maintained that a man who lived with a wife might be saved, provided he obeyed the laws of piety and virtue; and Edward the Confessor was sainted for dying unmarried. Celibacy was expressly enjoined upon the clergy, and both priests and deacons were degraded from office for disobedience to this edict. In France it was carried to such an extent, that the barons had power to make slaves of any children of the married clergy. St. Dunstan, so famous for his abhorrence of women, introduced celibacy of clergy into England, and, with the consent of king Edgar, exhorted the married priests to put away their wives, under the penalty of being degraded from office, and deprived of their livings. From the ungallant character of St. Dunstan arose a superstitious custom, of which some traces remain in Great Britain even to the present day. It was deemed that if a bridal couple drank from St. Dunstan’s well, on the day of their marriage, the first one who tasted the water would govern the other for life. A bridegroom, who was very desirous to have the authority in his own hands, repaired to the well as soon as his wedding day dawned; and after the marriage ceremony was over, he boasted to his bride that he had drank of the water sooner than she could possibly have done. “Ah, my friend,” replied she, laughing, “you have not circumvented a woman’s wit; for I brought some of the water from the well, in a vial, the night before.”

When knights formed themselves into religious orders, to fight in defence of the holy sepulchre, they were required to take a vow of perpetual chastity, poverty, and obedience. A Knight Templar was forbidden to kiss maid, wife, or widow, not even excepting his mother and his sisters; and was not permitted to adorn his helmet with tokens either of nobility or love. But the principles of these pious knights yielded to the slightest pressure of circumstances. Men of large fortune paid little attention to their vow of poverty; connubial fidelity was substituted for perpetual celibacy; and even in this improved form, the history of the crusades gives us small reason to suppose that the promise was considered binding.

Such a project as that of the crusades naturally took powerful hold of the imaginations of women educated amid the splendid pageants of war and religion, and accustomed to the continual combination of things in their nature so discordant. Many accompanied their lovers and husbands to the Holy Land, and, after performing the most romantic exploits, died beside them on the field of battle. Whole squadrons of women sometimes took arms in defence of the holy cross. Those that accompanied the emperor Conrad were remarkable for the splendor of their military dresses. Their leader was called “the golden-footed dame.”

The ardor with which chivalry was embraced by all the principal nations of Europe, and the powerful hold it still retains on the imagination, notwithstanding the detestable pride and tyranny of those gallant nobles, is to be attributed to the sacred principles on which the institution was originally founded; viz. the chaste union of the sexes, and the forgetfulness of self in the effort to do good to others. But chivalry gradually degenerated from its original purity, and became a ridiculous mania for renown. Knighthood was no longer the reward of high-minded virtue, but was bestowed on any man who had wealth or power to obtain it for his own selfish purposes. The profligacy of the troubadours was open and flagrant; the crusaders, who made a pilgrimage to the holy sepulchre in expiation of their sins, fearfully added to the list on their way; poor knights, who had no money to pay their retainers, made no scruple of obtaining it by robbery and violence, and wandered about in quest of adventures, letting out their swords to richer brethren; women departed from the modesty which had procured them homage, and bestowed their smiles so indiscriminately that they lost their value. Yet, as the affectation of any thing is always more excessive than the reality, the exploits of the knights during the rapid decline of chivalry were more outrageously fantastical than they had ever been. It was common for a cavalier to post himself in some very public place, and fight every gentleman who passed, unless he instantly acknowledged that the lady of his affections was the handsomest and most virtuous lady in the world; and if, as often happened, he was met by one as mad as himself, who insisted upon maintaining the superior charms of his dulcinea, a deadly combat ensued. At the beginning of the fourteenth century, a society of ladies and gentlemen was formed at Poictou, called the Penitents of Love. In order to show that love could effect the strangest metamorphoses, they covered themselves with furred mantles, and sat before large fires, in the heat of summer, while in winter they wore the slightest possible covering. Thus chivalry became an absurd and disgusting mockery, and was finally laughed out of the world by the witty Cervantes. But though the form became grotesque, and died in a state of frenzy, the important use performed by the spirit of true chivalry ought not to be forgotten. It stood in the place of laws, when laws could not have been enforced, and it raised woman to a moral rank in society, unknown to the most refined nations of antiquity—a rank she can never entirely lose, and from which her present comparative freedom is derived. It taught Francis the First, that most chivalrous of all monarchs, to lay the foundation of a beautiful social system by introducing the wives and daughters of his nobles at court, where none but bearded men had previously been seen. “A court without ladies,” said he, “is a year without a spring, or a spring without roses.”

The Mohammedan religion, which debases woman into a machine, and regards love as a merely sensual passion, was introduced into the East about the same time that chivalry arose in the West, to exalt women into deities, and chasten passion with the purity of sentiment.

The military spirit induced by chivalry continued in full force through the whole of its existence, and survived its origin. Philippa, wife of Edward the Third, was the principal cause of the victory gained over the Scots at Neville Cross. In the absence of her husband, she rode among the troops, and exhorted them in the name of God to be of good heart and courage, promising to reward them better than if her lord the king were himself in the field. At the surrender of Calais, she displayed a better quality than courage. Her incensed husband demanded that six of the principal inhabitants should be put to death; and six patriotic citizens voluntarily offered their lives to appease the conqueror. When these heroic men knelt at his feet, to deliver the keys of the city, the queen likewise knelt, and begged their lives as a boon to her. Her tears prevailed; and the grateful inhabitants of Calais exclaimed, “Edward conquers cities, but Philippa conquers hearts!”

Jane, countess of Mountfort, who lived at the same period, and was a lineal descendant of the German women described by Tacitus, possessed a large share of manly courage. While her husband was detained in prison, she defended his right to the duchy of Bretagne against Charles of Blois. She visited all the principal towns and fortresses, and exhorted the troops to courage, in the name of herself and her infant son. When besieged in the strong town of Hennebon, she herself rode through the streets clad in mail, and mounted on a goodly steed; and her cheering smiles stimulated valor, even when her voice was drowned in the din of battle. Perceiving that the enemy’s camp was deserted, she seized a spear, and, accompanied by three hundred of her best knights, rode into the midst of it, and set the tents on fire. Her return being cut off by the French troops, she took the road to Brest, and for five days the good soldiers of Hennebon were ignorant of her fate; but on the sixth, she returned, with her golden banners glittering in the sun, and surrounded by five hundred lances, which her beauty and bravery had drawn around her. Afterward, she went to England, to solicit succor from Edward the Third. Returning with a considerable fleet, she was met by an enemy; and it is recorded that “the countess on that day was worth the bravest knight; she had the heart of a lion, and, with a sharp glaive in her hand, she fought fiercely.”

In 1338, the countess of March, called Black Agnes, from the color of her eyes and hair, resisted with extraordinary bravery and success the earl of Salisbury, who besieged her in the castle of Dunbar, during the absence of her husband.

In Italy, the prince of Romagna intrusted the defence of Cesena to his wife, Marzia, while he himself maintained a more important post. The noble matron donned the casque and cuirass, which she never laid aside, night or day; and when, in a moment of extreme peril, her father entreated her to surrender, she replied, “My husband has given me a duty to perform, and I must obey his command.” Though unable to obtain the victory, her bravery and skill secured a very favorable treaty.

When Regner Lodbrog waged war against Fro, king of Sweden, a young Norwegian girl, named Lagertha, greatly assisted him in his victory. Regner became in love with her, and made her his wife; but he soon after deserted her for another. Lagertha lived in the utmost retirement, until she heard that her husband was deserted by his friends, and placed in danger by rebellious subjects; then the generous wife forgot her own injuries, hastened to his relief, and was again victorious.

Avilda, daughter of the king of Gothland, scoured the seas with a powerful fleet; and king Sigar, who found she was not to be won in the usual manner, gained her heart by fitting out a fleet, and engaging in a furious battle with her for two days without intermission.

Marguérite of France, wife of St. Louis, while besieged by the Turks in Damietta, during the captivity of the king her husband, gave birth to a son, whom she named Tristan, in commemoration of her misfortunes. In this helpless situation, hearing that the crusaders were about to capitulate with the enemy she summoned the knights to her apartment, and the words she uttered stirred their spirits like the tones of a trumpet. Her address has been immortalized in such beautiful verse, by Mrs. Hemans, that I cannot forbear quoting some of the stanzas:

No wonder such an appeal met with a thrilling response:

Joan of Arc, born of humble parentage, but strong in military courage, and the enthusiasm of prophecy, appeared among the discouraged troops of France, mounted on a milk-white steed, with snowy plumes nodding over her helmet, and in the name of God urged them on to victory. Battle after battle was gained by the consecrated maiden; and history weeps to record that she at last fell a victim to the cruelty of the English and the base ingratitude of the French.

Margaret of Anjou twice delivered her husband from prison and placed him on the English throne; nor did she yield to an overpowering torrent of misfortunes, till she had decided twelve battles in person.

During the reign of Anne of Austria, the French women often appeared at the head of political factions, wearing scarfs that designated the party to which they belonged. Swords and harps, violins and cuirasses, were seen together in the same saloon. There was a regiment created under the name of Mademoiselle; and when Monsieur wrote to the ladies who attended his daughter to Orleans, the letter was directed as follows: “A Mesdames, les Comtesses Maréchales de camp, dans l’ armée de ma fille, contre le Mazarin.” The gift of a bracelet, or glove, was as much valued by the courteous gentlemen of France, as it had been by the knights of chivalry. M. de Chatillon wore the garter of his beautiful mistress on his arm; and when the Duc de Bellegarde went to take command of the army, he besought the queen to honor him so far as to touch the hilt of his sword. The Duc de la Rochefoucault says of Madam de Longueville:

During the reign of James the Second, a singular instance of female heroism occurred in Scotland. Sir John Cochrane being condemned to be hung for joining in Argyle’s rebellion, his daughter twice disguised herself and robbed the mail that brought his death-warrant. In the mean time his pardon was obtained from the king.

A spirit of superstitious devotion manifested itself in those times to an extent quite as remarkable as the military enthusiasm. No guest was so welcome in bower and hall as the pilgrim returned from the Holy Land, with many a tale to tell of victories gained by Knights of the Holy Cross over the worthless infidel. The troubadours, after a youth spent in love and minstrelsy, almost invariably retired to the silence of the cloister. Noble and beautiful ladies, upon the slightest disgust with life, or remorse of conscience, took the vow that separated them forever from the world, and pledged them to perpetual chastity and poverty. When this vow was taken, all jewels and rich garments were laid aside, and the head shorn of its beautiful ornament of hair. The building in which they secluded themselves was guarded by massive walls, and iron-grated windows. The rich and the noble seldom died without leaving something to endow a convent. At last, they became powerful instruments of oppression; for if a nobleman had numerous daughters, and wished, in the pride of his heart, to centre his wealth upon one only, he could compel all the others to take the veil; if they were not sufficiently beautiful to aid his ambitious views, or dared to form an attachment contrary to his wishes the same fate awaited them. If a nun violated her vow of chastity, she suffered a penalty as severe as that imposed on the vestal virgins; being placed in an opening of the walls, which was afterwards bricked up, and thus left to perish slowly with hunger. The priests, with some honorable exceptions, were not remarkable for purity, and as the nature of their office gave them free ingress to the nunneries, the results took place which might have been expected from people bound by unnatural vows. The licentiousness of the priesthood gradually made the holy orders a by-word and a reproach, and prepared the way for the stern reformers of the sixteenth century.

But the influence of convents was far from being all evil. Their gates were ever open to the sick, the wounded, and the destitute; in the most turbulent times, the sweet charities of life there found a kindly nursery; and many a young mind was trained to virtue and learning, under the fostering care of some worthy abbess.

As chivalry declined, men began to take pride in literature, instead of leaving all “book learning to the meaner folk;” and women, of course, assumed a corresponding character. The merits of Aristotle and Plato divided the attention of the learned. The universities declared in favor of Aristotle; but poets, lovers, and women, were enamored of the ethereal Plato. Women preached in public, supported controversies, published and defended theses, filled the chairs of philosophy and law, harangued the popes in Latin, wrote Greek, and read Hebrew. Nuns wrote poetry, women of rank became divines, and young girls publicly exhorted Christian princes to take up arms for the recovery of the holy sepulchre.

Hypatia, daughter of Theon of Alexandria, is said to have exceeded her father in astronomy, and well understood other parts of philosophy. She succeeded her father in the government of the Platonic school, and filled with reputation a seat where many celebrated philosophers had taught. The people regarded her as an oracle, and magistrates consulted her in all important cases. No reproach was ever uttered against the perfect purity of her manners. She was unembarrassed in large assemblies of men, because their admiration was tempered with the most scrupulous respect.

In the thirteenth century, a young lady of Bologna, who had great beauty of person, pronounced a Latin funeral oration at the age of twenty-three. At twenty-six she took the degree of doctor of laws, and began publicly to expound the laws of Justinian. At thirty, she was elevated to a professor’s chair, and taught the law to a crowd of scholars from all nations.

Marguérite Clotilde de Surville, in the early part of the fifteenth century, wrote poetry remarkable for its freshness and simplicity, and for the tender affection toward her husband and child which breathes on every page. After her husband’s death, she did better than to enter a nunnery, according to the fashion of the times—she lived unmarried, and devoted herself to the education of her son. When some of her verses were repeated to Margaret of Scotland, the first wife of Louis the Eleventh, she sent her a wreath of laurel, surmounted with a bouquet of daisies, (in French called marguérites,) in which the flowers were of gold, and the leaves silver. It bore this inscription: “Marguérite d’ Ecosse à Marguérite d’ Helicon.”

Italy produced many learned and gifted women, among whom perhaps none was more celebrated than Victoria Colonna, marchioness of Pescara. She was passionately fond of poetry, and being early left to mourn the loss of a husband dearly beloved, she spent the remainder of her life amid the quiet pursuits of literature. Nearly all her sonnets bear allusion to her husband. In one of these she says: “Since I was not permitted to be the mother of sons, to inherit their father’s glory, I may at least, by uniting my name with his in verse, become the mother of his illustrious deeds and lofty fame.” Ariosto says that the marquis of Pescara was more to be envied for the strains in which his gifted wife elevated him above cotemporary heroes, than Achilles, whose warlike deeds were sung by Homer.

In Spain, Isabella of Rosera converted Jews by her eloquent preaching, and commented upon the learned Scotus before cardinals and archbishops.

In England, Lady Jane Grey had great fame as a scholar. She was found poring over Plato with delight, while other members of her family were engaged in diversions; and the night before the blameless creature was executed for the fault of her ambitious parents, she wrote to her sister in Greek, exhorting her to live and die in the true faith of the reformers.

Roger Ascham said of his royal pupil, Elizabeth, “Yea, I believe that, besides her perfect readiness in Latin, Italian, French, and Spanish, she readeth more Greek every day than some prebendary of this church doth Latin in a whole week.”

The eldest daughter of Sir Thomas More had learning equalled only by her virtues. She corresponded with the celebrated Erasmus, who styled her “the ornament of Britain.”

Mary, queen of Scots, could write and speak six languages. She made graceful verses in French; and, when very young, delivered a Latin oration to the court of France, to prove that there was nothing unfeminine in the pursuit of letters.

The spirit of chivalry blazed forth anew in the literature of that period. Many pens were employed in framing the panegyrics of illustrious women; and Italy was peculiarly distinguished for these performances. Boccacio set the example in his Panegyric de Claris Mulieribus. After this, innumerable writers published eulogies on the celebrated women of all nations. These volumes paved the way for the discussion of the merits of women in general; and the pre-eminence of female character over that of men, was proposed for a question in public debate. In this discussion, Cornelius Agrippa boldly asserted the superiority of women.

Peter Paul de Ribera, an Italian, published a work entitled, “The immortal Triumphs and heroic Enterprises of eight hundred and forty-five Women.” But even this ample panegyric is less singular than a publication at Venice, in 1555, called “The Temple of the divine Signora Joan of Arragon; erected in her honor by all the greatest wits, and in all the principal languages of the world.” The society which conceived this method of deification, disputed upon one point only; viz. whether Joan of Arragon should possess the honors of the temple alone, or share them with her celebrated sister, the marchioness de Gaust. After mature deliberation, it was decided that two sovereigns ought not to sit on the same throne; it was therefore resolved by the academy, “that the marchioness have separate worship, and Joan of Arragon remain in the sole and exclusive possession of her altars.” Latin, Greek, Italian, French, Spanish, Sclavonian, Hebrew, Chaldaic, and many other languages, were combined in this singular monument to woman’s fame.

In the midst of all this adulation, women were not backward in vindicating their own claims. Several Italian ladies wrote books to prove the comparative inferiority of men; and the French women espoused the cause with equal zeal. The most conspicuous among them was Margaret of Navarre, the first wife of Henry the Fourth, who undertook to prove that “woman is much superior to man.” This princess, like Elizabeth of England, made use of expressions so gross, that we in modern times can hardly realize they came from a woman.

About the commencement of the sixteenth century, witches began to be persecuted, abused, and despised, instead of being treated with the reverence of more ancient times. Either from association with the idea of the wrinkled sibyl of Cumæ, or from some other less obvious cause, every woman who was old and haggard was in great danger of being considered a witch. Every unaccountable event in the neighborhood was charged to her; and any explanations she attempted to make were regarded as the cunning instigations of the devil. If a new disease appeared among cattle, or a blight rested on the fields, or a child had a singular kind of fit, or a neighbor had the nightmare, it was immediately attributed to the influence of some old dame, who at midnight, when honest folks were sleeping, left her mortal body and went careering through the air on a broomstick, accompanied by a train of imps. If any person afflicted with fits, or other grievances, swore that any particular individual was the cause, their oath was deemed sufficient, and the poor victim of superstition was forthwith committed to jail, there to await a cruel death. In many parts of the north of Europe, it was for several years a very remarkable thing for any old woman to die peaceably in her bed; and the same kind of excitement prevailed to a considerable extent in England, Germany, and France. The description of witches and their accompaniments are nearly the same all the world over. Even in remote Hindostan, an old woman appeared many years ago, of whom it was reported that she used to cook owls, bats, snakes, lizards, and human flesh, in the skull of an enemy, by which means she was able to render men invisible, and strike terror into their adversaries. If the Hindoos had read Shakspeare, they could not have pictured more exactly the English ideas of a witch. A cat, and generally a black one, is usually described as one of the appendages of these enchantresses; and it was supposed that they very often assumed the form of that animal.

But it was not merely the aged who fell victims to this strange superstition: the young and the beautiful were sometimes burned at the stake, upon the charge of having dealt in magic. Such was the fate of the high-souled maid of Orleans. The duchess de Conchini, being summoned before the judges, and asked by what arts she had bewitched the queen of France, calmly replied, “Merely by that ascendency which great minds must have over little ones.” In England, the duchess of Gloster was accused of making a wax figure of Henry the Sixth, and causing it to melt before the fire with certain incantations, intended to produce his death. For this offence, charged upon her by political enemies of her husband, she was condemned to walk through the streets barefoot, dressed in a white sheet, with papers pinned on her back, and a burning taper in her hand; and after performing this humiliating penance three days, followed by an insulting rabble, she was banished from the realm. Richard the Third pretended that his withered arm was produced by the sorcery of his brother’s widow and Jane Shore.

Fortune-telling was a power supposed to be universally possessed by witches; and the most common method was by studying the lines of the hand. A cup containing tea or coffee grounds was sometimes chosen in preference; the person whirled it round three times toward herself, accompanying each motion with a wish; then the sorceress examined the cup, and pretended to find destiny inscribed there.

On the evening of the thirty-first of October, called Allhallow Even, or Hallow E’en, witches, devils, and fairies were supposed to be peculiarly busy. On this occasion it was common for young girls to try tricks to ascertain whom they were to marry. The burning of nuts or apple-seeds in a shovel was a favorite charm; the nuts were named, and accordingly as they burned quietly together, or bounced away from each other, it was supposed the issue of the courtship would be. Burns describes this ceremony:

It was likewise customary to go out blindfolded and pull the first plant of kail they met; its being big or little, crooked or straight, indicated the size and shape of the future husband or wife; the quantity of earth that clung to the root was prophetic of the degree of wealth; and the taste of the stem indicated the natural temper and disposition. Another trick was to go partly down cellar in the dark, and throw a ball of thread down stairs, keeping hold of one end to wind it; if any thing impeded it, they called out, “Who holds?” and it was believed that a voice from the cellar would answer the name of the future spouse. Sometimes an individual stole out unperceived and sowed a handful of hemp-seed, repeating now and then, “Hemp-seed, I sow thee; hemp-seed, I sow thee; and he that is to be my true love come after me and pull thee.” Then looking over the left shoulder, the appearance of the invoked person was supposed to be seen in the attitude of pulling hemp: and no doubt it often was seen; for roguish lovers did not always neglect such opportunities to advance their suit.

A volume might be filled with the “tricks” tried by young people to ascertain who would be their future husband, or wife; but these few specimens must suffice. Egyptian women were the most famous sorcerers of the ancient world; and Gipseys have been most famed for magical skill in modern times.

The fourteenth of February is called St. Valentine’s day. On the evening previous, it was customary in many parts of the world for people to write valentines, or love-letters in verse, to any lady who pleased their fancy; and sometimes ladies were gracious enough to address their lovers in rhyme. The outer door was usually slyly opened, and the verses, tied to an apple or an orange, thrown in. A loud rap then announced the event to the inmates of the house. Sometimes the boys, for the sake of sport, would chalk the size of a letter on the door-step, and then have fine fun when some person attempted to pick it up. There was a superstition that whoever was first seen on the morning of St. Valentine’s day, would assuredly be the future spouse. On that day it was customary for a young lady to choose from among the gentlemen of her acquaintance one to be her gallant; he presented her with a bunch of flowers, or other trifling present, and thus bound himself to attend upon her with the most obsequious gallantry for the space of one year; before the service was completed a more serious partnership was often resolved on.

On St. Valentine’s day, it is still usual for the common people of England to draw names by lot. The man whose name is drawn makes the fair one some trifling present, and is her partner in the dance. She considers him her beau until he is engaged to some one else, or till St. Valentine’s day returns.

These customs, together with the superstitious observances of Hallow E’en, continued in full force during the seventeenth century, and fragments of them are now found in various parts of the world.

It may be necessary to say a few words concerning the dress worn at the remote periods of which we have been speaking. The Saxon ladies wore a bodice and short petticoat, with a kind of mantle over the head and shoulders. Buskins, laced in front, were worn on the feet. The custom of combing the hair all back from the face, surmounted with a black coif and steeple hat, continued from the Norman conquest till near the seventeenth century. Queen Elizabeth was the first woman in England that wore silk stockings; embroidered gloves and perfumes were likewise first introduced into England from Italy, for her use. This magnanimous queen was extremely offended if any of the ladies of her court wore garments approaching to her own in magnificence. She had a new dress for every day in the year, and was much attracted by rich apparel in gentlemen. Sir Walter Raleigh had even his shoes embroidered with pearls, and the court dresses of her favorite Leicester were literally covered with jewels. Elizabeth enacted sumptuary laws, which defined with great precision what sort of bonnet might be worn by a gentlewoman, what by an esquire’s wife, what by a baron’s wife, &c. Aldermen’s wives were permitted by an express law to wear the royal color of scarlet. Every alderman who failed to supply his wife with a scarlet gown before the ensuing Christmas, was fined ten pounds; and every lady, who failed to appear in these dresses at Christmas and Easter, forfeited twenty shillings for every default.

During Cromwell’s time, ornaments were thought sinful. Women wore their hair plain and smooth, and muffled their persons from head to foot, as if beauty were a gift to be ashamed of. This unnatural restraint produced a violent reaction in the time of Charles the Second. Ladies began to copy the elegant drapery of Vandyke’s pictures, which gradually degenerated into extreme immodesty.

The emperor Paul of Russia made very minute regulations concerning the dress both of men and women; and his laws were so capricious that it required the most vigilant attention to comply with them. He once ordered a lady of his court to be imprisoned and kept on bread and water, because she had been guilty of wearing her hair rather lower in the neck than was consistent with his decrees.

During the middle ages, the French women wore gowns quite high in the neck, and fitted closely to the shape. The right side was embroidered with their husbands’ coat of arms, and the left with their own. The custom of displaying the shoulders was unknown before the time of Charles the Sixth. Widows were closely muffled, and wore caps and veils very much like nuns. Henry the Fourth found himself obliged to restrain extravagance by sumptuary laws; yet his mistress, Gabriella, was sometimes so loaded with pearls and diamonds, that she could not support her own weight.

A taste for rich and elegant dress displayed itself first and most conspicuously in Italy and France, and thence spread into more northern nations. Petrarch’s Laura is described as wearing gloves brocaded with gold, and dressed magnificently in silk, though a pound of silk at that period was valued at four pounds sterling in money.

Spanish ladies wore necklaces of steel, to which thin iron rods were fastened, curving upward to expand the veil when thrown over the head. Caps more than a foot high were likewise much in vogue; they were dressed in the form of a toupee on the top of the head, and covered with a black veil. These caps may still be seen in some of the Spanish provinces. Both in Scotland and Spain it was customary for a widow to wear mourning till she died, or married again. The first year was passed in a chamber hung with black, from which the sunlight was excluded; the second it was hung with gray, and jewels and mirrors prohibited.

All nations prided themselves on long and beautiful hair. Among the Saxons and Danes, married women only covered it with a head-dress; girls wore their tresses loose and flowing. A faithless wife had her head shaven, and the church sometimes ordered it as a penance for other sins. The Spanish and Italian ladies retained the Roman predilection for golden hair. In order to obtain the desired hue, they made use of sulphur and aquafortis, and exposed their heads to the sun during the hottest hours of the day.

During the middle ages, dwellings were vast, and in some respects magnificent, but remarkably comfortless. The wife of the proudest baron, though she wore

was obliged to live without many things, which the least wealthy citizen of the United States would consider it absolutely necessary to provide for his household. Coffee and tea were unknown. Coaches were not used in England until 1680. Before that time ladies rode on horseback or on palfreys; and sometimes double, with another on the pillion. A fondness for perfumes was universal; they were usually kept burning in censers.

The word lady is supposed to have been derived from the Saxon word hlaf-dig, meaning a loaf-giver, from the custom of distributing bread among retainers, after a feast in baronial halls. It was customary to bind the tender limbs of infants in tight bandages.

After the sixteenth century, books or verses in praise of women gradually diminished; tournaments were abolished; and manners became less reserved and respectful. Ladies of rank began to throw aside the pedantry of learned languages, and acquire what the French call “the talent of society.” The French were the first to set the example of graceful accomplishments, and fascinating vivacity of manners; and they soon became, what they have ever since remained, “the glass of fashion” for other nations.

The beautiful Mary Stuart carried the gay and graceful refinements of Paris into the bleak atmosphere of Scotland, and Henrietta Maria, with her brilliant eyes, lively manners, and ever-changing caprices, made them fashionable in old England.

Under the commonwealth, society assumed a new and stern aspect. The theatres were shut; games shows, and amusements of every kind, were prohibited. Women were in disgrace, and love considered a sin to be expiated by fasting and prayer. It was everywhere reiterated from the pulpits that woman caused man’s expulsion from paradise, and ought to be shunned by Christians, as one of the greatest temptations of Satan. “Man,” said they, “is conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity; it was his complacency in woman that wrought his first abasement; let him not therefore glory in his shame; let him not worship the fountain of his corruption.” Learning and accomplishments were alike discouraged; and women confined themselves to a knowledge of cookery, family medicines, and unintelligible theological disputes of the day.

The reign of Charles the Second was an era of shameless profligacy. Ladies of the court paid little regard to decorum, either in dress or manners; and men covered their selfish sensuality with just gloss enough not to defeat their own purposes. There never was a time when women were so much caressed and so little respected. It was then customary, when a gentleman drank a lady’s health, to throw some article of dress into the flames in her honor; and all his companions were obliged to sacrifice a similar article, whatever it might be. One of Sir Charles Sedley’s friends, perceiving that he wore a very rich lace cravat, drank to the health of a certain lady, and threw his own cravat in the fire. Sir Charles followed the example very good-naturedly, but observed that he too would have a joke sometime. Afterward, when he dined with the same party, he filled a bumper to some reigning beauty, and called a dentist to extract a decaying tooth, which had long pained him. Etiquette demanded that every one of the party should throw a tooth in the fire; and they yielded to necessity, after unavailing remonstrances against this cruel test of their gallantry. The practice of drinking in honor of ladies is said to have originated at the concerts of St. Cecilia. When the concert ended, the gentlemen retired to a tavern; and he, who could drink the most wine, acquired the right of naming the reigning toast for the ensuing year.

During the reign of the second Charles, women, instead of being approached with the respect paid to superior beings, became the objects of contemptuous satire. The despicable earl of Rochester set the example of this species of writing; and in succeeding reigns, it was followed by Pope, Swift, Young, and a multitude of ordinary writers. Pope says:

The objects of this wholesale bitterness have been disposed to palliate it, in consideration of the personal deformity of the poet, which made him magnanimously hate those whom he could not please.

Swift speaks of his unacknowledged and heart-broken wife as follows:

And yet, when poor Stella had died, a victim to his unkindness, he reviled all womankind in terms of brutal grossness. He even started the opinion that women were a connecting link between men and monkeys; and ladies will no doubt be disposed to thank him for any classification, that does not place them in the same species with himself.

But panegyrists cannot raise women above their level, or satirists force them below it. Their character and condition is always in correspondence with that of men; and both sexes have always furnished about an equal number of exceptions to the general character of the age in which they lived. There were liberal-minded women, as well as men, during the bigoted times of Cromwell, and many an English matron, of stainless character, educated her pure-minded daughters far from the corrupting court of Charles the Second. The excellent lady Russell, who was perhaps the very best woman in the world, lived in these profligate times.

Mary, the wife of William the Third, made industry, domestic virtue, and modest apparel, fashionable by her own example; and during Anne’s reign the social intercourse of the sexes was polite and pleasant without being profligate. It is true that literature was not the order of the day; for the women of that period were as ignorant of their own language, as they had formerly been learned in the classics; Dr. Johnson declares that even the gifted Stella could not spell correctly. Needlework became the all-absorbing occupation among women of the higher classes. Whole churches were hung with tapestry embroidered by devout dames; and notable housewives prided themselves on covering their floors, chairs, and footstools, with the workmanship of their own hands.

In queen Anne’s reign, it was considered vulgar to speak or move like a person in good health. Complete helplessness was considered peculiarly feminine and becoming. The duchess of Marlborough carried this fashion so far, that when she travelled, she ordered the drums of garrisons to be muffled, and straw laid before her hotels, lest her delicate nerves should be offended with rude noises. About this time was introduced from France the fashion of wearing shoes with heels five or six inches high, top-knots of extraordinary height on the head, and hooped petticoats measuring six or seven yards in circumference.

The custom of powdering the hair with flour was introduced by ballad singers, in 1641. In the beginning of the reign of George the First, only two ladies wore their hair powdered, and they were pointed at for their singularity. The women of that period likewise wore a great quantity of artificial hair, in imitation of periwigs worn by men.

About this time, lady Mary Wortley Montagu conferred a great blessing upon England, and the civilized world, by introducing inoculation for the small pox, after her return from Turkey. The custom was opposed with the utmost violence of ignorance and prejudice; but lady Mary persevered in her generous purpose, and to prove her sincerity, she first tried it upon her own son, about three years old. In Litchfield cathedral stands a cenotaph raised to her memory by a lady, who had herself derived benefit from this salutary practice. The monument represents Beauty weeping for the loss of her preserver.

Some of the best English writers appeared during the latter part of the seventeenth century; but the romances of the day were exceedingly prosaic, love-sick, and sentimental. The hero and heroine always fell in love at first sight, and always had innumerable difficulties to contend with, in consequence of the cruelty of relations and the plots of libertines. Love, instead of being acted upon and developed by circumstances, was represented as the chief end and aim of life, and all the events of this busy world were merely its accessories.

About this time was introduced the word “blue-stocking,” which has ever since been applied to literary ladies, who were somewhat pedantic. It is said to have originated at a literary club, where several women assembled. A gentleman who wore blue stockings was regarded as the lion of the menagerie; and when he was detained, it was common to observe, “We can do nothing till the blue stockings come.” The manner in which the phrase has ever since been used leads to the conclusion that the members of this club were pedantic. It is now common to say of a sensible, unaffected woman, “She knows a great deal, but has no tinge of blue.” Byron wittily remarked, “I care not how blue a woman’s stockings are, if her petticoats are long enough to cover them;” and this pithy observation comprises all that ever need be said about the cultivation of female intellect.

English history presents many instances of women exercising prerogatives now denied them. In an action at law, it has been determined that an unmarried woman, having a freehold, might vote for members of parliament; and it is recorded that lady Packington returned two members of parliament. Lady Broughton was keeper of the Gate-house prison; and in a much later period a woman was appointed governor of the house of correction at Chelmsford, by order of the court.

In the reign of George the Second, the minister of Clerkenwell was chosen by a majority of women. The office of champion has frequently been held by a woman, and was so at the coronation of George the First. The office of grand chamberlain, in 1822, was filled by two women; and that of clerk of the crown, in the court of king’s bench, has been granted to a female. The celebrated Anne, countess of Pembroke, held the hereditary office of sheriff of Westmoreland, and exercised it in person, sitting on the bench of the judges. In ancient councils mention is made of deaconesses; and in an edition of the New Testament printed in 1574, a woman is spoken of as minister of a church. The society of Friends, and the Methodists, are the only Christian sects who now allow women to speak at public religious meetings.

A woman may succeed to the throne of England with the same power and privileges as a king; and the business of the state is transacted in her name, while her husband is only a subject. The king’s wife is considered as a subject; but is exempted from the law which forbids any married woman to possess property in her own right during the lifetime of her husband; she may sue any person at law without joining her husband in the suit; may buy and sell lands without his interference; and she may dispose of her property by will, as if she were a single woman. She cannot be fined by any court of law; but is liable to be tried and punished for crimes by peers of the realm. The queen dowager enjoys nearly the same privileges that she did before she became a widow; and if she marries a subject still continues to retain her rank and title; but such marriages cannot take place without permission from the reigning sovereign. A woman who is noble in her own right retains her title when she marries a man of inferior rank; but if ennobled by her husband, she loses the title by marrying a commoner. A peeress can only be tried by a jury of peers.

In old times, a woman who was convicted of being a common mischief-maker and scold, was sentenced to the punishment of the ducking-stool; which consisted of a sort of chair fastened to a pole, in which she was seated and repeatedly let down into the water, amid the shouts of the rabble. At Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a woman convicted of the same offence was led about the streets by the hangman, with an instrument of iron bars fitted on her head, like a helmet. A piece of sharp iron entered the mouth, and severely pricked the tongue whenever the culprit attempted to move it.

A great deal of vice prevails in England, among the very fashionable, and the very low classes. Misconduct and divorces are not unfrequent among the former, because their mode of life corrupts their principles, and they deem themselves above the jurisdiction of popular opinion; the latter feel as if they were beneath the influence of public censure, and find it very difficult to be virtuous, on account of extreme poverty and the consequent obstructions in the way of marriage. But the general character of English women is modest, reserved, sincere, and dignified. They have strong passions and affections, which often develope themselves in the most beautiful forms of domestic life. They are in general remarkable for a healthy appearance, and an exquisite bloom of complexion. Perhaps the world does not present a lovelier or more graceful picture than the English home of a virtuous family.